#will i ever explain what this means? maybe. who knows

[kuroosamuu]

megumi x reader | warnings: making out | wc: 687

—

you and megumi decided to keep your relationship a secret. for reasons quite obvious to the two of you, for the current predicament you find yourselves in being one of the main ones.

with the two to of you both being students at jujutsu high, you're with each other more often than not. because of this, you two try to keep your feelings for each other at a minimum and keep anything away to the nosy people around you who would love to tease you about your relationship.

and megumi feels strongly about preventing that from ever happening.

well, that didn't last that long.

It was currently 1am, everyone was sleeping, and you were on your way to megumi's room.

you two did this often, finding the only moment of privacy with one another being in the middle of the night, where no one could interrupt the time you spend together. this was your time to be able to talk to him freely, without worrying about someone else interrupting your conversation or saying something about you two being a bit too close.

so, when you arrive and softly knocked on the door, you felt the relief you always feel when he opens the door, and allow yourself to throw your arms around him.

"missed you."

"you saw me today."

you pull away, pouting at him, "you know what I mean."

"I know, missed you too," he leans down and gives you a quick peck, before you two make your way to his bed to cuddle.

a daily routine at this point.

you lay with your head on his chest, his arm secured around you as you two talk mindlessly about anything and everything.

you end up perching your chin on his chest to look up at him, and before you know it, you lips are on his.

It starts off slow, gentle even, like every other kiss you two share. soon, you place your palm on his chest for leverage as you lift yourself up more in order to deepen the kiss.

megumi sits up slightly, bringing his back to rest on the headboard behind him as your lips move in sync, slowly deepening with each kiss.

you allow your hand that was previously situated on his chest to wander up and over his shoulder, as he takes one hand and place it on your waist.

he brings his other hand to the other side of your waist and moves you to straddle his lap properly now.

the kiss deepens in his new position, allowing yourself to hook your arms around his neck, while his one hand stays on your waist, the other slowly moving up and down your back.

all that is consuming your mind and body is megumi and you don't think of anything else, mind completely taken over by the feeling of his lips against yours.

and he is in the exact same way, hence the reason neither of you heard the door to megumi's room creak open.

and you didn't stop until you hear the crash of something hitting the floor.

you gasp as you part from megumi, throwing yourself off of him as fast as humanly possible and creating as much distance between you two as you could on his small bed.

you turn to look at the source of the sound to see yuji standing at megumi's doorway, whatever in his hand now on the floor, along with his jaw wide open.

the awkward silence between you three lasts for what feels like forever, before megumi finally speaks up.

"don't you know how to knock? what are you doing here."

"I did knock! you didn't reply so I just let myself in..." yuji replies looking between you and megumi, "maybe I shouldn't have..."

"It's not what it looks like," you try to explain weakly.

"I'll just leave you two alone."

yuji runs out of the room, and you look at megumi, the two of you knowing you're going to hear an earful tomorrow from both nobara and gojo, who yuji is definitely telling right now.

so much for keeping your relationship a secret.

—

[whore-ibly-hot]

"1-800-HANDY-YAN"

Yandere!Handymen (Tucker and Billy) x Fem!Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Oral sex, yandere behavior, Dub-con, perverted thoughts, misogynistic comments (mostly tucker), class economic divide? Spying, obsession, stalking, double trouble yanderes, mention of female genitalia and breasts on reader

A/N: Yeah, maybe this is eight hundred weeks late, I got super motivated then super not. But trust me, this piece is 👌

Metal tools clink together, the sound of screws and the occasional drip of left over water fills up the space beneath the sink as Tucker works on the clogged drain.

"Wrench." He sticks his hand out of the cabinet and extends his fingers while his mullet-haired friend whose sat just outside. Bill hands him the wrench, sighing as he cranes his head to see around the doorframe and into the living room of this nice suburban home.

"Alright, gimme the bolt." The skinny wife-beater clad handyman asks his broad set and chubby friend. After a few moments, he calls again. "Bill, bolt. Cmon," He groans as he slides out from the sink cabinet and look at his distracted coworker. Smacking him upside the shoulder he shakes his head. "Get your fuckin' head outta the clouds, or I'll have your fatass get stuck up under this sink tugging on the hair and shit in here." He grumbles. "What the hell are you even-" He leans forward against the tile to see forward at what's captured Bill's attention, and then sighs.

"Stop looking at the homeowner if you ain't gonna do anything, Billy. You've got a limp dick crush on her, why won't you do anything about it, huh?" He nudges his friend. "She's always calling us for little home repairs, and she never has anyone over. I mean, her beds always made too." He whistles lowly as he sees you watching the TV in the living room, eyes raking over your tits and ass as he bites his lip back a bit.

"What does her bed have anything to do with whether or not she's got a fella?" Bill asks weakly, and Tucker rolls his eyes.

"Please, no one is ever here, and her bed isn't made. She's not exactly getting rolled around and pounded in it, is she? Shit, I dont even remake my bed after I jerk it."

Bill shushes him and shoots a panicked look back towards you. "She could hear you, just... don't talk about her like that. She's trusting us to be good to her house and to, uh, to her."

"Well-" As Tucker finishes up with the drain and reattaches the pipe, flipping the sink water back on and letting it run for a minute, he pulls out of the counter. "Why don't we let her know the jobs done, yeah?"

Walking into the living room, Bill has always tended to be quiet around you. You'd seen the scruffy men around the suburb you live in before, they appeared to be everything men. They work on plumbing, fix lights and wiring, mow lawns, and they got good reviews from your neighbors. It's obvious they don't really fit in in the neighborhood. The men are scruffy, usually in dirty clothes with unkempt beards and a beaten up old van. They're from the poor end of town, a rather rough trailer park. They are treated as useful workers, but poor company by your wealthy neighbors. Still, they've been nothing but nice to you, sweet even.

"Hey guys, is the sink fixed up?" You ask, perking up from your spot on the couch and casting aside the tv remote.

"Sure thing, jobs all done." Tucker sniffs, rubbing at his chin and putting a hand on his hip. "We figured it was a super quick job, so Bill suggested we give you half off since it didn't take the full hour." He nudges his friend, who seems shocked at his attempt to get you to speak to him.

"Y-yeah." He mumbles out, swallowing harshly. "Didn't want to charge you for anything extra." He explains quietly.

"Thank you guys, that's so sweet, but you dont have to do that." You sigh and out your hand on your hip. "Well, let me go grab the money I owe you." While you get up, Tucker makes himself cozy on the couch, spreading out like hes always lived here.

"So, missy. We've helped you out quite a bit, fixed things here and there, haven't seen a fella around." He says. "Surely you'd have an easier time fixing this stuff with a more permanent solution."

"Knock it off-" Bill spits under his breath, but his friend just smile mischeviously and sinks deeper into the fabric.

"Yeah, I just haven't met a guy I'm interested in." You explain, talking over your shoulder as you get the money from your bag. "Or any guys whove been interested in me."

"That can't be true-" Bill starts, his sudden outburst makes the attention in the room focused on him. "I just mean, you seem like a real nice lady, sweet." He explains, hands fiddling with the edge of his flannel top.

"That's really sweet, thank you, Bill." You tilt your head with a soft smile and he just nods in acknowledgement, blushing a bit. "What about you guys? You two have anyone special?"

Tucker clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "Hell naw, it's a bachelor pad in our trailer. I mean, we bring girls back sometimes, but you know-" he shrugs. "Bill's kinda hopeless with the ladies, and I'm never satisfied." He winks.

Sitting up, he puts his hands on his knees. "You know, you're a real nice gal, I mean, most people won't even look at us while we work, to busy keeping an eye on stuff and making sure we don't steal. So nice in fact, my friend here's got kind of a crush on ya."

Your eyes widen as your head quickly swivels to the now sheet-white Bill, his hands out in front of him as if to show he means no harm. "N-nah, it's not like, not like that!" He exclaims, looking mortified. "Please, Tucker's talking outta his ass, don't listen to him. Really, I have nothing but professional feelings for you." He says. Hes removed his hat from his head and holds it to his chest, both as a nervous movement and a stress fidget.

"He's lying. Everytime we come here to work, I practically bruise his arm trying to get his attention. He just sits and gawks. I'm being a good friend, telling him to man up."

You set aside your wallet as you slowly approach him, every step feels heavy as you walk up to the broad-shouldered gentle giant. "Is that true, Bill?" You ask. "Do you... are you really interested in me?"

He sighs deeply, refusing to meet your gaze. "I do. I'm sorry, I tried to keep things professional, and respect your boundaries." He begins to ramble as you smile a bit. "I mean, I-I support women and their safety, I know you put a Lotta trust in lettin' us into your home. I'm a feminine!"

"Feminist, stupid." Tucker snickers, and you shoot a warning glance at him. He puts his hands up.

"Its alright, Bill. You've been nothing but sweet and respectful to me, and you guys always come when I call." Crossing your arms, you rub just above your elbow. "Its been hard adjusting to the neighbordhood, people are kinda stuck up or unkind, but you're both so real. And sweet, and-"

"Extremely sexy, right?" Tucker coos, slinging a boney arm around your shoulder. Bill seems shocked at his friend sudden physical contact with you, a boundary he's never dared cross. "She's offering you a compliment, Bill. Come on, return it. Tell her all the nice things we've said about her, like how she's got a great rack." His scratch stubble rubs your cheek a bit from where he's stood behind you. "You really do have a great pair."

"I never agreed with what he was saying, I would never, um- talk about a girl like that, my momma would be so upset with me. Tucker was the one sayin' all that dirty stuff about you." Bill explains. "I would just say you looked prettier than a peach' and he'd make it all gross."

"So..." You grin a bit as your eyes slowly trail over his body and up to meet his gaze. He's trying hard to avoid yours. "You don't like the way my tits look?"

A wild, toothy grin flashes across Tucker's face, he knows where this is heading, and his friends reaction is even more amusing.

"No, I- I do. They look, they look great. Round..."

"Round? What the fuck is wrong with you, that's how you describe her girls?" Tucker shakes his head and turns back to you, his mouth close to your ear so he could whisper in. "Tell you what, before Billy-boy says something that dries out your puss, why don't we take this up to your room? I have the advantage of knowing the way." He ever so slightly grind the front of his jeans to your ass, the growing erection obvious. "Cmon baby, we're handymen, let me clean those pipes."

You immediately cackle and lean forward, gripping your stomach. Tucker looks confused and offended as he puts a hand on his hip. "Sorry!" You exclaim, still laughing. "Sorry, that was just such a stupid line, I'm sorry."

"It wasn't stupid, it was sexy." Tucker scoffs. "Really fucking sexy, you know how many panties get dropped at bars because of 'stupid' lines like that. Don't dance around it, if you don't wanna bone just tell me." You perk up at that, seeing a rare moment of insecurity in Tucker's face. Face flushed, he seems embarrassed, actually wounded. Bill moves to stand a little closer to him, trying to put a hand on his shoulder before it's swatted away with a quiet 'fuck you, don't touch me'.

"No, I... I do. I do, you're both attractive and I haven't had anyone in a long time. You've always been good to me, but I-" You sigh. "I dont know if I can be what you want? I'm not exactly a freak in bed, and I've never been with two guys before." You begin.

Excitement reunited, but still softened by that moment of vulnerability, Bill speaks up for once. "You're perfect." He says, steadying himself. "Really, you don't have to be experienced or nothing, I'm a big clutz but trying your best is what matters. And we'd go as slow or as gentle as you wanted. And as for two guys-" He sighs and swallows harshly. "If you just wanna do it with Tuck, I'll wait he-"

"No, no, it's not that at all. I'm getting caught in my head, I want this." You hold out a hand brush over his flannel shirt buttons, fiddling with one. "I want you. Both of you, as appreciation for how hard you've worked." Looking over at Tucker, you smile. "You seem the most eager to get started, why don't you lead? I imagine you know what you're doing."

"Damn right I do, sexy mama." He gropes your waist as he plants a feverish kiss on your neck. "Glad you're finally giving some attention to lil' ol' me. Go upstairs and get all pretty, lay that pretty body out on your bed while me and Bill pack up and grab a couple rubbers from the truck."

You quickly summit the stairs, and make the most of your time by stripping down to a simple pair of underwear, you didn't figure they needed to be impressed with any lingerie, and you could see Tucker getting annoyed and ripping one of your nicer sets when it came to untying ribbons. Sitting on the bed now, you can see them through the window loading up their. They seem to be loudly arguing about something, and you can't help but laugh. Eventually, Bill comes up.

"Sorry, we forgot we had another job on the docket, I didn't wanna cancel but Tuck is being a real hard ass about all-" He stops when he sees you, in nothing but panties, sat on the bed with a slight smile. You're skin all soft and bare, pretty lights outside dimming as it grows closer from evening to night. "Geez, um, you look beautiful." He mumbles, closing the door behind him.

You tuck your knees under your chin and look at him. "Thanks, that's so sweet. So, you guys are gonna stick around, right?"

Snapping out of his, Bill clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, yeah, Tucker's on a call out there rescheduling." He taps his foot nervously.

"Well, get cozy. Cmon, take off your boots and hat, I'm sure you're tired from working." He obeys quickly, eager to please. He stops after removing his hat though, and you furrow your brows. "Its gonna be hard for us to have sex if the rest doesn't come off too, silly." You tease, but his slightly sad demeanor gives you pause. "Whats wrong?"

"I just, I don't really know if you'll like what you see. Most people think of handymen and folk as all muscular, and I've got some muscle, but I'm not really anyone bodybuilder by any means. And I'm not skinny like Tuck, I'm-" His head fully tilts to the floor. "I'm a big guy. I don't want that to bother you."

You immediately shake your head and move to the edge of the bed, holding out a hand. He shyly takes it in his own, and you run a comforting thumb over it. "Nothing is wrong with that, Bill. I think you look plenty handsome, you look soft, and sweet. And everyone has some pudge." You put his hand on your stomach. "See, I've got a bit of a tummy, and sometimes I don't like my legs, but do you think that makes me less attractive?" You ask.

"I don't think anything could make you not look pretty." He admits, moving his hand to your shoulder.

"I'll undress you, how about that?" He offers no resistance, so you slowly undo his flannel shirt, eyes trailing hungrily over his hair chest and slightly pudgy stomach. "Very handsome." You kiss his collarbone and he sighs. He works on getting his jeans and belt off, before sitting beside you on the bed.

"Can I touch ya? I mean, feel up on your chest and stuff?" He asks. When you nod, his large, callous hands come to rest over your breasts, extremely gentle in their movements. "They're gorgeous, really. And I meant what I said, as much as I love the way you look, and how kind you are, I never said no dirty things about you. It was all Tucker, he' a horn-dog."

"Some men are like that, unfortunately. Hes lucky I think it's flattering when it's him." You chuckle, making Billy laughs as well as he continues groping, a little more confident as he tweaks at a pebbled nipple.

"He's always been a jackass, but he's just trying to seem tough. He really likes you." Bill begins to explain. "Tucker isn't nearly as upfront with his feelins' as I am, but I can't tell he likes you. He don't always stick to making dirty jokes about one girl, but you've been all the talks about lately. And he always beats me to the phone for work now, he used to always make me answer, but I know he's hopin' you'll call." He's clearly packing, and the sight of his erection makes your mouth water in anticipation.

"Hey, Tell you what. Tucker might be a bit, and I'm sure he'll want to be inside me the moment he gets through the door-" Bill laughs at that. "So why don't we get you feeling good first so he can have a go." Sliding off the bed, you put a cheek on his knees, hand on his hairy inner thigh as he swallows.

"Geez, you can do that, b-but only if ya wanna. I lost the remote one day, and they had this talk show with all these ladies in-in suits, and they said that blowjobs were demeaning-"

Ignoring his continuous, (if not sweet), ramblings, you tug at his boxers until his thick, leaky cock springs loose. "Shit, nearly took my eye out." You say, trying to lighten the mood. He's thick, a bright red tip and a firm base. His balls are large, but he did admit he was backed up. He's absolutely huge, you have to admit you're worried he's a choking hazard.

"I'm gonna start slow, yeah? Just kiss the tip?" You ask, and the flushed redneck just nods his head, eyes wide as he's looking down at you. You place a soft kiss on the leaking tip, making him suck in a breath as you slowly take it into your mouth to the back of your tongue. What you can't fit in, you work with your hand.

"Shit, am I too big?!" He asks when he hears you making a sloppy gag, but you gently squeeze his thigh to calm him. You just want this poor big man to relax. Humming a bit, the lights vibration seems to soothe him. "Feels, god, your mouth feels really good, missy." His hands grip the pretty floral sheets of the bed which he had admired so many time when working on your house. "You're so pretty, um, with me in your mouth, but also- I mean, you're pretty all the time, ah~"

He can't decide what's actually getting him closer to climax, actually getting his cock sucked, or just seeing you on the floor in front of him, so lovingly tending to him. Each movement is deliberate, and to feel like you care so much to do this, and act which the educated women on the tv said was degrading, means you must really care. He threads a shakey hand in your scalp, but not to tug or push, but rather to gently pet at your scalp. He lets out a groan which ends high pitched, adjacent to a whimper.

"So pretty. You're so pretty, m' lucky. Lucky you wanna... lucky you are making me feel good, s-shit." You can feel his length twitching in your mouth. "I'm gonna finish, I know it's early, sorry, m' sorry, I gotta finish. Pull me out, can I-" he rambling. "Can I finish on your chest, or I can go finish off in the toilet, or-" You just give him one last good suck, and with a swirl of your tongue you can feel a thick, warm substance filling your mouth. "Shit! Why didn't you, I didn't mean to, uhh~ fuck..."

When you pull off, making a shoe of swallowing, you might as well have taken a puritan to a strip club. Bill looks as if it's the most scandalous thing he's ever seen. Petting his limp cock slightly with your palm, you lean your head on his knee. "Was that good for you?" You ask, and he nods.

He's clearly speechless, and can't bring himself to say much about how good he feels. "It was good." He mumbles out. Biting your lip, you sit by him on the bed, hoisting yourself up. Now, it's your turn to feel unsure.

"Are you sure? You don't seem confident about that." You mumble, hand rubbing your arm. "I haven't given one of those in a long, long time. I'm sorry if it wasn't good. Was it cause you couldn't cum on my chest, I-"

"No, no!" He exclaims. "No, it was perfect, I'm just tired. 'Tuckered' out." He jokes, then clears his throat. "That was dumb. But, that was amazing, really, m' just not good at fancy words n' stuff." Taking a deep breath, he rather boldly puts a hand on your cheek. "Can I kiss ya? I mean, least I could do. I wanna show you really how pretty and nice I think you are, and that feels more proper than getting down there and kissing you on your-" He trails off, flushing again. "Unless you'd like that, I'd do it. It's the least I could mmph-!"

You press your lips to his, and as soon as he stops tensing you feel a large, calloused hand cup your cheek, practically palming your head. He's so gentle, as if afraid to break you. When you eventually break for air, he almost chases your lips. "I-"

"What the fuck!" Tucker stands in the doorway, hands on his toolbelt and hat turned back. "I take one call and yer' already all limp dicked? Shit, Billy, horny little fucker."

"Leave him alone, Tucker." You tease, leaning on Bill's shoulder momentarily. "I offered it to him. Don't listen to him, you were great."

Billy just shyly smiles and kisses your head once more as Tucker dumps his toolbelt and wifebeater at the door. "You already got yer dick wet, Billy, so clear the fuck out. I'd let you watch, but you were a slippery snake and slipped her yer fucking snake when I was going first, so git." Tucker orders as he flops unceremoniously onto your bed and crawls up towards you. You blow a kiss to Billy as he smiles and shuts the door, hearing Tucker mumbling some stupid line about 'cleaning your pipes'.

A few minutes later though, he's ashamed. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, it's dirty. Wrong. But as he sits in your bathroom, wiring up a little camera identical to the ones now in your kitchen and closet, he can't help but remember what Tucker had told him, just before he went out to make that phone call.

"She's gonna let us fuck her, she's okay with us seeing everything in person! If anything, a cameras less invasive. Shit, just set em' up, yeah? We know this neighborhoods full of rich assholes, and her locks are shit. Think of it as keeping that hot little piece of suburbanite ass safe."

[leth-writes]

bait

SUMMARY: Damian would like to welcome you to the family.

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.

MASTERLIST: https://www.tumblr.com/leth-writes/757800060720496640/requests-open?source=share 

Requests are open!

Normally, Damian would hate being babied. He was a trained assassin, the blood of Ra’as Al Ghoul ran through his veins, he was the son of the feared Bat! And yet, here he was, sitting in your kitchen, watching you make him some (vegan) mac n’ cheese. 

Originally, Damian did not understand the obsession his family seemed to have with you. He spent days complaining, stomping around the manor, irritated that his family was wasting time with some… weakling. It seemed that every time he walked into a room, the only topic of discussion was you.

As one of the newer additions to the family, and a biological one at that, it seemed he had missed out on something vital to his family. So, he decided to just… ask, as his father would advise,  just why they were wasting time on someone who wouldn’t ever be able to adhere to the illustrious standards his family had set. 

The person he decided on was Grayson, someone he normally looked up to.

He sat across from his older brother, who was preoccupied with that insipid app that Drake had designed, keeping track of your vitals and ensuring your safety. Finally, fed up with being ignored, Damian cleared his throat to alert his brother of his presence.

Grayson looked up and beamed, bouncing up to flop down next to Damian. 

“What’s up, lil’ D?” Grayson asked, voice jovial even as he spared a glance at his screen.

“Tt. Grayson, I must… request your assistance.”

“Anything for you, lil’ D!” Grayson leaned over and rustled Damian’s hair. Damian, annoyed, fixed his hair and leaned away.

“I do not… I do not understand your recent… Preoccupation. It seems the family has decided, rather unanimously, that we will be gaining a new member. I do not understand why we must lower our standards!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

Grayson’s eyes softened. “Oh, lil’ D. It’s alright, you’re new, we should’ve known this would be confusing…” He looked away, staring out the window for a second, letting out a little sigh. 

“I’m not really sure how to explain it, but sometimes, sometimes people, especially people like us, get… passionate. Dinah likes to explain it away as the way we… deal with the constant loss, the uncertainty. Vigilantes don’t ever do anything in halves, afterall.”

“But why, but why them? They have nothing to add to our family, Grayson! They cannot fight, they are not trained, they have no extraordinary skills!” Damian huffed.

“Well, it doesn’t always make sense, Damian, and it doesn’t need to. Sometimes, sometimes people just… click, it doesn’t always have to make logical sense. I think if you got to know them, maybe you’d understand it a bit better.”

Grayson smiled, looking back at Damian. Damian looked away, blushing. He didn’t like not getting something; it made him feel vulnerable, weak, like he was missing out on something everyone else just seemed to get.

“And this is, this is… typical, for vigilantes such as our family?” He asked, voice quiet with mortification. Grayson smiled softly.

“Of course, Lil’ D. There’s nothing wrong with being passionate, and there’s no way we’re gonna let someone else get hurt. I mean, just think about it; do you think they could defend themselves?” 

Damian shook his head.

“And there’s no way they’ll be able to defend themselves. As vigilantes, especially in Gotham, we see the truth, we see how nasty the world can truly be. Most civilians just don’t get it. So, I think we can be forgiven for being a little intense, right?” He laughed, elbowing Damian gently.

“I mean, just think about Jon getting hurt.” 

Damian scowled. “I would not allow it. It would never happen.” He said, certainty clear in his voice.

Grayson snorted. “I know, Lil’ D. I’m just using him as an example; now take those feelings, and imagine if Jon couldn’t defend himself. “

“I-I do not know what I would do.”

“And that’s okay, you’ll get it eventually, okay? It’s hard to come to terms with, at first.”

“I still do not understand why you have chosen such an unworthy target for your affections, but I will… try. To understand.” Damian looked down, face tinged slightly red in embarrassment. 

Grayson ruffled his hair again, and peeked at his screen. “Maybe ask Cass to take you, or Jason? I have a shift in a little while. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you, Damian. It’s okay to have questions, to not get it. It’ll click eventually.”

So, Damian did.

While embarrassing, the idea of not getting something that was clearly of high importance to his family rankled in his chest. So, he approached Cain and asked for her help.

She was in her studio, as she normally was at noon on the weekends, working on a new routine. Damian paused in the door, waiting for her to finish up. No matter how many times he saw her, especially during her performances, he was always surprised by just how graceful the young woman managed to be.

It was normal for his family to move with a lithe grace, especially Grayson, who seemed to move so fluidly he lacked a skeletal structure, couldn’t compete with the natural poise Cain held herself with.

She finished up her routine with a flourish, then rose to her feet with a sigh. She floated over to her water bottle and took a sip, before turning around to face Damian. She smiled gently, eyes crinkling at the corners, her slightly damp choppy black hair framing her face perfectly.

“Little brother,” she said, delight clear in her voice. 

“Cain,” Damian greeted, nodding his head and moving into the room.

Cain sank to the floor, back against the mirrored wall, and patted the wooden floor next to her. 

“Sit,” she said.

He did. There was no refusing Cain, after all.

“You seem… confused.” She glanced over at him, taking another small sip.

“Yes. I do not… Understand the new obsession you have all taken with that Civilian.”

Cain nodded. “Yes.”

“Grayson explained the general feelings of protectiveness, but was unable to elaborate; why them?” Damian crinkled his face, nose scrunching.

Cain laughed. “Stubborn, not seeing.” She poked his forehead, startling him. He scowled further, rubbing the spot. It didn’t really hurt, but he was not about to let her get away with poking him like a child!

She snickered at his bewildered expression. 

“It is hard to explain… Instinct.” She hummed, looking away in contemplation.

“Innocence. They do not know… the violence, the heartache… they are kind.”

So it was about the contrast, Damian concluded. The difference between a trained vigilante and a weakling.

“They cannot… protect self. Need help. Like baby.” She continued, sighing and leaning a hand against her cheek, propped against her knees.

“Like… Like Titus, or Alfred the cat. Need looking after.”

Just like that, it clicked.

You were utterly defenseless. Completely alone, with no one to prevent you from being hurt, or worse, killed. You were like a young kitten, unable to open their eyes to see their savior, like the one Damian had fostered.

A warmth bloomed in his chest. You would be like the kitten, and he would protect your innocence, no matter the cost.

Cass smiled widely, scrunching her nose. 

Just like that, Damian was clamoring to get involved. He could not wait until you were home, and he would be able to ensure your safety, keeping you from losing that childlike innocence, that thin film over your eyes preventing you from seeing the true danger.

It was Drake who had the brilliant idea to place Damian in the field; Damian, for all of his sword-related faults, was still young, after all. Someone as naive as you would be sure to enjoy looking after such a cute child, not being able to see who was truly caring for who.

While both Grayson and Todd had failed to make your acquaintance, it seemed you were too aware of stranger danger to fully fall for the ruse, he knew Cain had made inroads as a member of your book club. Surely, having a young brother by her side would only make it easier to get closer to you.

And just like that, the trap was set, and Damian was ready to act.

The next week, your book club would be meeting to discuss the selected offerings. You had wisely offered up Pride and Prejudice. Damian could still hear the muffled curses Todd had let out; you had no clue the extent to which you had so thoroughly endeared yourself to him, just by picking an Austen novel. Damian could not help but be amused, Todd was easy to enthrall despite his tough exterior; it was almost comical. 

Cain had brought him with, dressed in clothes he was told were appropriate for his age (Grayson had laughed and forced him to stand for pictures. He would secure his revenge, and make sure to talk badly about him. He would be victorious in the so-called prank war, after all, and you would stand at his side, unscathed.).

You opened the door, smiling and bringing Cain in for a hug. Even from his position, he could see Cain melt into the hug, smiling and bringing an arm up to pat your back gently.

“Hello,” she sighed as you pulled back, looking her over.

“Oh, Hello!” you said, looking down at Damian. 

He sighed internally. It would take everything he had, but the thoughts of showing you Bat-Cow would get him through the evening. He smiled brightly, artificially pitching his voice up slightly.

“Hi!” He said, stepping forward and shaking your hand with vigor. “I’m Cass’s brother, Damian!”

“Oh, so you have a brother?” You said, smiling even brighter. It almost hurt Damian’s face in sympathy, how widely you were able to smile. Was it due to your innocence?

You ushered the two of them inside.

“Yes, Our father forgot Damian would be home tonight, and did not arrange for a babysitter.”

“Oh, that’s more than alright! Here, are you hungry, kiddo? I’ll make you something to snack on while the book club gets going! Cass, you can take a seat if you want.”

Damian watched as you puttered around the kitchen, enamored with the way you seemed completely oblivious to the danger present in your home. You were lucky he was there to protect you; what if Cass hadn’t been a kind person? You would’ve had no idea you were letting a threat into your house, and into your life! Luckily for you, Cass would never harm a hair on your head, let alone let you get hurt.

“Milk okay for the Mac n’ cheese, kiddo?” You asked, not bothering to turn around as you pulled down a box.

He informed you he was vegan.

You took it in stride, pulling out some soy milk. He was almost surprised you would have some, but your clear kindness would never allow you to potentially offend a guest. Damian could feel a bout of cuteness aggression overtaking him, and he clenched his fists hard enough to draw blood under the lip of the counter.

The rest of the night passed without incident, though you seemed particularly interested in Damian’s contributions to the conversation about Austen’s works. He could not help but be satisfied at the impression he had made; it was not his fault the majority of the people you surrounded with could not understand basic literary analysis, after all.

Every week for the next few months, Damian would tag along to book club; he eventually managed to become your favorite conversational partner, though Cain was a close second, as you slowly began to ignore the others in the club. It was better this way, after all; they could not protect you.

However, Damian soon became frustrated by the lack of progress. They were talking to you regularly, yes, but he wanted you safe at home! He could tell the others were building in frustration as well, and yet the consensus remained; they would need to take more time.

So, he approached Todd.

And Todd agreed.

The plan was set.

Damian waited breathlessly in the alley by your workplace. It would be easy, after all, to get you to follow him down into the dark.

The second he saw you, he took a few wide steps back, and began to scream.

“Help!” He shouted, crumpling to the floor. He let his voice take on a tinge of desperation, pitching slightly higher to exaggerate his innocence and hopefully trigger your panic so you would approach without a second thought.

It worked, and your pounding footsteps soon approached.

“Hello?!” You called, frantically dropping to your knees in front of his crumpled form.

“D-Damian?” You cried, searching desperately for the injury.

Behind you, he could see Todd approach, syringe in hand. 

He let out a groan and rolled over, head in your lap. As you ran your hands over his back, looking for something, he surreptitiously grabbed your waist, hoping to prevent you from running, just in case.

Finally, Todd was in range. He stuck the syringe into your neck without a second thought, and you were out like a light.

Damian was just glad your hand had landed in his hair.

[suzukiblu]

Day ten of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I mean–it’s nice,” Kon says, smiling just as helplessly into his collar and keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as they walk. “Just, you know, it’s not the kinda stuff you usually get me. Like–it’s just, you know–pretty, or whatever. It’s not for anything. Like, I can’t wear it for you and it’s not, you know, food or a game or anything.” 

Tim did not actually realize that he hadn't bought Kon anything that didn't count as “useful” yet, though given the video games and candy and jewelry he's pretty sure they just have different definitions of what “useful” actually is. Also he needs to take a moment to not burn alive over Kon saying the phrase “wear it for you” again, which definitely takes the full moment, because Jesus Christ. 

That has not gotten any less affecting, yeah. 

“Oh, I guess,” he says in his best imitation of a normal person's normal voice. “I didn't really think about that. I just thought you might like it, so I got it for you.” 

Kon somehow finds a new shade of red to turn that honestly might actually be a Kryptonian-related one, considering the intensity of it. It is, unfortunately, cute as fuck. 

“I mean, I do like buying you clothes and stuff, obviously. You look really nice in that outfit, for one,” Tim says, and Kon glances away again, still smiling helplessly and still just as red-faced. He really does blush so easy. It’s weird, Tim thinks, given how much flirting he does. But maybe Kon’s just the “can dish it out but can’t take it” type, he guesses. 

Alternately, maybe people just aren’t complimenting him as often as he deserves and he's not used to hearing it. 

. . . Tim makes a mental note to pencil in some affirmations in Young Justice’s next training session and also to buy Kon even more flowers than he was already planning to. Flowers that come with little hand-written cards that say nice things about him, specifically. 

“You better think I look nice in it, pretty boy,” Kon says, biting his lip around another grin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me all fancied up.” 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked the crop top too,” Tim allows, and Kon bursts into laughter and then lets go of his jacket collar and just–beams at him, actually. Just–literally actually beams, brighter than anything in Gotham that doesn’t run on electricity. 

Tim manages not to step off the sidewalk into traffic by Robin-reflexes alone and literally nothing else. 

Jesus, that expression. 

“I like, uh–that,” Kon says, and then blushes a little darker again. “Um–I mean, I like that you, uh . . . like to get me stuff you think I look good in. Uh. I don’t know how to say this without it sounding weird, fuck, just–just I like it.” 

“Oh,” Tim says. The warehouse district in his brain is a lost cause; the fire has officially spread to the docks and across downtown. His mental Gotham is going the way of 1871 Chicago, he’s pretty sure. “Uh–um, good. I’m glad.” 

“It’s just, um–I dunno, it’s just nice to look nice for somebody,” Kon murmurs a little bit shyly, tugging his jacket collar up over his mouth again but still obviously smiling behind it. Tim isn’t sure if that’s a line of thought he should be concerned by after the kind of things Kon was saying earlier, if–“Instead of, you know. For everybody.” 

. . . Tim decides that actually, never mind the concern. Kon can look as good for him as he wants to, if what Kon’s used to is being stuck having to look good for some stupid ad campaign or magazine shoot or what the frick ever. And like–it’s not like he has a problem with Kon wanting to wear things he thinks he’ll like. That is pretty much the opposite of a problem for him, in fact. 

It probably explains the makeup, too. There were definitely not any ad campaigns with glitter eyeliner or nail polish involved. 

. . . not that Tim’s seen all the ad campaigns or anything, just–

Alright, fine, he’s seen all the ad campaigns. That’s just Bat SOP, alright? And definitely only Bat SOP.

[aerospectrum]

“I think Cas is already happy with you; I know you make him happy. but what about you, are you happy?” Chuck asked. “I think she ignored him a lot and he withdrew into himself. When I asked if he was happy with her he insisted he was.” Chuck explained without sharing too much, not entirely positive what Cas had told her and not wanting to cause uncomfortable conversations later.

“I think he wants to know he can keep you safe from things he can’t control but he means well… I didn’t see that with Kristen. He was always quiet and waited for the ok from her.” He looked at Madison then pulled a seat at the small kitchen table out for her to sit. “when you say she treated him poorly.” Chuck answered, thinking Castiel had told him the extent. “Is there more I should’ve known about?”

Cas wondered what Lucifer would have to say once they were alone. Halfway off the porch steps Lucifer paused and looked at kris; Cas went down fast on one knee. “what the fuck was that for!?” He groaned out, doubled over himself, dropping one hand to balance himself on the pavement. It took him a second to recover from the way his lungs constricted and his stomach imploded on itself. He didn’t want to lean up and drop his other hand- he didn’t even want to attempt to stand just yet. Fuck.

“It’s pathetic really. How everyone else doesn’t see it- the whole picture, the real you.” He seemed enraged, but so eerily calm. He yanked Cas’ other arm away and with a second kick to the groin Kris decided she was satisfied which meant Lucifer was too.

Lucifer and Kris both returned to the kitchen in half the time Lucifer had given her and obviously without Castiel-- left out to sit on the front steps. Or so they thought. Their expressions were cheery and vibrant… content. Until Kristen set her eyes on Madison and lost it. She pulled her arm back and like a slingshot— the loud smack of skin on skin reverberated in the room and she raised her other hand to wind up and smack Madison again; the air whistling sharp with speed.

“Next time maybe you won’t be such a who-!” Her words were immediately silenced, a look of wide eyed anger and confusion then shock when she realized Cas was grabbing her arm so tight she thought he might snap the bone in two. “Get your fucking hands off me you— you…” her words floundered and her face burned red— surprisingly no flames engulfed her yet.

“if you ever touch her again. I’ll kill you.” Cas threatened. His voice was too calm, his grip unrelenting even as she yanked and tugged- hissing and spitting like a cat with its paw stuck in a trap. His eyes were focused on her, then to Chuck who was telling him to let go, to let go he’d get Kristen out of there just let go. His eyes raced from Chuck to Madison, to Kristen to Lucifer back to Chuck, back to Madison. But he couldn’t let go— he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let her hurt Madison again. He couldn’t. He didn’t protect Madison like he was supposed to..

Kristen had gotten to her before he could get back inside and the ferocity of his rage wouldn’t let him see clearly. His grip tightened and Kristen yelped in pain. His blue eyes dulled, washed out by a memory of a body on the kitchen floor, a gun in his hands… his brothers with hands over their ears staring at him. Chuck was still pleading for Cas to let her go while Gabe was trying to hold off Lucifer. Balthazar stood there unsure what to do; strike up the worlds most awkward conversation with Madison or just watch it all go down in flames?

Finally Cas let her wrist go and she laid down a barrage of close fisted hits against him; but it was like he didn’t feel a single one. His eyes stayed locked on Madison and he wasn’t sure when it happened but Lucifer was wringing out a cool towel and bringing it back to Madison for her face. Kristen was nowhere to be found— they were in the living room, sitting on couches- everyone was talking even the tv was on, Chuck was pacing, kneeling in front of Madison to ask her how she was and what she needed or what she wanted him to do, did she want the police or want to go to a doctor, maybe he was overboard but he didn’t expect his house to become a zoo— and Cas couldn’t hear a thing.

Madison could only purse her lips in guilt & avert her eyes. Even though she was guilty, her index hooked onto cas’ in a comforting way. Madison gave him a little side eye & a wink.

“It’s really up to cas. I don’t mind staying, but I know he’s working on a few projects. I don’t know how late he wants to be out.” She gave his hand a squeeze to comfort him. If he needed her to lie for him, she would. All he had to do was say the word.

There was a pause before Madison smiled, “oh I’d love to come over & spend some time w/ you. I could talk about work all day, you’d have to pay me to shut up.” A small laugh left her & she leaned her head on cas’ shoulder.

Lucifer asked to take her cas away & Madison defensively clutched him. She didn’t want cas going anywhere w/ them. Certainly not near Kris. But he reluctantly left the room leaving Madison to Gabriel & chuck. “So… be honest. I can take it… did you guys ever like Kris for cas? Do you think…. He can be happy w/ me?”

She peeked over her shoulder making sure no one was near. “Did anyone know how bad she treated him?”

[nam-the-nacho]

Mit2uba's Trauma: An Analogy

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Tw: I will be discussing the abuse Mitsuba has suffered from his environment, nothing that isn't in the manga, but I want to give a heads up. Additionally, I'm fortunate to have not gone though any severe traumatic experience myself, and am instead using my general knowledge, meaning if anything is incorrect here, please point it out!

(Also manga spoilers obviously)

I'm not pretending this hasn't ever been discussed, however I have yet to see an analogy of the consequences of Mitsuba's creation and (practically nonexistent) upbringing.

I'm going to divide this post into sections, but they won't really be organized, maybe chapters is a better definition. This thing is l o n g, so without further ado:

1: Mitsuba being paralleled to a puppet:

This is done quite often, although not in the same ways. Besides the psychological aspects of being Tsukasa's "puppet", as in being forced to do as he says and overall being under his control, but there are physical correlations too.

Tsukasa referring to Mitsuba as a "Thing"

Mitsuba lets Tsukasa hold him. This is much more then a surface-level fact considering Mitsuba usually rejects contact/uses it as an excuse to blame others. This is easily explained by "Mitsuba is simply scared of Tsukasa, he can't tell him no", except Mitsuba doesn't look scared when being held, he just looks, expressionless.

More then that, he completely trusts Tsukasa with his body weight, leaning into his touch and allowing himself to be comforted by it. This obviously occasionally backfires horribly

While Mitsuba being punched is framed in a humorous manner, the implications and weight of it are very heavy. It's all fun and games until you remember this is how Mitsuba is being raised, and it's all he's ever known. If Mitsuba doesn't want to do what Tsukasa tells him too, he gets punched. If he talks back, he gets kicked out of the broadcasting room (we'll get back to this later). If he asks to be Tsukasa's friend, he gets fireworks shoved down his mouth.

And the results of this... well:

This one in particular is interesting to me:

"It's just Mitsuba being surprised because Kou suddenly raised his voice". But that's not what's being illustrated. Upon hearing "brace yourself" even from someone like Kou, who wasn't planning on actively trying to hurt Mitsuba, he literally stiffens, pales, and begins to tremble and sweat, dropping the piece of chalk he was holding (those things break way to easily, yk he was serious). It's not shock or surprise being drawn, it's just genuine fear.

This could very well be me overthinking, but Mitsuba falls in what is almost a doll-like manner, arms and legs completely stiff.

2: Social rejection and trivial treatment:

The Mitsuba chapter (ch. 40) was worse then I remembered.

Mitsuba runs away from the broadcasting room in search of a better, safer place to stay. Only to understand he has none.

What's worse is that these are the characters we see being far kinder to the rest of the cast. We see Yako, Hanako and weirdo super-natural teacher together in his living quarters, watching tv together, but when Mitsuba approaches them...

(Tsuchigomori eventually does stay with him, but his opinion of him doesn't really change.)

"This guy's a pain, I'm out of here"

Tsuchigomori doesn't know Mitsuba, the only time we see them meet was when Tsuchigomori refers to him as emergency rations (above), and when he answered Mitsuba who asked him a question (answer starting with "You seriously don't know?" (YES SIR HOW WOULD HE KNOW HE'S LIKE ONE MONTH OLD)).

He probably heard he's a prankster from Hanako, which is why he wants nothing to do with him.

The point is despite Mitsuba needing to run from the closest thing he considers a "home", not a single supernatural actually understands his situation. Hanako borderline hates him, Nene barley understands he's a different Mitsuba, and Kou tends to accidently frame it as Mitsuba's CHOICE to stay with Tsukasa in the broadcasting room.

This is sadly something that can happen in reality, children trying to escape their less-desirable homes can often find themselves, sickeningly, returning after not finding somewhere or someone to take them seriously.

The most deranged part of this is that as a result of nobody properly digesting that he needs help, Mitsuba himself frequently convinces himself that everything is normal.

The implication that every time Mitsuba fights with Tsukasa he needs to just fend for himself until enough time has passed for Tsukasa to forget is sad. He's an outcast between the wonders for replacing the old No.3, despite his only other choice being death, which they don't know.

Sakura is probably the closest thing Mitsuba has to family, being in a similar situation to him, but it's incorrect to say she truly deeply cares about him. She's fond of Mitsuba, but never goes out of her way to help him when Tsukasa hurts him, and seems to have put her personal safety and goals as a higher priority then him (this isn't Sakura slander, I love my queen).

Natsuhiko treats him like a pet more then a human, and sometimes hits on him, which is just gross. Despite this Mitsuba genuinely appreciates him and sees him as an older brother. It's cruel to see this one-sided ordeal.

We don't actually know Mitsuba's true opinion of Tsukasa. In an almost realistic manner, his opinion is constantly contradictory. Mitsuba is scared of Tsukasa, but at the same time he only feels 'safe' when he's around.

Also, contrary to Sousuke, Mitsuba is more scared of Tsukasa then thunder, which could either mean that Sousuke's phobia of thunder was memory-correlated, or that Mitsuba is SO scared of Tsukasa that thunder is nothing in comparison.

Mitsuba freezing after hearing Tsukasa's voice

vs:

We know Mitsuba is aware that Tsukasa is not treating him okay, but by the time we learn this (pp arc), Mitsuba has half convinced himself that Tsukasa is doing everything he's doing to help him, and that "nobody else can help him anyways". Genuinely Mitsuba is one of the most subtle-yet-obvious victims portrayed in media I've even seen.

3: Ok-yeah-that's-not-okay moments

Do I really need to add anything.

I will anyways. Mitsuba is a dramatic by nature, unrelated to any of the emotional damage he's suffered. The fact that Tsukasa can make him stop crying just by demanding it really shows how bad he messed up Mitsuba. The ability to stop crying on command out of fear..... somebody save him.

Stay away!

Can't add to many pictures because of the tumbler limitations, but in every one of these scenes Mitsuba totally freezes, only regaining control and suddenly snapping once someone (aka Kou) does anything intimidating to him.

Going in-depth about the similarities between Kou and Tsukasa is an entirely different ordeal, but in short summery:

There's a carefully built connection between Tsukasa and Kou, that deserves a post of it's own.

4: Symptoms of trauma:

Trust issues are heavily associated with a problematic childhood, so it's not very surprising that Mitsuba struggles to trust anyone besides Tsukasa, even if he doesn't want to.

Very commonly appearing alongside trauma, self destructive behaviors are a tragically common coping habit. I don't think I need to add any pictures for this one, as practically every other sentence Mitsuba says have some 'Just let me pass away' coding to it.

Lack of memories is a symptom that appears in very severe cases, and while it isn't completely accurate to Mitsuba it's an interesting addition considering Mitsuba has no memories.

5: Character design:

Mitsuba has lots of chains and locks in his wonder form, a lock on his neck (which has multiple interpretations), one preventing his heart from beating, which could be a clever metaphor for Mitsuba further constricting his humanity by "choosing" to become a wonder, but most interesting:

What looks to be the remains of a leg shackle.

Mitsuba in a box labeled as fragile.

6: This definitely isn't symbolism for an eating disorder:

"I'm always hungry, no matter how much I eat" -M

"You starved yourself from all this moping around, just because you didn't want to eat something different?" -K

Can we talk about how the fandom collectively just skipped over the huge reveal that Mitsuba STARVES HIMSELF. Because I feel like that really wasn't talked about. As if this guy doesn't have enough going on, he now has to deal with constant starvation, dehumanization at new never-seen-before-pace, and the loss of his will to exist in the first place.

He is both metaphorically and physically falling apart, constantly in physical pain. When he isn't in physical pain it's because he's experiencing gut-wrenching psychological torment as he can't stop eating live beings. I don't blame this guy.

The only person who knew of this was Tsukasa, until he "told" Kou. Told is in quotation marks because it was never really Mitsuba trusting Kou enough to open up about the hell he's enduring, as mentioned before Mitsuba doesn't exactly know how to trust. The fact was forced out of him due to a dire situation, but Kou could not have reacted in a worse way:

Pro tip: If your reaction to learning that your best buddy is suffering from a complicated relationship with food, is shoving said food into their mouth violently, you might need therapy just as much as they do.

Kou is still unaware that Mitsuba's diet contains living things too, but if we're being honest that doesn't really put Kou in the right here. Like, man, I know you're freaking out because your friend just asked you to end him, but please take out your anger on something that isn't him.

And don't act surprised when this is his reaction:

This is arguably the a result of post traumatic stress disorder. Mitsuba didn't just escape, he hid in the nearest corner, making himself as small as possible, hid his head and trembled. The reason I'm calling this out as PTSD is because the only other time he panicked like this was right after Tsukasa shoved the bird heart down his throat.

So for both situations it's:

Tsukasa force feeds Mitsuba -> Mitsuba loses control (starts attacking everything)

Kou force feeds Mitsuba -> Mitsuba bites Kou

And the results are the same. He reacted the same way because mentally it was the same situation to him, It doesn't matter what the intentions were, Kou triggered an event(s (considering he's eaten multiple supernatural and is absolutely repulsed by it)) that Mitsuba had no intention of revisiting.

Summery:

Mitsuba's trauma is often overshadowed by more obvious displays of mental scarring, like with the Yugi twins and Kou, and is often represented with irony or humor, including by the creators themselves.

Even without everything he's gone though, Mitsuba was always a hopeless character. He just existed one day. He doesn't have anything, anyone. He's never been told he's loved, he's never felt sunlight, he never got to play, he's never had anyone tuck him into bed, or read him a story. He was robbed of his childhood, and any connections besides the few who remember him for someone that he isn't.

He doesn't even know what snow is, yet he knows how blood tastes like

This entire post wasn't even scratching the tip of the iceberg in terms of how much grave emotional turmoil Mitsuba has faced. And will face. Yeah I don't know how well his trust issues will cope with Natsuhiko leaving him to die. If he lives.

The idea of this long rant was to point out that Mitsuba's trauma and mental struggles are just as, if not more, relevant then his physical ones. And they do affect him, and they do have consequences. And they will most certainly come back 20x worse later on in the plot. I would say to prepare mentally, but I know tbhk fans can handle just about anything.

Thank you for reading!

ヾ(≧▽≦*)

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[alooseknot]

Satoru and Suguru, but through Megumi’s eyes?

I’ve thought about this a lot lately, let me explain:

“I.

Megumi is 7, and he wakes up from the same nightmare for the third night in a row. He plods along the hallway, his arms wrapped firmly around his middle, and reaches up to turn the knob on Satoru and Suguru’s door.

The darkness of the room seems to seep out into the hall as he takes a few timid steps into the room. He’s noticed immediately, of course, by the two men in the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asks immediately, his voice slurred with sleep. Megumi can see him looking at him as his eyes adjust to the low light. Of course, Satoru’s eyes don’t need to adjust, so he knew it was him. He also sees Suguru, who had initially startled awake as well, lie back down, almost immediately asleep.

“Can I sleep here?” Megumi asks, whispering.

Satoru pats the bed next to him, scooting over to let Megumi settle in the middle. Megumi crawls into the bed without another word.

Satoru curls on his side, facing him, and stretches an arm out above Megumi’s head. He ruffles a hand through Megumi’s hair, then buries his hand into Suguru’s hair.

Megumi’s eyelids finally grow heavy again in the warm, safe darkness surrounding him, and he falls asleep to the sound of their even breathing.

II.

Megumi is 10, and he hears the front door open and the door to the hallway bathroom slam. He’s sitting in front of the living room TV playing video games, and he turns around to see Satoru hanging up his keys. He smiles softly at Megumi. Suguru must have been the door-slammer, then.

Megumi hears retching from behind the bathroom door. He stands up to go check, to help. Satoru shakes his head no—not unkindly, but definitively. “I know you’re worried, but he’s okay. Just a hard mission. I’m going to go help, okay? Just giving him a second. Everyone needs a second sometimes, yeah?” Satoru fills the electric tea kettle with water and flicks it on.

“If you really want to help, you can fill this mug up with water when the kettle beeps. Not all the way to the top, just most of the way,” Satoru says, taking a mug down from the cabinet and slicing up a chunk of ginger, throwing the slices into the mug.

Then, he walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

Megumi stands by the kettle, taking his post seriously, waiting patiently for it to beep.

III.

Megumi is 15, and he isn’t supposed to be home yet.

He rounds the corner next to his bedroom door when he hears them.

“He loves him, Sugu. And I don’t—I don’t know—I mean, can I save him?” Satoru gasps, clearly crying.

“I know. Breathe. This isn’t your fault, you’re doing what you can. You always do,” Suguru murmurs in response, and Megumi hears the bed creak as he shifts his position.

“Megumi will never forgive me if I have to kill Yuji. Never, Suguru,” Satoru’s sobs are muffled now, likely against Suguru’s chest.

“Satoru, let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. Hell, if we get to it. You don’t know that it’ll ever be relevant,” Suguru’s voice is soothing, softer than Megumi is used to hearing it.

Satoru doesn’t respond, and the next thing Megumi hears is Suguru’s gentle plea : “You have to breathe, Toru, come on, count with me.”

He walks away from the door.

IV.

Megumi is 16, and he isn’t sure what woke him. His phone screen tells him it’s 1:27 a.m. Maybe Satoru finally made it home from his mission.

He ambles out of his bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, just to make sure.

He hears hushed voices before he rounds the corner to the living room. Unsure why anyone would be up that isn’t Satoru, who likely wouldn’t be talking to himself, Megumi is suddenly on alert. He slides his back against the wall, peering around the corner to see who’s there.

It’s Suguru.

He exhales.

After seeing Suguru’s face, however, he feels like his sigh of relief may have been premature.

“Do you want to take a shower, maybe?” Suguru murmurs, standing in front of Satoru where he sits on the couch, pulling off his boots. Satoru places the shoes next to the couch and lets his forehead fall against Suguru’s abdomen. Suguru is quick to wrap a hand around his head, threading his fingers through the hair that isn’t matted down under his blindfold.

“I just want to sleep,” Satoru sighs, and Megumi immediately notices how weary he sounds. His clothing is, as usual, clean and untouched, a byproduct of Infinity, but wherever he’d been had clearly taken a toll on him. Suguru massages Satoru’s head at the temples.

“Come on, I’ll turn off the lights and start the water,” Suguru whispers.

Satoru nods, inhaling shakily.

“Hey, I’ve got you,” Suguru breathes, sitting down on his heels to rest his forehead against Satoru’s.

Megumi, suddenly feeling the weight of his intrusion, creeps back to his room as quietly as possible.

V.

Megumi is 17, and he hears Satoru and Suguru arguing in the kitchen. He pulls out a headphone to listen, pausing the music he’d been listening to while doing homework on the living room floor.

“I just don’t feel like it, Satoru. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”

“No, because you never ‘feel like it’ anymore! You’d think I was asking you for a miracle, not to literally just go out for the evening.”

“Well, you never ‘feel like’ doing anything I want to do either. When’s the last time you sat and read a book with me, huh?”

“That’s different, Suguru, I’ve never done that. You know what I’m saying, and you’re purposefully ignoring it.”

Suguru doesn’t reply.

“Things are bad again, aren’t they?”

Suguru still doesn’t reply.

“Please talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk. I just want to sleep. You go out. Invite Shoko; she’ll appreciate it.”

“I want to help you, you asshole. Stop pushing me away.”

“I don’t want your help, Satoru.”

Satoru laughs harshly at this.

“Yeah, well, you sure as fuck need it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you! Are you kidding me? You’re just content to rot, going to work and then coming home and sleeping your life away? Or some other fucking mindless activity? It’s not normal, Suguru. It’s not healthy. And I’m not just going to sit by and watch you do it.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Suguru raises his voice, which catches Megumi off guard. He never yells.

“Nothing about this is normal, Satoru. My life, our lives, me. I’m not normal. Do you think I like this? Feeling fucking hopeless, not having the energy to do anything, fucking sitting on the floor in the shower because it’s too much to stand—“

“—Suguru, listen—“

“—Don’t interrupt me.”

They are silent for a few long moments.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru says, raggedly.

“No, I’m sorry, I said I wanted to help and I’m definitely not helping,” Satoru sighs.

“I—Satoru, I—“ Suguru tries, then stops.

“Things are bad again,” Suguru settles on, his voice breaking.

Megumi doesn’t hear Satoru reply, just the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

Satoru only speaks when Suguru starts crying.

Whatever Satoru says to him is too soft for Megumi to hear.

[pepperonijem]

iii. tell me your favorite love song || to.you

"i wanna sing it with you."

summary: Council meeting! It's time for you to reminisce on failed dates and first confessions with Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and Jean! pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader content: cursing, floch slander lol songs mentioned: completely - jaehyun

A/N: this chapter is definitely more filler, but I had to split it up because it was hitting well over 10k words for one chapter lol.

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! comments and rb's are appreciated :)

previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter

“Did you… Did you write that yourself?”

The last note from the piano seemed to echo through the room for a while before Levi finally turned to look at you.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly. “Just finished it last night actually.” Levi looked down at the piano keys as his fingers ghosted over them, touching them with enough pressure to push down but not make a sound. “What did you think of it?” he asked. He seemed more vulnerable than you had seen him before, like you were seeing him in a way he wasn’t even used to seeing himself.

“It’s really good,” you answered. You weren’t really sure what else to say. It was good, it felt personal, like something more than just a catchy song. He had used your words, that had to mean something, but you weren’t sure what. “Was that part about the coffee–”

“From you?” Levi interrupted. Although he was looking away from you, you could see his ears turn pink. “Yeah, it was. I’m glad you noticed.”

You felt something flutter away at your chest. “I’m glad I could help you out,” you replied. If he wasn’t going to say anything more than that, then you would just take it for what it was. Levi nodded but didn’t reply. “I’m really flattered that I got to hear it first.”

Levi finally looked up at you. “Of course,” his head tilted. “Who else would I play it for?” As if it was the most obvious thing.

You’re sure your eyes widened in surprise and your cheeks definitely went pink, because almost immediately, Levi coughed and added, “You helped me write it so obviously you’d hear it first.” Right. That’s all. He was just offering something in return.

“Oh,” you began. Not sure if the sigh that escaped your lips was relief or disappointment. “Well if you ever need to write another song, you know where to find me. Though maybe I should start charging.” You hoped your tone was as light and playful as you intended it to be.

Levi let out a soft chuckle as he shook his head. Good. “Name your price.” 

Before you could add on, his phone buzzed against the wood of the piano before he reached out to check it.

“It’s Hange,” he explained. “Apparently we have band practice in 20.” He pocketed his phone before turning back to you with an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you around?”

His eyes seemed to twinkle under the fluorescents of the practice room and you felt your heart thud against your chest. He smiled. “See you around.”

Levi left right after that, and you found yourself stuck in the room thinking about his song. Your fingers pressed against some of the keys that you remember him playing, as if looking for a code to see what he was thinking. It felt… electric, to have something, not quite a secret, between the two of you. You couldn’t help but imagine him singing it on stage, no one else knowing that a little bit of you existed in the lyrics of his song. 

You found yourself wishing that you could hear him sing your song — the song about yo– the song he wrote that just so happened to include your words and seemed to describe exactly how you were feeling about him – again. Maybe he’d say it was for you.

Maybe he’d say it was how he felt about you too.

Later that night, you found yourself at Eren and Mikasa’s place, laying on their sofa with your head in Mikasa’s lap. You had sent out a text to your group chat, in desperate need of more minds on the case. A knock sounded on the door and Eren stood up to answer the door. You heard him groan immediately as it swung open.

“Why the hell are you here?” Eren spoke. It was immediately obvious from his lack of enthusiasm that he was not speaking to Armin.

You heard Armin’s voice reply. “I heard this was a council meeting,” he explained nonchalantly as he walked in with two boxes of pizza and a smug looking Jean behind him. “I saw Jean on my way here and figured he could be helpful.” The two of them smiled and waved as they walked into the living room and set the pizzas down on the coffee table.

“I don’t let strays into my place, Armin,” Eren huffed as he shut the door behind him, letting Jean into his place anyway.

Mikasa rolled her eyes and you chuckled as she chastised Eren. “Whatever, babe,” you felt her chuckle. “Just last week you pulled over in the parking garage and caused a 15 minute traffic jam because you stopped to pick up a lost cat.”

Eren’s cheeks reddened as he relented. Pouty as he was, he could never say no to Mikasa. Walking over, he lifted your legs as he sat down next to her before letting you rest them in his lap. “You didn’t need to announce it,” he whined as Mikasa leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Anyway,” Armin chuckled, moving to sit beside Jean against the coffee table and facing the three of you. “We haven’t called a council meeting like this since Eren went through his emo phase.” Armin looked over at Jean as he explained.

“You would have an emo phase,” Jean sneered at Eren.

“You probably had one too, dickhead.” Eren countered.

“Yeah, if you count Justin Bieber as emo,” Jean rolled his eyes.

“Jean…” Armin began softly. “That’s… that’s not any better.” Armin patted his back as Jean looked away in embarrassment. Everyone laughed lightheartedly at that, even Jean… eventually.

“Okay,” you began, drawing out the last syllable. “Now that we’ve determined that Eren and Jean are both dorks, we can get to the problem at hand.”

“Hey!” Eren and Jean both shouted in offense. 

You sat up and reached for a slice of pizza before you continued. You weren’t particularly sure of how to approach the subject, but you also knew that after five seconds of silence, Eren would begin prodding at you. Maybe it was like ripping off a bandaid?

“I think Levi likes me.”

The silence was deafening. You weren’t really sure what to expect, but silence from everyone, especially Eren, was not it. Mikasa, definitely. Armin, maybe, he liked to think before he responded. Jean, from what you’d come to know, tended to hold off on offering advice until he heard others’ perspectives. Eren, however, was always one to speak whatever was in his mind, to refine his thoughts aloud.

“Did you all hear me? I said–”

“No, we heard you the first time,” Eren said, still staring at you with wide eyes. “Levi? Like 5’3” lead singer of No Name that looks like he wants to beat my ass every 10 minutes, Levi?”

You nodded back. Looking around the room, everyone seemed to be in a similar state of shock. Mikasa was resting her chin on a closed fist and her eyes were full of intrigue. Armin had a brow raised quizzingly, and Jean’s mouth was wide open until something settled in his brain and his lips pressed together in a smirk.

“I totally called it,” Jean beamed. “Didn’t I tell you he was singing right at you that one night?” 

You recalled Jean’s words from the first Halloween party you saw Levi at and you nodded. Levi did seem to have his eye on you that time.

“Nope, no, no,” Eren stood up. There was the Eren you knew. You sat up as well.“Levi doesn’t sing to people, he just sings and then glares from the stage. He glares at everyone.”

Eren also had a point. You’d known Levi to be exceptionally grouchy, and to make no exceptions for who he glares at. Maybe he was glaring at you for dancing with Jean, who he didn’t seem too fond of.

“What makes you think he likes you?” Armin asked curiously.

“I… He wrote a song about me?” you offered sheepishly as Eren’s eyes somehow got wider.

“He what?” Everyone asked in unison.

“I–” you stammered. “Well he never said it was about me, but he did use my line.”

Eren was pacing around the room now. “What was the line he used?”

“Something about the first coffee shop run in autumn.”

Recognition lit up in his eyes as you mentioned the lyric and he paused his movements. “He also used a line from Erwin in that song,” Eren thought aloud. “And I think he had a line about the drums that Hange had said about Miche.”

Oh, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t help but feel… disappointed. Eren’s words were sobering, and you felt yourself shrink. It was true, you had only met him a handful of times. Why would he write about you? Mikasa seemed to sense your deflating mood because she leaned over to wrap an arm around you. You smiled at her in return. 

Upon noticing your mood, Eren let out a sigh. He sat back down beside you and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want him to like you,” he began. “It’s just that… well, Levi’s the most emotionally unavailable guy I know. I’ve never so much as heard him say the word ‘happy’ outside of a song. I just don’t want you to build him up in your head just to get hurt by reality.” He looked at you knowingly.

Armin nodded along. “Eren’s right,” he agreed. “Being in love with the idea of someone is as good as handing your heart over to be broken. You shouldn’t have to put yourself through that again.” 

Again.

You remember that night freshman year that you were supposed to go on a date with a guy named Floch.

Floch had come up to where you and Eren were sitting and having lunch out on the quad. It was a breezy spring morning and you recall the way Floch’s red hair blew across his face as he approached the two of you with an easy smile. You gave Eren a ‘do you know this guy?’ look as he shook his head no.

“Hey,” he had said to you, pointedly ignoring Eren. 

“Hey…” you answered politely but cautiously as you looked over at Eren. Eren was eyeing him suspiciously.

“I just wanted to let you know how good you look in this light,” he spoke again with a charming smile and his hand extended out for a handshake. “I’m Floch.” You blushed at him and slipped your hand in his as you introduced yourself. Eren’s eyes sharpened into a dangerous glare when Floch twisted your hand in his and brushed his lips against your knuckles. He coughed and finally drew the redhead’s attention to him. 

“I’m Eren,” he said and reached his hand out, knuckles up, to mock Floch.

Floch simply laughed and nodded his head. His eyes fixed into a cold stare that contrasted his smile. “Hey man.” 

Floch reached over for one of the napkins that sat between you and Eren and pulled out of a pen and wrote down his number. “Text me?” And when you nodded, he walked away, back to his group of friends who jovially patted him on the back at his return.

“That guy is an absolute creep,” Eren breathed out, not bothering to wait for him to be completely out of earshot.

“Eren…” you warned. “He seemed nice, and he was kind of cute.” You pulled out your phone.

“He looks like half the guys on this campus,” Eren rolled his eyes as he looked at the number written on your napkin. “Don’t text him.”

“Too late,” you replied, as you hit send on a message.

Once Mikasa and Armin found out about it, they were on his side. 

Floch had asked you out on a date immediately upon seeing your message and that Friday night, Armin and Eren had come over to the dorm room that you and Mikasa shared. You were in the middle of getting ready, still trying to settle on an outfit and the two of them were sitting on Mikasa’s twin bed watching you with interest. 

Mikasa stood by you at your wardrobe, helping you pick and choose tops for your outfit while Armin deeply sighed.

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to not go?” Mikasa prodded even as she handed you another piece. You held it against your body to check it in your reflection before shaking your head and handing it to her.

“Guys,” you pleaded. “I really like him. I don’t see what the issue is.”

You watched Eren scoff and make eye contact with you in the mirror. His bright eyes watching yours carefully. “I can give you a list. Alphabetized even.”

You turned to glare at him. “Bite me, Yaeger.” Floch had joined you and Eren and Armin for lunch the next afternoon with a fully cooked meal for you and a bouquet of flowers, and since then, you and Eren had been arguing about him since then. Even Armin was skeptical of him and how he seemed to love-bomb you, as he called it, right after meeting you. “It’s nice to be with a guy that’s so direct about how he feels about me.”

“That’s the problem,” Armin spoke up. “Isn’t he a little too interested? The flowers, coming to your classes with breakfast, like that’s nice, but you’ve known him for all of two days. He hasn’t even asked about your major.”

You chewed your lip. You could argue with Eren all day long, but Armin had always been able to get you to see reason, even if you chose to ignore it. Which you did. There was only 15 minutes left before the time Floch said he’d pick you up, and you decided you were too far in to text him now.

“Armin’s right,” Mikasa said. “And he’s been a shit texter, hasn’t he?”

“Okay, but not everyone is a good texter,” you argued. You grabbed one last outfit option and walked into the bathroom to change. “Misa, you barely send five words in a single text on a good day.” You walked back out after changing and watched as Armin and Eren and Mikasa gave you a reluctant thumbs up.

You settled onto your own bed and Mikasa sat beside you and fussed with the collar of your top. “Shouldn’t that jackass be here soon?” Eren sighed.

“Yeah,” you replied. “He said 7, so five more minutes.”

At 7 p.m., Floch was nowhere to be found.

At 7:15 p.m. he hadn’t answered any of your texts.

At 7:38 p.m. you got a call from Floch. Who butt-dialed you. From the club. With his friends who congratulated him on getting a girl to fall for him in a record-breaking five days.

At 7:45 you were crying into Mikasa’s arms.

At 8 p.m. Eren said, “A guy who likes you isn’t going to see you as a challenge to be won.”

“Woah woah woah,” Jean chimed in. “How do you know that he’s emotionally unavailable?”

Jean’s voice brought you back to the situation at hand.

You’re not quite sure why you were suddenly feeling defensive. Armin and Eren had only ever looked out for your best interests, especially after that incident with Floch. But when you remember how shy Levi got after he finished playing, and how open he was with you the night before, a part of you desperately wanted them to be wrong.

“Have you met him?” Mikasa chuckled. “That man is the definition of ‘if looks could kill.’ He only looks nice when he’s on stage.”

“Well he can’t be all bad if he can write songs that are so… personal” Jean continued to ask. Armin was right to bring him. His presence was refreshing. 

“You somehow manage to be passing psych when you’re an absolute dumbass,” Eren countered. Mikasa swatted at him and he immediately folded. “Sorry. Instinct. What I meant to say was that Levi holds his cards close to his chest, not necessarily that he doesn’t have feelings.”

“My question still stands,” Jean replied. “How can you write songs like that and be emotionally unavailable?”

Eren looked at him with frustration. “It’s not that hard,” he retorted.

Again, Mikasa swatted at his arm and shot him a glare.

“I mean I imagine it’s not that hard.”

Jean rolled his eyes before continuing. “No offense dude,” he began as Eren scowled at him. “But you are the biggest loverboy I’ve ever met. It’s pretty obvious which songs you had a hand in writing because they’re so very clearly about Mikasa and so very clearly written by a simp.” 

“First of all, how would you know?” Eren accused. “And second of all… which songs?” he blushed as Jean smirked. He was a lot more perceptive than he let on.

Jean cleared his throat as he began to sing… croak, more like. 

“Oh, show me a map of your soul Every second from now I’m gonna love you completely.”

Jean only stopped when Eren lobbed a pillow at his face, but it didn’t stop him from laughing. That was the song you’d danced with Jean to the first night. 

He was right. 

Eren wrote that song when the four of you were still in high school, when he and Mikasa had first started dating. It was the night of the winter formal and you, him, and Armin had spent weeks coming up with the perfect plan for him to confess to her and Eren was more nervous than you’d ever seen him.

“Are you guys sure I have to tell her?” Eren had sweat dripping down his forehead even as you stood on the balcony of the ballroom in the middle of December. He had already pulled his coat off, left only in his white button up and red tie, both of which he’d undone a bit to try to cool himself off.

“Yes!” you and Armin both cried out.

“But what if she hates me after this?”

“Do you know how stupid you sound right now?” you scoffed at him, your breath coming out in puffs in front of you.

“But–”

“No buts, Eren,” Armin chastised. “Mikasa deserves to know.”

“And you both deserve to be happy,” you added. “She’s going to love this.”

Eren, with a nod of determination, reached for his guitar case and shook his fingers out, trying to warm them up. Armin gave you a quick nod and you were thankful to be able to get out of the cold.

You walked back into the ballroom to find Mikasa already wearing a coat. The dancing was still in full swing and the band that the school had hired was playing some slow jazz standards. Under the glow of the warm lights, you could see your hands regaining color after having to hype your nervous friend up for over 20 minutes in the cold. She smiled when she saw you approach. “Headed somewhere?” you had asked her.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I couldn’t find you guys, so I thought I’d go out to the balcony for a breather.”

Perfect. You smiled sweetly at her as she raised an eyebrow. She knew something was up, but Mikasa in all her kindness was never one to fight against one of your schemes. “Oh? I’ll walk you out.”

You slipped your arm into hers and reached for your phone with your other hand, shooting Armin a text, telling him to clear out. He found the two of you just as you reached the french doors. His cheeks were pale with a bright spot of red that stretched across his cheeks and his blonde hair was disheveled from the wind.

“Oh hey,” Armin said casually. He pulled you away from Mikasa as she looked at the two of you with confusion. “Sorry, we just have to, uh, discuss some things. But the balcony’s free.”

“Thanks…” Mikasa said skeptically. The two of you watched as she finally walked out of eyesight before Armin grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you upstairs to another balcony. 

“Armin, you suck at bluffing,” you chuckled at him as he rolled his eyes.

Once you were both settled, you and Armin headed towards the railing. You could hear Eren’s voice crack as he spoke to Mikasa, “I wrote a song for you.” Armin looked at you curiously as you reached for the tie of your coat and began to wrap it around your phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” Armin whisper-shouted to you. He made no moves to stop you. 

“They’ll want a video of this,” you explained matter-of-factly. “Now hand me your tie, it’s not long enough.”

With a roll of his eyes, he obeyed and you knotted the two ties together. Armin made sure the phone was secure and hit record before leaning over the balcony to dangle your phone over the edge. You and Armin both listened in awe as you listened to Eren sing. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard him play the guitar, but it was the first time you’d heard his voice. You didn’t think he had it in him to carry a tune, honestly, but he did surprisingly well.

Jean’s voice snapped you out of your memories. “Was I right?” he questioned smugly.

Mikasa smiled as she looked over at a blushing Eren. “Yeah, you were.”

“See?” he raised an eyebrow at you as he continued. “All I’m saying is that maybe that song was about you, and maybe he only knows how to express his feelings through music. I don’t think it’s a reach.” Jean put his hands up in defense as he finished his statement.

“Well look,” Armin conceded. “Jean has a point. Some people are better at expressing themselves in other ways, like some people are acts of service people.” He pointed over at you. “Like how you make sure Eren and Jean always have class notes when they need it.”

He pointed at Mikasa. “Physical touch,” he explained. “You don’t say much, but you know when to put an arm around someone who’s sad.” 

Finally at Jean. “Quality time.” Jean scoffed as he wondered how Armin read him so easily. “You don’t have to hang out with us if you don’t want to, but you’re here.”

“Whatever,” Jean mumbled, but his cheeks turned pink anyway. Jean was perceptive, but Armin could read any person and a situation upside down and backwards.

“Well how does that help me?” you asked. “We can speculate about Levi’s feelings all day long… but I’d like to have a concrete answer.”

Armin’s eyes lit up as he devised a plan.

“Eren, what did you say your psych project was again?”

“To spend time with… oh no,” Eren trailed off as he watched the all too familiar mischievous glint in Armin’s eyes. He sat up straighter. “Armin, don’t include me in your plans.” “What?” Jean asked. “What are you planning, blondie?”

“Well, if you and Levi just so happen to do things together, and Jean and Eren just so happen to be there too,” Armin explained with a smug smile. “Then you can have them keep track of whether or not there are signs that Levi’s actually into you.”

Eren groaned as Jean laughed heartily. “That sounds so fun, actually,” Jean said. Armin returned his grin.

“It really doesn’t,” Eren countered. “Why can’t you and Mikasa go?” he asked Armin.

“I’m busy working on my own projects,” Mikasa shrugged. She smiled smugly as she continued. “Armin has his capstone.” If Mikasa was on board, so was Eren, however reluctant he may be.

“So it has to be you and Jean,” Armin confirmed to Eren. “Plus you guys will keep each other balanced, since Eren is a skeptic and Jean is a believer. And you guys get a good grade on your project.”

“C’mon, jackass,” Jean rolled his eyes at Eren. “It’s only a few more weeks till the end of the semester.”

Usually, you and Armin were the schemers of the group. One of you would come up with a plan, and the other would be ready to make it happen. This time however, you had a weird feeling. Anticipation? Excitement? You didn’t have time to decide, because soon, all eyes were on you.

“What do you think?” Armin asked. You scanned their faces. Jean and Armin looked at you with excitement. Mikasa also seemed interested in this plan. Eren, though he tried to hide it, also raised an eyebrow in interest.

“Ah,” you sighed. “What the hell? Why not?”

a/n: originally, i was gonna make floch a guy who tried to date you to convince you to join a cult (bc surprisingly, when i was in university, cult recruitment was a big thing?) but decided to make him a jack-ass instead. also the idea of Eren being a "can i sing for u" type of guy is so funny to me and you can't convince me that if he had a little sibling he wouldn't be a protective overbearing little shit.

[katya-1917]

"i don't think they know what marxism-leninism is"

Haha, that's like, most of the people I have to deal with all the time. They mostly just call me a tankie, or a "filthy pinko", and like, they're not wrong, but... well, yeah, it gets annoying, it's not the whole story, and it's just... draining, to try to talk about leftism with people who throw the word "tankie" around like Americans in the 50s threw "pinko" around, especially when a lot of them are people who could make my life really, really suck if they found out I'm a real live Marxist-Leninist and actually that far left and that hardline, and not just playing an outrageously campy Cold War era Soviet sympathiser for the bit.

The way you people talk about reading theory on here is wild. Y'all will praise your favorites and say the best writers explain everything perfectly... meanwhile here's me who... well, I enjoy the theory, when I can actually understand at least half of it and it's not giving me a pounding headache now and a worse one in the morning.

Can't say I've ever read Stalin though. Maybe he actually does write well and decades of changing meanings and degrading literacy among the expanding literate class hasn't wrecked his writing the way it has wrecked earlier socialist theory.

reading stalin makes me feel like i am illiterate late 19 century russian peasant worker and he's bolshevik agitator explaining marxism 101 for babies edition to me

[ellecdc]

could we get cbbh the first time sirius and reader are alone after the victory? i feel like in the rush of everything and with suddenly becoming parents, any real reaction they might’ve had to it finally being over would have to be pushed down and away. i just imagine remus or someone taking draco carefully from their arms and saying “go rest. go process.”

CW: don't read this if you haven't finished our Marauders Come Back, Be Here Series - this one shot contains spoilers and will ruin the fic if you plan on reading it. some angst, hurt/comfort, implied PTSD and a scared hopelessness which is combatted by gentle encouragement and care. fear of what's happened and cautious hope for the future

CBBH Sirius Black x Vix!reader who take a moment to process the end of the war [1.2k words]

The November wind howled outside of 12 Grimmauld Place as Sirius shut the door behind you and Draco; Remus, Lily, James with Harry in his arms all turning to give you a sad smile that ended up being more of a grimace, though Harry - sweet Harry - still had his ever present smile on his face. 

“That was…that was nice.” Remus tried then, helping Lily out of her jacket so she could take Harry from James, allowing him to take off his own. “It was a nice funeral, I think.” 

“I’ve not been to a whole lot.” Lily admitted quietly then. “With the war…there were so many deaths but… not many funerals.” 

James hummed at that. “Mum and Dad’s…that was a nice funeral.” He offered quietly, smiling shyly at Sirius who offered him a wide, watery smile in return, though it fell quickly. 

“I…I don’t even know what to say.” Sirius continued. “Like…what now? What- what do we do?” 

“Now,” Regulus drawled as he walked into the room, eyes on you as he held his arms out for Draco who reached for him willingly, “you breathe.” 

“What?” You rasped, though if Regulus noticed you hesitate relinquishing your hold on Dra- your son, he didn’t mention it. “Where are you going?”

At the sound of your panic, both Remus and Sirius reached for you; a hand on your shoulder and your waist respectively. 

“I’m going to put Draco down for a nap.” Regulus explained calmly. “And you’re going to go breathe.”

“But-”

“Hey, love.” Sirius interrupted, pulling you closer to him. “Maybe that’d be good, hm?”

“I think you two have a lot to catch up on.” Remus offered then with a kind smile, and you pretended not to notice the pitying look your oldest friend was giving you. 

Regulus had since left the entryway, but Sirius continued standing with you as the rest of the family vacated. 

“Do you want me to go get him, Vix?” Sirius murmured then. “Regulus didn’t mean any harm by it.” 

“I know.” You whispered back.

“Do you want me to go get him?” 

You thought about it; really thought about it. You’re not even sure how many days it’s been since you found yourself at the Potter’s Cottage in Godric’s Hollow. It felt like both a lifetime ago and yesterday that you rediscovered the people who meant the world to you. It’s been….months of fighting for your life…

“Vix?” Sirius whispered, gently wrapping his arm further around you to pull you in closer. “You okay?”

“No.” You answered. “I- yes, I mean yeah. I’m okay. We…we can leave him, Draco- I think. Right?” 

If Sirius was bothered by your nervous rambling, he didn’t show it. Instead, he pressed a chaste kiss to your temple before leading you towards the staircase by the small of your back. 

The two of you changed in silence; you, hiding in the closet with the door closed (but not entirely), shame coursing through your being at not feeling entirely comfortable around the one person who would do just about anything to keep you safe, and he, having no such inhibitions, stripping fully naked in what was supposed to be your room but quickly became your shared room. 

Out of your funeral clothes and into something a touch more comfortable, you joined him at the foot of the bed, perching yourself on the edge and listening to the wind whip past your window. 

“Hardly even two weeks ago,” Sirius started softly; face pointed straight forward as he stared out unseeingly at Grimmauld Place, “you…were gone. You were dead. I- I was trying to figure out how to get by without you and then…”

You huffed out a breath as he found his words.

“-and then you fell out of the fucking sky and-”

“And then we found out one of your greatest, oldest friends was in on a plot to kill us all.” You continued for him.

“And then I lost you again.” 

“And then you played dragon slayer.” You teased, mustering up the best smile you could manage, and it seemed that Sirius, for his part, was grateful for it. 

“We became parents,” he added, now looking at you as his eyes seemed to search yours for something, “a week ago…we somehow ended up with a child.”

“I failed her.” You whispered then, and Sirius stiffened as he fully turned his body towards you.

“What? Vix, no. How could you even say that?”

“She saved me, Pads and I…I failed her I couldn’t- I couldn’t even return the favour.” 

“Y/N…”

“Everything that happened, everything that I lived through, I-” you paused, rubbing your lips together as you searched for the words. “I always told myself…there was a purpose for it all, you know? I…I thought that… I could get through it because I had to, because I was trying to help, I was trying to save people.” 

Sirius allowed that to sit in the air as you took over watching the cars pass by on the street below you. “I feel like I failed.”

“You didn’t fail, love.” Sirius insisted. “Of course you didn’t.”

“But-”

“Narcissa died protecting her son.” He pressed. “She saved you, that’s true, but that didn’t kill her. Bellatrix did.” 

You listened to the wind and the sound of Sirius’ hand rubbing up and down your back. “I owe her a great deal, Siri.” 

Sirius let out a long sigh before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I think you’re already paying her back, Vix. I owe her everything too, you know. I…she saved the most important thing in her life, but she also saved the most important thing in mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t tell you to be sorry.” He offered gently as he shook his head, lifting one hand to brush a few strands from your forehead. “But you’ve spent the past nearly half a year trying to save the world on your own. I just don’t want you to think you’re doing it on your own anymore, or that you have to ever again.” 

You nodded, but you must not have seemed convinced enough for Sirius.

“You spent so long surviving, and mostly on the behalf of everyone else. The world is yours now, Vix; maybe now you can live again. We both can.”

“I… I’m not sure I know how to live in this world anymore. I don’t know what to do with all this hurt.” You admitted slowly; feeling the weight of the words as they left your lips, speaking them without even having realised you were thinking them. 

“Then we’ll learn.” Sirius decided, words both determined yet gentle as he took your hand in both of his. “Together, yeah? We can learn how to live in this world - hurt and all - together?” 

You looked at him then; grey eyes pooling with hope and determination that felt so familiar coming from him. Like Sirius was incapable of feeling anything but hope and determination, like it was simply his baseline. 

And because he seemed to be so sure, so certain, so confident in his decision, you couldn’t help but share some confidence in him in turn. 

“Okay.” You agreed then, and something very warm and comfortable bloomed in your chest at the slow, almost shy smile that grew across his face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You agreed then with more sincerity. “As long as it’s together.”

His smile fell so soft as he lifted a gentle hand to pull your lip from between your teeth with his thumb. “I’d have it no other way, Vix.”

[utilitycaster]

#reblogging for the “see: girlfailure” tag#caus I have opinions on the insular fandom memeification of characters but I don't - as this post highlights - have the words for it#but I keep those to dms caus anytime I or a friend has challenged it in a public space it gets shot down#it reeks of my troubles with the general fear of using the word woman these days and how it's girldinner this girlmath that#also what do you call as intentional character traits vs a flopped dice roll

(via @distant--shadow)

so I agree and this is interesting to me because what always frustrated me about "girlfailure" outside the more general issue of "um, coquette/bimbo/girl dinner/uwu soft divine feminine cottagecore domesticity don't you mean u want to braid her hair is actually TRUER feminism than being the surly woman who loves math and sword fights and hates sewing" and the fact that, as you said, it mostly came from bungled dice rolls and no real intent, is that the same people who call her a girlfailure insist that Imogen is the main character. And like, she kind of is! And yet - and I've said this about Imogen and Laudna in the context of their relationship but I'm going to not include that because I actually don't think that's even relevant, it's about them as individual characters as well - people want them to simultaneously be The Main Character or at least heavily in focus and also never, ever have any agency. Like, they want "capable" to mean that everyone likes you, and not that you are a person who makes hard choices for the better.

Maybe it's because I'm playing Baby's First RPG right now, but the deal with RPGs and I think(?) especially this one, is you must make every choice and it is laden with consequences (not that I as a D&D player, or, you know, a human woman, am unfamiliar with that already) but what drives me nuts about the just a silly guy! girlfailure! she chooses to be good and therefore is good narrative for Imogen, and the "stripped of choice" (another highly repeated turn of phrase) for both her and Laudna is that it's untrue and it means nothing. For all my criticism of What Doesn't Break, Laudna makes choices. I frequently dislike them and wish they had more gravity, but she does make them. She doesn't make every choice - notably, her death and Delilah's presence are huge things that happen to her without her input - but even while barely herself she frequently brushes off Delilah. You can imagine the dialogue trees and the paths she takes, to intervene or not. She decides to renew her pact; she decides to run into the desert. Imogen decides to attack the villagers with lightning to defend Laudna. She decides to leave, she decides to keep burning their rivals in the Twilight Mirror Museum, she decides to tell her mother that she won't join her, she decides not to help assassinate her mother.

Fearne has a wonderful line when she's talking with Chetney after shardgate, in which she explains that she's terrified of making bad choices. Not of being a bad person, but of making the bad choices. And that's the thing. You cannot choose to be good. You cannot choose to be bad. At least not in any general sense. You can, however, make choices that harm people or help them. You constantly must do this. You can stray, or change the type of choices you've made, but they do accumulate to a point, eventually, where it becomes harder and harder to stray. However, the premise of D&D is very much that your character hasn't become locked in, yet. Is Imogen making choices that will be better for other people? If the world rests on her shoulders, is she making better choices for the world?

This is perhaps the core theme of this campaign, dating as far back as Downfall. Aeor made their choice - many, many choices. The gods made theirs. Ludinus kept making his, over, and over. It's particularly resonant among the women of the campaign. Obviously there's Fearne, and I've covered Imogen and Laudna, but going over to the Crown Keepers, Morrigan becomes a paladin in a few short weeks - an immense choice. Fy'ra advises others on what they are going to do. And Opal is where she is now because in one moment she put the crown on her head - and in doing so, ceded further choice in the long run. The deities of both fate and free will in this world are given considerable presence in this story, and both use female pronouns.

Maybe I'm making a mountain of a molehill, but I don't think I am. I really do think people cling to "girlfailure" and act like we're just being meanie haters who don't believe Imogen is good because she can be the central character who has power to change the world and the narrative; or she can be pure and innocent of all wrongdoing. she cannot be both. No one can. And deep down I think the "girlfailure" proponents prefer a useless innocent girl to a powerful woman who sometimes makes choices or does things that hurt other people. So I don't think that one's just harmless meme-ing, and if you want to see Imogen as an exceptionally important part of this narrative I think you have to reject the girlfailure, and anyone saying "oh it's just a joke" is either unthinkingly repeating or is pushing a story where Imogen is just a MacGuffin without agency, and neither is worth, in my opinion, listening to. Someone "stripped of choice" in real life is worth our pity and deserves our assistance but they make for a pretty terrible fantasy protagonist, and it's maddening to see a woman in the center of the story and then to be attacked if you want her to be treated like a person who, as a result of being a key protagonist, holds particular power and isn't just a girlfailure.

[notsorryiml8]

Concerning Kakashi's skill as a teacher, I think a lot of the differing opinions how good he is is caused by differing ideas of what he's supposed to do. I've seen a lot of fanfic that "fixes" him and makes him more of a drill sergeant, having him decide how team 7 trains and what roles they take. A more true to canon take, I think, is that his job is to be more of team leader than having a master-apprentice kinda role. He teaches mission procedures, handing clients, and basically how to live as a ninja. He could probably give them some advice, about actual jutsu and stuff, maybe recommend certain teachers, make sure they aren't being irresponsible, etc. I think that he shouldn't have had to teach them tree walking, that being something they discover on their own, maybe with hints, but had to ignore subtlety due to the Wave mission. Like, the only other sensei that actually seems to be teaching their assigned student actual jutsu is Gai and Lee, everyone else, even close pairs like Asuma and Shikamaru, seems to be more like role models, or mentors. Idk if I'm explaining it right. TLDR Kakashi's a good sensei, his role in team 7 was never to be a drill sergeant/combat instructor, that role is fulfilled by master/apprentice relationships like Gai and Lee, and Sannin and team 7.

I may be wrong, but I don’t ever recall questioning Kakashi’s teaching skills. Heeeck, I’m one of his most ardent defenders 😊 lol. But I do also recognize his humanity.

I think Kakashi became a better sensei over time, but didn’t necessarily start out as a “good” sensei. But, before anyone jumps on me, that’s the nature of any job; especially one you never wanted. You learn by experience. A fresh, out of school, green neophyte on their first day ever on the job anywhere is not going to be as skilled as someone who’s been there 20 years, five years, or even just one year.

Kakashi, as a sensei, was just as confused as Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke were as students. Dude was winging it, because there wasn’t any other way. He wasn’t expecting them to pass, nobody else ever passed his test before and he didn’t have enough faith in the Konoha ninja education system to believe they’d create a team of kids who could work as a team. He was only in school for a year, if that, so he didn’t know what those kids were learning. So, he wasn’t prepared. Or even lowkey, he may not have wanted them to pass because it meant, omg, I have to be responsible for other people, tiny other people, tiny other people with no skills.

In Anbu, yes, he was a captain, but that was different. Anbu was loneliness. Anbu was darkness. Anbu members were expected to be cold-blooded killers. And Anbu members typically weren’t 12 (he, Itachi, and Yamato/Tenzo were exceptions). He also didn’t have to teach; just train. Different ballgame.

Anyway, I digress, back to Team 7, one was the son of his sensei who he trying desperately to not remember because it hurt, not to mention the kid was feral (yeah, I said it, 12-year-old OG Naruto was feral - severe neglect will do that); another was the last member of his clan that was brutally murdered under the authority of the village, so that kid was a just a wee bit unhinged; and the third was the this little kunoichi that from his perspective probably shouldn’t have been in the ninja world in the first place because it was a cruel, cold, brutal life and she was “normal.” He didn’t know what to do with a normal kid - he was never one. In the end, he accepted the situation for what it was and learnt as much as he taught. And that’s the beauty of it - the teacher became the student and the students became the teacher.

It seems like the academy teaches bare basics - heck, he graduated in a year at age 5. I’m not downplaying his skills by any means, just stating the freak of nature that he is, completed years long training in just a fraction of that time and not sure if that says something about him or the education system - they weren’t prepared to work with prodigious kids and that says a lot. Yeah yeah yeah somebody will say they were at war, so they let the brat graduate. But that’s another post.

Anyway, that being said, I agree the academy should teach more. I strongly believe they should, at a bare minimum, learn their chakra nature while there. That seems like common sense. Just give out the litmus paper and test them and group them accordingly (I find it hard to believe that there are a bunch of shinobi going around not knowing what nature they have. Guess it would be based in your clan??). The basics of chakra control, water walking, tree climbing, etc… Makes you wonder what the heck they did teach them while there. I’m beginning to think it was just regular school and they learned some “cool ninja stuff” here and there - clones, substitution jutsu, taijutsu…

That being said, from what I garner, your clan is supposed to teach you their secrets and jutsu. Your sensei can’t do that. The school is supposed to teach you the basics 🤷🏽‍♀️. And your sensei is supposed to hone those skills. Take you on missions so you can learn in the field. Train your skills. Find your talents and strengths and enhance them.

As for Gai, Asuma, and Kurenai. I believe they all trained their students in different ways. My girl Kurenai doesn’t get much screen or page time, so you don’t know what she did or didn’t do or the hours she put in with them. Same for Asuma. You only get to see Gai’s team so much because Rock Lee is so awesome Gai is Kakashi’s rival, so more screen time by proxy. That’s not to say Asuma and Kurenai didn’t spend hours upon hours training their squads. Which I believe they did because at the end of the day, the K12 kicked butt and that required intensive training. Remember, all because you don’t see it happening, doesn’t mean it didn’t. They’re all amazing sensei in their own right. If you think about it, all those kids made it to the Chunin Exams, meaning a minimum of 8-9 missions. Remember Iruka tested Team 7 before the exam to see if they were ready. Thinking or hoping someone tested the other teams too. Which means those sensei had to put in time with them.

As for drill sergeant Kakashi, not sure if you’ve ever taken martial arts, but I have/do. Sensei are not the nicest people by any means- out of the dojo, they can be, but on the mat, when training, you might as well have a drill sergeant. They yell in your face, they throw you around (painfully). They want you to be serious and understand the seriousness of it. They are training you to fight and yes, you do learn techniques that can be lethal and how to use weapons irl. So, they have to be serious and they do work with you based on your own skillset. So, there’s some merit to that, historically. So, in a world that’s built around the shinobi system, Kakashi as a drill sergeant-sensei is possible and that doesn’t make him any more/less good or bad than the other sensei. Same for Kakashi as mentor-sensei. I think he became Team Leader Kakashi with the introduction of Team Kakashi, when he acknowledged them as his equal. But at the end of the day, why can’t he be all three? There’s a time and place for each role and no one size fits all approach to teaching. At the end of the day he was trying his best. They all were. And he was a good, but flawed, sensei. They all were.

[mymegrokosmos]

"You good?"

Your head whipped around at the voice, the laughter warm in every word. He was smiling when you craned your head from where you knelt, struggling with the zipper on your backpack, to look at him. Of course he was. Jeong Yunho, class clown and unofficial prince of your whole cohort.

You snorted, rolling your eyes at the pretty man fiddling with the strap of his bag. "I'm fine. You can check off your quota of helping out damsels in distress for the day and find someone else to fulfill that requirement."

His expression shuttered at your harsh tone. The deadpan way you parroted the words like you were reading them off a script while your fingers worked furiously in an attempt to charm the zip unstuck. It was silent for a minute and you almost thought he'd left, only you hadn't heard any footsteps.

He was still there when you glanced up again, chewing on the end of one of the strings hanging perfectly from the talisman of truth hanging off the shoulder strap of the beat up messenger bag he wore slung over one broad shoulder.

"Are you always this mean?"

You shrugged.

"I'd say I understand why you have no friends, only that isn't true. You always have those two wolves hanging all over you. Your pack maybe? That would explain why they put up with you."

You sighed.  "Do you always speak every thought you have out loud? It's rather annoying. I'm trying to focus."

Instead of leaving like you hoped, because why on earth would you ever be so lucky, he knelt beside you instead. Talisman forgotten completely as he ducked his head to get a better look at what you were doing. He nudged your hands aside and with a few deft movements of his own he had your stubborn zipper sliding back into place in no time.

"You didn't have to make that look so easy."

He wiggled long fingers in a way that sparked something familiar in your brain. You knew those gestures. Or, you should know them, anyway. You recognized a sigil of smoothing and a charm of repair. You sighed. Why did he have to be good at all the subjects you shared?

"Thanks."

You didn't spare the man another glance as you stood, swinging your newly functional again bag over one shoulder. He sprang back up to his full height with a grace you usually only saw in shifters and you remembered he was also an athlete. Of course there wasn't anything the golden boy of year 9 couldn't do.

You suppressed another roll of your eyes, just barely, and glanced over at your desk to make sure you'd gotten everything. It wouldn't do to leave any of your things behind, not here. It would be easy for any of your classmates to read too many secrets into any notes or objects they found lingering around. You couldn't have that.

You turned to leave, narrowly avoiding bumping right into Yunho's sweater clad chest. You put a hand out to stop yourself colliding with him, hand landing right on the soft cheery yellow fabric, and quickly pulled away at the little electric zap that followed. He frowned at you. You didn't stop to explain, just pushing past and angling your hip so no more of your body brushed against his as you hurried out of the room.

"I'm Yunho by the way. If you even care to know."

You threw the steely haired man a look that you hoped conveyed your disdain. Something you weren't entirely sure you were feeling but he didn't have to know that. The faux flame lighting crackling overhead along the lecture hall ceiling gave the silver of his hair a blue tone you found oddly appealing. You blinked those thoughts away and shook your head to clear it.

"I know who you are Jeong."

"Good, then can I call you by your first name next time we meet like this?"

"There won't be a next time."

You'd have to make sure of it. You couldn't afford friends. None besides the two you couldn't shake anyway. You really couldn't afford any distractions. Yunho was a very very big distraction in the making. You didn't give him time to get any more words in. This was the first, and last, conversation with Jeong Yunho you'd ever have.

Or so you told yourself.

[ssentimentals]

Hi! Can i request the8 with soft prompt #26? Thank you!

hi, darling! thank you so much for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

fluff prompt: 'i don't understand, but i believe you.'

'i don't know how to explain it,' you mutter, rosy blush appears on your cheeks as you stare at minghao. 'i just- get this feeling, sometimes. like i know the future but not- ugh.'

it's impossible to explain without sounding silly, unfortunately. especially to someone like minghao, who is so attentive and is literally the definition of an 'active listener'. and maybe that's why you find yourself spilling all the truth and all your thoughts to him, because something about the way minghao listens to you like he can do it for hours, something about the way minghao looks at you like you hold the universe in the palms of your hands - it makes you dizzy. giddy inside with all the excitement and desire to share, to let him in. minghao never made fun of you and even now, when you're barely making any sense, he simply holds your hands in his and watches you with soft smile on his face. 'carry on,' he urges, drawing circles with his thumbs on your skin. 'i want to hear.'

'like-' words sometimes are so hard to grasp. 'like someone enters my life and sometimes i can just tell that they won't stay, you know? that kind of feeling. do you understand?'

minghao hums thoughtfully, shaking his head after a while. 'i don't think i ever felt anything like it. and you always felt right? i mean, when you felt that someone is not here to stay - they always left?' you nod. 'and do you have a feeling when someone new enters your life and you know that they are about to stay?'

yes, i felt it with you is on your tongue but you swallow it. is minghao ready to hear something like this? you frankly doubt it. it's been barely four months that you two started dating and saying something like that might scare him away. so you settle for generic: 'yes, when someone comes to stay i... also feel it.'

minghao nods. 'i don't understand, but i believe you.' he looks at you with a shy smile, asking: 'and if i may... did you- have you felt this about me? you don't have to answer if it's too personal.'

no, you want to say. i felt like i finally met the one, like you are the one. i felt like i never felt before, like you are not only here to stay, but you are here for me. all you manage is weak: 'that would be a spoiler, no?'

minghao chuckles, nodding. he stays silent for some time, pulling you into his arms, letting you cuddle up close. 'i don't know what you felt, but i am here to stay.' he whispers into your head, all serious. 'just letting you know in case you felt differently.'

you hide your smile, feeling warm not only from his jacket. minghao drops a kiss on top of your head and you hug him tighter. i know, you want to say. after all, you've never been wrong before.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[cyb3r-st4rz]

I love yapping about Alpha and Pebble being a little bit toxic for fun but I created a relationship analysis on accident while yelling at a friend about them (said friend has no fucking clue who I was talking about) so anyway, have 500 words of me rambling about Alpha and Pebble and why they are the way that they are:

edit: tagging @wrathofrats because they are like one of the biggest reasons I went down this rabbit hole

Alpha looks down on most of his packmates but not out of malice. He has a certain natural authority, being one of the oldest ghouls still topside. His mind works on the concept of strength and dominance. He’s not entirely just mean to his packmates, he simply sees his natural authority as something that elevates him. Again there is no bad intention whatsoever, he loves his pack more than anything. That arguably makes his “superiority” even more prominent. He has to watch out for them. When he was summoned the ghouls were treated like shit. Much like back in the pits, they had to fight for their right to exist everyday. Proving their value to the clergy over and over again because if they weren’t useful, what was stopping them from sending them back? Alpha loved Secondo but subconsciously never forgave him for letting his pack be ripped to shreds over and over again. Logically he knew Secondo tried, it cost him not only his status as papa but eventually his life. 

Maybe knowing all that explains Alpha and Pebbles relationship.

When Pebble was summoned he looked haggard and frail, not unlike any previously summoned ghouls but something was different. Alpha didn’t quite understand why but he felt the natural impulse to take a stand between the vulnerable earth ghoul and the members of the ministry present. He wouldn’t let them get close, he couldn’t let them hurt him. Eventually Omega managed to take Pebble to the infirmary. Still, Alpha wouldn’t leave his side, growling at siblings and only letting Omega get close enough to provide the needed care.

Pebble was recovering quickly but he stayed rather small. Earth wasn’t around anymore to assess his magical capabilities and the infirmary was too far from any form of nature for Pebble to make it known. So to Alpha that meant he needed to teach the ghoul how to stand his ground against the clergy. If he couldn't defend himself with his fists or his element he should at least have his words. After a few weeks of Alpha essentially bullying the poor ghoul, he started to shoot back. He unknowingly created a monster, as Omega liked to say. 

That's how their complicated relationship started. Alpha giving him shit to try and help him survive in the long run but Pebble not really needing that because, as it turns out Pebble was strong and confident in his magic, quickly proving to be one of the strongest earth ghouls the abbey had ever seen. 

Long after the last ghoul was banished, Alpha still had a hard time letting go of his past compulsions. It got easier over time. Seeing the pack he loved so much develop without the fear and apprehension he had grown used to. Despite everything, his tough-love-act almost turned into a coping mechanism. A pattern he’d fall back into every now and then. The only ghouls who’d put up with him then were Omega, who would just talk him out of it with his therapy bullshit, and Pebble. Pebble, who knows how to handle it, who knows that Alpha loved him not despite but because of the way he’d act and Pebble who understood.

[antianakin]

This encapsulates why I think it should've actually been Jacen Syndulla in Sabine's place if they REALLY needed to give Ahsoka a "Padawan" character to play with.

Jacen being very young would hit at her feelings about having been assigned early as a Padawan, especially if he is with her because he ran away from his guardians (whether that's Hera or whether he was staying with Sabine on Lothal at the time maybe, it doesn't really matter), so he has that same sort of impetuous recklessness that she and Anakin both had that gets him into trouble.

Jacen's youth and the fact that he'll never know his father would provide a really good explanation for him doing something as stupid as going along with Baylan just to get Ezra back. Maybe he just wants to connect to the person who everyone talks about like he's Jacen's brother. Maybe he wants to save Ezra because they CAN'T save Kanan and this is the closest he feels he'll ever get to getting his dad back. Maybe he just wants to prove himself to his family because they keep wanting to protect him and keep him safe and won't take him anywhere even remotely dangerous and he gets why, he does, they lost both Kanan and Ezra already, but if he can get Ezra back then maybe they'll finally let him DO things! Maybe he wants to get Ezra back because even though Ahsoka and Luke are theoretically there as options, he's insistent that it has to be Ezra.

Jacen's a blank slate character, we know who his parents are and he has a name, but other than that, he doesn't have a personality already which means he's basically just as good as an original character in this scenario. He needs to be fleshed out in a way Sabine simply does not, and so giving him a fatal flaw to overcome can only ADD to his character rather than taking AWAY from his character the way it did with Sabine.

And of course, Jacen being Kanan's child provides an obvious reason for his Force sensitivity. Even if you went with the idea that he WASN'T Force sensitive, or wasn't SHOWING Force sensitivity, there's more reason for Jacen to either believe that he COULD be Force sensitive or to just be really invested in becoming a Jedi no matter what. It might even be more compelling if he genuinely isn't Force sensitive at all, but he feels like that's the only connection he has to Kanan, the only way he can remember and honor his father he never met, and his arc over the course of the season is to learn to let go of that. He doesn't have to live up to Kanan and Ezra, he doesn't have to BE Kanan and Ezra, he can just be himself, and he doesn't need to be Force sensitive OR a Jedi in order to be worthwhile.

But if you need Ahsoka to have a Force sensitive child, it makes way more sense for Jacen to BE Force sensitive since there's an obvious connection there, and Jacen being a blank slate character means that there's absolutely no proof that he ISN'T Force sensitive in prior media that would make that choice really confusing (unlike Sabine where she's so clearly established as someone who isn't Force sensitive throughout Rebels and so they had to work REALLY REALLY HARD to explain why Ahsoka would ever take her as an apprentice and why Sabine would think this was a reasonable choice to make).

Sabine might not be his actual mother or his primary guardian, but she's somewhere in the realm of being his aunt/older sister and the connection there would clearly be very strong anyway, especially if Hera had dropped Jacen off on Lothal and Sabine was supposed to be looking after him for a while as Hera dealt with some other things on Coruscant or whatever and it's HER that Jacen ends up running away from.

It's not even like we haven't seen a variation of this done really well already with the Kenobi show where Leia is ALSO quite young in comparison to her titular character Jedi master counterpart. So Jacen being young doesn't have to be a reason for why he COULDN'T have fulfilled with this role in the Ahsoka show just fine if they needed a pre-established character with an easily explained connection to Ezra who would be willing to give up everything to save him and who could become Ahsoka's new padawan.

The only reason it had to be Sabine is because Rebels set up that Ahsoka and Sabine were going to go look for Ezra in their epilogue and that story got combined with whatever the original Ahsoka show narrative was going to be, which likely involved some sort of padawan character for Ahsoka to help parallel her relationship with Anakin. So in order for Sabine to remain a main player in the narrative and fit in with the already pre-established set-up from the Rebels epilogue, Sabine got slotted into that role. That was clearly supposed to be Sabine's story and putting someone else into the role of Ahsoka's padawan sidelines Sabine from the story quite a lot.

So even if you do put in Jacen or some other new character in the role of Ahsoka's padawan, you either run into the issue of sidelining Sabine in her own story, or you exacerbate the issue that already existed of there being too many main characters within one narrative which muddied so many things about the show since it was impossible to tell what the story was actually ABOUT or whose story we were meant to be following. The stupid show was a mess and it couldn't have been fixed by just tweaking one or two things. It needed to be wholesale ripped apart into at MINIMUM two separate shows if not three or even four separate shows (Hera's whole prequel to the Sequels narrative about the New Republic didn't belong in The Mandalorian, Ahsoka's narrative, or the Search for Ezra storyline; and if the Mandoverse needed an "Empire Strikes Back"-esque middle part, it should have been its own thing rather than co-opting Ahsoka and Sabine's completely unrelated stories).

The Search for Ezra as a story, and especially the idea of continuing the Rebels story through Sabine rather than through Ezra and shining a spotlight on her in a way that didn't happen very often in Rebels, is a GREAT concept. Whether it was exploring the edges of their known galaxy or going into a whole new galaxy, it opened up a lot of ways to be really creative while telling what could've been a really great parallel story between Ezra's survival and Sabine's search.

Ahsoka dealing with her past and her feelings about Anakin's betrayal was a necessary next step to her story that needed to be told and I was genuinely really intrigued to see how that got handled and how Ahsoka slowly learned to let go of all of her fears and pain and learned to embrace being a Jedi again after so many years. I REALLY wanted to see Ahsoka find her way back to reclaiming that identity after she had given it up and then had it ripped away from her. I wanted to see how Ahsoka taking back her own story was integrated with Ahsoka dealing with her feelings about Anakin's betrayal.

Both of these stories are GREAT on their own and really provide a way to highlight some of the best female characters Star Wars has ever had.

It's too bad what we got ended up being the most Frankenstein'd hackjob I have possibly ever seen that butchered two of the best female characters Star Wars has ever had.

Yknow, a lot of the Sabine characterization problems in ahsoka (having act like an impulsive teenager when she's almost thirty and was never like that even when she was a teenager and had grown out of her negative teenager traits by the end of Rebels) could have been solved if "Sabine" was a different character

And this "not sabine" could have still been connected to Sabine

How

Adopted daughter

Have the role of Sabine in Ahsoka be taken by an adopted child of hers, someone young and impulsive, has heard stories of Ezra Bridger and how much her mother and her adopted family that is the Ghost crew misses him and wants nothing more than to bring him back to make her family complete again, to the point of making several dangerous mistakes

And it also would have fixed the bullshit "sabine has the force now" nonsense