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studioeisa · 3 months ago

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the final defense of the dying 🥀 jeonghan x reader.

jeonghan has escorted twelve tributes to their deaths. he will do everything in his power to make sure you don’t face the same fate.

🥀 pairing. hunger games mentor!jeonghan x tribute!reader. 🥀 word count. 13.1k. 🥀 genres. alternate universe: non-idol, alternate universe: hunger games. heavy angst, action, friendship, romance. 🥀 includes. minors do not interact. minor character deaths; hunger games-typical depictions of blood, gore, violence; themes of ptsd, sex work; sexual content; mentions of food, alcohol. childhood best friends, jeonghan yearns :(, cameos of svt members. 🥀 footnotes. this is part of the angst olympics collaboration. i did say this would be above 5k. a direct hit for @diamonddaze01, and for everyone who soldiered through sunrise on the reaping. my masterlist 🎵 doomsday, lizzy mcalpine. meet me in the woods, lord huron. growing sideways, noah kahan. we hug now, sydney rose. no light, no light, florence + the machine. without you without them, boygenius. the prophecy, taylor swift.

I. YOON JEONGHAN, THE FRIEND.

Jeonghan’s nightmares always start the same.

The middles and the endings vary. If he’s lucky, he doesn’t have to suffer through an entire run of his Games. If he’s unlucky, he wakes up gasping for breath like he had his head dunked underwater the entire evening.

It always opens with the sprawling fields of District 11.

The very lands he had once thought to be so commanding. On his first train ride to the Capitol—when he was being sent out like a pig for slaughter—he knew, even then, that the sight was one to behold. Bountiful orchards, fruit trees in full bloom, tilled land as far as the eye could see.

When he sees them in his nightmares, there is always something wrong. An infestation. A wildfire. His loved ones, spilling blood all over the hay.

Tonight, it’s you.

Jeonghan’s subconscious is caught off-guard. It’s not the first time he’s dreamt of you, after all. And so he thinks it’s going to be pleasant, thinks he’s going to enjoy some ethereal adventure.

But then you open your mouth and nothing comes out. Not your sweet voice. Not your call of Hannie. Your face contorts, twists, like you’re in pain. It’s the very last expression Jeonghan would ever want to see on your face.

He tries to reach you. He takes a couple of paces forward. He breaks out into a run. But the fields stretch, and stretch, and stretch, and all the while, you stare straight at him with that soundless look of terror.

Jeonghan wakes with his chest heaving.

It takes him thirty seconds to realize he had been dreaming. It takes him another five minutes to clamber out of bed, unsteady on his feet as he makes his way to the en suite bathroom.

Here, in the Victor’s Village, it’s only him. And he doesn’t mean that in the sense that he has no living relatives to stay in this big, empty house with him. He means it in the sense that he’s the only district’s Victor, the only one to have come back alive after 73 iterations of the Games. It had its advantages.

Being all alone means nobody can hear Jeonghan when he screams. When he sits in the tub, head between his knees, and screams until his voice is hoarse.

He chalks up the eerie dream to what awaits him later in the day. The reaping looms over him like a storm cloud, but there’s also a silver lining he holds on to as he goes through his morning routine. It’s morbid. It’s cruel. He would never admit it to anyone.

For once, Jeonghan is looking forward to the reaping.

On average, the reaping was considered the worst day for any district. An annual lottery that decided who would be sent off to participate in that year’s Games. Behind New Year’s, Reaping Day was the second-most likely day for people to get drunk.

Today was your last.

The last day you had to have your name in the bowl. The last reaping you would have to endure.

You and Jeonghan were twelve when your names first got added into the mix. When he came back from his Games, he made sure you would never have to apply for tesserae—a year’s worth of grain and oil. He was richer than the gods, anyway, with all his winnings. And who else would he share it with but you?

So, in your final year, there are still only seven slips of paper with your name on it.

Jeonghan likes your chances.

The reaping kicks off at around three in the afternoon. Obligations keep Jeonghan away from sneaking out to find you, but he knows where to look once the ceremony begins. You’re in the roped-off area of the town square, towards the front where all the older eligibles await their fate.

Jeonghan doesn’t bother to hide the fact he’s staring, that he’s waiting for you to look his way. Almost willing it, even, and he can sense your vexation from the stage where he’s forced to stand.

You finally look up at him. For a moment, he sees the face in his dream. The one screaming.

It passes like a mirage, leaving your familiar expression of exasperation.

Stop, you mouth, trying to look somewhat stern. Failing. (A corner of your lip has twitched upward.)

He raises one shoulder in a shrug. Can’t help it, he mouths back, the knot in his chest loosening ever so slightly.

For the first time that day, he feels like he can breathe.

The mayor steps forward to recite the history of the founding of Panem. The Dark Days brought upon by the uprising, the Treaty of Treason that institutionalized the Games. There’s a measly attempt to discuss the spoils and riches that come with winning, but nobody is convinced. Not when there’s still only a solitary victor on stage.

“District 11’s victors,” the mayor rasps. This part is required reading, has been included in the program for the past six years. “Yoon Jeonghan, the 66th Hunger Games.”

There’s a smatter of polite applause. Jeonghan offers the gathered crowd a small nod in acknowledgement, but nothing more.

The list ends there.

The district’s escort since gods-knows-when moves up to the microphone. Bauble lived up to her name; she was a stout, shimmery thing embellished in absurd shades of gold and glitter. You once told Jeonghan that her voice was like a coin in a tin can, and he’s been unable to unhear it ever since.

She waxes poetics about the honor of being a tribute. Jeonghan tunes it out, focuses on staring straight ahead. He wonders, briefly, what he should have for dinner.

Bauble steps towards the glass bowl containing hundreds of folded pieces of paper. Hundreds. Some have their names in there on twenty-something slips.

Not you. You only have seven. Seven, because Jeonghan had made sure to keep the odds as low as possible.

“Ladies first,” Bauble warbles.

And perhaps that’s Jeonghan’s first mistake—that he does not worry.

He’s so sure, so certain, riding on the high of this reaping being your final one. His mind is already halfway into next week, into the special brand of kindness you afford him in the aftermath of the Games.

You were always a little softer to him whenever he came home from the bloodbath. A consolation, he had thought during his first year as a mentor. Perverse as it is, he soaked it all up.

The nights you’d spend at his home in the Victor’s Village. The cooked meals and the reassuring touches. The words you’d murmur whenever he woke up from his nightmares; your sweet nothings of you did what you could and no one blames you and it was just a dream, Hannie, you’re safe here.

He’s thinking of those, of you.

And so he nearly misses the way Bauble calls out your name.

The very name he had shrieked as a child when the two of you played games in the corn fields and rice paddies. The very name he had murmured soundlessly while he was delirious and sick in his own arena. (The thought of you, the only thing that kept him alive.)

It’s your name, but everybody in the crowd—from the farmers to the ranchers to the Peacekeepers, even—know you as something else.

Jeonghan’s darling. Jeonghan’s sweetheart.

The love of his life, now sentenced to die.

He can feel it. The tangible shift in the air.

The camera trying to get a tight shot of his face. The probing eyes, all flickering between you and Jeonghan like the district doesn’t know who to focus on.

You may be the reaped, but the slip of paper in Bauble’s hand has condemned you both.

Jeonghan doesn’t give anyone the satisfaction of a reaction

He watches, tight-lipped and steely-eyed, as you move through the crowd like a summer breeze. You don’t look towards him. A small grace.

You take your place on the stage. Bauble—ignorant as ever of the tension that has rippled through the district—flashes you a toothy smile.

“Lovely,” she sing-songs. Jeonghan barely resists the urge to tear the escort’s wig off.

She moves over to the boys’ fishing bowl and pulls out a name. It’s some rancher’s son, someone who got a little cocky about the amount of tesserae they thought they could get. He stumbles forward from the back row of eligibles, which means he’s young. Probably only thirteen or so.

Jeonghan doesn’t dwell on it it. He’s too busy holding his hands behind his back, his nails digging into his palms in a way that will leave crescent-shaped marks.

“Ladies and gentleman, join me in welcoming the District 11 tributes of the 73rd Hunger Games!” Bauble trills.

During Reaping Day, there is already barely any applause or cheers. Why would anyone celebrate when Jeonghan was still the only one to have come back after all these decades?

Today, though, it’s silent as a tomb.

Bauble looks like she’s at a loss. A quiet district doesn’t make for good television. “And may the odds be ever in their favor,” she’s saying hastily, but her words patter off when it begins.

A low hum. Somebody from the back of the crowd starts it up, and then the rows follow suit one after the other.

People are always angry in District 11.

The days are long and the work is hard. The sun is unforgiving; the labor, unjustified. And so the people have learned to sing, have taken to music so they could bear the strife. The two of you grew up to hymns in the fields, ballads on birthdays—

Songs at funerals. Grief shared in rumbling baritones, in lyrics passed down from one generation to another.

The weeping women begin to croon.

The fields whisper low where the tall corn sways, Calling your name in the hush of the days. Summer was golden, but frost’s moving in, Taking the bright ones again and again.

It’s a song as old as time, an honor as recognizable as the three-fingered salute. Jeonghan dares to steal a glance at you. You’re clutching the male tribute to your side, and your jaw is set with defiance.

The sun kissed your brow as you worked through the rows, Hands stained with labor, a heart no one knows. Now they have sent you where none should be sent, Leaving us hollow, our backs tired and bent.

Your parents. Gods, your parents. Jeonghan’s gaze skips over the crowd as he tries to find them. There’s so many, too many people. He’s a little grateful he can’t locate them. He wouldn’t know what to do if he saw the looks on their faces.

Back when the two of you had been playmates, your father had always teased Jeonghan about bringing you home before the sun set. Jeonghan had been so diligent, had never failed your father once, but now.

But now.

Gone like the harvest, gone with the wind, Taken too soon, though your roots ran deep in.

The earth holds your footsteps, the sky holds your name, But nothing will ever grow quite the same.

Bauble is getting restless. The mayor keeps throwing helpless glances at Jeonghan. He stares straight ahead. He has no plans of interrupting. Not this. Not when it’s for you.

In the corner of his eye, he can see you mouthing along to the words. In his honest, unbiased opinion, you were one of the district’s best singers. It kills him that no one will hear you, no one can hear you, as you give what may be your last performance for the people that have raised you.

The song crescendos. Dozens of voices, furious as the storms that rampaged through Panem and left the district on its knees.

Let the wheat bow, let the vines grieve, Let the rain fall for all we believe. If we had a choice, if we had a say, Not one of our own would be taken away.

Jeonghan hopes the Capitol cameramen are getting this, even though they’ll probably cut the broadcast. A district united in its sorrow is a dangerous one, and Jeonghan will pay a small price for letting it happen.

He will pay an even heftier price for singing along.

His tone has always been a bit on the nasally side, but the years have made it sweeter, sharper. He doesn’t have to pitch his voice particularly loud. The people see his mouth forming the words, see the way he joins in on the last chorus.

Gone like the harvest, gone with the wind, Taken too soon, though your roots ran deep in. The earth holds your footsteps, the sky holds your name—

But nothing will ever grow quite the same, he finishes, and then he finally looks towards you.

II. YOON JEONGHAN, THE VICTOR.

It had been his first reaping.

His name, in the bowl only once. His cousins had told him it was unlikely. You had reassured him it would not be him, although his concern, even then, had been that it might be you.

He had been basking in the relief of the female tribute not being you—instead being a wine-maker’s daughter—that he didn’t immediately register the fact his name had come out of Bauble’s gold-painted lips.

Twelve-year-old Yoon Jeonghan. District 11’s male tribute for the 66th Hunger Games.

You had screamed bloody murder. He remembers that. He remembers you running forward; you had always been quick on your feet.

You reached Jeonghan just in time to give him a bone-crushing hug, to babble something helpless like Come back, swear it, before you were shoved down into the asphalt by the nearest Peacekeeper.

Jeonghan had felt rage, then. Felt like he could win the Games solely based on the fact the violence had chipped one of your teeth and bruised your cheek.

He had to be dragged kicking and screaming onto stage, had to be placed next to the female tribute who looked sick at the thought of heading into the bloodbath with a literal child.

Cherry. That had been her name. Jeonghan remembers finding it ironic, because she smelled more like grapes.

He had tucked away most of his memories of the pre-Games activities, or maybe the trauma had them blurring all together. The lack of victors for District 11 meant that his mentors had been pooled from other districts.

There was District 3’s Beetee, who won the 34th Hunger Games after electrocuting the Career pack. There was District 6’s Maeve, who accidentally won the 44th Hunger Games despite being high on morphling the entire time.

Maeve trained Cherry. It didn’t do Cherry much good.

Beetee trained Jeonghan. The man had been critical, clinical. He pitied Jeonghan, though. Any time Beetee seemed to remember Jeonghan was only twelve, the victor would stutter and wince.

Jeonghan had hated that the most. That he was the youngest in the pool of tributes. That the Capitol citizens looked at him like he already had one foot in the grave.

A part of him wants to say spite got him to win. A desire to prove himself, to break the record previously held by fourteen-year-old Finnick Odair.

Jeonghan put on a good show. He charmed interviewers. He got a six as his training score after depicting particular adeptness at knife-throwing.

It didn’t matter. None of it did.

Going into the Games, Jeonghan’s morning long odds had been 60-1.

His arena had smelled of petrichor and blood.

Jeonghan blinked against the sudden glare of daylight as the plate elevated him into a clearing wreathed by towering trees. A canopy loomed above like a watchful eye, dappling the forest floor with fractured sunlight. The Cornucopia gleamed gold and monstrous at the center of the glade, its curved mouth yawning open with the promise of tools and terror.

Around him, the other tributes emerged, silhouettes sharpening into figures with each second. They looked older. Meaner.

Cherry had been across from him, eyes wide and frantic. Her hands trembled at her sides. She wasn’t looking at the weapons. She was looking at him.

Jeonghan shook his head once. A warning.

The gong sounded, and he sprinted.

The chaos unfurled behind him like a wave of shrieking metal. The sound of a throat being opened. Of someone crying for their mother.

Jeonghan didn’t look back.

His legs were short, but fear lent him speed. He vaulted a moss-slicked log, ducked beneath hanging vines, tore through underbrush until his lungs burned.

He only collapsed hours later, curled beneath the roots of a colossal tree, his palms raw, his clothes stained with dirt and sweat. He couldn’t stop shaking. Not from cold but from the weight of it all.

Cherry hadn’t made it.

He had heard her scream. High and shrill, cut short in the way all Capitol broadcasts made sure to capture. He had paused only briefly—just enough to register the voice—before running again.

It wasn’t supposed to be her. She was older, stronger.

Maeve had spent hours coaching her on traps and close combat. Cherry had taken to it well.

Jeonghan was the joke. The child. The one who should have been first to go.

He curled tighter under the roots, pulling fallen leaves around his body like armor. Beetee’s voice floated back to him: Observe. Hide. Let the others thin themselves out. You are not stronger. You must be smarter. Use their confidence against them.

Jeonghan’s fingers had closed around a flat, smooth rock. He didn’t throw it, just held it, letting the weight steady him.

That first night, the sky lit up with eight sepia faces. Cherry’s was among them.

Jeonghan didn’t cry. He thought he might never stop if he started.

Instead, he thought of you.

He told himself he wouldn’t die. Not until he saw you again. Not until he returned what the Peacekeepers took from your smile.

He slept with his back to the tree, one hand on the rock. Waiting. Listening.

Still alive.

Jeonghan stayed alive for 17 more days.

The arena was built to punish the reckless. A tropical forest that seemed quiet until it wasn't. The humidity sapped your strength. The mutant insects bit through your resolve. The rains flooded low ground without warning. Those who didn't know how to climb or swim were the first to go.

Jeonghan didn’t fight. Not at first.

He moved at night, listened more than he spoke, and memorized the rhythms of the forest. He watched the Careers from a distance as they slaughtered each other over dwindling supplies. He learned to tell which fruits made your stomach turn and which bark bled drinkable water.

He clung to Beetee’s instructions like a lifeline.

Lay traps when you can. Scavenge. Never sleep in the same place twice.

And always—always—keep your district token close.

His token had been something from you. A woven bracelet you’d made him one summer, years ago. Red thread with a tiny, smooth seed sewn into the knot.

You had called it lucky. He had scoffed.

In the arena, he held it every night like it might bring him back.

On day five, a small package drifted from the sky. Inside: a single strip of dried meat, a roll of gauze, and a note.

Keep going, little ghost.

He never did find out who sent it. Maybe someone who liked the way he vanished into the trees. Maybe someone who liked the tears he didn’t shed when Cherry’s face lit up the sky. He wasn’t sure it mattered.

What mattered was that someone out there believed he might make it.

The days had bled together. He trapped a squirrel on day six. Found a dead tribute’s knife on day nine. Avoided a firestorm on day 11 by diving into a mudflat. He never got cocky. Never came close to the Cornucopia again. When the number of faces diminished in the sky—ten, then seven, then five—he started to dream of home.

When there were three left, he knew he would have to kill.

He hated himself for what he planned. Hated the way he sharpened his knife in the moonlight and hummed your favorite songs like it might somehow remind him of his innocence.

That very innocence, shattered the moment he found himself face to face with the last of the Games.

The forest burned on the morning of the final day.

The Gamemakers had set it ablaze from all corners. No more hiding. No more waiting. They were starving for a finale. The audience wanted blood.

Jeonghan emerged coughing, soot streaked on his cheeks. His hair, once so pale and soft, clung to his forehead, sweat-slicked and singed. He stumbled out into a clearing he had once used as a water source, now parched and cracked from the heat.

Two others waited.

Cassian, District 2. Large, broad-shouldered, trained from the cradle.

Rueya, District 5. Slender, fast, clever. She had a twitch in her jaw when she was calculating.

They turned to look at him like he was a hallucination. A demon from the woods.

“You made it?” Rueya asked, her voice hoarse.

Cassian just laughed. “Twelve-year-old freak.”

Jeonghan said nothing. He adjusted his grip on the knife. His fingers trembled, but not from fear.

He was remembering.

You, shouting at him for winning hide-and-seek again. Your face scrunched in disbelief when you couldn’t find him for an hour. How the others accused him of cheating.

He hadn’t cheated. He had just watched. Paid attention. Remembered where shadows fell and what cracked underfoot.

He remembered you throwing stones at him one summer afternoon, not out of hate but frustration, yelling, You ruin every game, Yoon Jeonghan!

Maybe he did.

Rueya had struck first.

Her blade aimed for his neck. He ducked. Rolled. Kicked dust in her eyes and used the moment to run. Not far. Just enough to get them to follow.

He was small. Quick. He led them where he needed them to go. Past the tree with the false trunk. Past the buried snare he had laid on day fourteen.

Cassian tripped it. Went down hard.

A branch spiked through his thigh.

Jeonghan didn’t look back.

Rueya was faster.

She caught up by the riverbed, cornered him. Her knife was longer. Her reach, better. He bled from a shallow cut on his cheek and another on his shoulder.

Rueya lunged. Jeonghan pivoted, let her momentum carry her too far.

She stumbled. He didn’t.

Without a moment of hesitation, he slammed the heel of his hand into her nose. The crunch was sickening. She dropped her remaining blade to instinctively hold her nose, howling, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Those would be her last words.

When Jeonghan had staggered back into the clearing, Cassian was still alive, but barely. He had been dragging himself forward, face pale with pain. He looked up, eyes glassy.

"You—cheating little shit—"

Jeonghan’s knife sliced through the air and landed squarely over Cassian’s left breast. Where his heart might have been, if he had one.

The bracelet, your bracelet, blood-soaked and fraying, glinted when Jeonghan was lifted into the hovercraft.

He had been shaking, his left ear ringing from the blow he hadn’t seen coming. His knee was swelling. Both injuries never quite recovered; later in life, Jeonghan would still hear best on his right side and always walk with a slight limp.

But then, in that moment, Jeonghan had been alive. In the arena where smoke was curling up in the sky. In the hovercraft where he was deemed dehydrated, underweight, and on the brink of death himself.

You always win, you had once tearfully seethed when he kicked your ass in Duck, Duck, Goose. You always win these stupid games!

III. YOON JEONGHAN, THE LOVER.

He hears your footsteps before he sees you.

They echo down the corridor of the train like they always have, steady and sure and just a touch impatient. Jeonghan already knows it’s you; he doesn’t look up.

He keeps his gaze fixed on the swirling ice in his untouched glass of Capitol liquor, something pale and sharp that burns in his nose more than it ever will in his throat. A good number of victors had succumbed to alcoholism, but he always had you to talk him away from the bottle.

Today was no exception.

The door creaks open.

“Bauble sent me,” you say, even as Jeonghan focuses on the drink in front of him. Your voice is clipped, professional. Not unkind. “She said you need to prep us.”

He doesn’t answer right away. He swirls his drink, then sets it down with a dull clink. The ice has barely melted. “Prep yourselves. I’m not your babysitter.”

There’s a beat. “You are, actually,” you say matter-of-factly. “That’s literally your job.”

“Then I’m off-duty,” he snips.

The car smells like expensive polish and expensive drink and Jeonghan’s expensive silence. You don’t move. He can feel you watching him.

“Are you going to be like this the entire time?”

“Like what.”

“Like a jackass.”

That finally earns you a glance. He turns to look at you, and gods, it nearly kills him.

Your arms are crossed, shoulders squared, mouth set in that stubborn little line he knows by heart. You’re trying not to tremble.

He forces himself to look away.

“You’re angry,” you say, quieter now.

“Shouldn’t I be?”

“I’m the one who got reaped.”

“Exactly.”

It shuts you up. For a second. Just a second.

Then you walk forward and sit beside him. Not across from him. Beside him. So close he can smell the faint traces of that soap you always used, the one that reminds him of lemon trees, wet earth, and the sun.

“You’re not mad at me,” you say delicately. “You’re scared.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“You’re terrified, Hannie. You think you’re going to lose me.”

His grip tightens around the glass until the ice shifts, clinks.

“You think you already have,” you murmur.

Something crumbles in him then. He doesn’t cry, doesn’t scream, doesn’t shatter. He just sighs again—longer this time—and sets the glass down gently. It’s an acquiescence, an acknowledgement.

“Come on,” you say, standing. You offer a hand. “Let’s go. My partner’s probably trying to figure out how to hold a fork.”

Jeonghan only stares at your hand for a moment. He doesn’t want to fall victim to preemptive nostalgia, but he does anyway. His gaze traces over the lines on your palm, the dirt underneath your fingernails, and he thinks of all the things you’ve done. All the things you have yet to do.

You flex your fingers wordlessly, urging him. He lets you tug him up, almost all the way to the door—

—and then his hand pulls you back.

Not roughly. Not urgently.

But when his arms circle your waist, he leans forward like a man caving to gravity. He presses his forehead to your shoulder. Doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t need to.

You let him hold you.

Because this is Jeonghan, and this might be the last time he ever gets to.

You card your fingers through his hair. He stays absolutely still, as if he can keep the two of you in this snow globe of a movement if he doesn’t move an inch. The seconds stretch into minutes, and he pulls away only when there’s a knock on the car door. Bauble, this time, eyeing the two of you like she knows something.

She doesn’t know a thing, obviously.

Back in the dining car, Jeonghan leans against the polished wood paneling, arms crossed. The smell of Capitol-grade roast duck and syrupy wine thickens in the air. He watches the way Barley picks at his food like it might bite back, eyes darting from plate to window to the unfamiliar silverware.

You’re sitting straighter, trying to model bravery, but Jeonghan’s known you too long. He sees the tremors in your hands and fights the urge to reach for you.

“So,” Jeonghan says, and the word is brittle, sharp. “You both get one question each. Make it count.”

Barley frowns. He’s all knees and elbows, a thirteen-year-old with a summer tan and a coffin waiting for him at home. “How long do you think I’ll last?”

Jeonghan doesn’t sugarcoat. “Depends. You follow instructions, you might last longer than an hour,” he says.

Barley blanches. You shoot Jeonghan a look.

“He’s scared,” you say pointedly.

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “He should be.”

Your voice is steady, though your eyes aren’t. “Then tell us what to expect,” you say.

He exhales through his nose, tilting his head like he’s heard this request a thousand times—and he has. But not from you. Not like this.

The annoyance coating your words isn’t amiss to him, either. It brings him a perverse sense of comfort.

“You’ll be hungry. You’ll be hunted,” he says slowly. “And you’ll be alone, even when you’re not. Trust no one. Run the second the gong sounds. Don’t stop until your legs give out. And for the love of all things holy, don’t look back."

Barley is pale now, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Did it hurt? When they—when they came for you?”

For a second, Jeonghan sees it all again. Cherry’s panicked expression, the glint of Rueya’s blade, the snarl on Cassian’s face. He has to blink the memories away, has to focus on the fact you’re watching like you already know he’s going under.

Jeonghan clears his throat. “All of it hurt.”

Bauble waltzes in, then. “There you all are!” she chirps. “Oh, Jeonghan, you simply mustn’t hide my victors-to-be away like this. What if someone needs a morale boost?”

Jeonghan deadpans, “Morale died when you called her name.”

Bauble clicks her tongue, unfazed. While Jeonghan wouldn’t necessarily call the escort his friend, they did have a certain rapport built over years of sanctioned bonding. “Still so dramatic,” she tuts. “You’ve always had such flair.”

“You mean trauma.”

“You say tomato—” she flutters her fingers.

You smile faintly. Jeonghan sees it, the corners of your lips tugging upward despite everything. It’s too soft. Too real. It guts him.

When Bauble finally prances away to inspect dinner settings, when Barley decides he might as well spend his last few hours enjoying the pleasantries of the Capitol, Jeonghan shifts closer to you.

“You’ve always listened too well,” he says. “Even when I didn’t want you to.”

You look up. “I thought that was the point. To listen when no one else does.”

He tries to scoff, but it comes out too fond. He remembers every time you sat beside him in the fields, every time your hands were gentle when he woke screaming, every time you pretended he was still human.

He leans forward, lowering his voice. “You’re smart.”

“I learned from the best.”

Jeonghan watches you, the defiance in your posture warring with the fear you don’t want him to see. He can’t fix any of it. He knows that. But he can give you this—this small, ridiculous moment.

“You know,” he says slowly, “Barley’s too small for the Capitol tuxedos. You’re gonna have to teach him how to fake confidence. Smile like you’re selling poison as perfume.”

You laugh, short and tired. “And what about me?”

Jeonghan’s smile falters. Softens.

“You… just be you. That’ll be enough.” He pushes off the wall, straightens up. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour of the train.”

You start to move past him, but his hand finds your wrist, halting you. He doesn’t speak. Just tugs gently until you step into his arms.

He holds you like it’s the last thing tethering him to earth. Like letting go means losing everything.

“Just… hold on,” he says quietly as he slots his fingers through the spaces of yours. Usually, you told him off when he got too clingy or touchy. You weren’t together or anything, after all, and so you demanded that he be more conservative. That he reel himself in.

For once, you let him.

For once, he lets himself.

He holds your hand the entire way to the Capitol, where it’s a blur of color and shine.

For a moment, even with the dread curling tight in his stomach, Jeonghan finds himself admiring the splendor. He isn’t surprised to see you and Barley equally speechless, craning your necks as the train pulls into the station; your faces, framed in the tall, sterile windows mirroring your awe back at you.

Barley presses his hand against the glass, wide-eyed. “Is that... a moving sidewalk?” he breathes.

Jeonghan doesn’t answer. He’s too busy cataloging every flinch, every blink, every breath the two of you take. Watching the way you stand slightly in front of Barley, like you’re already trying to shield him from whatever came next.

Jeonghan loves you so much at that moment.

Bauble is chattering beside you, of course, gesturing wildly with one hand. She barely notices when Jeonghan steps between you and a Capitol attendant, his hand curling lightly around your arm.

“Stay close,” he says below his breath.

You look up at him and nod. The ease of which you trust him, the lack of questions you have, nearly bowls him over. He sticks by your side the entire way to the Tribute Tower, where the apartment is all sleek marble and warm gold accents. Impossibly high ceilings and digital fireplaces that don’t throw any heat. There’s fresh fruit on the tables and beds the size of entire haylofts. It looks more like a presidential suite than a prison.

“Holy shit,” you whisper under your breath, fingers grazing the frame of an oil painting taller than you. Barley finds the snack cart and marvels over a slice of something custard-filled.

Jeonghan hovers. He can’t stop himself. Not when you were somewhere the Capitol could get its claws in you.

When the time comes for the Tribute Parade, he’s still on edge. Still worried the stylist team will do their jobs too well, while also simultaneously dreading them not doing enough.

District 11 had always had a reputation for agricultural simplicity, which the Capitol liked to glamorize with varying degrees of taste. This year, apparently, they’d gone for mythical harvest gods. You’re draped in molten gold and deep, forest green, your arms dusted with shimmer like pollen. A long cloak of woven vines trails behind you, the ends studded with jewels shaped like pomegranate seeds and tiny bushels of wheat.

Barley dons something similar; a shorter tunic with a circlet of laurel around his head, a wooden staff in his grip that sparks gently with gold.

Jeonghan doesn’t know what to say when you step out from the dressing area.

He swallows hard. He had seen every horror the Games had to offer. But this—seeing you, radiant and ready for slaughter—is the cruelest thing.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?”

He shakes his head. Tries to say something. Fails. It’s a far cry from the practical, utilitarian clothing the two of you have grown up with. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you wear something so glamorous, and the thought of it only makes him want to run and hide.

“Hannie?” you prod.

He gets it together.

“You look—” He clears his throat. His voice goes imperceptibly softer. “You look like something no one should be allowed to destroy.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Maybe you don’t have to. After a quick glance around the backstage—to ensure nobody is looking—you reach out, give his arm a comforting squeeze.

He knows he’s doing everything wrong. It’s your Parade, your Games. He’s supposed to be holding himself better, supposed to be the one offering you reassurance and solace. Instead, you’ve taken up your typical caretaker role, and he falls apart at the mere sight of you.

When the chariots roll out and the cameras turn, Jeonghan has to stand just out of frame, mouth tight, hands clenched. The crowds react to you and Barley. Jeonghan hears none of it.

Instead, he keeps his head slightly bowed; his gaze, away from all the other tributes who will all have a kill-or-be-killed mentality.

Maybe if he wishes hard enough, Jeonghan thinks, he can stop the Games before they even begin.

IV. YOON JEONGHAN, THE MENTOR.

Jeonghan stands at the head of the training room, arms crossed, jaw tight. From this angle, he can see both you and Barley moving between stations. You’re focused, determined, adjusting the way you grip the rope at the knot-tying corner. Barley, less so. He keeps fumbling, looking over his shoulder for approval.

It should’ve been easy, this mentorship. He’d won. He knew what it took. He could recite Beetee’s advice in his sleep, every trick he’d used in his own Games carved into his memory like tally marks.

And yet, his throat burns and his hands won’t stop shaking.

He’s going to lose you.

The thought returns like a hammer strike. Over and over. No matter how hard he tries to bury it. Jeonghan drags his fingernails down the length of his arm as if pain might chase it away. He’s fairly sure he’ll have gashes by the time this week is over.

You approach without warning, your face sweaty from training, your eyes sharp.

“You can’t keep looking at me like that,” you tell him.

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve already got a gravestone for me in some plot back home.”

Jeonghan barks out a laugh—a surprised, hollow one. Your dry humor always did know how to cut through him. “I’m not doing that,” he snipes.

“You are. You haven’t looked at Barley once without wincing. You flinch every time I handle a knife. You’re not helping. You’re scaring us.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder,” you say simply. “You’re Yoon Jeonghan. You survived at twelve. You have to be stronger than this.”

He turns away from you. You didn’t know—couldn’t know—what it’s been like. Watching years of reapings, standing on the same stage, seeing child after child go off to die while he stood there, the only victor District 11 had to offer.

Every year, he makes himself hope. Every year, he trains them, watches the light in their eyes go dim as they were outmatched, outarmed, outplayed.

Every year, he fails.

He had never cried for them. Not once. Had never allowed himself to grieve. It was easier that way. To believe he’d done all he could. That they were always going to die, with or without him.

But not you.

You, who used to sneak into his house when he came home, just to leave honey cakes on the windowsill. You, who sang lullabies to him when the nightmares got so bad he couldn’t sleep. You, who had always seen him not as a victor, not as a killer, but just—

Jeonghan.

He turns back around and finds you still standing there, stubborn and unflinching. He lets out a breath.

“Okay,” he says hoarsely. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders relax slightly.

“I won’t flinch anymore,” he promises. “I won’t wince. I won’t look away. I’ll train you.”

“Good,” you say, “because you’re our final defense, and you’ve been a pretty shitty defense so far.”

He laughs. For once, it’s not forced.

You, of all people, know just how much Jeonghan’s word means. He drums up support with prospective sponsors. He talks with the victors and tries to find alliances.

He teaches Barley how to hold an arrow. He watches you throw knives and shouts out instructions.

By the time your private training sessions come around, Jeonghan is fairly sure he’s never done this much work as a mentor in the past couple of years. As you and Barley get ready to face the Gamemakers, there is only one thing left for him to do: trust that everything you’ve learned will not fail you.

The scores come in just after dinner, during a quiet lull where the four of you—Jeonghan, you, Barley, and Bauble—sit in the quarters, feigning calm over cups of Capitol-brewed tea. The screen crackles to life, and the room stills.

There’s an introduction. A reminder of why this is all done. Capitol citizens are given an idea of who to bet on based on the scores ascribed to each tribute. The private training sessions were a matter of who could put on the best show, but not too good.

Score low, you would lose out on sponsors. Score high, you would be deemed a threat by other tributes.

Scores range from one to twelve. The Careers, unsurprisingly, get nines and tens. The girl from Four gets a ten. The boy from Nine gets a four.

And then it’s District 11. Your face flashes first. A moment’s silence. Then: eight.

Barley is the first to react. “An eight?” he breathes, nearly sloshing his tea. “That’s... that’s good, right? That’s really good, isn’t it?”

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything. Not yet. He’s staring at the number, willing it to hold still, like it might evaporate if he looks away.

Then Barley’s face appears on the screen. Six.

“Hey!” Barley exclaims, grinning at you. “We didn’t do half-bad!”

You laugh quietly, nerves still wound tight beneath your skin. “Guess not.” You glance at Jeonghan, whose brow is furrowed as if the numbers have personally offended him.

“Not half-bad?” you repeat to Jeonghan, as if urging him to confirm or deny your odds.

He snaps out of his haze. “It’s good,” he says, but his voice is tight. “It’s good. You both did well.”

Barley’s too thrilled to notice the tension. He retreats into a quiet hum of excitement, and Jeonghan watches him go to his room, heart aching at how young he still is.

You stay behind. You know better.

“He’s proud of his six,” you say softly. “You should be proud of us, too.”

Jeonghan finally meets your gaze. “What did you do?”

You shrug, but your eyes are shining. “Used a sickle. Told them I’d only ever used it on weeds, not people. Then showed them I could take the heads off three practice dummies in under ten seconds.”

He stares.

“Okay, maybe eight seconds,” you admit with a sheepish grin. “But still.”

“Gods,” he mutters. “Why would you tell me that?”

You tilt your head. “Because I need you to believe I have a shot.”

Jeonghan presses his fingers against his eyelids. Eight. A real shot. That’s what it means. But the Capitol loves nothing more than raising hope just to snuff it out.

And so he tries not to feel hopeful. He tries.

“I’ll be ready,” you say, your voice pure as the driven snow. “You made sure of that.”

He exhales slowly. He has to believe it. For your sake. And Barley’s. And for the twelve other faces in his head, the ones he couldn’t save. He opens his eyes and looks straight at you.

“Just keep doing what you did today,” he says. “And I’ll do the rest.”

He does what he can, but there is only so much he can do.

By the time the pre-Games interviews come around, he knows you will have to write your own ending. Even in the viewing room where Jeonghan sits with Bauble and a glass of untouched wine, it feels like every bulb is trained on the screen, on you.

He hasn’t breathed since your name was announced. He probably won’t breathe until your interview is over.

Barley’s had gone well. Nothing to call home about. He had been your typical young tribute, showing off boyish charm and vouchsafed innocence.

You, on the other hand, look devastating.

The prep team had broken their backs to make it work. Your outfit—woven in silks dyed the color of ripening wheat, dotted with reddish sequins like the leaves from trees—catches the light with every small movement. Your hair is twisted back in a braid like the reapers wear during harvest. And your smile, shy but steady, is enough to hush even Caesar Flickerman.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he croons, gesturing with flair, “from District 11, please welcome our stunning tribute!”

You walk forward, gracious and poised. Jeonghan clenches his fists in his lap. It feels like every step you take toward that stage is a step further away from him.

“Good evening,” Caesar says. “You’re quite the sight tonight. The Capitol is enraptured already!”

You laugh lightly. “It’s not every day someone from my district gets to wear something this fine. I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.”

Jeonghan flinches. He knows that tone—modest, self-deprecating, practiced. You’re playing your part. He just wishes you didn’t have to.

Caesar chuckles, his teeth gleaming. A shark, ready to draw blood. “Now, I’ve heard you’re quite the singer. Is that true?”

“Depends on who you ask,” you reply, to the laughter of the crowd.

Jeonghan stares. He knows how nervous you are. He knows how tightly you were wound in your quarters, how your hands shook as you ate. But here, under the scrutiny of all of Panem, you are luminous. You can joke around with Caesar; you hum a little tune when asked.

You are everything they want you to be.

He hates it. He loves it. He doesn’t know what to feel.

Caesar leans forward after your little song. His eyes glitter. “And tell me—I think everyone wants to know,” he says conspiratorially. “Our only Victor from District 11. Jeonghan. The youngest ever to have ever won the Games. A little birdy has told me the two of you are… close.”

Jeonghan goes rigid.

Bauble mutters something under her breath; Jeonghan thinks it might be a cuss. On screen, Caesar keeps his smile, but the question lands with precision.

You tilt your head, feigning thoguthfulness. “Jeonghan is my mentor,” you say. “But more than that, he’s my best friend.”

The audience lets out a collective murmur.

Jeonghan grips the arms of his chair.

“He’s the strongest person I know,” you say. “And I’m lucky he never gave up on me. I’m going into these Games with more than most. I have his faith.”

The crowd bursts into applause.

Caesar touches his chest theatrically. “Well, if that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

You smile. It’s a momentary slip in your carefully curated image, as if the thought of love and Jeonghan brings you a genuine sort of joy. The audience catch that, too, and the applause only gets louder.

Jeonghan lets out a breath. Not quite a sob. Not quite relief. But it’s something.

Because if he can’t protect you with his own hands, then he’ll let the Capitol fall in love with you. Let them send gifts, parachutes, lifelines.

Let them see what he’s always seen.

Later that night, Jeonghan finds himself staring at the ceiling.

The lights are off, the room mostly dark save for the faint Capitol glow filtering through the windows of his bedroom. It bleeds silver against the walls, but Jeonghan’s eyes are trained on the shadows.

He’s been lying here for over an hour now, still in his clothes, hair unwashed and face unshaven, unable to summon the will to move. The interview replays in his head, your dress still shimmering in his memory, your voice steady and luminous beneath Caesar's showmanship.

You’d been a star. You—his star. And tomorrow, you will be in the arena.

He breathes out, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes until colors burst behind his lids. The pressure does nothing to stop the ache in his chest. Jeonghan sits up.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t.

He should stay put and not make this harder, but his body moves before his mind can catch up, and he’s halfway to your door when he finds you already there.

You’re barefoot. Wrapped in a soft Capitol robe. Your hair is tousled from tossing and turning, and your arms are folded tightly around yourself.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you murmur.

His breath catches. “Me neither.”

For a long second, the two of you stand like that, inches apart, both unsure of what to say. Then Jeonghan steps back and pushes the door open wider.

“Come in.”

You don’t hesitate. You pass him with a soft rustle of fabric. He closes the door behind you and watches as you climb onto his bed without a word.

You’ve done something like this before. Too many times to count. But tonight, there’s no laughter. No quiet jokes. Just the hum of something deep and heavy.

You lay down on your side. Jeonghan crawls in after and faces you.

Usually, you’re the one who pulls him close when he startles awake from a nightmare. Usually, you’re the one whispering him back to sleep, pressing your fingers to his hairline and reminding him that he’s safe, he’s here. There’s no fire, no forest, no bloody bracelet.

Tonight, he wraps an arm around you instead.

Your nose brushes his collarbone. He feels your breath, warm and steady, and he shuts his eyes.

He wants to say it.

That he loves you.

That he has loved you from the moment you first yelled at him in the fields for cheating. That he has spent years loving you in silence, nursing the shape of your name in his chest like a prayer.

But the words rise to his throat and die there. They taste too much like a goodbye.

So instead, he presses a kiss to your forehead. This one, he thinks, is for the notes you two passed each other back in school.

Then one to your temple. For your parents, who he will now never be able to look at.

Then your cheek. For the time you threw out all the alcohol in his home and yelled at him until he agreed to only drink on special occasions.

A soft one to your eyelid. For your singing—the best in the goddamn district.

He kisses every part of your face except your lips. He doesn’t think he’d be able to stop, if he ever started there.

When you whisper his name, when you tuck yourself tighter into his arms like you mean to mold yourself into his very body, Jeonghan only holds you closer.

In a few hours, he will have to let you go.

But not yet.

Not yet.

V. YOON JEONGHAN, THE SINNER.

The arena comes into view and Jeonghan feels his stomach turn.

It’s a swamp.

Endless, waterlogged land choked with moss and trees heavy with rot. Mud so thick it might as well be quicksand. A heat haze distorts the sky in a way that makes it seem closer, like the clouds might melt onto the kids below.

The air looks like it stinks. Jeonghan knows it does. He’s smelled swamp before in the southern end of District 11, in the marshlands after the harvest. Stagnant water swallowing the weeds whole.

But the Capitol has made it worse. Of course they have.

The swamp is dotted with platforms. On screen, the tributes rise, one by one, as the countdown begins. All of them retch. A few are already shaking. One kid—the boy from 10, maybe—looks like he’s crying. Good. He won’t last an hour.

Jeonghan doesn’t look for Barley. He looks for you.

Your vitals blink steady on his monitor: elevated heart rate, but within reason. No signs of panic. Your face is unreadable on the screen, jaw set, eyes cutting ahead toward the Cornucopia or what passes for one in this muck.

It’s a wrecked fishing trawler, run aground in the center of the swamp, half-covered in algae and rust. Supplies are lashed to the deck with ropes, weapons tucked into fishing nets. Booby-trapped. Jeonghan knows it. The Gamemakers always hide teeth under the sugar.

“Swamp,” Seungcheol says, appearing beside him. The District 4 mentor. Tall, sun-weathered, wearing that half-smile Jeonghan used to think was charm and now knows is armor. “Our kids might actually stand a chance this year.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jeonghan replies without looking up.

He stares at your vitals. At your small figure on the screen. Still not moving, not even a twitch of hesitation. Just watching, waiting. The same way he’s seen you watch the sky from the train window, like you’re searching for something worth staying for.

The countdown hits zero. The gong sounds.

The Games begin.

The cameras flicker between chaos and slaughter. Screams crack the air, tinny and sharp over the Control Center’s monitors. Blood is spilled in less than five seconds—twin blades from District 1 find the neck of a smaller boy, and the Career pack forms with terrifying speed.

Jeonghan’s eyes scan screen after screen until he finds you.

You’re running—not to the Cornucopia, thank the gods—but to the left, where a pile of knapsacks and canteens are scattered among debris. You duck, swipe two, and pivot just as another tribute lurches at you.

Jeonghan’s heart stutters. You use the knapsack like a flail, slam it into their face, and bolt toward the trees.

Fast. Smart. Alive.

Barley is slower. He lingers too long, fumbling with a coil of rope. He nearly loses it when someone charges at him, but a girl from Six takes the hit instead. Her scream rises—then cuts off abruptly.

Barley scrambles, barely escaping with a dented pot and a bottle of water. He doesn’t make it far, but he’s alive. For now.

A cannon fires. The first.

The room of victors stills as the screen flashes the casualty to them.

District 12’s girl.

Jeonghan glances to his right, where Hansol is already on his feet. The victor doesn’t say a word. He just unplugs his data pad and walks out, the steel door hissing shut behind him. Jeonghan watches him go.

No one says anything. They rarely do.

District 12’s boy goes down not long after. Another cannon. Another name. Hansol won’t be back.

The bloodbath drags on. It’s brutal, but not long. Six tributes die before the hour is up. Jeonghan leans forward, tracking the green blip that marks you on his pad. You’re tucked in the trees, breathing hard. You’ve stopped to bury yourself beneath leaves and branches, taking a note straight out of Jeonghan’s playbook.

Next to Jeonghan, Seungcheol lets out a breath and mutters, “Good luck.”

“I don’t need luck,” Jeonghan replies, voice hoarse. “I need a miracle.”

Your green blip continues to blink.

Please stay that way, Jeonghan thinks.

You eventually make your slow, measured way through the muck of the arena. The swamp is vast, ringed with spiny trees, their roots like skeletal hands clawing out of the fetid water. Fog coils through the underbrush. Every few hours, something hisses or howls from the shadows. It's hell in technicolor, broadcast to every screen in Panem.

You move with caution, dragging your left leg slightly—favoring the ankle you twisted on the first day, slipping on moss-covered stone. He winces every time he sees you falter.

Capitol patrons have been generous.

You’re pretty, and that counts for something. The dress they stuffed you into during the Tribute Parade did what it was meant to do. More importantly, you spoke like someone worth listening to during the interview. You’ve earned your sponsors. Jeonghan watches the pledge count climb.

But the funds dwindle faster than he likes. Bandages, food, painkillers—they cost more than you’d think. The sponsors pay for entertainment, not mercy. And half the job of being a mentor is making the calls no one else wants to make.

Barley hasn’t eaten in two days.

Jeonghan sees the boy stumbling along the banks of the stagnant pond, mouth cracked dry, trying desperately to chew a reed that isn’t remotely edible. His heart twists. Barley’s vitals flicker. Pulse dropping, dehydration setting in.

Jeonghan’s finger hovers over the interface. He has enough to send a protein bar. It’s not much, but it’ll get the kid through another day.

Then, you scream.

It’s sharp, sudden, a sound that guts him. On-screen, you go down hard, hand clutching your side. Blood blooms at your waist, seeping into the saturated soil. A mutt. Something you had gotten away from through the skin of your teeth.

A silver parachute of life-saving supplies cuts through the arena. It is not for Barley.

The cannon fires that night. A low, guttural boom. It is not for you.

Jeonghan closes his eyes. He can imagine it already. The projected photo of Barley, lighting up the night sky. Announcing his death. Broadcasting Jeonghan’s failure.

He exhales slowly, jaw clenched. It should never have come down to a choice.

But it always does.

He doesn’t check your reaction. He doesn’t think he’d survive it, anyhow.

Hours later, the camera feed switches to your sector. For the first time since the Games have started, you’re not alone.

District 7’s boy—the one with the heavy shoulders and steady hands—and District 9’s wiry, sharp-eyed tribute fall into step beside you. Glances are exchanged. Supplies are shared. It’s enough. For now.

Jeonghan doesn’t like it.

“She always this trusting?” Jihoon asks from where he’s perched near one of the monitors, arms crossed tightly.

“Not usually,” Jeonghan replies, cool. “Must be desperation.”

Seokmin leans against the paneling, softer, more optimistic. “They seem like they’re good kids. Maybe it helps her chances.”

“Or maybe they’ll gut her in her sleep.”

Jihoon frowns. “They’re not like that.”

Jeonghan doesn't respond. He watches you divvy up some dried fruit, offering the larger portion to the boy from Nine, who grins and says something the cameras don’t pick up. You smile back, faint. Tired.

A part of Jeonghan wants to tell you to run, but he also knows you won’t get too far.

The tentative truce lasts for three nights.

On the fourth, you’re the one on watch. Jeonghan knows you haven’t slept more than a couple hours at a time. You’re running on adrenaline and stubbornness.

At midnight, the boy from Nine rolls over. Pretends to murmur in his sleep. You lean in to listen, and Jeonghan nearly screams at his screen.

The boy from Nine pounces.

The boy from Seven follows a second later. They work in tandem, practiced.

They hold you down, your legs thrashing against the swampy ground. You’re muffled by the palm of a hand over your mouth.

These things happened. Jeonghan watched it year in, year out. But never to one of his, never to—

The cameras zoom in just in time to catch the glint of your blade as it drives upward into the shoulder of District 9’s boy. Always keep your weapon within reach, Jeonghan had advised you. Even when you’re half-awake. I had a rock. Have—anything.

Seokmin’s tribute howls. You break free.

Jeonghan’s fists are clenched. He doesn’t breathe until you’re sprinting through the trees again, bleeding but alive.

A couple of seats away—Jihoon and Seokmin share twin looks of horror.

“I didn’t know,” Jihoon croaks.

“Neither did I,” Seokmin murmurs, paling. “Jeonghan, I’m—”

But Jeonghan rounds on them like a storm breaking over the Control Center. He’s up on his feet in the next moment, angry in a way that nobody has ever seen. It confirms the rumors that had been swirling, puts down the cards that he’s held so close to his chest.

“Didn’t know? That’s all you’ve got?” Jeonghan snarls as he yanks Seokmin away from the panel, nearly sending the victor to the ground. “You raised these motherfuckers!”

“They’re tributes, Jeonghan,” Jihoon snaps back, maneuvering so he can also face Jeonghan’s rage. “They’re just trying to survive.”

“So is she!”

Bauble grabs Jeonghan by the elbow before he can do any more damage. “Enough,” she commands. “Outside. Now.”

Jeonghan shakes her off but lets himself be steered out of the room. The door shuts behind them with a heavy click. He presses his back against the cold wall, jaw clenched.

Bauble doesn't say anything. Just waits. Escorts typically didn’t interfere at this point in the Games, but Bauble had taken it upon herself when she seemed to realize how much of a hold you had on the man that was supposed to be keeping you alive.

Jeonghan covers his face with his hands. He doesn’t cry. He just breathes like he might come apart.

Inside the Control Center, the screens roll on. You’re alone again.

When Jeonghan returns, nobody talks about his outburst. There have been worse. Actual physical alterations. Victors spewing cusses, calling each other monsters. Forgiveness always came after the fact, but Jeonghan chooses peace and refuses to look at anyone else for the next hour.

The swamp only grows crueler.

There’s a haze that clings low to the ground, thick with spores and heat, and it makes the cameras flicker with static.

The Gamemakers let it linger. They always do when the numbers dwindle. Suffering looks better through distortion.

Jeonghan leans forward in his seat, eyes locked to the primary monitor. Your figure stumbles into frame—mud-caked, limping, one arm clutched uselessly to your ribs. The blood there isn’t fresh. He knows what that means.

The camera’s too far to see your expression, but he doesn’t need to. You’ve gone quiet. No more traps, no more clever distractions. No more running. You’re just trying to stay upright.

Something shifts in the mist behind you. Fast. Deliberate. Another tribute.

Jeonghan’s fists slam into the console.

He doesn’t hear the rest. The monitor blares as the tribute from Two emerges—a heavyset girl with a jagged blade and fury behind her eyes. You try to run, but your body gives out two steps in. Your knees hit the water first.

It’s not a fight. It’s a beating.

Jeonghan’s knuckles go white. He watches you crawl, desperate and drowning, as the girl drags the blade across your calf to slow you further. The water goes dark. You barely scream.

The camera cuts to a tight shot. Your face, smeared in blood and mud. Mouth slack. Eyes unfocused.

Then—

Your lips move.

Tiny. Cracked. Fragile.

But he sees it. He swears he does.

His name.

Hannie, you’re mouthing, pleading, praying.

Bauble says something behind him. A warning. A reminder. Jeonghan doesn’t hear it.

Jeonghan stands too fast. The chair clatters to the floor behind him. His hands press to the screen like he could reach through it, like if he could just touch you, anchor you, you’d remember how to live.

But the screen stays cold, and you go still.

Jeonghan’s breath shudders in his chest. He turns wildly like he might find something in the corners of the room to fix this.

The remaining victors pointedly ignore his panic. They can’t do anything, either. They’re not about to waste their few resources on a tribute that isn’t theirs, even if Jeonghan begged and bled himself dry at their feet.

There’s nothing. Jeonghan has given you everything he has, and it wasn’t enough.

Until the vitals blink.

Once. Twice. Slow, but there.

A faint pulse.

You’re alive.

Jeonghan stares, disbelieving. The tribute has already vanished into the haze, too bloodied to check if you’re breathing, or cruel enough not to care. Either way, it’s a mistake. One Jeonghan won’t let stand.

He reels back from the screen. “Stay with her,” he tells Bauble, voice rough. “Monitor everything.”

Bauble looks up. “What are you—”

But he’s already moving. Out the door, down the corridor. The Peacekeepers outside the Control Center don’t stop him.

There had always been whispers.

That Jeonghan was the victor they couldn’t market. The one with the too-sharp tongue and eyes that didn’t flinch when Capitol cameras pressed too close.

He smiled wrong. Loved wrong. Didn’t cry when his family died in that fire.

Too clean. Too convenient.

It had given him nothing to lose.

But now—

Now he has you.

He finds her at the champagne bar just off the Viewing Floor. Gilded, powdered, draped in silk. The richest woman in the Capitol within arm’s reach. Her name doesn’t matter.

Jeonghan takes a breath. Thinks of you.

Then he smiles.

The kind of smile they remember. The kind that sells promises he’ll never keep. His voice is velvet when he approaches, belying the desperation thrumming through his veins.

“You wanted to know what it was like to be wanted by a victor,” he says in lieu of a proper greeting, brushing her wrist with his fingertips. “How lucky. I’ve just remembered how to want.”

The socialite laughs. Bright, predatory.

He keeps smiling, even as his stomach turns. Even as the shame claws at the inside of his throat.

Her room reeks of expensive perfume and debauchery.

It’s in a suite at the top of one of the Capitol towers, walls made of glass and floors of velvet. It's the kind of place meant to make you feel small, make you grateful. Jeonghan doesn’t feel anything at all.

She kisses like she wants to devour him—painted nails digging into his back, her breath warm with wine and old longing. He lets her.

He performs.

Every soft sound, every graze of his lips, every practiced flick of his tongue—he gives it like it means something. He moans where she wants him to, touches her the way she’s probably imagined in her loneliest hours. He thinks of your face, dirt-smudged and bloodied, of the shape your mouth made when you whispered his name.

It’s not her he’s kissing. Not really.

He imagines it’s you beneath him. Imagines you needing him like this, touching him like this, loving him like this.

It doesn’t help.

She arches beneath him and calls him beautiful. He’s a bit clumsy, having never done any of this before, but it only serves to make him more endearing. A gorgeous thing that had to be broken in.

He had wanted it so badly to be you. He can almost picture it, can almost taste it. How you’d laugh in between kisses. How you’d moan as his hands roamed. How you’d be everything and more.

When the woman cries out, Jeonghan doesn’t answer. His eyes are already on the ceiling.

It’s over in minutes. A quick, efficient transaction wrapped in silk sheets and false gasps.

She sprawls beside him, sated, smug. Jeonghan slips from the bed before she can say anything else. She doesn’t ask him to stay. She already knows how these things go, having sampled her fair share of male victors who were just as desperate.

Jeonghan doesn’t shower. Doesn’t have the time for it.

He just dresses in silence, pocketing the cred-chip she leaves on the table beside a crystal flute of champagne. He doesn’t drink it.

The elevator ride back down is quiet. His hands tremble.

By the time he returns to the Control Center, his mask is back in place. Bauble doesn’t say anything, just glances at the chip he slides across the desk.

“Enough for a full care package,” she confirms. “Weapon, medicine, some soup. We’ll drop it.”

Jeonghan nods and looks back to the monitor.

You’re still breathing.

He presses his palm to the screen again and thinks of the myth you had loved so much as a child. The one with the fool—Orpheus, his name might have been—trying to lead his lover out of hell.

“Wait for me,” Jeonghan croaks to no one in particular. To you. Always to you. “I’m coming.”

The silver parachute lands. You reach for it with quivering fingers.

You live for two more days.

In those days, the swamp falls quiet.

No more cannon fire. No more mutts. Just you and the girl from District 4, standing ankle-deep in water that smells like rot and victory.

Your blade is slick in your grip, hands trembling. You don’t even know where you’re bleeding from anymore. Every inch of you aches. Your body doesn’t feel like your own.

The girl sways on her feet. She’s young. Too young. Her cheeks are streaked with mud and old blood, her breathing ragged. Her eyes are empty.

You both know it ends here.

“Please,” you choke out. It takes a moment to register that you’re not begging to survive.

The words come with tears, with all the wreckage of what’s been done to you. “Finish it,” you rasp, your fingers tight around your scythe not with the intent to strike. Just to have something to steady you.

Your opponent doesn’t move.

Up in the Control Center, it’s just Jeonghan and Seungcheol.

Everyone else has gone. The other victors. The escorts. This is between two districts, two tributes, two victors.

Jeonghan doesn’t look at Seungcheol. He can’t.

Back in the arena, you crumple to your knees, exhausted beyond belief. The swamp laps at your legs.

“Please,” you whisper again. “Please.”

The girl’s hands tremble. She looks at you like she’s seeing something else—someone else. She takes one step forward, then stops. Her fingers close around the handle of her knife.

You don’t flinch.

Then she speaks.

“You know Seungcheol, right?”

You blink, confused.

She forces a smile, small and broken. “My mentor,” Seungcheol’s tribute offers. “Tell him—tell him I’m going to miss him the most.”

Manipulated footage makes it look like you pushed her backward.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol see it as it happens. How the girl takes an intentional step back. How you reach for her, trying to stop her, only to watch her sink in quicksand that has been exacerbated by the Gamemakers.

The arena swallows her up.

The cannon doesn’t fire for several long seconds.

The sound, when it comes, is muffled. Like the swamp itself is mourning her.

You scream. You scream until your throat gives out. You’re still screaming as you’re declared the victor, as you sob into the wetlands, as you’re lifted out.

In the Control Center, Seungcheol’s hands curl into fists in his lap.

His eyes fixed on the screen. Dry.

Jeonghan finally turns to him. “Cheol—” he starts, but Seungcheol shakes his head.

“She’s coming home,” Seungcheol says, flat. “There’s your miracle, Yoon.”

And Jeonghan is sorry for it, sure, but he’s still much more grateful.

V. YOON JEONGHAN, YOURS.

Jeonghan doesn’t remember the walk to the Capitol hospital. He remembers leaving the Control Center. He remembers running.

The hallway is sterile and humming when he gets there. He knows where they’ve taken you. Of course he knows. He’s watched every moment of your suffering. He could trace the outline of your wounds with his eyes closed.

The nurse outside your room says something—protocol, maybe. He doesn’t hear her.

He shoulders his way in.

The lights are dimmed, the machines are quiet, but the sight of you lands like a gut punch. Jeonghan falters in the doorway.

You look like you’ve been hollowed out.

There’s barely anything left of the tribute he watched fight through blood and betrayal. Bandages snake around your limbs and torso. Your face is pale beneath layers of grime they haven’t scrubbed away yet. Your lips are split. Your eyes—

You don’t even blink.

He takes a step closer, slow, careful, like approaching a wild animal. His hand lifts, fingers reaching for your cheek, like he might cradle it the way he used to in the dark of the Control Center, whispering to your image like you could hear him.

But the second he touches you—

You flinch.

Hard.

Jeonghan’s heart stops. His hand drops back to his side like it’s been burned.

You don’t look at him. You just tremble, shoulders curling in, your breathing shallow, your eyes still fixed on something beyond him. Beyond the room. Beyond now.

It’s the first time you’ve ever pulled away from him.

He doesn’t know what to do with that.

Part of him wants to fall to his knees. To apologize. For what, he couldn’t name. For not stopping the Games? For not being able to keep you from breaking? For still being here when so much of you has been scraped raw?

The silence presses in like swampwater, like a forest fire. Suffocating, unforgiving.

Jeonghan turns and lowers himself into the corner of the room. The floor is cold. The chair is too far. He needs to be here, close, even if you can’t stand his touch.

He wraps his arms around his knees and stares at you.

Your stare doesn’t move. Not to him. Not to anything.

He’s seen this look before. He wore it once, too.

Jeonghan swallows past the ache in his throat and speaks, barely audible. “I’m here. I’ll stay here. As long as you need.”

You don’t respond.

He doesn’t expect you to.

He settles into the silence like a penance and waits.

He waits for you to go through all the medical procedures. He waits for you to get an entire day's worth of sleep. He waits, even as the stylists dress you up like a doll.

Gossamer fabric, soft pastels to soften your image. Something that whispers vulnerability, not violence. They work in silence, careful around the raw edges of your skin, the lingering bruises.

You don’t wince anymore. You just endure.

Jeonghan watches from the wings of the stage, heart in his throat.

The stage lights bloom too bright. Caesar’s teeth gleam under them like weapons. The audience cheers. Applause swells.

And you? You walk out on trembling legs.

There was a time your smile could light up a room. Now it flickers, half-formed, and dies before it reaches your eyes.

Caesar catches your hand, holds it up for the crowd. You don’t pull away, but Jeonghan sees it—the way your fingers twitch, like they remember what it’s like to hold a weapon.

“Our newest victor!” Caesar announces. The crowd roars.

Jeonghan leans forward in the shadows. He wants to run to you. To shield you from the cameras, the crowd, Caesar’s well-meaning questions that twist into knives.

“How are you feeling?” Caesar asks.

Your voice is soft. Hoarse. “I’m alive.”

A ripple of awkward laughter. Caesar tries to coax something out of you, a joke, a quip, the spark you once had. But it’s gone. Buried so deep, not even you know where to look.

Your fingers keep trembling. You tuck your hands in your lap to hide it.

Jeonghan watches every second.

They want a victor. A hero. A darling. But all they get is a shell.

And Jeonghan can’t do anything but watch.

They crown you in front of Panem.

Golden laurels rest atop your bowed head, catching the light like a final joke. President Snow stands behind you, hand heavy on your shoulder.

You don’t shirk. You don’t cry. You barely breathe.

Jeonghan stands at the lower steps of the stage, jaw clenched tight.

The crowd is euphoric. Flashbulbs pop. Your name chants through the air like a war cry, over and over, and all Jeonghan can think is how hungry they look. Like they want to eat you alive.

You rise slowly when Snow lifts your chin. He presents you as the Capitol’s newest sweetheart—shattered and bloodstained and beautiful.

Jeonghan’s stomach twists. He hates it. The theatrics. The flowers. The falseness. The way they cheer for your trauma.

Later, at the afterparty, the music swells and champagne flows. You sit somewhere under a too-bright chandelier, being toasted by strangers with leering eyes.

Jeonghan tries to keep to the fringes, but he doesn’t escape for long.

The President finds him near the garden terrace, glass of something untouched in Jeonghan’s hand. The air stills around them like the world knows something dangerous is coming.

“Quite the victor,” Snow says mildly. “She’s memorable. Fragile in a way that sells well.”

Jeonghan says nothing.

Snow steps closer. His smile is polite. Tight. “You should be proud. The Capitol hasn’t felt this invested in years.”

A beat.

“Of course,” Snow adds, sipping from his flute, “such devotion comes at a price.”

Jeonghan’s throat tightens.

Snow glances at him, all cool amusement. “Do thank that patron of yours again. Very generous. Desperation makes strange bedfellows, doesn’t it?”

Jeonghan goes cold. His skin prickles. He can’t move.

“She’s lovely, your girl,” Snow goes on, seeming unconcerned by the conversation that has been one-sided insofar. “I do hope she doesn’t become... inconvenient.”

And with that, the devil leaves.

Jeonghan stumbles through the crowd, past gilded dancers and glass towers of champagne. He finds a bathroom, locks the door behind him, and falls to his knees.

He vomits until there’s nothing left.

Even then, he doesn’t stop heaving.

He empties himself out and drinks some more until he’s sick again. He thinks of what it means to be a victor—what you stand to lose if you don’t bend to the Capitol’s will.

Will you blame him for doing his job as a mentor? Will you wish you could’ve been like Seungcheol’s tribute, could’ve ended things clean and quiet like Barley?

On the way back to District 11, the train hums softly beneath the two of you. A lullaby for no one.

You sit by the window, forehead pressed to the glass, eyes on the blur of passing scenery. Home. Whatever that means now.

Jeonghan sits across from you. Not too close. Not too far. Just... there.

It’s been hours since either of you spoke. Days, really, because the most you’ve given Jeonghan are pleasantries and nods and thousand-yard stares.

Sometimes, a cruel part of him thinks it’s a fate worse than death.

Your voice breaks the silence like a match in the dark.

“I’m sorry.”

Jeonghan blinks himself out of his hungover stupor. His fingers tighten around the edge of his seat as he looks towards you, searching. “Why?”

“For flinching.”

His chest caves around the answer. “No,” he says quickly, too quickly. “Gods, no. I should be the one apologizing.”

You turn to him. Just barely. But he sees it in your eyes. You know.

He swallows. Tries to laugh, like it might smooth the sharp edges.

You don’t smile in return.

Jeonghan’s heart beats like a war drum. He wants to say something that makes it okay. That makes any of it okay.

But there’s nothing. Just the soft hum of the train. The ghost of everything that can never be undone.

“You saved my life,” you whisper.

He looks at you, really looks at you this time, and it almost ruins him.

Because he did. And he didn’t. Not really.

He pulled you out of the arena, but the arena never left. It will never leave. It lives in your eyes now. In your silence. In the way your shoulders curl inward like you’re still waiting to be hurt.

This is it.

Your lives now.

This train. This distance. Mentorship, and memory, and never quite touching because love is too heavy a thing to carry on top of nightmares and broken backs.

Jeonghan turns his gaze back to the window. He tucks his love for you deep, where it can’t rot anything else. It won’t do you any good now.

You may warm up to him one day, may come to forgive all he did to keep you around for longer. But as the song once did go—

Nothing will ever grow quite the same.

The train speeds on.

Outside, the sprawling fields of District 11 come into sight.

#jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan angst #svthub #keopihausnet #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt angst #seventeen angst #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #jeonghan fic #(🥡) notebook #(💎) page: svt

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rambling-at-midnight · 7 months ago

Text

Guide Me Home

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: While walking downtown, you inhale fear toxin. It's up to the Bats to find you before your heart gives out.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Scarecrow attack, (kind of) graphic hallucinations (only a small allude to blood though)

Fun fact: As I wrote this, 'quiet' started to not look like a word anymore.

You rub at your eye, muttering below your breath. Wind has been whipping through the Gotham streets all day, drying out your contacts to the point of discomfort.

The next time you blink, one flips up. Cursing, you cup a hand over the affected eye and blink until the stupid contact rights itself. Digging around your purse, you find your suspicions to be true: after the last time you needed to use your emergency backup contacts, you forgot to replace them. The small bottle of contact solution is missing, lost to the abyss of the purse or somewhere else. All you know is that it’s not here.

The only alternative is your glasses, and those are always a last resort. With an outdated prescription, uncomfortably heavy bridge, and scratched lenses, they’re far from ideal.

It’s fine. You’ll splash some water on your face when you get to the cafe and blink a lot. They’re fine.

Your friend is already sitting by the time you get there, but hasn’t ordered their drink yet. You haven’t seen them for several months, though you used to see each other every day during undergrad. They’re only here for a work conference. They live in Metropolis now, and are wearing an ‘I SURVIVED MY VISIT TO METROPOLIS’ shirt to show it. A couple Gothamites around them are actively laughing into their hands at the sight of it. After all, compared to this city, really nothing is worse.

After the usual greeting, hug, and exclamations over how long it’s been, you say, “Sorry, but my contact’s actually killing me right now. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll watch your stuff,” they say cheerfully.

The bathroom’s about as good as someone could hope for in Gotham. The remains of scrubbed-away graffiti lingers on the wall around the mirror, and a paper towel with a suspicious red stain hangs over the edge of the trash can. Not quite the vibe this place is going for, judging by the painted ivy around the walls and the hanging plants, but oh well.

You blink, squeeze your eyes shut, rub them, and open them again. Much better.

There’s a drink in front of your friend by the time you make it back to the table they found, pushed in the back corner where things are a little quieter. “They have seasonal syrups,” they say, sipping the drink. “Though a lot of them are named after supervillains.”

You scoff and shrug off your coat. “Please. Clayface is hardly a supervillain. He’s just a washed-up actor.”

“That must be nice,” your friend says wistfully. “Did I tell you I had to replace my car last month?”

“No!”

“Yeah! Some alien dictator had beef with Superman. A lot of cars were thrown in that fight.”

“Ugh,” you say wistfully. “We had some good memories in that car.” They’d had it since undergrad.

“Gone but never forgotten,” they say, holding their cup up for cheers, and you both remember that you haven’t ordered anything yet.

Even though you’re on a bit of a caffeine ban—boyfriend’s orders—you order a coffee. One a day won’t hurt you, not when you were averaging at least four during the recent busy season. The pathology lab you work at always has a huge rush of biopsies ordered between Thanksgiving and New Year’s. Now that it’s a little into January, you’re not scrambling quite so much.

With your drink in hand, you head back to the table to keep catching up. Your friend started a new job with a much better boss than their old one. They’re thinking about proposing to their partner of five years. Their dog got into their family’s big holiday meal and they had to order last-minute Chinese takeout instead. And they can’t decide whether to cut their hair or keep growing it out.

Then it’s your turn. You’re four years into your job at the lab, kind of feeling like you want a change, but the generous Christmas bonus is making you think twice. Your apartment is okay but not nice. Your cat is healthy and happy and extremely spoiled. Your family lives across the country, all with separate plans, so you stayed in Gotham for the (surprisingly uneventful) winter.

“What did you do for the holidays, then?” your friend asks, their drink long since finished. Judging by their eyes drifting back to the counter as you speak, they want another.

“My boyfriend’s family celebrates Hanukkah and Christmas,” you say. “Nothing too fancy, of course, none of us are terribly religious. But it was nice to see each other on a regular basis for a week straight.” Jason would disagree, but only out of principle. “We’re all busy people.”

“And your boyfriend? Jason, right? How is he? What does he do for work, again?”

Here comes the hard part. No matter what happens in your personal life, you can’t talk to anyone about it unless they’re in the know. Keeping Gotham safe requires a fairly large system; you and several other scientists or similar professionals are able to contact the Bats through Leslie Thompkins, Lucius Fox, and Commissioner Gordon, but of that number, only a fraction know their identities.

Working overtime at the lab as a new hire, you were the only one Leslie could reach at midnight when Black Bat came in contact with a mysterious substance through an open wound. From midnight to eight a.m., you collected blood and skin samples with hands that shook under the scrutiny of Batman’s white-lensed gaze. Your treatment was a gamble but a success, and after that, the Bats started to come to you more and more. So many of their rogues use biowarfare, after all. Still, it took over a year for Black Bat and Spoiler to take off their masks around you. At that point, you’d only seen Red Hood once, when he brought Robin in and ordered you to never tell Batman that he’d done so. Months after that, he took off his helmet around you, but only because of a nasty cut on his neck, and the domino mask beneath it stayed on. You’d known each other for a year and a half before he spoke more than five curt words to you at a time. Analyzing a new street drug was the first time you two ever worked together, and it was fun. After that, he just kept coming back.

It took so long to gain their trust, and you won’t risk it. But there are so many secrets. How can you explain to anyone else that not only is your boyfriend related to Bruce Wayne—yes, the Bruce Wayne of Gotham, billionaire, CEO, activist, and philanthropist—but he is, in fact, the man’s very publicly dead son?

So you can tell people about your boyfriend named Jason. You can’t introduce him to anyone from outside Gotham; the jagged scar on his cheek and glowing green eyes tend to raise more questions than answers. You can mention that he has a large family. You can’t tell them who his family is. You can tell them that Jason works flexible hours, usually at night, so the two of you see each other often despite your busy schedules. You can’t tell them what Jason actually does for work.

“He runs a not-for-profit community service organization,” you lie, the words familiar and tasteless from how often you’ve had to say them. And he sort of does, but with a lot more violence and criminal cavorting than most other not-for-profits. “He’s really passionate about helping Gotham’s kids that come from low-income households.” The foster system reform laws passed last year were lobbied by Wayne Enterprises, but it was the Red Hood showing up in politician’s houses in the dead of night that really sped up the process.

“I talked to Avery the other day,” your friend says. “They’re convinced you’re making him up.”

You sigh. Avery is another friend from college. You two were in the same friend group for years, but were never particularly close outside of it. “We don’t like to take pictures together, okay?”

Your friend eyes you with a faint air of dissatisfaction. “Well, if you say so. I was actually hoping to meet him while I’m here.”

You try not to let it show how your heart leaps into your throat at the thought. Around the lump, you say, “I’m sure he’d love to, but he’ll be stuck all day at the office.” Lie. He’s at home right now, baking muffins and wearing an apron with the words ‘Kiss the Cook.’ Damian and Tim scribbled over the two ‘S’s with Sharpie to make it ‘KiLL the Cook,’ but the sentiment is still there.

“Right,” they say slowly.

The meetup doesn’t last long after that. At the end of it, you hug and promise to meet up more often, even though it’s unlikely. With a wave, they head off for their conference, and you’re almost out the door when you blink wrong and—

Half the world goes blurry.

You feel the contact fall down your cheek and onto the ground.

“Goddamnit,” you hiss under your breath.

Glasses it is.

You’ve been wearing contacts for so long that you can take out the other one without breaking stride. The wind hasn’t let up in the slightest, and it makes your nose run.

Sniffling slightly, shoulders hunched against the chill, you don’t see the pumpkin until it’s too late.

They’re after you.

It’s not safe, not for you, not for anyone, they want you, they’re grabbing you, hands on your shoulder, people screaming—screaming at you—for you to stop—no—for—for something to stop?

Something is wrong. Dimly, in the back of your mind, you know something is wrong, but your hands are shaking and your bag is ripping, someone is clawing at you, screaming, desperate, they want you to fall back so they’re safe (from what?) and someone else shoves you and you go spinning out, bag in one direction and you in the other and—

They’re changing, the person clawing at you, turning into a monster, and you scream.

They’re after you

(who is after you)

They want to hurt you

(why)

(what is going on)

And you can’t see, something is wrong, you hear glass crunch and then the whole world goes out of focus.

You can’t see.

They’ll get you if you can’t see, and now you can see them, the dark shapes rising from the shadows, claws out and maws gaping, hungry, hungry, hungry for you and your marrow and your heart and they’re going to get you—

You run.

You trip over something (or someone; something like a bone crunches) and your heel slides and your hands catch you but not really, chin clipping the ground so hard your teeth click, and your hands burn, and your chin aches, but they’re still behind you, behind and getting closer—

You run.

You run and they get closer and you see the corner of something dark and blurry, and maybe it’s another monster or maybe it’s a building, and you skid to a stop and throw yourself behind it.

It’s not a monster. It smells awful—a dumpster—and the ground is wet, you hope from rain, but maybe it’s blood

(you’re sitting in a pool of it)

(you’ll be covered)

(the monsters will smell the blood and come running and they’ll hear you shuffling, they’ll hear you panting, they’ll hear your heart pounding, pounding, pounding—)

You scramble to the farthest corner between the brick building’s corner and the dumpster—maybe their clawed arms will be too short to reach you—and hide your face in your hands—you need to stop breathing so loudly—you need to be quiet, quiet, quiet—

People continue to scream. The city, the city Jason and his family try so hard to protect, everyone is dying and you’re going to die and maybe they’ll die, too, or maybe they’ll survive, and maybe they’ll find your dead body and that would ruin Jason, or maybe they won’t and you’ll rot behind the dumpster, smelling just as bad as the trash inside it—

Quiet quiet quiet.

You can’t stop shaking, your teeth won’t stop rattling, and you have to be quiet quiet quiet.

But your heart keeps pounding, faster and faster. It hasn’t slowed down since the monsters came, it’s only getting louder and faster.

Dimly you think you might be having a heart attack.

Everything gets a thousand times worse when one of the monsters shouts your name.

How do they know your name?

Footsteps on the pavement and people have stopped screaming.

Dead, you think. And you’ll be next if you’re not quiet quiet quiet.

The monster shouts your name again. It’s louder—they’re closer. You curl into a tighter ball. They can’t find you.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Your chest hurts; your heart wants to jump out of it.

Jason, you think wildly. Jason will save you. If Jason finds you, he’ll keep you safe. Your hands fish at your side, but find empty air: your purse is gone. There’s no way to reach him, and he can’t even track your location through your phone.

The monster shouts your name again. It has a deep voice.

Another voice joins it, deeper, pitched lower. You can’t quite make out the words.

“They’re around here,” the first monster insists. “B, we don’t have long, this strain is strong—”

“They’re strong,” says the second monster. “Their heart can handle it.”

Something thumps and a third monster says, “Everyone else is clear. Signal had to take two people to the hospital, but they’ll be fine, don’t look so upset, B.”

“You have the antitoxin?” the first monster demands.

“Relax, Hood,” drawls the third monster. “‘Course I do. So you tracked them here?”

“Yeah, I just—” Again it shouts your name. It sounds almost upset. “Please, it’s me, I can help you. Come on. You’re safe. You inhaled fear toxin, I know you’re terrified, but it’s me. You know me.”

It’s trying to lure you in. You won’t fall for it.

You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath. Let them move on. Let them search somewhere—

“There you are.”

A hulking figure is blocking the light.

The monsters found you.

“Stop it!” you yell, trying to sound brave. “Leave me alone or—or you’ll regret it!”

“Please,” it wheedles, “I’m just trying to help you. Don’t you recognize me?” It reaches out with clawed hands and you kick frantically, but there’s nowhere else for you to go.

“Hey, aren’t these their glasses?” asks the third monster. “What happened to their contacts?”

“Don’t come any closer! The Red Hood will get you, I know him, if you hurt me he’ll kill you! Stop it!”

“I’m really sorry about this, honey,” the monster says, and its clawed hand latches around your ankle and you howl. The sharp points dig deep through skin into muscle and sinew, and it hurts and you’re going to die—

“Jason!” you shriek. “Jason, help me!”

“I’m right here,” the monster lies. “Please, I’m right here, look at me—”

You won’t. You won’t do it. You can’t watch while it kills you. “Jason, please!” you bawl again, but it’s too late. The monsters have you, you’re surrounded, he’ll never forgive himself but what could he even do against them—

Sharp teeth dig into your neck.

You’re dead.

“There we go, darling,” the monster says. Strong arms wrap around you—it wants to crush you to death—and you struggle, but there’s no use.

Except—

You can hear now, kind of, the rush of blood in your ears is receding a bit, and something heavy lands on your nose. This time, when you blink your eyes open, the world’s edges have sharpened. And the monster in front of you—

Well, you recognize the dark hair with a shock of white, and the brilliantly green eyes would be visible if not for the white-lensed domino mask, and the jagged scar on his cheek.

“Jay?” you murmur, hand coming up to touch it. He doesn’t flinch away. It took so long for him to stop flinching when you touch his face. Over his shoulder, you see Batman and Spoiler watching with satisfaction and slight worry. “What happened?”

“Scarecrow,” he says grimly. “He gassed the street, but only about twenty people were affected. I was patrolling nearby, and when I saw your purse on the ground—” He grimaces, then fixes you with a hard look. His two hands can span most of your head, and he takes it to press a firm kiss to your forehead. When he pulls back slightly, without looking away, “I want their heart checked.”

“The antitoxin—” Batman starts.

“I don’t care,” Jason snarls.

Your hands loosely hold his forearms, still shaking a little. “How’d you find me?”

“I tracked you,” he says softly.

“But my phone—”

“Honey,” he says gently, “of course that’s not the only one.”

Well. You should have guessed that, honestly.

“I’ll go check on the victims,” Batman says suddenly. “Come on, Spoiler.”

“Glad to see you’re okay,” Spoiler says to you, then dashes after Batman. In a whirl of capes, they’re gone.

“I’m so sorry,” Jason says in a rush.

“Jay—”

“I should have protected you,” he grits out, white lenses turning to slits as he squeezes his eyes shut. “This should never have happened—”

“You couldn’t have known,” you say softly, letting go of his arms and wiggling beneath them to wrap yours around his torso. Your nose wedges against his chest kind of uncomfortably, but now you can smell him, the familiar gunpowder and a little bit of sour sweat, and the faint tremble in his bones that mirrors the one in your hands. He clutches you close, head buried in the crook of your neck.

He croaks, “I’m so sorry, so sorry, so—”

“You saved me,” you mumble into his armor. “I knew you would.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“Jay.” You pull back to look at him seriously. “Even when I couldn’t think straight, I knew you would come. I’ll always know that, no matter what toxin’s messing with my head.”

Judging by the twist of his mouth, he doesn’t quite believe that. He’ll beat himself up internally for days, you know.

But you also know that while Bruce runs his tests in the Cave to make sure there’s no more toxin in your system, he’ll hold your hand the whole time. You know he’ll hold you tight in the bed you share tonight. You know, as long as Jason lives and breathes, he’ll always protect you.

“I love you,” he says thickly. “So much.”

“I love you too.”

“Let’s get you checked out.” He helps you up and holds you close and you know that you’ll be okay.

Jason’s here, so you’ll be okay.

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3 @bellathecatastrophe

Let me know if there's anything you want to see from me. Inspiration strikes at odd intervals, and I get lonely.

#reader insert #jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #dc insert

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linkenthusiast · 28 days ago

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Sleeping headcannons

What I feel like each Link would do when it’s time to go to bed with you! (Slight mention of kinks but nothing too big)

Sky

- oh our favourite sleepy cuddle bug ugh, we love a physically clingy man that can manhandle you to bed.

- not without consent of course hehe.

- he’s definitely clingy in bed too, but unconsciously chokes you by 3 am when he’s having a couple dreams (let’s be real, all Links have nightmares…)

- Whether he’s being spooned or is spooning, he’s a happy man.

- could literally fall asleep with only you being his blanket and him being your heater.

(Side note, did you know that women generally feel colder because their inner heat is like 5x more than men? It’s also less spread out so women’s hands and feet just get randomly SUPER COLD compared to men who have a cooler inner body temperature who don’t experience that! All Links take advantage of this to make you feel warm even if they don’t know the reason behind it.)

- being in skyloft makes you 10x colder too, so sky is probably holding hands and holding feet 24/7 in your sleep.

- he’s a light snorer, but fully alert, always ready to protect with a bit of a sleepy stance.

- he probably sleeps with a shirt and some pants, used to having a bit of clothes due to cold weather in skyloft.

- sky does this thing where he shoves his hands up your back just to feel more skin contact. He’s definitely a skin-to-skin type of cuddler—he’d solely take off his shirt for it.

Time

- Our Daddy issues man, or at least for me he is. Ugh the comfort he gives when he gives you a simple hug, IMAGINE sleeping with this man and his shirtless glory hugging you into his toned chest…

- okay got a little carried away but honestly who doesn’t love that. He’s definitely the spooner in the relationship but can be spooned depending on his mood (cough cough, nightmares)

- definitely stays awake at night sometimes not believing that his life is real or that you are real.

- his funny habit is that he DEFINITELY snores LOUDLY when he’s in a comfortable space with safe people and safe everything

- that’s when you KNOW he’s happiest than ever.

- probably sleeps with one eye open otherwise (not that he has a second to use. No I don’t regret that.)

- if you both can’t sleep, you guys will probably chat each other’s ears off till you do or sit in comfortable silence.

- he loves having you beside him, having that one comfortable warm spot always being there with him through very terrifying nights

- you’re both working through his nightmares, and maybe one day you might not have to worry about that at all.

Warriors

- now I’m gonna be fully honest, average man who likes flirting with women definitely had NO IDEA how to sleep the first time y’all went to bed together.

- the awkward straight board of shock realising that you guys are sleeping next to each other. (Not sex get your mind out of the gutter)

- however, you wake up the next morning and your trapped within his arms, unable to get out, and he’d place a couple kissed on your jaw to mess with you.

- definitely also kinda sleeps with one eye open, not much of a snorer…Or so he says but you know he’s a loud one when he’s DEEP in sleep.

- he loves playing with your hair when you can’t sleep.

- curly, straight, wavy, long, medium, short, he’ll find a way to style it in your sleep, you’d wake up with an amazing hairdo (that’s probably disastrous).

- he likes circling patterns on your arms too, like trace it and memorise the FEELING of your skin. He thinks it’s super soft compared to his hand and body that’s littered with scars from his battles.

- sleeps shirtless, keeps a knife under the pillow.

- no one will take this happiness from him.

Twilight

- biggest cuddle bug! Second to sky of course, but a big cuddle bug nonetheless.

- he LOVES spooning you to smell your shampoo, he falls asleep to it and your regular scent.

- I swear to god this guy just has a scent kink but he genuinely finds comfort in it. Hell he even loves shoving his face in your neck when you’re sleeping to take a whiff and fall asleep in an instant.

- bro knows how to fall asleep like in the military, tight routine and schedule and all, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t wake up from nightmares too.

- I wanna say his nightmares are the WORST just simply because his world is so horrific. (The amount of jumpscares I had while playing TP is insane)

- insufferable in summer, this motherfucker is a walking furnace and sadly y’all can’t survive the heat at night, so you decide to link pinkies (hahahaha pun) or tangle legs or something and everything else is treated like it’s gonna give you covid.

- sleeps shirtless, heavenly ripped muscles that you wouldn’t miss the chance to trace before passing out.

-you both have your own weird kinky habits (I think I have it too.)

Hyrule

- poor bby oh my god, third cuddle bug in the list, I was gonna give that spot to Wild but Rulie my baby…

- he deserves all the love, definitely gets spooned often but would love to spoon every now and then too.

- also sleeps with one eye open, monsters constantly out for him isn’t safe for either of you.

- I kinda headcannon that he gets visions of monsters or like a feeling that they’re nearby, call that fairy intuition.

- however, when in a safe spot he’s clinging onto you and completely passed out, like nothing but you matters in his little world.

- likes to sleep with his clothes on to always be able to be on the move, otherwise he’d sleep with a random comfy oversized shirt of yours, yeah he’d steal.

- he’s still a Link, he has to be a menace SOMEHOW.

- on the nights he stays awake, he loves fully paying attention to you and whispering all sweet things about how amazing you are and how he’s such a lucky guy to have a pretty gal like you.

- would move your hair out of your face softly and memorise your every feature, worse, probably worship the land you slept on.

- and he’d 100% give you loads of kisses throughout the night. He feels that if he doesn’t appreciate you enough you might leave. Be sure to pay this bby back tenfold.

Four

- he’s so genuinely complicated I don’t even know where to start.

- he feels like the most normal in the group, with lack of a better word, despite having his personality split shit with the four sword.

- on regular nights, he sleeps close. He’s not a clingy sleeper but he won’t mind you and him mingling limbs together.

- doesn’t mind being spooned or spooning. If he feels like it though he’ll be super affectionate when you guys face each other, he’ll hold your face and place kisses on the corner of your eyes to get you to giggle before sleeping.

- he smiles softly when he hears you laugh, honestly he’s a happy man. God forbid you’d be a sleep talker and he’d be having full conversations in your sleep because he simply loves hearing your voice.

- he sleeps shirtless.

- he’s definitely warm, but Four himself is better for summer while he usually splits for winter when you find your hands and feet growing supper cold.

- you’ll find each colour sticking to one side to help you warm up. The clinginess order being Red, Green, Vio then Blue.

- Blue’s a shy tsundere don’t worry he’ll come around <33

- Vio doesn’t mind being affectionate since he logically knows that it’ll boost your happy system (dopamine but do they know what that is? Hmm) and warms you up.

- green just likes helping, being super close to you is a literal bonus that he takes with cheers in his heart

- red is clingy for the sake of being clingy, helping is the bonus—

- Four is a mix of snores, sometimes he’ll be loud, sometimes quiet and sometimes no snores at all.

- he’s definitely one of those that doesn’t get nightmares as often, but sometimes loses touch of reality and has to ground himself in the middle of the night by just focusing on you.

- he loves you lots <333

Wild

- you won’t be able to sleep with this guy.

- unless you tie his hands and legs and body up to the bed, you won’t be able to sleep with him, he MOVES…A LOT.

- his dreams are the biggest reason for his active movement in his sleep.

- you guys decided a great solution was wrapping him like a burrito and you sleeping while hugging said burrito.

- all jokes aside, he doesn’t move every night but he still sprawls out like a star fish.

- your best bet is sleeping on him so that he’s grounded and is reminded not to move at night because you could get hurt.

- plus as a descendant of Twilight, has a bit of the urge to just smell your shampoo while you’re on top of him.

- another one that loves stealing your clothes, but he lets you steal his so he sees it as fair trade.

- hugs you super tight when he gets nightmares, he doesn’t know how to deal with them so you might have to wake up and shush him down to help him a bit.

- otherwise he might stay up the rest of the night unable to sleep, but hey, at least you’re sleeping peacefully.

- he might just pass out again while he’s sleeping with you like that.

- he does the same as hyrule where he whispers how much he loves you, but not to the same extent as him.

- he’d do a lot for you.

Legend

- hardest for last, tries to be less clingy but can’t help it and gives his act up really early on.

- he loves being spooned, he’s always suffered being a protector and having all these jobs and people to protect, he just thinks it feels nice to not have that pressure on him in his own comfort home.

- he definitely waits for you to sleep first so that he can take his time admiring you or tracing patterns all over the skin if your side, arms or cheeks.

- it’s a little silly but he always wishes for you to have good dreams, he has slight eyebags from his bad ones but you being there and staying there helps with it.

- he sleeps with a shirt on and surprisingly doesn’t snore at all.

- he loves having your legs on him and your arms around him like a little koala. He thinks it’s cute and he gets to just feel you way more so it’s a win win for him.

- I feel like he’d also be a whiner, he basically whines about affection when he’s feeling more comfortable with you but he’d be SUPER embarrassed if that got out.

-loves putting his face in your chest to listen to your heartbeat, he falls asleep to it constantly and promises it’s the best sleep he gets every time.

Wind (platonic also short, mb)

- I feel like Wind would also have nightmares and clings to you throughout the night.

- you’d be shushing him quietly when he sobs about a dream and you both would stay up chatting about stories that you know, experienced or heard of

- Wind definitely falls back to sleep with that, still clinging to you but with a smile on his face.

- he’s happy he’s got you to rely on when the night seems so cold and terrifying.

#linked universe x reader #lu sky x reader #lu four x reader #lu x reader #link x reader #lu legend x reader #lu hyrule x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu wild x reader #lu time x reader #lu wind x reader #platonic of course #lu warriors x reader

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possesseddesiress · 2 months ago

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The Midnight Ritual (Part One)

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

The Midnight Ritual, part one (English Version)

Don't ask me how this all started, because even I don't know.

Jacob and I were friends since high school, approximately. He was almost my best friend, we used to do everything together, and we were very trusting of each other, something that causes me even more guilt about everything that ended up happening...

I had bought a magical contraption from an esoteric store, I didn't think it would work but as the days went by, the more curious I became to try it out.

And I thought Jacob was the best way to corroborate such a thing.

Jacob's body was big, strong, charismatic and nice. He used to go to the gym a lot, was popular in high school and very friendly.

I wasn't as popular, but I wasn't invisible either. I was well known although my physique was not very above average, somewhat average. Sometimes I went out with other guys but almost never got serious, I guess my insecurity influenced a lot when it came to dating.

That magic object was supposed to give me the trust of another person, as long as he agreed.

I talked to him, nervous that he would tell me I was ridiculous or foolish. But on the contrary, he gladly agreed. 《Whatever you need, buddy》 - and we began the ritual.

Apparently nothing happened, until the first full moon came after that.

I was sleeping when I felt a strange force pull me from my body, until I was thrown into what felt like nothingness, I panicked until I breathed again, opened my eyes in fear.

I sat up in bed, breathing heavily, and I sat there for a while, trying to calm down until I felt heavier. More... Thicker?

I looked down, finding huge pecs. Thick and juicy, it was hard for me not to gasp, instead I just kept groping myself like crazy. I squeezed my new muscles, flexed my arms not believing how big they were.

Everything was so new, so strange... I didn't even notice what room I was in. I lifted my shirt, revealing a formidable six-pack, flexed my biceps again, feeling the strength and power they seemed to emanate, and without being able to control it, the relief on my pants began to rise.

Eagerly I pulled my clothes down, wrapping my hand around my new shaft. I stroked it slowly, at first, but the more I began to move it, the more anxious I began to become. My toes tensed as I gasped loudly, I was sloppy with the movements, erratic. Just stamping my hand up and down.

I was absorbed in my thoughts, blinded by pleasure, clumsy and foolish, with a fuzzy smile. Then I looked ahead, noticing the pattern of the room? Why did it look familiar? I let out a confused grunt but kept moving my hand. It wasn't until I saw the ceiling that I realized where I was, though it was too late.

I let out a choked gasp, feeling my nectar dripping down the sheets with force, some of it even ending up on my face. I took a bit to put it in my mouth, smiling at the taste.

When the euphoria subsided, I realized what was happening. I noticed more of my body, observing the reliefs until I noticed a bracelet on my right arm. It was identical to one I had given Jacob some time ago, and he never took it off.

Shit, shit, shit.

I stood up suddenly, turned on the light to reveal my friend's room, then stood in front of the mirror, noticing that I was now inside his body. I flexed my arms in confusion, it was all so... strange, but it still felt good. I felt powerful, strong; I flexed my arms more, enjoying the sensation of my muscles widening, I even noticed a slight scent of sweat, so I raised my arm a little more to free my access to the armpit, and inhaled with pleasure.

- Mfhh... Jeez dude, you smell good - I let out a slight chuckle, sniffing again with need.

I think that's where it all went down. Since that was seven months ago, I discovered that Jacob wasn't aware of that whole effect, he was falling asleep somewhere in his unconscious, though everything he did in his body, seemed to have repercussions for his psyche. Staying recorded as a common and ordinary habit, it was strange and a little unhinged (because I could do nothing but watch), to see him sniffing and flexing his arms like the most common thing in the world.

And what about my body? It seemed to go into an automatic mode, my "mind" was not aware that I was inside Jacob, so it treated me like him. I wasn't even aware of the magic object, it was as if only I knew that after such a ritual, I could stay in my best friend's body for a few hours, initially, I could only access it during full moons. But all of a sudden, I started to be able to do it every weekend.

It wasn't even because I wanted it or asked for it (though I certainly wasn't complaining), but I would end up in Jacob's body once one or the other fell asleep.

It was uncomfortable, as I had no control over it. One day during class, I was in chemistry class when I felt that invisible force pull me out of my body to throw me into Jacob who just fell asleep in history class.

I always tried to respect Jacob's body, to leave no trace of my presence. No mark that could affect him, living as close as I could to his initial style. But it was hard to keep my composure in such a... tempting body.

For the first few months I managed it well, but as the months progressed, the mission fell apart. The clothes my friend used to wear to work out were quite modest, loose and baggy, although one day I just couldn't take it anymore.

I put on short shorts, which showed off my new legs and my new bulge, I liked the feel of the fabric, even how others seemed to look at me. Even that day I became more exaggerated with my movements, as if I wanted to highlight more my butt in each squat, or my biceps when lifting each weight. Gosh, my chest from just walking.

And there was another change for Jacob, his closet changed drastically, now he only wore fitted clothes, tight fitting compression shirts and tiny lycra shorts that highlighted his bulge and his fat buttocks.

I was almost ogling him every day, what was I doing?!

It was as if I was transforming my friend to my most primitive desires, I was afraid to erase all traces of him. But at the same time... How could I control myself? It was automatic, I couldn't do anything; in his body things felt different, they smelled different, they even treated me differently, and that was the other point that fucked the whole thing up even more.

I had ended up at a party that Jacob was invited to, he had taken a nap and in less than five minutes I was in the driver's seat.

I dressed up to attend, wearing nothing but a blue tank top, if Jacob was already an exhibitionist, it wouldn't affect much, would it?

From the first moment I walked into the party, the vibe felt... different.

How people greeted me, the discreet touches and squeezes as I moved through the crowd. I didn't even know where to go, I was so lost that when I least expected it, I was in the middle of the room with a bottle steeped in my mouth.

- Drink, drink, drink! - what seemed to be at least 60 people were shouting in unison with excitement, apparently Jacob's body had a good stamina or a deep throat because he seemed to finish at least half of the bottle in mere seconds.

Although I started to feel dizzy - and to make matters worse, more uninhibited - I moved with some difficulty around the house until I ended up in a somewhat far corner, having a drink.

- Hey, hi.

A guy came up to me, smiling and winking. Holy shit.

I had always been gay, I knew that and everyone who knew me, I know Jacob was straight, so I tried not to do anything gay on his body, mainly so I wouldn't change that trait about him.

- Hey, how are you?

I felt a strange tingle of security, I stood in front of him, casually flexed my arm, which seemed to charm him. I didn't know if I was slurring my words but the feeling was... Strange, I don't know how to describe it exactly but it felt different than all those times I tried to flirt with someone else. It felt... Good.

In less time than I expected, we ended up kissing intensely in one of the rooms of the party, with him anxiously trying to unhook my shirt, I knew it was all wrong. I had kissed a man on Jacob's body, I was about to have something that would only close this thing I had done by accident, but the more I tried to think, the more softly that boy kissed me on my neck.

- Easy, big guy... - he murmured feeling my muscles, enjoying the volume - let me take care of it.

And then Jacob started having homosexual tendencies.

- I just don't get it, man. I mean, I don't have anything against gays, it's just... Well, it's not something that's ever happened to me, you know? I experimented before, I tried things before but I didn't feel anything, now it's like out of nowhere... I feel that urge.

- Maybe it's because you're older now and you're still discovering yourself, don't you think? - I lied shamelessly.

- Yeah, yeah... I think so, man.

Jacob became quite the casanova with the guys, I didn't know if it was because of my acting at that party or if it was just my orientation mixed with his natural charisma, but there he was... Having as many guys at his feet as he wanted, it seemed there wasn't a trace left of his former interest in women.

And that made me jealous, while, I loved the attention I was getting from the guys and the great fact that I no longer had to modulate for that part being Jacob, at the same time... It was impossible for him to notice me on his own. He only saw me as his friend, almost a brother, he couldn't even see me with those eyes if he wanted to.

At that point I guess I lost all my reasoning... But wouldn't you have done the same?

To be continued.

----

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

---

#mental change #straight to gay #twinktohunk #possesion #malebodyswap

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lovelywyenn · 9 months ago

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“Handsome As Always”

★Tengen Uzui x Hinatsuru Uzui x Makio Uzui x Suma Uzui x fem!Reader★ Synopsis★Tengen’s confidence was always off the charts. But after loosing his arm in the entertainment district battle…he hadn’t been feeling like himself. Luckily he always has you and his wives to make him feel like the most desired man in the world. ★Includes★Praise, Slight degradation, Deep throating, Dick sucking, Clit Rubbing, Fingering, Squirting, Making out,★ ★W.C★3.8k

“Y/n can you pass me a hand rag” Your wife Suma says.

She stares at you and waits for you to respond to her. But you never do, too distracted by your husband. He was watching himself in a mirror. Tengen didn’t have his usual smile like he did when staring at himself. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mirror.

In his reflection, he saw himself. White hair, purple pupils, strong build. It was him but…how could it really be him. He only had one good eye now, and one of his arms was practically no longer.

He felt like a shell of himself, no longer flashy and no longer a Hashira. Tengen felt like…nothing. An average man, a broken one.

You all had been worried about Tengen lately. Noticing how down he had been. Your husband, usually, a happy and laughing man. Was just…gone. Drowned in a fleet of sorrow.

It broke your heart to see him so tired, it seemed that even looking at his reflection in the mirror exhausted him.

“Y/N!” Suma says a little louder than before. And finally you hear her, after her third attempt at calling your name. “Y-Yeah babe?” you say, turning to look at her.

“Can you pass me a hand rag?” she asks again, and you’re quick to hand one over to her. She takes it gratefully, using it to wipe her hands. She watches you, lips forming a tight line.

“Still worried about him?” Suma questions.

You sigh at the question, “Of course I am” you say, “Just look at him, he’s been so sad lately”

Suma nods in agreement, eyes watching along with yours at Tengen as he moves to the bedroom. Makio and Hinatsuru wander into the kitchen along with you and Suma.

“Why’s the mood in here so depressing?” Makio asks, a gentle hand sliding around your waist. She gave your side a comforting squeeze, as if she could tell that everything was weighing down on you.

You cross your arms, hugging yourself close as you speak, “I know he says he’s fine but I can tell Tengen’s not feeling like himself lately”

The problem brings a frown on Makio’s face. Everyone had noticed it. His confidence had gone, and with it the spark in his heart.

“That is true” Hina says, “Maybe he just needs…a reminder” she continues.

Suma quirks a brow, “A reminder?”

Makio nods along with the idea, “Okay, yeah, I get it. A reminder that he’s still the same him he was before the battle in the entertainment district”

A smile graces your face at the thought of finally being able to help your husband crawl out of this funk he had been stuck in. “That’s a good idea! Maybe if we show him we still see him as the same man from before…he’ll start to believe it again too.”

Everyone in the room knew that tomorrow night was gonna be fun. Especially when Makio’s eyes flashed with red hot mischief.

“I think I have the perfect Idea” she says.

—-------------------------

Today felt like every other day to Tengen. It was a dreary day, rainy and dull. Just like he had been feeling lately. But he still had a family to take care of and a home to keep fed. So by early afternoon, Tengen was off to a nearby market to pick up groceries.

As soon as he was gone, and far enough away for his keen ear to hear of your plans. The four of you still at home got to work. Everything was Makio’s idea. You all had your fair share of sexcepades together, but this by far had to be the most exciting. By no means were You, Hinatsuru and Suma innocent. But Makio was on a whole ‘nother level, insisting that she knew exactly what Tengen needed to get right back to himself.

Before Tengen even walks through the door, the potent smell of candles fills his nostrils. But even better than the vanilla smell filling his lungs, was the sight of you. He was quick to put down the groceries he cupped in his arm, using his free hand to slide it around your waist.

“Well well, where’d you get this pretty little thing from?” he asked as his heavy thumb dragged over the fabric of your silk robe. The pretty dew gray complimenting your smooth skin. He could feel just by the firm touch of his hand on your hip, that there was nothing underneath the thin fabric.

Your nimble hands reach around his neck, dragging him down for a soft kiss. The kiss made him smile, kissing you always did. As you pulled away you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. It was always nice to see him smile. It had been so long since you had.

“It’s a surprise…”You finally answer him, grasping onto the hand on your hip to lead him upstairs.

His eyes trail down your figure, loving your confident strides. The sway of your hips was gonna kill him one day, not that he would mind. He would go out that way any day.

You lead him all the way to the bedroom, where he was met with the pleasant surprise of the rest of his wives, in robes that fit on them the same way yours did.

Makio and Hinatsuru sat up on the bed, lazily kissing at each other. Hina, dominant as usual, had control of the kiss. Makio’s fiery temper always disappeared when Hina dealt with it. Pushing down the shorter girl’s need for control and beating it with her own. It was a sexy sight, the two women making out sloppily on the master bed, a teasingly long leg draped over Hina’s hip, while said girl squeezed at the flesh of her wife’s fat ass.

Tengen’s eyes reluctantly teared away from the erotic sight just to meet another. Suma, perched next to a comfy chair situated in front of the bed, had two fingers stuffed as deep in her as she could manage. She was trying to keep quiet, you could tell. But her efforts were futile. She could never stay quiet when she was horny.

You move to sit Tengen in the seat in front of the bed, your hands gliding against his shoulder’s massaging into the flesh. He turned to you, confusion painted on his features as he stared at your pretty face, the candle light of the room illuminating your skin. “W-What’s all this?” he questions.

The massage you gave against his shoulders was so relaxing. But his body felt restless. An embarrassingly quick hardon rising under his yukata. “Like I said…” you draw on, lips near his ear. Warm breath fanned against the skin and you giggled at the shiver he let rake down his body. “...It’s a surprise”

“We planned it just for you,” you tell him. “A show for the sexy, amazing, and handsome man we love”

He outrighted moaned as your hands slid against his chest, and your plump lips bit at the sensitive shell of his ear, “All you have to do, pretty boy, is sit back and let two pretty girls kiss all over you….”

Your kisses trailed teasingly down his neck. Licking at the flesh just to bite at it meanly. Just the way he did to you so often. “...While you watch two pretty girls kiss on eachother” you finish your sentence.

You watch with a chuckle as his dick twitches visibly, under the fabric of his traditional wear. “Someone’s excited” you muse, “Suma why don’t you take care of that...problem for him, will you sweetie?” you ask.

Suma nods, listening to your words. She pushes Tengen’s meaty thighs apart, mouth watering at the imprint of what’s waiting for her. The eager girl settles herself between her husband's legs. Reaching up to undo the tying of his yukata. She leans out of the way as his heavy cock nearly hits her in the face. She eyes the exposed flesh hungrily, from his thick pecs, to the scarred skin of his abs, to the thick and angry head of his dick.

Everyone had a role in this operation, Makio’s plan was flawless. It was no secret that Suma possessed an oral fixation like no other. There was nothing that got the delicate girl wetter than giving nasty, sloppy head. And Tengen loved it. Not just because Suma’s mouth was otherworldly, but because he loved how bad sucking him off turned her on. It made him feel wanted, needed.

Meanwhile, you were the excitement. Your voice did things to Tengen that even he couldn’t explain. The silky words that left your mouth, talking him through everything he was feeling. Directing him on where to look, how to feel, what to do. It was one of his favorite parts of you.

Makio and Hinatsuru were two roles rolled into one. One of the reasons Tengen loved Makio was her attitude. It was respectable and flashy. But the girl knew what Tengen loved to do was see her broken down. So desperate for him that she would do anything to have him. But no girl could take Tengen’s cock without prep. So what better than a sexy woman like Hinatsuru to get Makio nice and ready for her lord’s cock in which she craved so desperately.

Tengen had his eyes trained on Suma, watching the girl press kisses against his thigh, running her fingernails up and down his stomach, just to see him shiver and twitch.

One of your firm hands grasp his chin, forcing his view back up to the bed. His lip slips between his teeth as Hinatsuru pulls Makios' robe completely off of her. Revealing her body to Tengen’s eyes. From here he could see the way the girl’s eyebrows were pinched in pleasure, tongue rolling along Hina’s.

The taller girl maneuvers or rather man handles Makio into the position she wants. Hina’s back is pressed against the headboard, legs trapping Makio‘s back to her front. Keeping the naked girl spread out so Tengen could get a good view at how messy Hina had gotten that little pussy. Just from a bit of groping and kissing.

He watched with focused eyes as Hina kissed against Makio’s neck, bruising up her pale skin. Hina was usually softer with him, preferring loving and sensual sex that would go on all night. But with her wives there was like a switch flipped inside her. She was rougher meaner. Treating your cunts as if they were nothing more than a toy. A toy she loved to use more than anything.

Hina’s nimble fingers moved to squeeze at Makio’s tits and as much as he wants to watch, his eyes flutter close when Suma finally wraps a hand around his cock. A moan tumbles out of him as she tugs on the dry flesh, spitting on it to get the rod as wet as she needed it.

You tap at his cheek, tutting in his ear when his eyes aren’t open, “uh uh, big boy. Open those eyes for me” you tell him with the sexiest pout in your voice as you speak.

He listens to you, eyes shooting down to where Suma was stroking his cock with sparkles in her eyes.

“There we go” you say, “It’s rude not to watch a show in your honor”

As Suma stroked his cock, trying her hardest to grasp all of it. But his cock was so thick her hand barely fit all the way around the member. It didn’t stop her though, she tugged at Tengen’s dick until his hips were lifting into her fist and creamy pre pearled at the top of his tip.

Tengen groaned, grabbing your hips to pull you into a kiss as Suma kissed lazily along her husband’s veiny shaft. Kissing until she reached the tip. She licked across his tip, humming at the salty taste before she let the warmth of her mouth wrap around it.

He pulled away, mouth open in pure pleasure as Suma suckled his tip, her tongue swirling around him perfectly like she always did. His hand squeezed at your hip as he took the harsh treatment of her tongue.

Your husband made the mistake of looking up on the bed. And in that moment Suma felt a hot glob of pre fall right on her tongue. Makio was utterly soaked. Slick coating the bed and her thighs. Hina had one hand wrapped around her wife’s throat, the other rubbing quick and mean circles on her puffy clit. Makio was a mess, broken moans and pleads for Tengen and Hina falling from her lips. Her hips lifted into Hina’s hands, pleading for release that she was already so close too.

But Hina wouldn’t let her cum, not until she got the girl good and stretched out. Not until she got the girl begging to be filled up with something bigger than just Hina’s albeit lengthy digits.

Your eyes stayed trained on Suma though. Rubbing your own thighs together at the sight of Suma happily sucking Tengen off. But you knew she was just teasing, knew she could do more than what she was.

“Why are we being lazy sweetie?” you ask, Tengen was too lost to hear you. Luckily, your words weren’t directed at him.

Suma glanced away from Tengen’s face pierced in pleasure and over at you. “Take it deeper, I know you can do it baby” you say, grinning as Suma’s face flushed a pretty red.

Of course, she listens to what you asked of her, finally taking his cock farther down her throat. Tengen just grips at you harder, throwing his head back as he feels the back of her throat squeeze around his tip.

“Good girl” you tell Suma, reaching a hand to pet over her head. When she tries to pull off, the hand on her head gets firmer, “You can do better than that baby” you say, pushing her head down farther.

She gags a little, spit sliding down his shaft and down onto his heavy balls. “There you go, you know he likes it sloppy” you say. Your voice is gentle, much like your hands as they card through her hair to form a makeshift ponytail. A huge difference from how roughly you were helping Tengen use her throat. You forced her down on it, smiling at the tears that pricked at the edges of her eyes. You knew she loved it like this, everytime you pulled her off she had the neediest look on her face. A need for his cock back down her throat.

The sounds of her slurping on Tengen permeated around the room, hitting Makio’s ears. She peaked her eyes open, watching you feed Suma more and more of her husband’s fat cock. “Fuck I want it in me so bad” she moaned to Hina.

Hinatsuru smiled, finally deciding to let her hand trail down to her weeping hole. She let her middle finger slip in, easily fucking into her tight slit. Makio gasped, hissing at the little stretch. But she needed more to really have her begging, they both knew that.

“Yeah?” Hina responds as she speeds up her fingers, the nasty sounds in the room like music to her ears. “You wanna take all his cock?”

Makio nods her head, keening as Hina slips another finger inside her. It was driving her crazy, the way Hina just bullied that spot inside her that had her toes curling in.

“If you wanna take it you gotta loosen up baby” Hina tells her, “I’m afraid you’re too tight” she giggles. Makio lets out a strangled moan as Hina gently squeezes around her throat, turning the girl to kiss on her again. Smiling at how easily Makio let her take charge of the kiss before pulling away.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll stretch this pretty cunt out” Hina promises.

You could almost say Makio was the most blissed out in the room right now, or maybe even Suma. Who wouldn’t be, getting their cunt stuffed so effortlessly or swallowing their husbands cock deep down their throat.

But Tengen felt like he was hovering possibly above the heavens. Suma was sucking the absolute soul out of that man, somehow even better than usual with how rough you were guiding her. His whole body was twitching, barely able to keep himself still in his seat.

The absolute only thing that was keeping him somewhat on this real was his grip on you. And you were driving him crazy too.

“Oooh baby look!” You say to Tengen, grabbing his hair and forcing his head to look down. He could see what you were trying to show him perfectly, just not the full extent of it. Suma’s hands were on her pussy, trying to stuff her cunt full.

You drop to your knees, bending over so you could feel the full extent of Suma playing with herself. Tengen’s eyes lit up, taking the opportunity to slap your ass, watching the fat recoil from the impact. You look back at him rolling your eyes, but arching deeper just for him.

It allowed you to see what you wanted to better anyway. And it was such a pretty sight. Suma’s bare pussy, leaking nastily from how wet she was. Her fingers caused a nasty squelch to ring throughout the room as she stuffed her pussy, bobbing up and down on Tengen’s cock.

You sit back up again, hands fisting into Suma’s hair again. Forcing her to keep up with the merciless pace you had set earlier.

“See how needy you make her…, all of us my lord” you mumble into Tengen’s ear. And he moans, something about that nickname made his hips buck into Suma’s mouth.

“Her pussy’s so sloppy just for you, you always have and always will make her wet. Just from pleasing you” you tell him. “Oh and look at our pretty little princess on the bed….” you say.

Tengen’s eyes follow yours, staring at Makio’s creamy pussy. “She’s been begging for your cock this whole time” you laugh a little. “You know how bad she wants you inside, pounding her until she can’t think about anything other than how grateful she is to have such a strong man to satisfy her greedy cunt” you say.

“And you just know Hina’s enjoying yourself, you’re sweetheart loves getting us ready to take you nice and deep, just look at the smile on her face, all for you” which was partially true. Hina did love prepping you all. But that smile was purely because of how bad Makio was begging to cum, to take Tengen, just anything to feel her pussy reach that point of ecstasy.

“What about you mama?” Tengen manages to say through his pleasure, “You seem pretty composed.”

That gives you a chuckle, “That’s because I have a role to play” you tell him. “I’m here to guide you through it, tell you where to look and how to feel” you whisper into his ear.

“To make sure you know how sexy of a husband we have and still think you are Tengen” you say.

And Tengen’s heart warms at the words. Because, though he hadn’t told any of you, that’s all he had needed to hear lately. He pulls you in for a kiss. It wasn’t messy, there wasn’t any tongue. Just love that spilled from the depths of Tengen’s soul to yours.

You pulled away, and you had half the mind to break character. Tell Tengen that you loved him, and that he was one of the most beautiful souls you had ever met during your lifetime. That you would choose him time and time again whether he had two arms or none, whether he was a whole soul or a broken one. That he was it for you and everyone else in the room.

But Makio would kill you if you broke character, so you leaned forward and kissed him again. Hoping that everything you wanted to tell him, everything you felt in the moment translated through the lock of your lips. And Judging by the way he kissed you back, hand desperately pulling you closer. He understood.

This time he pulls away, panting. You could tell by the look on his face that he was nastily close. Nearly everyone who was getting played with was. And you knew just what to say to get your husband over the edge.

“Y’know, If I didn’t take my role so serious…”You say, “I’d pull Suma off your cock and sit on it myself until you’re whining for me to stop”

At the same time you speak, you push Suma all the way down and she gags. He peers down, seeing the mess you had made of Suma. She was crying, her big and teary eyes flickering between both you and Tengen. Her mouth was covered in a filthy mix of slick and pre, dribbling down her chin and onto her fat tits. All with a goofy smile on her face as she fucked her fingers as deep into herself as she could.

It was like someone had pushed a line of dominos from then.

Tengen came first, your words and Suma’s sinful throat too much for him to bear. The big man actually whined as he spilled his seed deep into Suma’s throat. Almost too lost in pleasure to notice that Suma was struggling to swallow his seed. There was just so much of it. So much more than usual.

Not that Suma minded. She clearly didn’t, she was the next to reach her peak afterall. Pussy gushing all over the floor and eyes rolling into the back of her head as she came. You would be upset that you had such a big mess to clean if the sight wasn’t so fucking hot.

Hinatsuru had Makio crumbling in her hold seconds after. Tengen was too fucked out to watch but your eyes were trained on the way Makio’s body trembled, shaking as Hina made her squirt juices everywhere, ruining the bed sheets. But Hina was a beast with her fingers. All of you knew from experience.

As the room calmed down and everyone calmed down from their seemingly endless highs, Tengen turned to you.

“Thank you” he says, “I got a wicked good orgasm and a confidence boost thanks to you girls” he winks.

You giggle, happy that at least for now, you four had successfully warded off his insecurities. “You’re welcome lord Tengen”

“I’m happy we helped.”

He’s so beautiful~ Kinktober Masterlist|2024

Taglist:@nousija, @miiiturix, @kittylovescatssuff

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twst-aceofhearts · 17 days ago

Note

Ace angst...? Ace angst.

Or maybe just hurt comfort, you know, since I don't want to be too depressed.

Ace is peak teenage boy liek he's literally average teen boy in the best way possible. And teenagers are sometimes a bit immature or don't think all of their emotions thoroughly (not all but yk) so maybe show off Ace's bratty side a bit

The angst/hurt can be anything tbh, I'm not picky 🥹

Anyway have a good day sweet and take care!!

Don't Make It Weird

a/n: my bbg Aceeeeee :(((( words: 736 taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @oya-oya-okay @writingattemptsxx

You didn’t even realize anything was wrong until the third time Ace snapped at you that day.

First was in the hallway, where you offered to share your snacks with him—he made a face and muttered something like, “I’m not a kid, y’know.”

Second was during class, when you passed him a note teasing him about sleeping with his mouth open. He crumpled it without even reading. And now, outside the cafeteria, he was leaning against the wall with crossed arms and that trademark pouty scowl, eyebrows drawn together like thunderclouds.

“Why are you following me?” he said, voice sharp enough to slice.

You blinked. “Ace, we always eat lunch together.”

“Well, maybe I don’t feel like it today.”

He said it like it was supposed to sting—and it did, a little. But what stung more was the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

You stayed quiet for a moment, weighing your options. Then, with a soft sigh, you sat down on the ground near him. “Okay. Then I’ll just sit here.”

“…Tch.” His eye twitched. “You’re really annoying sometimes.”

“You’re being weird,” you countered. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing’s up.”

Lie.

You could tell by the way his foot tapped against the floor, fast and restless. By the way his jaw clenched. Ace wasn’t always the most emotionally honest guy, but you’d been around him long enough to notice the signs. He was angry. Not just annoyed—no, this was deeper. Frustrated. Hurt.

He stayed quiet for a long beat. Then he muttered under his breath, “I messed up.”

“What?”

“I said I messed up, okay?” he snapped, louder this time. His voice cracked a little. “I thought I was doing everything right. I thought I finally got it. But I was wrong, and now—now people are looking at me like I’m some idiot again!”

You blinked. He wasn’t making full sense, but that was Ace for you—never leading with the full story.

“Who called you an idiot?” you asked gently.

“No one said it,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. “But they didn’t have to. Professor Trein gave me that look when I bombed the transfiguration demo. Deuce tried to cheer me up and sounded all fake nice about it. Even Cater was like, ‘Don’t worry, Acy~ you'll get 'em next time!’ Like I’m a dumb kid!”

Oh.

Now it made sense.

This wasn’t about just one class or one mistake. It was about not feeling good enough. About being seen as just a joker, or the screw-up in the group. It hit harder when it came from people he cared about—even if they didn’t mean to hurt him.

“…Ace,” you said, voice low, “you know you’re not dumb, right?”

He scoffed. “Easy for you to say.”

“I mean it. You’re smart. Just...not the kind of smart that works in a textbook. You think fast on your feet. You can read a room in five seconds. You’re creative and adaptable and brave. I’ve never seen you back down from a challenge.” You looked at him, really looked at him. “You just don’t give yourself credit.”

He turned away from you quickly. “…Whatever.”

But you didn’t miss how red his ears were.

“You’re allowed to be upset,” you added. “You don’t have to pretend you don’t care.”

Ace finally turned his head back, and his expression was…pinched. Tight around the eyes, like he was holding something in.

“…If I admit I’m upset,” he said softly, “then I’m just proving them right, aren’t I?”

“No. You’re proving you’re human.” You gave him a small smile. “Besides, everyone else gets to have bad days. Why not you?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then, with a dramatic groan, he slid down the wall and sat beside you, shoulders slumping like all the fight had drained out of him. “You’re the worst,” he grumbled. “Always saying stuff that makes me feel better. It’s annoying.”

“And yet here you are.”

He let out a snort. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up.”

But when you bumped your shoulder against his, he didn’t move away. In fact, he leaned into it—just a little. Quiet. Grateful.

And later, when you both got up and walked into the cafeteria side by side, he was still sulking…but he let you buy him a strawberry milk, and mumbled a “thanks” into the carton.

Which, for Ace, was as good as a hug.

#athena fics #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst ace #twst ace trappola #ace trappola #twst ace x reader #ace x reader #ace trappola x reader

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apomaro-mellow · 2 years ago

Text

Wrong Number 1

Eddie kept up a texting chain with Steve while making himself a breakfast of coffee and cereal. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since, well, when he thought of it when he was a teenager up all night in chat rooms and forums. When you found someone who you just clicked with.

[11:30] Any advice on how to fry an egg with a perfectly runny yolk?

(11:32) You like runny yolks??? 🤢 (11:33) It's scrambled or nothing for me (11:33) Cant help ya even if I wanted to

[11:35] I just want an egg on my avo toast

Normally Robin fried the eggs for breakfast. Her yolks were always perfect. But unlike Steve, she'd actually scored last night and was still with whoever she'd gone home with last night.

Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cliche. A guy who jogged and then came back home for some avocado toast with an egg on top? He just had to let his stance be known.

(11:35) Next ur gonna tell me bout your acai smoothie bowl rite? (11:36) Avo toast? Really???

Steve realized how he was coming off and had to quickly amend it.

[11:38] It's not what you think! We only got the avocados to make some guac the other day. There was one left and I wanted to use it before it went bad. And I'm all guac'd out. Hence the toast.

(11:39) At least you didn't use the avocado to make like ice cream or some shit

Finished with his own, normal, regular, average citizen breakfast, Eddie cleared his place and started to actually get ready for the day. His shift went from 2 to 10 tonight, so he needed to prepare for the long haul.

While brushing his teeth, getting dressed, and making something for his lunch later, he and Steve kept up the texts. Through their conversation he found out Steve's favorite ice cream (peanut butter), that he could cook eggs just about any way except sunny side up, and that he lived with a roommate named Robin.

Eddie got to his place of work and in a place like that you need to have some semblance of focus and attention, so he told Steve he had to get to work. He realized he was basically saying 'busy now, text you later?' to a stranger he'd only started talking to last night. Steve was completely in his rights to end the conversation there.

He could've ended it at any time really. What obligation did he have to keep on talking to him?

[2:01] Okay. Talk to you later

Steve stared at the message, already in the middle of agonizing over it when Robin finally came through the door of their apartment.

"Good afternoon. I wanna feel offended that I didn't get any texts or calls asking if I'm okay but I'm gonna choose to think it means you trust me and are a great judge of character."

For the first time in a while, Steve checked the time and actually realized how long it had been.

"Shit, Robs, I'm sorry." It had been over 12 hours and he hadn't checked in on her. All because he'd been texting a random number. "So you had a good time?"

Steve had been sitting on the couch and Robin plopped right down, laying her head in his lap.

"It was magical. Like something out of a movie."

"Aren't you glad I made you go and talk to her?", Steve smiled smug.

Robin smushed his face with her hands with a groan. "Don't look at me like that. You were right, okay? Me and her hit it off like, like uh, one of your sports metaphors."

"Robin you were in a soccer league just last year, stop acting like you don't know sports."

"Anyway, something grand must've kept your attention off me. Things go well with that girl you were talking to?"

"Umm, yeah."

Robin sat up, eyes narrowing. "And you came back here with her? Gross! Steve! Did you do it on the couch?!" She shot up immediately.

"I didn't", Steve rolled his eyes.

It was one of their main rules. No sex in the common areas of the apartment. Steve wasn't gonna tell her about the wrong number given to him. And he especially wasn't going to tell her he kept talking to it. The following lecture would have been unbearable.

"She gave me her number and we've just been texting back and forth."

Robin slowly sat back down on the couch. "Just texting? That's all you did?"

"That's all."

"Wow. You usually move faster than that."

"Well, I want something a little more this time. But enough about my snail pace romance. Let's talk about you and that girl, what was her name?"

He and Robin sat a long while, talking about her night, eventually going out for lunch together too. Not-Misty had said they were at work, but Steve couldn't help himself when he saw that Robin had ordered a burger with avocado on it and Steve had gotten a taco salad that came with, you guessed it, avocado.

[3:14] image.jpeg [314] Okay me and Robin might have a problem. But I swear it's not on purpose!

"Did you just send a picture of our lunch to someone?", Robin asked.

"Yeah to uh, to Misty. We were talking about avocados earlier and I figured she'd get a kick out of it."

Robin smiled through her chewing. She teased but she was glad that her friend had made a connection last night.

Meanwhile, Eddie saw the message, but didn't have a chance to reply, even on his lunch break. Through all the texting, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so it was on the plug and he was leaving it alone for now while he talked to his co-worker, Grant. He went through the rest of his shift, thinking about Steve.

What did he look like? How old was he? Where did he live?

He got off and made his way back home, stopping off somewhere to get dinner. It was a sandwich shop and he honestly contemplated getting avocado on his just to see Steve's reaction but he resisted.

'I can't be that down bad that I'm overthinking food now', he thought to himself.

When he got back home, he turned the tv on and took out his phone to reply to Steve right away.

(10:31) Back at home now (10:32) Work was crazy (10:34) And the 1st step to recovery is admitting u have a problem (10:36) But thru hard work we can get you addicted to a sensible veggie (10:37) Like broccoli

He thought since he kept Steve waiting for so long it might take some time for a reply to come, but his phone pinged almost immediately.

[10:39] First of all, avocado is a fruit. Second, I eat plenty of other vegetables. And third, what happened at work?

(10:41) It may be a fruit but I dont want it in my smoothie (10:42) And some guy came in and started throwing axes at the wall

Sunday evenings were usually more relaxed. It was why Eddie typically didn't work Friday or Saturday nights unless he needed some extra cash or they needed someone on deck.

[10:44] Hold the duck up someone was throwing axes!! [10:44] *duck [10:45] *FUCK

Eddie snickered through his eating and had to take a moment to swallow before something came up. He always enjoyed telling people what he did for a living.

(10:46) Cool your jets man (10:47) I work at an axe throwing range (10:48) The problem with this dude was he didn't have an appointment (10:48) Just came in and started throwing an axe at the wall

[10:50] Are you okay? That sounds dangerous

(10:50) My uncle handled it (10:51) Eventually the dude left

[10:52] Oh wow. Well I'm glad you're okay. Axe throwing tho. What an interesting job for someone of your age? 🤷

Steve was lying in bed and he buried his face into his pillow as he sent it with the shrug emoji. It was so transparent, he knew it. But he needed to have a better idea of who he was talking to. That way when Robin did eventually find out, he'd be able to tell her something, anything.

(10:53) Smooth (10:53) I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours

Eddie knew now was the time to be cautious. But he was also curious as to how much Steve would tell him and just what he wanted to know. He wasn't disappointed.

[10:54] Male, 23, 5'11

It was like the bare minimum of information and yet Eddie was already aggressively tamping down any hope that he might have a chance. Without his permission, hope bubbled up anyway

(10:55) Male, 24 going on 25, also 5'11

Steve stared at the text with the mystery person, mystery man's information. It seemed like so little and yet so much. He still hadn't an idea of what he looked like. But now he could at least get a general silhouette.

(10:56) Ur not one of those guys who lies about his height are you?

[10:57] Robin says my hair gives me two inches but she has no idea what she's talking about.

Eddie was thinking about how Steve must wear his hair. It could be in a sizeable pompadour, or maybe a nice afro. Maybe it was in a bun all the time? That was not what he typed out however.

(10:59) You know what they say (10:59) It's not the size but what u do with it

Okay this was it. This was where Steve stopped texting him. You can't just say that to guys you don't know-ping!

Eddie bit his lip and only had one eye open as he looked at Steve reply, preparing for the worst.

[11:01] Oh I know how to use my inches

Eddie dropped his phone onto the table and had to get up and pace, touch his face, his hair, throwing his hands in the air. Was this flirting? This felt like flirting. He wished he knew for sure. Maybe it was the lack of emoji. Had Steve put a winking face, he'd know for certain. Eddie leaned against his fridge, staring at his phone, sitting innocently on the table.

On the other side, Steve was burying his face into his pillow, pretending he didn't just say that. Would it come off as playful? As flirty? As casual? Should he have sent a wink? The seconds ticked and it felt too late. Like coughing after saying something awkward.

God, he was so desperate. Why was he even still texting? He had work in the morning. He should start preparing for bed so he had any hope of getting up on time. Steve pushed off the bed and went to his closet when he heard the notification sound and instantly returned.

(11:05) Let's get out the measuring tape (11:05) image.jpeg

Steve felt his heart skip a beat. The picture attached was of the very top of mystery man's head. He was holding up a lock of long, curly hair into the air. Steve studied the picture like he was getting paid to do it. He couldn't see any lower than the bangs on his forehead but there was still plenty to see.

The rings on his fingers for one, how his curls went this way and that. Steve quickly saved it and then replied with a similar pose, holding some hair by the fingers as far as it would go above his head.

[11:07] image.jpeg [11:08] I think you have me beat

They texted for about an hour more before Steve finally decided to be an adult and put himself to sleep, bidding mystery man good night.

Part 3

Fun fact, years ago I worked at an axe throwing place and yes, what happened to Eddie did in fact happen to me! On like my first week too I think

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @lolawonsstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @420-hun @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #i can honestly say i didn't expect the response to this #u cant predict the stocks! i guess LOL #fun fact this was nearly an abo fic as well #but i decided against it this time around #bc i have other aus that'll probably be abo

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pankowcrumbs · 27 days ago

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Hi can I request Will and reader. He wants her to meet his family and she’s worried his family won’t like her because she’s a little quirky with lots of tattoos and a few piercings or that they’ll think she’s a gold digger because she’s got a completely average non-industry job but when they meet, they like her so much. Maybe his ex was a fame chaser and just wanted to brag about being with him and she just likes him for him so they like how different she is for him ❤️

MasterList

Will Poulter Masterlist

When Will first asked me to meet his family, I smiled and said, “Sure.”

Out loud, it sounded confident. Chill, even. Like I wasn’t panicking inside.

But the second I left his flat and was walking home alone, all I could think was, I’m going to be the weird girl at Sunday roast.

Will was a talented actor, wildly fit, stupidly kind. And me? A bit of a chaotic creature with a septum piercing, 30 tattoos, a silver streak in my fringe, and a regular nine-to-five job at a publishing house that had nothing to do with the film industry. I loved my work, I loved my tiny rented flat, and I loved Will.

But I didn’t exactly scream “meet the parents” material.

What if they thought I was a phase?

What if they looked at me and saw a gold digger?

God, what if they’d liked his ex?

I bit the inside of my cheek until it almost bled.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Will asked that night, curled up on the sofa next to me as we watched some random food documentary he insisted I’d love (I did).

I blinked at him. “Talk about what?”

“About why you tensed up like you were bracing for a tsunami when I mentioned my family.”

I groaned and let my head drop to his shoulder. “I didn’t realise it was that obvious.”

“Only to someone who knows your ‘I’m spiralling internally but playing it cool’ face.”

“You know that face?”

He smiled. “It’s adorable. But also tragic.”

I sighed. “I’m just worried I’ll walk into their house and they’ll take one look at me and think, ‘What the hell is she doing with our Will?’”

His brow furrowed. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m covered in tattoos, babe. And I’m not an actress, or some glitzy model, or… I don’t know. I work in publishing. I read manuscripts and drink an unhealthy amount of tea. I’m not what people picture when they think of ‘A celebrity's girlfriend’.”

Will pulled me closer, hand tracing my arm over the black inked lines of the fern tattoo he loved. “That’s exactly why I love you. You’re not performing. You never have been.”

“I just don’t want them to think I’m with you for the wrong reasons.”

His voice dropped, serious now. “My ex was with me for the wrong reasons. All she wanted was the image. The invites. She’d post a story when we were out together and tag paparazzi-friendly places on purpose. It was exhausting.”

My chest clenched. “I didn’t know that.”

“I don’t really talk about it. But when I’m with you, it’s like… I can breathe.”

I blinked fast, because tears were creeping up and I refused to cry while wearing his hoodie and holding a half-eaten biscuit.

He kissed my forehead. “They’re going to love you. Just be yourself.”

I nodded slowly. “Alright. But if I see anyone in a pearl necklace whispering about me, I’m hiding in your car.”

“Fair.”

The day arrived faster than I liked.

Will’s family lived just outside London, a cosy, lived-in house with a garden that looked like something out of a home magazine. I wore a midi skirt and a soft jumper that covered most of my tattoos not because I was hiding, just… easing them in.

Will looked devastating in his usual cardigan and jeans ensemble, walking into the house with a grin and a bottle of wine.

“Mum!” he called out. “We’re here!”

His mum appeared from the kitchen almost immediately petite, kind-looking, with laugh lines around her eyes and flour on her jumper. “You must be Y/N,” she said, pulling me into a hug before I could panic.

She smelled like cinnamon and rosemary.

“I’m so glad you’re here come in, come in! And thank you for finally bringing her, Will.”

“Oi!” Will protested, following us into the warm kitchen. “You make it sound like I was hiding her.”

I laughed nervously, letting her usher me towards the table. “I wasn’t sure what to bring so I baked these,” I said, offering the tin of homemade chocolate biscuits.

Her eyes lit up. “She bakes too? You’re definitely keeping this one, Will.”

I felt my nerves melt just a little.

His dad arrived shortly after, all warm handshakes and dad jokes, and then came his sister with her two kids, who were immediately obsessed with my rings and tattoos.

“What’s that one mean?” the littlest girl asked, pointing to the tiny paper plane behind my ear.

“It’s for freedom,” I said with a smile. “And adventure.”

She nodded solemnly. “Cool. I want one.”

Her mum gave me a look and we both laughed.

Over roast lamb and potatoes, I expected at least one awkward silence, but it never came. His family asked questions real ones. About books I was reading. About how Will and I met. About my job, which they seemed genuinely interested in.

When Will’s dad asked what made me fall for his son, I smiled and said honestly, “He sees people. Not their resume, not their Instagram feed. Just… them.”

Will reached for my hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

After dessert, his mum pulled me aside while everyone else was wrangling children and stacking dishes.

“I hope you know,” she said gently, “how happy he looks when he talks about you. He’s had… partners before, but I haven’t seen him peaceful like this.”

“I was so worried I wouldn’t fit in,” I admitted, cheeks warming.

“Oh darling,” she laughed, shaking her head. “We’ve had the type who want the red carpets and the magazine covers. But you? You’re real. And honestly, a breath of fresh air.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Thank you. That really means a lot.”

She smiled and handed me a tin. “Take some roast home. It’s a family rule.”

Back in the car, Will glanced at me as we pulled out of the drive. “Well?”

I looked at him. “I think I might love your mum more than I love you.”

He grinned. “That’s fair.”

“Also, your niece wants to get tattooed. I may have accidentally inspired rebellion.”

“I’ll allow it. Did you feel okay, though? Like… welcome?”

I reached over and laced my fingers with his. “Better than okay. I felt like me. And that was enough.”

His expression softened. “You were never not enough. You’re the best thing to happen to me in years.”

I let out a shaky breath, finally allowing myself to believe it. “I think… this is the first time I’ve felt fully seen in a relationship.”

“Good,” he said quietly, lifting our joined hands to kiss mine. “Because I see you. And I like all of you the tattoos, the sarcasm, the obsession with cinnamon buns. Every bit.”

“You forgot my tendency to spiral.”

“Especially that,” he teased. “Gives me an excuse to wrap you in blankets.”

That night, curled up on the sofa again, I texted my sister:

His mum sent me home with roast potatoes and told me I was a breath of fresh air. I think I accidentally joined a cult.

Her response:

Marry him. Immediately.

#fanfiction #reader #x reader #one shot #requested #will poulter imagine #will poulter one shot #will poulter fanfic #will poulter x reader #will poulter #will #poulter

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fuck-customers · 22 days ago

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okay so it's been two years since i've worked there and gotten fired and had legal action threatened against me if i didn't pay them back so i don't care if they find out i'm shit-talking them anymore please never apply to work at or shop at the yellow and black general store! they will fire you for any perceived slight and will accuse you of theft with no proof or reasoning! in december a couple years back we were having our store christmas party. everything was completely fine and we were having fun until the district manager dragged me into the office (i had no idea what the fuck was going on) and sat me down in front of the computer, silently shoving a phone against my ear. i then proceeded to get yelled at by the guy in charge of security and asset protection for swiping over 400 dollars. believe me, i've definitely thought of taking all the money out of the safe and running because i'm a petty bitch but i'd never do it because it would easily be traced back to me and its definitely not worth it for like, $1500 tops. but no matter how many times i asked to see the footage of me doing it or asking them to provide any proof of me doing it, he just got louder and more aggressive and eventually just said 'okay if you refuse to make a statement today we'll take you to court then and the company's got really good lawyers' both asset protection and the dm badgered me into making a statement and signing a document saying i was at fault, and then further threatened me with more legal action if i didn't pay the $400 back (which in hindsight is DEFINITELY extortion and INCREDIBLY illegal and i could have pressed charges back but i was too worried about this incident leaving a really bad mark on my record making me unhireable anywhere else to realize how shitty it was) so I ended up giving them the $400 first-day just so i wouldn't have to pay several thousand dollars to hire someone to fight their lawyers, and of course they axed me anyway. it's been radio silence since i left until today, when the ex-manager of that store texted me, apologizing profusely for the lack of contact and dropped this little nugget on me: the $400 was never missing. a couple days later they """found""" it in the back of the safe. the dm had promised my manager to get someone in my position who would work more hours if she was allowed to fire me. according to what i was told, yellow general store couldn't afford $13 an hour for a "senior" (+3 years) employee like me when the average employee was making $10, and they couldn't find a reason to fire me otherwise (i don't think "we can't afford you" would hold up). of course i was fucking livid, i told her "that's incredibly shitty though, i would have picked up a few extra hours if you really needed the spare set of hands, and it's incredibly shitty of you to go along with it when you knew i did nothing wrong. they extorted a horrific amount of money from me and were going to try and send me to jail if i didn't comply" and she said "well, i don't work there anymore because it sucks so it doesn't really matter now. you can probably still press charges for your money back" and i blocked her lmao on top of what they did to me, it seems like every yellow general store manager becomes a cop once they get hired, i've been in stores where people with colostomy and catheter bags get accused of theft and have been forced to SHOW THEM to everyone in the store in order to be allowed to leave, people with phones in their back pockets have been accused of stealing cigarettes when the cig case is locked and completely behind the register, kids being manhandled by grown-ass adults because they joked about stealing a bag of chips, it's so dystopian. i don't know about you but i don't give a shit if people steal product and i don't understand the people that care SO MUCH that they're willing to make an ass of themselves. fuck yellow general store for real

I was hired in as a store manager and lasted 3 days.

-Rodney

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6riix · 2 months ago

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𝐿𝑒𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑡!

✦˙⚜︎﹍Chocolate chips, strawberries, flour, cornflour and a ton of other things needed to bake the most delicious cake you will ever taste sat on the counter, laid out neatly. Let's hope nothing goes too wrong trying to bake a cake with Dazai.

·ADA!reader ·, I haven't been to a convenience store in my life, no beta we die like sua. Tooth rotting food with a side of fluff.

╰⋮∘˙˚✦

The average Friday in Yokohama was quite busy—well, so were the other days of the week. Yet, on a more rare friday, there was a wave of boredom (along with cravings for cake) washed over a certain member of the ADA.

After you had finished up your work and headed out to leave, you had the brilliant idea to stop at the convenience store. You could already hear your stomach growling (like a dog in the dead of night, as you try to fall asleep) and this time, you could translate the sound; you wanted to have cake. So why not just grab a cake from the store?

Well—that was your plan, until you actually entered and saw a fairly mind-boggling sight; the store had ran out of cake. By now, the average person would think 'oh well, I can just have something else.' But you weren't average, no, no— you were persistent. And a whole lot at that. You were definitely going to have that cake, even if it meant making it yourself. With that in mind, you headed over to the area with stuff that seemed like baking ingredients.

Your roommate, Osamu Dazai, often didn't cook food on his own. He instead always just bought it from outside. It's not as if you were any better—you barely stocked up on ingredients unless absolutely necessary. Which is the very reason why you now had two white polythene bags containing a bunch of baking supplies and strawberries, sitting upon the grey counter in your small, cramped kitchen.

You began to take everything out the bags and sort them, you would need around.. Four cups of white flour, one teaspoonful of baking soda—or was it baking powder? Whatever, the one you had should work just fine. A tiny bit of.. Wait, did you bring home vanilla flavouring instead of cocoa powder? Ah, no—you brought both. There were obviously the strawberries and the chocolate chips, which thankfully were in perfect condition and hadn't been mixed up with anything else.

You brought out a fairly large plastic bowl from the cupboard, along with a random spoon of reasonable size because let's face it, there was no way you were gonna bother buying a whisk at eight in the evening, just as all shops were getting ready to close. As you reached up to get something else, you heard the box of strawberries being opened. Great heavens.. Dazai was here.

"Wow~ these strawberries taste amazing! They're so swee-" his sentence was interrupted by a smack to his hand, caused by an orange porcelain-like plastic spoon.

"Don't eat those, I need them."

Dazai glanced over to the setup on the counter, then back at you with a grin.

"You're baking a cake? Oh what a coincidence, it just so happened to be that I also was craving some! Wouldn't you be so kind as to save me from this hunger by giving me some?" Said he, in the most dramatic of tones. A skeptical glance made up of squinted eyes and the words 'are you twelve.' Shot towards his face (a BOMBASTIC side eye). After a few moments of internal debate, you finally decided to give him your final verdict. "I'll allow it, I guess. Could you help out a bit however?" At this, dazai's eyes got as close to lighting up as they could. "Why, of course! Your wish is my command!" Seeing that burst of excitement in his tone, you realized that maybe asking him to help was not the best of ideas. Well, you had to make use of what you had.

The two of you began working together on the cake, somehow managing to not get flour all over the place. As you began mixing the wet batter, Dazai kept begging you to add some more chocolate chips. You had to physically stop him from eating the batter about 3 times. As you began set the batter into a square metal mold you found laying around (it was from your baking era, okay?) , Dazai melted the chocolate chips in the microwave. After he brought out the gooey, delicious looking brown liquid, you put in your soon-to-be cake in the oven. It would take about half an hour for it to bake. In the meantime, you guys got working on the strawberries and icing. To your misfortune, Dazai was the one working with the icing. This definitely was not going to go well. But it was what it was, after all, beggars can't be choosers.

🍰☕·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

After all your hard work and time, it was finally done. The cake was ready, and a sense of accomplishment washed over you both. The cake was beautiful² and it looked absolutely delectable. You produced two small plates from the cupboard, along with a fork. As you reached for the other fork, it was nowhere to be found. Huh, strange, you remember placing them inside that morning, after drying them. Whatever,it wasn't a big deal, you thought, instead bringing out a spoon and went over to Dazai, who was reading.

As he noticed you, he looked up towards your hands, seeing a spoon and a fork on the plates. "No fork for me?" He questioned you, with a dramatic-sad look on his face. "If you want, you can take the fork." You replied back to him, expecting him to agree. However, it might have been quite a shocker to hear "No way! I want us to eat with matching forks!" As you were about to give him the fork, you stopped, deliberating for a moment. Then you did something slightly surprising, you took a small piece using the fork and held it up to his mouth. He looked down at it, a small piece of chocolatey cake was being offered to him. "Here." You said, pressing the fork a bit closer to him. He looked a bit startled for a moment, but eventually ate it with the giddiest smile you had ever seen.

You went on feeding him the cake, sometimes holding his face to stabilize yourself. A small action that was probably gonna turn Dazai redder than the strawberry you were holding up for him to have. Other times, you would get so close to him, he could almost feel the heat from your delicate, soft skin. After the cake was finished, you looked as if you were gonna pass out from exhaustion. "Hn.. I need to sleep.." You crawled next to where Dazai was sitting, plopping yourself down right next to him. Dazai simply continued reading his novel, seemingly unbothered. Yet when he felt a weight upon his shoulder, a soft smile crept onto his lips. Maybe hiding the fork was worth it after all.

🍓🍒˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚--._.-_

HEY POOKIES TYSM FOR READING THIS I HOPE TO SEE YOU AROUND HERE AGAIN SOONNNN

A/N: girlie pops (and manliepops) when I say the cake was beautiful I think of my physics teachers GINORMOUS CHEESECAKE FACTORY LIKE NO JOKE THAT THING IS SO HUGE WHEN HE WALKS THAT DUMPTRUCK JIGGLES LIKE A PUDDING AND ISTG HE HAS A POSTURE THAT JUST MAKES IT MORE PROMINENT LIKE DANG WE GET IT YOUR TRIPLE BBL WATER BALLOONS ARE THE PHYSICS YOU TEACH

#bsd #6briix #fluff #bsd dazai #dazai fluff #tooth rotting fluff #dazai x reader #no beta we die like odasaku #dazai x yn #gn!reader #dazai x reader fluff #brainrot #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd x y/n #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you

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veeloveshawks · 2 months ago

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Pride (with some prejudice)

summary: Drove half insane by your lack of life in the bedroom, Bakugo goes back to your shared apartment in hopes to find you. And when you’re not home, in order to not lose his goddamn mind, he takes matters into his own hands (literally).

warnings: literally just horny Katsuki, masturbating, use of genitals but no smut (sorry I got lazy)

word count: 1825

God, his pride could kill an entire city if he let it. With Bakugo constantly patrolling the streets of Japan, the chances of him coming home anytime before 9 o’ clock was slim. You, on the other hand, had a pretty average life, a life that included being dead asleep after that time. It just wasn’t fair. Initially, what he felt was just loneliness. There was a short period of time where it was physically possible to see you. But, the window you were actually available was even shorter. It was only normal one would be pretty sad about not being able to see their girlfriend for quite some time. Not that he would let you know, though. However, something turned inside him. The blossoming feelings of longing were no more. Now, all he felt was frustration. As of late, the country's petty thieves had really been making their appearance, grasping into whatever mischief their sinful hands could reach. And, unfortunately, there were few heros out this late besides him. Naturally, he moved from one location to the next, being accustomed to the sound of police sirens as he called in officers to collect captured criminals. He was tired, tired of long rambling monologues, tired of bouncing from point a to b to c constantly, and frankly, tired of coming home to… nothing. It wasn’t your fault, you had work to do as well, but thoughts of you were all that moved through his mind. The more days this went on, the more unhinged. Some were of you kissing him sleepily, welcoming him home. Others were of you running to hug him, wide awake, exclaiming enthusiastically that you’ve been waiting for his arrival all night. But a select few thoughts made him dizzy. A few thoughts where you shared the same need as him, breathlessly whimpering his name in your sleep. A few thoughts where you caught him by surprise strolling around time, quickly pulling him into a secluded alleyway he would pin you to, kissing you passionately. A few thoughts where you’d be in bed, tugging at the waistband of his pants, begging him to take them off for you. A few where he would throw them off the minutes you asked, along with your clothing as well.

“Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight? Did you hear me?” Great, the thought of you put him in a trance again. Just what he needed at a time like this. “We’d like to thank you for your hard work.” A police officer expressed his gratitude, cuffing a newly found villain. “You’ve been working quite hard lately, we have very few night patrollers besides you. It would be wise to take a break, maybe for some lunch? We have large amounts of heroes out during the day, your absence for a bit will be just fine.” Did it look like he needed a break? This officer didn’t know a thing. At no point in his years at U-A did he stop working because he needed to kick his feet up. And frankly, he wasn’t planning to have that happen now, either. But, before he could shout this, he paused to think. Lunch, that would mean he could go anywhere. To the sushi place down the road, the bar across town, or home. To you. He didn’t think twice before using his gauntlets to fly off, too engrossed in the idea of you to even respond to the police officer, who was now staring at him in disbelief. If he remembers correctly, you may be home as well, taking a lunch break too. But, if you weren’t home, still working or eating elsewhere, he might just have to make another trip and stuff you full there instead.

The door slams shut and lets out a noise that threatens the sound of his heartbeat. Kicking off his shoes, he instantly goes to look for you. Obviously, you weren’t in the entrance room. Alright, he wasn’t expecting you to be. The living room, to the right, was next. Nope. Not there either. That was fine, too. Now, he stormed to the kitchen. That was probably where you were, it was noon after all. He starts to say your name, but stops before the first syllable leaves his mouth. You weren’t there either. Angry or disappointed, he couldn’t tell which emotion he felt the strongest right now. The more he thought about leaving to find you, the less appealing it sounded. That would be him publicly announcing that he misses you so much that searching through the entire town was the only way to satisfy his overwhelming emotions. You may as well put him in a dunce hat with a huge sign over his shoulders that says ‘World’s clingiest boyfriend.’ Nope, not happening. So he stomped down the hall past your guest bedroom, which was found empty by just one look. If you weren't in your bedroom, the only room left, he swore he might lose his mind. Stopping in front of the door, he takes a deep breath. If you weren’t here, you weren’t in the apartment, and that meant his options were to (somehow) fight off the loneliness, or let it further consume him. He already knew his decision, he wasn’t leaving the apartment to chase after you. He gripped the door handle, and it opened it with such force the sky itself could’ve split in half. One look, and his fears were confirmed. You weren’t there.

“If this is some stupid joke, I’m not laughing.” He mutters under his breath. Sitting down on the bed. Frustrated, that was it. The feeling that sat in his chest, threatening to spill out and explode at anyone who dared speak to him besides you. The word that towed the line between anger and disappointment. But, it wasn’t just that he felt. He felt pent up. The last he got the chance to fuck you was… how long ago? Three, four weeks, maybe? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t have the time to do it by himself, either. That was probably the reason he couldn’t focus. His suspicions were confirmed when he looked down to see the already growing tent in his pants. And, he always ran warm, especially with the flying he just did, but was it always this hot? Bakugo was a man. He didn’t shy away from sex or any topics involving it, nor did he mind doing it. Even if it meant having to use his own fist. He was just hoping the first time in ages he’d be able to get his release was with you. That was over half the reason he came, actually. Whatever, it didn’t matter now. What mattered was he got these feelings away fast, before it disturbed him more than it already did.

He yanked the waistband of his hero costume off, throwing it aside to some corner of the room. He wanted it so bad that it almost hurt. A spot of precum already stained his boxers, which were next to be thrown aside. Then his shirt, which was practically boiling him alive. Finally, his gauntlets, which were the only thing placed carefully to the ground. Too valuable to break with all the crime happening right now. His hand rubbed gently down his throbbing cock, up and down, at a steady rate.

Something he wasn’t prepared for was how sensitive he’d be after not being touched for so long. One rub was enough to make him get worked up. Still, he endured, gritting his teeth. Trying to avoid the overwhelming feeling, he closed his eyes, and pictured you instead. Every fantasy he had was coming up to the surface, running through his mind right this instant. Before he knew it, his grip increased ever so slightly, and his pace became rapid. Choking over air, he called your name over and over, as if you were the one responsible. The longer his eyes were closed, the more vivid his daydreams became. A less prideful man would’ve knocked some sense into himself and called his girlfriend. But he just couldn’t, something in him wouldn’t let him. So, hearing your imaginary voice in his ears would have to be enough for now. He imagined all the things you’d usually say. “Is this what you wanted, Katsuki?” His brain was having more of an effect on him than his actual hand. ”Come on, Katsuki, you can handle it.” Everything was slurring in his mind, only one thing in common with every thought. Your voice repeating “Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki…”

“Katsuki?!” He snapped out of it instantly, dropping his member and almost giving himself whiplash from how fast he moved his neck up. “Welcome home, what are you…” Mortified. That was the word he needed right now.

“Where the hell have you been? Checked the whole apartment and you weren’t here.”

“I was in the shower!” You exclaimed. Through his lust filled haze, he hadn’t realized it, but you were in nothing but a towel, water slowly dripping down from your neck. Right, the once place he forgot to check. The bathroom. That was hidden by a sliding door in your bedroom. He had been a petulant, angry, horny idiot for no reason. You’d been there the whole time. He’d apologize for slamming the door open later. You obviously caught him, you weren’t dumb, and he needed help.

“Are you going to stand there and watch, or do something about it? This is your fault.” He gestured to the slick starting to coat your bedsheets Instantly, you dropped your towel, almost running across the room and onto the bed. A passionate kiss was shared before your hands made its way down to his dick.

“You could’ve called, Kats. I wouldn’t mind helping you out. It’s cute that you thought you had to do it alons, though.”

“Shut it, or I’m out the door again.”

“You wouldn’t. But fine, not another peep out of me, sir.” You laid him down on his back, pressing down on his hips while you align yourself with his tip and sank down on it. Hissing, he replies back.

“Lunch break ends in twenty minutes.” “Are you challenging me?” “Maybe I am.” “I could make it ten.” “Like hell you could.”

Soon, he’d realize a lot of misconceptions he had. One, you really didn’t mind having him disturbing you a bit if need be. Two, you’re much better at this than he is himself. In fact, he didn’t even know why he tried touching himself alien. And three, not only could you make it ten, you could make it less than that. But, that was for later. Now, your only goal was embarrassing him half to death, before finally giving him what he wanted. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, him underneath you, trying to resist but leaning into your touch at the same time. You were about to have a lot of fun.

Author’s Notes:

NO ONE TALK TO ME I HAAAAAAATE THIS☹️☹️ I wrote this sososo many months ago and completely forgot about it (for a good reason). But I needed to post and I’m having a generational writer’s block rn so this is all I have. Honestly might even rewrite if anyone likes this. But if you endured this entire thing ily

#bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo katuski #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #katsukibakugou #bakugo smut #katsuki smut #mha smut

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fnvbennygecko · 5 months ago

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i know it's always ohh benny sucks i wanna kill him so bad but can we also think about context. before i preface this yes he did all those things yes he isn't a good person but can we think of how he got there.

he and the boot riders got held at GUNPOINT!!! BY MR HOUSE!!! and i think the writers like genuinely either didnt care abt that aspect to keep benny sucky or just didnt think about it. but like of course you would say yes? if you're held at gunpoint by 20 securitrons??? and then he presumably lost everything he had before. like even his old identity just as a person. mr house made up how he acts in game. guy who has NOTHING. but also so much more than the average person living in the wasteland. we also dont talk about benny's perception on mr house bc i think he despisessss mr house even though he's like yeaaa mr house is... cool <- guy who is a known liar. i dont knowww benny makes me crazy. imagine being a guy who lived in this area your entire life and you're just some guy and one day a man comes in holds you at gunpoint and says work for me? and now you're pretending to be a guy from like 300 years ago. isnt that insane.

#i see no one talking abt benny like this in his tag. at least not often.#benny gecko #fnv benny #fnv

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erospandemos · 2 years ago

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Umbrella Thief

Hanni x Reader

Length: 4.2k

With the help of beta-reader @leafostuff

A series of unfortunate events leads you to share the same hotel room as your umbrella thief.

Why did you even agree to come to the school trip? You asked yourself. How did you get the splendid idea to join this little stupid event? The day had been nothing but rain, delayed transportation, closed museums, tasteless food, and now that it was… You put your hand in your pocket, stuck to your thigh, soaking wet from all the rain, and reached for the phone. Fortunately, it was still working. 12 pm.

The teachers failed to contact the bus and everyone had to walk back to the hotel, which was an hour away from the restaurant, and without an umbrella. Someone stole your umbrella. You left it near your bag as you went to the bathroom and when you came back, poof, it disappeared—just as it started to rain. Everyone was too worried about themselves and going back to the hotel, so you were forgotten and had to walk all the way under the pouring rain.

You sighed, for the nth time, and waited for the teachers to announce the pairings for the hotel rooms. As they started calling for everyone and seeing couple by couple leaving the reception, running in excitement to their little cove, you got impatient. You silently accepted that you’d be the last one. The problem was when they didn’t call you at all.

“Excuse me, Miss Kim. What about my room?” you asked politely.

“Yeah, about that…” she started. She patted her head with an apologetic expression. “Someone made a mistaking while booking the room and you’ll have to share it with someone from the other class that joined us.”

“What do you mean someone made a mistake?”

“We actually were one room short. I just asked for the last room they got left,” the teacher admitted. She took out the card to access your room and gave it to you. “I don’t know who the other person was but, here you go.”

You found your place by looking at the number on the sign beside the stairs. In front of your door was waiting an oddly familiar girl. Her height was average, her hair was black, and decorated her round face with straight bangs. Her clothes were baggy and looked to be trendy, new jeans and a big hoodie, and they were almost completely dry.

After looking at her enough, you realized you actually knew her name. Hanni Pham. She was your crush, what were the chances she’d be here to share the room with you? You couldn’t absolutely give her any hints or make her realize you might’ve liked her.

“Hi, Hanni.”

“Oh, hello, how do you know my name?” she replied with a raised eyebrow. Shoot. Think of an excuse, quick, say something.

“I mean, you must be Hanni, right? My teacher told me I’d be sharing my room with you, did she tell you?”

“Ah, that thing, yes. Well, good to meet you…”

You couldn’t help but nervously glance at her—she was way prettier in person—and your cheeks got warmer, you felt embarrassed since you were dripping water all over the floor and she was in the same room as you. It was the most unluckiest encounter you could have hoped for. Your chances were thrown out the window at this point. The first time you got to have a proper conversation with her was when you looked your worst.

It’s just a night, you repeat in your head. Just a night. Eight hours or something.

She swiped the card and let you both go inside.

Hanni smiled and joked with her vibrant joyful voice, “Damn, did Zeus have a grudge against you? You’re drenched! Here, take this towel,” she said.

“Actually,” you started, recalling everything that happened before, “Can you believe it? Someone actually stole my umbrella!”

Hanni noticed how frustrated you were and answered as sympathetically as she could, “No way! Who would do such a thing? They must be the raincoat industry's secret undercover agent.”

“Oh, definitely!” you laughed. “They probably have a whole stash of stolen umbrellas hidden away somewhere.”

The girl laughed too, interrupted by a soundless hiccup, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, it’s such a shame that people can’t be trusted these days.”

“It’s incredible! I left it beside my bag… I just left for two minutes and… Wait,” you stopped for a moment and looked at the umbrella peaking from her half-opened backpack. Almost ironically, it fell to the floor and you recognize it. There was no doubt. It was yours.

“That looks an awful lot like my umbrella.”

“What do you mean?” she stutters, as her eyes start to flicker. “Yeah, uhm, it’s a coincidence. I mean, who hasn’t had the same umbrella, right?” Hanni raised her shoulders and hands in a innocent shrug but failed to look at you in the eyes.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Coincidence? So you’re telling me that my umbrella magically walked out of my hands and into yours?”

Finally, she sighed with guilt. “Okay, fine,” she admitted. “You caught me. But in my defense, it was raining, and I was unprepared!”

“Unprepared? So, stealing my umbrella was your brilliant solution?”

“I panicked!” Hanni sheepishly replied. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” She stopped and raised her eyes from the floor to look at you. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” you said. “Buy me lunch tomorrow and I’ll forgive you.” You pick up the umbrella and take your card out. You put it on the sensor but it wasn’t working. No wonder, it was dripping wet and you couldn’t dry it on your clothes which weren’t any less drenched. Hanni took it from your hands, brushing your fingers for an instant. You held your breath. Why were you getting nervous from her? She was a criminal!

“Okay, let’s go inside,” Hanni said, forcing a smile. “Wow, it’s quite a nice room. Quite spacious,” she commented when she stepped inside the room. Her eyes were open wide, her mouth slightly open, childishly surprised and excited.

“Oh, even a king-size bed. I got dips on that,” she said. “Where’s the second one though?” It was then that the realization dawned on you. A boy, a girl, one room, one bed. That’s how you become a father. Wait, no, that’s wrong. Your brain wasn’t working correctly, not at all.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, don’t worry.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? You can’t sleep on the ground,” Hanni gave you a weird look. “It’s been raining all day, there isn’t even a mattress… you would catch a cold.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

“This is not happening,” she said. “You are already drenched because of me… you’ll definitely die if you sleep on the floor.” You were already taking the blankets out of the closet and making a little makeshift bed in the corner in the room when Hanni stopped you and forcefully pulled them out of your hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” the girl jeered. “I’m not that much of a monster to let you sleep on the ground, you idiot.”

“You’re a girl, Hanni. I’m a boy.”

“It’s okay, we can talk to the teachers tomorrow and ask to get another room or a second bed. It’s just one night. I wonder where you are bothered. Are you nervous because I’m too pretty?”

You laugh loudly. “I just don’t want to sleep next to a thief.”

“Hey! I already apologized!” Hanni hissed and pouted. You stared at her cheeks, puffing out to two soft and round mochis. Damn it. Your weakness. You couldn’t get angry at her while she was acting this cute.

“Okay, okay. It doesn’t matter now,” you said. “So, do you have some sleep attire?” It was already too late, both of you were tired. You had to get some sleep before the next day of walking.

“Oh, look at you caring so much for a thief…” she grinned.

“What—” you cleared your throat. “What are you saying?”

“You almost sound boyfriend-material,” Hanni chuckled with amusement. “Sorry, are you embarrassed?”

Your pulse jittered somewhere around the 140 mark. Hanni must have noticed it and was having a blast teasing you. “I’m not embarrassed, these are just basic manners. This is what every gentleman would do.”

“Exhibit A.”

“Ugh,” you sigh. “Just get over it.” You took your stuff out and went to take a shower. You were a bit uncomfortable showing yourself in pajamas but it wasn’t like you could do anything else. The real problem was Hanni was done. She came out of the bathroom with a thin pajama made of short shorts and a small shirt.

She just stood there being all pretty and shy, playing with the hem of her shirt, her face a little down, looking at you through her eyebrows.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Am I supposed to say something?” you stuttered, matching her energy. Hanni doesn’t answer, instead, her lips quiver. You quickly ruffle your hair out of frustration. “What is this? This really feels like something a couple would do… Well—you look great,” you admitted. The second, the words came out of your mouth, you realize you made an enormous mistake. You quickly raise your head and look at Hanni, she’s already giving you the vilest of smugs, her embarrassment having disappeared completely.

“Heh,” she breathes. You close your eyes to prepare for what she’s going to say next.

“Have you been picturing me in sleepwear?” she giggles.

“No! I haven’t been picturing you in sleepwear. Get over yourself.

Hanni lowered her eyes to the floor, clutching her shirt and tightening her shirt with her hands.

You couldn’t help but look at her tremble a little. “It's pretty cold couldn't you bring something longer? I mean, look at your body. It's full of goosebumps.”

“No, I thought this would have been fine but turns out that—hey! You’re staring at my body!”

“What's up? I didn't look at your body inappropriately. I just noticed you had goosebumps.”

Hanni scuffs but you ignore her. Instead, you took a blanket and wrap her with it. She was startled at first, widening her eyes and glancing at you with a questioning glare, but then she just relaxed and covered herself better with it.

“Let's finally get this over with. At least the bed is comfy.”

“Okay, but,” Hanni started, raising a finger in the air and dramatically lowering it down to draw a line from the top of the bed all the way down, slicing it like a sandwich. “Don’t dare to cross the side of the bed though.”

“I won’t, I won’t… Good night.”

“Good night.”

And that was it. You were finally going to sleep. You closed your eyes and tried to forget that you were sleeping next to your crush and you succeeded for a second, until she started moving around. At first she just touched you with her foot. Then she literally pushed you off the bed. Sometimes, she’d wake up, holding her eyes half open half closed and scold you like, “I told you not to cross the line. Stop touching me.” You were too sleepy and didn’t have the heart to fight back so you just kept sleeping.

The worse was when she threw her arm over and slapped you. You got up and stared at her, debating whether to slap her back or make her sleep on the floor. You looked back at the clock. 1:42 am. You sighed and just put the blanket back on her.

The sixth time you woke up, it wasn’t for some unknown violent act. Instead, you felt a really warm softness on your back. You slowly turned around and saw Hanni hugging your back. Her arm was over and under yours, clinching your abdomen and squishing her face on you.

Very slowly, you took her arm and put it behind you, so she could roll over. You let out a satisfied sigh when you succeed, only for her to go back at hugging you, this time tighter, on top of that she threw her leg over and koala hugged you.

Hanni had a wide grin.

You decided to enjoy yourself. Afterall, feeling her embrace and her low breath on your back was quite relaxing and most of all, it was really comfortable. In fact, you fell asleep fairly quick, imagining you were her boyfriend.

After an hour, it was Hanni’s turn to wake up.

Someone was blasting music from the room next door, she wasn’t sure if it was from above or from the right but it surely wasn’t quiet. Hanni yawned, stroking her cheek on her very big hugging pillow, annoyed by the sudden disturbance that disrupted her very comfortable slumber.

But then her pillow started moving and breathing; and she realized it wasn’t a pillow at all.

“Oh no, oh no,” she whispered, panicked and flustered. You were still sleeping. Good. She peered through the dark to see the clock on the other side, it was three in the morning. “Stay asleep.”

Hanni started debating with herself on whether it might have been you or her who started cuddling. Well, she was definitely the one strapped to you but you were holding her arm too. Maybe, just maybe, it could have been a reflex. No, it was definitely on her.

“Wow, you smell good,” she let her thoughts wander. “Nope, stop it.” But that really wasn’t the moment. She had to slip out of there before you woke up and then it would have gotten really awkward. Hanni raised her arm and leg, trying to roll on the side but you started tossing and turning. I took a couple of turns and now you were back in the starting position but this time, you were hugging her a bit more.

And she didn’t mind.

Her bargaining stopped when she realized that after all she didn’t really want to detach herself from you because she was cold, you were warm, and soft, and nice… and cute. Again, Hanni couldn’t stop but let her mind race and enjoy the moment too much. “Oh my god, what's wrong with me?” she cursed herself. “Okay, well, you should stop pulling me closer, because that feels really nice. I can hear your heartbeat.”

Hanni liked you too and she knew it since when her friends invaded your classroom, dragging her together with them. She fell for you without knowing, you slowly crept inside her heart when you treated her so nicely and affectionately, not looking down on her nor admiring her too much. Sometimes you’d sit beside her, when her friends were talking with other friends—leaving her alone—and make her laugh during those very somber days. Hanni fell for you, but she never considered that you could be anything more but now it was too hard to ignore—glued to you—she was very aware of her blossoming feelings.

You woke up. And in the spur of the moment Hanni decided to accuse you of everything.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Oh my god, did you cuddle me in your sleep?”

“I didn’t mean to… Wait, you’re the one hugging me.”

“Hey, you know, it's not that big of a deal that you, like, held me in your sleep.”

“It’s you.”

“No, it isn’t. Hey, this ain't on me. This is 100 % on you, so yeah. And you've got your arm on me. I couldn't have done that. That's like pretty damning evidence right there.”

“You’re so red, Hanni.”

“Oh? Then why is your heart beating so fast?”

“You’re literally attached to me like a koala…”

“Hey, if you like want to confess something, that's totally cool.”

“It sounds like you do.”

“No, I don’t. I don't have anything. I'm not hiding anything. I was just giving you a safe space to get it off your chest.”

“Get off what my chest?”

“Well, you're hiding that you're like super into me or something stupid like that.” Hanni concluded. “Anyways, just go back to sleep, will you?”

As Hanni drifted again into a deep sleep, she started mumbling incoherently. You weren’t asleep yet and just laid there, debating whether you should tell her to shut up, maybe to tease her, or to continue listening to her. Suddenly, a brilliant crossed your mind: recording her. That was the proper revenge for the hell she made you go through that morning. You couldn't resist the opportunity, you slowly got up and took the phone without making a single noise and pressed the record button.

To your surprise, Hanni muttered your name and then, "You're the best. I love you so much."

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

Hanni, her voice filled with affection. You have never heard her talk this nicely and you were pretty sure it was directed to you. "I wish I could marry you. You're just so cute." Her words were confused but you could make out what she was saying pretty clearly.

Your eyes turned into a look of panic when Hanni whispered, "I wish I could tell you how I feel."

You realized that you might have uncovered something you weren’t supposed to. You decided to end the recording, but just as you reached for your phone, Hanni mumbled again, "I wish I could kiss you."

Now you were in full panic mode. He had no idea Hanni felt this way about you. You quickly ended the recording and put your phone away, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Your heart was beating so fast, that alone could’ve woken her up.

Moments later, Hanni stirred and woke up, her eyes fluttering open. She yawned and stretched, completely unaware of what you just did. Then she noticed your face, completely shocked and scared, you were sweating bullets and you were sure she could see a couple of droplets in the moonlight.

"What's going on? What’s with that face?"

You tried to play it cool. "Oh, it's nothing, Hanni. Just a weird dream, that's all."

Hanni wasn’t really buying it but she was to sleepy to really care and turned around. That’s when she saw your phone still on, the big pause button and the soundwave of the recording up. Hanni was sleepy but she wasn’t dumb—the smartest kid in the class earned that name for a reason—she snatched the phone up and put it to her ear. You cursed yourself for making such a mistake: why would you ever leave your phone like that?! Hanni woke up so suddenly and you had no choice but to drop everything you were doing and try to look like you were sleeping but that was a dead giveaway.

Her eyes widened in shock as she listened to herself confess her feelings for you. Mortified, she turned to you, her face bright red. "You recorded me talking in my sleep?!"

You chuckled nervously. "I didn't mean to. It was just a joke, I swear."

Your hand suddenly snatched the phone from hers. It was instinctive. You didn’t why you did it, it was a deep feeling inside you. But Hanni was having none of it. She leaped up from her blanket. "Give me that phone, you bastard! You have to delete it right now!"

You were surprised by her choice of words but didn’t have time to think about it, you tried to evade her, but Hanni was quick. She chased you around the room and your finger was trying to save the audio to your drive. But running and swiping wasn’t exactly easy, and you exited the app instead of saving the evidence.

And that was your second mistake: leaving your instagram open.

Hanni successfully tackled you, making you fall down and your phone flew out of hand. Hanni catched it and ran to the corner of the room, near the door.

She looked at the screen trying to find where to delete the audio but then she saw a picture of herself. It was her instagram account. Her most recent post had a like. Sure, he must’ve liked the photo randomly, she thought to herself but when she scrolled down and saw more hearts, some questions quickly started forming in her mind.

“Hey… you certainly liked a lot of my photos.”

“Hanni—w-what are you doing? What are you looking at?”

“Your instagram,” Hanni quickly said, busy scrolling on your phone. “Oh my god… you liked all of my posts. You even saved them.”

“Hanni please give me my phone back,” you begged her, trying to take your phone from her but she was faster than you.

“Let’s talk,” she said in a serious tone.

“Fine,” you agreed.

“You have a little too many pictures of me. What’s that about?”

“You said you wanted to marry me in your sleep.”

“Wha—you were saying you wanted to confess to me to your friend!”

“You watched my DMs?! What do you think you’re doing, Hanni Pham?! You’re violating my privacy!”

“Violating my privacy my ass! You literally recorded me in my sleep, just shut up.”

“Please, Hanni, put it down. I’m going to delete the audio and we’ll forget whatever happened today.”

“You really say the most random stuff to your friend. ‘Hanni is so cute, she is so pretty I can’t stop staring at her…’ Let me see some more.”

“Hanni please I’ll do whatever you want, just stop.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then say you like me,” Hanni said. She was trying her hardest to look threatening, to emanate a bit of authority but her bright red face showed that you she just as fluttered as you were. “I have seen everything, you might just admit it at this point.”

“Hanni, when you were sleeping you literally said—”

“If you don’t say it, I’m going to post the screenshots of your chat on the class chat.”

“NO! Okay, I’ll say it,” you reluctantly agreed. You took a deep breath and finally spoke, “I… I like you, Hanni.”

Hanni’s face turned into the biggest smile you have ever seen. “Say it again, I didn’t hear it.”

You sighed. “I really like you Hanni.”

“Is it the truth?”

“It… is. Yes.”

“Why?”

“Hanni stop being evil! You have already read everything in that fucking chat. There’s literally everything there—I said it, will you put my phone down now?”

“Okay, it’s fine,” she said and put the phone on the desk. You were to let out a sigh of relief but it remained trapped in your throat when Hanni said, “I like you too.”

“You what?”

“I figured, you already heard me saying it, so I’m gonna say it for real now. I like you too, a lot.”

You two started to laugh awkwardly to fill the silence between her words. When you stopped, the silence was even louder than before. You were looking at the floor and Hanni was looking at the ceiling.

“What do we do now?” she spoke.

“I don’t know.”

“Shall we sleep.”

“I don’t think we have any other option.”

You two climbed on the bed, hopefully for the last time that night. You laid there still, miles apart from eachother, for several minutes, without anyone saying anything. Hanni decided to speak first, “How long have you liked me for?”

“Oh, we’re starting with those questions?”

“I think I deserve to know.”

“Well… it was since I’ve seen you for the first time in your class.”

“Oh, that long ago?”

“What about you?”

“Since last month.”

“That’s cool.”

Hanni turned to you, her black eyes searching yours, and with a nervous smile, she asked, “Can I ask you something?”

You turned your head and met her gaze, “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

Hanni hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Why do you like me?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you let out a happy sigh. “What do you mean, why do I like you. Hanni, there are so many reasons. Your smile, your laugh, the way you make everyone around you happy, your kindness, your intelligence… I can’t pinpoint a specific reason. Whenever I see your face, I feel little better, and I look forward to seeing you again the next day. That’s it really. Why do I love you? Because you make me live with more passion.”

Hanni couldn’t resist, your words were getting to her so she pounced on you, pulling you in a tight hug. You were started but just accepted it, because you loved it. You turned around, and hugged her back, leaving her head on your chest, just to get back at her.

“This is exactly why I like you so much,” she managed to say groggily.

A kiss was too soon, for each other, so when Hanni got close enough to your face, you nuzzled your noses and pinched her cheeks. They were extremely soft, they were chubby although her face didn’t look like it. The velvety texture of her skin was surprising, it was as if touching a delicate, plush petal. Her cheeks dimpled with the sweetest, childlike charm, and her silly laughter filled you with joy, making it impossible for you to resist her tenderness.

Hanni was blushing madly but she loved it.

“I guess we kind of are really like a couple now huh?” she said. “A thunderstorm outside, cuddling in a king-sized bed. I... I guess I do kind of like staying with you like this. Just a little bit. I guess this wasn't too bad.”

“We’re gonna talk about this tomorrow, let’s sleep for now,” you suggest.

“Yeah, good night.”

THE END

Written, 11 July 2023 - 02 October 2023

#hanni #newjeans #newjeans hanni #newjeans fluff #hanni fluff #kpop fluff #kpop #fluff

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 1 year ago

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Miraculous Ladybug Season 5 - An Overview

Well... that certainly was... the fifth season of Miraculous Ladybug.

While I was overall mixed on Season 4 with how much it varied in quality, I think I have a more concrete opinion of Season 5.

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Yeah, this season was a real pain to review, but not for the reason you'd think. Most of the episodes were either dull or average, so there wasn't a lot for me to really talk about. Of course, when things were bad, dear lord, were they bad. This analysis is somehow longer than my Season 4 one and the ranking post. Other than real life stuff getting in the way, there's a damn good reason why this took so long to finish. I basically wrote a college thesis on this season.

The Things I Liked About Season 5

Let's get all the good things about this season out of the way first.

For one thing, one of my biggest complaints about Season 4 was sort of rectified, the portrayal of Adrien. While I still have problems with him (which I'll get to in a later section), they're more about his impact on the story. As for his personality and attitude, it's a big step up. There's much less complaining, he's more active in the action, and is far more intelligent. Compared to Season 4, where Cat Noir was affected by an Akuma's powers or taken out of commission in order to raise the stakes eleven times (Lies, Mr. Pigeon 72, Mega Leech, Guiltrip, Optigami, Sentibubbler, Wishmaker, Simpleman, Ephemeral, Penalteam, Risk), here, funnily enough, it only really happened five times in Season 5 (Jubilation, Illusion, Derision, Emotion, The Final Day). It's honestly amazing. There were times where I thought he was going to be taken out or get portrayed as an idiot, but that almost never happened this season. Even some of the weaker episodes this season featured Adrien in a more active role, like “Passion”, “Reunion”, “Elation”, and “Deflagration”.

Also, as much of a problem that I have with Cat Noir trying to Cataclysm his enemies, I'm glad that the show at least tries to acknowledge this by showing his worst nightmare is a world where everyone is dead because of him. It's not handled well, and it's only done just to bench him for the finale, but I'll at least give the writers credit for putting in the effort to give him more nuance. It's a hell of a lot better than what they did with Gabriel, but I'll get to him later. By extension, his relationship with Ladybug is much more tolerable. The two work together well, talk about the conflict with Monarch more often, and for the most part, feel like actual partners. Yeah, that dynamic falls apart towards the end of the season, but again, I'll give the writers an A+ for effort.

Another thing I like is that this season tries to focus more on character pieces, with episodes focusing on characters like Nathalie (Passion), Kagami (Perfection), Luka (Migration), and Zoe (Adoration). They're not handled the best, but I'm glad the show is at least trying to give the supporting characters time in the spotlight, even though they don't have their Miraculous anymore.

Speaking of, I like the idea of the Alliance rings. It's really the only time Gabriel actually takes advantage of his status as one of the most influential people in Paris to push the use of something specifically designed to help give his Akumas more power. Given how prevelant the marketing for Alliance rings is, it's easy to see his plan working in the long term.

We also had a couple decent new Akuma designs, like Safari, Bugfighter, and... uh... Yeah, I got nothing else. This is pretty much the most praise this season is going to get from me. Sure, I'll go into some other aspects I like during later sections, but other than that, this is it. Hell, even the parts I listed earlier are only mentioned for the ideas they present, not the way they're executed.

The Final Season... Of Filler

We've finally made it to Season 5, the climax of the conflict with Monarch. This is going to be epic, with all kinds of compelling stories that can be used for episodes, leading to a final product that will go down as—my God, why is this season so boring?!

Like I said earlier, this season was a lot harder to review than Season 4 was, and this was one of the biggest reasons why. As bad as that season was, I at least had stuff to talk about. Here? Almost nothing. A good chunk of the episodes I reviewed just didn't leave an impact on me. Most of them were either forgettable, mediocre, or just okay. Some of the episodes had decent ideas and a handful of good scenes, but it wasn't really enough to reach the highs of earlier seasons, including Season 4.

It's strange, because at first, it seemed like the show was learning from its mistakes during the first three episodes of this season. “Evolution”, “Multiplication”, and “Destruction” were far from perfect, but you could at least tell the show was trying something different. There was tighter continuity, clever mind games on both sides, a rare instance of nonlinear storytelling, and major changes to the status quo. They explained why Monarch can't just beat up Ladybug and Cat Noir himself, why the Rabbit and Rooster Miraculous can't be used to end the story, and why the Alliance rings were created.

When Ladybug got the Rabbit Miraculous after failing to get the other fourteen back, you would think that this would lead to an arc where Ladybug and Cat Noir gradually reclaimed the Miraculous from Monarch until the final battle, but what did we get instead in terms of plot development?

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For what was supposed to be the final season, it felt like almost nothing happened. Sure, as always, the show tried to trick us into thinking stuff was happening, but several plotlines introduced this season were either abandoned or rushed through after a few episodes. The Resistance? Only relevant for five episodes, and even then, they didn't do much (Illusion, Deflagration, Confrontation, Revolution, Representation). Trying to discover how Monarch is giving the Akumas Miraculous powers? Only relevant in a single episode (Illusion). Felix having the Peacock Miraculous and being a total wild card? Only relevant for three episodes (Emotion, Pretension, Representation). The reverse Love Square? Only relevant for four episodes before it petered out (Determination, Passion, Reunion, Elation). Lila manipulating Kagami for some reason? Only relevant for two, maybe three episodes if you count that one scene in “Emotion”, and that was dropped in favor of her learning Monarch's identity offscreen (Perfection, Protection).

You'd think for a season with stakes this high, there would be bigger stories or more character drama, but we got nothing. The only real ongoing story we got was the Love Square finally happening, and trust me, I'll get to that later. There were plenty of ideas for story arcs here, but the writers pretty much ignored all of them.

Retcons! Retcons Everywhere!

This one's shorter, because it's a problem with the show in general, and I'll go into more detail about specific examples of this later on.

Miraculous Ladybug is a show that has always struggled to be consistent with its lore, worldbuilding, characters, story, and... well, a lot of things. I've talked about how often the show retcons things in order to justify whatever story they need to tell, not just for individual episodes, but story arcs too. There were so many episodes with stories that contradicted previous events or changed the motivations of certain characters on a whim.

In case you didn't keep track, here's a little highlight reel of some of the retcons this season.

Evolution: After both him and Ladybug were able to use multiple unifications last season with no problem, Monarch can't use too many of his powers without collapsing in pain. It also goes against what was established in “Kwamibuster”, the idea of using multiple Miraculous being enough to damage your sanity, where here, Monarch's body is damaged.

Multiplication: Adrien's reason for falling for Marinette was due to all the times she helped him, when it was usually the other way around in earlier seasons.

Determination: Adrien reveals he's had feelings for Marinette since the events of “The Puppeteer 2”, even though it never influenced any of their interactions between that episode and this one. It also contrasts the previous episode, where it said that Adrien was just starting to fall for Marinette for different reasons.

Derision: Chloe's bullying of Marinette had severe psychological damage that explains why she acts the way she does around Adrien... but ignores the romantic feelings Marinette has had for Luka and Cat Noir, and didn't act the same way around them, to say nothing about how she acted around Nathaniel when he had a crush on her during “The Evillustrator ”.

Intuition: The Snake Miraculous somehow makes Gabriel's Cataclysm wound worse even though the form of time travel it uses is mental, not physical.

Protection: Gabriel and Tomoe want their children to be in a relationship, yet Adrien and Kagami kept it a secret while they were dating.

Adoration: Zoe suddenly has feelings for Marinette despite showing no signs of it beforehand.

Emotion: Felix reveals he's doing everything for Adrien's safety, even though in his previous few appearances, he's done nothing but screw his cousin over by smearing his public image.

Pretension: Felix is against using a Sentimonster to defend himself and Kagami due to not wanting to force an innocent creature to follow his orders, yet he had no problem using a Sentimonster in the very last episode and in his next appearance.

Revelation: Lila has multiple secret identities she uses while pretending to be the child of several women, which had never come up at all during the last four seasons.

Representation: Kagami apparently learned Marinette was Ladybug right before she was akumatized in “Perfection”, yet Monarch didn't learn this like he did with Luka.

Do you see the problem here? Hell, I didn't even list every single retcon, or else we'd be here all day.

I don't get how a show that wants to be serialized can keep changing details like this. It's not even a case of the show replacing its writers with new ones who don't know as much as the old ones. This is mostly the same writing team for almost four seasons at this point.

Sometimes, the show will retcon stuff in order to justify stories when it doesn't need to. Remember how at the beginning of the season, Marinette was feeling guilty about her failure at the end of Season 4, and that influences her hesitance to accept Adrien's advances? The writers sure didn't, as “Derision” exists to give Marinette a whole new reason to not be comfortable around Adrien. Why the hell would you give Marinette a perfectly valid reason to not want to pursue Adrien, only to write an episode that gives her a different reason to not want to pursue Adrien? There was literally no reason to do this, especially during the last season of your first major story arc!

This season is clearly trying to be the most serialized of the bunch, yet the writers keep changing details about the story like that one Wallace and Gromit meme.

Season 5: The Show's Greatest Hits Album

Something I've noticed about this season is just how repetitive it can be. I know that sounds weird given this is a show that literally gave us the Status Quo-Yo, but please hear me out.

So many major story arcs and focus episodes are just rehashed versions of older things in this show, and not just the reused Akumas. Not only does the first half of Season 5 restate how complicated things are for Marinette's love live and how she can't love Adrien after what she did (something she gets over rather anticlimactically once Adrien confesses). Then there are other times where even plotlines established this season will get reused, and more often than not, it's worse.

In “Perfection”, Kagami is akumatized thanks to Lila's lies, and manages to break free from Monarch's influence thanks to her friends showing that they care for her. And then four episodes later, Kagami is akumatized again thanks to Lila's lies, only this time, she isn't able to break free. What... what was the point of having that emotional scene in “Perfection” if you're just going to treat her like a run of the mill Akuma a few episodes later?

And it's not just that. Big moments that happened in earlier seasons are pretty much redone but with a few changes to make it seem like they're different. Did you like seeing Adrien give up being Cat Noir in “Kuro Neko”? Well how about seeing Adrien and Marinette give up being superheroes in “The Kwamis' Choice”? Did you like seeing Chloe break off her friendship with Adrien in “Queen Banana”? How does seeing Adrien break off his friendship with Chloe in “Derision” sound?

But the worst of this has to be in the last seven episodes of the season. So much of what is essentially the culmination of five seasons' worth of story is just recycled. Let's go over why. In “Confrontation”, Marinette (and by her, I mean Sabrina with help from Marinette) manages to outsmart Chloe and Lila and put an end to their tyranny in the classroom. What are the next two episodes about? Marinette needing to outsmart Chloe and Lila, only now, they have reign over the city. This feels like something that should have been one major story, not something split up into two two-parters. Hell, you can't even say it's original to see Chloe in control, because this is also something that was done back in Season 1's “Rogercop”, only with the titular and the police following his orders for no reason instead of Chloe and her bootleg Daleks.

But hey, if an army of robots capable of using Miraculous powers, at least we can expect something even more creative for Monarch's ultimate plan, right? Yeah, Project “Perfect Alliance” is just a combination of Chloe's murder boxes and the exact same plan in “Heroes' Day”. People are brainwashed like in “Heroes' Day” and they get Miraculous powers like the robots in “Revolution”. Seriously? Nobody took a look at this and thought “Didn't we do this already?”

What's the point of making these two different evil plans when they're essentially the same thing? Why not give Chloe's robots various weapons instead of Miraculous powers if you're going to have an army of villains who have the same Miraculous powers two episodes later? Why not make it so the Miraculized are really the robots designed to help Chloe, only here, they have the ability to turn anyone wearing an Alliance ring into one of them, sort of like the Borg from Star Trek?

It's clear that after four seasons, the writing on this show has gotten incredibly stagnant if the major plotlines are just reused from earlier seasons. At best, it comes across like blatant fanservice, and at worst, it's a symptom of the writers struggling to come up with new ideas for stories. Either way, this is one of many reasons why not a lot of people are looking forward to Season 6. How can you expect interesting stories in the future when the writers keep recycling their old ones?

Felix and the Struggle With Sentimonsters or: This Is Starting to Sound Like a Bad Comic Book Plot!

Before I get into the problems with Felix this season, consider this: With Chloe (who I'll get to later), she was an example of someone who wouldn't get a redemption arc. Felix? This is the writers intentionally trying write a redemption arc. How did that turn out?

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The obvious problem with Felix is mostly due to, like a lot of things in this show, poor time management. He only had three focus episodes, and in that time, the writers needed to explain his motivations, establish him as a wild card, have him realize the error of his ways, develop his relationship with Kagami, and help out Marinette. They really wanted to do a lot with Felix, yet with how rushed his arc was, I have to wonder if there was some trouble behind the scenes that prevented him from getting more focus.

It doesn't help that what little we got was confusing as all hell. I've already gone into detail about the problems with Felix's motivations not explaining his actions, but here's a list of all the problems with Felix.

If Felix wanted to get the Peacock Miraculous from the start, why didn't he try stealing that in “Felix”?

If Felix cared about Adrien, why did he spend most of his appearances mocking him and ruining his reputation by impersonating him in “Felix”, “Gabriel Agreste”, “Risk”, “Emotion”, and “Representation”?

If Felix knew who Gabriel was, why did he come up with this elaborate plan to get the Peacock Miraculous in a trade with him instead of going to Ladybug for help in “Strikeback”?

If Felix realized Gabriel was dangerous and capable of wiping him out, why did he decide to give him fifteen Miraculous in exchange for a single Miraculous without doing anything to stop him in “Strikeback”?

If Felix could easily get rid of Gabriel with a single Sentimonster like he did in “Emotion”, why didn't he immediately do that as soon as he got the Peacock Miraculous in “Strikeback”?

If Felix wanted to stop Gabriel, why did he decide to wipe out all of humanity alongside him in “Emotion”?

If Felix cared about innocent lives, why did he decide to wipe out all of humanity without showing any remorse except for when he had to get rid of Red Moon in “Emotion”?

If Felix didn't want to create any Sentimonsters just to end their lives in “Pretention”, why did he do just that in “Representation”?

If Felix knew Marinette was Ladybug, why did he choose to tell her who Gabriel was in an unnecessarily complicated way instead of telling it straight to her face in “Representation”?

If Felix really hated his abusive father, why didn't he show any hatred for Gabriel (who gave Colt the damaged Peacock Miraculous and did nothing to stop the abuse) as well during his little play in “Representation”?

If Felix cared about stopping Gabriel, why did he only decide to go to Ladybug for help when Gabriel was getting in the way of his relationship with Kagami in “Representation”?

If Felix was willing to tell Marinette about Gabriel being Monarch in “Representation”, why didn't he do anything else to help her stop Monarch in “Comformation” and “Re-Creation”?

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With how many flaws his plans have, I'm surprised Felix hasn't said anything along the lines of “My pwan is gweat!”

For someone who claims to be doing a lot of things for Adrien, Felix tends to either screw over his cousin as part of his plans or forget him entirely. I don't mean he screws over Cat Noir, as his identity is one of the few things he doesn't know, but rather, how little his plans actually benefit Adrien. Putting aside his previous appearances in Seasons 3 and 4, in the span of a single episode, Felix pretended to be his cousin and smeared his public image, used a Sentimonster to wipe out all of his friends and loved ones while needing to be told by Adrien that doing so wasn't cool, and after that, he pretty much abandoned caring about Adrien.

Yeah, starting with “Pretension”, the writers once again change gears so Felix's primary goal is to help Kagami, not Adrien. It's Kagami that really helps inspire Felix's true turn to good, it's Kagami who he chooses to visit when she and Adrien are taken to London, and it's Kagami that helps him decide to tell Marinette Monarch's identity. Even though he only has three major appearances, the writers still decided to shake up his character arc for some reason. How does a team of paid writers struggle to stay consistent with any story or character arc they've written?

The worst part is that for a redemption arc, Felix shows little to no remorse for his actions. Not once does he apologize to anyone he's personally wronged, like Adrien, Marinette, or Kagami. He doesn't see anything wrong with giving Monarch more power and depriving Ladybug of almost all of her allies, and he had to be told that wiping all of humanity from existence was a bad thing. Felix has done so many terrible things in his quest for freedom, which isn't a bad idea, as it could make for an interesting discussion about whether the ends justify the means, but the show doesn't go that route. Instead, despite doing almost nothing but making things worse for Ladybug and Cat Noir, we're supposed to see Felix as a great person who just wants to have friends. Sure, having good social skills is a big part of being able to manipulate others, but let's just ignore all the people he's tricked and assume he doesn't know how to properly socialize with someone without stalking them.

It doesn't help that of all the characters this season, Felix makes the most progress in stopping Monarch. Puting aside his little genocide attempt in “Emotion”, he actually made an attempt to take Gabriel out of the equation, and later on, passed on intel about his true identity to Marinette. Think about that for a second. Marinette, despite being a hero with the ability to deduce what to do from simple clues given to her, isn't the one to figure out Monarch's identity. Instead, she has to be told who Monarch is, and is able to beat him only because Felix told her what to do. The worst part is that Felix doesn't even take part in the final battle when he has no excuse to not get involved. Remember, he doesn't have to worry about getting snapped away by Gabriel, so even though he cares so much about Adrien and Kagami, he does nothing to save either of them from their glorified solitary confinement.

Felix isn't a character. He's a glorified plot device who only shows up to advance the story instead of letting any character make progress by themselves. While Marinette and Adrien are focusing more on their love lives this season, Felix is the one actually getting things done. Because God forbid the two characters the show is named after actually do anything to stop the villain this season, am I right?

And that's not even getting into the Sentimonster stuff. Yep, to our collective horror, not only is Felix a Sentimonster, but it's also hinted that Adrien and Kagami are Sentimonsters too. I'm not sure why the writers are so hesitant to flat out say the latter two are Sentimonsters after all the obvious hints, especially when this is a show that loves to overly explain every plot detail and character trait. I don't know. Maybe they're just hedging their bets in case things don't go over well with audiences, but I can't possibly see anything bad coming from this. After all, how can you think of any uncomfortable implications stemming from the three major victims of child abuse literally being inhuman monsters who are physically unable to resist their abusers' orders?

With the Sentimonster “reveal”, Adrien and Kagami, two characters who were previously doing their best to be independent from their parents as they could at their age, are now physically incapable of even having a single negative thought about them without being ordered around while showing no resistance. Like I've mentioned before, it's a blatant retcon because it's never explained why Gabriel and Tomoe didn't do this during Seasons 2 and 3. It also gives the writers the opportunity to remove any agency Adrien and Kagami have in the plot, even though one is one of the two main characters, and the other plays a crucial role in helping another character expose the main villain's identity.

We're supposed to see Gabriel and Tomoe as wrong for ignoring their children's protests and forcing them to do things they don't want to do, but it doesn't lead to an arc where Adrien and Kagami rebel against their parents and break free from their influences. As soon as either Gabriel and Tomoe touch their respective rings, Adrien and Kagami are completely helpless, and there's no way for them to resist because of how powerful the link with their Amoks is. There's no hint that they have the potential to break free from their Amoks' influence, and the only time we saw that happen, it was a complete accident that Felix didn't even cause (Representation). Adrien and Kagami are both reduced to damsels in distress thanks to being Sentimonsters, and even though the show is trying to say they're trapped in a terrible situation, there's never a way out.

The most Adrien and Kagami do is express frustration with their situation, but most of the progress made in escaping their bad relationships is done by their respective love interests, Marinette and Felix. Yes, support systems are important, but rather than help Adrien and Kagami earn their freedom, Marinette and Felix do pretty much all of the work to save them during the latter half of this season. Hell, they couldn't even get that completely done by the time of the finale! Gabriel dropped dead and Adrien thinks he's a hero and Kagami's still living with Tomoe, only now she has her Amok ring. We're supposed to see this as a happy ending when they're both still influenced by their abusive parents, even if they don't have any physical control over them. The whole idea behind making Adrien and Kagami Sentimonsters should have been something about them, but with Gabriel and Tomoe, the writers only see them as helpless victims who can't do anything to save themselves. Sure, both of them have fought supervillains before, but we can't have them actually showing agency, can we?

I'm going to get into other ways Adrien and Kagami's characters were butchered this season, but for now, let's get into all the uncomfortable things this plotline implies. Now before I go any further, just remember that I am far from an expert on abuse or child psychology, so please take what I say with a heavy grain of salt. If there is anyone reading this who is a victim of abuse or knows someone who was, please don't be afraid to speak your mind about my analysis or correct me if I get any details wrong.

I get that making Adrien, Kagami, and Felix Sentimonsters was probably done so it'd be a way to explain the concept of child abuse to younger audiences, specifically to show how helpless the situation can be for victims, but the problem is how the allegory is handled. It wants to show how cruel the idea of child abuse is, but it doesn't want to outright vilify abusers like Gabriel or Tomoe. They usually try to sugarcoat it by saying that the two have good reasons for doing what they do, but that's a common problem with abusers. Abusive parents almost always believe that they're doing the right thing while their children think that they're just being punished for their own good, and the season ultimately takes that stance by the end.

The show is clearly trying to use the Sentimonster concept to tell a story about abuse, but I have no idea what exactly it's trying to say about it. “Child abuse is bad”? Okay, then why aren't you going to condemn the abusive parents for being abusive parents? And no, brief mentions of abusive parents who we never actually see onscreen don't count (Derision, Pretension, Representation). “Help out abused children”? Big talk coming from the season that only has two people actually fight to help the victims of child abuse, while treating another victim of child abuse as getting her just desserts (Revolution). “Parents have good reasons to do what they do”? Yeah, that normally applies to stopping your kid from getting a tattoo, not forcing them to whatever they want against their will.

The thing about writing abuse is that you need to acknowledge just how unhealthy it is, and do whatever it takes to take them out of the toxic environment. Here, nobody ever tries to remove Adrien from the toxic environment or tell him that what his father is doing isn't right. Sure, Felix tries to take Kagami away from her abusive mother, but that was only for like an hour at most, and then he just let her go back to her mother. Adrien doesn't even get that luxury. Hell, he isn't even allowed to know just how terrible his father was because he's just a sensitive baby according to the show. Portraying abuse victims as too emotionally fragile to know the truth is a pretty bad idea because, like I mentioned before, a big problem that abuse victims go through is that they're conditioned to see their treatment as normal at best, or see it as their fault at worst.

Like so many other serious topics discussed in this show, the writers clearly want to tell a story about abuse, but they're too afraid to actually take a proper stance on it, so they kept trying to play it safe in an attempt to not get backlash from audiences. Of course, because of that, they ended up portraying victims of child abuse as soulless husks who have almost no free will of their own, while ending the season by having them still under the influence of their abusive parents, even the dead one. Real bang-up job, there, writers. It says a lot when a Spider-Man PSA from almost 35 years ago did a better job tackling child abuse than you did.

And finally, let's talk about how this season's treatment of Sentimonsters indirectly influences our perception of them across the past two seasons. Even though the Sentimonsters created have shown almost no individuality from Seasons 2 to 4, only now are we supposed to see them as sentient beings, with Felix himself even taking offense at the idea at being called a Sentimonster. Never mind the fact that Felix never actually comes up with a proper alternative, so he just comes across as whiny when we're supposed to see him as a champion of the Sentimonsters.

In regards to the narrative the show decided it now wants to tell about Sentimonsters, I have two questions.

First, why should I care about Sentimonsters if the previous two seasons have portrayed them as nothing but soulless killing machines? If you're going to write a plot twist that changes the way we see Sentimonsters, you need to explain why we were wrong to only assume they're dangerous, especially since Argos' first Sentimonster literally wiped out all of humanity. For comparison, Ultraman Z did a similar plotline by having the main character realize that several of the monsters he killed as the titular hero weren't intentionally trying to harm humanity, so it caused him to doubt himself as a hero before he vowed to start finding non-violent ways to stop monsters if he could, while viewing the act of killing monsters that couldn't be reasoned with as a necessary evil. This show has no such arc and just expects us to ignore all the damage the Sentimonsters have caused since the end of Season 2.

Second, what about the Sentimonsters whose lives have been snuffed out by Mayura, Shadowmoth, and even Ladybug? The writers want us to sympathize with Sentimonsters and believe they get a bad rap? That's fine, but even if we did, what about the ones who were already wiped out of existence? Are we just not going to talk about them? Why should we only value the lives of Felix, Adrien, and Kagami and not any of the other Sentimonsters created in previous episodes? What, because they're not main characters, their lives don't matter?

All in all, everything about the Sentimonster was either poorly thought out or too preachy to take seriously, and Felix is emblematic of those problems with how he and the Sentimonsters are written. Oh right, I forgot Felix had a sidekick too, Kimberly—I mean, Kagami.

Kagami Never Hesitates to Be a Complete Idiot

If you read my overview of Season 4, I sang high praises for how Alya was written. Season 4 managed to take a character I had previously disliked and turn her into one of my favorite characters in the show. Now, with that being said, I want you to imagine the opposite of that happening to a different character, and you have my feelings on Kagami this season.

It's weird how, after she had made it through the past three seasons with her character somewhat intact, the writers decided to give her even more prominence by involving her in two separate arcs this season... and only made her nothing more than a damsel in distress who constantly needed to be saved in both of them. I'm not saying that Kagami should be able to beat the crap out of Monarch with her bare hands, but my point is that Kagami just lost so much agency this season.

When she wasn't being manipulated by Lila (Perfection, Protection), she was playing second fiddle to Felix and acting like he didn't hand over almost every Miraculous in Ladybug's possession to Monarch (Pretension, Representation). It's really strange, considering a defining character trait of hers is her hating liars like Marinette does, since it's why she dumped Adrien, yet here, she gets tangled up in the schemes of two different liars, Lila and Felix. I can at least get Lila (as dumb as her episodes are), since she's supposed to be seen as this master manipulator, but she just brushes all of Felix's crimes aside because he “doesn't know how to express himself”. Because even though she's always been loyal to Ladybug, she has no problem working with one of the only two people to betray her trust. But she loves Felix, so that makes it all okay.

What made Alya's arc last season work was that even though she was primarily Marinette's confidant, we also got episodes showing her struggling to balance her own desires with what needed to be done for the greater good (Optigami, Sentibubbler, Hack-San, Rocketear). She had to step up and become more than just one of the many temp heroes Ladybug called on, someone trustworthy enough to temporarily use the Ladybug Miraculous. Yes, she made bad calls, but when things went south because of her bad decisions, she normally took responsibility for her actions and vowed to do better. With Kagami, we don't get any internal conflict like that at all. She just blindly goes along with whatever Lila and Felix say, and even when bad things happen as a result, she never even thinks to call out either of them other than rarely saying something along the lines of “Hey, not cool.” (Protection, Pretension).

Kagami just doesn't get to do anything on her own terms this season. Her entire arc revolves around following Lila and Felix around like a lost puppy. And just remember, we're seriously supposed to act like Kagami is trustworthy enough to see that her defending Felix from Ladybug is enough to prove that he's a good person deep down... when this same season showed her easily falling for Lila's lies and getting akumatized twice as a result. It's like believing Dr. Nick can perform a life-saving kidney transplant after seeing him botch an open-heart surgery.

Even Kagami figuring out Marinette is Ladybug, something that should be a big deal like with Alya and Luka learning last season, is something we learn through a flashback and is, you guessed it, is only relevant to one of Felix's plans. And yeah, reveal your friend's secret to someone who someone who betrayed her. What could possibly go wrong? Again, when Alya screwed up, she was at least able to admit it to Marinette's face. Kagami never tells Marinette that she knows, and never faces consequences for throwing her lot in with Felix. What's her excuse, that she has too much love in her heart for Felix?

Speaking of which, let's talk about the biggest problem I have with Kagami this season, the way her relationship with Felix is handled. Let me make one thing clear: my problem isn't with people who ship the two together. Much like with the Love Square, my problem is how the show handles this romance. The two had almost no episodes together, and from what little we saw of them interacting, Kagami didn't like him, and for obvious reasons. But then “Pretension” came. Not only did Felix develop feelings for Kagami offscreen, all it took for Kagami to fall for Felix was a single conversation where he showed basic human decency. Yeah, Marinette fell for Adrien for similar reasons, but at least she and him took a while to actually get together. These two shared a handful of conversations, and now they're just made for each other.

The problem with this is that the relationship basically reduces Kagami to Felix's girlfriend and sidekick. All of her major appearances post-“Emotion” were in relation to Felix. She only helps him because of their relationship, and their relationship was the whole reason why Kagami convinced Felix to do what he should have done from the start, tell Ladybug who Monarch was... even though Astruc said this kind of relationship was toxic when discussing Lukloe.

You see, the difference between Lukloe and Feligami is (MAKE UP EXPLANATION LATER AND DON'T ACCIDENTALLY LEAVE THIS SPOT BLANK). And that's why we shouldn't see this as blatant hypocrisy on Astruc's part.

While it's par for the course, given how almost every female character in this show is connected to a male character in some way, the way Kagami is written this season is still part of a bigger problem. Kagami is not everyone's favorite character and not one people fiercely discuss as much as Marinette, Adrien, or even Chloe, but it's still baffling that out of all the characters in this season, Kagami would arguably sustain the most damage out of the entire cast. Given that this is the same season as Nino becoming the braindead leader of the Resistance, Chloe's brief stint as a tyrannical mayor, Nathalie choosing to do nothing about Gabriel until she was about to die, the baffling reveal of who Lila supposedly is (again, more on these later), or... really, a lot of things with both Marinette and Adrien, this is actually saying a lot. If you want to look at it at a particular angle, Kagami's actually a direct victim of practically all of the biggest problems in this season and I've had to mention her a lot more in this analysis than I anticipated. Then again, I suppose that's me showing more care to Kagami as a character than the writers did.

The Story of The Resistance (In Name Only)

I've already gone on about how underdeveloped most of the temp heroes are, so you can imagine the season where they try to help Ladybug without superpowers doesn't really change my opinion of them.

Remember how in episodes like Season 1's “Antibug”, Season 2's “The Dark Owl”, and even this season's “Jubilation” made it clear that trying to be a superhero without a Miraculous or proper training was essentially suicide? You know, how it was better to leave things to the actual superheroes? Well the writers sure didn't, as now we get to see a bunch of idiots try to take on supervillains with paintball guns and whatever they can throw at them. I'm pretty sure the writers put more effort into all the codenames themed after condiments than actually coming up with creative ways to fight Akumas. Because we all know how hilarious (citation needed) the flower codename gag from “Gigantitan” was, so let's do something like that, but for multiple episodes this season.

I'm just going to be blunt here when I say the Resistance this season sucked. Putting aside the fact that the writers couldn't come up with a less generic name or a name that wasn't already taken by the Ox Miraculous' power, this subplot was just so pointless. You have a team of former heroes who want to find a way to help Ladybug and Cat Noir stop Monarch, and rather than do things like pass intel along or find ways to stop people from getting akumatized, they decide to try taking them on themselves with their most powerful weapons being paintball guns. Congratulations, you now have all the equipment you need to take on Bart Simpson in a fight. Sure, they try to pass on intel to Ladybug and Cat Noir in their first episode, “Illusion”, but Nino's plan was so stupid, they ended up helping Monarch in the long term by letting his civilian identity into their team. Oh, I'm sorry, did you forget how Gabriel and Lila were inducted into the Resistance at the end of “Illusion”? It's okay, the writers did too.

And the idea of them passing on intel could have worked, as it would give Marinette a support system to help solve problems she can't figure out on her own, following up on her character arc from Season 4 where she learns to put her trust in people, but like a lot of things this season, the writers got bored halfway through and decided to change up this plotline. Now, they're prepared to fight anyone who gets akumatized. How many Akumas did the Resistance manage to stop completely on their own? One, and it was offscreen (Deflagration).

Trying to make the Resistance seem competent and effective comes at the price of making the villains look like idiots who can't handle a few teenagers without superpowers. Monarbug, someone who managed to unify with the Ladybug Miraculous, lost it thanks to the Resistance dogpiling him. Then, later on, they managed to stop Nightormentor, an akumatized Gabriel, by just throwing stuff at him. Do you have any idea how lame this makes Monarch look? It's like that scene from Robocop 3 where that kid somehow managed to make ED-209 as loyal as a puppy in a matter of seconds. It's not cool to see it happen. It diminishes the threat the formerly menacing villain posed.

The show loves to play up the Resistance as this amazing underground organization Nino is so proud of, but it doesn't work because you can count the number of times they've actually helped out on one hand, and even then, that's being that word Chloe doesn't know the meaning of (Deflagration, Revolution, Representation). Even then, they still fall for Lila's lies which, like Kagami, doesn't help establish any of them as trustworthy. The whole Resistance subplot is basically an excuse to make it seem like the former temp heroes aren't just sitting around, which again, isn't a bad idea, but nothing comes of it. We don't get to see any of them worry that they can't do anything without their Miraculous, we don't see where or when Nino got the idea to form the Resistance, and we don't even get any scenes where the worry about the captured Kwamis. The show just has them all operate under the same goal and makes it seem like they're making a difference when they barely do anything. None of them really feel like characters, and it shows this season.

Nino, despite labeling himself as the brave leader of the Resistance, is anything but. He constantly brags about how effective he is, but not only does he let anyone into his top secret organization without even thinking if they can really be trusted, all of his genius plans amount to, you guessed it, throwing stuff at the brainwashed people with superpowers. He's also so confident that he was awesome as Carapace when all he did was occasionally help Ladybug out with his Shelter, and then whines about not being chosen by Tikki and Plagg when Scarabella and Kitty Noire temporarily take over (Illusion, Deflagration). He's also so poor at gathering intel that not only did he fall for Gabriel's ruse and act like he figured out how the Akumas have Miraculous powers, he didn't even know his best friend was going to London until he got on the plane (Representation). I wasn't kidding when I said Nino was such a terrible leader, he makes Zapp Brannigan look competent by comparison.

And remember when Alya was a major character? Neither does the show! Out of the entire season, she was really only relevant to the plot when she became Scarabella for a few days, and even then, she didn't think that maybe she should take off the Alliance ring that monitors her every move if she's going to be a full-time hero again (Transmission, Deflagration). There is absolutely no follow-up to anything that happened to her in Season 4. She doesn't regret blowing her cover, she doesn't worry over not being able to help Ladybug as Rena Rouge, she doesn't worry about the safety of Trixx, she doesn't even consider the fact that she's not used to going back to full-time hero work after half a season of being undercover as Rena Furtive. At best, the whole thing with Alya exposing her cover to Nino last season gets played off for the sake of a cheap joke (Illusion).

Then there's Zoe. Like Season 4, I can definitely say that out of all the supporting characters, she was certainly one of them. They clearly try to give her these big moments in an attempt to endear her to the audience, like her brief stint as Kitty Noire or her coming out to Marinette, but because of how nonexistent her character development has been, these don't feel earned. I can't buy her friendship with Marinette or anyone else because of how little she appears. Hell, she was specifically introduced to act as a good counterpart to Chloe, and she did nothing to really contribute to her ultimate downfall other than sharing a single conversation during “Revolution”. That's how little the writers care about her, they don't even have her interact with the character she was designed to replace. I take back what I said about her being a Mary Sue way back in my “Sole Crusher” review, because at least those types of characters get plenty of focus in the narrative. All I can really say about Zoe after two seasons is that at least she's more interesting than Socqueline, a character so boring, this is the only time I'm going to mention her in this entire analysis.

And that's it for the Resistance. Only three side characters are actually worth talking about this season. That is how pointless of a group they are.

Chloe’s Arc That, in Case You Forgot, Was Totally Planned From the Start

I really don't know what else to say here. Remember, this entire blog was started because of how upset I was by Astruc's response to criticism of the Season 3 finale, specifically how Chloe's “damnation arc” was claimed to have planned out from the start.

For the sake of argument, let's go over this arc and just what happened with this character over the past eight years. In Season 1, Chloe started out as a standard high school mean girl who used her father's influence to get whatever she wanted, but wasn't that much of a threat compared to Hawkmoth and the Akumas. In Season 2, we got to see a different side to her that started a character arc, showing she was capable of changing and becoming a hero in her own right. In Season 3, while it seemed like Chloe was changing for the better, the finale had her betray Ladybug and go back to being the same mean girl she was before. In Season 4, we were introduced to Chloe's never before seen half-sister, Zoe, who only existed to replace Chloe as the user of the Bee Miraculous, and even though the very same episode where Zoe first got the Bee Miraculous hinted that there was still a chance of Chloe changing, the rest of the season acts like she's always been a menace to society with no redeeming qualities. In Season 5, Chloe was portrayed as a heartless monster who is worse than the main villain of the entire show, is simultaneously smart and cunning enough to bully Marinette in a way that would leave lasting mental scars for a year and also too incompetent to take seriously, and even though the season has made a big deal about how terrible child abuse is, her being sent off to live with her verbally abusive mother is seen as a perfectly suitable punishment for her.

I don't know what's worse, the fact that none of the writers had second thoughts about this character's “arc”, or the fact that Astruc probably thinks he made an antagonist as complex as Lady Macbeth. I also love how, despite all this supposed planning, not once do we get any explanation as to just why Chloe hates Marinette so much other than the fact that one's a rich person and the other is the main character in a cartoon.

Chloe's character was already going in a downward spiral in Season 4, but with Season 5, it feels like the writers just abandoned all attempts to be subtle and were determined to stop people from liking her. Like, it's amazing just how much time was spent hammering the point home. She got more focus as a villain than Lila and even Gabriel. We had about eight episodes this season that featured her in a major antagonistic role: “Determination”, “Deflagration”, “Derision”, “Adoration”, “Revelation”, “Confrontation”, “Collusion”, and “Revolution”. Almost a third of this season is dedicated to showing how evil Chloe is, as if she's somehow worse than people like Gabriel or Tomoe. And that's not even counting episodes where she got a line or two to remind the audience of how bad she is, like “Multiplication”, “Passion”, and “Reunion”.

The weird thing is that even though this was supposed to be the season where Chloe was at her worst, it still seemed like the writers couldn't make up their minds on what they wanted to do with her. For example, let's take a look at her relationship with Monarch. In “Multiplication”, she believed that Ladybug and Cat Noir should just give Monarch what he wants, implying she's still on his side. Then, in “Determination”, she blamed not having the Bee Miraculous on why Monarch was able to win, implying she wants to stop Monarch. And then in “Deflagration”, it's hinted that she once again willingly accepted an Akuma out of a desire to get revenge, implying that she's still on good terms with Monarch. Finally, in “Revolution”, she initially wanted to arrest Monarch when he arrived in her office, and had to be convinced to work with him again. Seriously, this is almost two seasons after she started working with Monarch in the first place. How the hell are the writers not sure if she's working with the villain or not?!

Of course, that's the least of my problems with Chloe this season. One such problem that it seems like the writers specifically went out of their way to ruin the few positive relationships Chloe had just so her fans would have less ground to stand on. Her friendship with Adrien? He finally decided to write her off as irredeemable just as he learned just how miserable she made Marinette (and only Marinette) at the end of “Derision”. Her friendship with Sabrina, as one-sided as it is? She doesn't even see Sabrina as a friend anymore, specifically referring to her as an underling starting with “Adoration”, and then Sabrina turns against her after she finds one specific scheme to be going too far. The sympathy Ms. Bustier had for Chloe, even though it wasn't relevant to her character after “Zombizou”? Chloe basically ignores any attempt made to reach out to her, and we're supposed to act like her wanting to help Chloe get a decent education because it's her job as a teacher is the stupidest idea in the world. Chloe's relationship with her own father? This season decided to make Andre out to be a man mentally broken by the bad treatment he gets from his daughter and totally not a corrupt politician, and outright disowns her in favor of adopting someone who isn't even his biological daughter.

It already felt like Season 4 exaggerated Chloe's negative traits, but now, the show doesn't want anyone to like her in-universe, as if showing basic human decency to her in the first place was off the table. Remember, in “Revelation”, Marinette's speech to Adrien was basically copied and pasted from one of Astruc's tweets, as if this was meant to address anyone who still liked the idea of Chloe changing for the better.

And trust me, I'll get to the characters who actually got redeemed later.

For now, let's talk about the main issue I have with her portrayal: The writers want her to be seen as a threat... but they don't want her to actually be a threat. Almost all of Chloe's appearances this season had her acting as a pawn to either Gabriel or Lila. This season also started to use dumb blonde jokes in order to show how incompetent she is, like having her struggle to understand the concept of the word “generous”, making her out as an idiot. The whole point of the “irredeemable villain” archetype is that the character is usually so big of a threat, there is absolutely no way of talking them down, so they need to be stopped through the use of force. Chloe is far from a threat, which is why all this talk about her being a monster falls flat.

At the end of the day, Chloe is easily at the bottom of the hierarchy of the villains on this show. She has no Miraculous like Gabriel, she has no advanced technology like Tomoe, and she's nowhere near as cunning as Lila is. The problem is that the show wants the audience to see Chloe as if she's the worst of them all. Fine, she may have the most obnoxious personality and least amount of redeeming qualities by the writers' standards, but this is a superhero show. You don't just rank villains on how mean they are, but also by how much of a threat they are to the hero. The moments where we're supposed to take Chloe seriously, the show keeps reminding us that she's only getting as far as she has because she's being used by other villains. It makes the moments where the heroes triumph over her ring hollow.

I'm not even joking here when I say that out of the show's entire rogues' gallery, Chloe is literally the only one who actually gets punished. Sabrina was able to wash their hands of her association with the bully, Andre was more than happy to give up his position as mayor and kidnap Zoe, Tomoe was never even exposed, Lila only faced a minor setback when she was exposed, Nathalie was healed by the wish, and even though he died, Gabriel died a martyr who never actually answered to any of his crimes. But Chloe? As fucked up as it was, she was the only one who received some form of punishment for everything she did. Congratulations, Ladybug and Cat Noir! After five seasons, you finally managed to defeat the Ringo Starr of your rogue's gallery, and all it took was unlocking the full power of your Miraculous.

I was initially angry at the show for just throwing away a character arc and mocking anyone who was interested in it, but now, I'm angry at the show for a different reason. Even if we were to assume that everything about Chloe was planned from the start, that she was supposed to be a fallen hero turned enemy, the show did nothing with it. If you're going to make Chloe a full-blown villain, then go nuts with the idea! Have her dedicate her life to beating Ladybug out of hatred, maybe even through a suit of armor like Princess Morbucks. Instead, this is the writing equivalent of intentionally setting your house on fire, but deciding you don't need the insurance money.

I'm actually going to say something that might sound blasphemous, especially coming from someone who has spent a lot of time talking about Chloe's character assassination, but I'm just going to admit it: I think Chloe should have been the next Hawkmoth, not Lila.

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Yes, that's probably what you're thinking, but I'm serious. Think about it. Between her and Lila, who has the closer connection to Marinette as an enemy? Who has a more fleshed out reason to hate Marinette? Who got more focus as a villain this season? Who has more resources at her disposal? Essentially, the show put so much effort into making Chloe out to be Marinette's most personal enemy, that it makes no sense for them to not just go all the way and make her the next big bad. The writers already go on and on about how irredeemable she is, so why not make her an actual threat for a change?

But no. Instead, let's just keep her as comic relief who somehow gets more screentime than almost every other villain this season. That's a good way to tell our story, right?

Now You See That Evil Will Always Triumph Because Good Is Dumb... And So Is Evil, Apparently

This section should be relatively easy for me to get through, since not much has really changed with the villains since Season 4. They're all still idiots even though the show wants us to see them as a threat to the equally idiotic heroes.

Let's start with our only newcomer to the show's rogues' gallery, and definitely the weakest, Tomoe. I'll give the show a lot of credit with the foreshadowing for Tomoe here. Unlike other plotlines where the show bashes you over the head with obvious hints like with the Sentimonster stuff, the hints leading to the reveal of Tomoe being in leagues with Gabriel are far more subtle. They spend a lot of time in Seasons 3 and 4 discussing things offscreen (probably about some version of the Alliance rings), and both of Tomoe's akumatizations happen offscreen as well (since their conversation would give away their alliance). It's handled pretty well... which is more than I can say for Tomoe as a villain.

Tomoe is just such a confusing character, both conceptually and the way she was used this season. She's meant to be Gabriel's new confidant after Nathalie decided to stop being a villain while still mooching off him, but she pretty much does the same things Nathalie does, including the constant nagging about how inefficient he is. She even serves the same role Nathalie served in earlier episodes as Gabriel's technical advisor. Tomoe is basically a second Nathalie, with the only differences being that she's blind and that she wants Kagami to be with Adrien. Of course, this makes no sense because, like I mentioned in the retcon section, Adrien and Kagami tried to keep their relationship secret before their breakup. How could Tomoe not notice this? What is she, blind—oh right...

There's also the issue I have with the way Tomoe's nationality and disability is portrayed here, and how it really highlights how terrible this show is with representation (not to be confused with the episode of the same name). Like with my Sentimonster section, if there's anyone reading this who is disabled or a person of color, and you'd like to say anything about this part or how this show's representation is handled, feel free to voice your opinion or correct me if I get anything wrong.

With Tomoe, it feels like the writers slapped on every Japanese stereotype you could think of and called it a day, because we've seen all of these before. She's dressed in very traditional Japanese attire, is named after a famous Japanese warrior, uses a kendo shinai as a cane instead of a walking stick, is a strict parent to her child who expects the best from her, makes references to Japanese culture like samurai (Pretension) and taiko drums (Protection), is a technological genius, forces her child into an arranged marriage, and uses Japanese honorifics while talking with Gabriel even when they're not speaking Japanese. I'm not saying Japanese people can't talk about their culture at all, but when you're writing a character who happens to be a person of color, you need to do more than make references to their heritage.

With Tomoe, almost everything she says is referencing her heritage, which makes it come across like the writers cared more about her being Japanese than anything else. Because somehow, the writers were worried kids wouldn't pick up on the fact that she's Japanese... when she's wearing something that makes her look like she just stepped off the set of an Akira Kurosawa movie.

But hey, at least they say Tomoe is Japanese. I don't think there's a single indication that she's blind. At most, they give her the stereotypical superpower every blind person in superhero media seems to have, enhanced hearing. Of course, while characters like Daredevil and Toph Beifong have in-universe explanations for how they're able to “see” without their eyes (Daredevil's enhanced senses came from the same chemicals that blinded him in the first place, while Toph learned an advanced Earthbending technique that gave her the ability to sense others through vibrations in the earth), Tomoe just has them because the writers thought it would be cool. I know it might seem strange to say this after I talked about how too much focus was given to Tomoe's Japanese heritage, but you'd think more would be done with her being blind, and how it would factor into her motivation to create a better world through technology or her ideology about self-discipline. Instead, she acts like every other character on this show, to the point where all three times she was akumatized, she got her sight back.

The main problem with Tomoe is how other than her heritage and disability, she has almost no personality other than being a strict mother to Kagami (something that is also a negative Asian stereotype) and her vague ideology about suppressing her emotions. She's basically a female Gabriel, and because she's a woman in this show, lacks any depth or redeeming qualities. There just wasn't enough time to really develop Tomoe as a character in the same season she was revealed to be a villain. Sure, they try to hint at her having history with Gabriel, but that never goes anywhere, and we never even learn just why she's working with him in the first place other than some vague desire to make the world more technologically advanced in spite of also being a traditionalist who loves honoring old beliefs. Just remember, Chloe got eight focus episodes as a villain this season, yet Tomoe only got one.

Now for Lila, the most competent of the villains... by comparison. The show clearly wants her to be seen as a master manipulator in the same vein as David Xanatos from Gargoyles, but how they show it is just poorly executed. Sure, sometimes she would get ahead in clever ways during episodes like “Illusion” and “Revelation”, but other than that, a good chunk of her plans rely on contrivances that we're supposed to see as part of her plan when she would have no idea if it would actually happen or not. In fact, let's go over all the things Lila did during her last five episodes of the season and see how her master plan played out.

Step 1: Revelation – Convince Ms. Bustier to hold another election for class representative, lie your ass off to get the position while making it seem like you rejected an Akuma, and win the election.

Step 2: Confrontation – Tamper with confidential school documents while hoping your enemy doesn't plan anything to stop you, and if your plan falls through, abandon your identity entirely and hope nobody ever tries to look for you.

Step 3: Collusion – Convince your pawn to record a conversation between the mayor and the man you somehow know is Monarch and then after the conversation leads to an Akuma forcing him out of office, tell your pawn to accept an offer from Monarch's civilian identity that you somehow knew he'd make, leading to your pawn becoming the new mayor by force who everyone is too stupid to even think of opposing.

Step 4: Revolution – Tell your pawn to take an offer from the same supervillain she's willingly worked with before, watch her go mad with power and assume that Ladybug and Cat Noir will defeat her, and then in the chaos from her defeat, assume that one of Monarch's associates will randomly leave her computer behind for you to use.

Step 5: Re-Creation – Develop an immunity to magical nightmare dust, hack into the heavily-guarded mansion you know where Monarch lives while the city is being swarmed with supersoldiers, hope you don't run into Monarch or any heroes trying to stop him on the way there, take the hole created by a Cataclysm you know would be there, assume that Monarch will lose, and seize his Miraculous from the ruins of his lair that you somehow know how to navigate after surviving all of reality being rebooted.

General Patton, eat your heart out. I think we all know who the real tactical genius is here.

Seriously, how the hell did she even know half of the stuff involving Gabriel and Tomoe would happen? Yeah, she had Tomoe's laptop after the events of “Revolution”, but she didn't see how their final fight would play out. You could also argue that we technically never saw her go into Monarch's lair during the final battle (all we got was a shot of her looking down into the hole Bug Noire created with her Cataclysm), but why didn't she go down if she disguised herself to infiltrate Monarch's lair? Was she just scoping out the area? Was her entire plan just to steal Monarch's Miraculous? There were so many ways this could have blown up in her face, so let's go over all of them, shall we?

What if Ms. Bustier didn't agree to hold a reelection for class representative?

What if Marinette won the reelection anyway?

What if Lila wasn't able to escape during the chaos caused by Monarch's Megakuma targeting Mr. Damocles?

What if the school managed to contact one of Lila's moms and tell her about what her “daughter” did?

What if Chloe wasn't able to record the full conversation between Gabriel and Andre?

What if Andre agreed to use the police robots without any manipulation?

What if Miss Sans-Culotte wasn't able to get Andre to resign?

What if Andre did resign, but managed to appoint a interim mayor until the next election?

What if Chloe didn't accept Gabriel's offer?

What if Chloe didn't accept Monarch's offer?

What if Chloe managed to arrest Monarch with her robots and got all of the Miraculous herself?

What if the French military was sent to stop Chloe's abuse of power?

What if Ladybug and Cat Noir weren't able to stop Chloe and lost their Miraculous to Monarch?

What if Chloe double-crossed both Lila and Monarch and managed to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous herself?

What if Tomoe didn't carelessly leave her laptop behind during the final battle with Chloe and her robots?

What if Tomoe realized she lost her laptop and sent someone to track it down?

What if Tomoe installed a kill switch on her laptop to make sure nobody would be able to do anything with it in the event it got stolen

What if Ladybug didn't learn Monarch's identity?

What if Lila fell victim to Nightormentor's nightmare dust?

What if Lila was attacked by some of the Miraculized before she could make it to the Agreste Mansion?

What if Gabriel caught Lila while she was attempting to sneak in?

What if Ladybug caught Lila while she was attempting to sneak in?

What if Nathalie caught Lila while she was attempting to sneak in?

What if the Gorilla caught Lila while she was attempting to sneak in?

What if some of the Miraculized caught Lila while she was attempting to sneak in?

What if Lila got caught in the crossfire during the final battle between Bug Noire and Monarch?

What if Bug Noire didn't Cataclysm the floor and beat Monarch at the entrance of the mansion?

What if Bug Noire wasn't able to defeat Monarch?

What if Ladybug managed to find the Butterfly Miraculous before she did?

What if Ladybug caught her while she was trying to find the Butterfly Miraculous?

Do you see why I only think Lila is the most competent villain by comparison? A good chunk of Lila's “plan” amounted to her waltzing over and reaping the benefits from every coincidence she's around to see. And she's supposed to be this criminal mastermind who thought this all out from the beginning?

Lila's planning makes about as much sense as her motivation. Why does she hate Marinette and Ladybug? They both called her out on her lies back in Season 1 and 3 respectively (Volpina, Chameleon). That's it. This is enough for Lila to want to become a supervillain and terrorize Paris. I get that the idea is to contrast with the more noble goal Gabriel had as a supervillain, but you need to give more of an explanation if you want the audience to care about Lila becoming the next Hawkmoth.

At the very least, if the writers wanted to build intrigue about Lila, have this be the season where she first appears. Build her up as this mysterious new girl who wins over Gabriel's trust, only she has an agenda of her own. By having most of her appearances be this season, it's more obvious that she has a bigger role to play, and would eventually become the next Hawkmoth. Instead, it seems like the writers put a bunch of names on a dartboard, Lila's name was the closest to the first dart they threw, and that's how they decided who Ladybug's next arch-enemy would be. And once again, Lila hasn't even touched a Miraculous in five seasons, yet we're supposed to believe that with the help of that vague glowing light she saw as soon as the first put on the Butterfly Miraculous, she'll be able to take on eighteen superheroes who have plenty of experience fighting Akumas?

Speaking of, let's get into the final main villain, Gabriel. Compared to the others, he had a pretty decent start. He felt a lot smarter than he usually did, like how he used his influence to market the Alliance rings in order to boost his Akumas' powers, or once again trick Ladybug and Cat Noir into thinking he isn't Monarch. He even managed to outsmart Scarabella and Kitty Noire by using the Alliance rings to learn their identities, and almost got their Miraculous as a result. For the most part, Gabriel was a pretty clever villain who capitalized on every screwup the heroes made, and actually came across as a threat... that is, until “Protection”.

Starting with “Protection”, Gabriel decided that even though he has only a few weeks to live at best, he needs to focus more on meddling in his son's love life instead of getting Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous in order to save his wife. It comes across like he cares more about stopping Marinette than he does stopping Ladybug in the latter half of the season. Hell, Gabriel doesn't even set up any plans for what would happen to Adrien if he died despite once again claiming to be doing everything for his family. Also, for some reason, he really wants Adrien and Kagami to stay together and become a couple for reasons that I can only assume is because of some kind of social commentary on the rich. Is Gabriel trying to start a eugenics program? Is this how Khan was born?

The abrupt detour Gabriel's motivations take is connected to one of the bigger problems with this season: How Gabriel's Cataclysm wound is handled. We're supposed to sympathize with Gabriel and how his days are numbered thanks to what happened, all while he's desperate to achieve his goal... when not only did Gabriel Cataclysm himself at the beginning of the season, he almost never brings up his wound until the writers want to add unnecessary drama to the story. At most, he'll either flinch in pain a little because of the wound (Elation, Perfection, Intuition, Protection, Emotion, Confrontation), or show his purple hand to show how serious it's gotten while saying he doesn't have much time left (Passion, Pretension, Revelation, Collusion, Conformation). At least, we're supposed to see it as serious, as the injury never really gets in the way of his plans.

Rather than a painful injury that's slowly killing him, the show treats Gabriel's injury with the seriousness of a sprained ankle. Yeah, it's painful, but nothing serious. Aside from one episode (Intuition), we don't see Gabriel struggle that much with his deteriorating health or how it gets in the way of his plans. Compare this to how Nathalie's condition has been portrayed. As Season 3 progressed, Nathalie got weaker to the point of forcing Gabriel to abort his second outing as Scarletmoth (Ladybug), she became so sick, she had to be benched as Mayura by the end of Season 3, and needed cybernetic crutches just to help her walk during Seasons 4 and 5. While I criticized her sudden wrinkled appearance by the events of “Representation”, the show still made it clear that Nathalie was struggling to go about her everyday life over the course of the last three seasons. As for Gabriel, whose condition is supposedly more serious to the point where not even the Ladybug Miraculous can heal it? At most, it's less something influencing his belief that he has nothing left to lose, and more a mild injury at best.

Another problem I have with Gabriel is the same one I have with Tomoe and Lila: The lack of a proper backstory. Yes, we know the basics of it (his wife is comatose and/or dead, so he became a supervillain to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous and save her), but we know nothing about his life before that. Thanks to “Revelation”, the most we get is that before he became a fashion designer who took an interest in discovering the Miraculous, he used to work in fast food like Skeet from Jimmy Neutron. Hell, the two even have similar haircuts.

Whether Gabriel knows the difference between salt and sodium chloride is still up for debate.

The show wants to say that Gabriel used to be different, but we don't get to see that side to him. If you want to say Gabriel used to be nicer, then give us a flashback to show how much Emilie's death affected him. That way, it would also give the scene in the finale where he breaks down have more weight to it, as it would show him letting down his emotional defenses.

Also, why was Gabriel so interested in the Miraculous in the first place if he found the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous before Emilie got sick? The show establishes that Gabriel went exploring with Emilie and Nathalie, but why? What were they looking for? How did this lead to them getting into fashion? How did Gabriel and Emilie get so rich if Amelie inherited the Graham de Vanily fortune? This was the season that was supposed to wrap up the storyline regarding the Agreste family drama, yet we still know so little about them or how Gabriel and Emilie even met.

Finally, let's get to the Akumas. The season makes a huge deal about how dangerous Gabriel is now that he has almost every other Miraculous at his disposal, how hard the battle against him will become. How do the Akumas reflect that idea? Very poorly. Twelve of the season's Akumas were reused models (Ikari Gozen in “Multiplication”, Darker Owl in “Jubilation”, the Collector in “Illusion”, Glaciator in “Elation”, Sole Destroyer in “Deflagration”, Dark Humor in “Derision”, Riposte Prime in “Protection”, Vanisher in “Adoration”, Matagi Gozen in “Pretension”, Hoaxer in “Revelation”, Reflekta in “Confrontation”, and Nightormentor in “Representation”), and only ten of them were original (Manipula in “Determination”, Safari in Passion, Kikou in “Transmission”, Ryukomori in “Perfection”, Gold Record in “Migration”, Bugfighter in “Intuition”, Miss Sans-Culotte in “Collusion”, Queen Mayor in “Revolution”, King of Plastic in “Action”, and the Miraculized in “The Final Day”). I've also gone over this several times, but despite the main gimmick being that the Akumas have Miraculous powers now, the show never really explains why Monarch can't just give them those kind of powers himself, especially when he could easily recreate Miraculous powers as far back as Season 1 (Copycat, Antibug, Volpina).

Most of the Miraculous powers didn't actually feel like upgrades and just excuses to recycle Akumas on the basis of acting like they have new powers when it's almost always just giving them the same old powers. Either that, or with the new Akumas, they'll just make it so their only powers are related to their Miraculous powers, like Safari getting all of her gear thanks to the Goat Miraculous' Genesis, Kikou and Ryukomori's only abilities being related to their respective Miraculous powers, or Queen Mayor getting the power to control robots with multiple Miraculous powers. There were exceptions like Manipula getting the Ox Miraculous' Resistance as an added precaution, or Vanisher mixing her stealth with the Dog Miraculous' Fetch, but they were few and far between.

Overall, almost every villain this season was just so underwhelming. While the Akumas were once again mostly reused character models, we learned almost nothing about the villains other than the fact that they're idiots. Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot the fact that by the show's logic, almost all of the villains aren't really villains. Let's talk about how the show handles redemption arcs now.

The Redemption Misconception or: The Power of Love Always So Strong?

While younger readers might not understand this, there was once a time on the internet where one of the most debated shows was Steven Universe, and mainly for one reason: How it handled the topic of redemption. Pretty much every major antagonist had changed their ways by the end of the show, including Lapis Lazuli, Peridot, the Cluster, Bismuth, Spinel, Jasper, and even the Diamonds. While the quality of each of these redemption arcs varies from character to character, as is the moral status of each character, there's one thing I can say about how the show got the moral about redemption across: It was consistent. Aside from one or two characters like Eyeball or Aquamarine (who were more ignorant than anything else), there was never a case about someone being physically incapable of changing their ways, which tied into the overall theme of how important compassion is. With the way Miraculous Ladybug handles its redemption arcs, I unfortunately can't say it does it the same way Steven Universe does.

Pretty much every major villain, antagonist, or associate in the show gets a redemption of some kind. This includes Nathalie, Felix, Sabrina, Andre, and even Gabriel, while Chloe, Lila, and Tomoe are all viewed as beyond saving. The problem is rather than actually acknowledge the things any of them did as wrong before they start to change their ways, pretty much every “redemption” in this show amounts to downplaying their crimes. If the writers don't retcon the story so characters like Nathalie, Sabrina, and Andre were forced to help a greater threat instead of being willing accomplices, they'll retcon the story so characters like Felix and Gabriel were perfectly justified in their actions due to having a tragic backstory. Yes, while the point of a redemption arc is to have a former antagonist realize the error of their ways and turn a new leaf, it doesn't mean that the character who goes through this arc was never bad in the first place.

Like a lot of problems with this show, this is obviously contradicted by the way it handles Chloe. Any argument made on why every villain who was redeemed this season was stated to not apply to Chloe for some reason.

“Felix is a victim of child abuse and has a lot of emotional baggage!” Funny, because I remember in “Derision”, Mylene made a point about Chloe having a deadbeat parent not being enough to justify her actions, so by that logic, Felix shouldn't be getting away with anything.

“Sabrina and Andre were being forced to go along with Chloe's evil plans, so it's not their fault!” Chloe was also a pawn in Gabriel and Lila's schemes, yet we're still supposed to see her as evil. “But she still went along with Lila's plan!” By that logic, so did Sabrina and Andre, since they still listened to Chloe for a while instead of distancing themselves from her far earlier than they did.

“Gabriel and Nathalie are doing everything they can to help Adrien while they're both in poor health! Chloe didn't actually care about Adrien!” Sure, it's clear that (according to the retcons in Season 4), Chloe only cared about Adrien as a meal ticket, you can't say Gabriel and Nathalie care about Adrien either, since one is an abusive parent and the other did nothing to actually stop the abuse. Also, why should I feel bad for either of them when they routinely endanger lives and are only on death's door because of their own terrible choices?

I'm not saying that the show doesn't make decent points about why Chloe can't be redeemed. The issue is that these rules are never applied to anyone else who does get redeemed. The show tries to use characters like Chloe and Lila as a cautionary tale about how easy it is for your kindness to be taken advantage of, yet we never get any examples of compassion being a key factor in any major redemption this season.

Pretty much every villain who changes their ways only does so out of self-interest. Nathalie was fed up with Gabriel's constant failures and her own declining health, Felix only cared about doing things that would benefit himself like hooking up with Kagami, Andre was more than happy to resign even though he was forced to do so by an Akuma, Sabrina chose to stop helping Chloe after one particular plan goes too far (without actually apologizing for all the times she still went along with Chloe's schemes, no less), and Gabriel only stopped trying to hurt people once he got exactly what he wanted and died a martyr.

For a show with the lyrics “The power of love always so strong!”, why do we never actually see the power of love in action? And it's not just them. Whenever a character shows some form of compassion for an enemy, it's usually met with a dismissive attitude or fails miserably, and if it's not that, it's all lie to trick someone else.

In “Illusion”, Gabriel's plan to throw off suspicion that he's Monarch involves pretending to let Ladybug and Cat Noir get through to him.

In “Derision”, Rose pointed out Chloe's relationship with her mother as an excuse for why she's so mean, only for Mylene to argue against that despite being in a different boat than Chloe is.

In “Revelation”, Lila kept lying about having a caring attitude and believing that anyone can change, which was obviously meant to mock anyone who had that kind of viewpoint.

In “Collusion”, Ms. Bustier tries to reach out to Chloe after everything she's done, only to lose her job as a result.

In “Re-Creation”, the whole reason Bug Noire manages to beat Monarch was by putting him in a situation that would take advantage of his compassion for his wife, and later on, Gabriel manages to get the upper hand by taking advantage of Marinette's own compassion for him.

For a magical girl show, these writers are really terrible at teaching the lesson about showing kindness to your enemies, because more often than not, it's just violence that solves everything. Just ask the citizens of Paris in “Revolution”.

It doesn't help that the morality in this show isn't a complicated spectrum that weighs every action a character does and allows for other stances besides good or evil. Instead, it's like a light switch with two settings: “So good, you volunteer at the local children's hospital” and “So bad, you voluntarily send children to the hospital”. Characters in this show are either good or bad, and there's no room for in-between. Even when characters supposedly do change their ways, the show goes out of its way to claim that this is what they've always been like, which completely undermines the idea of what a redemption arc sets out to accomplish.

The thing is that I've actually seen examples of “Character X was only doing bad things as part of their plan!” and “Character X was only forced to do bad things for the villain!” done with one character, and it was a very recent example too. In the recently concluded Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger, one of the major villains was a tyrant named Racules, who took advantage of several monster attacks to secure more power for his kingdom, but later on, it's revealed he had a reason to do so. Long story short, Racules was the latest in a long line of rulers who was essentially blackmailed into carrying out a war by an immortal being from space named Dagded. However, Racules had a plan to secretly find a way to kill Dadged, and it involved playing along by pretending to be a heartless tyrant. By playing up his persona of a villain, not only did Racules drive his brother Gira (who was revealed to be an immortal creation of Dadged) to gain the weapons necessary to fight Dadged, Dagded trusted Racules so much, he decided to give him the power to kill an immortal. Guess who Racules chooses to kill as soon as he gets that ability.

While the reveal that Racules was good all along happened very late into the series, it worked far better than any redemption in this entire show for one reason: Racules isn't let off the hook for what he did. Everyone, Racules included, acknowledges that he did terrible things for years, and as soon as the situation is resolved, Racules is imprisoned for his crimes. Racules even admits to going mad with power at one point before he focused on his goal again, and he doesn't complain while he's in prison.

We never get any moments like this with the other redeemed characters. Nobody ever acknowledges that they went too far. They do one or two good things, and therefore, they're perfectly okay in Marinette's eyes.

Like a lot of topics it covers, this show wants to have its cake and eat it too when it comes to redemption. It wants to show characters changing their ways, but it doesn't want to actually hold those characters accountable for their actions. It wants to explain that not everyone can be redeemed, but it doesn't want to explain what causes people to want to redeem themselves. It wants to have an idealistic view of solving problems with compassion, yet it goes out of its way to mock those with that same ideology while claiming that violence is the only answer.

Maybe if Astruc spent less time arguing with people on Twitter over the concept of redemption, he and his team could have put more effort into fleshing out the all of the half-baked redemption arcs this season.

Adrienette Is Finally Canon! The Love Square? What’s That?

Well, it finally happened. After seven years, five months, fourteen days, 115 episodes and three specials since the show originally premiered in France on October 19th, 2015, Marinette and Adrien have finally gotten together for real. No cop-outs, no reset button, no misunderstandings, this is real. Credit where credit is due, the writers could have easily kept stalling and wait until the very end of the season for Marinette and Adrien to get together and called it a day, but they gave us over half a season of them in an actual relationship. Unfortunately, this also meant the writers had to rush the development of the relationship in order for Adrienette to become official in the first place.

Like a lot of stuff in the first half of this season, the writers pretty much speedran through the plotlines building up to Marinette and Adrien getting together. During the course of a mere eight episodes, we got a plotline about Marinette feeling guilty for letting her feelings for Adrien make her screw up, a plotline where Adrien realizes he has feelings for Marinette, a plotline where Marinette falls in love with Cat Noir, a plotline where Adrien stops having feelings for Ladybug, and finally, a plotline where Marinette stops having feelings for Cat Noir. These are all plotlines that we should have gotten over the course of the past four seasons, but instead, the writers are just cramming them all into less than a dozen episodes.

Considering how this was meant to be the final season originally, you can tell the writers realized they actually had to actually resolve the “Will they or won't they?” plotline instead of just padding things out like they normally do. But that's the problem. This was something fans, shippers, and general audiences were told to look forward to for years. Keep in mind, one of the biggest arguments you could make for just why the writers waited until Season 5 for Marinette and Adrien to officially get together was because they had something HUGE planned. This is a big deal for the show, something you can't take too lightly. If Astruc and the other writers were so intent on hyping up Adrienette for over four seasons to the point of showing two alternate timelines where they get together to tide viewers over, they needed to make sure they had a payoff so incredible, so satisfying, that their audiences would see it as more than worth the wait.

Just how was the big moment where Marinette and Adrien officially got together this season after so many years of buildup?

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To be perfectly honest with you, I had absolutely no goddamn idea that the end of “Transmission” was meant to signify them finally starting a relationship. It just felt like the writers were doing the same thing about them being friends with a hint of something more on the horizon, but then the opening of “Deflagration” made it clear that here was major progress made in their relationship, though Marinette denied it due to her own anxiety, and by “Perfection”, it's confirmed that the two are dating. I just... really? This is how the two finally get together? It just... happens? No big dramatic confession? No romantic first date building up to this? Not even a kiss? The two talk for a few minutes, watch an Akuma fight, and now they're an item. Are you kidding me? Sure, most of the big moments in their relationship are saved for after they get together, but there's the problem: the writers half-ass the moment where Marinette and Adrien get together! It's more or less an afterthought in a two-parter involving a battle with Monarch where nothing was really accomplished.

You'd think for all the uncertainty Marinette felt over her feelings for Adrien this season, them getting together would be seen as a big moment, but it just doesn't for some reason. While you could argue it's a lesson in your fear of confessing being harder than the act itself, not much attention is given to Marinette growing closer with Adrien, because, for some reason, the writers decided to hold off the love confession and the first kiss for far later in the season (Pretension, Revolution). That's right, even after Marinette and Adrien finally get together, the show still needs to find a way to draw out the development of Adrienette.

I don't get it. Why couldn't the confession and kiss be what cements Adrienette, so more focus could be given to other plots? You can't say the “Will they or won't they?” stuff is the only draw to Adrienette, because there are plenty of plots you could write now that Marinette and Adrien are together. You could have an episode where Marinette invites Adrien over to breakfast with her parents in a follow-up to “Weredad”. You could have an episode where Marinette and Adrien try to go out on a perfect first date, only to struggle to balance their superhero lives getting in the way. You could have an episode where both Marinette and Adrien worry they're not good enough for each other, only for them to realize they love each other for who they really are. You could have an episode where Marinette and Adrien finally get closure on their former relationships with Luka and Kagami respectively. There were plenty of options for stories here, yet rather than do literally anything like that, not only did the writers drag out Marinette and Adrien's first kiss, they had the main villain take a break from trying to get the Miraculous to focus on breaking up the two.

As I mentioned earlier, we get a new arc all about Gabriel trying to break up Marinette and Adrien so Adrien can start dating Kagami again. Now I know what you're probably thinking: “IOTA, wasn't it implied that while Adrien and Kagami were dating, they were keeping their relationship a secret from their parents? Why are their parents suddenly obsessed with them getting together?” Well, you see, the answer to that is... that I have no answer because this makes no sense and is yet another excuse for a story arc that is somehow relevant to the overall plot. It's because of Gabriel's irrational hatred of Adrienette that Adrien is sent to London, and as a result, is absent from the final battle.

The sad thing is that I honestly thought Marinette and Adrien had some cute moments as a couple this season and had some believable chemistry. It's nothing groundbreaking, and there are plenty of flaws that I'll get to later, but for all intents and purposes, they still made a decent couple. It's just too bad that everyone else won't shut up about how amazing they are together. When their friends aren't trying to set up these cinematic scenarios for Marinette and Adrien that keep failing (Perfection, Protection,), they're gushing over how amazing of a couple the two are (Transmission, Deflagration, Revelation). At best, it comes across as the writers saying “How do you do, fellow shippers?”, and at worst, it comes across as the writers taking a victory lap while treating Adrienette as the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Adrienette just dominated the latter half of this season, and it really got in the way of the overall story regarding the conflict with Monarch. What's that? You're saying I forgot something, like the other three sides of the Love Square. Ah, good eye, my friend.

SO DID THE FUCKING SHOW.

For the thing that got a lot of people interested in the show in the first place, the rest of the Love Square is criminally underutilized this season. Marinette randomly develops feelings for Cat Noir for a handful of episodes, Cat Noir randomly moves on from Ladybug, and I don't think we even got a single Ladrien scene this season. It really felt like the writers realized this was meant to be the last season, so not only did they have to get Marinette and Adrien together as quickly as they could, they also had to acknowledge the other sides of the Love Square. Of course, they did that without actually doing an identity reveal.

There are theories that the reveal was going to happen this season with how much Marinette and Adrien only talked about each other and not their superhero partners (implying they both knew who the other was), but the writers changed it at the last minute because they got renewed for more seasons. I suppose it makes in a meta sense, but what about the in-universe explanation? What's stopping Ladybug and Cat Noir from learning each other's identities when literally every other hero in Paris can get their Miraculous back, even the ones who had their identities discovered? Were the writers so uncertain if people would still watch the show if there wasn't any mystery in Marinette and Adrien's relationship? What exactly is there left to explore with the Love Square when Adrienette is canon, while Ladynoir, Marichat, and Ladrien are all dead in the water?

Like a lot of things this season, the handling of the Love Square started off strong and gradually petered out to the point where I just don't care anymore. I started this season assuming the reveal would actually happen, but of course, the writers just won't let this subplot die already.

Adrien Who?

While I don't really have a lot of bad things to say about Adrien compared to last season, this is unfortunately part of the bigger problem with how he was handled this season.

Like I said earlier, it seemed like the writers actually learned from their mistakes last seasons with how Adrien was written during the earlier episodes last season. He stopped whining about how he was totally important and started pulling his weight in battle. He was very active in fighting Akumas and actually felt like an equal to Ladybug. Yeah, Ladybug still called the shots, but the two stopped bickering over stupid things and had more conversations about other things. It didn't matter if they were more casual chats about their lives (Perfection) or discussions on the enemy's plans (Intuition, Revolution).

The problem, like a lot of things this season now that I think about it, comes in the second half. Remember how last season made a big deal about how wrong it was to leave Adrien out of the loop with so many secrets? Once again, the writers seemed to have forgotten this major story arc that they wrote themselves. Now, not only does Gabriel crack down on his horrific treatment of Adrien through his ring, not only does Adrien's character regress to being nothing more than Marinette's trophy boyfriend, by the end of the season, Adrien is literally reduced to a damsel in distress who needs to be saved, instead of, you know, A SUPERHERO. And remember, the writers were very proud of how this was planned for almost a decade, all because they got to supposedly subvert fairy tale tropes.

I feel like this whole “Save Adrien” plotline could have worked if Adrien wasn't already a superhero, and was just a civilian Marinette knew. Yeah, it would still be using an overdone trope, but at least if that happened, Adrien would have an excuse to not be able to fight back as opposed to the several he made during the finale. Instead, for the majority of the season's second half, Adrien takes a backseat to a major story arc revolving around his family and isn't even given proper closure by the end.

“But IOTA!” You might say. “The show's called Miraculous Ladybug, not Miraculous Cat Noir! Of course Ladybug has to save the day! She's the main character!” That may be true, voice in my head, but here's the thing: If Adrien wasn't going to be part of the final battle, why wasn't this about Marinette's family? Why not make Monarch Tom or Sabine trying to bring back their spouse? Marinette is the main character, yes, but so much of the backstory in this show is connected to Adrien's family. The show tries to connect Marinette to this through her relationship with Adrien, but with how often she and Gabriel fight over what's best for him, Adrien kind of just sits around, not protesting against his father in the slightest. I'm not saying Adrien should be the main character. I'm saying that Marinette should be tied more into the story if you were going to base a lot of the drama on her perspective during the final battle. It's almost like making it so Adrien physically can't rebel against his father was a stupid way to keep him out of the conflict.

Why the hell couldn't we have gotten a scene where Adrien's connection to Gabriel was broken? There were plenty of options the writers could have used. You could have had Nathalie steal the other ring back from Gabriel to give to Adrien, have Argos use the Peacock Miraculous' powers to override Gabriel's commands, or have Adrien unlock a new form of Cataclysm that severs the bond with his Amok. And that's not even getting into the excuses the show made for why he can't get involved, because God forbid one of the two main characters in the show's title get to take part in the final battle.

In fact, I'm pretty sure this is why Felix was introduced, to do the things Adrien should be doing. Felix is the one who has a vendetta against Gabriel, a deeper connection with Kagami, knowledge that he's a Sentimonster, and an overall influence in the plot. The writers are so obsessed with coddling Adrien that they created an entirely different character to fill in a role for him, and Felix wasn't even in the final battle. And just remember, Adrien was originally created to replace Felix in the story, so Felix taking over Adrien's role as the character who helps advance the plot makes even less sense.

Even if the final battle is meant to be over Adrien, it comes across less like Marinette and Gabriel are fighting over his freedom and more who gets to control him. Gabriel doesn't use his wish to free Adrien from the shackles of the rings. He just gives Marinette the rings and hopes she won't do the same kind of things he did with the rings. Nothing changed over Adrien's treatment except who gets the keys.

It'd be one thing if Adrien at least chose Marinette over his father, but Adrien isn't even allowed to know the full story on anything, not even the Sentimonster stuff. Okay, putting aside the fact that Adrien has lots of friends and family to help him cope with this, maybe I can buy not telling him about Gabriel. Not telling him he's a Sentimonster is something I can't excuse. This is like not wanting to tell someone they have diabetes and hoping they know how to use their own insulin while they're downing Pepsi after Pepsi. It's not just a matter of hurting Adrien's feelings. His fucking life depends on those rings. He should obviously know to keep them safe and not trade them for magic beans or something stupid like that.

But the biggest problem with Adrien this season is how it goes against everything the show has said about him and his relationship with Marinette/Ladybug the last four seasons, and especially Season 4.

For the past four seasons, the show has loved to say that no matter what happens, Ladybug and Cat Noir will always be here for the other, even against the world. Put aside how unlikable Adrien was last season, that was the ultimate lesson, about the two reaffirming their bond. And yet, here we are in the Season 5 finale, when literally the entire world is against Ladybug and Cat Noir, and Cat Noir is nowhere to be seen.

One of the main reasons why Adrien jumped at the chance to be a superhero was the freedom it gave him from his restrictive lifestyle, and how it led to him making more friends at school. And that very same story ends with Adrien admitting it's a good thing for him to stay inside and never acknowledge the fact that his father was kind of a dick. Remember, this was planned in advance for YEARS, and absolutely nobody thought it contradicted one of the most important aspects of Adrien's character: his desire for freedom. Now the same person who would demand to not be kept in the dark about so many things (Lady Wifi, Syren, Lies, Sentibubbler, Rocketear, Risk) is now sitting around like a coward while everyone else saves the world instead.

I still think Adrien was at his worst in Season 4, with how much of an whiny and insufferable idiot he could be, but Adrien in Season 5 is a close second. Yes, I wanted him to stop acting out and demanding that the world cater to his every whim, but I also wanted him to prove he was as valuable as he says. The first half of this season seemed to understand this kind of criticism and reminded the audience that Cat Noir was still useful, but when the actual story kicked in, the writers were so determined to keep the secret identity bullshit going, Adrien somehow got less focus as a hero than the Resistance, a group of temp heroes who actually lost their Miraculous. And consider the fact that this season wrapped up the drama with the Agreste family, so for all we know, Adrien will get even less screentime next season.

If Adrien is supposed to be an invaluable ally to Ladybug, then why doesn't the writing accurately reflect it?

The Problem With the Biggest Idiot of Season 5: Moronette, “Of Course I Know What I’m Doing!” Royal-Pain, AKA, Ladydumb

You know, it's funny. I kept defending Marinette when the writing kept making her out to be a terrible hero last season while Adrien got by without a single criticism, to the point where I considered Adrien to be the worst part of the entire season. Oh, how the tables have turned with dear old Marinette, as the season that chose not to criticize every single action she took is when she's arguably at her worst.

You have to wonder if the writers finally realized how much crap they put Marinette through over the last few seasons by having her always forcing her to learn some contrived lesson and were like, “Oh yeah, she's supposed to be someone the audience is supposed to root for.” Unfortunately, they went way too far in the other direction with how they handled Marinette.

The way Marinette was written this season felt eerily similar to what happened with Adrien last season. Suddenly, her personal drama is of the utmost importance (Determination, Passion, Reunion, Elation, The Kwamis' Choice, Perfection, Migration, Derision, Adoration, Pretension, Representation), she's making incredibly stupid decisions in battle (Evolution, Destruction, Determination, Pretension), she becomes the moral compass of the show who lectures others on what to do (Revelation, Confrontation, Collusion, Revolution), and she's never really called out for her actions by the other characters despite how often she makes things worse.

So much of the first half of this season is the exact same crap over and over again. Marinette complains about how hard things are for her and her conflicting feelings for Adrien. I wouldn't really mind something like this if it wasn't for two things.

First, there's no real arc involved with this. Marinette keeps complaining about her love life, and she never really learns anything from it. She doesn't even get to confess to Adrien and show her growing as a character. Adrien confesses to her, and bam, the two are a couple now. Glad to see all the discussions about Marinette's anxiety was completely pointless since she doesn't get to be the one to really confront her inner demons. Well, there was one time in “Derision”, and we all know how well that turned out, right?

Second, more often than not, it seems like Marinette is prioritizing her personal life over the situation with Monarch. You know, the guy who has access to fourteen different Miraculous? After you only managed to get one back? I'd understand if we got this kind of arc in the earlier seasons, but by doing this, you're undermining the current threat Monarch poses. She's even willing to give up being a superhero if it means being with Adrien. That is how important her love life is to her. She's willing to let Tikki force the responsibility onto someone else if it means she can be happy. Of course, this isn't too surprising, as Astruc once said that the show is supposed to focus primarily on romance, not superhero action.

THIS IS WHAT THOMAS ASTRUC ACTUALLY BELIEVES.

Just like with Adrien last season, the show seems to care more about Marinette's personal issues at the expense of other characters. Do you want to know how many episodes this season focused on Marinette's love life in some way? EIGHTEEN (Multiplication, Jubilation, Determination, Passion, Reunion, Elation, Transmission, Deflagration, Perfection, Derision, Protection, Adoration, Emotion, Pretension, Revolution, Representation, Conformation, Re-Creation). Literally two-thirds of the season includes Love Square drama. Even if you want to be generous and count both two-parters as single episodes, that's still more than half the season. This is yet another problem with waiting until what was originally supposed to be the last season to resolve your plot. You need to force all of this development through almost every episode until people get tired of it.

Because of this, Marinette basically took over the narrative of Season 5. Almost every major conflict revolved around her, even the stuff with Adrien. Rather than make a story about Marinette and Adrien working together to break free from Gabriel's influence, Marinette is the one who has to do the heavy lifting and save Adrien herself. I've already talked about this with Adrien, but it bears repeating, as this is same issue I had with Season 4. Just like how Adrien got more focus during a story arc that should have been about Marinette last season, Marinette is now getting more focus during a story arc that should have been about Adrien, to the point where Marinette gets to use Adrien's Miraculous during the final battle with Monarch.

I'd at least be somewhat forgiving towards the shift in focus if Marinette actually got to do anything to advance the plot herself. Because of how often the show focuses on Marinette's love life, very little time is dedicated to showing Ladybug making an effort to actually stop Monarch. The closest we got was in “Illusion”, and that was a plan spearheaded by Nino. Like I said earlier, Felix does more to advance the plot out of any character, even Marinette, THE ONE THE SHOW IS NAMED AFTER!

We have three separate episodes where Ladybug has Monarch at her mercy, but she decides to talk about how she's totally won and that Monarch can't get away at all, and then Monarch gets away in a matter of seconds. I just... this is “SHOOT THEM WITH THE DEHYDRATION GUN!” levels of stupid here! The only reason Monarch gets as far as he does is because Ladybug can't just grab any the Miraculous he has all over his body.

We're seriously supposed to see Marinette as an amazing hero when she keeps screwing up every opportunity she gets to stop Monarch. In the span of one season, Marinette went along with being forced to retire because she got a chance to date Adrien (The Kwamis' Choice), chose not to form a temporary alliance with an Akuma even if it meant possibly getting the Peacock Miraculous back and stopping a potential threat (Pretension), had absolutely no plan to stop Lila until someone else came forward with information on what she was doing (Confrontation), decided to let another Akuma force the mayor out of office (Collusion), and failed to stop Gabriel because she got tricked again and was completely helpless as the entire universe was recreated before she took credit for defeating Monarch afterwards in the new reality and then decided to honor the insane supervillain's wishes and keep her boyfriend completely in the dark about the truth even though she learned not to keep secrets from others (The Final Day) and MY GOD, I HATE THIS SEASON SO MUCH.

When Marinette isn't making terrible decisions, she's lecturing others on how to act around their enemies, and when I say “how to act”, I mean “refuse to give them even the slightest bit of respect after doing the bare minimum to help them try and change”. Marinette really lets her own personal biases toward Chloe and Lila get to her this season with how the latter half of the season had her tell others not to even consider trusting them because of how easy it is for them to take advantage of kindness. You know, something you'd hear someone like Superman or Spider-Man teach kids about.

In fact, here's a little game any aspiring writer can play when writing superhero characters: If you can't imagine someone as noble as Superman saying something like this...

Marinette: But sometimes, the good we think we see in some people is just a reflection of our own, and we end up being fooled by our own kindness.

Unless your intent is for them to be flawed or in the wrong instead of a complete paragon of virtue, you need to go through your drafts.

And just like Adrien, even though Marinette keeps screwing up, she's never held accountable for her actions. She's never allowed to be wrong, and is almost always the one who gets to lecture people, mainly towards the end of the season. A good example of how poorly written Marinette is this season is when she whines about Ms Bustier not punishing Chloe enough when not only does she fail to understand that Chloe is still being punished, but she did absolutely nothing to bring Chloe's cheating to her teacher's attention when as class representative, it's her job. I don't care how stupid that idea sounds, that's what the show goes with, and it makes Marinette's inaction come across as very irresponsible.

But then again, neglecting her duties at school is nothing compared to acting like Marinette didn't fail to save all of reality while not showing the least bit of remorse for it. I'm just saying, when even Ben 10: Omniverse of all shows does this kind of story better, you know you've screwed up. Again, we're supposed to see it like Marinette won because the universe is in one piece, when, once again, SHE FAILED! Like I said, she failed at pretty much everything she set out to do this season and didn't stop Monarch outside of warding off his Akumas. This is seriously how the show was supposed to end, with Marinette failing to save the universe and the audience just needing to accept it. Well, in case it wasn't obvious on my front, I don't. Hell, forget Ben 10: Omniverse. Even Star vs. the Forces of Evil had the main character save the day, even if it meant potentially screwing over countless lives by destroying all magic in the world. Marinette? “Well, everyone I know and love is technically dead and the madman I spent five seasons trying to stop gets to die a martyr, but everything looks like I saved the day, so that technically means I didsave the day! Man, I'm a great hero. Good thing the other characters basically exist to remind the audience of how amazing I am.”

If there's one thing to take away from everything that's happened, it's that this was the season where Marinette has arguably become one of the biggest examples of a show failing to make the audience like their main character. There was much time dedicated to rationalizing and trying to justify the worst possible decisions she could've made and acting like she's still an amazing hero. Stuff like this only serves to further validate the criticisms people have had for her as a character ever since Season 5. And remember, this is coming from someone who went out of their way to defend Marinette last season. In an attempt to show her at her most heroic and virtuous, Season 5 pretty much cemented Marinette as a terrible main character, a terrible superhero, and a terrible role model for children.

Eight Years for This?

I'm going to be perfectly honest with you guys. This season just broke me, and there was a good reason why this analysis took so long to write.

While there were a number of outside factors that made it hard for me to get the time to write (work, the holidays, family gatherings, etc), there were still times where I either didn't have a lot of material to work with, or I just couldn't find the motivation to work on the reviews. I guess throughout all these years, I figured that after all this buildup between the Love Square and Adrien's relationship with his father, there would at least be something I could find this season that would allow me to say this was worth the wait. Unfortunately, it was just disappointment after disappointment this season, with a universally hated finale to boot.

To me, this was the season that burned away the remaining goodwill I had for the show, because there's just no salvaging it at this point. The writers pretty much butchered every single character in some way, excused the main villain's actions for a sorry excuse for a heroic sacrifice, and literally reset the universe so all of the characters we've come to know for almost a decade technically don't exist anymore. Even the cliffhanger for Season 6 really excites me, because why should I care about a character we still know nothing about becoming the main villain? Why should I care at all when the writers have made it clear they don't care either? They don't care about writing character development, they don't care about writing consistent lore for their world, they don't care about approaching serious subjects with the delicacy they deserve and they certainly don't care about telling a consistent story.

Season 5 of Miraculous Ladybug was a failure in every conceivable definition of the word. It failed to deliver a satisfying conclusion to any of the stories that had been set up for years, and if this was how the main story ended, I don't really have a lot to look forward to when Season 6 premieres.

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