#because he can have a LITTLE vulnerability without it needing to be utterly devastating | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zv5x · 4 years ago

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Hey guys! An anon requested some Yandere ABC'S with Sen, but I had to reupload cause the formatting was wrong!!! I hope it works this time, and I hope you find it anon! Let me know if you did!

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Hey Anon! Don't worry, requests are open permanently! So feel free to request as much as you want! I'm so glad you enjoy my writings, that makes me feel so happy! I hope you enjoy the ABC's prompt and I hope I did a good job! (*´ω｀*) Stay safe and take care of yourself, you're valid and loved! ( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? - Sen is a major giftgiver. So, expect him to really paint his love for you with lavish spending. Also, along with that, he's a hopeless romantic. So be sure to expect love letters and love notes to be littered around your apartment (whether or not he had permission to be where he placed them...that's up for debate). You met Senpai when you stumbled across his game, and were there to play it before you discovered a way to get him out. So, he was just as affectionate as your average visual novel character. Meaning, he's basically infinitely affectionate. He's very gentlemenly as well: kissing the top of your hand and brushing his lips against the tips of your fingers, helping you get ready each morning (he has to, considering you're literally restrained and rendered unable to do so), and other things. Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling? - I always imagined Sen to be more of a yandere "stereotype" considering his source (a cheesy Japanese romance game with pretty pastel colors and overly sweet and cheesy dialogue). So, Senpai would in that case be willing to make his murders messy. Their lives don't matter to Senpai, and he'll gladly paint a pretty picture of romance with their blood. He'd do anything to emphasize the fact that you belong to him and him alone. Not to those filthy, impure worms. Cruelty: How would they treat their darling when they're abducted? Would they mock them? - Senpai has a bit of an ego problem. So, if he feels it necessary, he'll gladly make you feel inferior to him. "Out of the hundreds of people in the school, you're the one that I long for so strongly. Shouldn't you be greatful for that? I'm sure there's people willing to eat themselves alive just to be in your place." Among other similar statements. Senpai isn't physically cruel unless giving out punishments for "bad behavior", so that's something to be greatful about I suppose. Even with the taunts and reprimands he speaks to you, he doesn't really mean them. Especially the ones about you being inferior in any regard. You're the definition of perfection in his eyes, to the extent he doesn't even really see himself being worthy of your love. But, nobody else is either. While he's not 100% worthy of an angel like you being by his side, he's more worthy than the people that surround the two of you. Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will? - Just like Spirit, the only other things he'd do against your will is take away your rights to freedom, family, friends, along with some other similar things. He doesn't want to traumatize you, and as much as his actions contradict the idea that he's far from a monster, he's truly not. He just wants what's best for your love. Is that really something that's worthy of him being called a monster? Senpai doesn't think so, not one bit. Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? - All of it. His heart is an open book. Senpai wants to woo you, he wants you to know how adored you truly are. He wants you to know how much space you take up in his heart, and he'll do anything to show that to you. Whether it be by taking you out to a nice dinner after you've been on your best behavior for a while, or by murdering past enemies or foes, Sen will do virtually anything Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back? - Completely and utterly heartbroken. How could you, (Y/N)? Here he is, your precious and beloved Senpai, just wanting to take care of you, and this is the thanks he get's? Senpai's little heart will be absolutely crushed, and he'll be sure

to let you know that, even while he's angerly punishing you. Being the main love interest is literally in his code, basically the A.I. equivalent to DNA. He's not used to not winning a person's heart the minute he expresses interest, especially the heart of someone he's putting all his effort into romantically seducing. Senpai will go ballistic after such a rejection, throwing the closest thing to a toddler's temper tantrum that you'll be able to see in an almost full grown adult. Screaming, stomping, crying tears of pure rage, Senpai will display all of it right for you to witness in absolute fear and horror. Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape? - Is this a game to Senpai? Well, yeah. But only considering he's literally a game character himself. He still sees this as the silly dating mechanics from his own game. Even if this is real life, and even if this is completely against your will. He's not used to anything else, so he'll continue living his life and gaining your love the way he's been built to. Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them? - You're not really in the position to cheat on him considering he's holding you in complete isolation, but if you were to cheat on him? Whoo boy. Sen would react in a similar way to Spirit would, only 100x worse. The psychotic laugh yanderes are so infamous for, the brutality, the murder, and then the confrontation of you. A cheater, a liar, a betrayer. You'll pay for what you've done to Senpai, you won't get away with thinking you could pull him around like a toy. He loves you, but now he sees no other option, you must die for what you've done to him. It won't be quick either. No, you're going to feel exactly what you made him feel the moment he found you cheating on him. It's only fair, after all. An eye for an eye. But don't worry, your body will be in good hands! Senpai will still take care of you, and he forgives you for what you've done! Now the two of you can be happy together once again! No more distractions this time! Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling? - The usual...marriage, honeymoon, perhaps some kids or pets (but only if you want them, of course!). Senpai is really up to any kind of future, as long as it's with you, his beloved Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope? - Senpai is EXTREMELY jealous. He's suspicious of basically everyone you come into contact with, and you're always having to deal with him wrapping his arms around you from behind and gently laying down some boundaries for whoever you're just trying to talk to. Expect a few statements like/similar to, "Hey, worm! They're mine!", considering Sen is always trying to show people just how much you belong to him Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling? - Like some kind of flawless prince, but you know damn well that it's just a facade. He tries very hard to keep his yan tendencies hidden from you, but his emotional instability makes him fail miserably at that. But, that doesn't take away from the fact that he's *usually* acting very cool and charismatic Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling? - The usual things you'd see from a hopeless romantic...love letters, cards, poems, hand kisses, dinner dates, and everything else lovey dovey that people do to show a certain person how much they love them. Being a dating game character, Senpai is VERY good at courting anyone he seems romantically compatible Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else? - His true colors are different from the way he tries to appear, but they come out so much that the people closest to him (specifically meaning you, and only you, as all of his other friends are just a.i. in the game that he once took residence in)) consider it apart of his actual personality Naughty: How would they punish their darling? - Probably just by breaking things around the two of them as he screams at them

for whatever they did to anger him. Senpai is very childish, especially when he's rejected, but he's still able to be calmed. You just need to know exactly what to say and when to say it. Which...is shockingly hard, considering how unpredictable Senpai can be Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling? - Just like Spirit, he won't really take away any. But, he'll take away all of it if he feels as if he has to Patience: How patient are they with their darling? - Senpai's patience is quite literally in the lowest of negative numbers, so tread lightly, (Y/N). The slightest and smallest things can set Senpai into hour long rages Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on? - No. Not at all. Senpai would be absolutely devastated. He wouldn't be able to move on, you were his absolute everything. He can't imagine living a life without you, and he won't. Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go? - Regret? No! Absolutely not! Why should Senpai feel any regret? For loving his darling angel? No. That's nothing but foolish. There is no room for regret or shame in Senpai's heart, only love for you Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)? - Rejection is against Senpai's code. You weren't supposed to not want him romantically. Because of this, Senpai quite literally doesn't know how to react. So, he acts...insane? Obsessed? Call it what you want, but make sure its definition doesn't neglect his love for you. Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves? - Senpai would probably just get angrier. Why are you so upset?! Just love him, for fucks sake!! He just wants to take care of you, why won't you just let him? Stop being so difficult, let him take over, and things will be so much better for you! Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere? - Not really. Senpai is pretty much a walking stereotype, with a few small changes here and there. Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape? - His lovesickness, probably. Escaping Senpai would be hard to say the least, but not impossible. Just do the usual, try and act like a sufferer of Stockholm Syndrome and maybe you'll have a good chance at getting away from him Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling? - Without hesitation. If he needs to do it to get his point across, Sen would do it without hesitation. It's all for you, that fact alone removes any chance of hesitation or remorse Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over? - Senpai practically treats you like some overglorified love deity, the definition of a perfect partner. Perfect for him, at least. His entire heart is like an open book, but one that only you can read clearly. It's all for you, after all. Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? - He's good up until he witnesses even the slightest sign of distance or rejection, then he snaps Zenith: Would they ever break their darling? - Like hurting you, he'd do it without any hesitation. It means nothing to him, unlike you. You mean everything, and he'd do everything and anything for you. This is basically nothing to him. He loves you, after all! More than anything else in his world.

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riddlecrux · 4 years ago

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Miserable together, happy apart: a dive into Elain and Lucien's relationship

This meta is based solely on textual pieces of evidence that can be found through the whole ACTOAR series written by SJM. My observations come from the text and what was given to us, the audience, by the author of the book. Due to the fact that this topic is connected with a raging shipping war, I would like to make an important note at the beginning of this (probably) long comparison post. This meta will be touching subjects such as trauma, forced and unhealthy relationships, being uncomfortable around the other person, and enforced feeling of duty. On that note, it's anti Elain and Lucien relationship.

The starting point of the whole relationship and mating bond begins in ACOMAF, when Lucien contributes to Archeron sisters being kidnapped - leading to them being Made. I'm very concerned with the way how this fandom seems to collectively forget about the trauma that Elain went through when she was pushed inside the Cauldron. After ACOSF we are left with the idea that being Made wasn't pleasant - on the contrary, it was horrible and scary, it left Nesta with psychological scars and mental barriers. So why are people forgetting that, in fact, it was Elain who undergone the same terrifying experience first? SJM had described this whole situation very vividly and painfully detailed. It was there to show us that both Elain and Nesta went through something disturbing and traumatizing. That's why I would like to start with a notion of TRAUMA:

"Elain’s foot hit the water, and she screamed—screamed in terror that hit me so deep I began sobbing."

Feyre is there to witness her sisters being shoved into Cauldron and one can only imagine how terrifying it was to observe such a thing. However, there is no amount of words to describe how utterly frightening it was for Elain to be pushed into the unknown. She was the first one, an experiment for everyone to see.

"More water than seemed possible dumped out in a cascade. Black, smoke-coated water. And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown. Her legs were so pale—so delicate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them bare."

Elain was a proper lady. She was the one who went along with the prevailing etiquette and rules. Feyre notices Elain's bare skin and how she doesn't even remember when was the last time she saw so much of it in the broad daylight. Elain was modest, she followed the social obligations and we as readers are presented with the fact that all her principles are being violated in front of these strangers and people she knew from before.

"Elain was still shivering on the wet stones, her nightgown shoved up to her thighs, her small breasts fully visible beneath the soaked fabric. Guards snickered."

She was let out in the open after such a traumatizing event. Just after being Made, the first thing she experiences is another form of trauma. She is involuntary stripped bare in front of males, her proper upbringing and modesty ruined as they openly laugh at her nakedness. It's another traumatic event, not even a moment after her whole human life was taken away from her.

"As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain. She cringed away from the coat, from him—"

It's not surprising that she acted that way. He is yet another male who appears out of nowhere, comes at her when she is in a very vulnerable position. Not to mention, that he is connected to the fact that she and Nesta were kidnapped and used as hostages. He plays a role in her trauma, a trauma that is still happening around her. Elain is subjected to watch her older sister going through the same thing she went through.

"Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.”"

I would say that it wasn't a good thing to say at that moment. It's yet another brick in the wall of traumas that Elain just went through. She lost her human life, she was Made, she lost her human fiance, was kidnapped and used as an experiment, ridiculed due to her nakedness and vulnerability, watched her sister being shoved into the Cauldron. Now she is presented with the fact that she was stripped off of her free will, and she still doesn't have freedom of choice. The lack of choice is evident, she just doesn't let it fall upon her as the trauma she had just endured was too great to even imagine how that declaration could shake her already broken heart.

“From my sister’s stories. Her friend.” “Yes.” But Elain blinked slowly. “You were in Hybern.” “Yes.” It was all he could say. “You betrayed us.”

Elain is aware of the fact that he was a part of her trauma. He was there when she got kidnapped and watched her being Made. She acknowledges the fact that he is partially responsible for what has happened to her and her sister. Not only Elain but Lucien as well. Lucien is also very much aware of the fact that he had contributed to her pain and hardship. Those feelings are also very prominent in the way he approaches her and behaves around her. The knowledge that she is that way because of his mistake.

FORCED RELATIONSHIP:

Both Elain and Lucien find themselves forced to "be" together. It wasn't a natural thing that happened between them, not a healthy type of bond snapping in its place. They were put together because of the Cauldron's decision.

She was nothing like Jesminda. Jesminda had been all laughter and mischief, too wild and free to be contained by the country life that she’d been born into. She had teased him, taunted him—seduced him so thoroughly that he hadn’t wanted anything but her. She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.

Even Lucien, who had loved and lost his previous lover acknowledges the fact that it is something that both of them didn't want. Their bond essentially stripped both of them of their free will. They hadn't chosen each other, they were just put together in a fickle decision of The Cauldron. His previous love story signalizes that Lucien also wants to be chosen, wants to be loved by someone who decided that he is the man that the other person wants to love and spend their life with him.

“I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.” And a whole lot of nothing.

Lucien has also his own issues - family feud, the fact that his friend betrayed him and in the end, it was him who did the same. He has troubles on his mind that are concerning. He's self-conscious in front of Elain because as Lucien is a reminder of her trauma - she is a reminder of his biggest mistake and another painful ending on his part. She's a living proof of his betrayal, how he went against his common sense and stabbed his friend, Feyre, in the back by bringing her sister into the scene.

The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.” She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride. A mortal man’s wife. Or she would have been.

He is aware of the fact that Elain doesn't feel anything for him, that she was promised to another and she had planned her life with that person. Just like him in the past - it was his choice to love, want, and need Jesminda. As he's trying to keep his composure the feelings of the bond swirl around, yet Lucien still understands that both of them ended up with something they didn't want.

“When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?” He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Even though they were "blessed" with this bond, the thread of it is weak and very unlike the other ones in SJM universe. As if it wasn't working properly - they both do not complete each other. Few pages before Elain says that she can hear Feyre's and Nesta's heartbeat and yet her mate can't hear hers? How is that possible? Also Lucien doesn't understand Elain - he sees her as someone who is devastated by her ruined human life, which is true, but right we as readers know by now that Elain was suffering because nobody seemed to realize what was wrong with her. Their first meeting doesn't spark hope for their future. It only showcases how wrong they both are for each other, two wounds plastered against each other.

BEING UNCOMFORTABLE AROUND EACH OTHER: Sadly both Elain and Lucien are pushed together by Feyre and her little meddling - which isn't something that they both want to undergo.

It was the most uncomfortable thirty minutes I could recall. (...) Pretending, while Lucien and Elain sat in stilted silence by the dim fireplace, an untouched tea service between them.

Even Feyre admits that a previously arranged get-together was a mistake. Because Lucien and Elain are wary of their presence around each other, they constantly remind each other's traumas and painful memories. Elain can barely stand his presence and Lucien is aware of that fact - the only thing that keeps him trying to break that barrier is their bond.

She rose to her feet, and Lucien shot to his. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “What—what was that?” Mor put a hand on my knee to keep me from rising, too. “It—it was a tug. On the bond.”

Even their mating bond isn't a thing of comfort. They can't navigate through it, both of them uncomfortable because of their proximity. Lucien feels as if he has to repay his debt towards Elain, however, neither of them wants to close the distance. Their wounds are still fresh, both of them not entirely healed. They are constantly rubbing their hurt on each other, meeting after meeting.

“Nothing,” he said, and again faced his mate. “I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.” Elain sidled toward Nesta, who seemed to be at a near-simmer. “It felt … strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.” Lucien exposed his palms to her. “I’m sorry“.

He feels guilty all the time he's around her. He can't navigate through the mating bond as it doesn't work properly. It's uncomfortable, hurtful, and tense. Just like the relationship between them, it is not a good thing. They are basically strangers thrown at each other after seeing the other person at their lowest. It's not a coincidence that the bond between them is a mirror to their rough, strained relation.

Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?”

Lucien just stared and stared at my sister, as if he’d never seen her before.

Even with the bond, Lucien can't understand what Elain needs. They are basically strangers, yet the bond doesn't do anything to him in regards to helping her. They are constantly uncomfortable around each other, they try to avoid each other throughout the series because of the fact that they both don't want to be in this forced relationship. Lucien feels obliged to keep persuading her due to the bond, whereas Elain wants nothing to do with the said bond. They are in a maze of constant avoidance and unbearable proximity, which is very soundly described in the text and I would like to present some very important passages:

He hadn’t mentioned Elain, or his proximity to her. Elain had not asked him to stay or to go. And whether she cared about the bruises on his face, she certainly hadn’t let on.

Elain, at least, would be too polite to send Lucien away when he wanted to help. She was too polite to send him away on a normal day. She just ignored him or barely spoke to him until he got the hint and left. As far as I knew, he hadn’t come within touching distance since the aftermath of that final battle.

No, as Elain took a step back, hand falling away from the doorknob, she revealed Lucien smiling tightly at us both. “Happy Solstice,” was all he said.

A sidelong glance toward Elain, swift and fleeting. “Both of you.” Elain said nothing, but at least she bowed her head in thanks.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.

My sister rose to her feet. “I should get refreshments.” Lucien rose as well. “No need to trouble yourself. I’m—” But she was already out of the room.

I would love to bring attention to the fact that Lucien understands and realizes that their relationships will never work. He acknowledges it in the text, with his own words!

"Give her time to accept it.” “To accept a life shackled to me?”

“Spend time with her.” “I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.” His jaw worked as he studied the fire.

He shook off my grip and headed for the door. “I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes."

ELAIN'S AGENCY: Throughout ACOWAR, ACOFAS and ACOSF Elain tries to get away from the bond and in conclusion also from Lucien himself. She doesn't acknowledge their bond and time after time she runs away from the fact that they are bound to each other. The thing is, Elain, probably doesn't know how to break their bond - we as readers are reminded in Azriel's POV how important their mating bond is for the Night Court, which makes her a sort of political pawn. It is yet another thing that is taken away from her, which to be honest is a kind of a hypocritical thing coming from Rhys and Feyre. We know that Elain is timid, however after slowly recovering from her trauma she started to voice out her discomfort connected to Lucien and their forced relationship.

I knew I wasn’t truly angry with her, not angry with anyone but myself, but I said, “You couldn’t say a single word to him? A pleasant greeting?” Elain only stared at the steaming kettle as she set it on the stone counter. “He brought you a present.” Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

Lucien still makes her uncomfortable, he is a constant reminder of her trauma and lost life. Another thing is that Lucien doesn't even know her, doesn't see her which is something that is very important to her. Everything he does is based on the fact that he is connected to her via mating bond, not by his own free choice. Which, again, is presented to us in her own words in the text:

“No.” I blinked. “But he is a good male.” Despite our harsh words. Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit. “He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.” “You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.” Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.”

It doesn't help that the one who pushes her forward into this spiral of unbearable proximity with someone she hadn't chosen and don't want to be around, is her own sister. Yet, she stands her ground and sets boundaries. She is her own person and she wants to get to chose. ELAIN AROUND LUCIEN:

I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment.

I found my sister in the kitchen, watching the kettle scream. “He’s not staying for tea,” I said.

I said to Lucien when we’d settled in the armchairs before the fire, Elain perched silently on the couch nearby.

I found my sister in the kitchen, watching the kettle scream. “He’s not staying for tea,” I said.

I said to Lucien when we’d settled in the armchairs before the fire, Elain perched silently on the couch nearby.

Elain had picked up the teacup, and now sipped from it without so much as looking toward him.

Elain only stared at him for a long moment. And any lucidity faded away as she shook her head, blinking twice (...).

He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap.

Elain now watched Lucien warily. Blinking every now and then.

He only glanced at Elain, whose face was again a calm void while she traced a finger over the embroidery on the couch cushions.

Their gazes locked and held. But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward.

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

As you can see Elain feels: - uncomfortable - on edge - withdrawn - wary - closed off - silenced (she always loses the will to speak around Lucien, going deeper inside of her) - melancholic (she watches as kettle boil without flinching as if she wandered in the maze of her mind). Elain loses her comfort and courage around Lucien, which is problematic and utterly sad to witness. He is a constant reminder for her of violation against her own free will, but also a living proof of her own trauma. LUCIEN AROUND ELAIN:

Lucien surveyed it all with cool indifference. What he felt about Elain, what he planned to do … I didn’t want to ask.

“I would never hurt her.” A bleak sort of honesty in his words.

He tried to sound casual—comfortable. Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet.

He didn’t expect her to answer, and he gave himself all of one more minute before he’d rise from this chair and leave.

Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once.

He wished she’d shoved him out the window behind her.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth.

“I think she went through something terrible,” Lucien countered carefully. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination.”

Lucien looked to her, then over to me. A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Nothing,” he said, and again faced his mate. “I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.”

Lucien exposed his palms to her. “I’m sorry.”

Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?”

Lucien silently slid into one of the chairs, before the window, that metal eye whirring as it roved over my sister.

Lucien just stared and stared at my sister, as if he’d never seen her before.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye —the longing and sadness.

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort.

Lucien feels: - uncomfortable - guilty - uneasy - confused (especially in the moments where Elain is having visions and he doesn't understand what's happening with her) - apologetic (he is constantly saying sorry to her) - tense

The guilt eats him every time he is around Elain, he is constantly apologizing while battling his inner problems such as remembering his true love. He was stripped off of his choice and even if the mating bond is there, he isn't happy. He is in constant pain just like Elain because both of them are each other wounds, each other reminder of trauma. They can't heal together because they are only happy when they are apart - Elain blooms in the Night Court, as we have read in ACOSF she is coming up with terms of Fae life and her own powers, adjusting her life to the notion of immortality. She is content and courageous and yet everything vanishes when Lucien is around. The same thing goes for Lucien. Lucien was struggling with her around him - he didn't know her, he didn't know what was happening to her as well. They were both strangers thrown at each other without their own say in this whole situation. Not to mention that their meetings were always arranged and supervised by others. When he sets on the journey to find Vassa he finds freedom and belonging - which was something he was battling in ACOWAR, after betraying his friends and his court, after being at odds in Night Court, and after being uncomfortable around his mate. He didn't have that sense of belonging in any of those things.

Elain and Lucien aren't compatible nor perfect for each other. They are constant reminders of traumas they experienced. They will never work out because they make each other miserable while being together, and they feel free and content apart. Their happiness lies with free choice, free will both of them were looking for in their lives. They are bound together against their own, and the only key for them being happy in this farce is setting themselves free. A choice of freedom. I strongly believe that after their rejection of the bond both of them could, perhaps, form a friendship. It would have been some sort of catharsis - to dwell upon the fact that they overcame that obstacle. That they chose to be happy apart, and not be shackled by this miserable bond.

#anti elucien #pro elain #pro elain archeron #elain archeron #acotar #i mean technically this is pro elriel #elriel #anti forced bond #elain and lucien as friends #not mates #also pls be civil in the comments

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athousandtinystars · 4 years ago

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.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡ephemeral ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

summary: sometimes things don’t go according to plan

warnings: tartaglia / gn!reader | angst

word count: ~1530

sfw content under the cut | 18+ | minors dni

“here, let me help with the silverware.” his mom had cooked a spread of food fit for a banquet, the least you could do was help set the table. you were curious as to the occasion, you could feel the excitement thrumming through the air. whatever it is has to be big. even his older siblings were present, a feat in itself.

“oh nonsense, darling. you’re a guest, i couldn’t possibly let you do that. go sit with your honey at the table, we’ll be ready in just a couple of minutes.” she shoos you out of the kitchen with a smile and you laugh and do as she had said. when you sit next to ajax, he’s tense, a little fidgety. you quirk an eyebrow at him, a silent ‘are you okay?’ to which he responds by taking your nearest hand in his and squeezing gently.

he brings your joined hands together and presses a kiss to several of your knuckles, his younger siblings groaning and ‘ew’ing at him being mushy and earning a laugh from the two of you. you stick your tongue out at them playfully and they all giggle, teucer and anthon stick out their tongues while tonia rolls her eyes and laughs.

moments later, the last of the main meal has arrived at the table and everyone begins to dig in hungrily. you all make easy conversation with each other, having been acquainted for so many years.

before long everyone is finished eating and the topic of dessert is brought up. ajax’s mother laughs and agrees to bring it out momentarily, but states there’s something important that needs to be said first.

ajax shares a look with his parents and the three of them come to an understanding or agreement of some kind, his father nods at him approvingly. ajax stands up and away from his chair and you look up at him.

“we’ve been in each other’s lives for so long now, that i feel like this may be long overdue. i remember back when we were still mischievous children, causing trouble for the townspeople, getting into trouble almost daily; but we’ve always had each other’s backs.”

you smile at him and nod.

he continues, “you’ve seen me at my worst; you comfort me on the bad nights when i wake up in a cold sweat, when i’m still stuck in my nightmares. you hold me and bring me back to you, back to reality, never angry over losing sleep. you always treat me with such care and unwavering kindness, even when i’m not quite myself and far beyond a pain to deal with. i won’t pretend i’m perfect, and i’m so incredibly happy that you choose to stay with me despite my shortcomings.”

you realize that his family are all sitting at the edges of their seats, his younger siblings bouncing excitedly in their chairs, his older siblings smiling on with what appears to be immense pride.

“it warms my heart to see how well you’ve fit into our family, how much you all love each other. you’re so good with my siblings despite their troublemaking nature, you keep up with their energy and sometimes i’m not even sure just how you manage to. you’re patient with them when their natural curiosity gets the better of them and they fire question after question at you.

you’re so patient with me, even when it comes to my work. i remember when i had to cancel our vacation plans due to an unexpected deployment, you were understanding and compassionate. you had every right to be angry, but you weren’t. i know with work, i’m always sent so far away for so long, but you always wait for me. there were nights where i’d dream that i came home to an empty house, with you and all of your things gone, but you’ve always been there for me when i come back.”

he gets down on one knee and pulls out a lavishly decorated box with the ring of your dreams inside. it’s clear that he spared no expense.

i truly cannot picture my life without you in it, so would you do me the immense honor of marrying me?”

your throat feels dry, words failing to come to your lips. this is what you wanted, isn’t it? a doting man who loves you all of his heart down on one knee with the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen in your life. a man that you’ve loved for all of your life, one who’s always done his best to treat you right even when it was difficult for him. so why did this all feel so wrong? was it always this hot in here?

the room is quiet, waiting for your response, but you’re left reeling and unable to form a sentence. you can see the concern written all over his face, even when he’s nervous and vulnerable he’s worried for your well-being. the silence drags on for what feels like hours into something tense and uncomfortable but you still can’t bring yourself to answer him.

“sweetheart?” his tone is gentle, caring, worried, anxious, afraid.

‘i…” you can feel their eyes glued to you, watching, waiting. why does this feel so wrong? Your thoughts are racing, trying to pinpoint exactly why you feel this way. no logical reason comes to mind, so why? is it because it’s so sudden? is it because his whole family is watching? there’s no reason to say no, so why can’t you say yes?

“no,” you breathe out quietly, almost going unheard.

no.

“n-... no?” hurt and confusion settle themselves into his features. “i... is it the timing? we can wait until you’re ready, i won’t mind at all,” he offers, hope laced in with the fear. he’s trying so hard to maintain his composure. the two of you had only been dating for a little over a year, but you’ve been close all your lives. he would wait an eternity if it meant your happiness, he just wants to be by your side.

“no, ajax.”

no, ajax. your answer echoes in his head over and over and over again.

before he can piece his thoughts together, you rise from your chair, grab your things, and walk out the door. you leave him still kneeling on the floor, devastated, his heart pounding in his ears, he feels like he can’t breathe. he hasn’t felt this weight on his chest in months now, like something has reached into his lungs and crushed them, tightness barely allowing for any intake of air.

by the time he’s recovered and out the door after you, he has a fair bit of distance to cover and takes off running after you, frigid snezhnayan air stinging his lungs. once he’s close enough for you to hear him, he shouts for you.

“wait! please!” you stop in your tracks, wait for him to catch up. he’s panting and out of breath, but he doesn’t stop to catch his breath before speaking. “please, can we talk about this? was there something i did wrong? i just… please, please help me understand. you’re important to me, i love you. please let me fix this.” you can hear the desperation in his tone.

he’s trying so so hard to hold himself together, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. he tries to blink them away, but they just end up falling, freezing to his cheeks.

“ajax... i…” you trail off, uncertain of what to say to him. “..you didn’t do anything wrong.” he inhales shakily and opens his mouth as though he’s about to say something, but you begin walking away from him before he can. he doesn’t move to follow you.

“then why?” you continue walking. “is there anything i can do to fix this?” you stop and turn back to him. he’s a man on the brink of ruin, you mean the world to him.

i truly cannot picture my life without you in it, so would you do me the immense honor of marrying me?

“...”

“please..” he looks like he’s going to fall apart on the spot. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so broken before. not even when he’s come home severely injured, not even when he came back from the abyss. his next words come out sounding utterly defeated, he seems to know there’s no changing your mind but he tries anyways. “i’ll do anything, please.. we can figure this out, we- we can-” he chokes out a sob, “please, talk to me.” tears are cascading freely down his face, any trace of the light that had been restored to his eyes in recent months flickering back out.

you shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “i can’t do this, ajax. i can’t do this anymore.” he crumples, landing hard on his knees; you can’t help but notice how dishearteningly adjacent it is to how he was just minutes before. he wants to understand, but you have no explanation to offer him.

and so he watches you walk away from him for the second time that night, for the last time.

#tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #angst #｡･:*:･ﾟangst #｡･:*:･ﾟwriting #｡･:*:･ﾟsfw

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micasaessakusa · 5 years ago

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Faults

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader Genre: Angst Word Count: 2.421 words

It’s his fault, Akaashi thinks.

How and why he thought you would ever be satisfied with a man like him was beyond him. He guesses it’s his own fault for letting himself believe that he was worthy enough of your attention, deserving enough to be picked, simply enough to replace the one before him - the one who held your heart.

And now as he stares at you and him, he realizes - the man in front of you still holds your heart.

For all his insecurities, Akaashi recognizes that it wasn’t entirely his fault why he became so enamored with you. How could he not be, when for the past three years you’ve been showering him with affection, looking into his eyes as if he’s the only man you’ll ever love, and letting him love you as if you wholly trusted him to not break your heart?

But who’s he kidding? He can’t really blame you for what he’s feeling. And he can’t blame you for his mistake of being washed along by the waves of delight to the point where he became blind to the truth.

It’s so obvious, isn’t it? He’s not compatible with you. Anyone with eyes can see it, but it was just so blissful in the bubble he was in that he didn’t realize he couldn’t give you what you really need.

You’re exuberant, he’s reserved. You like to socialize, whereas he prefers his alone time.

Overall, you were polar opposites, and the only thing he had in common with you was volleyball. Well, you even went different paths with that - he pursued literature after college while you went on to compete in the professional leagues.

So really, the only thing that held you together was the faraway memory of being high school classmates and playing for your respective teams in Fukurodani.

A sad smile graces his lips as he sees you with him - Oikawa Tooru - the ever perfect gentleman, a successful volleyball player, and also your ex-fiance. Akaashi sits still in his car as he watches you and Oikawa inside the cafe, the way your face practically lights up when you talk to him, and how the man in front of you effortlessly matches your energy.

And while it pains Akaashi to admit it, it’s clear to him that that is what compatibility is. You and Oikawa just fit so well together, he’d be a fool to deny it.

It strikes his heart harder than he would’ve liked, but now he understands how you and the setter got to the point of marriage, well, almost-marriage. But really, the only reason you and Oikawa aren’t together anymore was because of his dreams. And if Akaashi really did get to know you in the time you spent together, then he could confidently say that you’ll forgive Oikawa without a beat’s hesitation if he so much as breathes a ghost of an apology towards your way.

After all, as a passionate athlete yourself, you understand perfectly well how important Oikawa’s dream is to him.

It’s still clear as day to Akaashi, how subdued you were when he saw you again after years. The MSBY Black Jackals hung out fairly often and as a close friend, Akaashi was always invited. It just so happened that the men’s team did promotional activities with the women’s team and that’s when he got reunited with you.

You were different then, to put it bluntly.

Akaashi spent a lot of time with you in high school, and back then, you were this bright, loud, unstoppable force, much like his best friend Bokuto. People even took to calling you and Koutarou siblings because of how similar you two were. So when he saw how quiet you were in the few times you went out with the MSBY team, he was a bit shocked.

It wasn’t his business, though, and Akaashi respected the change. He figured it must have been a personal preference of yours, but really, it wasn’t his place to think too much about it.

But words go around especially when it involves two renowned names, and he later found out about how you got engaged to Oikawa a couple of years ago only for it to be broken when he left for Argentina. You were devastated, said Bokuto.

In your time with MSBY, you’ve gotten close with his best friend again, and in turn, with him too. He saw how closed off you became, how just utterly sad you were, and how you had a hard time opening up again to those around you.

However, time was forgiving to you, and you soon found yourself back on your feet, ready to stand back up and burn even brighter than before.

Akaashi smiles as he remembers how brave you were the whole time. Even then at your lowest, you pushed forward, intent to rise on your own two feet to tackle the world. But just a week ago, it was like he was turned back in time when news broke out that Oikawa Tooru was back in the country.

You were restless, distracted. You tried to mask the conflict you were feeling, but Akaashi, being observant as he was, saw it all in your eyes. And now as he witnesses you engulf Oikawa in a tight hug, he breathes out.

He knows what he has to do.

Maneuvering his car away from his spot, he drives back to your shared apartment. The whole way through, his brain keeps repeating the scene of you burying your face to Oikawa’s chest, your grip tight on his back, while the setter has his arms around you as if he doesn’t want to let you go ever again.

And Akaashi understands, even though it pains him. He understands because who would want to let you go when you’ve given your heart to them?

It hurts.

But again, he thinks it’s his fault for fooling himself that he could be enough for you. Who is he to stop you from seeking happiness with your first love? With your true love?

No one, that’s who he is. He will set aside his own selfish needs if it means you could be with the one you want to be with. After all, wasn’t it his selfishness that brought him to this situation in the first place?

He knew Oikawa had - still has - your heart, but Akaashi still selfishly loved you with all of himself.

Stopping in front of the unit, he cuts the engine off and braces himself before he leaves his car. The walk towards your apartment seems like eternity, his feet dragging along the floor as if he’s being pulled down by the earth. And he might as well have been, if the heaviness in his heart is any indication.

He has to do this, he keeps reminding himself. But as much as he knows he should let you go, just a mere second of thought about a day without you already has his heart ripping into shreds.

Picking up a sticky note from the counter, he writes a short note to you.

‘I’ll get my belongings tomorrow during your training. I really wish you happiness, [Y/N].’

And in a moment of vulnerability, Akaashi writes his final i love you at the bottom, taking his engagement ring off and putting it on top of the note.

He doesn’t waste time lingering in your unit and promptly drives away to his own apartment, one that’s been untouched for a long time, as he’s been naturally spending more time with you in your shared home.

And there, in the solitude of his own space, he weeps.

He lets the tears fall as he bites his knuckles to try to cover up the sobs that wrack his chest. He thinks of the happy memories he had with you, and he thinks of how thankful he is that you allowed him to be part of your life even for a short period of time.

But he also thinks of what would have happened had he not driven to join the team dinner that day after the MSBY promotional event. What would have happened if he wasn’t running late to the dinner? If he didn’t see you exiting the restaurant where the team was, only for you to enter the cafe across the street? What would have happened if he didn’t see Oikawa greeting you with a bright smile of his - one that’s far more genuine than what he shows to other people?

As he sits tiredly on his couch, head rested on the back of the sofa, he thinks it’s better this way.

Just imagining you be the one to end the relationship already has him tearing up even more. He knows he wouldn’t be able to hide his emotions from you if you tell him face to face that you’re cutting off your engagement with him to get back together with Oikawa.

It’s better this way, he tries to convince himself. But really, in a situation like this, a voice inside his head echoes that there is no “better” nor “good” because it spells nothing but a broken heart for him.

Akaashi awakes with a start, disoriented and groggy from abruptly waking up. He groans from an oncoming headache as he reaches for his phone on the coffee table to check the time, not even realizing that he fell asleep on the couch in the first place.

He sees it’s a little past midnight and judging from the steady sound of downpour from outside, it’s most likely raining hard.

Closing his eyes to relieve his headache, he moves to recline on the couch again and just as he rests his head on the plush pillow, a loud knock sounds from the door.

It must have been what woke him up in the first place, he belatedly thinks. Akaashi moves towards the door, his still-muddled brain trying to think of who’s visiting him this late in the night.

When he opens the door, he isn’t prepared - not one bit - to see the sight that greets him.

There you are, drenched from the rain head to toe and still wearing the clothes he saw you in earlier that day. Your eyes burn intensely as you gaze at him, and there’s a noticeable redness to them that assured him you had been crying.

Still crying, he confirms, as he sees tears still rolling down your cheeks in thick rivulets.

You’re shaking, from the cold or from anger, he’s not too sure, but he notices you clutching onto something, your right hand enclosed in a fist as you hold it protectively towards your chest as if it’s your only lifeline.

He urges himself to say something, anything, and as the first word breaks free from his lips, you beat him to it.

“I love you, Keiji!” you yell at him, your voice thick with emotion and your throat clogging up with a sob, but you continue.

“I know I don’t deserve you. You’re kind, sincere, genuine, intelligent, devoted, you have all the good qualities in the world. You were there for me when I was at my lowest, you supported me on my journey back up. You were there. You were always there for me. And when we started to develop something special, something we shared between only you and I, I was ecstatic. I can’t even form in words how thankful I am for you, and how forever grateful I’ll be that you let me into your life. And when you proposed--,” another sob escapes your lips, as you bring a hand up to wipe at your tears, you see him move to come near you, but you put a hand up to stop him.

“When you proposed, I was happy-- the happiest I’ve ever been, because you gave me the privilege to be by your side forever. You gave me peace, Keiji. After a long time, I’ve finally found my peace and you were the one who supported me all throughout,” you keep your teary gaze on him as you take in a deep breath.

“I understand if you don’t want me anymore. I mean, how could you? I’m broken from my past relationship and you deserve way more than a woman who’s still held back by a failed relationship. I know you know that I met up with Tooru today. Kou told me he saw you. But I just want you to hear this from me- Tooru gave me the closure I needed, we’re finally over. But you deserve so much more than a partner with so many scars.”

More tears cascade down your cheeks and Akaashi is rendered even more speechless when he sees the thing clutched in your palm. You extend your hand to him, showing him the ring he left at your house earlier that day.

“I love you so much, Keiji. I know you probably wouldn’t want this around, but please, keep it,” you whisper as you shakily hand him the ring back. “I know it’s selfish of me to ask this, but I don’t think I could take it if you cut me off from your life entirely--”

Your words are halted as he pulls you towards his strong embrace, his arms encasing you in his warm and familiar hold. And even in your state of shock, he knows you could feel the tears falling from his eyes as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

He sobs and he lets it all out. His fear of you leaving him, how for a long moment he thought you were going to leave him for someone else.

He tells you how his heart was gripped by the fear of being let into your life only to be tossed out because he’s not worthy of you.

And with each tearful word that comes past his lips, his heart feels lighter.

With each whispered assurance you give him amidst your sobs, and with each declaration of love shared only between the two of you, Keiji’s heart becomes at peace. And there in your warm and loving embrace, he understands.

Now, he fully understands the peace in his heart.

It was never about compatibility. He chose you, and you chose him.

It was about the two of you choosing each other out of devotion and trust, even in the face of all the odds.

With tears still streaming down his face, Akaashi Keiji smiles because now, he understands.

#Gabe writes!!#Haikyuu #Akaashi #Akaashi Keiji #Haikyuu x Reader #Akaashi x Reader #Akaashi Keiji x Reader #Haikyuu angst #Akaashi angst #Akaashi Keiji angst

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sonnet009 · 4 years ago

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Wilder: Jamal’s Story (Route Summary)

PROLOGUE:

MC decides to flee Ziya alone. A rotund wine merchant named Barlow offers her a timely rescue, smuggling her out in one of the wagons in his caravan. On their journey across the Shining Sands MC learns that Barlow is a wealthy and ambitious man who can afford not only a team of djinn guards but even a pleasure slave. It is this pleasure slave who warns MC that Barlow intends to ransom her back to Ziya and urges her to leave the caravan. Though afraid, MC chooses to stay rather than risk facing the desert alone. Jamal is not pleased at the prospect of continuing to share his wagon.

CHAPTER I:

The caravan stops so Barlow can take his dinner out under the stars. MC joins him and Jamal while the djinn guards keep watch. Barlow is very blatant about his sexual relationship with Jamal and Jamal for his part fawns over Barlow in return. MC has never seen anything like it. Left alone for a few moments, Jamal teases MC that she can't keep her eyes off him.

During the next day's travel the caravan is attacked by a raiding group of djinn come down from the Western Hills. The djinn guards rally around Barlow to protect him but change their minds when the leader of the wild djinn offers them a free life with the tribe. Barlow and MC are pushed onto their knees, faces in the sand, and Barlow is beheaded. MC hears Jamal's horrified gasp.

MC does not share Barlow's fate. She is restrained and brought back to the Hills with the tribe and their new recruits. She is not sure why, but feels in her heart that this is no salvation.

CHAPTER II:

While the new djinn are welcomed into the tribe, Jamal sneaks over to where MC has been tied. He probes her about her rich, important family and muses that she must have connections in Umar. Though he knew she was fleeing Ziya he doesn't seem to have the full story – he certainly doesn't know that MC is an accused murderer and therefore utterly without connections or power.

After a ritual in which each new djinn must eat a piece of a raw deer heart, the disgusted Jamal has had enough. In the dead of night he frees MC in return for her promise to take him to Umar. They catch their breath by the river but are soon discovered by one of the ex-guards whose disdain for Jamal the pleasure slave is obvious. He calls out for the rest of the tribe and MC and Jamal run.

The tribe pursues them far, all the way to the base of the mountainous Knives. With little other choice, MC and Jamal head up – away from the Hills but only into more danger.

CHAPTER III:

MC offers condolences for Barlow's death. Jamal is dismissive and MC realises that though he appeared to adore the man it was all just an act. He doesn't miss Barlow, just the security that being his personal slave offered. Jamal insists that MC is his master now, though MC insists that she is not. Jamal reveals his intention for MC to sell him to a famous pleasure house in Umar, and for that she has to be his master.

Jamal whines and gripes the whole way up the mountain path. In contrast, MC finds a fortitude within herself she never knew she had. In the night he attempts to seduce her though she rebuffs him, saying, “I told you, you don't need to do that.” The next day they stumble into the path of a mountain lion. Jamal hides behind MC while she scares it away.

They come across a hot spring and MC spends most of her time trying to avoid looking at Jamal's naked and shameless displays designed to get her attention. But when he asks her to wash his hair it is with genuine, vulnerable wanting so she does so. It is the most intimate moment MC has ever shared with anyone.

CHAPTER IV:

In the sprawling farmland on the other side of the mountains, MC and Jamal are caught in a sudden downpour. Sheltering in an old barn, they share a sweet, quiet moment that turns into an argument when she once again refuses to claim him as her slave. MC is secretly very drawn to Jamal, but fears that his affection is all a lie and that she will be taking advantage of their positions if she lets herself believe him. He accuses her of looking down on him and gives her the cold shoulder. This means that MC has missed another chance to confess that she is not the connected noblewoman he believes her to be.

As they continue on their journey in strained silence, a group of bandits appear and block their path. MC is afraid but not as afraid as Jamal. However, when one of the men grabs MC and makes lewd comments, Jamal exclaims, “Hey!” surprising no one more than himself. As the scene turns to violence, MC and Jamal learn that even a light slap from a djinn whose claws have been growing for weeks can be devastating to a human body. MC thanks Jamal for his protection while he desperately tries to get the blood out from under his nails.

They finally make it to Dijarah, a port town where MC intends to board a ship sailing for Umar. The one problem? She has no money.

CHAPTER V:

To earn money in Dijarah, an innkeeper agrees to hire MC and Jamal to work in the kitchen. Jamal is aghast at the prospect, especially when he meets the old battleaxe of a cook on whom his charms utterly fail. Jamal is terrible at every practical task put before him and, after only a few days, is utterly miserable.

MC is gentle and encouraging with Jamal, and he eventually is able to put aside his pride (a little) and improve. He finds it amusing to think of a world in which he worked here instead of as a pleasure slave. But when MC takes this question seriously he balks and insists that he would never want an unglamorous life like this. “I know what I am,” he says quietly.

As the two grow closer, Jamal tells MC the story of his life. Bred illegally and born sick, Jamal was passed under the table from master to master, role to role, failing at all of them. Finally dumped in a pleasure house as an insult, Jamal actually flourished there – able to put his natural charm and artistic talents to use. That is why he cannot even consider another life. MC asks if he would choose the same life if he were a free man. Jamal goes quiet and does not answer.

CHAPTER VI:

One day MC walks into the kitchen to see Jamal scrubbing pots with all his might then absent mindedly tidying up some things – not as part of his assigned task but just because it needs doing. MC announces herself and they compare their palm callouses and growing arm muscle. One night Jamal is asked to perform for the inn's patrons by playing the lute – he is giddy with excitement to be the centre of attention once more, though the audience is not his usual clientele. He plays and sings beautifully and MC sets off a standing ovation that nearly makes him cry.

An evening shift turns tense when a group of drunkards start causing trouble. Jamal shocks everyone by taking charge of the situation and intimidating them into leaving. Though, as soon as they are gone, his legs turn to liquid and he slides to the floor declaring how terrifying the whole thing was. The innkeeper draws him a hot bath in thanks. Jamal asks MC to wash his hair again. Though she won't join him in the tub – despite his persistence – Jamal does wash and style her hair for her in return.

Finally MC and Jamal have enough money to book passage on a ship. As they are boarding MC catches sight of Hamza in the crowded street. She drags Jamal away to avoid getting caught, though now she is less afraid of being arrested than she is being exposed to Jamal who still doesn't know that she is a fugitive. She resolves that she must tell him soon, even if it ruins the... friendship... that seems to finally be blossoming between them.

CHAPTER VII:

Hamza has also boarded so MC spends most of her time hiding in her cabin – and Jamal has no objections to passing the days relaxing on a soft bed. She tries many times to broach his misconceptions about her but is consistently thwarted by interruptions and her own cowardice. A rich passenger tries to buy some time with Jamal from MC but she staunchly refuses. Jamal is delighted by this, then confused as to why he is so delighted.

One night they lie side by side on the bed and MC asks Jamal why he is so set on being sold to this particular brothel. He explains that, not only is it a famous venue, but if they purchase him then by Umar’s laws he will no longer be a slave but an indentured servant. MC says that isn’t good enough – she wants to free him. Jamal is dismissive of such an impossible idea but MC insists that Lord Yasir, the most powerful man in Umar, could surely help them. Jamal asks why MC would be seeking Yasir’s help for herself and she prepares to finally tell him the truth when– the ship’s bell rings. They have arrived.

Hamza catches sight of MC at just the wrong moment. She drags Jamal off the ship, pushing past everyone else, and manages to lose Hamza in the moonlit streets of Umar. They come to Minerva’s Pleasure House. Inside is a whole new world to MC but Jamal is in his element. Then he goes quiet. “I don’t want you to leave me here. I want to stay with you. I want to be–”. The madam interrupts, realises exactly who MC is, and throws her and Jamal out of the place, calling MC a murderer and threatening to tell the authorities if either of them ever return.

CHAPTER VIII:

MC hurries to Yasir’s estate, a confused and suspicious Jamal with her, and fortunately finds the merchant-turned-lord to be very welcoming and willing to provide sanctuary. Jamal confronts MC and she finally admits everything. Jamal is devastated. He accuses her of using him, of dragging him through danger and hardship just for the amusement of it, of being just as rotten as Barlow and the others. “You think so little of me. You think nothing of me.” MC cannot explain her actions without admitting – to Jamal and to herself – that she has been falling in love with him. Jamal is stunned. Then he turns and leaves the manor.

He returns in the morning and apologises for leaving, kissing MC on the cheek and saying that he understands she was only doing what she had to do – she’s a survivor. He turns down MC’s attempts to make him a free man and instead asks Yasir to use his influence to place him in the pleasure house. “No more pretending,” he says in response to MC’s protestations. “I know what I am.” Yasir arranges for the madam to accept him as an indentured servant.

MC and Jamal say a fraught goodbye in the gaudy room that is to be Jamal’s from now on. Jamal kisses MC and, at his soft declaration that he has fallen in love with her too, she gives in to her passion and they come together in a tangle of flesh and emotion. After, as they lie in bed, the door is kicked down and in bursts Hamza to arrest MC. Jamal is remarkably unsurprised. “I should’ve known it was all a lie from the beginning. All those things you said about my potential. Trying to make me doubt who I am; what I am. But you know something, mistress?” There is nothing but cold resolve in his eyes. “I’m a survivor too.”

CHAPTER IX:

MC is transported back to Ziya to face her execution. She spends the journey thinking on Jamal. That night he left the manor he must have gone to Hamza to arrange the ambush. Anger and betrayal come in cycles but always give way to regret and the knowledge that she brought this on herself. MC’s execution is a public event on the steps of the shah’s palace, but the proceedings are suddenly interrupted by Jamal and Yasir’s right-hand-djinn Royo. Since MC was under Umar’s protection, Ziya’s actions in abducting her have been taken as a hostile act. Hamza takes justice into his own hands and attacks MC with his sword. Jamal tries to protect her but she pushes him away, taking the blade in her chest.

MC wakes in her old bedroom in her Aunt and Uncle’s villa. The blade missed her heart and, though badly wounded, she will live. Jamal is by her bedside. He asserts that he hasn’t forgiven her, and he’ll never forgive himself, but he wants her to know that Hamza was the one who caught and pressured him into the betrayal that night, and Jamal convinced himself that she deserved it. But he regretted it immediately and went running to Yasir for help. He confesses that he wasn’t lying when he said he’d fallen in love with her. He thinks that’s their shared fatal flaw – they’re dreamers.

When MC next wakes quite a lot of time has passed. This time it is Royo who comes to see her, informing her that the political pressure from Umar – and Yasir specifically – has worked. To avoid trouble between the two cities, Ziya has agreed not to execute MC but to exile her. Royo must return to Umar now but says that MC is welcome there once she is well enough to travel. MC asks after Jamal but Royo shakes her head. He is waiting by the carriage to leave and will not return to the villa. MC asks Royo to take something with her when she goes – a letter addressed to the madam of Minerva’s.

BITTER END:

When Jamal sees her in Minerva’s he covers his shock by asking if she is there to taste him once again. They go to his room and MC interrupts his cold, emotionless seduction with the last of the money he needs to truly be free. He insists at first to not want it then finally cracks open, tears spilling down his cheeks. “But where would I go?” MC says he can go with her if he likes. He doesn’t answer, conflicted, still so afraid to trust. MC backs off and says he can go wherever he wants to go; anywhere in the world. She leaves the pleasure house but lingers outside, hoping that when Jamal comes out a free man he will choose to go with her after all.

SWEET END:

Two years have passed since the almost-execution and MC has been travelling ever since, working tirelessly in whatever jobs she can in order to save money and send it periodically to Minerva’s to bit by bit pay off Jamal’s “debt” to the pleasure house. However when she journeys to Umar with the final payment she is informed by the madam that Jamal has already been freed from his contract and left months ago. MC turns to Royo for help, who informs her that Jamal had also been working hard to pay for his freedom – taking on extra chores and responsibilities at Minerva's – and that last she knew he was heading for Dijarah.

MC sets sail immediately. When she disembarks at Dijarah’s docks she is stunned to find Jamal waiting, Royo having sent word ahead. There is a tense moment of uncertainty then Jamal launches himself at her, catching her in a tight embrace. He thanks her for contributing so much to buying his freedom and says he’s never worked so hard for anything before – for the chance to live a free life. To stand before MC as an equal. To say he loves her and for it to be the simple truth. Hand-in-hand, Jamal escorts MC to his new place of employment – the inn in which they spent so much time before. He winks. “I hear they're hiring. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

#Wilder #Jamal #Route Summary

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winchestermendesgirl · 5 years ago

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Supernatural’s Legacy: The Trauma of Silence

Understanding the unique grief of Supernatural fans, and the power of stories to liberate and to punish. [Warning: spoilers for season fifteen of Supernatural]

(By Deirdre-t on Buzzfeed)

In the wake of Supernatural’s controversially underwhelming finale last Thursday, many fans are left adrift, angry, and deeply hurt. They are left grappling with an ending that blindsided them, not only leaving the traumatic death of a canonically queer lead emotionally unresolved but going so far as to scrub the character and all evidence of the decade-built queer romantic plot from the finale, mere episodes after a celebrated and victorious on-screen love confession between Castiel and Dean Winchester.

They were given a shell of a finale that saw all suggestion of queerness removed, all sense of heart and chosen family eliminated. Even the relationship between Sam and Eileen, too deeply tied to the themes of the queer love story, was dropped, dealing the added blow of abandoning a disabled character in favor of a random, unidentified partner for Sam.

Fans are, to put it simply, devastated.

And through all of their reactions, as people are processing their disappointment, grief, and rug-pulling confusion, one accusation stings so very clearly and pointedly for queer fans:

You’re just mad because you didn’t get your ship.

No.

The legacy of Supernatural and its finale’s impact goes so much deeper than fans of Dean and Castiel’s pairing not getting their way. This isn’t about a ship.

This is about stories, and the intricate ways in which they become part of us and our world– the ways our lives and struggles are reflected, subverted, and reinforced.

This is about a story and characters that people deeply connected with, a story that people let into their hearts and souls, devoted their time and love to because they saw themselves in it and had faith that they might be worth something to it in return. They had faith that once, just once, they would get what they deserve in this world, that they would see themselves treated with dignity, respect, and love. They had faith that the story being told would be finished, that the emotional catharsis and resolution they had waited fifteen years for– the resolution that so many have been denied in their own lives– would be granted. It was not.

And not only did Supernatural deny this resolution, it actively regressed every moment of growth that led to it. It spat in the face of its own themes: found family, choice, unconquerable love, self-determination and acceptance, freedom from the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that seek to control and suppress us. Themes that people connected with because they are real to them. Themes whose treatment impacts them. Whose reflections on their lives are tangible.

Whether it was the writers or the suits, creatives or executives ultimately responsible, Supernatural gutted this journey and took characters who were stand-ins for vulnerable people and denied them their truth and closure. They set up clear, beautiful, meaningful endings– I would go so far to say the narrative promised them– and they burned it all down. Unapologetically, cruelly, and yes, homophobically.

This affects people’s lives. This is real.

The treatment of Castiel, Dean, and their love story, and the ultimate messages of their endings, are unconscionable.

Castiel is a stand-in for viewers suffering from depression, PTSD, self-worth issues, isolation, alienation. His story is about breaking free from abusive and controlling circumstances and building a family who loves you and chooses you for who you are, and learning to believe in that love. His arc is about feeling unloved and unworthy, feeling like no one around you could possibly want you for who you are and sacrificing your own wants and needs to earn the small bit of space you dare to take up. Believing this all your life and slowly learning that it isn’t true. Learning that you are wanted, that you have worth, inherently, just by being you.

Castiel’s story built to a point where he specifically needed to hear this from Dean. From the one person who he chose, whose love was quite literally the foundational starting point of his journey to autonomy and self-acceptance. The narrative demanded this in order for Castiel to finally believe in and live his whole truth, in order to reach the end of his arc. It set up a simple need: someone who has never understood the love they have been given, the love they deserve, must be told that they have it and deserve it.

Instead, not only was this journey to accepted, reciprocated love and ultimate self-actualization left unfinished, its ending point on screen was a premature and self-sacrificial death. This is Supernatural, so I am not talking about death in the sense that it is innately bad, because more often than not in the show it is transformative, transcendent. I am talking about the death of his character in the sense that he truly and permanently is not allowed to experience another moment of growth. That he is punished by the story for expressing his truth, that his journey toward internal and external love and worth ultimately leads to him giving himself and that love up, and this is never meaningfully subverted.

Castiel dies by finally letting himself speak his truth– by allowing a moment of actualization that is never rewarded with experiencing the thing he has finally let himself admit he wants. That is never rewarded with actually experiencing the acceptance, love, and reciprocal choice that we have spent over a decade waiting for with him. Castiel, our stand-in character for overcoming depression, alienation, and self-hatred, confesses that he is in love with a man and is so filled with the happiness of this love, so fully actualized in his identity– his love, his queerness, his acceptance of self– that it kills him.

His depression personified consumes him in the vulnerability of his happiness, and he is never heard from in a meaningful way again. His journey is utterly unacknowledged emotionally by the family who he was journeying to, by the man whose love he died for. His intrinsically queer story ends with that queerness literally killing him. Because taking this power for yourself, taking control of your life and claiming love as your own, must be punished.

This could all have had meaning. It was supposed to. This was set up to be subverted, the dark before the dawn, with Cas’s actualization honored by a confirmation of reciprocal love (be it romantic, familial, platonic, whatever, his arc is utterly unfinished without this) and a peaceful eternity spent as a fully realized soul. The consumption of the shadow subverted by integration with it, by wholeness and love consuming it in return. Instead, he is left off screen, given an offhand mention of an unexplored move to heaven, and is never shown to experience any sort of love or reciprocity from the family he built or the man he loves again. The message, in the end, is clear, no matter what the original intention was. Speak your truth, and it will silence you. Live your truth, and it will punish you.

Dean, too, is silenced and buried by his ending. Like Cas, Dean’s character is a stand-in for people suffering from trauma and abuse, for people who have had their personhood diminished and sacrificed by their families and circumstances, for those who have been harmed and pushed aside by the very people in their lives who are supposed to love and protect them. Dean’s story is about learning to overcome the limitations placed on you by others’ expectations, learning to value your own wants, needs, and dreams when you’ve been told your whole life they don’t matter. It’s about letting go of the toxicity that a cruel world will imprint upon your soul– distilling yourself and your truth from the darkness that corrupts you when you’ve experienced the world and all of its ugliness, when you have had insurmountable pain inflicted on you and have dealt that pain back in return.

His story is about learning that you can love and be loved, and that this love does not have to come at the expense of your autonomy or identity. It’s about accepting that you are not your worst moments, you are not your flaws; that there is someone within you who is worthy of forgiveness and life, who is inherently good.

Dean’s arc was built to a point where speaking his truth and choosing to live it were integral to its resolution. And this truth could only be one thing, the narrative demanded one specific ending that would do this for him. This truth was that he loved Castiel, that he wanted to be with him. This truth fundamentally symbolized Dean finally taking control of his life and choosing the one person who had always chosen him in return, whose love reflected and rewarded every aspect of Dean’s growth and journey to selfhood.

Speaking this truth to Castiel, to the person who loved him for exactly who he was, who always saw his light even through the darkest moments of his soul, the person whose love is established as the only thing that ever truly grew outside of God’s control– the only thing that was REAL– was fundamental to Dean finally accepting his own goodness and the value of his love, of his identity, and breaking free of the structure that had controlled and corrupted him his entire life to experience something of his own. Dean loving Castiel in return is how he could finally love himself, because this love at its core symbolizes freedom, truth, forgiveness, choice, and the overwhelming power of the soul.

But Dean never gets to experience this. Dean is never freed.

In the end, Dean learns that Castiel loves him and has always seen his true self, and then he never gets to live that truth. He goes right back to the life he has spent his whole journey learning to free himself from: Daddy’s little soldier, marching orders straight from his book, with only his brother by his side. Left only with the person he had been forced, time and time again, to sacrifice his identity, goals, and soul for. None of the family, support, or love, nothing he has built or chosen for himself remains.

And this man who has been told all his life that he isn’t good for anything more than a violent death on a random hunt, alone and afraid and dirty and only worth the body he can throw on the sword, dies exactly in that way. His body burns, alone, only his brother there to watch the smoke curl from his pyre.

Dean’s death, like Castiel’s, did not have to be an inherently bad thing. The story had very clearly built to a choice in this matter: a choice on how to spend the rest of his life and who to do it with. If this choice had involved passing on from this world to the next, in the context of choosing a life in whatever plane he moved to, it wouldn’t have mattered whether that life was mortal or eternal, on earth or in heaven, dead or alive. But that is not what happened. Dean didn’t choose to move on. He fought for decades to learn that what he wanted mattered, that his soul and identity were worth something, that his choices were real. And in the end, he is taken from his life randomly and violently, with absolutely nothing left to show for it. No choice, no act of the soul, no meaning.

And even after he gets to heaven, to his eternal reward, it is devoid of his heart and empty of any choice he had or would have made for himself. He does not seek out any of the people taken from him, he does not go to the man who confessed his undying love for him and sacrificed himself to save him, he does not start building the life that he never got to experience on earth. He doesn’t experience a single moment of actualization or make any choice besides getting in his car and driving aimlessly. He drives and drives to the end, to Sam, existing solely for his brother even in death. No choice, no soul, no meaning.

Dean died because his truth could not be spoken. He was punished by the story, by our world, because his only true ending would have been to love and be loved by another man. His only true ending would have been to fully experience his own identity and choice, and to live a new life surrounded by the things he built with his soul and the people who loved him for it. The message, again, is clear. Dare to seek your truth, and it will be taken.

The love between Dean and Cas was never just something people wanted to see because it was gay, or cute, or whatever people try to reduce it to in order to delegitimize queer stories and their power. The love between Dean and Cas was so deeply tied to each character’s journey, so fundamental to the resolution of each individual’s struggle and growth, so essential to the core themes and emotional substance of the narrative at large, that removing it from the ending caused the entire story to collapse. Failing to resolve it rendered their pain, sacrifice, love, choice– rendered the soul of the story– moot.

So no, people are not just upset that their ship didn’t get to kiss. People are upset that its removal functionally destroyed the story they love, and that the characters they so deeply identify with never got the endings they had built toward for so very long. That they, as viewers, never got to experience the moments of catharsis, acceptance, joy, and peace demanded by what they’ve gone through over the last fifteen years.

People are upset that pieces of their own souls, the pain and love that they identified with so personally and meaningfully, were burned with it. Yes, this is about queerness being fundamentally integrated into the story and its themes, and then being removed cruelly and hopelessly; it is about the painful message for every queer person watching that in the end, the world does not love you or even acknowledge you back. That you do not matter to it, no matter how convincingly it tries to pretend otherwise.

But this is also about our broader identities and struggles– feeling alone and scared, feeling alienated and othered, struggling with depression and trauma, losing autonomy, fearing and hating your flaws, feeling trapped or unloved or toxic or unworthy– it’s about these deeply vulnerable aspects of the self that people let this story connect to. That people found comfort and value in seeing reflected, validated, and overcome. It’s about the deeply traumatizing experience of something you love, something you have found yourself in, turning around and telling you none of it mattered.

The trauma of knowing that this will fuel the very hate, injustice, and devastating indifference that we live in spite of each day. Knowing that our love can make us as vulnerable as it makes us strong, and that this vulnerability has been and will be used against us whether it is in a story or our world.

People are in pain. People are grieving.

They are grieving a story that meant the world to them, they are grieving characters who never got to live their truths or experience their peace, they are grieving the parts of themselves that they saw in them. They are grieving the people they used to be, in those moments when they let themselves believe that they could finally have this– the innocence and authenticity in believing that their stories mattered. In believing that years of waiting, of dedication and faith, of real-life pain and struggle, were about to be honored with a simple act of love that they have been denied over and over again in their stories and their lives.

This is not about a ship. This is about us. This is about the power of our stories, and the pain of their suppression. It always has been.

[disclaimer: this was not written by me. It was written by Deirdre-t on Buzzfeed. I just needed to share this because it’s perfect and I don’t know what to do with myself]

#this is it #this is exactly what i’ve been feeling for days #it was put into words perfectly #supernatural #spn #spnfamily #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #destiel #winchesters #cw #15x18 #15x20 #spn finale #spn final season #TheySilencedThem #jensen ackles #misha collins

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babyboywilson · 5 years ago

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I feel really empty about the finale, I expected to cry and have all the emotions but instead I had a few seconds of sadness with Dean and just so much emptiness. All of the characters deserved better, Dean... from raising his little brother to having an Angel fall for him deserved so much better. He finally started to believe in 15x18 that he wasn’t the “ultimate” killer but someone who did things out of love, someone coming to terms with who he is... and they kill him like that. They pulled a PLL but for their main character.

Sam... a faceless wife and a horror party city wig. He deserved so much better as well. At the end of it, I get why they had them reunited, living the life they’ve dreamed about forever but Dean died so young, never experiencing anything in life.

And Cas... oh my god Cas. This hurts so much and I refuse to accept any of it, just fully living in fanfiction canon at this point. They made him vulnerable, they made him fall in love and they wasted so much. They wasted an arc that changed the dynamic of the show for a quick second and I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay of that.

I wanted to do a rewatch, I actually wanted to start really soon but I just can’t right now. This show came into my life when I needed it the most, I was in a dark place and it brought light to my day. But now I don’t even have a happy finale to look forward to if I ever did rewatch. I have characters who deserved so much better and deserved so much love.

I’m really sorry about the rambles and the rant, I probably didn’t even fully explain everything I’m feeling. I’m just upset and numb and empty towards it all. I don’t wanna lose this show and I don’t wanna lose the characters but I just can’t accept the finale and be fully content with it. I just can’t...

Hi nonnie. I just watched the episode and I honestly feel the exact same way you do. I feel empty and numb. Dean’s death did make me cry, but that was it. I had no real large moments of joy. Nothing that made me smile or feel like I was watching my boys be who they really are. It felt disjointed and disconnected and I’m very upset about it. I’m grasping to the small details like Dean and Sam being in Heaven together, and driving Baby around forever.

Your description of Dean is so spot on. Saying he deserved better for everything he’s given. He deserved a life. He deserved love. He deserved to live and enjoy the world he spent his whole life protecting and saving. I completely agree with you that 15x18 gave us this new light for Dean- him seeing his fight for love and seeing himself filled with not anger or rage or killer blood, but love for his family and the ones he cares so deeply for. That’s the Dean Winchester I fell in love with. That’s the Dean Winchester who stole our hearts. This version tonight was not him. This was not Dean. Dean never gives up. Dean fights for his family to the end and beyond. Even typing this is making me cry. His death felt unfuifilled. Dean was meant to go out in a blaze of glory, not on some measly vamp hunt. It almost...

Okay, I’m not sure if anyone has said this, and I’m expecting hate for saying this. But that death made a mockery of his character. It was a slap in the face. The Greatest Hunter died on his first hunt after Chuck was powerless. And it makes it feel cheap. Like Chuck was the only reason he was a good hunter and without Chuck writing it, Dean was nothing. And I can’t accept that. It utterly destroys me. We’ve seen Dean prove himself over and over again without Chuck (ie “we’re making it up as we go”) and yet here he is, dying on their first hunt after Chuck as if his entire arc as a hunter has been a waste. It completely destroys his character. It makes the whole show a farce. Why show us Dean and Sam being something beyond Chuck’s control and the minute they finally take Chuck off the map, Dean dies in a salt-and-burn easy level hunt. It crushes my soul. I can’t fathom how hurt it makes me feel.

Having Sam not end up with Eileen felt cheap and wrong too. Why lead us with all these saileen hints for seasons and then drop that and have him a marry some rando we don’t even get to see. That’s not the Sam I fell in love with. That’s not him. I can’t accept that. He was devasted over losing Eileen in 15x18 and then we never see her again. Sam deserved the world after everything he’s sacrificed and I cannot begin to describe how upset I am over it. Like yes, I wanted him to have a wife and kids and to retire and be normal, but this felt like an imitation of that hope. Dean deserved to live longer in the world he helped to save. And I refuse to believe Sam would take Dean’s word and not try to save him or bring him back. That’s not who they are.

Okay, I’m going to try not to ramble here because it’s 3am and I’m not going to get any sleep but of all the characters, Cas deserved the fucking world and more. I am utterly desvasted over what they did to Cas. He died without love. He never knew if his family loved him and God I’m now full on sobbing onto my keyboard. Cas opened up, gave his heart to Dean, and died thinking it was for nothing. They could do a whole spin-off just for Cas and even that wouldn’t be enough honestly. I completely agree with you about living in fanfiction. You’re so valid in your feelings over Cas’ wasted arc. You summed up how I feel, and how so many of us feel. Cas gave the show new purpose, new direction, new hope, and they squandered it.

Oh nonnie, I completely understand how you feel about the rewatch. It’s so hard to fathom watching again knowing this is what it leads to. I understand why you can’t right now. What you feel is so valid and so honest and you deserve all the time you need to process everything. My advice? Take time. Find your happiness in the show again- whether it be characters or scenes or specific episodes that made you fall in love. And start with that. And when you’re ready, start rewatching, but only go as far as you want. You do not have to watch the finale again. THe ending can be wherever you want it to be. Do not let this be canon. The show is in the fans hands now. Make it whatever you want it to be. The writers cannot take your personal experience with the show away. It sounds like this show was a lifesaver for you, and that it helped you when you needed to get out of a dark place. I encourage you to find that again. Find scenes. Find episodes or seasons. Characters or plot points. Anything. Find the things about the show that made you happy and hold on. Don’t let go. No matter how badly they slaughtered the ending, no one can take your personal experiences away. No one can take that power from you. The show creators don’t have that power over you. Tell them to f’ off and you keep the parts of the show that saved you. No one can take that from you.

Please do not ever apologize for rambling to me. You can always always always come and ramble to me. I’m sorry my response got personal and long-winded and rambling too. I didn’t mean to get quite so full-throttle but your ask really made me feel things. Also, you don’t have to have all your feelings together right now. You are allowed to be feeling things you can’t express right now. That’s okay. All your feelings, even the ones you can’t put into words, are valid and acceptable. Everything you said and feel is so understandable. You are not alone, I promise. Take some time to grieve and mourn and be upset and angry and empty. When you’re ready, I promise you will find happiness in the show again. I promise. You are not losing the show or the characters. They’re yours. They’re ours. They are no longer in the hands of the creators/writers. They belong to the fans now. We create the stories and the future now. You don’t have to accept the finale... now or ever. You are allowed to be upset. Everything you feel is completely fair. Just know that I love you, that the fandom loves you, and we will be here to help you pick up the pieces.

#anon #anonymous #asked and answered #spn 15x20 #spn spoilers #rambles #this ended up being super long #i got a bit carried away #sorry for the tldr #my point is that you are valid in your emotions and you are not alone #i love you bb #stay strong

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tomorrowsdrama · 5 years ago

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Hyena Ep. 16

I’m baaack! Kind of. I think I hit that point in my quarantine life where I kind of lost my mind so I went on an unexpected hiatus that lasted longer than intended. I know it’s been over a month after the finale of Hyena but here are my ramblings. This post is super long so I’ll save my thoughts on the series as a whole for another post.

Objectively, it was a pretty good finale that was entertaining and wrapped up the important plot lines. We even got some sweet otp moments (more on that later) and satisfying smackdown of the bad guy. But subjectively? Personally? Purely based on my selfish expectations? I wanted more romance! More sexiness! I wasn’t expecting a wedding or anything like that but, not even one kiss? Or a long embrace? Why????

I mean, how can you give me all this sexy chemistry in the promos:

And then not make use of it in the finale? That’s just not fair I say! I feel bamboozled!

Ep. 16

Anyway, let’s talk about the parts I enjoyed of the finale. This is mainly (99%) going to be about the moments between Geum Ja and Hee Jae. So on the morning of episode 16, way back when, I woke up so excited for the finale. Since this was the last episode, surely there will be a kiss! And surely it would be epic given the chemistry between JJH and KHS. I mean did you see that kiss in episode 8? So when we started off the episode with the scene of Hee Jae telling Geum Ja he didn’t want to see her hurt anymore, I was amped. Yes, we’re starting off strong with the romantic scenes I thought.

How can you not fall for him?

Geum Ja, you are not a gangster, you do not need to show your story through the scars on your body. Joking aside, it’s sad that she’s been through so much in life that she has the scars to prove it.

I love that Hee Jae says this half-sarcastically but you can tell that he truly does not want Geum Ja to go through any more pain/suffering. And it’s his sincerity that makes Geum Ja smile so softly. And this is where they kiss right?

Nope, he gets a hearty bro punch in the shoulder.

Cut for lots of caps and ramblings. It’s a bit of a mini novel, you’ve been warned!

Mmm I loved how many scenes of concerned Hee Jae we got in this episode.

Geum Ja screams from a nightmare and Hee Jae immediately runs into the office to check on her. The only way he could have reacted so quickly is if he was sitting outside the office guarding Geum Ja which...AHHH I think I’ve just died and gone to hurt/comfort heaven. Just look at JJH’s face.

EEE! I audibly squealed when Geum Ja said this. Ok, now I’ve truly died. Geum Ja? Asking to be comforted? By Hee Jae? What? This is major. She’s finally letting down her walls a little bit around Hee Jae and allowing herself to be vulnerable. Keep on leaning I say! Lean all the way into bed.

Omg and then she showed concern over Hee Jae’s own emotional state despite her own trauma. His dad totally betrayed him just a few hours ago so Hee Jae’s having a pretty shitty day too. But of course, Hee Jae is only concerned about Geum Ja. Ahh, how many times is he going to make me swoon in this episode?

Feet piled on top of each other?! Are they finally in bed together?

Of course not. Unfortunately, this isn’t that type of drama. SIGH. But this is still very sweet and squeal-inducing.

Have I talked about how much I love JJH’s little sly smirks?

I love that these two fools can’t stop worrying about the other. Geum Ja knows better than anyone how deep emotional scars caused by a parent can be. On top of that, Hee Jae’s father was someone he respected and loved, so the blow is even bigger. I just really like it when my otp show how much they care about each other, ok?

Look at that smile on Hee Jae’s face. It’s like there’s no other place he would rather be than next to Geum Ja.

No, please don’t. Y’all are not 12. Please get at least a queen size bed with plenty of room for two adults to move around in and do...adult things lol.

And then. AND THEN! Geum Ja takes the initiative and turns over towards Hee Jae. She’s finally the one taking the first step towards him without any prodding. And Hee Jae smiles to himself and follows her lead to turn over also. And then the two fools smile lovingly at each other as they fall asleep. Omg, excuse me, I need a moment. I’ve temporarily passed on to the other side from sheer otp happiness.

This moment was just too good. I literally raised both my arms up into the air and cheered when I first watched this episode. I thought, wow the writers are feeding us so well. They’re showering us with so many romantic scenes. The otp caring for each other? Being tender with each other? Sharing a “bed?” I don’t want to ever get off this love train, keep it coming! This is only the first third of the episode so surely it can only go up from here.

And then it ended on a comedic note. I guess I should have seen that coming. This is SBS, not TVN (or JTBC from the looks of The World of the Married). Hah, well I suppose they both had a pretty tiring day so it’s understandable that they would not have much energy to do anything else.

It’s the little everyday things like asking if she’s ok that get me.

(JJH I thirst for you.)

Suuuuure you are.

Lol, he wouldn’t be Hee Jae if he didn’t pull something childish/petty. At least Geum Ja is amused by it and finds it cute now. Get you a man who can be both your emotional support and amusing bratty boyfriend.

Geum Ja does end up meeting Hee Jae for dinner and he can’t help but smile a little. Gosh, it takes so little from Geum Ja to make him happy.

(damn, look at that profile!)

So some time during this episode, Geum Ja’s adoptive father died off-screen from the stab wound he sustained while stopping her assailant. At first, I went “Huh, that’s it?” But then the more I thought about it, the more I liked how matter-of-factly it was treated. It’s certainly consistent with how Geum Ja deals with things. Also, she faced her demons/him in a previous episode so you could say that she already resolved that chapter of her life.

Still, you could tell that she’s not completely unaffected by it. KHS’s acting in this scene is so good. You can tell there’s more to it than what she’s saying just by the little subtle changes in her expression. I can only imagine the many complicated feelings she must be experiencing.

On the one hand, he’s the worst part of her past life and surely deserved to die. But on the other hand, unintentional or not, he died saving her. Geum Ja does not state this with any affection or sentimentality in her voice. It is merely something that happened. Thank goodness the writers did not try to redeem him in the last minute. One good deed does not make up for all the violence and abuse inflicted on her and her mother.

Anyway, all that muddled history and emotions would make anybody conflicted. They really handled it the best way they could - simply state what happened and move on. No hate, no praise, no sadness. He was a terrible man who paid the ultimate price and died. I like that Hee Jae understands not to push the matter any further and changes the subject.

Bro, you’re delusional if you think you still have a chance with her.

And then we get to the ubiquitous Big Shareholder Meeting that we see so often in dramas. I love how Geum Ja is so ballsy in everything she does and she does it all in her comfy tracksuits. Of course the Big Shareholder Meeting does not go as planned and Song Pil Jung gets arrested.

God I love the look on Geum Ja’s face. It screams “is this guy still talking to me?”

Can I just say, I love how utterly brutal Geum Ja is in her rejection of Kevin Jung. Woof, ouch. If I ever heard that from someone I liked, I would be so devastated and embarrassed, I’d find a dark hole to bury myself in and lick my wounds. But of course, Kevin, like all the other men who fall for Geum Ja, seems to be into it. It takes a certain type of man to go for Geum Ja and apparently that type is a total masochist who likes getting rejected and their heart ripped out. I mean, to each their own.

I like whenever they do their power couple strut.

A bro fist bump? Really? Hm, I never really fist bumped the guys I dated but that’s cool I guess. They’re going in to destroy Song Pil Jung so I guess a fist bump is appropriate.

Hm, I don’t know. It seems like you’re the one who got arrested.

Bro. Mister. Are you for real? Did you forget all the shitty things you did to her?

Yeah, that’s kind of a big deal I think.

SO. SATISFYING. Whew honey, this exchange gave me life. My skin has cleared, my bank account is full, and I’ve lost 5 pounds.

Yessss I am all for this nerdy JJH in glasses and turtleneck sipping on expensive instant coffee aesthetic.

The couple that taunts together, stays together?

Hahahahaha, Hee Jae talking about being professional at work? Hahahahha.

I live for jealous Hee Jae because he’s extra ridiculous whenever he’s jealous. In this scene he’s getting jealous over Ju-Ho calling Geuma Ja “noona” and it’s like come on, they’re foster siblings. Let him call her noona. Side note, Netflix translates “noona” into Eun-Young, Geum Ja’s real name, and it irks me. Couldn’t they have just translated it into “sis” instead?

Now we’re around the 55 minute mark and I’m thinking, okay this is probably where it’s going to end. This is when it’s going to happen. They don’t have that much time left in the episode. All right, give me us all that we’ve been waiting for.

(Good looking main stays looking good.)

You can’t ever accuse Hee Jae of not being committed to Geum Ja.

We finally get an explanation for why Geum Ja always stared at that huge building

Haha, can you expect anything less from her character? At this point, I’m looking at the remaining time and thinking, ok then, when’s that kiss gonna happen?

SHRIEKS WHAT ARE THOSE HIDEOUS THINGS ON HIS FEET?! On another note, I’m sure Kim Hye Soo must be so glad she doesn’t have to wear those gigantic heels anymore.

Omg, ok, this is it. We’re getting shots of beautiful sexy people strutting and being playful with each other. They’re setting up for a romantic ending kiss. Ok, time to prepare myself.

Yes, put your arms around each other. We’re getting closer now.

Oh, ok. I guess this will be a far away in the distance kind of kiss. That’s ok, too I guess.

Oh, wait. Never mind. Looks like we’re going to get a frontal view of the ending kiss after all. Even better!

What? That’s it? What? Did I miss something? This can’t be.

Oh whew. An epilogue. Ok, this is when it’s going to happen.

Hahaha, they’re totally using the vloggers to advertise for their law firm. I love how Hee Jae has loosened up on what he thinks a proper lawyer should act like and it’s reflected in his more flamboyant wardrobe choices.

These damn fist bumps again. All the time spent fist bumping could have been spent hugging and kissing. Priorities, people!

Hah, like hell Hee Jae would ever leave Geum Ja.

Haha knew it. Boy is more whipped than whipped cream.

This pretty much sums up their dynamic. SIGH I’m not going to get my kiss am I.

Oh no. That caption can only mean one thing.

Yeeep. That’s it. This is the end. Finito.

Well. All right then. You know, the first time I watched this episode, I felt very disappointed that there was no final kiss. I mean the last time we saw them kissing was in episode 8 at the midpoint of the drama. This drama was clearly a rom com/screwball comedy so it only seemed fitting that there would be one last kiss scene. That’s how you end a romantic drama! But alas.

Actually, upon re-watching and re-capping this episode, I realized that even though we did not get any kiss scene, the writers still gave us plenty of sweet moments between Hee Jae and Geum Ja. We got to see their lovely progression into becoming partners who supported and trusted each other so that was nice. Even though they’re clearly together now, it’s nice to see that they still have their playful bickering dynamic. So objectively, it was a nice ending. I just personally wanted more smooches.

If you made it through this entire post, thank you for expending so much time reading my ramblings and congratultaions on having so much patience!

#sbs hyena #hyena #ju ji hoon #kim hye soo #joo ji hoon #kdrama

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onyour-right · 6 years ago

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Dickkory - A hidden scene fic

Okay, so this has been in my mind since episode 7 aired. Dick and Kory finally having that much needed chat. (Which isn’t to say everything is automatically resolved, BUT it’s a good stepping stone towards where they need to be at).

As always, please like/reblog/comment if you enjoyed. Reading reviews honestly motivates me to write more and it’s good to read constructive feedback. Any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes are my own.

Word count: 2,195

---

Later that evening when everyone retreats back to their rooms, Dick finds himself going back up to the roof, sitting down on the ledge that Jason was contemplating taking his own life from just a few hours ago. The memory makes him frown, makes an icy cold feeling of dread wash over him as he tries to imagine what would have happened if he’d been a minute too late, or two, or five. He never thought that things with Jason would ever, could ever get to the point it had; sure, he knows that the kid is troubled, that he – like everyone else – has his own demons to battle with, but he hadn’t just been troubled up on that ledge he had been completely and utterly broken, hopeless.

It was deeply unsettling how much Jason had reminded Dick of himself in that moment, of how it’s been for him ever since Deathstroke made his reappearance and forced him to relive his past failures. Trapped between the sins of the past and the sins of the present, one foot hanging precariously off the edge and one foot firm on solid ground. Suicide by what? Some misguided notion of martyrdom. As if it would somehow make up for all his wrongdoings, his regret, if he lost his life by stopping Slade once and for all.

He can never make it right though, not really. His bad choices are stuck to him, stuck close as a shadow to a body. They’re in every breath that he breathes and every decision that he makes, they’re in every step that he takes and the way he carries himself. Dick knows this, has accepted it, and yet…

Earlier on it had felt somewhat liberating, confessing his deepest shame to Jason. Like a weight – albeit small – had been lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe a little easier, move a little freer. Even when the boy had stared at him wide-eyed, an expression on his face that Dick hadn’t known how to read, and had not been fully sure what to say so had remained silent, it still felt… good.

Now he just has to tell the others. It’s not going to go well, he’s accepted that, there’ll probably be raised voices, angry and disappointed words hissed at him, maybe some relationships being done with for good. But he just hopes that she won’t, that Kory won’t.

Just then the sound of footsteps approaching from behind pull Dick out of his thoughts, and he knows instantly who it is by the enticingly familiar scent that invades his senses: ambery warm and spicy. He can feel it in the way the tenseness of his muscles instinctively loosen up, a reaction to her physical presence that he’s powerless to control. It’s as if he’s managed to conjure her up just by thinking of her. Not a terrible power to have, he thinks.

Kory reaches him and, much to his surprise and amusement, is carrying two half-filled glasses of what looks to be tequila in her hands. His mind drifts back to another time – her lips on his, their bodies flush against each other, his body aching with want of her - and he tries to school his face into a neutral expression.

Her brown eyes study him intently as she reaches one to him in offering, her lips quirking up into a slight but genuine smile as she asks softly, “You want some company?”

“I’d never refuse yours,” he replies, meeting her gaze and holding it for a minute longer after he takes the glass from her grip.

Kory lets out an amused, maybe also pleased, chuckle and rests a gentle hand on his shoulder as she swings a leg over the ledge to sit down next to him. The simple action makes Dick’s lips twitch into a faint smile, makes him a little warmer even though the night air is cold. He knows that Kory has near perfect balance, she could have easily sat without having to touch him, so the fact that she did isn’t lost to him. It means that even though things between them aren’t where they should be, where he wants them to be and hopes she does too, at the very least she still seeks out his touch.

Comfortable silence falls over the two of them as they take in the nightly sights ahead, occasionally knocking back some of the alcoholic liquid then wincing at the bitter sharpness. It’s one reason why Dick relishes being in Kory’s presence so much; she appreciates the quiet moments without feeling pressure to break it unnecessarily, she doesn’t push him to talk until he’s ready to.

He thinks he’s ready.

“I should have called you,” he admits, voice soft and eyes focused on a building in-front of him, his thumb lightly tapping against his glass.

Kory turns to him, a single brow arched as she regards him patiently, allowing him the space to get what he needs to say off his chest.

“I wanted to, but I thought you needed space to figure things out. I didn’t want to -” he pauses, a sigh falling from his mouth as he tries to find the right words that will make her understand, “I didn’t want to be selfish with you.”

Her following silence makes something ugly twist in Dick’s stomach, it makes him look away from the building and into the brown pools of her eyes to see if he can see what she’s feeling. After a moment of staring at each other, Kory speaks.

“Selfish is the last thing I’d call you, Dick Grayson. I mean I get it, but it would have been nice.”

She doesn’t sound angry or even judgemental, she never does, but there’s an element to her tone that makes him feel out of place. He doesn’t know what it is or how to really explain it, all he knows is that it’s a feeling that he doesn’t like. Dick opens his mouth to say something, an apology would be a good start, but Kory must realise because she swiftly cuts him off before the words can leave his mouth.

“I could have called too, so I guess we both thought we were doing what was best for each other.”

Dick hums in agreement, but now he’s just a little bit curious. “Why didn’t you call?”

Kory looks at him for a long moment, like she’s weighing up whether what she’s about to say will be taken the wrong way or not. “I knew you’d be busy with the kids and that you probably wouldn’t have any time for me, so I didn’t want to bother you.”

He narrows his eyes, a frown starting on his face again; he can feel himself growing defensive even though at the back of his mind he knows that her reasoning for not calling hadn’t been wrong. “You wouldn’t have. I could have, I would have tried to -” he starts but soon trails off, unsure of what it is he’s trying to say in the first place.

“I didn’t want you to have to try to do anything, Dick.”

He understands, he really does. One bittersweet thing about Kory, he’s beginning to find, is that her words are always clear in their honesty, never half-truths or attempts to sugar coat anything because it’s what she thinks you might want to hear. On one hand it means there’s no room for misunderstanding, or at the very least if there is a misunderstanding it’s by choice; it also means, however, that the unintentionality of her words stinging, often times makes the sting worse.

This time the silence that settles over them is slightly less comfortable, it’s tense with everything that’s being spoken without being vocalised. Thankfully after a while Kory breaks it, and although he’s grateful he finds himself wary about the topic they’re on the brinks of discussing.

“So Deathstroke really has all of you rattled, huh.”

An understatement, he thinks with a bitter laugh. He downs the rest of the alcohol in his glass, liquid courage and all that, before placing it to the side of him. He runs his fingers nervously through his hair, sneaking a quick glance at Kory who’s watching him ever patiently. Exhaling a shaky breath, he finally opens his mouth and tells her the truth.

How Deathstroke had killed Garth on his birthday and left the team feeling vengeful and devastated, how in response Dick had tracked down his son and gotten close to him, had made him believe that they were genuinely friends only to lead him right into the palms of his father – like the proverbial lamb to the slaughter. He tells her how Jericho had taken the killing blow that was aimed for him, how the others had left him after they found out he’d died, how it had broken him more than he thought it would, and how it was because of that that he was reluctant to reveal what had happened out of fear everyone would leave again.

After Dick is done he can’t quite find it in himself to meet her gaze, which he’s sure is going to be filled with disgust, and so he looks away. His body tensing up in preparation for whatever might come next.

When nothing comes next, or at least not immediately, he allows himself to turn back to her. Kory doesn’t say anything for a good while after he finishes, but her facial expression tells him enough about her reaction to what he’s just said; the sadness flashing transparently in her eyes, the distressed furrowing of her brows, her mouth that’s down-turned in a slight frown. She’s looking at him with something akin to understanding, like everyone’s behaviour suddenly makes sense to her now: the weird tension between him and the others, why he was so quick to trade himself for Jason, why he didn’t ask her for help when he knew she would have it given freely. It’s a terrifying rush being seen, being understood, it’s certainly not a feeling that Dick is used to.

Her hand suddenly reaches up and cups the side of his face, her thumb gently wiping away the tears that he hadn’t even realised had fallen. Dick thinks he should probably feel embarrassed, being so vulnerable like this, but he can’t quite muster up the energy to care.

“His death wasn’t your fault,” she murmurs, gentle but firm, unwavering in her faith of him.

He shakes his head vehemently, the tears flowing with more ease now. It’s as if now that he’s started he can’t seem to stop. Maybe he doesn’t even want to. “I killed him, Kory,” he says, his voice so painfully close to breaking off.

“Listen to me, Dick Grayson,” and she puts her unfinished drink to one side, freeing her other hand to cup the other side of Dick’s face. “Did you use Jericho? Yes. Was it wrong? Of course. But did you kill him, were you responsible for his death? No. It’s fucked up how it all went down, it’s really fucked up. But if Dawn, Hank and Donna somehow made you feel like it was all your fault, like they didn’t play a role in it, if they can look down on you for it then y’know what, fuck them and you’re better off without them.”

Dick stares at her with wide eyes, shocked at the venom laced in her tone. He can’t remember a time when he’s heard such bitterness come from her; he’s not going to waste time lying by saying that it isn’t touching, that hearing Kory defending him isn’t everything to him, but he can’t help but doubt whether he’s deserving of her protectiveness.

“Kory,” he tries, but the argument dies on his tongue at the look she sends him.

“Dick, you cared for that boy. You feel guilty because you think that if you hadn’t brought him in then Slade wouldn’t have found him, that he wouldn’t have died. But there’s no use blaming yourself for what you didn’t do, or thinking about what ifs; it happened, it was horrible, but you can’t let it have so much power over you, you have to find a way to move on.”

She’s right, he knows she is, and if he looks deep inside himself he’ll find that he’s always known it. But he’s spent so long carrying this baggage that to suddenly let go of it terrifies him, it overwhelms him because he doesn’t know where the fuck to even begin unloading at, all he knows right now is that he’s exhausted from all this.

“Kory,” he whispers reverently this time, his eyes searching for an answer that he finds in her gaze. He inches forward and rests his forehead gently against hers, both their eyes falling shut as they relish in this unexplored area of intimacy between them, their mouths inches apart and breaths intermingling in an even and soothing rhythm.

Dick doesn’t know where to start, but if he’s learnt anything at all it’s that the only way out is through, and so he’ll endure.

// end

#titans live action #dick grayson #kory anders #dickkory #G writes #a dickkory fic

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cosmic-affinities · 5 years ago

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Pinky Finger

This is just a separate post of something I just reblogged! (Its my own content I just posted it underneath the original inspiration) (Credit for the prompt goes to @dekatsu )

So this came out to be A LOT longer than i intended soooo, here you go i guess?

AO3 link here

It’s the pinky finger. Of course, it is. It seems like every shitty thing originates from that small appendage. It’s ridiculous really.

Katsuki could really do without this shit.

It all started when Midoriya broke all his fingers except his right pinky, from there the damned thing was out to end Katsuki Bakugo’s life. It was the little things, leading with his pinky instead of his pointer finger like a normal fucking person, tapping his desk so quietly that Katsuki was the only one able to hear it, and the last, most devastating, approaching obscene, way he sucked on the tip of his pinky when he was too concentrated to realize what he was doing. That was the metaphorical nail in the coffin, and if Katsuki were to witness that while fighting, it would be literal.

Katsuki was fucked, and he knew it. It was bad enough having a crush on your childhood friend that you bullied then eventually and painfully formed a tentative friendship with but, it was even worse being utterly obsessed with his damned pinky. It couldn’t have been something normal like his ass (which was spectacular) or his legs (which could crush him any day of the week) or even his hair (softer than what should be considered legal) no, it had to be his fucking finger. To top off the shittiest cake known to man, his best friend (a thought he would never admit to having) figured it out.

Katsuki was very careful to be discrete, all to avoid the very conversation he was pointedly not taking apart in. Kirishima managed to corner him outside his dorm room.

“Bakubro, what's with you and Mido? I know you guys are friends now, but you barely look him in the eyes, and you constantly look super focused whenever he is talking to you.” A wordless grunt is all Kirishima got in response, typical.

“Alright, I guess I’ll just have to take guesses and see which one sticks. Ok here goes, are you trying to think of a way to destroy him without actually killing him?”

Silence.

“Ok, trying to read his mind?”

A bored look.

“How about trying to make him stop talking with only your mind?”

A look that read ‘you are a dumbass’

Kirishima smiled before he spoke again, almost knowingly. “Oh, I know, you are trying to figure out a way to ask him out.”

No eye contact, a poorly concealed flush on his cheeks. Bingo.

“Finally something I can work with. So what’s the plan, I say we call it Operation: Izukatsu what do you think?”

“I think you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and also doesn’t know how to properly name something.” Finally, Katsuki broke his silence.

“Alright smart guy what do you think we should call it?” Kirishima expertly avoided leaving room for denial.

“First of all, there is no ‘it’ so congrats you jumped to a dumb fucking conclusion and second you are a dumb fuck.” Of course, Katsuki found room for denial.

“Ok, ouch did you need an entire point to call me dumb? Don’t answer that! And yes there is an ‘it’ I can tell because you wouldn’t have said anything in the first place if there wasn’t. Admit it, bro, I’m smarter than I look!”

Katsuki flushed again, it remained a flush because he vehemently swears he does not have the ability to blush.

“See! That right there is the ‘it’ I’m talking about. Bro, you know I won’t say anything right? It would be pretty messed up if I did since I'm kinda the same way with Denki.” That was the perfectly placed vulnerability, the perfect way to get someone like Katsuki to cave in.

“No, you and Pikachu are fucking gross, basically sucking each other's dicks in front of everyone and still not getting together.” Maybe Kirishima’s plan wasn’t flawless, it just needed some adjustment.

“Well if I make a move on Denki will you make a move on Mido? That’s a double win for you, a boyfriend and you won’t have to see whatever it is Denki and I do.” Well adjusted, vulnerability and a wager.

“I’m only going to say this once and only to you because I know you won’t go blab your fucking mouth to the first person you see. Fine, if you figure your shit out with Pikachu I’ll figure out mine. But you have to convince Deku it was a joke when he laughs in my face.” Katsuki wouldn’t meet the redhead’s eyes.

“Bro, you know Mido isn’t like that and I doubt he is going to laugh at you. Plus I’m pretty sure he feels the same way.”

“And why the fuck do you think you know how I feel.” It wasn’t a question, but Kirishima was going to give him an answer anyway, he needed to hear it.

“Do you not see the way he looks at you? Or talks about you? Or how excited he gets when you talk to him? Or how he basically jumped around when you agreed to spar with him? Or-”

“OK! I get it, whatever. He’s like that with everyone.”

“Bro if he was like that with me, you would have blown me up a long time ago.”

“Ok, fine whatever, if this blows up it’s on you.”

“I will take that risk for you bro.”

Katsuki finally relaxed a bit, assuming the conversation was finished.

“So, what should we call it if Izukatsu isn’t ok?” Kirishima had the confidence to smirk, thinking he could fluster his best friend.

“...bakudeku.” Katsuki said, barely loud enough for Kirishima to hear him.

“BRO I DIDN’T KNOW YOU ACTUALLY HAD ONE!”

“Shut up! TELL ANYONE AND DIE!!!”

“Oh, come on you know I won’t say anything, not even to the squad.”

“Whatever this has been way too much talking about this bull shit, come find me after you grow a pair and ask out the phone charger.” With that Katsuki walked away, nearly slamming into Deku, but the nerd’s reflexes had quickened since coming to UA so he was able to step aside and grab onto Katsuki before they ran into each other.

“Woah Kacchan, where’s the fire? What’s got you walking so quickly?”As he spoke Katsuki could feel the hand on his bicep twitch, that was the only warning he got before he felt the tapping. So light that many would not have noticed, and if it was anyone else Katsuki wouldn’t have, but the hyper-focus he gained around Deku was amplified as his right pinky lightly tapped him rhythmically.

“Oh just shitty hair being stupid, I don’t want to lose IQ points.” Deku laughed, Katsuki wanted him to do it again.

“Kacchan I know he’s your best friend, no need to pretend.” More giggles followed.

“Well, whatever, either way, that's what I was walking away from. What about you, aren't you usually with Round Face for breakfast on Sundays?” He hoped that didn’t come off creepy, he just happened to know where Deku usually was on Sundays.

“Oh yeah usually, but she needed some time to talk to Tsu so I told her to take her to breakfast! Hopefully, now she won’t get so distracted every time Tsu walks by.” A smile lit up Deku's face as he quietly laughed, nearly blinding to Katsuki.

“Finally, maybe now I’ll be able to go to class without being caught between someone staring at their damn crush, it's gross walking between Shitty Hair and Pikachu can’t even imagine your two.” Katsuki faked a small gag which earned him a pretty laugh, maybe he could record it.

“Lucky you, I still have to deal with Todoroki, I make sure to avoid Class B when I’m with him if he sees Shinsou there is no getting him back.”

“Does this class need a fucking matchmaker? Is that what it'll take? Even Racoon Eyes can’t get enough of Earphones I swear can’t go anywhere without someone acting dumb around their crush.” Katsuki silently hoped this would be the end of this particular topic, talking about crushes while Deku tapped his bicep was hitting way too close to home.

As if he could read Katsuki’s thoughts, Deku removed his hand, the contact was immediately missed.

“Maybe a matchmaker wouldn’t be so bad, I don’t know how much more I can take!” Deku laughed again, he was definitely out to get Katsuki today.

“Oh and what about you? Does Round Face expect you to use your Sunday the same way she is?” Katsuki heavily faked nonchalance, he knew Kirishima wouldn’t take long to hold up his end of the bargain and he at least wanted to prepare for rejection.

Nervous laughter met his ears and when he looked at Deku he saw a red face, only managing to make his freckles stand out even more, damn any higher power, that was fucking cute.

“Oh um I don’t think she expects anything from me!” Deku’s pinky started to twitch, capturing Katuki’s attention momentarily.

“Good, since you’re free and I have Mario Kart for my switch, wanna play?” Did he fucking say good? Shit, hopefully, Deku didn’t notice.

“Oh, sure! I just need to eat something first if I don’t, I won’t make it through one round.” If he did notice he didn’t mention it.

“I was about to make some rice and I guess I could make enough for you cause I’m guessing you can’t cook for shit, even if it's just rice.”

“I’m going to choose to ignore the insult and just say thanks, so thanks Kacchan!” Another blinding smile, fuck.

“You ignoring it means it probably true, come on I’m starving.” Katsuki didn’t wait for a response, electing to walk forward and hope the damn nerd followed him.

He did.

They made their way into the kitchen area and Deku just pushed himself up onto the counter and watched as Katsuki expertly moved his way around the kitchen, it didn’t take long, he was only making rice after all.

Just as he finished he commented, “You know, you could’ve helped me instead of just staring at me.”

Although he was red, Deku managed to respond, “I thought you said I can’t cook, what happened to that huh?”

“Well, either way, you didn’t have to stare.” Katsuki tacked on a light laugh at the end, he hoped Deku knew he was joking.

“Wh-what! I wasn’t-”

“Nerd! I’m messing with you, now come on and eat already, I didn’t cook for you not to eat.”

They both ate fairly quickly, neither was kidding when they said they were hungry. Once they finished they got up and made their way back towards Katsuki’s dorm.

“Let me stop in my room to grab a blanket really quickly so I can beat you in Mario Kart without getting cold.”

“Yeah right you’re gonna beat me, no one has been able to beat me yet. Come on, let's go.”

The two make it to Midoriya’s room and Katsuki is told to wait by the door while Midoriya grabs a few things. He takes the time to watch the nerd navigate perfectly around his mess of a room, collecting snacks, and a big blanket. His eyes wander around the rest of the room, flicking between All Might decorations and figurines, and school work. As he glanced towards the windowsill above the bed, he noticed something stark compared to all of the All Might things.

“Hey Nerd, what's that on your window? It doesn’t look like any All Might stuff I’ve seen.” Katsuki’s interest piqued when Deku turned red and tried to stutter out a response. He was finally able to compose himself.

“Oh, that’s just an old hero figuring I found, nothing crazy.” Katsuki didn’t buy it.

“Well let me see, what hero is it? I know just as many of them as you do.” Deku quickly moved to grab the figurine but a firm hand on his wrist stopped him.

“Like I said, it’s just something I found, you wouldn’t be interested in it! Trust me!”

“Then let me see it, now I’m curious.” Deku tried to wiggle out of the firm grasp, without activating his quirk Katsuki had him beat in raw strength so he was out of luck.

“N-no! Trust me you won’t like it!”

“And how do you know that?”

“Uh, just a hunch?”

“Are you asking or telling? You know what, whatever I’m just going to grab it.”

“NO WAIT!” Deku tried to get him to stop but Katsuki was already leaning over the bed to grab it, all while keeping his eyes on Deku, making sure he didn’t try to stop him.

“What could be so bad-” Katsuki finally looked down at the black and orange figurine in his hand, it was him in his hero costume. His cheeks tinged with red, he had to come up with something to say and fast.

“Tch they got my hair wrong, it’s pointier than that.” He continued to inspect the figure, trying to act unaware of Deku’s blush and slight sputtering.

“Uh, I um found that in a hero kiosk is the mall just after the sports festival, apparently a lot of people wanted figures of the winners. The ones of Todoroki and Tokoyami didn’t look right, but yours was pretty close, I guess I got excited seeing you three as figures.” It was a wonder the nerd didn’t pass out from a lack of oxygen, he tried to explain himself all in one breath.

“Who would want losers on their shelves anyway, at least I earned a spot, HA I wonder how many people actually have these.” The lack of insults seemed to calm Deku down a bit.

“I actually asked! He said he had sold at least 50 of just yours that day alone! For someone who isn’t even a Pro yet, I thought that was pretty impressive!”

“Heh, probably more than the other two, anyways why don’t all of the extras know about this? I know for a fact a handful of them have been in here and none of them would have let me hear the fucking end of it.”

“Oh um well usually I put it away when people come over, but today was a surprise so…” His pinky started to tap against his arm slowly, he was embarrassed.

“Eh, they would all be too jealous to function anyways. So are you ready? Mario Kart isn’t going to play itself.” Hopefully, the change in subject would calm him down.

“Yeah! We can go now.” The tapping stopped as Katsuki replaced the figure.

“Alright then hurry the fuck up, we’re wasting time.”

The two made their way to Katsuki’s room, but as they got closer Deku’s pinky started tapping his thigh.

“You nervous I’m going to beat you so badly you won’t get to finish the race?” Katsuki hoped to try and ease the anxiety he could see in the other.

“What? I’m not nervous! I’m definitely going to beat you!” His pinky gave him away, it tapped faster as they approached the door.

‘Do I tell him I can tell he’s nervous? Would that be embarrassing? Should I just let it go? Why was he so nervous anyway?’ Katsuki’s mind was running on overdrive until he finally settled on something to say.

“Tch, as if. No way you could beat me.”

“Well we’ll just see won’t we?” Although Deku looked smug and challenging his pinky still twitched.

As the pair entered the room Deku took a look around noticing how clean it was, although he didn’t expect much less. Katsuki made quick work of setting up the game and directed Deku to the bed.

“You can put the snacks on the desk and sit on the bed, unless you want to sit on the floor?”

“I think gaming usually happens on the floor leaning against the bed, we don’t want you to singe your bed when you lose, do we?” He displayed the confidence so well that Katsuki was wondering if the pinky tapping didn’t mean what he thought. He immediately scrapped that line of thought, there was no way he was wrong.

“I think we have to worry about you rage quitting.” A quick eyebrow raise solidified the challenge, both were determined to win.

Katsuki sat down next to Deku on the floor leaning on the bed and handed him a controller, as they went to the player select screen Deku threw the blanket around his head and over his shoulders. The fabric bunched all around him and Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder why he brought such a big blanket.

“Let’s see what shitty set up you use Deku, cause I know it won’t be as good as mine.” They both completed the character select in relative silence, one they were done both had… comments.

“Never pegged you for a Baby Mario kinda doesn’t fit you.” Deku chuckled out.

“HEY! He is fast and he is a mini badass when you jump! And you don’t see me making fun of you for using Yoshi! Especially the green one, how predictable!”

“Mhmm sure Kacchan, just tell me one thing? Why did you start using him in the first place?”

“Oh wipe the smug look off your face, it started as a bet. I told Shitty Hair I could beat him with anyone and any setup and he said prove it, so we spent an entire night going through me using all the characters and it was just the funniest fucking thing to see Dry Bowser get beaten so badly by Baby Mario! Now whenever someone loses to me it's just that much better that they lost to a literal baby!”

“Why am I not surprised? And Green Yoshi has always been good to me!”

“Look, just wait until you see badass little Baby Mario on the first place pedestal, you will see what I’m talking about.”

The two played the four rounds of the Star Cup, and as they finished the heated round on Mount Wario they saw they had tied for points. The lead up to the awards screen played out and both of their characters were featured.

“Haah?! I won on a technicality!? No fucking way, I need to completely beat you, none of this tie bullshit!”

“Well Kacchan, it is something to see the person in second place still be taller than the one in first even though the platforms are uneven.”

“Are you not going to acknowledge our tie?!”

“I was getting to it, looks like since you won the last race in the cup, the game gives you first place. That's interesting. I never knew that. I wonder what happens if you tie with a CPU? Or if you tie on a worldwide game?”

“Deku! Mumbling!”

“Right sorry. Wanna rematch?” The excited look in his eyes took Katsuki by surprise, he could only navigate the way into setting up the next match.

“I think we should do the Lightning Cup first because the Special Cup has the harder version of rainbow road, in comparison the rainbow road on the N64 is pretty easy.”

“Yeah sure whatever Deku, just stop leaning into the hard turns, this isn’t the Wii, everything is on the controller.” The only reason there was a need to mention this was because Deku was leaning dangerously close to Katsuki, and he wasn’t sure he could hold it together.

“Oh! Sure Kacchan, I didn’t even realize I was doing it!” The pretty blush was back on his cheeks as he let out a small laugh, Katsuki definitely couldn’t hold it together.

“I’m only telling you cause by the time we get to rainbow road you’ll practically be in my lap!”

This was not the right thing to say. The thought alone made the two of them horribly red, and Deku started to tap his pinky again.

“Let’s start the fucking race, I have a point to prove.’

This cup went similar to the first but Deku managed to take first place in the last race, Rainbow Road N64, meaning Yoshi was at the top of the platform.

“Not this fucking tie again! Damn it Deku! When did you become good at video games?” Katsuki cautioned a look at his bundled up nerd, also a mistake. The pride in his eyes as he looked at Katsuki made his breath hitch ever so slightly.

“I’ve always been good, you were just too scared to admit it!”

“Tch whatever, we still have one more cup that’s worth our time.” Katsuki forced himself to look away, despite the warning before the previous round, Deku ended up even closer to him and he wouldn’t be able to hold it together much longer.

“Maybe this next one we won’t actually tie.”

“I don’t plan on it nerd.” Katsuki contemplated for a second before continuing, “Share your damn blanket its fucking cold in here and all my shit’s folded.” He had been thinking about asking since he saw how big the blanket was but better late than never.

“Oh, sure!” Deku unwrapped himself and draped the big blanket over their laps, now connected by their thighs, and tucked it around them. Successfully keeping them together in a blanket cage.

Katsuki focused very hard to keep himself from wrapping around Deku, trying to focus on the game in front of him, as he started up the final cup.

The last was shockingly similar to the first two, although Katsuki was very close to becoming the fair winner until Deku started to tap his controller leaving Katsuki momentarily distracted leading to the final tie.

“Another fucking tie, that's it it’s gotta be rigged!”

“Kacchan I just think we’re too good and the game doesn’t know how to handle it.” Deku giggled which effectively cut Katsuki’s train of thought short.

“Tch whatever you’re probably right. It just can’t handle us.” Katsuki allowed himself to laugh too, eventually, the pair leaned against each other and the bed calming down after a bout of laughing and small jokes continuing to make everything seem much funnier than it was until the two were breathless. Once the two finally settled, Katsuki realized he didn’t want Deku to leave, even though he only extended an offer of Mario Kart.

“Wanna watch a movie? You brought a bunch of shit and we haven’t even touched it.”

“Yeah, sure! What’d you wanna watch?” Pointedly neither moved from their position.

“I have a bunch of All Might’s old movies downloaded on my laptop, we could watch those?” Before he spoke he could feel Deku’s excitement.

“Yes! That sounds like fun! Maybe we could sit somewhere else though, the floor is only comfortable for so long.”

“Yeah, we can just sit on my bed and use a pillow to prop up the laptop.” At this Katsuki reluctantly moved, grabbing his laptop and the snacks off of his desk moving them to his night table. Deku grabbed the pillow and settled in near the wall, making room for Katsuki to sit next to him, they were basically pressed up against each other from shoulder to ankle due to the size of the bed.

“Man, I haven’t seen one of these in a while, I guess it’s different when you have the real one as your teacher huh.”

“Damn right it is, I remember watching one of these at your house when we were barely old enough to understand what was going on. Auntie Inko was so confused when all we kept screaming was ‘I am Here’ as we ran around.” Katsuki began to laugh at the memory, it seemed like so long ago.

“Oh my gosh, I remember that! Didn’t we use Auntie Mitsuki’s towels as capes?” Deku soon joined the laughter.

“Yeah, the hag was trying to scold us but Auntie Inko pointed at the TV and they just kinda let us be, I guess they knew we wouldn’t stop for a while.”

“Man if I would’ve been told that All Might was going to be my teacher I would’ve freaked out, I kinda did when I found out honestly.”

“If you tell anyone this you’ll be dead before you can finish your sentence, but I did too. I scared the neighbor’s cat with my quirk on accident.” At this Deku threw his head back and laughed so infectiously that soon the pair was in a similar state to the one they had been in on the floor just before deciding to watch a movie. Breathless and happy the pair leaned back and watched the action sequence in front of them play out.

With the occasional comment the movie went by quickly and neither made a move to stop the next one from playing.

By the time Katsuki knew what was happening the second movie was almost over. He blearily lifted his head and tried to sit up, realizing he couldn’t move because of a weight on his chest. He looked down and took in the sight in front of him. Here he was basically cuddling with Deku, right arm over the greenette’s back resting on his hip. He saw that Deku had him trapped in a hug with an arm on either side of him and a head relaxed on his chest.

Deciding against his better judgment, Katsuki decided to lay his head back down, wrap his other arm around Deku, and go back to sleep.

This time he was woken by a voice.

“Kacchan. Kacchan?” Along with the voice, Katsuki could hear the end credits of the third movie playing in the background.

“Mmm shhh, I’m sleeping.”

“Kacchan! I can’t get up.”

“That sounds like a you problem, Deku.”

“Kacchan would you open your eyes!”

“No, I’m still asleep.”

At this, the pair heard the door swing open and a voice before they could react.

“Hey, Bakubro! You missed lu- oh hey Mido sorry I didn’t realize you two were in here, I’ll just go.”

Both boys on the bed scrambled to get up and respond, Deku was the first to compose himself.

“Oh don’t w-worry Kirishima! I just fell asleep during a movie.” He didn’t say anymore, clearly red with embarrassment.

“What is it that you need Shitty Hair?” Katsuki shot Kirishima, a warning glare that was dulled by the flush on his cheeks.

“Oh, well I was just coming to ask why you missed lunch and tell you some uh, news you could say.” The eyebrow raise made it perfectly clear as to what news he had for Katsuki.

“No- not already? Are you fucking serious! Not even a full day?!”

“I am serious thank you very much, we are going to get ramen tomorrow after classes get out!” The excitement was clear in his voice. “Now it’s your turn!”

“What do you mean Kirishima? It’s Kacchan’s turn for what?” The curiosity overpowered any lingering embarrassment.

“Well, basically Bakubro and I made a deal. He said that, and I quote ‘if you figure your shit out with Pikachu I’ll figure out mine’ so, now he has to make his own move.” Kirishima turned to face Katsuki and raised an expectant eyebrow before either could say anything they heard a small voice.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had a crush on someone Kacchan.” And then slightly louder and more positive “Anyways, I’ll let you guys talk. I should go, Uraraka will want to talk to me, bye guys!” Deku stood up and walked to the door without grabbing anything.

“Deku wait!” It was too late, he was already out the door.

“REALLY?! Did you have to say all that shit to him?! Fuck! And he left his fucking blanket!” Katsuki now stood and paced around in front of Kirishima.

“Sorry! I thought you had already made your move! You guys were all cuddled up so I just assumed!”

“Fuck! No! We seriously just fell asleep! Damn it! What am I going to do, he thinks I like someone else?!”

“Bro, did you hear how he sounded when he said he didn’t know you had a crush on someone? “

“Yeah, he sounded surprised, what the hell does that have to do with anything?!”

“DUDE! He didn’t sound surprised! He sounded heartbroken! Or maybe just really sad, I guess heartbroken is a strong word.”

“What the fuck? No, he didn’t, did he?” Katsuki sounded almost hopeful, which maybe wasn’t fully appropriate for the situation.

“Ok dude, first of all, don't sound so happy about him being sad, second of all YES he did, would you just go and get him?!”

“NO! What the hell man! Things between us are complicated! I can’t just go up to him, it would make things weird! I have to have some kind of plan that I can get out of because I’m still not convinced that you know what you are talking about.”

“Bakugou! If you don't, believe me, why don’t you go ask Todoroki or Uraraka?! I don’t want to deal with any more of this! Dude, he likes you, you like him, go for it!”

“Look, it’s not that simple-”

“Yes, it is! What could possibly be holding you of all people back? You should-”

“I TOLD HIM TO KILL HIMSELF! OK, look in middle school I gave him a lot of shit and I crossed a line that I can’t go back from and so now there is no way he could ever see me like that, I am lucky enough that he can even look at me!”

“Oh.”

“Yeah oh. That's why I don’t want to just go up to him, I can’t.”

“Want to talk about it? Maybe if you talk to me you can figure out what it is you want to do, because I still don’t think you should just sit on this.”

“Want to? Never. Should I? Probably.” They stayed in silence, the news was shocking enough to keep it from being awkward. There was a long pause before Katsuki finally spoke up again.

“Look, everyone knows he was a late bloomer but no one knows how late. It was like a month after school had started we were talking about high school and everyone knew I wanted to go to U.A. then the teacher mentions that Deku wants to go too, but at the time he still didn’t have signs of a quirk, at least that he showed. I had known him my whole life, I knew he wanted to be a hero and I also knew that if he did whatever the entrance exam practical was he would probably die or get seriously injured.

That doesn’t excuse what I said but I didn’t want him to get hurt, no matter how badly I treated him he was my best friend once, hell one of my only friends ever at that point. Everyone else flocked to me because I was flashy and powerful, he was my friend before we had to worry about quirks. So that year I was especially hard on him and it is so fucked up because even then it hurt to be mean to him, and yet I did it anyway because I had the fucked up mindset that he was going to hold me back from being a hero because he could never be one.

Then he jumps into the fucking middle of me and the sludge monster and I was so fucking mad that he did, if All Might hadn’t been there he would have been dead, all to save me who had told him to take a fucking swan dive off of a god damn building earlier that SAME FUCKING DAY.

Eventually, I apologized, obviously, now we are closer than we have been since we were four and you wanna know what he told me when I apologized for telling him to do that? He told me that his thought right after I told him was

‘Idiot! If I had really jumped, you’d be charged with bullying me into suicide!! Think before you speak!’

He was more worried about me getting in trouble than he was about what I actually fucking said to him. What kind of a shitty person can do all that to someone then still try to ask them out huh?! That's not even all, that's the worst of it but I gave him hell to try and protect him instead of growing a fucking pair and just telling him to not be reckless or even being there myself to fucking protect him. The only good thing to come out of that shitshow is that I was the only one fucking with him, no one else dared to bully him because he was my target. Do you hear how fucking awful that sounds? The only good thing I did for him was bully him enough that no one else did. So yeah it’s fucking complicated.

Now I learned his nervous ticks because I’m fucking afraid that I still make him nervous. Like today I saw him start tapping his damn pinky as we got closer to my room and I freaked the fuck out and tried to figure out why he was nervous, how can I try to fucking date someone that I still check to see if they are afraid of me? The answer is I fucking can’t.” As Katsuki finished talking he realized he had tears running down his face, he didn’t even know when he started crying. He never met Kirishima’s eyes, he couldn’t take whatever hatred he was sure they displayed.

“Listen, that’s not who you are anymore, and if Midoriya is still by your side after all of that what makes you think he would abandon you now? I’m not going to push you anymore because it won’t do any good but I still think you should tell him, you talked out your past and now you guys are friends, why does it have to stop there?” Kirishima patted Katsuki’s knee from where he sat next to him. Katsuki finally looked up to see an encouraging smile on his friend’s face.

“Maybe I will. Shit! He’s probably still trying to figure out what happened earlier fuck! He wakes up basically being smothered by me then finds out I have a-” he stopped short.

“A crush?” Kirishima filled in.

“Yes, he thinks I have one on someone else! Fuck, I need to find him.”

“Dude, why don’t you take a second to eat something and clean yourself up? You both missed lunch and, no offense dude, but you kinda look like a mess.” Katsuki looked in a mirror and realized Kirishima was right, he was in rumpled sweatpants and a tank top, his hair was still messy from his nap, and his face was red and slightly puffy.

“Ok yeah, you’re right. Hand me my phone?”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna text pink cheeks and ask her to keep Deku busy until I can go talk to him, I don’t want him to be in the middle of something.”

[Baku] Hey, is Deku with you?

[Uraraka] Why.

[Baku] I need to talk to him.

[Uraraka] About?

[Baku] Does it fucking matter?

[Uraraka] Yeah it kinda does, so why do you need to talk to him?

[Baku] Why does it matter?

[Uraraka] Maybe because I saw him walk out of your room looking like a mess and he won’t tell me why.

[Baku] Fuck, are you serious?

[Uraraka] Yes I’m serious! I keep trying to ask but he keeps changing the subject.

[Baku] Oh shit can you keep him busy for like 20 minutes? I just need some time then I can go talk to him and sort everything out

[Uraraka] Only if you tell me why he doesn’t want to talk about it.

[Baku] Fine whatever, him and I fell asleep watching a movie together Kirishima walked in to find us laying together then the stupid head told him that I like someone but I’m not really sure what part he doesn’t want to talk about.

[Uraraka] When you say laying together you mean…

[Uraraka] Cuddling?

[Baku] Yeah.

[Uraraka] How close were you?

[Baku] Does it matter?

[Uraraka] Yes! I won’t keep him here unless you tell me.

[Baku] Fuck! Fine, he was basically on top of me, hugging me and my arms were around him. Now, are we done? Can I count on him being with you?

[Uraraka] One more thing. When you say you ‘like’ someone, you mean like a crush right?

[Baku] Seriously?

[Baku] Fine. Yes.

[Uraraka] Alright he’ll be with me in the kitchen.

[Baku] Perfect.

“Alright, I have twenty minutes to pull myself together and figure out what to say to him. Fuck, I don’t know what to say to him. What did you say to get Pikachu to go out with you?”

“Oh, we’re already together, we’ve been dating for like three weeks, he and I just thought this would be the best way to get you to ask out Mido.”

“Are you fucking serious?! You know what that is a problem for another time, just tell me how it went down three weeks ago.”

“Well, basically I saw Denki turn down a girl from the support course and so I went and asked him why he said no, he told me she wasn’t his type so I asked him what his type was and he told me that he was into guys so the girl really didn’t have a chance and so I took a risk and asked him if he wanted to go with me to get dinner, like on a date, were my words i think and he said yes. And while we were at dinner we ended up talking about we had both been kinda crushing on each other and he said that and I quote “At least we aren’t as bad as Kacchan and Deku’ and he said your names in air quotes so we came up with a plan to get you to ask out Mido.”

“You are absolutely no help, you are only going to make me mad. Fucking three weeks and you don’t tell me.”

“You have been pining after Mido for like a year now I don't want to hear anything.”

“Fine, whatever, just help me figure out what to say.”

“Just tell him the truth! That would be the easiest thing to do.”

“Ok, you know what I’m going to fix myself up and then go find him I don’t want to hear you anymore you are not making me feel any better.”

“Alright bro, just tell me how it goes ok?”

“Tch yeah whatever.”

Kirishima leaves Katsuki in his room, where he spends the next 15 minutes washing his face, brushing his hair, finding something to wear, and folding the blanket Deku left. Before he knows it, it’s time to head down to the kitchen, but when he gets there he sees Uraraka sitting by herself.

“What the fuck pink cheeks! I thought you said you would keep him here!”

“I did, he's just going to the bathroom, calm down Bakugou.” Katsuki stood facing her, back to the door and let out a sigh.

“So have you figured out what you’re going to tell him?”

“Nope, not in the slightest.”

“I think you should just say it, just tell him ‘Deku I have a crush on you’ just like that.”

“Yeah no I don’t think so, also how do you know that I… like him?”

“Because neither of you is as subtle as you’d like to think, anyway if not just telling him then what are you going to say?”

“I don’t know! All I know is that I can’t just tell him.”

“And why not?”

“Right, yeah. Cause telling him ‘hey Deku i just thought you should know that I have a giant fucking crush on you, so much so that apparently half of this damned school knew before either of us did, and I’d really like to date you if you want to.’ would totally go over well, and why the hell do you keep moving like that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I was trying to tell you to shut up!”

“And why is tha-”

“Hey, Kacchan.”

“Hey Deku. WAIT DEKU!” At this Katsuki finally turned around, blushing like crazy, no matter what he said.

“I’ll let you two talk…” Uraraka made her way out of the kitchen leaving the two boys alone.

“So… how much did you hear?”

“I’ve been here since the first ‘Hey Deku’”

“Oh wow ok yeah she really was trying to tell me to shut up.”

“Um, Kacchan?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you really mean what you said?”

“Well yeah, as much as I wish you hadn’t heard it that way I wasn’t lying.” The two were still in the same places, Deku in the doorway and Katsuki in the middle of the room.

“What about the thing Kirishima said back in your dorm?”

“He was talking about you, dumbass.” Maybe the insult wasn’t necessary, but it made both feel more comfortable, it felt more familiar than anything else at that point. Katsuki decided to lean against the island behind him.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” After Katsuki responded neither spoke for a moment, tension hung around them. Until Katsuki finally broke.

“So, do you want to go get dinner, like on a date? Maybe today?” After Kirishima told him what happened between him and Kaminari, Katsuki couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“OH! Yes! I would love to, today?” Deku seemed to finally realize what was happening as he responded, excitement taking over his features.

“Yeah? You really want to?” Katsuki let himself become hopeful, the entire thing was far more nerve-wracking than he imagined.

“Yes, Kacchan! When and where?” The enthusiasm was clear on Deku’s face and it seeped into Katsuki.

“How about tonight I’ll pick you up at your dorm at six? And where will be a surprise.”

“Sure! That will give me plenty of time to get ready, and it will give me a chance to talk to Uraraka, I need to chew her out for not telling me anything, she saw how much of a mess I wa-”

“Deku! You’re mumbling.” A small, fond smile appeared on Katsuki’s face, although he would never admit it.

“Oh! Sorry Kacchan, sometimes I can’t tell that I’m actually saying things out loud!”

“Nah, it’s fine. I just figured you probably wouldn’t want me to hear everything you were about to say.” A red glow took over Deku’s face, it was unfairly cute in Katsuki’s eyes.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Oh yeah! One more thing, you left your blanket in my room, I folded it up and left it on my bed, do you wanna go get it?”

“Oh no it’s fine, you can just give it to me tomorrow after classes, I don’t need it right away!” The red on Deku’s face got slightly darker.

“Alright, so I’ll just meet you at your dorm at six?” Katsuki finally straightened up, off the counter, and made to walk towards Deku.

“Yeah, sounds perfect!”

“Can't wait,” Katsuki said as he reached Deku. Before he left the kitchen, he leaned down and gave Deku a swift peck on the cheek, with confidence he didn’t realize he possessed at the moment.

The small sign of affection made them both blush madly, but Katsuki quickly walked away before either could realize that they were in a similar state.

As the two separated Katsuki’s mind drifted back to Deku’s pinky, the damned thing was out to ruin his life, but if that was the cost of being with Deku, then he was willing to let it wreak havoc. And if that night, Katsuki fell asleep wrapped in a large blanket surrounded by Deku’s scent, that would be between him and Deku, who was suspiciously happy to find a smell of burnt sugar lingering on his favorite blanket when he got it back.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed if you want to read a sequel of either any of the other pairs mentioned in this fic (maybe a get-together or a snapshot of what these two mean when they say their class needs a matchmaker.) OR if you want to see their date just let me know! I just didn't want to invest so much into this project when I have another request if I didn't know how much of this people would want to read! Thank you again!

Also, what are your opinions on the Mario Kart players? I really want to know what more people think, I've already had two people tell me Baku would play as Bowser but I kinda like him playing as Baby Mario, especially in this context.

#bakudeku #Izukatsu #katsudeku #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #bakudeku fic #izuku midoriya #Katsuki Bakugō #bakugou x midoriya #katsuki x izuku #deku x kacchan #deku #kacchan #writing game #pinky finger

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old-read-all-about-kpop · 6 years ago

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Anonymous: Yo so idk how many request u have rn and I also don't wanna be like... annoying since I already requested two times but I just rlly can't get enough of ur writing so I'd like to request an Ateez reaction to ur bf/gf breaking up w/ u and ur all emotionally messed up and he (as ur bff (who maybe has a lil crushon u)) is kinda comforting u and eventually even confessing idk let ur creativity flow :) hope ur doing good, have a great day/night!!💝~💎

A/N: Yo so you’re not being annoying by requesting multiple times like what! How could you say such a thing? You’re my first anon (I would die for you) and I appreciate your very existence. I am beyond happy in knowing that you enjoy my writing, and I hope you continue to do so. So, without further ado, here is the reaction my love! 💓💓💓💓

Hongjoong

Your pained cries were the only sounds that disrupted the silence in the room. You clung onto Hongjoong like he was your lifeline, and you were close to dying. You felt like it, at least. The pain that has been inflicted on your heart just felt too overwhelming.

Hongjoong, on the other hand, was trying his hardest not to succumb to his anger. For the umpteenth time, your douchebag of a boyfriend - well, ex-boyfriend now thank God - hurt you once again. But, this time, Hongjoong was uncertain if you’d ever come back from this agony.

Your ex cheated on you. After everything you had put up with, the deception, the temper tantrums, the degrading, the possessiveness, the controlling egotistic remarks, he decided to cheat on you on your first anniversary! Unbelievable! Joong knew the guy was a tool but this just put the cherry on the top.

Joong tightened his hold on you, hoping that his embrace would keep you in one piece. He dreaded the moment he would let go and you would crumble like a fragile artifact.

Joong kissed the crown of your head then, hearing you now settle down to heartbreaking sniffles. “I know it hurts, sweetheart.” He sighed heavily. “If only you were mine. I would treat you the way you deserved. Like a goddess.” He said this in a whisper as he rested his chin on the top of your head. He didn’t wish to confess like this while you were so emotional, but he still felt like it should be stated.

You raised your head up the slightest, gently kissing the underside of Hongjoong’s jaw. “I know, Joong. I know.”

Seonghwa

“After everything I’ve done for that prick and he has the audacity to break up with me? The one who helped him get a job? The one who has been giving him money so he can buy food during his lunch breaks? The one who slaves over a hot stove to cook him lunch when he is tired of buying food?” With each jab thrown at the jerk who stormed off after breaking the relationship off, you tore off pieces of the tissue you had in your hands.

You chuckled humorlessly. “You know what? Good riddance!” You began to tear at the innocent tissue angrily. “I never needed him. I never did!” Your speed-tearing faltered, your shoulders dropped. “He wasn’t any real good for me anyway,” you whispered. Your bottom lip quivered. You finally realized that you shouldn’t have dealt with the mistreatment he was giving you as long as you did. You began to realize how foolishly invested you were in that awful relationship. You should’ve known better.

Seonghwa took hold of your chin, leading your eyes to meet his. His gaze was solemn with sparks of anger and disgust that could easily be assumed to be aimed at your slimeball of an ex-boyfriend.

Seonghwa caressed your cheek delicately as if you were prone to breaking under his touch. You probably were by the amount of emotions you were feeling inside. He then wiped away a tear that, unbeknownst to you, slid down your cheek.

“You know you don’t have to put on this false charade of you being unaffected by that douchebag, right? I know you’re hurting inside, y/n. That’s okay. I know you had deep love for him, even though he didn’t deserve one bit of it. But, you’re human, you’re allowed to love and, unfortunately, to feel pain and devastation. So, go ahead, cry. I won’t judge you. Not even a little bit.”

Like a dam that had collapsed from the strength of the water, your eyes polled with tears before they fell like paratroopers. You dived into Seonghwa’s chest, letting out all the heartache that enveloped your body in broken sobs.

Seonghwa didn’t hesitate to pull you closer to him, rubbing your back as you cried. He brushed your hair away from your face and, despite the situation, gazed lovingly at your face and the beauty you humbly held.

As he placed his cheek on the top of your head, rocking you back and forth, he sighed deeply. “When everything has settled down, I would love to dote on you and cherish you the way you deserve.” He chuckled. “I think we both know you earned it after that tragedy.”

You giggled, hiccuping immediately after, unknowingly pulling on your best friend's heartstrings. You tightened your hold on his waist before parting your lips to speak the words Seonghwa didn’t expect to hear in a million years.

“I would love that, SeongSeong.”

Yunho

“Y/n, please, let me in,” Yunho softly said, knocking on your bedroom door. Upon receiving no response, he cursed to himself. He just had to put his foot in his mouth when you needed him.

You called him an hour ago, stating that it was an emergency and you needed him yesterday. Yunho, worried for your well-being, hurriedly packed his duffle bag with clothes and essentials and ordered a Lyft in a matter of five minutes. He didn’t wanna risk keeping you waiting.

Once he got to your place, you two sat down in the living room, where you let out a long-winded rant about your childish ex-boyfriend and how he completely embarrassed you during last night’s date. He assumed you were flirting with the waiter when, in actuality, you were engaging in some playful banter. But, being the stubborn mule that he was, he reprimanded you loudly in front of the other customers. It caused you to be kicked out of the restaurant. You were in shambles, utterly mortified over the spectacle.

And it only worsened from there when you gave him the silent treatment. He started calling you a brat and, eventually, once you got to your apartment, he called you a female dog. That was your last straw with anyone, no matter who they were.

You ended up kicking him out, losing your sense and going ballistic on him. It was satisfying seeing him taken aback by your sudden change in character but, once he was gone, you felt empty. Deflated. You didn’t understand what you did to deserve such mistreatment.

Yunho didn’t help the situation as he snarkily stated, “Well, I told you he was no good for you. But, with your head so far up his behind, I’m not surprised that you didn’t heed my warnings.”

Yeah, like that was what you needed in a time that you wished to be consoled. So, as you tried to keep the hurt and tears out of Yunho’s sight, you hurried for your bedroom. Yunho, quickly realizing his poor timing in wanting to say “I told you so,” raced to catch up with you. But, you were a second quicker as you almost had him kiss wood.

Twenty minutes have passed, leaving you to grow needier for some human contact, and Yunho to dwell in self-loathe. The silence was sometimes disrupted either by Yunho’s deep, sad sighs or your solemn sniffles. Your eyes were dry of any tears. You were back to feeling empty all over again.

“Y/n,” Yunho called, prompting you to look toward the door. “You know why I act like this? I know it isn’t right, nor is it excusable, but, the reason why I responded the way I did earlier was because...I love you. No, scratch that. I’m in love with you. Muffin, I have fallen for you. Your melodic laugh, your gentle tone of voice that could lull a puppy to sleep, your wise eyes, your down-to-earth mindset. I mean, there truly isn’t a thing that isn’t to fall in love with.

Sweets, I’ve always wanted it to be me you’d end up with. But, until now, I’ve been hiding away my feelings like a dog does its tail when scared. I just didn’t wanna risk ruining our friendship. But now I say screw it. Because there is no way in Hell that we could break up. You are the puzzle piece that I need. We connect mentally and emotionally. What I’m trying to say is...is that...” He groaned, fishing for the right words. “What I am saying is that I want to be the man who-”

You pulled the door opened, immediately meeting the adorable brown eyes of the tall prince. You two stared at each other for a while. But, then, the corners of your mouth slowly lifted into a smile. Yunho slowly exhaled, having had held his breath.

You grabbed hold of Yunho’s hand, keeping eye contact the entire time. You lifted his large hand to your cheek, snuggling into the warmth it retained. Yunho could feel himself becoming putty.

“You’re the puzzle piece that I need too, Yunie.” You gazed up at him, showing him acceptance and love that he has been dying to see for the longest.

He felt like he had finally found the hidden oasis to your heart.

“I swear to treat you like the queen you are, muffin.”

Yeosang

“So, I seriously can’t go to his house and egg it?”

You responded first with countless sniffles, trying very hard to reel in your emotions. You dabbed your eyes with a tissue as you spared your best friend a sideways look. “No, Sangie. You can’t egg his house. You could get arrested.”

“But he hurt you.”

“And you think the best way to get back at him is to egg his house? He could just clean that crap off.” You sat back into the couch cushions then, fiddling with the tissue. “No scars are gonna remain.”

Tears quickly welled up in your eyes, causing you to turn away and stifle any whimpers that tried to escape your chapped lips. Yeosang watched you with pity, careful not to let you see it on his face. He knew the minute you do you’ll feel even more pathetic than you already did. You always hated getting doted on or receiving sympathy from others. It eventually led you to shut out your vulnerability, leaving it for the times you are by yourself, sobbing in the confinements of your solidarity.

Yeosang, mustering up as much confidence as he could, grabbed hold of your shoulder and forced you to turn around to face him. You kept your face down, refusing to let Yeosang see you in such a miserable state. But Yeosang didn’t care one bit. He was happy in knowing that you felt comfortable in allowing him see you with your emotions on display, with your heart on your sleeve. He wanted nothing more than to tend to you and your beaten heart.

With a tight grip on his nerve, Yeosang took hold of your face, cupping it in his hands tenderly as if you were a porcelain doll. He rubbed his thumbs across your cheeks, hoping that you could feel his love for you through his soft touches.

“Y/n,” he began before wetting his lips. He took a deep breath in, his nervousness bucking within him like a raging bull. “Darling, you’re so special to me. More than you can ever know. And, as cliche as it may sound, it physically hurts me when you date these boys who don’t respect you. They don’t see the halo that envelops your body. They’re blind to it. Because you are an absolute angel and deserve nothing less than the love and tenderness that you deserve in your life. Y/n, you deserve the world! And...I want to provide it to you. I know it’s probably in poor taste to confess my feelings to you at this sad point in your life but I just felt like I was-”

He was cut off by the feel of your plush lips against his. His eyes were the sizes of soccer balls as he tried to fathom the turn in events. But, the glorious feel of your lips molding into his had his eyes flutter shut. In no time did he recapture your cheeks in his hands. He pulled you in closer, relishing in the blissfulness of finally kissing you. Embracing you to the full extent that he wanted to. He was gonna show you that you were a queen that needed to be worshipped. He was going to cherish you.

San

Quiet sobs and heart-wrenching whimpers were the only sounds that disrupted the silence in your bedroom. You clutched onto San tightly, prompting him to pull you in closer as well. The pain in your heart was overpowering, weighing down on you like cement blocks. The only way to keep you from crumbling under the extreme weight was by holding onto San, who has been nothing but comforting and a great support system.

A couple of minutes passed before your cries ceased. Now, you were just laying on San, thinking of nothing as your face dried from the salty tears that stained your face. San, still being as quiet as a mouse, never stopped rubbing your back. Rising and falling along with his chest as he breathed caused you to fall under the impression that you were on a boat, bobbing along to the calm waves of the ocean. It was a lovely reminder that you were not alone in this awful moment in your life.

You rose up then, causing San to drop his arms from around you and fiddle with the hem of your (his) sweatshirt. He peered at you expectantly, his eyes soft like a puppy’s. You couldn’t help but admire him for a few heartbeats. His face was serene with the slightest hint of sadness. Sadness toward you, of course, his one and only.

He reached his hand out then, lightly touching your face as if not to startle you with the contact. You dipped your face deeper into the palm of his hand, happily welcoming his touch. San smiled then, a gentle one that had yet to be adorned by his dimples.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, San spoke, but quietly as to not harm the silence. “Listen, Y/n... You might not want to hear this right now but, I need to say this or else I will continue to have this restless ache in my heart that I know will kill me one day.

“Princess, you are a gem. You are a precious part of my life that I cherish with every fiber in my body. I hate seeing you frown. Your cries inflict so much pain within me. Baby, you’re a flower. He was weed killer. He was diminishing your light and that was the most sinful thing he could have ever done to you.

“Again, you might not want to hear this but, I love you. I’m in love with you, to be frank. I don’t want to ever see sadness take over your beautiful face. If I ever were to be the cause, I would fall to my knees and repent. And you know why? Because you matter to me. Without you," he sighed heavily, "I don’t think my days would be as bright as they are when you are with me.”

Tears poured over your waterline. But, this time, it wasn’t due to how melancholy you were feeling. No man has ever conveyed such poetic words like San just did. No one went out of their way to say such sweet words to you with as much sincerity and love as San did. His eyes, observing you carefully, were gleaming with hope for your answer and adoration that genuinely displayed his feelings for you.

Without saying a word, you let your actions do the talking. You leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck. Instinctively, San engulfed you with his strong arms, pulling you so close that he could’ve fused your bodies together.

You then placed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting your lips linger on his smooth skin for a few seconds before snuggling into his safe embrace. This is where you belonged. At this moment, you flourished, and thus you wished you could freeze time. You were finally back to being a full-grown flower, no longer wilted, as you had San, your water, soil, and sunlight.

Mingi

Thirty minutes ago, you texted Mingi to come to you two’s favorite spot immediately. And the moment you texted “I need you,” Mingi’s confusion disappeared like smoke as he dashed for the closest hoodie and practically ran out of the dorm.

Now, as you two softly swung back and forth in your chosen swing, you two were embraced by a pregnant silence. It calmed you more ways than one. It seemed to coddle you, providing you some peace that you dearly needed. The fight you and your ex had was explosive, and it didn’t help that you saw a naked broad exit the bathroom, asking in her child-like voice where the shampoo was. To think that you were gonna be the pushing force for him to change his player ways. All your friends warned you and told you that you were putting your heart in the battlefield. Your poor, innocent heart.

Mingi glanced at you nervously, unnerved by your cold expression and hard gaze. Upon his arrival, you merely whispered a “hi” before having him sit with you in this annoying silence. Whispers turned to shouts as they demanded Mingi to say something, anything in order to snap you back into reality. He was afraid you were too deep in your thoughts. He knew you did that a lot when you were bothered by something. But, usually, when you felt hurt, you would confide in Mingi the minute you two saw each other. It was almost like an instinct more than it was a habit.

Mingi, finally gathering some courage, cleared his throat awkwardly. You didn’t even blink. That was when he knew you were in too deep at that moment.

Swiftly, Mingi made his way over to you, standing in front of you. But, you were still unfazed by him. He then seized your face, jerking your head up so you may be looking into his gentle gaze. You blinked then, your eyes widening the slightest at how close you two’s faces were.

Mingi brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his eyes scanning your entire face. Whatever he was preparing to say flushed down his throat like a toilet. He gulped, unintentionally pushing the words further down his throat. He had to clear his throat a few times to prevent himself from choking.

His irises scurried over your face hurriedly, as if they were trying to indulge themselves in your quiet beauty without looking too greedy but also not too stingy.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, talking more to himself than you. “How could someone be dumb enough to mistreat you as if you were some ordinary rock? You’re a freaking diamond, for God’s sake! How does one not know the difference?" He scoffed. "Oh, I know, someone who doesn’t understand true value. But I do and your value goes above and beyond. Because you are worthy and I feel like a peasant as I dream of being with you. Appreciating you. Loving you.” He shook his head slowly, closing his eyes for a moment, and inhaling deeply.

He opened his eyes. Immediately, they refocused on you like a Polaroid. He blanched then, realizing that his rambling was not in the privacy of his mind.

You, on the other hand, had a rosy hue inhabit your face. Your hands were trembling. What your best friend accidentally conveyed to you was your emotional undoing. Your eyes became glassy as you maintained eye contact.

Mingi nibbled his pillowy bottom lip, dreading your reaction to his confession. You just got out of a relationship and he decides now to confess to you? Freaking fantastic!

You inhaled a shaky breath, hesitating on what to say to the beautiful man before you. You slowly swiped your tongue over your lips, parting them the slightest. “Can you help me see my worth?”

Mingi froze, staring deep into your eyes. Your eyes were glossy with vulnerability, an emotion that caused Mingi’s heart to crack. Your eyes held longing but also timidness. The man had to resist the urge to pull you into his chest.

Instead, Mingi bent down and pressed his forehead against yours. Before he fully settled into the position, though, he quickly lifted his head and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. He then put his forehead back on yours, sighing fondly.

“I would be honored to show you, gorgeous.”

Wooyoung

You heard a knock at your door, prompting you to hurry to open it. The minute you whipped it open, revealing the silver-haired young man, you broke out in loud sobs.

“Yah!” Shocked, Wooyoung slammed the door behind him unintentionally hard and yanked you into his chest. He didn’t mean to be so aggressive but, the last thing he expected from your abrupt text was to see you in such an emotional state. You were never a crier. You only ever cried if you were angry or stressed. Thus, Wooyoung’s stress levels were boiling over.

Wooyoung rocked you two back and forth as he tightly embraced you. Your sobs were now muffled but your body shook from each hard cry that escaped your throat. Feeling you shake so violently had Wooyoung’s grip on you tighten even more. You were never the one to have this big of a breakdown. He was getting more and more worried about your mental health as the minutes ticked by. You had a part-time job, lived on your own, had rigorous studies to accomplish at your university, and you had a buffoon of a boyfriend who was inconsiderate and unbelievably rude when things didn’t go his way.

“He broke up with me,” you said in a shaky voice. Your cries calmed down finally, but the condition of your heart was unknown.

Wooyoung abruptly pulled you away from him, his eyes wide like saucers. There was a fire in his stare.

He took hold of your face tenderly as if you were a day-old puppy. His gaze was soft as he scanned your face, but a flame would flicker alive every now and then as he wiped the tears off your lovely cheeks. He felt the vein in his neck throb. He wanted to punch something. Well, preferably, someone, and that someone was your pocket-brained ex-boyfriend.

Wooyoung was snapped out of his angry thoughts when he felt your hand pat his chest. His eyes refocused on you, resuming eye contact.

“Breathe, WooWoo,” you said, a small smile adorning your face.

Just that smile alone gave him a smidge of hope that you would be okay. You needed to be okay. The thought of you being shattered from this breakup and becoming unrepairable destroyed him inside. You were his treasure, and he needed you with him on his journey through life.

Without thinking, Wooyoung leaned in and pressed his plush lips against yours. He suppressed a groan as he could finally feel the softness of your lips. It was thrilling. Like he was eating a forbidden fruit. And then he almost melted onto the floor when he soon felt your lips follow in sync with his, molding perfectly like puzzle pieces that have been united.

Suddenly, you pulled away. Fear, shock, and confusion shown in your eyes as your face remained as calm and collected as possible. You both were breathing unevenly as you watched each other closely. The silence was deafening.

You were the first to break the silence after a while. “Woo... What was that?” you asked slowly, still in a haze.

Wooyoung licked his lips, trying to quickly get a hold of his thoughts. He felt drunk off the long-awaited kiss. “I-I d-don’t know... I-I wasn’t thinking.” He groaned in frustration, running his fingers through his hair. The layers of thick hair moved beautifully, like soft sand on a beach.

Silence fell over the both of you like an itchy wool blanket. You both felt jittery, hyper-sensitive, and utterly uncomfortable.

Finally, Wooyoung blessed you both with a break from the silence. “You know what? I know why I did it. You wanna know why? I’ll tell you! Because I freaking love you that it should be considered illegal!” he exclaimed.

You blinked slowly, processing everything sluggishly as if you were a outdated laptop.

Wooyoung continued, pacing. “God, Treasure! You are too good for this cruel world. I just wanna stuff you in my pocket and protect you from all things evil! But I know that you can handle yourself with no problem, which makes me wanna love you even more! You just don’t understand how much my heart yearns for you, y/n. Your beauty, your humbleness, your intelligence, your cute beauty marks that seem to be scattered over your entire body, and your adorable nose crinkle when I bop your nose is just the thing I need to see to decompress. All of those things cause me to have nothing but undying love for you and I want nothing more than to express that to you and appreciate your existence!” He took a deep breath, pausing from creating a strip in your floorboards. He knew he just spilled everything he felt for you in an angry-sounding rant (the complete opposite of what he had in mind when he would be presented the opportunity to finally confess) but he felt like he was getting closer to combusting the more he kept his feelings under wraps. He felt like he was unraveling.

You soaked everything in like a submerged sponge. You felt as though Wooyoung had some type of crush on you over the years but you grew denial. As handsome as Wooyoung was there was no way that he would like you. You were decent compared to him.

An unknown force got the better of you, pushing you closer to Wooyoung until your lips met his. Wooyoung stiffened for a second before relaxing his body and moving his plush lips against yours, coating them with the love he retained toward you like a salve.

You two separated after a while, taking in deep breaths. You two gazed into each other's eyes the moment you opened them, taking in each other in a new light.

“Be mine, please, Treasure,” Wooyoung said, a strong plea in his hushed tone.

You smiled at the nickname, peering deep into his eyes, knowing good and darn well that no one could ever make you safe from mere eye contact like this man standing before you. You knew your answer before you even conveyed it.

“Give me time and I will.”

Jongho

“Are you sure I can’t break his legs off like an apple?”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance toward the repetitive question. But, despite the fact, you had a little smile on your face. “No, JongJong. You cannot break his legs off like an apple.”

Jongho huffed. “But why not?” he whined.

You fought back a laugh at his childish action. “Because then you would go to jail for assault and I don’t want that. Who would comfort me and remind me of my worth when you’re away?” You said the question quietly, blushing against your will.

Upon your inquiry, Jongho also blushed. He tore his eyes away from your lowered face and looked elsewhere, clearing his throat. He didn’t want to have an awkward ambiance between you two so he decided to speak. “Well, I guess that is a pretty good reason not to risk being locked up. But I’m not happy about letting that kid walk around unbruised.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to deal with it then, huh?” You looked up at your best friend then; your glassy eyes sucker punched Jongho right in his heart.

Jongho licked his lips slowly, carefully contemplating on his next move. You watched him innocently, your mind forcefully made blank for your heart’s sake. You solely wanted to focus on this moment and this moment in life only.

Jongho reached his arm out slowly, hesitating briefly, before laying his hand on the top of your head and then sliding it down, stroking your hair. His actions were comforting to a tenfold. You smiled at the boy, grateful to have him by your side.

“You know I love you, right? More than anything in the world?” he asked, softly. Then he thought for a second before adding quickly, “Well, along with my family, of course.”

You chuckled, looking down momentarily before reconnecting your eyes with his. “Yes, I know.” Your voice was just as soft.

Jongho ran his tongue over his lips a couple of times, almost provoking you to ask him if he needed some chapstick. But, you knew he was only doing that because he was nervous. What you didn’t know was the cause of his nervousness.

He quickly flickered his eyes between your lips and your eyes before seeming to finally decide what he was gonna do. Thus, he leaned in close, causing your breaths to become quite shallow. Your chest felt constricted. The hairs on the back of your neck stood straight up.

For a moment, Jongho stayed there, his lips barely brushing against yours. It was as if he was inhaling your scent, grasping your existence. Finally, he decided to do something better, by kissing your forehead instead. Your breathing stuttered slightly, causing Jongho to smirk. Your reaction gave him hope.

He leaned back, carefully analyzing your face. You provided him nothing as you kept your expression serene.

Moments ticked on like that as you two remained staring at each other. But it was unnerving as you two seemed to be gaining new perspectives of each other. It was a perspective that revolved around an uncharted territory that neither of you could predict the outcomes for entering it.

You finally woke your voice up and spoke. “Why...why did you kiss my forehead?”

Jongho took a deep breath before speaking. “Well, firstly, I don’t think a kiss on the lips would be appropriate due to the state that you’re in right now. And then, secondly, is because I still wanted to express the amount of love I have for your cute self. Also to promise you that I will forever care for you like the precious human being that you are.” He smiled shyly then after conveying such strong words.

You inhaled deeply, your eyes watering quicker than soil that’s been rained on. Jongho, concerned that he might have done something wrong, cupped your face gently as he looked deep in your eyes.

“Crap! I’m sorry, y/n.” He threw back his head and groaned loudly. “The last thing I wanted to do was give you more feelings to deal with. Now, look at you. Jeez! What a great friend I am-”

You cut him off, sealing his words off with your lips pressed against his. Jongho yelped out of surprise but instantly melted into you. He let out a sigh as you two’s lips moved together like calm waves of an ocean, fully indulged in the beautiful sensation of your lips on his. No amount of dreams could compare to the real thing.

Eventually, you two separated, your eyes gleaming with adoration and child-like hope for the next step in you two’s lives. Together.

No further words were said as you two embraced each other, content like no other.

A/N: Yay! I’m finally done with this! 🎉🎉 I would have been done with this one sooner but, for some strange reason, I couldn’t complete it on my phone and had to wait to get on my computer. Thanks Tumblr for making my life difficult for NO REASON! Anyway, at the end of the day, I am done and I am hopeful that you enjoyed it my dear 💓

#requested #💎 anon #it feels so good completing requests #don't worry my loves #i'll be back in the swing of things soon #atzwriters #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios

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raendown · 6 years ago

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Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 6570 Chapter: 8/9 Rated: T+ Summary: When his brother disappears coming home from town Madara goes looking for him only for both to end up taken prisoner in a castle hidden by magic generations ago. The candelabras talk, the furniture sleeps, and a great white beast hides himself away in the eastern wing. As he uncovers the story behind this place and gets to know the last small group of ‘survivors’ Madara gradually makes a new home here in the least likely of places.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 8

If you had asked him even yesterday Madara would probably have said that he never expected to find out what a sleepy tessen fan looked like. Sure he knew that even as inanimate objects his fellow residents here at the castle did need to sleep but they did so in the royal apartments, one of the few areas he still had yet to go back in to. And besides that the only living tessen fan he knew was Mito and she was a woman who clung to her poise at every minute of every hour. Seeing her sleepy, in his mind at least, would be like seeing Tobirama sit in the middle of the floor to start crying.

Yet there she was floating in to the room with her painted eyes half-lidded and her thin lips opened for a yawn while Hashirama flustered along the ground beneath her. Behind them Tobirama slinked in as best he could with cloven hooves in place of feet.

“Why does Hashirama look so panicked?” Madara asked him quietly. He was fairly sure he already knew the answer and though he hoped it wasn’t true those hopes were dashed by the sad red eyes turning away from him.

“He fears for his wife. She is…not well.”

“You mean she’s sick?” It said a lot that his tone was almost hopeful but again he was disappointed.

“No, she is not ill. She is tired. It has come as a shock to both of us.” Tobirama fell in to stillness and closed his eyes, visibly attempting to rein in his emotions, and Madara couldn’t blame him. He hated that his guess was right. This was the last thing he wanted for any of the friends he’d made here.

Keeping a weather eye on her floating form as she took over the cooking, he allowed himself to be shooed away to go sit on Tobirama’s other side. “She’ll be okay though, right? I see her every day and she’s never shown any sort of…tiredness.”

It took his companion a while to answer. In that time Madara watched as Mito sent her husband apologetic yet muted smiles to which he responded by attempting to wring his hands together. Even the way she drifted through the air seemed almost listless, weaving side to side rather than her usual straight lines, movements sluggish where normally she zipped from place to place with an effortless decorum. How a fan managed to affect decorum he couldn’t say but it was one word that always came to mind whenever he watched her working.

“Her pain was kept well hidden from us all until today,” Tobirama murmured eventually. He couldn’t seem to look at anything but the floor, each word a low rumble so as not to drift across the room. “She is tired, as are we all, but I did not realize she had given up on hope after all this time. Of us all she has always seemed the strongest. Now she feels that with you and your brother here she need not worry for her husband and she has lost the strength to keep herself awake. It won’t be long.”

“Until?”

“She will fall asleep,” was the simple, heartbreaking answer.

Madara didn’t need more than that to understand. She would fall asleep as so many others had and become nothing more than another object in the cavernous halls to sit still and collect dust. Just thinking about how devastated Hashirama would be by her loss made him shudder and push the image from his mind, snagging Tobirama by one wrist and turning to pull him from the room without warning.

“You are not responsible for this,” he hissed the moment they were alone in the hallway. When Tobirama flinched he knew he had hit the mark.

“It is I that keeps them all trapped in this–”

“No, it’s that crazy witch lady who trapped you all here. Maybe they don’t quite agree with how you feel but not one of them blames you for it.” He nearly growled with frustration to see the other wrinkle his brow with disagreement.

Still not lifting his eyes from the floor, Tobirama ran a hand through his wild hair, stopping when his fingers ran in to one of the horns growing out the top of his head. He paused to trace the ridges with disgust shadowing his face. “If I were a stronger man I would have freed them from this hell decades ago. If I were still a man at all.”

Disgust turned to shock when Madara punched him square in the chest. With the sheer size of his current form the blow did very little but it was enough to break him from his thoughts and force his gaze up to see that Madara was angry. Not truly angry in the sense that he was offended in any way but there was certainly a good heavy irritation building up inside him after going over the same words again and again with no progress. Utterly done with having to repeat himself, Madara reached up and snagged a fistful of the man’s collar to pull him down so their faces were of a level, staunchly ignoring the fact that he only succeeded because Tobirama followed the motion probably out of pure disbelief.

“I’m gonna say this again and you’re gonna clean the shit out of your ears and listen this time,” he growled. “You are a man. And a damn good one. You can have all the pity parties and magic tricks you like and that won’t change anything. You’re a human with human feelings and just because they hurt doesn’t mean you get to run away from them!”

“Madara…”

“No! Shut up! You think I didn’t feel like a monster when I figured out our parents abandoned us? You think I didn’t feel like an unwanted burden not good enough even for the people who made me? Well I got over it! And you’re just going to have to get over this!”

“It is not as easy as–”

With a snarl Madara cut him off again. “You might not think so but it really is! You have had a hundred damned years to wallow in your little pity party but it needs to stop! You think you did a terrible inhumane thing. Fine. So make up for it! Atone! It if makes you feel better you can abdicate the throne and run away to live the harrowing life of a peasant. I know a stable you can help me muck out. But for the love of all the gods just- would a monster feel the guilt that you do!?”

Tobirama had no answer. He seemed a little too busy gaping with his jaw hanging loose and from this close Madara couldn’t help but note that it was a startlingly adorable expression on him. Actually there were several things he had the chance to notice now. With the height different between them he’d never seen Tobirama’s face in such detail but from merely an inch or so away he could see the exact garnet red shade of his eyes, the soft almost peachy pink of his lips and the frown lines around them. Twisted his features might have been but there were enough hints towards the handsomeness his true self would wear that Madara very nearly blushed.

Since he was still more angry than anything else he did no such thing. He did let go of the clothing in his grasp, awkwardly smoothing it out in apology when Tobirama failed to straighten right away.

“You’re so caught up in what you see in the mirror,” he continued, “that you can’t see what’s actually on the inside. If you looked at yourself like I do you wouldn’t see a monster.”

“Peace,” Tobirama breathed, holding up both hands in surrender.

“Oh believe me, I’m feeling mighty peaceful right now.”

His companion let out a single humorless puff of laughter. “Indeed. Madara…the way you speak of me is…I am glad you came in to our lives. I’m glad to have known you. The things you say mean more than I can express and I don’t think I could ever repay you for the kindness you have shown me.”

“It’s not kindness, its basic human decency.” Madara sniffed haughtily.

“There are many who would not offer even that. I…”

Seeing Tobirama hesitate was odd, enough so that Madara felt almost obligated to put him out of his misery. The man needed to hear these things but every time he tried to bring them up he found himself incredibly weak to the flash of vulnerability that followed his words. Confident that Tobirama would think on what he said, he awkwardly patted one massive arm and cleared his throat.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry I yelled, you’re obviously already stressed about the situation.”

“No need to apologize, you were in the right to stop me from spiraling in to a darkness that would help no one. That is not what I had intended to address however. I wished to tell you, ah, how I feel.”

“God, please, no.” Madara retracted his hand to slap it over both eyes. “Don’t get touchy feely on me, I’ll break out in to hives.”

“Oh.”

When he peeked Tobirama looked so downcast it sent a wave of guilt burning through his gut and Madara hurried to balm the wound he’d just made. “We’re friends and I know you appreciate me, I swear I do. I just, ugh. You don’t need to compose sonnets or anything about it okay? I’d burn up from embarrassment.”

“Friends, yes.”

“Right.”

After staring at him for a long time with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher Tobirama took a deep breath and let it out slowly before indicating the door back in to the kitchen. “Shall we rejoin the others?”

“Are you alright to go back in?”

“Yes, I should attend to my brother and his wife. It is only proper that I offer what comforts I can.” His words were stiff with what Madara could only assume to be some embarrassment of his own. That was understandable. Madara himself didn’t deal very well with the shameful disaster that was expressing himself so he could hardly blame anyone else for the same struggle.

The kitchen, when they entered, was filled with silent tension that even Kagami seemed unwilling to break. Madara would be tempted to check the boy’s temperature if he thought wooden soldiers could have a temperature. Did their animated chattel bodies have any physiological human characteristics? Something to ask about. At the moment he kept his focus on the way Hashirama had settled himself on the edge of the kitchen counter with the stubborn expression of a watchdog. If he still possessed muscles and feet Madara could only imagine they could have been spread to set himself in an unmovable stance much like young village lads playing tackle ball games in the fields.

It was easy to understand his concern but it was also quite easy to see the tightness of Mito’s illustrated lips. She looked much more alert now, thankfully, and did not seem to appreciate her husband’s stubborn hovering. Knowing that increasing the tension would not do anyone any good Madara stumped over and unceremoniously scooped a protesting Hashirama up, carrying him along to find a seat where he usually did.

“Madara, my good man, I must insist you return me to my station!”

“Your station is off to one side admiring her ‘pretty folds’ and completely missing the dirty implications of your own words.” He gave his friend an unimpressed look and poked him until he fell down on his backside. On the other side of the table Tobirama held one hand up to cover a weak smile.

“I would never make lewd observations in public!”

“That you know about,” Madara grunted.

He accepted the smile Mito gifted him when she brought his salvaged breakfast as the gratitude it was meant to be and said nothing further, listening with only one ear as Hashirama went off on some rant about respecting the fairer sex and maintaining decorum. Anyone who skidded around corners so fast they crashed in to walls on a weekly basis had no room for lecturing about decorum.

Breakfast was delicious, though for once he neglected to say so. No way was he admitting that Mito’s cooking really was that much better than his own. Izuna, on the other hand, had no qualms about loudly declaring how glad he was to avoid eating his big brother’s cooking again after so long without. The comparisons he made were less than flattering despite years of his compliments for the chef. Madara made sure to give him a hefty swat on the back of his head on the way to wash his dishes in the sink. No matter how many times they assured him that none of the dishware they used had ever been a reanimated human he simply couldn’t bring himself to leave them dirty.

Just in case.

The possibility of Mito’s declining mental state seemed like a family matter so Madara was well prepared to drag his brother away once they had both taken care of their dishes and probably lock themselves away for some quality time of their own. He was more than a little startled to have Hashirama invite them to join the castle residents for the day, spending time together as one big happy group. A rarity and an honor. Madara accepted the invitation easily and, with Izuna trailing along behind curiously, he walked next to Tobirama in companionable silence as they all made their way up a floor to gather in a lovely sunroom he’d never seen before, darker now as the afternoon faded but the fire Hashirama lit gave off enough light to admire rich furniture and tasteful décor.

Since half of their little gathering didn’t exactly take up much space the three of them without any bulk all settled on a low table centered in the middle of the seating area, Izuna carefully draping himself over a massive armchair while Madara settled next to Tobirama on a small couch. Considering how much furniture there was about they didn’t really have to sit together but it felt ridiculous to have all three of them with bodies spread out when it would be much easier to converse if they were all closer. And if he happened to enjoy the rather pleasant scent of sandalwood coming off of his friend then that was for him to know and hopefully no one else to find out. It was his own business if he made sure to angle his body to lean a bit more towards the opposite side of the couch where every shift and movement of Tobirama’s body sent another waft of pleasant aromas through the air. His friend must have bathed before dinner as well.

For the most part conversation stayed light as everyone tried to keep their mind off of the way Mito wasn’t quite as interactive as she might normally have been. While she could never be described as exuberant neither was she the type to withhold her opinion if she had one but today she offered very little, resting quietly on the tabletop and looking as though she would dearly have loved to fold up her ribs and rest.

Hating the guilt that shadowed Tobirama’s face every time he so much as glanced in her direction, Madara did what he could to keep the conversation going between them even when the rest of the group branched off on to other topics. Distraction was not allowed. If he had to be the center of Tobirama’s focus for the rest of the day he would even if he didn’t see himself as all that interesting. Luckily for him it was never very hard to keep the other’s attention.

“You never ride them?” Tobirama asked after listening with a muddled frown to a description of how Madara spent most of his days back home.

“No, they’re not mine.”

“But you are caring for them, do you not take them out for exercise in a yard or field?”

Madara lifted one eyebrow. “It’s an inn tavern, you sheltered noble. I just watch them while their owners get drunk and then I have to let them go again to carry the sodden asses back home.”

“Well that strikes me as incredibly dangerous. One should never travel whilst inebriated.”

“Have you ever been inebriated?”

“Such things are unseemly,” Tobirama sniffed. When his eyes opened again it was to peek and make sure his brother wasn’t listening. “However I must admit that, yes, I have experienced it and did not understand the attraction. The devils of drink were always more Hashirama's vice, not mine.”

“Weak stomach?” Madara nodded sagely.

He delighted in the bitchy look that earned him. For a king Tobirama had some excellent bitch faces.

“I will have you know that my constitution is far above average.”

“Oh so you’re an expensive drunk then. I can get that. Didn’t want to waste the money it takes to get you plastered?”

Tobirama’s face pinched even tighter. “For your information I was indeed in charge of the royal coffers and not once was it ever a concern whether or not I was spending too much on such frivolities as alcohol! I have some decorum!” He paused to visibly compose himself, then added in a flippant tone, “Unlike some others here.”

It took effort to clamp his teeth down on the gleeful snicker that wanted to escape.

“You trying to say something?” Madara demanded instead, valiantly holding in his laughter.

“Why, I would never raise such implications against your person – unless you deserved it of course. Should I direct my inquiries to your sibling?” Tobirama cast his gaze across the room to where Izuna had kicked his feet over one arm of the chair and tossed his head back against the other arm with raucous laughter. He smirked openly when Madara scrambled to wave both hands forbiddingly without drawing too much attention to them.

“Don’t you dare!” he hissed.

Tobirama hummed and settled back in to his seat a little more firmly, a silent declaration that he would have mercy this time. “Perhaps it is best I determine my answers from the source, as it were. I don’t suppose you would care to join me for a nightcap?”

“Eh?” Spinning his head around to check the window, Madara frowned. “It’s not really night yet.” When he looked back Tobirama was giving him a look that said he had definitely missed something, though he had no guesses what that something might be. A nightcap was supposed to be a drink at the end of the night as far as he knew. Something to end your day with. He was pretty sure. It was one of those words that no one down at his end of the social totem pole ever used.

“You interpret the word too literally. I meant only to invite you to my room for a drink.”

“What, trying to get me drunk? Is that your way of throwing a challenge?”

“Ah, if you choose to see it as one.” Tobirama shook his head as if disagreeing with himself but before Madara could question it he affected a smile and added, “Any time with you is time well spent. Even if you do insist on hearing only the spaces between whatever meaning I am attempting to convey.”

Madara gave him a funny look, to which Tobirama lifted one eyebrow, a challenge asking him to refute such claims. He really wished he could but as much as he always enjoyed a good argument he really wasn’t clear on what he was arguing against. It felt like lately he was always missing something whenever he spoke with Tobirama – which was pretty much every day. The more time they spent together the closer they became and the cycle could only wind inwards infinitely. But if sharing a drink at the end of the day was what he wanted then Madara certainly wasn’t going to say no. It wasn’t often he got to enjoy a mug or two, not usually able to afford it, and when he did it was almost always the swill at the end of the barrel after the innkeeper finished serving his ‘more important’ guests.

Plan in mind and determined not to make a drunken fool of himself too easily, Madara gave his companion a friendly shove before lifting his head to respond when Izuna called him from across the seating area. He was easily drawn in to a debate over whether the cloth produced by a spinning jenny could really be the same quality as one produced by a team of workers spinning by hand. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how far behind the times these folks were and how little they knew of the world’s latest technologies.

The silly debate ended with Hashirama demanding that Izuna craft a spinning jenny for him to try for himself, to which Izuna responded by nearly falling off his chair with laughter and holding out both soft-palmed hands.

“You think I’m the worker of the household? I’m an invalid, your highness, I haven’t done much more than simple house chores since I was a boy.” He seemed quite pleased with his excuse too. Madara grumbled just loud enough to get his point across the room but his brother ignored him. “Even if I was I wouldn’t know how to make one for myself.”

“Oh. I rather thought…hm.” Hashirama didn’t seem to know what to do with himself, a little consternated, a little confused.

“Thought what?”

“It was my thought that if one understood how to use it then surely one must understand how to construct it.”

Madara relaxed from where he’d been about to burst in to laughter in case Hashirama made some dumbass comment about the entire working class sharing skills. That was just the sort of empty-headed assumptions he was used to hearing from nobles but he should have known to expect better of his friend. Not that the assumption he did end up making was all that much smarter.

“The improvements he has made continue to impress me,” Tobirama said quietly and Madara didn’t have to follow his gaze to know he was watching Izuna.

“No kidding. Thank you again. For helping.”

“You need not thank me.”

“I do need to. You can’t know…well I guess you can know what it’s like to lose a brother. We already had to bury the rest of our siblings but I don’t have to bury him and that’s thanks to you. I owe you everything.” His cheeks were burning by the time he’d finished saying his piece and Madara considered giving Tobirama another shove to bring the mood of their conversation back out of the seriousness he’d just dove down in to.

Thankfully Tobirama seemed to recognize what he needed. “If you absolutely must pay recompense then I shall consider your acceptance of my offer for a nightcap as such. Mayhap I truly will get you – ah, what was the term you used? – plastered.”

Madara roared with mirth to hear such a colloquial term from the fanciest idiot he’d ever met. His laughter caught the attention of Hashirama, who he then had to explain to what it meant to get plastered. The conversation turned then to include the entire group as they all traded embarrassing stories about each other under the influence of alcohol or other accidentally ingested substances. Most of the latter were stories about Tobirama stumbling out of his laboratory to report on unknown reactions with new chemicals. Madara liked those ones, although he didn’t appreciate Izuna’s lurid descriptions of the few times he had stumbled home from the inn after being allowed the dregs of his so-called betters. The one story about Mito and her bloomers, on the other hand, he found particularly amusing.

Even more amusing was seeing the stars in little Kagami’s eyes and watching Hashirama awkwardly try to talk him out of the idea that he too wanted a good drinking story when he was finally able to grow old enough. High moral values were difficult to impart with Izuna egging the poor boy on from the sidelines.

Such antics eventually led to the end of their evening all together, Mito shaking the stupor away long enough to scold her husband for encouraging Kagami towards such raunchy behaviors and refusing to hear anything about him being the only one trying to protect the child. When she expressed her fatigue Hashirama's face fell in response. In an instant he was up and fussing around, encouraging her to bed and bidding the rest of them a good night. After watching them go Izuna’s mood seemed to have dimmed as well. Before long he was scooping up Kagami and trotting off with the toy soldier in tow, murmuring together like co-conspirators on their way out. Madara wondered if his brother planned to let the boy sleep in his bed for the night and what might happen if Izuna rolled over in his dreams. He would need to stay alert for screaming.

“It seems we have been abandoned,” Tobirama observed to the otherwise empty room.

“Time for that drinking contest you were calling for?”

“Have a bit of class, I pray.” Sticking his nose in the air, his friend affected the snootiest expression he’d ever seen, clearly exaggerated for comic effect. “To waste such fine sake on something as crude as a contest to see which of us may imbibe more! Heavens forbid.”

“Oh quit being such a ponce!” Madara told him.

Watching Tobirama preen to have amused him with a good joke was hilarious, though he opted not to say anything. Embarrassing the man could only end in having any offers of alcohol revoked and Madara found that he was quite in the mood for a few drinks. Magnanimously choosing to be merciful, he instead waved for his friend to lead the way and followed with giddy anticipation, curious to finally have his first proper look around the royal apartments. He knew someone of Tobirama’s station probably had an entire set of rooms to himself so they were most likely just moving to a different type of sitting room but he could guess that it was still quite an honor.

As they shut the door of the sunroom and set off down the hall he turned to his friend with a curious expression. “Wait, we’re drinking sake? That’s supposed to be rice wine right?”

“Indeed it is. Have you never had the pleasure?”

“No. Usually all I have is whatever beer gets leftover in people’s mugs at the end of the night. Already paid for, you know? The innkeeper would never give me anything for free and I don’t usually have the money to spare for being choosy.” He shrugged because that was the way of things in his life and there was little point in getting all riled up about it.

Turning a corner brought them past a window, light from the rising moon flickering across the deep creases between Tobirama’s brows where he had pulled them in to a frown. “How very uncharitable of him. You deserve much better than the leftovers of men who could never hope to be your equal.”

“Damn, back at it with the flattery.” Madara tossed his hair over one shoulder. He noted the way Tobirama’s gaze followed the motion though he didn’t think much of it since the man was probably just wondering what it would be like to have so much hair thick and heavy on his own head. A lot of people asked questions about his hair. Not many of them were very happy with the honest answer that he had grown it out mostly by accident at first and then because he was stubborn in the face of so many people telling him to cut it. Apparently he needed to have some kind of important motivation or something to make it understandable.

“Would you have me be unflattering?” A few beats too late Tobirama finally replied.

“Can you be?” he asked skeptically. “You’re not too much of a prissy royal to mince words with a commoner like me?” The grin he threw was more of a challenge than if he’d tossed a gauntlet on the floor between them and words could not express how thrilled he was when the other took that challenge.

Drawing himself up even as he drew the tapestry out of their way to invite Madara in to the royal apartments, Tobirama affected a mocking glare. “You look death’s head upon a mop stick you foppish, cow-handed gasser. Do you think me uneducated in the lower speech?”

The only response Madara had to that was to throw his head back and wheeze for air, shamelessly holding on to the other’s arm to keep himself upright. Never in his life had he heard something so nonsensical yet delivered with such unadulterated bitchiness. Something told him that none of those insults were in any way related to each other but relevancy was hard to focus on when he could barely think passed how utterly ridiculous it all sounded. Old timey insults were hilarious. Hearing them out of Tobirama’s mouth only made them so much better.

It wasn’t much farther to where they were going but they spent the rest of their walk trading insults that only grew more and more absurd as they went. By the time they stumbled in to a lavish sitting room they were ready to fall over in a dual fit of the giggles, although Tobirama somehow managed to retain a small bit of decorum even in this. Madara was starting to think he would have to challenge the idiot to a mud wrestling competition or something just to see him act entirely like a normal person.

“Right!” he declared as soon as he’d caught enough breath back to form words. “Where’s this sake you were talking about? I’d love to wake up tomorrow and whine about a hangover.”

“If you disrespect my vintage so I may be tempted to defenestrate you.” Tobirama lifted one eyebrow warningly.

While Madara tried to work his way through whatever ‘defenestrate’ was supposed to mean Tobirama stepped over to a side table and removed a small set very similar to something the innkeeper had brought out only once when a military captain happened to pass through their small village and demanded the finest services the poor could offer. Madara hadn’t liked him much but he could remember being very curious of whatever clear booze had been poured for him.

The set of dishes laid out before him was a hundred times fancier than the one at the inn, he could tell that at a single glance. Black lacquered porcelain with fine gold filigree forming what he could only assume was a house crest on each, a matching decanter and a tray with gold trim to carry it all, it probably cost more than the collective entirety of Madara's possessions both here and in the village. He kept his hands carefully by his sides at he leaned closer to admire the craftsmanship of each piece. But when he sat back and looked up he noticed Tobirama watching him expectantly.

“In this weather there is little need for the sake to be chilled elsewhere, as luck would have it.” His tone was casual, if a little impatient. Madara nodded slowly.

“Didn’t know it needed to be cold.”

“Some are served chilled, others served hot. This here is perhaps my favorite. I’m glad of the opportunity to share it with you.”

More curious than ever, all Madara could do was nod again. “Cool. Share as you like.”

A long pause stretched out for what felt like forever in which neither of them moved and he tried to figure out why Tobirama had offered the sake but wasn’t actually moving to serve it. It took a couple minutes before finally the man rolled his eyes with all the drama his brother usually managed and carefully stepped over to fiddle at the delicate ceramic with his thick clawed hands.

“What?” Madara demanded. “You’re looking at me like I’ve done something wrong. I’m just sitting here!”

“Precisely. When sharing a drink one is expected to pour for one’s betters.”

“Ooh, you saying you’re better than me?”

“I never said such a thing.” The serene tone of his voice was a dead giveaway but Madara refused to laugh just yet, clinging to his pretended offense.

With arms crossed he stuck his nose in the air and declared, “You inferred it!”

“One implies. It is up to the recipient to infer, though what inferences you make are surely beyond my control. Heavens forbid I ever claim to understand how a mind such as yours might work.” Tobirama, unfortunately, was much better at playing snooty. No doubt a lifetime of practice was no blame.

“I want to say you just implied that I have a crazy mind but I can’t quite parse it out because you always talk so damn fancy!”

That finally broke his friend. A smile cracked Tobirama’s stern expression and Madara pumped both fists in the air with triumph, eliciting a low chuckle. “Pour the drink, you hooligan, before I am lowered to doing so myself.”

“Now that’s something for the heavens to forbid or whatever.”

Since he had already won Madara figured it wasn’t losing in any way to let himself smile as well as he snatched up the chilly decanter and poured them each a dish of the clear liquid he had only seen once before. Being made of rice he would have thought their little farming village could make this stuff in abundance but for the fact that all of their rice went to paying taxes and supporting the lord of the closest town since technically he owned their land.

Actually, he realized, even more technically Tobirama probably owned the land, though likely no one remembered that.

Clinking their glasses together was a much more delicate affair with such small dishes than he usually witnessed in the rowdy tavern and despite his care Tobirama still rolled those pretty red eyes like he’d done something country bumpkin again. Madara ignored him, tossing back the drink in one mouthful. His abilities had been questioned and he was determined to make a good showing of himself.

Of course, because that was just his luck, he was spluttering and coughing in the next instant as the rice wine burned his throat and his eyes began to water, one fist coming up to pound his chest as though he could beat the sensation back out of himself.

“That stuff has a kick!” he wheezed, much to Tobirama’s obvious amusement.

“It would not have affected you half so much if you were not such a boor as to pour it down your gullet like goat’s milk. Fine sake is meant to be appreciated, not guzzled.”

“A little warning would have been nice!”

“Had I given you warning,” Tobirama murmured, “that would not have been so funny.”

Madara opened his mouth to retort and cut himself off with another coughing fit. He wanted to be annoyed but he also had to admit that he would have done the exact same thing if their positions were reversed. In light of that he grunted and pounded his sternum a few more times without saying anything. He could almost breathe again by the time Tobirama settled next to him on the couch with delicate movements, ever so careful not to spill a drop of his own drink.

A quick look around told him that they didn’t necessarily need to sit right next to each other. Just like the sunroom, there was plenty of furniture here and they would have able to hear each other just fine from different seats. Madara neglected to say anything. Sitting together like this gave the room a much more casual and intimate air so it felt less like dining with the king and more like drinking with a friend. He wondered if that was Tobirama’s intention but didn’t ask, content with the mystery. Instead he reached to pour himself another cup and listened to his friend go off on a lecture about how it was polite to offer one’s companions a refill when one wanted some for themselves.

Several cups later he had convinced Tobirama to give up on the idea of proper manners but he had also somehow managed to lay sideways on the couch with his legs tossed over the arm and his head pillowed against one of his friend’s thighs. Every time Tobirama looked down he began mumbling about propriety again, which for some reason struck Madara as the funniest thing. He kept imagining some highborn lady walking in on them and fainting to see them being so familiar with each other. A few times he imagined Hashirama doing it and that was even better.

“I don’t think I can get up,” he confessed after struggling to reach for the sake yet again and failing to even reach the table. “Might have to just pass out right here.”

“Scandalous,” Tobirama murmured, though it really didn’t sound like an objection.

“You look like you’re gonna pass out too,” Madara noted. He giggled under the squinting eyes that tried to glare him down yet only managed to focus somewhat to the right of where his head actually lay.

“I will have you know that I am per-fen-ec-tally fine.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment while Madara tried to work his way through that.

“What?”

“I’ll not be repeating myself. I am not sure that I could, in fact, as memory seems to have abandoned me. What were we talking about?” Tobirama raised his head again only to drop it back against the couch where one could only assume he was watching the ceiling spin in circles. At least, that’s what Madara was doing.

Wriggling a bit until he’d found a more comfortable position, Madara closed his eyes to block out the world. “I think we were going to sleep.”

“No. No! I had something I wished to discuss with you! Something of utmost importance!”

“Can it wait until we’ve slept?”

“I…yes, alright.” The sheer defeat in Tobirama’s voice in addition to the bone-melting exhaustion of both their bodies was enough to have Madara giggling again, albeit very weakly. Now that he’d said he was tired it was like sleep had grown claws and sunk them in deep, pulling, pulling him down when he was too weak to resist.

Humming pleasantly, turning his face to burrow against the warmth pillowing his head, Madara gave a few sleepy mumbles that might have been translated in some languages as a sort of goodnight. Tobirama mumbled something back but sleep must have gotten its claws in to him too and they were both fading fast. Whatever he said was lost to the ceiling and the uncaring shadows that cradled them deeper in to the night.

A moment later the room was silent but for the even breaths of two men prepared to regret their choice of pastimes come morning.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #kagami #izuna #mito #fanfiction

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pekorosu · 6 years ago

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no.6 novels thinky thoughts

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so… i ended up finishing all 9 vols in about a week haha.

my overall impression? it was… alright, i guess.

not that i didn’t enjoy it, in fact, the first half was great! by the time i reached the end though, i had mixed feelings. sat on it for a week or so but a lot of it remains a vague hhhmmmmmblah blob that i’m not done figuring out.

i still wanna make a post as a form of closure for myself though, so i’m just gonna dump whatever comes to mind here. don’t mind me.

so... the ending. i guess it was supposed to be open-ended in a hopeful way, but it just came across as unsettling to me. the ~chosen one~ thing rubbed me the wrong way, because shion was entrusted with an enormous responsibility that no 16 year old should even be shouldering in the first place. (i mean yea okay he did willingly accept it, but still. why only him? why aren’t they all collectively responsible?)

meanwhile the actual perpetrators get to escape all the consequences by just… dying. just like that. and the rest of them, especially the adults… they’re pretty much useless? even the ones that wanted to do something by staging a revolt ended up being unreliable either bc 1. they were drunk on revenge or 2. all that power was getting to their head. ironically, rou was like “it’s all on us, the adults” but in the end even he decided to just spend the rest of his life chilling out underground -_-

on top of that, shion had to let go of nezumi. idk about y’all but that ending, that “promise to meet again” kiss was like… i couldn’t help but wonder if nezumi only did that because shion was all “a world without you is meaningless” and he had to give him something to cling onto. followed by shion’s devoted “i’ll keep waiting” which… idk, something about it felt utterly depressing. to be fair, nezumi always keeps his promises and the epilogue was vaguely hopeful i guess, but it still didn’t give me the sense of closure that i needed.

to clarify, i’m not saying it’s a bad ending. it’s realistic and the implication that there’s still a lot of work to be done is very much in line with the story’s themes. just that something about it didn’t work for me personally, plus the lead up to it felt rushed, so it left me feeling :/ when i was done.

the plot… well, it started out exciting but turned out to be rather anticlimactic? the shift from science to supernatural had a proper build up, but still felt like a letdown for some reason…

i think... maybe it’s bc dystopian stories tend to culminate in a huge battle and stuff like that, while this one just… didn’t. there was no final showdown with the Big Bad. there was chaos, but it hadn’t descended into total devastation yet, with the ultimate message that maintaining peace is always more preferable in order to prevent any more senseless deaths. and i guess that threw me off a little? not in a bad way, it was just unexpected bc i’m so used to the whole “final boss” format.

speaking of which, the antagonists were very one-dimensional, and for dictators they were surprisingly… weak. i mean, i get that hubris was precisely the reason for their carelessness and subsequent destruction, but it felt too convenient, too simple.

and i was sorta expecting something more gruesome when they got to the top floor of the correctional facility. idk, i guess brains floating in tubes just couldn’t compare with that scene of them climbing a mountain of corpses+half-alive people, which i had the misfortune of reading right before dinner. that was straight up horror.

and for all its depiction of the horrors of a police state, of poverty, famine, genocide… i felt like it stopped short of something. this isn’t meant to be a proper critique ofc, just that i remember feeling like the writing came across as wishy-washy or superficial at times, even though i knew the author’s intention wasn’t to hand out answers, but to get the readers to think. something about the way it was handled left me feeling unsatisfied i guess.

that said, there were stuff that i did like! eg. i liked how the story dealt with the “we’re all human beings” statement from shion. it started out as a simple, idealistic “all lives matter” kind of thing, only to be turned on its head when he comes face-to-face with the kind of atrocities no.6 has committed. then it becomes less about that and more “our shared humanity means that we too have the capability to become cruel and apathetic.” or at least, that was my takeaway.

hmm… in hindsight, i think it does what it set out to do well enough. that is, to convey a certain message to a certain group of people (teenagers i guess. this is YA after all). to inspire them to think for themselves, to realise that apathy is dangerous and to take responsibility for their own learning, but also to know that doing the “right” thing is not just about good intentions; it is constant hard work but still important work... among others. all of which are solid themes and messages. god knows when i was younger and learning about all this for the first time, even the simplest things would leave me mindblown for days. if i’d read this back then i imagine it would’ve left a bigger impression too.

the main highlight for me though, was probably the character scenes. i was surprised to find out how introspective the story was, with the majority of it dedicated to the characters’ internal thoughts and conflicts.

sadly though, the side charas’ POVs (like inukashi’s and karan’s) ended up becoming tediously repetitive and draggy despite starting out strong. and safu… poor safu, she pretty much got the shortest end of the shit stick being the Plot Device Damsel In Distress Who Is Eventually Fridged. i had higher hopes for her ):

as for the rest… i don’t really care about rikiga… and who else… oh right! small nezumi team! hamlet, cravat and tsukiyo. 10/10 love them, would never get tired of their cute little squeaks.

and the protags… shion started out kinda bland but ended up being the easiest to relate to haha. eg. his constant struggle to reconcile his personal ideals with practical reality. and it was interesting to see how he confronted and came to terms with some harsh truths. he always tries so hard. sometimes it hurt to read, but it made me want to root for him and in a way, it gave me strength too.

also his apparent “lack of interest” in sex/women/etc... i know it’s generally played for laughs or to highlight his ~naivete~ or ~immaturity~, but whatever lol it’s something i can relate to it v strongly.

nezumi took a while for me to warm up to even when i understood why he is the way he is. the callousness, hostility, volatility… they’re all defense mechanisms rooted in his trauma, but still, knowing that didn’t make him any less irritating lol. he could be deeply hypocritical at times and his tendency to randomly explode at shion was grating. on the plus side, it’s always very satisfying whenever we do get a glimpse of his more vulnerable side.

them as a pair though… i’m not a huge fan of the “fate brought us together” trope so i was skeptical at first. nezumi being so prickly and moody at first didn’t help either, but shion. oh shion, he tried so hard to worm himself into nezumi’s heart, to prove himself worthy, that i couldn’t help but be charmed. to me, they started out more like “snarky senpai and curious kouhai” as opposed to “friends” or even “potential enemies” as nezumi liked to insist they were, which made for an amusing dynamic.

and while they did grow on me over time, they don’t make me feel that INTENSE CHEST STABBING feeling that i get with other ships. idk why, i mean, their sarcastic exchanges were amusing, their brutally honest arguments were compelling, and the pining (which is my #1 weakness) was through the fucking roof with shion. but still, something was missing.

sidenote on something the author mentioned in the guidebook interview (my own rough t/l):

I like writing about relationships between people of the same sex, not just boys. When it comes to the opposite sex, the end result of being attracted to each other is always romantic love, or getting married…… To a certain extent, the “template” for that is already fixed, isn’t it? But when it comes to the same sex, there can exist a connection that can’t be expressed in the usual cliched words like friendship, camaraderie, love, hatred… I think there’s meaning in writing about relationships that can’t be clearly defined. What’s between Shion and Nezumi is a “one-of-a-kind connection” that’s born out of a certain situation, out of certain experiences that only they have gone through. I wanted to find out what exactly that connection is, which was why I wanted to try writing it. Of course, that “one-of-a-kind connection” would probably exist between people of the opposite sex as well. After all, the feelings that emerge from a chance meeting of two human beings can never be something that’s mass-produced. But still, I think the one thing that I really enjoy writing about has got to be the unique emotions that develop between people of the same sex.

i know she doesn’t mean anything negative here, but idk… it kinda reminds me of the way yoshida akimi discussed ash and eiji’s relationship in banana fish, and the way she discussed what she found so special about same-sex relationships that is lacking in m/f relationships. and something about it bugs me so much. i don’t even know why or how to explain it…

it sounds like to them, there’s something fundamentally “different” about same-sex relationships. "different” doesn’t necessarily mean “bad” and in fact, it even sounds positive in this context because the implication is that that “difference” allows for more freedom and variety in relationship dynamics. but i guess, the closest thing that i can come up with is that it sounds… othering? i don’t know….......

speaking of which, i suppose shion/safu is a subversion of that typical m/f relationship. shion can never love her the way she wants him to, which is heartbreaking, but also refreshing in a way.

and you know what… it just occurred to me that maybe, maybe… it’s the same with shion and nezumi. and maybe that’s why something about them feels off to me. i mean, obviously the strength of their feelings for each other is indisputable, but idk if the essence of it is the same.

shrugs. anyway, yeah.

the honest truth is that, while i enjoyed their interactions immensely, they just don’t ignite the same fire in me as all my other otps. that said, i still do have a lot of thoughts on them! maybe that’s a post for another day.

some other stray thoughts:

- was it ever explained how nezumi built his robo rats? or where tf he managed to gather so many gold coins? was this something the story just handwaved or did i just forget?

- nezumi wanting to leave on a journey at the end baffled me. even though him eventually leaving was foreshadowed a couple times, he never really struck me as a wanderer to begin with. but now that i think about it… i wonder if he’s leaving bc he wants to, or rather, needs to look out for any other remaining forests and natural environments. that’s what his people did, didn’t they? protect the forests. i wonder if he’s going to go look for others like himself. after all, he’s the only surviving indigenous person left in the area surrounding no.6, isn’t he? hmmm.

language-wise... this is my first proper japanese (light) novel so i’m feeling kinda accomplished rn! lol. it was surprisingly not as tough as i had expected. i think the most difficult part was actually reading the quotes at the beginning of each chapter bc it’s in a font that’s so hard to make out.

oh, and again, some parts felt really redundant. i kept wondering if it was a language thing or an author thing. either way, i felt like there were quite a few unnecessary rehashes that could’ve been omitted to improve the pacing.

sequels, other adaptations...

i’ve not read “beyond” yet, which apparently has sequel-ish bits? i’ve ordered it, it’s on its way, but i have a feeling my impression won’t change that much even after i’ve read it. heck, it might get worse judging by all these lukewarm reviews. i’m definitely gonna see this through to the end, but i’m feeling kinda scared now lol.

i might check out the anime? based on the summaries on wiki, it sounds like quite a lot has been altered, but i’m still curious about the visuals. dunno if i’d wanna check out the manga. if it’s exactly the same as the novels or the anime then maybe not…

oh yeah, their anime/manga versions look quite different to how i imagined them! mine’s closer to the novel covers i guess. especially nezumi. i imagined him with short hair. maybe not all super saiyan like the one below, but yea.

lastly, i just had a good look at all the vol covers and i actually think they look pretty cool! i’m really glad i chose to get this version instead of the bunkobon. i mean, i don’t know if i will ever reread this again, but at least the covers are nice to look at haha.

#sotong txt #no.6 #long rambly post sorry #now im gonna go to sleep for 100 years...

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