#Well I mean I guess more trauma to go along with basically growing up in a war zone as a child soldier???

[morgan-n-cheese-91]

Shall we give the new oc (Bonk) trauma??

[kiivg]

i looove the art u did of ur V in that hammock bed with the screens in the background and Jackie below, but what's ur V up to exactly? is he editing the recordings? whats his job?

.Tysm!!!! My V, Gianluca Vargas, is part of my 3Vs AU, so he’s not my main V canonically, but he’s probably the one I like playing the most because I get to run around in flashy suits and kiss Takemura 💋. My actual V is Gianluca’s ex, and Sunny’s half-sister (never going to play as her, I just need someone to be mean to Johnny, be hardcore pro-Arasaka, and then die at the end.)

.So his job is basically an AI (or digital idk) sex worker kind of thing, (idk if that’s what a Brain Dance is because they’re confusing af), where he basically controls a private area of the net that’s his own, and caters mostly to rich clientele. He has default programs that he’s made himself which the AIs run on and he can dip in and out to control them to make the whole situation more personal. On the picture he’s controlling LynchMO8 as his main, but he’s running three others at the same time, and recording BeccaMO6 for further purposes (maybe blackmail, maybe to sell on to others as a separate BD experience). Essentially, hardly anyone knows he’s the one who’s running the whole operation, and WHY would they, he’s a scumbag Valentino from The Glen harhar. Each one of the AIs has Cerdita tattooed however (that’s his left hand, which is basically an AI in its own right,) so it’s like his brand I guess? But I think I called his business Mañana Vices?

.Gianluca is also low-key obsessed with Delamain, and the way he controls and entire fleet of vehicles with little to no issue, (until the big old quest, which maybe I solely concentrated on so I could get all the dialogue of Delamain rediscovering everything again hehehe..) So he runs as many AIs as he can, and has five sockets in his head where he can jack straight into things. He’s never going to be Delamain (as much as he wants to be) but he’s going to keep trying.

.He’s definitely a skilled Netrunner, and the majority of his money came from hacking companies and stealing it, so he could support his sister as she went through the training to become a member of Trauma Team. But then he was like “Huh I LIKE money” so he just kept stealing. He is the one who does all the netrunning in my 3Vs, like he helps to catch the Peter Pan guy for River, helps to interrogate Anders before Takemura shows up, actually probably does 80% of Takemura’s questline because V is too busy elsewhere.

.The link with Jackie is literally that Jackie was really close to V, and she and Gianluca were mostly sweethearts growing up and then she went corporate, and now they’re just friends with benefits. Which is basically if she needs something hacking, she’ll just rock up and things go from there. So him and Jackie are like acquaintances, but they’re close enough to just chill out together every so often, I don’t think he and Misty get along though since she read his tarot and hit a little too close to home. Plus I like to think that Gianluca has a dad who’s sweet on Mama Welles hehehe.

.Anyway, on the subject of Gianluca, here’s a little kind of smutty thing of him and Takemura 👹💋💕. (Also I’m posting off my phone so maybe the formatting is awful.).

When the knock came at the side of his van, Takemura was quick to gather his weapon, finger hovering over the trigger, concealed within the darkness of his vehicle. His mind had slipped elsewhere, thinking through the realities of what they were planning to do, what they had to do, and how it could very easily go so wrong. He keeps his mouth closed, trying to discern footsteps from the heavy patter of rain, waiting for the intruder to either pass along or open fire. There was every chance it was a drunkard in the night, and every other chance that it was a bounty hunter seeking his head. He steadies himself as he had been trained to do, slowing his breath, slowing his heart rate. It had been done a thousand times before, waiting to strike like a viper in the shadows.

The knock appears at his window, a pale shroud of a man slapping a flat palm against the dirtied glass. He points with a finger to the locking mechanism with the same hand, his other raised above his head, holding a jacket aloft to keep himself somewhat dry. The man knocks again, more urgently, gesturing somewhat wildly to the rain that pelts him from above, before trying the door handle futilely. Takemura can see the man’s lips moving, glinting in reflected city light; but the words he could not hear.

It takes a moment, far longer than just a moment, for Takemura’s eyes to adjust to the way the lights of Night City dazzle upon the pale shroud, illuminating him in a halo of advertising pinks and purples, to recognise him; V’s netrunner. The one she has saved in her holo as “Gives Good Head”. A fact Goro had not wanted to know, and yet, it was a thought hooked into the back of his head every time he had seen the man. With a golden triangle tattooed onto plump lips, a set of golden teeth behind them, always fiddling with something; a cigarette, the nails of his organic hand, the straw of an ungodly sweetened drink he had already drank and thrown away, putting anything he could between those lips to keep them busied.

Takemura lets him in.

A button pressed and the door unlocks, he leans over to pull the handle, unlatching and leaving it open just a touch. His weapon is slipped quietly into his holster, safety back on, and he removes what debris he can from the passenger seat. Old papers from a previous owner, a corporate magazine with Yorinobu’s face plastered across it, the wrappers of several burgers he would not willingly admit to eating. There is a fumble as the man, Luca, climbs in, jostling a vinyl bag into Takemura’s lap, and slamming the van door behind him with a heavy sigh. The bottom of it is dripping with rainwater, no doubt left on the floor as he had tried to beg his way into the safety of the vehicle.

Gianluca’s cheeks are flushed, from the cold or the rain, but with the heavier breaths Takemura assumes he had been running. “Were you followed?” He asks, fingers pressed to the ignition. He glances in the mirrors, and then in the screens that show him the rear of the vehicle and the sides consecutively. Nothing but the rain and all that accompanies it.

“What? No, it’s fucking raining,” Gianluca gestures to the outside, “mierda.” He squirms in the passenger seat, attempting to swipe the rain from his impromptu umbrella-cum-jacket, soaked through, and trying to pull the fabric of his slacks away from where they cling to his skin, also soaked through. If Takemura was a man of lesser standing it would be hard to tear his eyes away from the sight, and yet, he doesn’t, knowing that would be far more suspicious than simply staring. Rather he replaces his confusion with a frown, silently chastising the younger man for his shuffling and wiggling as he tries to readjust himself into a comfier situation.

Gianluca was wearing white. Or a close enough colour to it. In the low light of the rearview screen it looks green, and when an advert for Us Cracks billows brightly above Night City it turns pink. Yet it remains white in Takemura’s mind; white slacks, white jacket, white shirt; all wet and now significantly opaque, offset with black and gold waistcoat, tie and shoes. And with a glance down, black underwear, visible now, thanks to the sudden onset of heavy rain. If the man notices Takemura staring, he says nothing, only settles in his seat apologetically, trying to steady his uneven breaths.

“I bought coffee, and food,” he gestures to the bag, a peace offering, a patterned red thing, “I figured you should stop trying to find Japan in Night City, so I got patatas bravas, empanadas, tamales, and churros, for after.” He takes foil lined boxes out of the bag as he speaks, shaking each one to hear the rattle of food before he discerns what it is. It does not go unnoticed that the churros are placed closer to himself than Takemura, the man’s incessant sweet tooth staking a claim on the sugary snacks. Each box leaves a small ring of steam on the inside window, fighting valiantly against the chill of the weather outside.

“I am not hungry.” Takemura lied, returning his gaze to the building opposite, thinking back to the task at hand, and not of Gianluca’s spread position as he plucks at the fabric between his thighs. From the way he sits, each inch of clothing is either a creased hill of bunched fabric, or a damp puddle of tattooed skin blended beneath a synthetic silk mix.

He glances back to Gianluca when the man lurches forward, tugging off the waistcoat and unknotting his tie. He hangs his jacket from the back of his headrest, the van rocking as he turns to check and see there was nothing back there that would cause it damage. His waist coat is next, and his tie is rolled up, held in his tight fists until water droplets run down into the cuffs of his shirt, and then placed on the shoulder of his seat. Part of Takemura wants to chastise the man for taking over a space that was not his, and the other part, the part which likes knowing the three words V had resigned the man to, likes watching tattooed hands run across the damp shirt, wrinkles smoothed, pulled taut and damp over hardening nipples.

“You don’t have to eat now, Takemura, but it’s good food, and I promised abuelita I’d, you know,” he gestures limply and without definition, grabbing the bag and setting the boxes back inside. He hesitates with the small box of churros, lamenting the treat he would have to leave in the hands of another man. It’s something to distract him, focusing on the smell of the food, and then the strong bitterness of brewed coffee as Gianluca pulls the decorated flask out. Without his optics he cannot smoothly translate the words carved in Spanish, but the small upturn of Luca’s lips tells him they were written fondly.

It’s more of a planned picnic than an impromptu dash around the streets for something that resembles a meal. Homemade, Takemura thinks, a twitch in his stomach that can’t decide whether to swell with affection or curdle with jealousy. His own grandmother had raised him as a child, before Arasaka, and he can see love in the way Gianluca handles the boxes, the flask, the way he pours coffee from it and into the small cups. Abuelita, he thinks, trying to conjure an image that would suit the title, trying to figure out how Night City had bred a woman who would give her fully grown grandson, a thief, a ganger, and more even, a perfectly wrapped meal and send him out on his way knowing full well that he had his own concealed weapons at hand.

The coffee itself is stronger than he would have liked, and it burns a trail down his chest when he drinks it. Gianluca himself, drops in three pill capsules to his own, and they fizz as they disintegrate, black coffee now swirling with little flecks of pink and blue. A puddle of the night sky held in his palm. He declines one of them when Gianluca offers, smiling to himself when the man drops the fourth in; muttering to himself about how it is only sugar.

It is more than sugar, V had told him when they had met in Tom’s Diner, concentrated and synthetically made. Absurdly sweet, to the point that it made her gag when she had first tried one. Gianluca split the pills himself, one capsule held the contents of three. Different flavours to make one overall combination of saccharine granules. An abomination, Takemura had thought, wondering how he felt as if he could now smell that over the bitterness of his own drink.

“You have told your grandmother about me?” Takemura asks, glancing back at the red bag, placed closely in the rear of the van. How much? He wonders at first; Saburo-sama’s failed bodyguard, an Arasaka outlaw, a rat from Chiba 11 who was given everything and failed his only purpose.

“No,” Gianluca says, sighing as he swallows a gulp of coffee, shrugging as the warmth blooms in his chest too, “well, just a little.” His smile is coquettish as he glances over, cradling his plastic mug in hand, blowing the steam as it rises to his lips.

“You should not have done this, anyone who knows-” Takemura starts.

“Is at risk, si, si, I said you’re a friend of a friend who’s a little run down.” His worries are not dissuaded off by Gianluca’s limp wave, nor by the way he shrugs out his admittance. “Anyway, she’ll be pissed if you don’t try some.” He points a thumb at the food, raising his brows in a way that relayed his message in all seriousness.

For a moment Takemura feels a pang of something in his gut, a slight worry over disappointing the faceless figment of a grandmother of the man beside him, over being judged by the same woman. The pang sets in the scales of his stomach, balanced out by Gianluca’s behaviour, which tells him that the younger man had spoken of him fondly enough that said grandmother had made him the equivalent of a packed lunch. Or perhaps she was simply like that, perhaps Gianluca was simply like that. Helpful; and in Night City? The words don’t sit comfortably together.

“A friend of a friend?” He asks, sipping at his coffee, watching the way Gianluca swirls his own by tipping his wrist, stirring the sugar as he pours himself a second cup. Personally, he didn’t believe that friend of a friend described him accurately enough. He wasn’t friends with V. Their relationship was one of purely business. She had seen what had happened at Konpeki, and Takemura needed her statement. There was little more to it.

But Gianluca, he hadn’t been there. Takemura didn’t need the man. And yet, throwing him from his van hadn’t even crossed his mind. Granted, his mind could easily excuse it; Gianluca was an exceptional netrunner, the man had skills and a certain know-how of a great many things that neither V nor Takemura knew how to do. Even V had explained to him, if there was a way of getting Gianluca to the parade float without danger, he’d be able to hack it without the daemon that Takemura had purchased, and he’d probably do it faster than V could upload it. But he was a coward, his chosen implants spoke to that, and was mostly useless in a firefight.

He would be useful in other, more specific ways, is what V had told him, as she had first shared his contact information. Not that Takemura had been tech savvy enough to be able to change the name of him, and with his pride and previous blunders, hadn’t asked anyone to help him to do so.

So he remains, Gives Good Head.

And if Takemura had to explain that to anyone, he’d struggle beyond what was reasonable. Because there would be no way for him to know either way, despite the flirtatious nature of the man, despite the way he mouthed at everything and anything he could. Takemura couldn’t simply just ask; and there sits the struggling thought, because he didn’t know what he would ask, specifically. If he questioned the title, then Gianluca would either have to lie, or be believed to be lying, or demonstrate if the monicker lived up to standard.

“You did not mention V?” Takemura asks, holding his dwindling cup out to be refilled, staring at the black liquid as it decants, eyes flickering from it to Luca’s hand, to the damp collar of his shirt, to the way his hair dries awkwardly around the face. He can see the soft whirring of cybernetics on his pupils, a dimly lit gold as he runs through whatever data breach he explores.

“Why would I? She doesn’t like her, she’s not making any of this for someone like V,” he offers another smile, plump lips pulled taut, “just accept the food, Takemura, not everything needs to be dissected.” He holds up his own cup, tapping it against Takemura’s, before downing it himself. He hums in undecided agreement, staring at the steam that rises from his cup. Perhaps it did need dissecting. If Gianluca couldn’t hack the float by himself, more or less even have a reason to do so, why was he still here? Bringing coffee and food like this was something else, as if they weren’t scouting for information on the parade floats, as if he was a friend of a friend.

From the corner of his eye he can see Gianluca readjusting himself, pulling at the crotch of his slacks, picking at the damp fabric. Thumb held behind his belt as he stops it from digging into his gut, trying to relax and ignoring the squelch of wet fabric against wet fabric as he moves.

He was handsome, Takemura knew this, Takemura had seen this. Takemura knew that Gianluca also knew he was handsome too. It had been easy to see the way he had flirted with those around them, with street food vendors and passersby, with the NCPD when they got a little too suspicious, a tilt to his hips, a wink, his tongue pressing against that golden triangle. Like a peacock, he thought. Brightly fanned tail feathers like a shield around him. Takemura held reserve on it all, trying not to think of the contact on his holo, trying not to look when Gianluca raised his hips to pluck his slacks from where they uncomfortably cling to his arse.

“You and V have a history?” Takemura asks. He already knew, her holo contact, but there was more behind it. Which meant there was more to all this, and Gianluca was wrong; this did need to be dissected. Because if she was paying him, then that meant she might be paying others, and that was an endless list of people who might know where Takemura was. And if not that, then blackmail, if V had something to hold over Gianluca, surely the man, coward or not, would find a way out of the trap she had set for him.

“Si.” He admits, thumping back down into his seat with a bounce, angling himself to the side so he could look at Takemura head on. He sits on one side of his hips, legs crossed at the ankles, his clothes were drier now. Still damp, still smelling of Night City’s rain water, but less see-through, whiter now.

“If there is more to this, then I would like to know.” Takemura explains, his voice lowering a tone, trying to convey the words he didn’t want to speak. “If it could affect what we aim to do.” He adds.

“Are you asking professionally or…”

“Yes.” He says quickly, not wanting to entertain the idea of this being anything but business. There had been many within Arasaka’s training camps who had felled their own training over a lover, over quick trysts in silent corners. Takemura had not been one of them. Where the urge arose he squashed it down, and when he couldn’t deny himself any longer, when his body thrummed with arousal and desire, when heat and sex and lust dropped off of him like sweat, like an overfilled cup of coffee, like rainwater off a white suit, he pushed it down again. Further, deeper, and restrained himself mentally in ways that would so often break other men.

Takemura had patience and willpower, an uncanny ability to simply deny the part of him that wanted to lose himself with another for just a few moments. A few moments back then would have cost him a lifetime, a few moments now; he dared not entertain, and yet-

“We had a thing back when we were teenagers, she was my first proper output, gave me my first blowjob a couple blocks from here,” Gianluca’s words fall so unapologetically from his tongue, wet and organic in a self imposed gilded cage of teeth, “she got a job with Arasaka, I stayed in the Glen, we fuck when she gets a little homesick.” Takemura has to chew on his own tongue, he was homesick, he was only a couple blocks from a couple blocks away, he was trapped in his own vehicle with a gilded man dripping onto the centre console, talking about fucking a woman, talking about giving head, giving Good head.

“And you two are…” He clears his throat awkwardly, unwilling to say the next words. Because Gianluca was beautiful, and V was beautiful, and Takemura’s hormonal balance regulators had been turned off along with everything else, and he had unwittingly grown used to them thrumming away in his body, limiting the things he had taught himself to deny naturally.

“Are you asking professionally? Because I’m sitting in your van, in this pinche clima, in this soaked suit, and compiling all the information I can get off the Arasaka compound; and I’m not doing it just to get that puta to ride my dick.” Gianluca inches over, leaner closer, lowering his voice from where it had been raised in disbelief and annoyance. “There are easier ways to… mierda, Takemura, pa ti. That’s why.” He jabs a finger in Takemura’s direction, pointedly enough that he looks down, and then back up into Gianluca’s eyes. Golden lines turning as he tries, fails, to connect with Takemura’s own disabled optics, a hitch in the download as he turns his gaze back to the building beyond them.

He readjusts himself again as he sits back in the passenger seat, and Takemura’s gaze does not flee his form, not immediately. Because perhaps he had fooled himself, and he was a lesser man than he thought he was, because now the only image in his head was V writhing in Gianluca’s lap, head thrown back, arched and panting and wanton and brimming with lust and decorated with sweat. And so easily does she fade, replaced by his own body.

A part of him laments the image, laments the desire to take Gianluca’s cock in hand and press it inside of himself, and so he turns back to the building in the distance. Because it should be the other way around, he should have Luca on him, his status would demand it. He could not debase himself in front of a lesser man, a younger man, to give his most intimate parts up so freely to someone like Gianluca. A larger part of him doesn’t care, because the images playing in his mind increase twofold. Of being inside of Luca, of being on top of Luca, of being underneath Luca, of being spread legged with wide tattooed shoulders under his thighs, and a mouth, lips tattooed, tongue organic, teeth gilded, pressed open against his cock.

“I knew it was going to rain, waited for it, even.” Gianluca whispers. A soft admittance under the patter of raindrops. And when Takemura turns he sees the man dissected, his reasons laid bare.

He had the foresight to bring a vinyl bag that wouldn’t crumple with the weight of water, and not an umbrella to save himself the same misery. To bring food that would keep its heat, coffee the same, enough to warm himself that he would need another reason to shed his clothes; his damp clothes, pale and sticky against darker skin. He had sat in Takemura’s van drenched in sheer fabric, tugging and pulling at it, guiding his gaze in a dance across his body, a display, an allure; hands pressed against his thighs, his groin, his chest, sat lower in his seat so his hips pushed up, black underwear a stark contrast to everything he was and wore.

With tentative fingers he pulls a glittering datashard from his neck, eyes settling to their natural colour, and offers it to Takemura without need for recompense. For you, pa ti. A compilation of what he had gathered from the compound, a gift to help with the sabotaging of the parade.

He is dissected. He is lain bare. He is dressed in raindrops and distant city light.

And Takemura kisses him.

He grabs the offered wrist and pulls him close, pressing chapped lips to Luca’s own tattooed ones. His breath is sugary, his tongue more so. Takemura claws his hand around the back of Gianluca’s neck, pulling him closer like a chained dog, fingers digging into organic flesh and cybernetics alike. He can feel the stubble of hair growth as he grips harder, pressing himself closer; encouraging, if not forcing the younger man to open his mouth fully and share what lays there.

The heavy thrum of his heartbeat is felt through his wrist, a rising thudding beneath Takemura’s fingertips. It sings in time with Luca’s desperate grunt, the sound of his rings clacking against Takemura’s own neck. And when he squeezes harder he hears Luca’s moan over the sound of raindrops, open mouthed and whining, stuttering as Takemura’s tongue pressed in against his own. He yields so easily to him, letting him grab and take and pull, pushing against him with the same ferocity, keening into the state of being devoured.

Gianluca bites at Takemura’s lip as he tries to pull away, following him with kisses to his cheek, his jaw, golden teeth catching against the cybernetics of his neck. He bites down where flesh meets metal, upper teeth scraping his jawline, decorating the plates with his tongue as Takemura groans into the open air.

“You planned this.” Takemura heaves, accusing him as if he hadn’t instigated the kiss himself, catching his breath deep in his lungs. Gianluca pulls back, only the inch that the other man’s grip would allow, and offers a shining smile, he licks his lips, that golden triangle, and nods.

“Si,” he whispers, “but it’s going better than I expected.” He laughs breathlessly, kissing at the hand around his wrist, laving his tongue against the metalwork, trying to pull the fingers into his mouth. He stares at Takemura all the while, watching those dark brown eyes fall heavy, how his jaw twitches as he grinds his teeth.

With a shuddering breath he releases his grip, and instead, points three fingers together, his fourth curled into his palm, and lets Gianluca take them into his mouth. He kisses them at the joined tip, lets the flat of his tongue drag across them. Lips press down towards the cuff of his jacket, and he inhales deeply. It must smell of synthetic leather and sweat, but Gianluca rises with a smile, nipping at the palm of his hand, of the bumps and callouses there. The edge of his nose pressed against the three fingers as he returns to his beginning, and slowly he nips at those too, opening his lips to take them to the first knuckle.

He grins around them easily enough, forcing his tongue between the trio, curling it, flattening it, letting his saliva coat the inch he has in his mouth. Takemura still watches on, knowing almost entirely what both of them are thinking of, using most of his restraint to stop himself from pressing his free hand against the throb of heat below his gut. His whimper is embarrassing as Gianluca takes the fingers in further, to the second, the third, until his lips are flush against Takemura’s knuckles, and the only thing stopping him from going further is the fourth finger he had not taken. He swallows. And Takemura can feel the constriction of his throat against his fingertips, and the way his cock throbs against the inside of his slacks.

Gianluca pulls off, ever so slowly, allowing Takemura to set the pace as he takes his fingers from between the lips, each one sticky with sugared saliva. It’s sinful, the sight of them, glistening in the lowlight, a match to his lips, damp themselves, and open with staggering breath. It’s mesmerising almost, the ethereal nature of it broken when the datashard is pressed against them; all the information he needs, the reason why they where both here, a veritable tower block against the sight of a flush-faced Gianluca.

“Touch yourself, Takemura.” Gianluca whispers, eyes flickering the to fingers he had swallowed.

“I am.. I am not sure.” He says lamely. It seems inappropriate, what he just did was inappropriate, Gianluca’s hands trailing down his own body, catching on damp wrinkles of his shirt, thumbs pulling open his belt buckle, the sound of his slacks zipper being pulled down, it was all inappropriate.

His internal conflict must be written plainly on his face. The way his eyes skitter back and forth, from his hands to Gianluca’s own, to the younger man’s glossy eyed appearance and down to his own lap; and back to the soft frown that graces Gianluca’s brows, and the sound of a zipper being tugged back up. The sound almost echoed in Takemura’s gut, like a pendulum that swung between regret and relief. He’d never had someone… do that before. Truthfully, he wouldn’t have even entertained the mere thought of it before, and had he done so, Arasaka would have noted the stimulation in his endocrine system and flagged it up to be reviewed, as they always had done.

That in itself came with a sickening feeling of relief. It felt dirty. It felt dirty to want to do what Gianluca asked of him. It felt dirtier to hear those words in his head, over and over, and wonder if he could just take a hold of his own sex in spit-slicked fingers, apologise, and ask the younger man to watch, to touch, to taste.

“Is it me, or… this wasn’t a transactional sex thing, you know,” Gianluca clears his throat awkwardly, swiping a hand back through his hair and muttering to himself, “qué cabrón.” He looks over at Takemura, still holding the datashard aloft in wet fingers, his cock half hard in his slacks, and a heat decorating his cheeks.

A moment sits between them in the lowlight. Neither of them quite knowing exactly what to do. Whatever intimacy had stirred between them had been stalled by Takemura’s hesitance, and with each glance between them, fleeting, nervous, like two deer stuck in each others headlamps, it stalled again.

“Let me…” Gianluca says, turning in his seat to grab his pocket square and pluck the shard from Takemura’s fingers. He takes Takemura’s hand in his own, wiping away the excess saliva he had left, distracting himself by semi-detailing the metal work across his knuckles. “Listen, I can walk home,” he drops the datashard into the empty ashtray, “and, that’ll probably need to be filtered through, I can recheck the guard rota the day before V goes in just for extra safety, might even throw in a weaponry jammer if any open fire on the night and-“

“Gianluca.” Takemura says, halting the man in his stumbling words. He doesn’t know what he is going to say, nor how he intends to speak it in forced English. Instead he turns his hand in his own, bringing the organic knuckles to his lips. The kiss is chaste, less so when he reaches over to press against his lips. “I will drive you home.” He opts to say, knowing that it is merely a delay tactic, and one that is foolish in itself. The small smile at least is worth the detour, even if the words are abstract from their meaning.

With a press of a button the van splutters to life, rattling in protest of not yet being allowed to die its death. And he waits until Gianluca has tossed what remains in their cups from the window, and replaced the flask in the patterned red bag, before he moves off from their location.

The navigation system pings to life, a sultry female voice telling Takemura to take a right in so many kilometres, and congratulating him with flirtatious laughter and innuendo every few commands. An echo of the previous owner’s taste, and one that fully wilts any desire that might have been thriving in Takemura’s mind. “You, uh, you chose her, ¿si?” Gianluca asks behind a closed fist, stifling his laughter. Takemura fixes him with a stare, his face unmoving even as the navigator compliments him on his driving.

It is enough to settle the tense atmosphere they had both created. Even as Takemura’s shoulders grew tighter with each command. At the very least it had been a short drive, and the patter of rain had died down to a slow drizzle. It didn’t, however, give Takemura the time he needed to figure out what the plan for this was. Because he has seen Gianluca knocked back by some of those in Night City, and he had always brushed it off with a grin. Perhaps it was because this was private, because it had just been the two of them. And he didn’t know if it was him by himself, or the lack of onlookers which changed it.

With a wanton moan their navigator announced they had arrived at their destination, and Takemura happily punched enough buttons to shut her off, and then the ignition.

“Try the food, Takemura, it’s good, prometo.” Gianluca says with a reassuring nod. It’s enough to stop Takemura from saying, or doing, anything particularly foolish. He taps his fingers against the ashtray, a quiet reminder that Takemura still had work to do, and plucks his discarded clothing from the back of his seat. “You have my contact, right?” He asks faltering as he grasps the handle, hearing the click of the van door opening. He nods silently, thinking back to the name in his phone, back to the way he had swallowed his fingers. Takemura didn’t know whether to thank V or curse her for those three words of sexual wisdom.

Gianluca lingers as he clambers out, his clothes folded over his arm, a dazzling white now he stood under the city lights. He hovers a moment, chewing on the inside of his lip as if the words he wants to say fail to form on his tongue. Takemura wants to say something himself, but find no words can actually help him in this situation. And were it some soppy screamsheet nonsense, he imagines he might have kissed him farewell, but that was not life in Night City, not for Takemura. No, life for him was watching Gianluca step away, shut the door, and hurriedly enter the apartment complex he lived in.

Takemura punches the ignition button again, waiting for the van to regrettably sputter back to life before pulling away. He had work to do, and he was hungry.

[goldrushzukka]

aidays playlist breakdown: chapter 4 weekend at momo's

happy birthday aidays!! you know the drill by now let's go girls

here's the fic

here's the playlist

let's get married by bleachers

its not on spotify but the mitski cover of this song is actually what i intended for this chapter. nothing against the original it's just that the mitski version makes me want to bash my head against a wall

(ID: "Change me at all costs / Starlight and star-crossed / Take me so breathless / We could be reckless / Why don't you change me at all costs? / Starlight and star-crossed / Take me so breathless". End ID)

they are changing each other. they are growing with and because of each other. like, sokka has his life in order. he has a decent apartment, a good job, and the best people in the world. he's got everything exactly how he likes it. nothing needs to change. and then along comes zuko, this whirlwind breath of fresh air, and he starts to realise maybe change doesn't always have to be bad! sometimes it's good to let people in! because what if you fall in love! AND ZUKO..... zuko finally admitting to himself (and ty lee i guess) in this chapter that he likes sokka as more than just a willing body, after he's spent so long with that part of himself closed off! he's found someone who wants him, in more ways than he realises at this point, trauma and all.

a loving feeling by mitski

ok so. this song is technically about a one-sided/secret relationship, which is not what aidays is. but. it makes me crazy.

(ID: "Holding hands under a table / Meeting up in your bedroom / Making love to other people / Telling each other it's all good / Kisses like pink cotton candy / Talking to everyone but me / I'm staying up late just in case you come up and ask to leave with me". End ID)

for me this verse is about them saying again and again this thing is casual, while doing things that clearly suggest otherwise. it's a booty call on a saturday afternoon, a hookup in a dirty bar bathroom, a quickie in the shower before work. but it's also a key, a standing coffee appointment, a jacket as a blanket. it's sleeping together and it's. well. sleeping together.

(ID: "What do you do with a loving feeling / If the loving feeling makes you all alone?". End ID)

this is the anxiety. the dark cloud hanging over the fic. they've set these boundaries, and they've both quietly broken them, so where does that leave them? what do you do with love when you're not supposed to have it?

crush by tessa violet

this is theeeee "i like you more than i probably should" anthem!!!!!!!!!!! im falling in love and its so embarrassing dont look at me!!!!

(ID: "You think I'm tepid but I'm misdiagnosed". End ID)

this is the problem sokka and zuko face. they are both falling fast and hard while convinced the other is still fine and respecting the no-strings-attached rule. "if he wanted more he would say so" you want more, are YOU saying so? didn't think so, stupid

(ID: "And I'm just tryna play it cool now / But that's not what I wanna do now". End ID)

imagine you are zuko. your very casual sex friend (who you are stupid crazy about) gives you a key to his apartment and basically gives you an open invitation to be with him in his home whenever you want (which is always). and then you spend a weekend alone in said apartment surrounded by his cat and his pictures and the smell of his shampoo, and when he comes home he asks you to stay in his bed with him. and you are expected to be normal about this because one time in a bathroom at a dive bar when you were trying to get back into this guy's pants you said you would be.

(ID: "You make it difficult to not overthink / And when I'm with you I turn all shades of pink, ah / I wanna touch you but don't wanna be weird / It's such a rush, I'm thinking wish you were here, ah-ah". End ID)

this is the nature of a crush: every crumb of maybe, every inch in the right direction, hyperanalysed and overthought until you feel like you might explode. what did he mean when he said "how's my baby?" can he tell he makes me want to scream? is it okay to touch him, is it okay to hold him, is it okay to want him?

(ID: "But I could be your crush, like, throw you for a rush, like / Hopin' you'd text me so I could tell you / I been thinking 'bout your touch like / Touch, touch, touch, touch, touch / I could be your crush, crush, crush, crush, crush". End ID)

the predicament zuko and sokka have put themselves in is that they want each other so badly that they cannot imagine making the first move. because what if it goes wrong? what if they say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, and then the whole thing is ruined forever and they can never see each other again? they're both in this state of knowing that if it turns out their feelings are reciprocated, this is it, they are in this for the long haul, 104 years old dying in each other's arms -- but also knowing that if the feelings are NOT reciprocated, they are in for the worst heartbreak anyone has ever felt ever in the history of heartbreak. both equally terrifying options.

kill the director by the wombats

you know when you have a crush and everything is just pain all the time but youre also having the time of your life. yeah

(ID: "I've met someone that makes me feel seasick / Oh, what a skill to have, oh, what a skill / To have so many skills that make her distinctive / But they're not mine to have, no they're not mine". End ID)

i think one of the most important things in any ship dynamic is for both of them to think the other is the most divine creature to ever walk the earth. unfortunately for them (but fortunately for me) this is a perfect breeding ground for anxiety and "oh woe is me my beloved is a magnificent angel and i am but a lowly slug how could they possibly return my affection" type internal narratives.

365 by katy perry & zedd

katy perry literally always gets it right like every time she steps into the studio she becomes vessel for god

(You make the weekend feel like year / Baby, you got me changing / 24/7, I want you here / I hope you feel the same thing". End ID)

(ID: "I want you to be the one to stay / And give me the night and day". End ID)

I think this speaks for itself:

When Sokka crosses the room and slips under the covers beside him, Zuko says, “I can leave, if you want. I can go home.”

He says it, and doesn’t move a muscle. 

Sokka reaches across him to turn off the light. He finds the switch, and then there’s the moment of eyes adjusting to the dark, and then Sokka realises that his face is barely an inch from Zuko’s.

A small voice, rabid and impulsive from sleep deprivation, whispers in the back of his mind. Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him until you can’t breathe.

Sokka doesn’t kiss him. Instead, he tests the flexibility of casual another way.

He asks, still barely hovering over Zuko, “What if I don’t want that?”

Zuko swallows. “I can stay.”

“So stay,” Sokka says, and lays his head down on Zuko’s chest.

-

Sokka steps over his discarded shoes and slips into bed beside him.

“I can leave, if you want,” Zuko says, and doesn’t move an inch. “I can go home.”

Sokka reaches across him for the lamp, and now they’re chest to chest, and Zuko can barely breathe. His eyes drop to Sokka’s mouth.

The light goes out.

“What if I don’t want that?” Sokka asks. Zuko can’t see much in the dark, but he can make out the shine of Sokka’s eyes and the pleading shape of his brow.

Hesitation creeps up his throat. Zuko swallows it.

“I can stay,” he says. His blood pounds in his ears.

Sokka moves then, shifting downward. He lays his head on Zuko’s chest and whispers, “So stay.”

Zuko stays, and lets himself fall.

[redandblackpoetry]

and onto my favorite part of ur answers: eldritch ghost crumbs (⁠つ⁠✧⁠ω⁠✧⁠)⁠つ

i'm v interested in ghost's past with roach, like the entirety of their relationship? hows and whys and whens!!! but i shall keep my silence for the sake of the sequel...... but!! ghost's issues keep increasing (well i keep learning there's even more baggage than i expected) with each of my asks/comments that u answer and i am Enjoying It. like yes. make him Suffer. hurt/comfort is a very superior trope and he is my sacrificial lamb to the angst gods

so idk much abt lovecraftian eldritch monsters (i know of the lore pretty vaguely) bc i am a Fool so idk how much u based ur plot on it but basically any eldritch lore dump is appreciated either way bc of that.

also ghost crumbling at peer pressure? now i feel that. well i think u meant more like a threatening sort of pressure rather than friendly jabbing but it's a lot more funnier when u consider ghost being exposed to peer pressuring and going. uh, ok. LMAO anyway it's also a v beautiful irony that a being that feeds off of fear doesn't welcome it in the parts of his life that he is the most vulnerable in so chefs kiss for that

his true form!!!! i was already guessing this bc it's pretty much implied i feel like but!!! does this mean, when ghost got captured by zaragoza he was in his true form? what are the dimensions even? and!!!! simon saw him like that? could 141 ever get a chance to see him like that, like can he leave simon's body and then come back? (i won't accept the answer of they will but he'll have to completely leave simons body, no sir. simon is along for the ride alive or dead, whether he wants to or not) (talk abt ride or die but die is optional while ride is mandatory)

more importantly, i'm like v v v obsessed with thinking abt simon's pov on first seeing ghost and how his opinion would've changed had the situation been more normal when they first met? like... is he also inherently a monsterfucker? (that's such an iconic question out of context btw, pls acknowledge my brilliance) but like soap sees the tongue and goes. hm. would simon also. ok no my brain is overheating at this point i'll shut up.

(i'm just thinking another au of an au yet again. thanks for the brainrot. it's branching and GROWING how do i stop it????? but like i'm imagining like timeline being different and ghost being captured by the opportunistic fuck shepherd and they try to use ghost in usual military fashion and simon maybe meets him like that and. wow now that i'm getting into it this has the vibes of those merfics of mer being caltured and the scientist seeing them and slowly getting to know them and it's then an epic save-the-mer adventure but mer is an eldritch monster and the pretty scientist is actually a built like a shit brickhouse, gruff military man simon who is Ver Reluctantly starting to get fond of ghost and is not happy abt it)

(i'm dying. why is my brain doing this to me. whyyyyyy)

anyway i have yet again wrote walls of text abt this fic so. i'll wander off and touch some grass before my brain explodes. i'm just. obsessed with all this. a tad too much perhaps so this ask is now ur problem. have fun

The hows and the whys and the whens of Roach and Ghost's relationship have pretty similar answers actually, it'll make sense when I get there hopefully. And I hope that it's as good as you're imagining!

Hurt/comfort ngl is one of my favorite tropes, and I love giving characters trauma and breaking them down and mending them back together and seeing how I can mend them

And don't worry about knowing the lore, as with most fanfiction I'm taking Lovecraft and his genre's works and kinda ripping it apart for juicy bits, though I'm trying to keep the overall impressions. The feeding on different emotions/things is entirely my own idea because I honestly needed some way to nerf Ghost since Lovecraft never elaborates on how his eldritch beings function, so I gave them a food source. The whole possession aspect is actually based on one of Lovecraft's characters though I filled in my own blanks (LC loves being vague for The Horror) and Ghost's parents are also eldritch horrors that are mentioned in his and others' works. Cthulhu also exists in this fic and is actually Ghost's nephew geneology wise! Thats gonna become important in the next chapter ;)

And yesss the fact that Ghost feeds on fear doesnt make him immune to it

And yes! Ghost was in his true form when he was captured by the cartel, though since he was weak he was smaller than normal (he stretches like silly putty). I put a lot of lore and background into each chapter so I'm never sure how much readers remember/understand especially if its spread out. Size wise during the cartel he was probably at least the size of a car, normally he's maybe the size of a six story building? He's actually pretty small compared to some of his kind

And yes, Simon saw him like that and was like "neat, I'm gonna make a deal with this thing because I was the cartel to Burn" and Ghost immediately vibed with that

Would you believe that I'm toying with the idea of the 141 seeing his true form in the main fic? Its gonna be very near the end, and there's a lot of angsty implications regarding it because remember, Simon's dead. Without Ghost to keep his body, well, alive and functioning what happens to a dead body?

Absolutely iconic question and I'd very much believe that Simon is definitely a monsterfucker. He's seen so many human monsters that it imagine its somewhat of a relief and very attractive for him to see a monster not trying to hide what they are. You're also giving me very naughty threesome Ghost/Simon/Soap ideas

And friend, dear mutual, I have absolutely no clue how to fix the brainrot as its infected me as well! And again with giving me ideas!! I was soo close to starting a new 141 fic focusing on Roach for mermay you have no idea, might come to your ask box and ramble at you about it

You know Venom, yes? This idea is giving very Venom movie vibes. Because Ghost is a hardass and he'd cave eventually and end up possessing the people that Shepherd brought in as cannon fodder but he wouldn't gel with them and since he's very prideful he's end up ripping them to shreds over and over. Until Simon. Until Shepherd captured Simon and they gel and Simon and Ghost bond and the 141 come to save them. The team finds out about Ghost and they just slowly introduce him to the world and help him heal and take him on missions

Welp this has been my wall of text, hope you enjoyed! I also need to touch grass but sadly its a beautiful day and I'm stuck at work

[thedaveandkimmershow]

We returned from our wedding anniversary celebration vacation that was, I fully admit, an experiential bubble. Just the two of us in a land of perpetual summer.

This is the modern age, of course, so we're connected to our home/work lives in lots of ways.

If we choose to be.

I know that. She knows that. And yet...

A bubble's still a bubble. And it's easy to imagine our lives have always been thus.

Of course there's nothing like coming home to realize BAM.

That was vacation. Here's your life in progress.

It's a limitation of language that I can only communicate experiences sequentially. Meaning that I can't faithfully capture the actual complexity of any given moment that contains more than one of anything. More than one obligation. More than one experience. More than one emotional thread. More than one logistical challenge. More than one implication for the future.

And so on.

So we'll start small.

First day of Fall?

Monday, September 18.

Why?

Basically because that when it started raining for real. And it's been raining for real ever since.

First day of the Christmas season?

Wednesday, September 20.

Why?

Because I saw this.

So.

Do any of these things matter?

Inasmuch as they're mindsets, sure they do. They create the vibe in which we live. And yes. To such degrees as we allow them to.

Objectively, though, Fall living is different from Summer living. And we both loved Summer living. And Fall seems to have jumped out at us from the bushes.

And I also love Christmastime.

That won't kick in for real until November... but one of my Christmastime pursuits is to reflect on the grand scope of the year we just experienced.

So that definitely is on my radar now

Moving up the ladder, there's a lot of music present in our lives, not the least of which is because Linzy is a writer/composer/arranger/orchestrator/sound engineer/producer/teacher/performer/band mate/experience crafter with a lot happening even as daylight grows ever shorter. Her work, her plans, her experiences absolutely color our days. As do the bands with whom she performs and will be performing with. As do some other bands we know because it really is a small world.

And yes. Ours is filled with music, creativity, and a daughter who's reaching ever breathtakingly higher.

Up the ladder more, our careers are still going full throttle. We're still relentlessly engaged with them regardless of the challenges... maybe because of the challenges if I'm being completely honest. And then Kimmer's actively pursuing her doctorate and it looks like (I hope I hope I hope) I've got a pretty serious documentary in front of me.

These challenges are fulfilling, I guess I'm saying. They count as net positives to the quality and scope of our lives. And they've been part of the juggling act we do that goes back to our very first date.

Okay.

Now at the same time as all of the above, treachery's afoot. For starters, a number of major surgeries occurred among friends and family during our first week of return, all of whom are actively on our minds.

The death. Of a young person I knew once upon a time. That's also part of the week to which outrage is a legitimate response. As is sadness. As is a certain measure of heartbreak coupled with thoughts about the complicated mess that is life along with how and why people survive it and why other people don't and how do the survivors, well...

How do they continue to survive their trauma?

Closer to home, we're dealing with the impending though not imminent death of a family member. It's a complex, complicated situation we're navigating that's already given rise to discussions about memorial services and eulogies.

It's a monster ambiguity hanging right in front of us and I'm not joking.

It's complex.

And it's complicated.

We're in that neck of the woods on this one where it's not about winning or losing. Or even prevailing.

It's about making the best decisions and then living with them.

Gah.

Of course I'm laying this out as if it's a narrative when it's not. As if it's a list in ascending order when it's not. As if it's all arranged in some reliably doable way.

When.

It's.

Not.

Because it can't be. It's the complicated mess of our lives that's the manifestation of a full spectrum life.

E. All of the above.

And it's all the same moment. It's all present across our recent moments and our foreseeable future ones. It's a scattershot experience of everything, everywhere, all at once.

A full spectrum life.

Which we signed up for.

Which we signed up for although I'm guessing we couldn't imagine how, at the time, that was possible. And what it would entail.

Our little twenty-something love-filled beating hearts just figured

Yes. Absolutely.

I choose you.

I choose us.

I choose this.

And we did

And we still do.

Which is a helluva thing because now we do for a fact know the full scope of the life we're leading. And it's breathtaking.

That we can lead this life.

That we are leading this life. This full spectrum messy life together and yet still consider ourselves winners of some cosmic lotto.

That's overly simplistic, of course. But the vows were richer or poorer, sickness and health, 'til death do us part. And we signed up wholeheartedly without knowing what came next.

The unwritten part of those vows, of course, is an assumption. An assumption about the quality of the life we will lead together in the eye of the hurricane which this is. Which it always has been. With no sign of letting up.

Had we the forethought, we would've contractually obligated someone to assure us conflict-free and trauma-free happily ever afters. But we didn't.

Our bad.

The vows, though, are what they are. A shared commitment to a specific quality of our relationship regardless of the hurricane and the damage around us. A shared commitment to a specific quality of our relationship that itself creates the eye in the middle of the storm. The calm. The peace.

And you wouldn't believe the life that's possible in there. Our own bubble of the universe from which we can and do manage and navigate the messy complexity of the universe itself.

Don't know how else to say that.

But knowing how it all plays out and with whom I'd be playing it out?

Yeah.

I still choose her.

☺️

[linkspooky]

Yuji, Alone. 

I have been saying in my past few meta that Yuji has a really unhealthy way of viewing both himself, and his relationships with others. Yuji is excellent at reading the feelings of others and empathizing with them, and at the same time terrible at processing his own emotions, a trait he shares with Geto who he is once again paralleling this chapter by choosing to stew in isolation rather than reach out for support. 

Chapter 138 does an excellent job of showing how deep these issues run, which I will explain under the cut. 

1. Yuji and Geto

If I were to explain the unhealthy mindset Yuji has by simplifying it down to one sentenence, simply stated it would be “I want to help others, but I don’t want to accept help from other people.” 

Both Yuji and Geto are so motivated by empathy they feel like they are responsible for solving other people’s problems, and they often use other people rather than themselves as a reason to move. They’re actually selfless to a fault. In that, it’s a problem in their behavior. They do everything they do for other peope, so they have no idea what they themselves want. If Gojo is someone who has a strong self image, a strong set of beliefs, an idea of what he wants to do to the world, Geto and Yuji are people who try not to think about themselves at all. 

Not only does Yuji almost never critically exam his own motivations, but he also doesn’t think of his relationships with other people. 

This is something Yaga pointed out as a danger with Yuji’s way of going about things, all the way at the beginning of his arc. If you’re doing it because your grandpa told you so, then is it really something you want to do? When you die, is it going to be your grandpa’s fault too?

Yuji is someone who seems selfless on the surface, and to an extent he is, but just like Geto that’s not all there is to him. It’s something Gojo called out early on, Geto presented himself as someone selfless, motivated entirely by using his powers to protect others, but he was also doing so self righteously. 

To clarify what I mean by self righteous, Geto believed that he was doing something because it was the objective right thing to do, but actually it was just his own personal feelings. That’s why after Riko’s death forced him to critically examine himself, he realized he didn’t want to follow the rules of Jujutsu Society. 

Both Yuji and Geto pay attention to others, but also have the blinders on in regards to themselves, and that’s the parallel right there. Yuji says he is doing these things for other people, that his number one priority is to save them but that motivation is even deconstructed in the third chapter.

Yuji’s not actually doing this for purely altruistic reasons, but for selfish ones. He wanted to do something that nobody else could do. Yuji’s life was like a vaccuum before this point. He didn’t have any real friends, or anything he wanted to do. Suddenly he had a purpose basically gift wrapped and handed to him on his lap. 

Basically, Yuji and Geto both have this schewed way of seeing other people. They thing other people exist to validate their own existences. 

To put it simply. If Hidden Inventory Geto helps weak people than he’s valid. If Yuji helps people, then he’s valid. 

Not only is the way they view themselves built around how they help other people, but at the same time all of their relationships are built up on this as well. Relationships that are built upon shaky foundations will crumble apart easily when tested. 

Geto’s most important relationship was with Gojo, they had an intense chemistry and interaction with one another like they were made for each other. They were both good at naturally balancing each other out, Geto was the one who stood up to Gojo and acted like a tether, and Gojo ackonwledged Geto as his one and only. 

However, the relationship was also built on the idea that Gojo needed Geto. Geto was only able to view his relationships with other people in that way. Geto, wants to take care of people, wants to help people. However, eventually, he was left behind by Gojo who no longer needed him as a partner in combat. On top of that, Geto awoke to a higher purpose in ridding the world of cursed energy. Geto wants to be needed by somebody in the same sense that Yuji does, so for Geto at least being needed to save the whole world in his eyes, was just more important than maintaining his relationship with Gojo. 

Which is why both Geto and Yuji’s relationships fall apart. They are great at making relationshisps, but not at maintaining them. Attention is drawn to the fact that the trio has great chemistry with each other and get along well, but they’re also terrible at communicating with each other. 

"The seats... in my life... How should I put this? I don't want my heart to be affected by people who don't have a place there. Does that sound cold? Well, I guess there are also guys like you who brings their own chair and takes a seat." Translation by Miho.

Almost literally, I don’t want anyone who’s not a part of my life to try to talk to me or tell me what to do. Also the reference that Yuji is kind of different because Yuji just kind of walked into her life unannounced and invited himself there (this is how Yuji forms relationships with everyone.)

All three of them go behind each other’s backs and keep secrets from one another. All three of them avoid direct confrontation, Nobara even says she doesn’t really want anyone else even trying to tell her how to live her life. The Origin of Obedience arc shows that Nobara, Yuji and Megumi are all good at fighting together as a team, but also questioning if they have a healthy friendship outside of that?

Any relationship takes work, confrontation, arguments and even just plain old talking about things. However, someone who is primarily insecure in their relationships will not be able to do things.  Couples shouldn’t only argue, but couples who never argue is just as unhealthy. If you are so afraid that one argument is going to end a relationship, then your relationship was fragile to begin with. 

Yuji and Geto experience conditional relatinoships. In the sense that, they are only allowed to have friends, if they are helpful to those friends. They themselves are never allowed to ask for help. It’s true that Gojo was kind of blind to Geto’s faults, but also Geto would have never asked for help. Gojo could not see, and Geto deliberately hid things from them. 

Geto always makes his relationships on the condition that he is needed. When Gojo grew more independent, Geto took that as a sign that Gojo didn’t need him anymore and deliberately started to pull away.

Because, Geto isn’t ever allowed to be the one who needs someone else. 

2. Avoidant Attachment

This is just a personal theory of mine, but I think Yuji’s issues might even center around the psychological idea of attachment theory. Especially it’s since deliberately mentioned to Junpei, that Yuji never met his mother. 

Attachment theory is a complex idea, but basically it states that attachment to other people, that is the idea to form healthy relationships with family members, friends, romantic partners is learned instead of naturally present in us. It’s a skill people develop in their formative years. 

Those who show patterns of problematic attachment in childhood will continue the behavior into adulthood unless it’s corrected, because attachment is a skill that’s developed the same as anything else. Of the four categories, Yuji and Geto most resemble this one. 

Avoidant attachment: Children with an avoidant attachment tend to avoid parents or caregivers, showing no preference between a caregiver and a complete stranger. This attachment style might be a result of abusive or neglectful caregivers. Children who are punished for relying on a caregiver will learn to avoid seeking help in the future.

Which goes further to explain how they can be so empathic towards other people, and yet the same time completely unable to maintain close relationships with them. It’s because, they avoid people at the same time. They don’t seek out help when they need it, because, deep down they view themselves as unworthy of the help. 

Geto did not immediately break after the trauma of losing Riko, it was the year of isolation after that where he slowly was consumed by his regrets. Geto got worse and worse over a period of time because he couldn’t handle his trauma in any healthy way, until he just completely snapped. 

During that time he asked himself the same questions over and over again, but Geto wasn’t able to find any kind of healthy answer to his questions because, he didn’t reach out for anybody. It wasn’t just the trauma, it was the behavior after the trauma, the decision to isolate himself for over a year. No one does well in isolation. You need other people to grow or develop. If anything Geto stagnated. Geto’s central flaw was his self-righteousness. Rather than realizing he was wrong and trying to change this flaw of his, he just doubles down and becomes even more self righteous. He goes from believing he’s responsible for protecting all the weak people, to believing he’s a superior being tasked with eliminating all the weak people in the world. So, it’s not really that Geto changed, moreso that he stagnated because he cut off all his relationships with other people. 

And isn’t Yuji doing the exact same thing right now? Yaga even points out this similaritiy between Geto and Yuji, that they try to carry every regret and burden they have on their own. 

It’s not out of selflessness that they do this though, but rather insecurity. Geto didn’t come to Gojo with his problems, because he wanted to be the strongest alongside Gojo he didn’t want to be weak. He was deliberately avoiding Gojo. 

I think it’s important to establish that Yuji wasn’t abandoned by his friends this chapter. Yuji is alone, because he chose to be alone. He’s alone because he’s avoiding both of his friends, because he’s so, so afraid the friendship will end because it’s based entirely on the condition that he be a helpful, good person.

It’s true that Yuji is genuinely worried about his friends getting hurt because of him, but look at his choices. He’s not really tackling the problem in a healthy way. He’s doing everything he can to avoid the problem, isolating himself, and just trying not to think about things. He could try to talk with Megumi and find a solution, but he’s not doing that because he’s insecure in his attachment to others. 

I think his reaction to Choso pretty clearly illustrates this too. Yuji isn’t around his friends because he doesn’t want to be around them. Which is tragic, because Yuji is holding himself responsible for the mass murder which isn’t really his fault. However, Yuji saw his relationship with both Nobara and Megumi as conditional to begin with. He can only be friends with people he can help, and he can never receive help from them. It’s unhealthy to start with because relationships go both ways. Yuji is also, completely unresponsive to Choso.

Yes. Choso suddenly walking to him and delcaring them brothers is really weird.  I don’t expect Yuji to just suddenly start getting along with him right away.

At the same time, Choso explains what the unconditional love between family is between Yuji, and Yuji just doesn’t get it, because he either hasn’t experienced enough of it, or his grandpa the only person that ever unconditionally loved him is gone. Yuji can’t understand Megumi’s love for him is unconditional,. because from the beginning he sees all relationships as conditional. 

Yuji and Choso are facing opposite direcitons because they’re opposites. Choso is willing to hurt complete strangers too, but his love for his family is unconditional and he will do anything for them. Yuji will help complete strangers, but, he doesn’t really understand unconditional love, and even his love with his closest friends has a few conditions. 

Which is why someone who appears on the surface as such a friendly guy who makes friends everywhere he goes, can call himself “a loner” because in Yuji’s mind he is. He doesn’t have friends, he has people who need him. 

Which is just incredibly sad because Yuji doesn’t understand this. Yuji isolates himself thinking he’s doing it for the sake of his friends, but neither Megumi nor Nobara would want him to be alone. 

[hypermania]

So I'm trying to get into Sam/bucky now because of the show and all the content and I just don't see it. What am I missing? It just feels like they're both in love with Steve and don't even like each other. I want in on the secret help a long time follower out

i mean sometimes it’s just vibes and if you’re not feeling it, you’re not feeling it, and that’s fine. don’t try to force it.

but for me with sambucky it’s about the potential. sa/msteve and st/ucky are both fine and i get the reasons people ship them but they’re both lacking something for me. sa/msteve is nice and quiet and full of mutual respect and love but i ultimately find it incredibly boring. there’s no conflict. they are just a 15k coffeeshop au full of fluff. which is fine and dandy but ultimately not for me.

st/ucky, on the other hand, is basically the angst ship of dreams (particularly unrequited st/ucky—bucky having steve all to himself for so long and then the serum changes that and suddenly steve belongs to the world and then there’s peggy and steve is looking at her like he’s never looked at anyone else and bucky just has to quietly watch steve slip through his fingers) and for that reason alone i very much get why people ship it (and i even ship it a little bit too). plus, there was the way that steve was basically like “well i guess i’m not even gonna try to keep living” after he thought bucky was dead and then the shot of steve just staring blankly at the ground after the “who the hell is bucky?” line while rumlow was arresting him was like A LOT. it still makes me feel things. and then the “but i knew him” line. like all of it. it’s all very angsty and romantic and full of feelings. but that’s also kind of all it is. it’s not.. fun. there’s no levity. there’s no laughter. there’s just sadness and nostalgia and the knowledge that they can never go back. it exists in the past, completely. do they deserve a soft epilogue, my love? yes, of course. but they’re never gonna get it and even if they could, i think it would ultimately be a bittersweet illusion. when i imagine them growing old together in a house, it feels more like a mausoleum: surrounded by their past, and longing for a life they can never get back. they’re not the same people they used to be. too much has happened. they can never go back.

which brings me to sambucky: it’s just pure unadulterated potential. it’s the antagonistic dynamic they have right now, but with the capacity for more. it’s the possibility of a future. it’s the fact that they claim to not like each other, but continue to work together, trusting each other above everyone else. for as much as they bicker and argue, they are very much a team, and they have been since the warehouse scene in civil war. they gripe at each other while they’re taking bullets for each other.

i also really enjoy that they kind of sort of get to be free with each other, in a way they don’t seem to be with anyone else. sam is the first person who didn’t treat bucky like a fragile ball of trauma or an unstoppable killing machine. he treated him like a person just by being annoyed with him and that’s.. huge? for a few minutes in a volkswagen beetle, bucky got to be a person instead of a tragedy.

and sam—who, up until that point was portrayed mainly as steve’s sidekick, just along for the ride, always upbeat and ready to go—got to be annoyed. which... is kind of a big deal. i cannot even begin to imagine the backlash sam would get if he was “rude” to anyone else. but with bucky it’s just funny. with each other, they get to be more than their designated roles in steve’s story. and it quite literally got them their own show.

and the show is exploring how their roles in relation to steve are hurting them: bucky is struggling with the weight of what he’s done and is clinging desperately to steve’s faith in him as the only thing that can redeem him, and it’s hurting him. the fact that he can’t let go of steve is a problem for him. it’s holding him back. it’s making him obsessed with this piece of metal and causing him to lash out and act irrationally and put himself in danger. 

sam is struggling with the weight of this responsibility steve thrust on him. because he’s not steve and he never will be and the world works very differently for him than it ever did for steve. and, most importantly, he’s not steve’s sidekick. that’s the point. he is a hero in his own right, with or without steve, and with or without the shield. but steve thrust a legacy on him and now he has to contend with that.

and over the course of the show, we’ve watched these parallel paths they’ve been on start to converge, even on a meta level. the first episode didn’t even have them on screen together. it just showed us where they’re at, specifically in relation to how steve left them—both struggling, both alone in that struggle. and they ARE very much alone in it. the camera even frames it that way. sam is alone in his apartment when he’s looking at that shield. bucky is alone on that couch in the therapist’s office. they talk to other people but there’s still a disconnect. they’re boxed in by steve’s absence. 

then, walker is given the shield, and suddenly their stories collide into each other. they’re on screen together. they’re arguing. they’re sniping at each other. they don’t want to be doing this together but there is nobody else in the world that is in this the way they are. it’s like they’re fighting to pull their stories back apart but they keep smashing back into each other because there’s nowhere else for them to go. by the end of the second episode, we watch them physically push their chairs together so that their limbs are tangled, and we get to the root of their individual struggles that i laid out earlier. and bucky is a dick and he feels bad about it. he feels bad about it because he hurt sam. and here’s the thing: that doesn’t work if they don’t already care about each other. sam wouldn’t be hurt by what bucky said if he didn’t care about bucky. bucky wouldn’t mind that he hurt sam if he didn’t care about him. so now here we are: they care about each other. they’re hurt and they’re struggling but they do care about each other.

so we move on to episode three, where they’re finally working together, not just in tandem. they still argue, they still gripe, but they’re doing it together. their bickering has moved past outright resentment, and into more playful territory (see: the trouble man conversation). they start checking in on each other. “you good?” “you okay?” bucky moves in front of a bullet for sam. sam yells, “buck!”

and this shift in dynamic progresses even further in episode four. bucky denies that sam is his partner, but both times walker says it, bucky’s reaction is significant. the first time, his automatic response is “he’s dealt with worse,” meaning that bucky has faith in sam, that he trusts him (and then, as an afterthought, he adds in the denial about the whole partners thing). the second time walker says it, it has enough of an affect on bucky that he actually convinces himself that sam might be in danger and ruins the whole damn operation over it. there’s also sam defending bucky’s very existence to zemo, sam telling bucky to stand down with zemo and bucky listening!, AND bucky doing what sam wants (stepping in between the ayo/walker fight) just because sam says his name in a certain tone. that’s boyfriend behavior, your honor! 

and most significantly we get “she said to come alone” “i’m coming with you.” this particular exchange matters to me for three reasons:

1. it’s bucky’s way of saying you’re not alone. i’m here for you. i care about you and i’m not going to let anything happen to you or your family. 

2. it’s the affirmation that they are a team. they’re in this together, no matter what. sam doesn’t have to ask bucky to be there. it’s a given.

3. it’s a parallel of sorts to that scene in catws when steve says, “you don’t have to come with me” and sam says, “i know. when do we start?” that conversation put sam and bucky in each other’s lives, tethered by steve. but this conversation moves them past him. it’s the first time that their partnership has absolutely nothing to do with steve or the way he ties them together. this is just about them.

i don’t know what the next two episodes are going to have in store for them but there is an obvious progression here so far. and there’s a lot they still need to work through. (there’s a lot bucky needs to apologize for.) but there’s possibility. there’s a future. there’s potential.

they already care about each other. they already trust each other. and they have the capacity for so much more! their bickering could turn to teasing and then to flirting! their partnership could turn to actual friendship and then to feelings! nothing is off the table with them: friends with benefits. pining. angst. fluff. hurt/comfort. fake relationship. there’s only one bed. pwp. being in denial. all the possibilities work! they could be all of these iconic otp posts:

missionary so we can continue our fight from before.

surprise! we’re making love!

character A gets hurt and character B realizes they’re in love when they lose their fucking mind about it

I’ve decided that my favorite ships are those ones where you don’t care if they’re together romantically or not, as long as they're together. It doesn’t matter if they’re kissing, as long as you know they’ll have each other’s back through everything, and really it’s a stronger bond than if they were banging anyway.  Because it’s all based off of trust and loyalty.

no trope fucks me up more than when person A watches person B with softness and wonder, all while person B is unaware

‘you’re a disaster i can’t believe i’m dating you.’ ‘i am irresistibly charming. or w/e’

which member of your otp says “no” right after the other takes a deep breath

In your OTP who gets tangled in their clothes during a strip tease and who sits there and watches them struggle.

Ok but which part of ur otp unironically calls themselves “a fucking delight” and which one immediately snorts

they’re both stubborn and it’s complicated

for your otp thing: who dies and who destroys a fucking city in grief

Which one is nervous before their first kiss / first time And Which one whispers ‘its just me, relax’

one time when i was a little drunk and laying in bed with a guy, i kissed his neck and mumbled ‘i could beat the shit out of you’ in his ear. he said ‘i know’

character A is pretty much 85% of character B’s impulse control

as much as i love the trope of a character falling fast and hard for someone, i also love the subtle descent where they don’t really think about it; where that person is just kind of there until one day they realize that person is so ingrained in their lives and they cannot do without them. where there is no conscious effort on either ends to become romantically involved but somehow the thought of them being with someone else is disconcerting. where ‘i enjoy being with you’ unwittingly turns into ‘i want to be with you’

The best ships are ones where feeling are confessed not during romantic and tenderly picturesque moments, but in the middle of a heated argument when one of them, in a fit of frustration, bursts out with ‘because I LOVE you, you dick!’

Who in your OTP asks the weird questions in the middle of the night and who hits the other in the face with a pillow

Imagine your OTP making out on a couch, but then one of them accidentally rolls off and the other one is either frantically asking if they’re okay or laughing at them

when you ship that couple that stubbornly refuses to say “i love you” to each other even tho they’ve had like 5 tearful “disaster is coming and i may never see you again” moments 

pairings where they “hate” each other but would be devastated if anything happened to one another aRE MY FUCKING WEAKNESS 

and on and on and on. 

in summary: it’s the potential. 

[ganymedesclock]

a thing about your headcanons that really intrigues me is that, much as Knuckles seems to have originally been done as a contrast or rival to Sonic back in the Genesis days, your take on them has a opposite approach to the responsibility they feel, but done in opposite ways. Sonic runs from responsibility and doesn't want to think about it, while Knuckles feels guilty about NOT being responsible to an extreme, and since people don't often deal with how they're similar, i really like this

Honestly, this is a thread that is not exclusive to Sonic and Knuckles, but actually ties in heavily to a major theme I'm considering and working in Worlds AU.

Basically, "freedom" has always at least nominally been a theme associated with Sonic. It's in his motifs, it's in his attitudes, it's the quality that people tend to envy when they compare themselves to him- whether that's Knuckles who feels bound by fate and obligation, Tails who feels like he might not be enough or can only keep up, Amy who dreads the drudgery of her ordinary life by comparison. Hell, one could say it's even in the many one-off characters who are introduced with Sonic blowing into their life, changing things, inspiring them to grow, and then leaving- Elise, Merlina, Chris Thorndyke, Chip, Shahra.

But it's a theme that's kind of been weakened in the direction that the games took.

In Sonic SatAM, the concept of freedom vs. tyranny was rife in the setting. Robotnik had his boot down on 90% of the world and the remaining pockets are either actively dwindling, or struggling along as best they can through limited resources. All characters are- at any time- in danger of losing specifically their freedom; not their minds, but control of their bodies. And it's a compelling hook.

But the gameverse has very long not been that, and since Sonic Adventure, the world of the games has been very metropolitan. There's a bunch of cities and countries and everybody's going about their daily lives and Eggman's still a wannabe conqueror but he's now become abstracted, a supervillain, who might have this big scheme or that, but- basically until Sonic Forces- we have never had Eggman really decisively in control. And in his absence, there are not really ever any consistent or clear threats to freedom except that, yeah, we guess if we let someone like Solaris or Perfect Chaos or Black Doom run wild long enough that would kill people and then nobody would be free, but... that's an abstract and inelegant way to speak to one of your main center themes.

(and I personally don't like Forces basically trying to reinstate- even if temporarily- the SatAM status quo, even if I think some people like the IDW comics have done interesting things with that, but that's my personal relationship with the character of gameverse Eggman and how I view him distinctly from SatAM Robotnik, as absolutely iconic as the latter is)

I don't think you need an encroaching dystopia per se to make a meaningful discussion out of freedom- I think using the modern gameverse's more colorful, populated world opens up a lot of possibilities for that. So, a major thematic thing I've landed on is that abject tyranny- while the easiest 'threat to freedom' to scan and oppose- and an important one!- is not remotely the only thing that challenges freedom.

A big thing is responsibility.

Responsibility is the thing that most of us sacrifice our freedom to on a daily basis. That may sound dramatic, but it's true; we may have other reasons for it, but we don't just run off somewhere else or go have an adventure or leave our job because we feel responsible to things. And responsibility isn't a bad thing- it's good to feel reliable or trustworthy. If you enjoy your job or your coworkers, you want to do well at it. Having a house is a responsibility, we take care of them. Having a relationship of any kind is a responsibility; so is having kids. If none of us were ever responsible, society would fall apart and we'd all live lonely lives. Moreover, we'd have very little power- ironically a lack of responsibility can lead to a lack of freedom in some regards.

But also, it's very easy to give too much of yourself away and not have any left. I mentioned before that many characters are consistently depicted, across many continuities, idealizing Sonic- because Sonic's free! Sonic doesn't buy groceries or pay taxes or do boring stuff, he certainly isn't stuck in a frustrating or isolating situation, and this can even tie into one of Sonic's major themes- he refuses to be talked into accepting lesser evils.

In Sonic and the Black Knight, Merlina tries to explain to him why she's using Excalibur's scabbard- why she's doing bad things, trying to justify it that she can't just let the kingdom end, even if that means needing to twist it into a horrible place to live- to which she at one point, in frustration, asks if Sonic understands, to which he responds, "No, and I don't want to."

While it's not exactly a perfect moral stance (those don't exist), there is something to be said powerfully for the idea that Sonic as a person has a certain rejection of responsibility as a chain to let bad things happen. He rejects loyalty to a thing that drives you into cruelty.

And this is really interesting, when we consider- specifically in the very first game that featured Shadow and featured him explicitly as a dark antithesis to Sonic- that is exactly what happens to Shadow.

Shadow is not, by default, an amoral person. Pre-trauma, we see that he doesn't want to hurt others, and frankly, as much as "ow the edge" circles (and is somewhat warranted), we can often see that he's standoffish but fairly civil; someone who is dealing with a lot of stresses and problems, but doesn't often relish hurting others unless he's already desperate, frustrated, or looking for an outlet or solution. And in adventure 2, Shadow is led into nearly ending the planet on account of loyalty; to the idea of Maria, to what he believes she asked him to do (and what he believes is owed to the people who killed her)

It's kind of conspicuous that if you think about it, most of Shadow's arcs in various games that focused on him are about questions of what's owed- to him, or to the world. Does he owe a debt to Eggman? Rouge? Black Doom? Gerald? Maria? Does the world owe him a debt of anger and pain to be paid back in vengeance, or, is he the one who owes the world a chance? Does he owe himself a chance? These are questions of Responsibility.

So to bring this back to Sonic and Knuckles, I think that's an interesting context to set them apart, because both of those two definitely have a special relationship with the Chaos Emeralds. Knuckles is the guardian of the shrine that doesn't just have positions for the Master Emerald, but all seven smaller ones as well; and Sonic... well, Sonic consistently and regularly does stuff with the chaos emeralds nobody else does. He transfers super forms to other people, or even awakens them in people who haven't done it before (as implied with Burning Blaze in Sonic Rush). And at least according to Sonic 3&K, his arrival (?) was foretold.

But Sonic... does not feel responsible about the chaos emeralds. If something's happening with them he wants to know but it's about curiosity. When the chaos emeralds are corrupted, tarnished, and lose power, Sonic... juggles them, while he's confused about his own (related) corruption. It's weird, it's concerning, but it's not an obligation. He gets distracted buying ice cream in the same scene.

By contrast, the only time Knuckles feels confident shattering the Master Emerald, it's as an obligation- he has to protect it from Eggman even if it creates more work for himself, and he later freaks out and nearly crashes the shuttle he and others are on when a near-miss scatters the master emerald pieces he's collected across the ARK. I can only imagine half of the plot of Sonic Unleashed would've given Knuckles an ulcer if he'd been around for it. You did what to the Chaos Emeralds, Sonic????

Basically, I think while freedom vs. tyranny is definitely Sonic's brand, you can have a lot more fun and shore up the thematic strength by also factoring in "responsibility" as a secondary theme and this strengthens or illuminates many characters and their arcs.

[xoxo-teddybear]

Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt. 2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: fluff, childhood trauma, cursing, Bakugou kinda OOC, DADZAWA

Summary: More Bakugou x reader interaction! And Y/N’s first time training with the students and showing off her “quirk.” How will the students react?

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Once you saw the familiar blonde, you smiled. “.....hey back, cutie.” You said with confidence. Bakugou only blushed at the comment and sucked his teeth as he rolled his eyes.

“Soo...you’re my escort?” You flirtatiously asked. You can’t help it, it’s just your personality. Plus, after years of villainous work, you had to learn how to speak with a calm and seductive voice to get your way with your victims.

“Yeah, that means I’m stuck with your dumbass for the next few months. So try to keep up and don’t you dare hold me back.” He ferociously said. You just giggled and went to mess with his unbuttoned shirt collar.

“Whatever you say, Fiesty,” as you examined his clothes, you just had to speak up again. “Whattup with the clothes? No tie, no tuck, no....prestigiousness?” Bakugou scoffed at your question.

“Oh yea? Like you’re one to talk. You completely changed your uniform. You realize the girls in UA don’t dress this-“ you cut him off.

“What? Rebellious?”

“I was gonna say hot.”

“That works too.”

“Suits you real well.”

“Oh, I bet it does,” you smirked. During your time throwing spitfire replies to one another, you realized how close both your faces have gotten. You saw ruby eyes, perfect porcelain skin with the perfect amount of tan, soft but fluffy, spiky, blonde hair, and a smirk that copied your own. As Bakugou was too busy admiring your looks, you gently placed two fingers under his chin.....and flicked his head upwards at the sky.

“Hehe...let’s go, Cutie. You gotta show me my dorm, remember? Cant stand here forever staring at me.” You chuckled to yourself.

“I was not doing any of that shitty woman!” Bakugou yelled. As Bakugou did that, Rumor ran right across him making his balance go all outta wack.

“Heh..yeah, sure.” You said as you walked off with Rumor, petting his head. Oh, this is gonna be fun.

——————————————————————————

On the walk to the dorms, you and Bakugou got to know each other quite well. Just the basics though. Favorite music, favorite foods, personality types, likes and dislikes, all that good stuff. You also both shared a little flirtatious banter, not that you minded, however it threw Bakugou off. When the fuck does he ever talk like that? As you both walked up to the entrance you realized something.

“Hey, you never asked me about my quirk. How come?” You asked as you both continued to walk to the doors.

“Don’t need to. I’ll see all I have to see tomorrow during training.” Bakugou said.

“Makes sense.” You replied.

“Of course it does,” He said as he opened the doors to give you a tour. You were in awe. Growing up, you never really had a home before the league. You slept in benches, jail cells, or straight on the ground outside in the rain. But this? Basically luxury to you, but of course you kept up a chill persona.

“This is the common area, kitchens over there, everyone gets their own bathrooms, the showers are that way, and I’ll show you to your dorm,” Bakugou said, giving you the “grand” tour. As you walked up to your room, you saw how already filled it was...but this wasn’t any of your stuff.

“Didn’t realize you were into music like that.” Bakugou said. When you turned to look at your desk, you saw how large it was and how there was a control panel they used at recording studios on it. Set up with it was a microphone that artist used when recording their songs and there was a mini keyboard and acoustic guitar set up on the side. Then it hit you. You had gone over your interest with Mr. Aizawa, guess he filled up the room to make you more comfortable OR to make it seem like you were a normal kid who actually had stuff. In reality, you had nothing but your villain costume (which you demanded to be kept) and Rumor.

“Umm...not really. I just sing a little and enjoy writing little songs. Nothing special really,” you replied to him. “Uh, could you give me a sec? I wanna change out of this uniform and relax a little.” You said to him.

“Yeah, sure. Dinner starts at 6 so be down by then and come meet the rest of the morons.” He said as he backed out the room and walked on to wherever. You began to explore the room. Rumor took comfort on the soft bed, and you looked at the recording area. It was amazing. You strummed the guitar, taking in it’s beautiful sound and dabbled on the keyboard. You then realized.

“Rumor! What am I gonna change in to?! I literally have nothing!” You said as you ran to your closet, astound when you saw the large amount of clothes, along with a little sticky note.

Enjoy the gift, Y/N! Cant wait to have you in class!

- Ms. Midnight

“Midnight, huh? Then these clothes must be hot as fuck!” You excitedly said. Safe to say you put on a little fashion show for yourself and Rumor. As you put on the clothes and made new outfits, you noticed how she had gone for the typical “baddie style.” Lots of ripped jeans, plenty of casual heels, thigh high boots, leather jackets, bomber jackets, crop tops, tube tops, and of course booty shorts. You also noticed the massive amount of jewelry given to you. Plenty of necklaces and anklets. Very pretty.

Once done with your little show, you and Rumor looked at the clock. 5:30.

“I think we should stay in here. Who needs dinner anyways?” Rumor only growled at you. He knew better. You both needed food and you should go down there and make some friends.

“Oh c’mon! We’ve gone days without food before, why not now?” You saw how Rumor gave you this look of ‘because it wasn’t available then’ and you rolled your eyes knowing your friend was right.

“Fineeeeeee,” you reluctantly said as Rumor gave a happy bark and wagged his tail. You changed into some comfortable clothes and went to the common area.

When walking down there, you saw a spikey read head, a tall black haired boy, a girl with long greenish hair, and then you saw Deku, Kaminari, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Bakugou. While they were talking, the red head took notice of yours and Rumor’s presence.

“Oh! Hey L/N! Rumor! Come join us!” How sweet of him to include Rumor. As you both walked towards a single open seat on a solo couch seat, you saw how everyone had their eyes set on you with a smile.

“Umm....hey.” You nervously let out with a small laugh. As you tried to settle, Rumor placed his head on your lap to calm you down and Bakugou took notice of this.

“Would you idiots stop staring at her like that? She’s obviously kinda nervous.” Bakugou said with his head thrown back on the couch. The red head then spoke up to agree.

“Oh right! Sorry about that L/N!” He said kindly.

“No, it’s no trouble. And you guys can quit the formalities and just call me Y/N. I don’t mind!” You sweetly said.

“Alright then, nice to meet you Y/N! I’m Eijirou Kirishima, this is Hanta Sero, and Tsuyu Asui. I’ve heard you already met these guys, and I’ve also heard you got Bakugou as your escort!” Bakugou growled at Kirishima for mentioning that.

“Yeah! He’s kinda.....bratty?” You teased. Bakugou only looked at you with wide angry eyes and a small blush.

“Ha, yeah. Bakubro can be a brute, but when you get to know the guy, you find out he’s just a big ole softie with rough ways.” He joked.

“I AIN’T SOFT SHITTY HAIR!” Bakugou screamed. The group just giggled and watch the interaction go on. You guys talked and laughed and they got to know about you and Rumor a little better. Finally, a girl with a black ponytail came in.

“Hey guys! Dinner’s ready! Oh! And L/N, we made 2 steaks for Rumor. I hope you don’t mind.” She said.

“Oh not at all! Thanks you guys, that was really sweet of you.” Rumor understood what was going on just by the scent in the air and he was excited. As you all walked to the table and took ur seats, everyone got to talking again. Dinner went on and Rumor was enjoying his steaks.

“Man..what a lucky dog. Steak for dinner.” Kirishima spoke. Everyone chuckled and continued on. The girl with the pony tail, who you learned was nicknamed Momo, walked in with a final pot.

“Okay you guys! This is the final dish! Just some Miso soup to peck on. Kaminari, can you go and grab the ladel?” As the blonde walked away, everyone was excited for the dish.

“Sorry guys, the soup is a little too hot. You should wait for it to cool down before digging in,” Momo said apologetically.

“Oh hey, no worries, I have a solution!” You said as you made a tiny little tornado with you air bending and sent it to the pot of soup on the table to cool it down. The massive amount of steam was clearly decreased and everyone thanked you.

“So your quirk is tiny tornadoes?” Bakugou whispered to you as he was the one sitting next to you.

“No, you dummy.” You giggled until you heard a crack. Everyone looked over and saw Kaminari broke the one and only ladel. Everyone booed and sighed at the loss of miso soup and the poor blonde just apologized with a nervous smile.

“It’s fine you guys, we don’t need a ladel. Who wants some miso?” You asked and everyone raised their hands. So, you used your water bending to pick up the soup give some to all your classmates. Everyone was confused but impressed.

“Okay, what the hell is your quirk?” Bakugou asked in confusion.

“You’ll find out soon, Cutie.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied back.

It was safe to say the new nickname left you in shock with some blush and you noticed everyone stopped eating to look at you both.

“........huh?!” The group simultaneously said with blank and confused faces as Bakugou yelled at them saying they heard nothing.

——————————————————————————

The next day the students met up with Mr. Aizawa wearing any comfortable gym/fighting attire. Instead of meeting at Gym Gamma, the teacher took his students out to the Sports Festival Areana. The students all buzzed with excitement, most only wanting to know the new student’s quirk and fight style.

“Okay, today we’ll be doing sparring matches. We’ve paired you all up based on skill level and experience. One battle at a time. Whoever makes it to the top 3, those students are excused from classes tomorrow. Get warmed up, take your seats, and I’ll call up the first two fighters.” Mr. Aizawa spoke.

The students were ready. Everyone was, but no one was prepared for you. They never saw your fight style, never saw you use your quirk for battle, never even saw you pick a fight. This’ll be interesting.

“Okay bud, since it’s a 1v1, you’re benched.” You spoke to Rumor. He whined at the fact that he wouldn’t be getting any action but nonetheless, listened to his best friend. “Oh don’t give me that sass, why don’t you go talk to Kirishima or Bakugou while I’m in battle. Fair?” Rumor huffed at you, but you took it as compliance.

“Hey, Princess.”

You turned to who called you and saw Bakugou and what appeared to be his little posse following him. It consisted of Kirishima, Sero, Kaminari, and Mina.

“Oh hey guys. What’s up?” You asked.

“We’re all pumped up to see your quirk! Those tricks you did during dinner last night had us all coming up with ideas on what it could be.” Mina squealed. “I guessed substance manipulation.”

“Telekinesis,��� Kirishima said

“Weather powers,” Sero guessed

“Food control!” Kaminari answered. Oh what a piece of work that one is. Everyone looked at the fool with raised brows.

“Heh...guess not.” The goofy boy said with a scratch to his head. You all laughed and you looked towards Bakugou waiting for him to answer.

“Well..what’s your guess, Cutie?” You looked towards Bakugou as he just stared at you.

“Elements,” he said calmly. That shocked you. Who knew someone was gonna guess. Well, he was still wrong considering it wasn’t really a quirk but yeah.

“Just a guess. I’ll figure it out once I see you fight.” He added on.

“Oh yeah! Mr. Aizawa pairs us up based on skill level and experience! We’ll get to know more about how you fight based on your partner.” Mina said.

As the group continued talking, Mr. Aizawa finally came to speak up.

“Okay, listen up. I’m sure you’re all curious as to what L/N is able to do, so our first match we’ll be L/N vs. Todoroki.” Everyone had their jaws drop. Shoto Todoroki?!? He was one of the top students in the class in both intelligence and physical skill. He is an excellent fight with a powerful quirk. How the hell are you supposed to win. You only smirked and walked up to the fighting area. As you walked, a pair of red eyes followed you.

‘What the hell can this chick do?’ Bakugou thought to himself.

As you and Todoroki met in the middle facing each other with Mr. Aizawa in between you both, he spoke up.

“Okay, here are the rules......there are none. The match will begin when you hear the buzzer go off. You’ll hear 3 beeps then a ring, then you can spar. You can use your quirk at any level, do whatever you may please, do whatever it takes to win. The match stops when one of you falls off the square or is knocked out and unable to continue fighting. Understand?” He said while looking at both of you and speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. You both nodded your heads but Mr. Aizawa looked at you with a more stern stare.

“Do you understand, Y/N?” He asked once more. You nodded your head and waited for him to start the match. He walked off the field and went to sit with the class. They all stared in anticipation. Bakugou focused his eyes on you.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Ring!

At the first second, Todoroki used his left side to throw some fire your way. At the sight of the burning flames you only smirked and extended your hand. Everyone watched you do, what they thought was, nothing. They only saw you stand there.

“Y/N DO SOMETHING!” Bakugou screamed in fear of you getting hurt.

When the flames came close enough, you used your fire bending to move them around your body and attack Todoroki. The boy had a quick reaction and sent an ice wall towards you. Perfect. You ran to the ice coming your way and turned it into water, which you used to push back Todoroki, closer to the edge. You sent fire his way and he ran at you, dodging it and attempting to strike you. You flipped away from him. Everyone saw how acrobatic you were. When he came closer once more to punch you, you turned to you side and struck his right shoulder, paralyzing his arm.

Todoroki screamed in shock and pain as he realized he couldn’t feel his arm. He sent more fire to you, in which you used your air bending to put the flames out. You used your earth bending to lift the area that Todoroki was standing on into the air, as he flew through the air, you blasted fire from your feet to get up in the air and blasted him with a gust of wind that knocked him out the area of the square. When he fell to the ground, he hit the field instead of the square, meaning he lost. You fell closer to the concrete but used your fire to slow down before you could crash. Once you landed you looked around for Aizawa.

Beeeeeeeepppppp!!

“That’s the match. L/N wins.” You looked around and everyone still sat in shock. Nobody even clapped. They just looked so....impressed? Kaminari was in the middle of petting Rumor and when he stopped, Rumor noticed the match was over and saw you standing. He howled to cheer for you as everyone ran down to say something. As the crowd came up to you, you were hit with compliments.

As the class continued to hype you up, you saw how Bakugou still just stared at you. You walked over to him.

“Impressed?” You asked.

“......you’re good.” Bakugou still said in slight shock. You only laughed at his answer. You knew he thought more, but you weren’t gonna push him. Every one saw Todoroki get up and limp towards you.

“L/N....that was a great fight. You’re incredibly skilled.” He complimented.

“Thank you Todoroki. And please, I told you to call me Y/N.” You kindly said

“Right, of course...ah.” He hissed in pain. You felt bad for how hard you went on him.

“Here..let me just,” you took the moisture in the air and took water out of it. You used it to heal up Todoroki’s injuries and soothe his pain. “Feel better?”

“Very much, yes. Thank you.” He said.

“No problem, but your arm is a different story. I temporarily paralyzed it with my dim mak fighting style. It’ll take some minutes for it to come back fully.” You explained.

“Okay. That was really impressive. I had no idea there was a fighter like you.” He said once again.

“Whats dim mak?” Kirishima asked.

“It’s the fighting style I use. It’s attacks a person’s pressure points with quick and sharp jabs. It paralyzes a person or just a limb for a good hour depending on how hard I hit.” You replied.

“Pressure points?” Kaminari asked.

“They’re the parts in your body where you’re sensitive and can be detained when they’re hit. With that, it means I know the human body like the back of my hand. Thanks to that I’ve come up with a skill called Chi Blocking.” You explained.

“What’s that?” Mina asked.

“Something you’ll all find out about the next time Y/N fights. Until then, let’s have Todoroki get to recovery girl and let’s continue the matches.” Aizawa said. As everyone went to their seat and Aizawa called up Iida and Aoyama, Bakugou asked you a few questions.

“What the fuck was that?!” He asked.

“What?” You giggled.

“The fucking fire, and the wind, and you moved rocks and you turned his ice into water!!” He spasmed out.

“Uh huh...” you said with a smile and raised brow.

“A-and the flips! You flip and did a bunch of acrobatic tricks, and the jabs, the “dim mak,” it was- I was- it was-.......HUH” he exclaimed.

“Not like Bakugou to freak out over a fight like that. What happened to Mr. Cool Guy?” Denki said.

“You shut your mouth, Sparky!” Bakugou threatened. “Look, all I’m tryna ask is..how and when did you learn all of this? Your quirk is crazy OP, and your fighter skill is insane! Appreciate that bullshit cuz I don’t say shit like that often.”

You just laughed and sighed. You weren’t sure how to answer his question. “Umm,” you started “I don’t really know...I just-“ you were cut off by a mouse. Principle Nezu, you remembered him.

“Mr. Aizawa?” The peppy mouse asked.

“Yes?” Aizawa replied.

“May I speak with you? Concerning your new student and her transfers. There’s been a few complications with her paperwork that need to be solved.” He politely asked.

“Yes, I understand sir. Class, free day. Head back to your dorms but be sure to get in an hour and a half of training today. That’ll be all. Dismissed.” The pro said as he followed the principle. As students gathered to leave and head back to the dormitory, Bakugou stopped you.

“Hey, wait. You still gotta tell me how you learned all this, Princess.” He said.

“What’s there to say?” You awkwardly laughed out. “Uh..I discovered my...quirk.. while doing some work-“

“Work as a child?” Bakugou asked.

“Sorta. I discovered it there and then..I met someone who trained me how to fight like that.” You explained.

“Your parents must be really proud.” Bakugou slightly smiled.

“Umm..yeah, I bet they are.” You said kind of skiddish.

“I can imagine the look on their faces when they saw the pretty impressive quirk you got. My parents were pretty shocked too with mine.” He added on.

“Oh really? You can imagine their faces?” You laughed out nervously. ‘I sure can’t,’ you thought to yourself.

“I mean yeah. Parents usually....” you drowned him out. Parents...parents...parents...PARENTS. You snapped.

“Bakugou!” You said with tone. “I don’t have or know my parents....” you said as he stopped talking and dropped his jaw to the ground. Before he could say anything, you bit your lips, called Rumor to go, and left, leaving Bakugou in regret.

As you ran with slight tears in your eyes, you told Rumor to change into a giant wolf. He shifted and you hopped on him.

“Let’s go to the spot, Rumor.” You said as he took off.

——————————————————————————

When Rumor arrived at ‘The Spot’ you settled. The spot was beautiful. Tall trees, beautiful plants, plenty of adorable creatures, and a gorgeous pond right in the middle of it all. You layed against a tree as Rumor placed you down so you could stop your tears and he transformed back into his wolf-dog form and cuddled up against you.

“No parents...” you said aloud. Although sad you never really got to experience or meet your parents or what it’s like to have them or a family, you were conflicted. Yes it was sad not having parents or a family, but you never had one so it’s hard to tell how you feel about the topic. As the thoughts ran through your mind, your eyes glowed a bright white and when you opened them, you weren’t at the spot anymore.

“Hello....?” You said as you looked around. “Helloooo...?? Anyone there?”

“Welcome back to the spirit world, Y/N.” When you turned to your side, you were in awe.

“Avatar Korra!” You bowed to show respect but then went to hug your spiritual mentor. She embraced you with wide arms. She’s always been the friendly, open, optimistic type. “What am I doing here, Korra?”

“Why do you think you’re here, Y/N?” She said with a sly smile and hands on her hips, but beaming eyes.

“My parents?” You questioned but she only shook her head.

“Your path.” Korra stated.

“My path?” You asked.

“Yes. Or more so, the path you choose.” She corrected.

“I don’t understand.” You said.

As Korra continued to smile at you, you both stood still as the world shifted. You looked around and saw the LOV hideout.

“The league? I don’t understand, what does my path have to do with them?” You questioned, but before she said anything, the world shifted once more and you were infront of UA’s building.

“The school?....Oh, this isn’t some typa light and dark thing, is it?” You asked Korra.

“It is.” She replied back.

“Ugghhhh, we’ve been through this. I’m a bad person. I could never fit in with those goodie two shoes! I’m a member of the league of villains! Not heroes. My path is the darkness.” You stated.

“Is it? You weren’t born into darkness.” Korra said.

“What?....”

“Y/N, you’re not a bad person. Your a villain because of survival. That’s the life that you know. That’s the life that you were kidnapped into.” Korra began.

“Yeah but-“

“But nothing. You know in your heart you would much rather be a hero than some low life villain!” Korra exclaimed.

“No I couldn’t. They’re too good. I could never be that great. Hell, I’m on a plan to take down UA right now!” You said.

“And are you doing that because you want to? Or is it because you think the league is gonna torture you any less if you succeed......you don’t wanna take down the heroes. You wanna be like them.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I can’t!”

“But you can. You can be all these amazing things, but you’re just on the wrong path with the wrong people. All you have to do is make the choice to leave them. You want to be good, Y/N. It’s in your nature. You’re the avatar after all. It’s your destiny to bring peace to the world.”

Once Korra had said that, a flash came and you were back in the spot. You gasped as you returned and shook your head. You saw it had gotten dark now and figured it was best if you headed back. You woke up Rumor and asked him to become a giant wolf again. He shifted and brought you back to UA. Along the walk, you couldn’t help but think back to what Korra said.

“My path......light or dark...” you looked down at your palms and squeezed them shut in frustration. You huffed and looked ahead, and saw you arrived at the front of the dorms. Standing there, waiting for you, Mr. Aizawa.

“Welcome back.” He said to you.

“Hi...” you blankly said as you attempted to get past him. However, he stopped you from going in.

“Not so fast, we need to speak first before anything else.” He stated

“What about? Because I’ve had a really long and kinda frustrating day, and I don’t need some bullshit to fuck it up even more. I mean, I’m so aggravated that I-“ a piece of paper dangling in your face shut you up.

“What are those?” You asked the hero.

“Adoption papers. I’m now your legal guardian.” Aizawa stated.

“.........HUHHHHH?!?!???” There was no way this was happening. It couldn’t be. You??? Adopted??? By a pro hero??? One that you almost killed???

“Okay, I’m sorry but I don’t need a guardian. I’ve been by myself, on my own, the second I was born. No family raised me, no motherly figure, no nothing. It’s just been me, the spirits, and the villain who took care of me till I was, what, 5? And then kicked me out and left me stranded. I’ve been surviving on my own for over a decade, I don’t need you to look out for me.” You exclaimed.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I won’t be an annoying parent, I’m just your legal guardian. You’re still underage, meaning you’ll need permission for certain things to continue to move forward.” He explained to you. You thought about it, and damn it, he was right. If you wanted to go about this whole thing the legal way, you’d need this.

“.....Fine. Just don’t tell me what to do dAD,” you sarcastically said.

“I’m your guardian and teacher now, I can tell you whatever I want, brat. Now get inside, you’re past curfew.” He said but you only squinted your eyes at him in disbelief. Did he really give you a curfew?

“Student curfew. You live in the dorms, all students have to be in this building by 10:30,” he explained. You just scoffed and went inside with Rumor.

“Guess I have a dad now, Rumor.” You sighed. You never had a father before. It warmed your heart a little, but then you remembered he wasn’t really your dad. Just a guardian. As you walked into the common area, you saw the lights were out. The students must’ve been in their dorms. You walked to the kitchen to grab a snack before heading to bed but you saw Bakugou sitting there with a water bottle in hand. He seemed kinda bummed out. You cleared your voice to get his attention and when he looked up at you, you told Rumor to head to the room.

“Y-Y/N! Hey!..” he said to you.

“Heh..hi Bakugou...Umm..I’m sorry about the whole..running away thing. I just needed to clear my head a little.” You said as you took the seat next to him.

“No, don’t apologize. I’m.....i-.....I’m sorry for pushing you about the whole parent thing. I didn’t know.” He apologized. You only shook your head and stared at your hands before speaking up.

“It’s fine. How could you know? After all, I’ve only been here for 2 days. Besides, you didn’t really upset me, it’s just..I feel kinda outta place when the parent topic comes up. Guess I just freaked out,” you saw the look on his face. Disappointment. Is he that upset that hurt you? Or at least thought he did? “B-but don’t worry! I’m fine! For real! I’ve been parent-less for almost my entire life so it doesn’t sting like that. Hehe..wow Umm. Depressing. You know I feel like I’m rambling, am I rambling? Should I stop? I think I should shut up, or maybe I’m just gonna go now that I-“ Bakugou placed his hand on yours which shut you up real quick. You looked up at his face as he stared into your eyes.

“You can talk to me about it you know. It’s clear you wanna get some things off your chest and I’m really interested in you.” You raised your brow at that last sentence. He realized what he said and quickly tried to correct himself.

“I mean- uh- not like that, or um it could be like that! It could be, if you’re cool with that. But it’s not, or maybe, i don’t know, it’s not it’s, I was, it was, I- yeah I’m gonna stop talking now.” He cleared his throat at the end of that, settling down. You giggled and reassured him.

“No, no it’s fine. I really don’t mind. Umm, what do you wanna know. I’m fine with sharing anything.” You said.

“Okay, let’s just continue with this parent topic then....how were you raised?” He asked. This scared you. You had to be real careful with your choice of words or else your cover would be blown.

“Okay, let’s see. I was born in a place-“

“Oh really?” He teased.

“Shuddup,” you laughed and playfully hit his shoulder.

“And that place was..very private. Very unknown, but my parents Umm, i don’t really know what happened to them. The earliest thing I can remember is that..someone found me and told me my parents were gone, they weren’t my real family, they just took me in because they couldn’t let a baby die, and raised me till I was 5.” You said.

“And then?” He asked.

“You sure? It just goes down hill from here.” You warned. But he only nodded and asked for you to continue. You looked at your hands in your lap before continuing.

“I was kicked out. Left on the streets. I slept on park benches, in alleyway tunnels, on rooftops of buildings. I pawned for food and..” you didn’t know if you should admit the next part. But Bakugou held onto your hand and asked for more.

“And then?” He questioned.

“.....I did what I had to do to survive. I committed crimes, but I had to live. I was just a child and didn’t know what to do. If you look at me any different for what I did though, I won’t judge you.” You said. He squeezed your hand almost as if he was telling you he understood. He nodded and pleaded for more.

“After 2 years on the streets, a cult found me. An evil and dark cult. They used their quirks to torture people they kidnapped and made them slaves to create weapons. They kept us in cells and chains, working 24/7. It was there that I learned of my abilities. I found out I could control the 4 elements and their sub-elements. There, I also met a master. He was old and couldn’t fight anymore, but he saw the potential in me and taught me dim mak in the shadows. After a year of being enslaved there and secretly training, these people (the LOV) came in and killed the cult members and stole some of their weapons and destroyed the rest. Once I saw them taking down those horrible people, I used my abilities and they saw. I guess I impressed them and they recruited me to join their little family. I’ve been with them ever since. But then I met Mr. Aizawa and he asked me to join UA. Since the group I joined wasn’t really family, I didn’t need their permission. They were more like friends and they were even the ones who pushed me to come here.” You finished up your little story and saw Bakugou looked at you with worry in his eyes.

“And now I’m here! Sitting in a dim kitchen at UA with a cute boy at 11:00 p.m.” you said trying to cheer up the mood. “Bakugou...”

“You’re not..affected? By everything you’ve been through?”

“You don’t have to feel bad!”

“But I do! You’re here! You’re not...”

“Dead?” You teased.

“Basically!” You laughed at that.

“Y/N, I’m serious!” Bakugou tried to say.

“And so am I! You don’t have to be upset. I value everything I went through, all the good and bad.” You explained.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because it made me the kickass baddie that I am today!” You said flipping your hair and laughing. “Seriously though! Everything I went through made me who I am. It’s made me stronger, more independent. It lets me know I can handle myself. So I’m good, you don’t have to worry.” You said grabbing onto his hand again and reassuring him. He used his thumb to rub at your hand and enjoy the feeling.

“You are...probably the strongest person I’ve ever met.” He said calmly with a small SMALL smile on his face as he looked at you.

“I’ll also bet that I’m also the only “criminal” that you look like you wanna kiss.” You playfully said.

“Maybe I do...” he said with a smirk and soft voice as he leaned in closer.

“And maybe I’ll let you..” you said as you leaned in. As you two got closer and closer, your eyes filled with daze and the world around you two fell apart. It was just you and him in that moment. Until it was ruined. Just as your lips were about to touch, Mr. Aizawa came in.

“Hey!” He shouted

“GAH!” You both screamed and jumped away from each other with a blush adoring both your faces. Aizawa walked up to both of you, shoving the adoption papers in bakugou’s face.

“No smooching with my newly adopted daughter!” He said with a stern voice.

“I’m not your daughter! You’re just my guardian and it only happened like a few hours ago!” You stated.

“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t kiss, old man.” Bakugou said.

“Listen you little punk! I outta...” then Bakugou and your teacher were now going at it, yelling over each other and saying whatever, completely leaving you outta the conversation. You let out a little gust of wind to shut them up and get their attention.

“Okay, it’s late, tomorrow is Saturday, so you two won’t have to see each other, MAYBE, for 2 days. Can we just let this whole thing cool over?” You asked.

“We can, I’m just annoyed at the fact that this dynamite stick was gonna steal my daughter away from me!” Aizawa complained.

“I wasn’t stealing her, I was-“

“STOLEEEEEEE” Aizawa corrected and Bakugou just sucked his teeth and looked around.

“Whatever, can we just let it go?” You asked again. They nodded and you all went your separate way. Except for the fact that once Aizawa was outta sight, Bakugou went running right back to you and walked you to your dorm.

“Sooo..about that kiss.” Bakugou said. You just giggled and opened the door to your room.

“Goodnight, Bakugou,” you said but as you were about to walk in, he said something else.

“Katsuki.”

“Huh?” You said looking back at him.

“Katsuki. It’s my name. You can call me Katsuki.” He explained.

“Wow, trust me that much?” You teased.

“You trusted me enough to open up, this is the least I could do.” He said. You smiled and corrected yourself.

“Okay then...goodnight, Katsuki.” You said smiling. He pulled you in by your waists and held you close as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight, Princess.” He said and walked off.

A/N: Ok Cubs! That was the second part and in here we got to see the spirit world! We’re intorduced to Avatar Korra and we’ve discovered Y/N is the present avatar! How do we feel about this? Good? Bad? Let me know!!! I hope your enjoying the story so far. I know it’s kinda weird and all outta disorder but this is my personal day dream that I wanna bring to life that I’m hoping some of you enjoy. It’s just a jumble of avatar elements with a BNHA/MHA base. Please be patient with me! I know this is a Bakugou x Reader fic but it is also a story. It’s gonna grow and build and once we establish the basics, more Bakugou x Reader issues will show up along the way! I hope you’ve liked it so far! See you next time! 💗🧸

[danny-chase]

Do you think that Tim saved Dick in a way? Because we see Dick getting better as he gets closer to Tim and healing and getting back into the family, and ig it’s Tim who initiated that.

I literally don't have a yes or no answer for this... like most things in the Batfam - it's complicated. (Following answer is informed by 90s-00s comics, i can't really speak for new52 because it just... has so many issues one of which being erasing the relationship between Dick and Tim for *checks note* no discernable reason other than possibly *checks note* Didio hates legacy characters and wants only bad things for them so he could have excuses to kill them off or cancel their comics... idk just a guess)

Warnings: for Bruce stans - just look away i'm about to bring up bits of canon you most likely don't like, for Dick stans - Devin Grayson's run is mentioned, for the lovely anon - i wrote an essay, hope you are prepared

Tim coming into the family gave Dick a reason to occasionally hang around Bruce and i'm not sure if this is an exaggeration or not but he did sort of save that relationship - but whether that was a good or bad thing at the time, i can't really say. For sure - it starts off good, Bruce is actually trying to be a good dad (he comes down to Blud to check on Dick, adopts him, trusts him with his own city, calls him for backup, etc.). But we also see throughout Bruce Wayne: Fugitive/Murderer how unhealthy the relationship between the two can be. Dick built his core values around Bruce - if Bruce had actually killed here it would have been devastating for Dick (he was pretty much on the verge of a mental breakdown simply because they couldn't find proof Bruce wasn't guilty). The two literally got in a fist fight during the arc because Bruce was being uncommunicative and Dick couldn't take it anymore, snapped, and punched him when Bruce said "Bruce Wayne is dead only Batman now" - this tied into Dick finally having the relief and validation of being adopted and he couldn't handle Bruce stripping himself (and by extension, his fatherhood of Dick) away. In this era of comics Bruce had gotten physical with Dick before (here's me venting like an annoyed loser), and here's a clip from Bruce Wayne Fugitive that i just, *sigh*, canon Bruce, my detested.

Now on the other hand - getting Dick involved in the batfam more doesn't just mean he was hanging out with Bruce. His relationship with Tim is pretty great and I can definitely see where it was healing for a while - but also - to give credit where credit is due, the healing he goes through during this era of comics can also be attributed to Barbara and the Titans (the fab five specifically). Wally literally joins the Titans to give Dick a "social life" (me - it's because he's gay and wants to spend more time with Dick, actually, screw you DC you know i'm right). Donna plays a major part in keeping Dick's emotional well being in check. So like everything was going fine - Dick was healing, spending more time with friends, spending a lot of time with people he loved, like Tim, except he was neglecting his health and not sleeping - but overall he was in fact, managing, and moving past the deaths of Jason and some of the other Titans. With the current Titans - he was a hardass (which like ~trauma~ so I understand), but like things were going relatively okay.

And then Donna and Lilith died. And hooof Donna dying was like really really bad for his mental health.

Teen Titans/Outsiders Secret Files (2003) #1

[Image ID: Dick sits in a room staring at a photo, the phone rings in the background, and he doesn't even acknowledge it, the voice mail plays: "I'm not here. Leave a message after the beep." The photo is shown closer in the next frame, it's of the five original Teen Titans - Roy kisses Donna on the cheek, tipping his hat his other hand making the okay sign, Donna has an arm around Roy, the other hand on Dick's shoulder, Garth proudly stands beaming with his hands on his hips, and Dick has both his arms around Wally's neck. Everyone is smiling in the photo. A voice plays over the answering machine: "Dick, it's Roy - pick up the phone... c'mon... please... I know you're there... just pick up. Dick, we need to talk... you can't just... please..." End ID]

For context - the previous page noted that this is Dick SIX WEEKS after Donna died. Usually Dick's the one who moves on quickly, but Donna dying broke him in a way nothing else had before - and that could be partly because he was still recovering from everyone else's death.

Up to this point, Dick had been healing and Tim was definitely a part of that, but then DC decided to throw the absolute book, bookshelf, and library at him. Reading Outsiders (2003) it's very clear he's very traumatized, and around the same time, Devin is literally whumping him like it's the whump Olympics, breaking him and Babs up, burning down his childhood home, blowing up his apartment complex (killing all but like two of his neighbors), he's literally sleeping on fire escapes using newspapers as covering because he has nothing, and the bad thing i don't like to think about (i'll let you know if you ask but that one needs lots of tw, but if you know where i'm going you know what it is already), Blockbuster is killed and he blames himself - and loses it over breaking Bruce's one rule, Bludhaven is nuked, and he pretty much tries to kill himself.

So basically, he was on the path to healing (with Tim as part of that) before he got absolutely destroyed (and almost killed off by Didio in one of the crisis). Tim in his own right, was also going through a lot in the meantime, his dad died, Steph died, Kon and Bart died, i don't remember what else happened and i haven't read that era of Robin yet. Things were good until they weren't anymore, and sometimes i think Dick would regret ever exposing Tim to the life they live, and questions whether he should have just sent Tim packing x2. They do get to spend a year together on a mental health cruise, but then Damian comes into the picture, Battle for the Cowl happens, and they have their falling out. But whatever happened on that cruise must have been really healing for Dick because he actually kind of rocks it in this era - he keeps things light with Damian, Alfred notes at one point how he makes things easy because he has lightness in him, and he patches things up with Tim - catching him in that panel of Red Robin - from there they kind of go back to normal, there's a lightness to the way they banter with each other (also here) and Tim returns the favor (from the Red Robin incident) by pulling Dick out of the water.

They've saved each other multiple times over (physically), and in both in the Black Mirror and Gates of Gotham, Tim helps out in a period where Dick is starting to fall apart from the pressure of holding things together for so long (something Tim might feel guilty for, because he did run away from Gotham on a wild goose chase for Bruce). In that period, it's really clear that Dick saves Tim (he reminds him in RR, that someone does actually care for him) and then Tim saves Dick from being torn apart by Gotham.

I should point out - Damian, while starting off as kind of a hinderance, does eventually start helping Dick as well. By the end of their relationship (before the New52 destroys everything i love), Dick has helped Damian grow emotionally, and through that process Dick probably finds meaning and value in their time together, probably a lot like he used to feel with Tim. And of course, physically, they've both saved each other multiple times by the end of the run.

So yeah. I think Dick finds meaning in growth in mentoring his younger brothers, and it's likely a healing process, that healing just has some twists and turns along the way, and sometimes, on bad days, he probably feels like maybe he shouldn't have intervened at all, but i think on most days, he's proud of what Tim's become.

...I hope this is coherent lmao

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

What’s your opinion for Leo’s reaction to finding out the mc was immortal as well- not necessarily a vampire, maybe they’re some other type of supernatural. I’m really curious because Leo seems like he’s mainly in love with the mc bec they are human.

Hi lovely!!! Always wonderful to see you, hope you’re well! 💛💛💛💛💛

Tbh I think my opinion remains the same about something like this? I'm going to link to an ask I wrote up a while ago, only because it's v pertinent to the subject matter and good background for what I’m going to expand on here.

That being said, I'm happy to kind of tl;dr/expand on what I talked about there. Basically I had the feeling that Leonardo choosing MC as a lover was more circumstantial--regarding the state of his life in the moment, regarding his general feelings about vampires and vampire society, and regarding his unresolved trauma as a young kid.

I guess my answer to that question--and forgive me if it seems like a cop out--is that it really depends, I feel? I think his attraction has a lot more to do with the kind of person somebody is, their sensibility, more than it has to do with mortal vs immortal. If it was an immortal MC that showed ridiculous fortitude and self-control, measured patience and maturity, I really don’t see him not noticing that? I think he would be wary at first (assuming it’s all a front) but with time would likely feel a great deal of love if they were interested in a life together. If they were able to see and understand what he needs and answered those needs, I guess I just really doubt his ability to say no. It’s all he’s really looking for, and the fact that he hasn’t found it after so long really speaks to his frightened evasiveness and the rare nature of that kind of unshakeable strength.

I also think a lot of his hinging away from purebloods (true immortals, in other words) is that he 100% does not want his familia having any involvement in his meaningful relationships. Which might be why he shows more acceptance towards turned vampires, or potentially different supernatural beings.

But I also don’t like giving a vague answer without some kind of explanation as to how I got, to that conclusion, so a boatload of analysis follows below the content warning.

Spoilers for Leonardo’s route and a few mentions of JPN ver content:

I think he has less of an obsession with the idea of mortality, and more like a constant association of goodness and freedom and maturity with humanity. And while it's understandable, there are signs that--when he has the proper time and space to heal--his views seem to soften from those extremes. I mean his decision to live with Comte is pretty much his first step in that direction; it was him acknowledging for the first time that vampires aren't inherently loathsome or incapable of normal living. (On a revealing note, I think it says a lot that he agrees with MC that she is living in a “wolves’ den” but also feels the need to clarify the men are basically the domesticated equivalent. They don’t pose the same threat other vampires typically do to humans because of their lifestyle and sire.) Additionally, his tsun-like behavior towards Comte also seems to solidify this concept for me: Leonardo’s trying to come to terms with something he's sworn to reject since he was young, but also can't entirely deny that Comte is as chill and mature as purebloods come lmao

[There was also an event in the JPN ver–which seems to be approaching the ENG version rapidly, though only the first part is here right now–in which Leonardo fully offers to turn her. MC is essentially on her death bed, and Leonardo doesn’t want to lose her after so little time together; it’s MC that rejects the future as a vampire out of sheer principle. Even more noteworthy is that, when a reincarnation of MC is reunited with Leonardo in modern times, he is revealed to be exceptionally shaken by that loss. There are suggestions he can’t take losing her again, which could mean succumbing to the desire to bite her.]

Two things I feel are necessary to hit home:

The first being that, at least within the storyline so far, the most mature and human-like vampires we’ve seen are Leonardo and Comte. They seek to emulate the maturity they see reflected in the human beings they’ve known all their lives. Given how vampire society and their hierarchies work, I get the feeling humans are nothing more than amusing tools to them--a way to survive and creatures to exercise control over. There’s an objectification and delusion that comes with what I’ve seen, and I think it’s important in this discussion? If the vast majority of vampires behave this way (because I’m ngl, Leonardo and Comte don’t seem very keen on remaining in touch with other vampires all that much) then it only makes sense they prefer the company of humans who can at least share this sensibility of “been there, done that--stop hurting people bc you’re bored/repressed, grow up.”

One event story where this was exceedingly evident was actually Leonardo’s proposal story. If y’all remember, an old pal/acquaintance of Leonardo’s finds out he’s gunning for a human woman and basically goes “lmao not on my watch.” His name was Adam iirc, and he felt he had every liberty to try and pressure Leonardo into turning MC. Failing that, he insisted they should break up and not be together anymore. Now, on the one hand, it’s fair to say that he was looking out for Leonardo in a way–he didn’t want him to end up miserable and alone when she was gone. But at the same time I feel that Adam’s behavior is deeply revealing of vampire society as well lmao. He doesn’t really try to understand the situation, just immediately assumes it’s the only appropriate outcome. It does insinuate a lowkey cultural disdain for humanity: they are imperfect, they do not last or cannot have real value without preservation. If Adam was really Leonardo’s friend, wouldn’t he realize that Leonardo considers vampirism nothing more than a burden that he would wish on no one, much less his future wife? Additionally, wouldn’t he also keep in mind that Leonardo considers human beings beautiful just as they are? Since he fails these basic requirements to understand Leonardo, my impression is that he is influenced by the larger vampire culture to some extent. Furthermore, it underscores just how thoroughly Leonardo has been trained to keep his cards close to his chest for fear of ridicule/violent reprisal: no vampires know his true feelings on the matter because he would be vehemently rejected outright.

[One can also offer that maybe Adam wasn’t being malicious, maybe vampires find human women they fall in love with all the time and turn them (or any other permutation of companionship that occurs), so he doesn’t understand why Leonardo wouldn’t. But even then, to try to force them to break up if she doesn’t turn? A bit overkill imo but also revealing--Leonardo’s will is being ignored for the sake of upholding a kind of ill-founded superiority complex lmao]

While Leonardo does have a somewhat overbearing need to control the pacing of his relationship and who sacrifices what, I don’t think it’s wrong to be cautious--to want to think things through. I think it’s fair to be afraid that the person you’re with can’t handle what you’ve seen/known. But that also leads me to a core issue I have with MC: she doesn’t inspire much confidence that she can handle the life he’s lived, and that’s a problem of both incapacity and incompatibility. I have to wonder how he reacts when he’s with somebody at the same maturity level, or at the very least somebody with whom he can see her strength with time. When MC’s life was dying out he was desperate enough to accept biting her because he didn’t want to lose her–human or not. It’s MC that rejects this solution, which leads me to further believe that he just doesn’t care about the divide when it comes down to it; it has more to do with his difficulty with being vulnerable and fully trusting someone to care about him. (Assuming they also have the fortitude to stay hopeful and relatively strong over the course of a very long life.)

In line with that, the second thing I think it’s important to acknowledge is how deeply hurt Leonardo is as a result of his family treating him like a fool/black sheep. He outright says and heavily insinuates that his family would write her off as worthless, that they’d never accept her--that's his first thought:

Leonardo: “My familia would call you frail. I think you’re strong and beautiful. You do more with your time than we try to do with ours.”

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MC: “And those letters were from your familia?”

Leonardo: “Yeah. I don’t talk to them or see them anymore. We don’t agree...on a lot of things.”

[Brief intermission here. But lmao. Who does that sound like? If any of you guessed Isaac, that’s exactly what I’m alluding to. Isaac says in his own route smth along the lines of “Why bother trying to get through to people when no amount of talking does any good or gets you any closer to being understood?” Which also explains the way they get along to uncanny degrees: they find comfort in making things/researching because it means being able to avoid the distress that comes with being blatantly misunderstood by others. Their pain simply comes in different dimensions; for Leo it’s about loss and hiding who he is out of fear of rejection, for Isaac it’s about betrayal and people turning on him--ultimately abandonment for both. But I digress, back to the main argument.]

Leonardo: “Once they discovered my location, they began hounding me with letters again. They don’t want me to be with just anyone...They want more purebloods. I’m no more than one half of an equation for them.”

There is a clear implication that his desire to choose somebody that truly makes him happy means jack shit to them. They keep talking over him and trying to wear him down to force him into what they want. It’s no wonder--imo--that he has such a hard time just saying what he wants in his life, to feel like he has the freedom to wish and pursue anything freely. It’s no wonder he just expects MC to spit on everything that’s important to him. It appears as though only other human beings in general and Comte have ever come close to understanding him.

At some point MC realizes that his insistence on being compagni provvisori was originally just another act of sacrifice, and that he was fine with giving up his time and a little privacy if it meant she would be safe. The thing she doesn’t seem to realize in the course of this--and he struggles to say it until later on--is that it stopped being blind generosity. He really did start to fall in love with her, and that’s the whole reason things became even more messy; because he didn’t anticipate not being able to let go on top of the vulnerability. And it’s a big part of why he’s hesitating to speak. He feels he has no right to those feelings, and that he’s imposing on her--not that he’ll be welcome.

And when she did finally admit those feelings were welcome, it was compounded by the parroted views of his family and larger vampire society as a whole. Saying that she herself wasn’t enough, that she had to become a vampire to make him happy. Imo that sounds very potentially retraumatizing given his experiences (people trying to force him into marriages with other vampires who didn’t remotely understand or care about him because it was “the right way of things”). It’s no wonder he freaks out and does something incredibly stupid and insensitive–which is pretty insanely ooc for him.

Leonardo: “...It shocked them. Quieted them down a bit. Hard to get peace when your familia is immortal. Grazie, cara mia.”

Leonardo: “You’re strong, and you’re kind. So probably you won’t cry while I’m here to see it. But when I’m not looking, you’ll cry. If I had done that to you (bitten her, in other words), you’d still be crying when I wasn’t watching... Maybe it’s selfish of me, after what I did, but I just wanted to make you happy. You always look pretty, cara mia, but your smile takes my breath away...It’s not your destiny to love someone who will only make you cry.”

This man literally cannot handle anyone deeply sad or in despair. He’s always going to try to cheer people up and care about them, but general tragedy/emotional discord affects him very powerfully--and it’s likely a reflection of what I’ve mentioned before. He can’t bear to see people feeling helpless or miserable because he’s just been there too many times to be able to cope. He wants to help and heal (even if he’s suffering from prolonged compassion fatigue), but he knows that his powers are limited--even if he is a pureblood.

And the thing is? While it’s misguided to believe she would cry alone when it comes to the context of healthy romantic love (bc the idea would be that you lean on each other when something upsetting happens) he has zero reference point. He was not born as a result of authentic love (his parents never married, he was the result of a procreative arrangement), his family talks over every wish and belief he has and they still claim it’s done out of love/honest concern for him. One can only imagine the serpentine and obnoxious lengths to which his family has deceived or tried to force him into reconnecting with them. Every person that ever did know him/care about him in a real way is gone. Love, for him, has only been a series of losses that left his heart hollowed out; I don’t really blame him for expecting further disappointment and isolation and exhaustion. 

He’s also not wrong in the sense that he partially saw MC do what he outlined, and it’s a big part about what he loves about her. When she was feeling alone and lost–powerless–all she did was shrug and move forward. That doesn’t make it hurt any less, but focusing on what you can do instead of what you can’t do is healthier. And they both have the tendency to hide when they’re in pain or feeling lost, all because they don’t want to trouble anyone. Remember that when he says this, it’s a reflection of himself too: because even if he was heartbroken beyond measure, all he would do is hide it every second; he would never expect anyone to see right through him or care.

I mean I tend think of that one post I saw that talked about how people often see themselves as a social burden when most of their life has just been a series of neglect and loss. They don’t really have a concept of “you’re not heavy because I want to stay with you. It’s my choice to care about you.” How do you feel worthwhile an existence when four hundred years later your family still won’t treat you with basic dignity. The men in the mansion also all look to him for guidance and soothing because of the kind of person he is–he’s either silent in the periphery or helping. He never betrays so much as an inkling of insecurity or distress. 

I mean the whole reason Leonardo comes to the mansion is because he has absolutely no issue helping Comte in a pivotal time of need without seeking much of anything in return. Remember that Comte explains how Leonardo came to the mansion in response to Comte’s distress about the future. This makes sense considering Comte was rapidly trying to stop Vlad by beating him to the punch, and had only enough time to plan the basics. He had no certainty things would work out, much less that his boys would thrive. But Comte, unlike the boys, has become acutely aware of how much Leonardo is hiding his fatigue and despair in the course of being helped. As such, he wants to return the favor--and tries to be a good friend to him as much as he can (handles his insane familia, keeps things light and silly time between them, takes him seriously as a person, doesn’t pry beyond what’s fair.)

[I also think of that psychology concept of “the good enough mother.” It’s not always about being perfect every second of your life. It’s about paying attention and acting where it really counts. I feel like people who grow up under an enormous burden of neglect or parental/mentor abuse have a hard time coming to terms with the idea. This notion that just trying is enough for a lot of people, that showing them they’re not alone is enough to make  difficult memories bearable. Because it’s the oppressive silence and apathy that tends to kills people, imo--not people who mean well. But Leonardo doesn’t really understand any kind of reciprocal or non-self-emptying model because the concept is beyond him. He has no experience with it beyond Comte and a select few humans he’s befriended.]

Let’s continue on this point of MC crying where he can’t see her, shall we? The reason this scares him so much is not because he doesn’t care, or doesn’t want to make the effort. It’s precisely that he cares to the point of madness. It’s that he is legitimately convinced nothing he has to say, nothing that he can do, no part of him is enough to ease what she will have to trade away to stay with him. The core issue is not one of disregard or objectification, I find it to be more about his belief that he just isn’t enough. He doesn’t trust that anyone can love him to the point where just the sight of him or time with him can heal. And while there is a foolishness to this belief, it’s understandable when you consider where he’s coming from. You can call it selfishness, but it just feels involuntary--he has a lot of fear when it comes to love.

I mean Comte even says it himself? His words here always strike me: “I want you to understand, it’s because he cherishes you just as you are--more than he cares about his future or his well-being.”

Comte is openly identifying the way that Leonardo has a tendency to give more than is healthy. That Leonardo isn’t hesitating because his feelings are lacking, he’s doing it because he knows it’s going to hurt like a bitch trying to love her and never ask beyond what feels reasonable. (Spoilers: no request is reasonable. That’s the problem here. He’s convinced he deserves nothing.) Therefore turning her into a vampire to stay with him is--consequently, to Leonardo--out of the question. This is the literal hingepoint at which Comte and Leonardo divide; Comte simply tells MC he’ll take full responsibility for asking so much of her. He intends to make her happy with every single resource and skill he has at his disposal. Even if he doubts his ability or fears losing her to vampire rhetoric madness, he’d rather try than live with the regret and immediate loss. Leonardo is more resistant because of his dour outlook, that her fear of immortality is never going to be something that either of them can overcome. And/or he’s likely afraid she’s only going to regret being together after so long, and might succumb to the ridiculous sort of power/greed complexes vampires seem so attracted to by nature.

I think Leonardo is still coming to terms with the idea that he isn't alone in the world in a lot of ways, and I think he's also coming to terms with the idea that immortality does not equate to evil. Sure, human beings on average are probably more open to flexible modes of thinking and living compared to vampires--their maturity is in some ways guaranteed due to the instances they're forced to adapt to survive. However, just one look at the ruling class and oligarchies of all kinds (even just stubborn human beings) reveals how they are not immune to the same sort of megalomania, arrogance, and thoughtless violence purebloods/vampires are capable of.

So I guess I hesitate when it comes to the thought that he only loves her because she's human. If anything, I think he loves her for the fact that she's very rooted in reality--not quite so bound by the extremes that trouble him. It's one of the many reasons I believe Leonardo needs a lot of maturity and patience; the ability to differentiate between his panicked/overwhelmed/hurt reactions versus his calm is a skill in and of itself considering his capacity for concealment. To say nothing of getting him to slow down when this happens, too.

I suppose I think about it in a way that’s similar to how Napoleon’s main story narrative is framed. While Leonardo’s route doesn’t focus on the grandeur of being a former emperor, there is a clear insinuation here that he also craves normalcy? Just a little life, with a person he loves dearly, where he can rest and be himself for once. I think because he gives off such an appearance of steadiness, people fail to see that he is barely holding on--not to mention the kind of experiences he’s been deprived of (the exact security and understanding he so expertly emulates).

Closer to your question, it’s worth mentioning that Leonardo’s life goal for a while was the creation of an immortal human being--in that he fully recognized human beings could not offer what he needed as they were.

He loves humans because of their adaptability, their frequent desire to keep seeking out hope and making the best of the broken pieces they have. But then again, it has more to do with the nature of how frequently that sensibility occurs in humans vs vampires (and immortality in general): mortality does demand some level of necessity to change and grow. Which is one of the largest trauma points for him; the vampires around him just refused to grow up, always demanding at him like children and obsessed with their power complexes.

Thing is I also don't know enough about vampire society to know how correct this perceived ratio is. However, given Comte's similar avoidance of other vampires and general inability to live with them (he and Vlad were literal childhood best friends and Comte can't stand him anymore lmao) I think Leonardo may have more validity here than people give him credit for. Which begs the question--why did he quit trying to make a human immortal? What was it that stopped him? Was it the horror of what needed to be done to achieve it? Or would a potential companion start to fall more in love with the idea of immortality than they do with life itself/him? I think it’s a worthwhile question to ask, given the disdain he seems to aim at Shakespeare in particular--once human, but now emulates all of the violence and insatiability marked by vampirism.

This is where the transition from human to vampire/immortal contains another hingepoint: is Leonardo so incapable of finding a middle ground because he feels like any choice he makes will be a wrong one? Marry a human, deprive them of a normal love where they can grow old together. Marry a human and turn them, what if they are reborn with immortal wounds/psychological harm? What if time proves they get bored of him or hateful, what if they begin to act like the predatory purebloods he hates so much? Marry a pureblood/immortal, and be hounded by his family for heirs--risk being with somebody who will never love him or their children, and only inspire more misery in the world.

Does it make sense how this can really start to become an anxious downspiral for someone like him? How the personal insecurity and life history comes together to just compound stress endlessly?

That's the thing that's important here, I think. Leonardo just needs somebody who is open-minded, firm, and not easily deceived. If one takes a look at Leonardo's main story route, the whole reason everything goes to shit so disastrously is because MC stops listening at a critical point. Granted Leonardo could have been more forthcoming for sure, but when she started assuming Shakespeare was right instead of seeing how Leonardo was feeling/reacting, she responded in ways Leonardo wasn't prepared for. He never wanted to shake her faith or insinuate whatever she is is not good enough for him, and tbh I think Leonardo downspiraled because it was just the same thing all over again. What he is--a vampire and immortal--keeps ruining everything he wants with his life. 

[middlenamesage]

Black Moon Lilith and Lilith the Character Archetype: My Reflections Coming out of Black Moon Lilith Conjunct the North Node

Following the astrological transits, both the collective and my personal, I have for a while noticed that when Black Moon Lilith is at play, it’s really hard for this to go unnoticed in my life. I always could sense this energy, I knew what it felt like, but used to find it hard to describe, or at least to dissect enough to understand with any valuable meaning.

Physically speaking, the astronomical point known in astrology as Black Moon Lilith is the point along the Moon’s orbit that is farthest from Earth (the lunar apogee), a point that changes position in the zodiac along with the changing orbit of the moon. To me it makes sense this point can be so potentially relevant to us, as all living beings are very much guided by the Moon, who keeps us in connection with each other. Out where the Black Moon is, in this metaphorical place of exile, it’s more of an “every man (or woman!) for himself!” vibe. Lilith is very much about the instinct of self preservation. It’s about resisting control or exploitation by others (and/or internalizing its effects). Often the two occur together as two faces of the same trauma. Black Moon Lilith represents the areas where life has taught us that we absolutely must advocate for ourselves. However, she can also bring shame and denial of wants wherever she is placed, or transiting, because this is something that generally develops where we have been told or shown we can’t have something.

Black Moon Lilith is in fact named for Lilith in the old testament/Jewish folklore, and the way we have come to make sense of its effects (rather, its correlations to our lives) is in considerable measure inspired by this character, and her archetype- who has many interpretations. Lilith was Adam’s first wife, before Eve, who left his ass! She refused to lie beneath him during sex, saying they were created equal. I think we can interpret this metaphorically, of course, as resistance to being controlled in many potential terms… but also literally, as there is a focus of unconstrained sexuality concerning Lilith, which I have observed has some definite relevance to the Black Moon too, but is far from the only or even the most important way to understand it.

Various legends say that after fleeing Eden, Lilith went on to become a she-demon/succubus/baby kidnapper/baby killer/so on….. (those are just the accusations I’m recalling off the top of my head). But over these many years, Lilith has picked up many other story lines, provided inspiration for phenomena such as Black Moon Lilith, and gained many evolving faces and interpretations. Other than being a religious figure, and/or a she-demon, some of her contemporary associations include witchcraft/dark magic, creative renditions in fantasy and horror, gothic culture, and the biggest switch of all, her status as the first feminist.

As a potent force from the most distant shadows of the Moon’s reach, where connection to one another is compromised and we must turn to ourselves to defend our basic natures, I’ve found that Black Moon Lilith can have both positive correlations- such as going one’s own way where it truly benefits one’s life, putting one’s foot down to mistreatment, and stepping into one’s personal power- and negative correlations such as pushing away and/or disregarding other people, general concern with defending one’s own initiatives, to the point where it is premature or anti-productive, and the shame, denial and/or rage that many have developed from being disallowed their power by others.

How we express Black Moon Lilith can be instigating healthy boundaries on one hand, and setting up unnecessary walls of defense on the other. It can be self respect on one hand, and self obsession/failure to consider others, on the other. It can be self protection on one hand, and self sabotage on the other. It can be shame and denial over who we really are/what we really want on one hand, and it can be where we liberate ourselves from shame on the other. Very often, it seems to dole out as a complicated mix of both the “bad” and the “good”.

It used to be that reflecting on my own experiences, despite my fascination with it, there was very little “good” I saw about the Black Moon’s correlations in my life. I came to associate the energy of Black Moon Lilith with a few of my “trauma responses” that have caused me to sabotage relationships. I felt she had helped me stand up for myself/walk away from people a few times when I actually needed to, but for the most part, she seemed to just make me quick to unconsciously wreck budding relationships, reject others, put up lots of walls, or not want to cooperate/compromise with others- even though this was also betraying my own desires deep down to be close with others. My natal Lilith is in Libra in my 7th house, so the relational element of her is especially relevant.

I think that this Black Moon wound of mine in the realm of partnerships has several big origins/perpetuators I can site, but one of the first and biggest that I can consciously analyze, is having internalized the messages I was told by a parent growing up (not necessarily said in as blunt of terms as I received them) that no one would ever want to be with me because I am too difficult to live with. (I was also shown this when my parents sent me elsewhere to live.) Internalizing this message about myself stripped away my personal power when it comes to partnerships. For so long I approached all relationships assuming they were damned to end before they ever got too serious (something I still do struggle with), and I long believed, a belief that at some times was not as much conscious as it was confirmed with my deeply engrained unconscious behaviors of sabotage, that a ‘true’ and committed relationship is simply something I can’t have. This long internalized belief has given rise to many of my independent behaviors in relationships... both in destructive ways that compromise my connection with others and/or alienate them, and in positive senses that protect my individuality and self respect.

Here’s the thing. I was never wrong to see my trauma responses in the force of Black Moon Lilith. Black Moon Lilith and Lilith the archetype are in fact rooted in trauma. We mustn’t trivialize that part. The defense mechanisms, rage, shame, denial, sabotage, the desire to leave people and things behind, and the general mechanisms for self-preservation which can accompany Lilith stem from instances where we have felt held down, lead to believe we don’t have power, mistreated, and in some cases even horribly abused/violated. But the reality of Black Moon Lilith’s painful origins does not make it all a bad thing! It can be a very empowering thing potentially, because where we are hurt is also where we can find the avenues for healing, and for gaining acceptance of our most authentic self and desires. And there is a very good reason we develop many of these less than savory reactions from traumatic experiences and messaging. Lilith teaches us to recognize our boundaries, and to reclaim the personal power that once was lost! - even if at times we may run too far with these prerogatives in stubborn quests for independence and personal autonomy wherever she resides.

Though I have been fascinated by and intent to ponder Black Moon Lilith for probably over a year now, my reflections on it, and later on the character Lilith for which the lunar apogee is named, have really gained a lot of new ground during this last month+ of Black Moon Lilith’s conjunction to the North Node. (Which is currently separating, but still in effect.) The Lunar North Node is another very important point in relation to the Moon’s orbit, which shows the path forward. Black Moon Lilith with the North Node in Gemini has proven too be so ripe with many new experiences for me to learn about Lilith. It’s hard to say if anything has actually changed about my relationship with Lilith, or if I am just starting to see more of the positive in her that was always there, instead of just noticing and perpetuating the glaring negative. Also, I decided it was about time to accept Lilith as a part of who I am. I can’t deny the power the associated energies and the archetype has had on my life, so I might as well embrace it- both the good parts and the parts that are a work in progress. (And that is the story of my new little stud earrings with the Black Moon Lilith symbol!)

One aspect of my relationship with Lilith that I think actually has started to bloom forth in more of a clear-cut positive way with this Lilith-North Node transit, is finding the power to actively and productively embrace a part of myself, via finding/claiming opportunities to keep cultivating this part, even though it’s meant having to disregard my reservations, and even fighting through some shame. I can see now that there is a whole world of great personal empowerment to be tapped into with Lilith, and not just in the ability to leave people behind. (But of course leaving people behind is one means she’ll employ, if it is necessary for stepping into her power!)

I have always seen myself as a writer. It’s not even by choice, and a great deal of the time, for a very long time, I have really resented this natural compulsion of mine. You see, I have a deeply complicated relationship with writing, one that undoubtedly needs some healing. Well, this Black Moon Lilith/North Node conjunction in Gemini, moving through my 3rd house of communications (and as I only found out the other day, also conjunct my natal White Moon Selena, i.e. the lunar perigee/polarity to Black Moon Lilith) ended up bringing me my first opportunities ever getting paid to write… something I guess I just used to assume I couldn’t do, due to my lack of a college degree, as well as the difficult relationship with writing and my paralyzing perfectionism. But with this transit, I placed aside my assumptions of what wasn’t possible for me, and I have some hope now that accepting the opportunity to write for other people, on subjects that generally don’t even mean anything to myself, may just turn out to be the good dose of objectivity needed to help restore some healing to my writing relationship.

Once again, where you’ll find the wounds in your relationship with your personal power, is also where you’ll find how to heal them, and use them to empower yourself and others- and that healing is really what Black Moon Lilith conjunct the North Node has been trying to facilitate for us all. Of course, the process is basically never straightforward and easy, nor all enjoyable. This transit has brought a wide range of Lilith experiences in my life to comment upon.

Some other occurrences have been: abruptly ending an extended off and on relationship with someone where there was always a good deal of power struggle (and would have been power imbalance if I had not stood my ground in a lot of instances), unconsciously driving away or creating distance with a few friends, being consciously and stubbornly persistent in putting more distance between myself and my family than ever before, and facing a couple situations providing awkward trial and error experiments in how I communicate my dissatisfaction to others who wronged me. But I know that all of these experiences are helping me to evolve, and to better understand my responses which stem from wounds that have set into me with the nature of Black Moon Lilith.

And I marvel at the fact that millions of other humans have also been going through experiences which are forcing them to confront and/or evolve their own instincts and behaviors associated with the Black Moon, whether they realize it or not.

Lilith says, “These are my boundaries[or conditions]. You will respect them, or I am outta here.” She says, ‘I know what I am capable of, so I’m gonna fight for it- even if I have to shut out other people.” The placement of our natal Black Moon Lilith shows a prominent area where power has been stolen from us, whether through physical or psychological means (and where the Black Moon is transiting can bring up these issues in other areas, as well). Lilith develops from a wound, and her determination to not feel the powerlessness again can serve as either the healing or the perpetuation of it.

* * * * * * * * * * *

P.S.

For any astro heads reading this with this knowledge of their birth chart, I welcome you to comment or reflect on where 5° Gemini falls in your chart. This is where the (currently separating) conjunction of Black Moon Lilith and the North Node occurred, so the house in your natal chart where it’s transiting, and any natal placements that may be in aspect to this point, especially conjunctions and oppositions, may be able to show where/how you have embodied or encountered Black Moon Lilith energy in recent times.

NOTE :

If anyone is wondering which “Lilith” in astrology I have been referring to, since it is a fairly infamous fact that there are actually 4 things bearing this name in astrology… I have for the most part only followed the mean calculation of Black Moon Lilith (and with Black Moon Lilith’s conjunction to the North Node, mean Lilith is what I’m referring to).

There is also Osculating Black Moon Lilith (aka True Lilith), which is a different calculation of the same concept I have discussed with Black Moon Lilith. A calculation that is actually technically more precise about the moon’s orbit, for the moment that it is taken, as the lunar apogee technically jumps around a little bit a whole lot… yet I have personally found Mean Lilith to be more worth following, especially when following collective transits, if trying to examine the effects of something lingering over an extended period of time, or if conceptualizing Black Moon Lilith’s cycles throughout the entire zodiac. I don’t doubt that the calculation of osculating Black Moon Lilith (which often is not too far from the mean calculation) has a lot of validity to it too though, perhaps especially for natal chart interpretations, and progressions.

As for the other two Liliths, there is the asteroid Lilith- but that is named for a French composer, not the Lilith archetype as we know her. Not saying it isn’t something worth looking into, it just hasn’t been a point of focus for me. And lastly, there is Dark Moon Lilith (aka Waldemath Moon), which is said to be a dark body of unknown origin revolving around the Earth- but there is a lot of debate as to whether it actually exists. I don’t have an opinion one way or another, and I haven’t followed it in transits. However, its placement in my natal chart, with an opposition to Black Moon Lilith for one, does peak my interest.

[talas-starlight]

Lover - Percy Jackson x Fem!reader

SUMMARY: You’ve crushed on Percy for years, him on the other hand? It’s more of a recent development. That doesn’t mean he likes you any less.

(Older Percy & reader - they're like 21) ALSO idk perfectly what happens in trials of apollo so let’s just ✨ignore that ✨ & this isn’t sexual despite what the title may suggest

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

A/N: hi friends this is for @fromthewatertribe​ ‘s 1k follower event!! Im sure most of you have but if not definitely check out their work!! Its soooo good I promises and ugh their Leo fic?! *chefs kiss* anyway idk if this is any good oop I tried

PROMPTS USED: 9 & 11. (they’re bolded)

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of ptsd & anxiety, kissing stuff lol ish eh idk, mentions of percabeth breakup?? Does that count?

MASTERLIST: here!

An obnoxiously red and orange light filters into the motel room, even with the old and tattered curtains closed, the motels’ sign conquers its way through the fabric. Sighing you flop yourself on the faded, probably twenty-year-old bed. Nose scrunching as some dust raises into the air, consequently letting out a sneeze.

“Bless you.”

“Did you just bless yourself?”

You winced at the reminder someone else was in the room, exhausted after the two-day travel to a motel room in the middle of whoop. “Yeah…”

“You really are something, aren’t you?” At the calm amusement evident in his tone, your heart rate began to slow down. He didn’t think you were crazy.

You let out a breathy laugh. Wow, I wonder how those stains got on the ceiling? Lava monster perhaps? Are those even a thing? Probably.

“Yeah… well, someone has to Jackson.” You glance towards him, he’s sitting at the small, poor excuse of a dining table. Heart rate picking up again as he gives you a small smile, already having his eyes on you this entire time.

“If I don’t, who will?” you continue.

“Touché. In that case, I’ll do the blessing from now on; you deserve a break.” Shooting you a wink. Instantly feeling flustered at his action, you fight the urge to cover your face with your hands.

Oh, Percy, if only you knew you’ve already been blessing me for the past six years.

“Even say…. If we’re in a battle?” you muse.

He gets up from the table and walks towards you. Once he reaches your side of the queen bed, he kneels, grabbing the hand closest to him, while putting his other on top of his heart. “Oh, y/n l/n, even with my dying breath.”

With that, you burst into a fit of laughter. This boy and his sarcasm.

You play along. “Hmmm what a great tale that will be. The one and only, Perseus Jackson, spending his final breath on sweet old y/n l/n. How dare you burden me with such a legacy to live up to! They’ll think I’m your lover, you know. Demigods all around the world will come searching for me, just to gawk at the beauty that stole your heart.”

At this point, Percy has fallen from his kneeling position, completely lying on the ground, overcome with laughter.

“This isn’t funny, Percy! How am I supposed to live with the guilt of knowing I don’t live up to their expectations?! I’m hardly a warrior either, oh the disappointment.”

Gasping for breath, he manages to find his words, “Don’t stress it y/n, you’re plenty beautiful. I just know they’ll all be stunned by your beauty. Don’t sell yourself short… trust me, once they see you, they’ll be envious that my lover was so enraptured by me that you’ll never be able to love again.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. Would that be so bad?

Gasping for breath, eventually, both of your laughs die down, leaving you both breathing heavily. “C’mon Percy, let’s get some sleep. Its going to be a long week of scouting for demigods if we’re tired.”

As Percy nods, silently getting up to go to the bathroom to change, but he can’t help but think to himself that he wouldn’t mind if he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with you. No matter how long.

It had been three days since you and Percy arrived in the town you continuously fail to remember the name of. It wasn’t the only thing you were failing at doing either, because it seemed that for some unknown reason, the school that was supposed to arrive here for their camping trip still hadn’t shown up.

“We should send an Iris message to camp. It doesn’t look like they’re showing up any time soon, and by the looks of things, we’re going to need to have them send someone for more supplies.”

Percy sighed, looking out the window. Was this the opportunity he was looking for? Maybe… he knew he’d be a stupid fool to pass it up. Swept up in his new thoughts, he never replied. “Percy?”

Without even looking at you, he nodded, turning to go to the bathroom, “Yeah sure, I’ll go into the bathroom and make the call.”

Humming in acknowledgement as he left the room, you couldn’t help but stare at the spot he was previously standing in from your position on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t look too good.

For such a great hero, you wondered if this quest was doing him any good. After the first day of scouting the campsite, it was obvious he was already antsy to get home. It seemed no matter how light you tried to keep the atmosphere; it was like something was weighing on his mind. Mostly when you were both in the motel room together, you supposed it was because he barely went on quests nowadays. Understandably so, after all, who could blame him for wanting a break and spend time with his family? This made you feel immensely guilty since you could never give him words of truly understanding what he’s gone through. You’d arrived at camp a few days before him, yet over the years you were never sent onto a major quest. It upset you greatly at first, but you grew to appreciate your time at camp.

Before your mind could delve further into its guilt and self-pity, Percy re-entered the room, sitting next to you with a huff. “It’s all good. They’re going to send Leo with some extra supplies, and he’ll help us for the rest of this quest.”

Accidentally getting swept up in how pretty his eyes were, you tensed up, realising he was staring at you expectantly. Quickly nodding and clearing your throat you looked down to your lap, “ahh, okay that sounds good. I guess we’ll have time to sightsee or something…”

Sightsee? Really y/n? There’s nothing in this stupid town!

An awkward silence filled the room. Due to your previous thoughts, you were unsure how to proceed. This was the first time you were alone with him and had nothing else better to do.

Percy on the other hand, found that the obvious swooning look in your eyes was his green light. “Uhhh actually y/n?”

Oh, please don’t ask me why I basically just drooled all over you for NO FUCKING REASON. Snapping your head back up to look at him, you desperately tried to ignore the pounding in your chest that managed to find its way into your ears, “yeah?”

“There’s something I want to ask you.”

Holy shit he knows, doesn’t he? He knows I’ve liked him this entire time, and he’s going to reject me even though I never even said anything!

“I uhm… look I know we’re kind of on a small quest and all but technically we ARE waiting for Leo and the school to arrive before we continue… and you know we kind of have like at least a day or two until then so I was just wondering…”

“Yeah, Percy? You can just say it, you know; I really don’t mind.” I do mind, but please get this over with before I cry. With your heart rate increasing at an alarming rate and face heating up so much, you wanted Zeus to blast you right then and there.

Percy felt like he was about to puke, he’d never felt this nervous before. Yeah, he had his moments growing up with Annabeth, after all, she was his first girlfriend, but this was different. He wanted this to be different. Sure, he never regretted their relationship, and yes, he knew he’d always remember everything they went through- what he went through but… he wanted a clean slate. He desperately just wanted nothing more than to know that there was at least one person in his life that wasn’t constantly fighting for their lives—someone who didn’t have to live with as much trauma as him.

“W- would you maybe... Gods, do you want to have dinner tomorrow night? Maybe at the diner further into the town?”

HOLY FUCK.

He was interested and honestly, you were over the moon. Breathing out the breath you were holding in, you fail to hide the smile on your face, “yeah, I’d like that.”

His face instantly broke out into a wide smile matching yours. “Wait really?”

Unable to hold back a small giggle, you nodded, “yeah, Percy.”

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you admire the blue dress you found in a charity shop this morning while Percy was sleeping. I can’t believe this is happening.

If you had old even more awkward 15-year-old y/n that you were about to go on a date with the boy you admired from your table during meals (when he was there), you would’ve laughed. Mainly because at that point, he didn’t even know you existed, only having your first conversation during the battle of Manhattan when you were helping Will.

Okay… lets do this.

Walking out of the bathroom, Percy is already sitting on the bed in his usual t-shirt, jeans and converse waiting for you.

“Woah… You look uh-” Never finishing his statement, worry bubbled in your chest.

“Oh, uhm… I- I can change if you’d like?

Jumping up from his place on the bed, his head shook quickly. “NO! N-no don’t do that.”

“Ah uhm… okay? Sorry, it’s just I saw it in a store earlier and uhm… it looked nice, and I just thought that maybe it’d be cool to maybe put in a bit more effort? I mean… not that you don’t look good or anything! I love what you wear, you always look nice! but I don’t know… I don’t get to look nice much and… I just wanted it to be kinda special since we don’t get to… well our lives don’t really grant us these opportunities very often. Or at least for me anyway…”

“Hey, no, it’s okay! I totally get it… you look beautiful.” After hearing your small confession and thought to prepare for your date, his heart felt like it was melting. How could someone be so thoughtful when all he was doing was taking you to a rundown diner who probably only served mediocre burgers?

A small wave of guilt washed through him. Feeling like he would never be able to truly sweep you off your feet or give you that sweet, tooth-rotting love and affection, every day, just like you deserved. After everything, he knew he could try his best but even then, he’d never be able to hide the anxiety or PTSD he had acquired over the years.

You looked up to him with a smirk. “Glad to hear it, lover.”

Cheeks heating up at your comment, he laughed trying to play it off as cool as possible. Taking a step closer to you and flattening his shirt as if it would wipe away its wrinkles, he held out his arm. “Shall we, lover?”

Matching his level of fake sophistication, you linked your arm with his, “with pleasure.”

And with that, you both walked out of the motel, with hopeful spirits. To any onlooker, you both looked like normal young adults.  

“Where the fuck are you?!” Percy’s voice boomed from his end of the phone, supposedly made without any monster risks.  

You winced, slowly and cautiously walking your way out of the forest. The once clean dress was now covered in dirt and had few tears. It went perfectly with your dishevelled, twig and leaf infested hair.

“Space doesn’t really exist, so I’m nowhere. Life is built on social constructs and, since there’s no way to know if we’re really alive or if it’s just an illusion, I can’t be anywhere.”

“Y/n.”

Okay, he was concerned, and you couldn’t blame him. After all, how did you expect him to react after getting separated from you as you were chased into the woods by an Empousai after dinner?

Romance at its finest.  

“Yeah, sorry, I got caught up, but I’ll be there soon.”

Ending the call, you couldn’t help but feel guilty as you replayed the events that just occurred in your head. The date was amazing. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was still sweet. Which led you both to go on one of those cliché night walks. That was nice too, until two Empousai came out of the forest and decided to attack you both.

Percy being…. Well Percy, he swiftly got out riptide and didn’t hesitate to defend the two of you. You, on the other hand, were completely caught off guard only just noticing as one of them turned their focus on you while Percy was distracted.

And what did you do like the perfectly trained demigod you were?

You ran like a headless chicken into the forest.

After a few minutes of running, they tackled you into the ground. Trying and failing failed to shove them off, you suddenly remembered the dagger you strapped to your thigh under your dress and stabbed them.

Clearly not your proudest moments.

Finally making it back to the room, you unlocked the door and let out a huff of relief. “Well… that date didn’t go as expected.”

Percy, took in your current state staring at you with wide eyes… but he didn’t say anything. Is he angry at me? Fuck now he’s going to call off whatever this is, all because I’m an incompetent idiot! I knew I should have tried harder in the sparring activities at camp.

Feeling highly intimidated under his intense stare, you began to play with the hem of your dress, voice going quiet. “Look I uh- I know it probably wasn’t the date you were hoping for but I uhm-“

Before you could even finish your poor excuses, your words are soon lost entirely. Percy stalked towards you with a determined look on his face. Reaching you, he firmly placed his hands on either side of your face, smashing his lips onto yours.

You let out a small, muffled squeak of surprise as your eyebrows shot up into Olympus. Yet unlike your fighting skills, this was something you managed to adapt to at a faster pace.

Eyes fluttering closed, you fisted his shirt, pulling him closer.

Please don’t let this be a dream.

Because Gods forbid if this your one chance, you weren’t letting this moment end that easily.  

Moving your lips against his, the urgency he came onto you with slowly began to dissipate, feeling his soft, but slightly chapped lips move against yours. Deepening the kiss, you let go of his shirt, gliding your hands up his tense torso and along his strong arms, eventually placing your hands on his wrists that were on either side of your face. Applying a small amount of pressure to the inside of his wrists with your thumbs, his mind began to drift into a calming haze as you softly stroked them. It was almost as if you were able to brush away the worry that bubbled in him when he got back to the room, only to find you weren’t there. Yet here you were… safe.

It was intoxicating and calming having him so close to you, his entire being overcoming your senses to a point where you fought the urge to let out a small whimper when he pulled away.

Resting his forehead against yours, chest rising and falling heavily flushed against you; he continued to hold you in his warm embrace. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He whispers, breath fanning against your face.

Because as much as Percy was afraid he’d let you down, he knew no matter what you were worth every single risk.

“…but I’m going to have to teach you a few things when we get back to camp. We can’t have my lover running away in battle all the time, how will I know if you sneeze?”

Letting out a snort, you playfully hit his chest. “Anything for you, lover.”

A soft smile graces his face as he looks at you adoringly as the word takes on a whole new meaning… because you were right. He’d do anything.

A/N: whelp! i hope you all liked it :)) its not perfect but oh well? 

also i dont have a percy jackson taglist but i gotta tag the holy grail of fic writers for this fandon eep @cabinofimagines​   🙈 🙈

Divider credit: @biskit-rising​

[yongtxt]

hundred [johnny]

word count: 4.5k words

characters: boxer!johnny x doctor!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: blood/wound/stitches mentions, johnny hates hospitals but he likes the pretty doctor, [im not a doctor nor a boxer pls dont say that i have info wrong because I Know]

author’s note: i know this isnt long to some of u but to me it is and i havent written this much for so long im so proud of myself for finishing this:( it isnt that good but this is the first long fic ive written in a while and shhsdjk also i needed to get this out of my system ive thought about this au since that jcc came out where johnny and hyuck was doing muay thai plssss (i couldnt find a better gif tho) ok this is getting too long / feedback is appreciated tysm

Johnny Suh hated hospitals with a burning passion.

It wasn't from a past trauma nor was he afraid of it, it wasn't that serious. He wasn't exactly sure what the cause of it really was. If he had to make a guess, it was probably from the accumulation of the little things, the insignificant factors people would usually dismiss but bothered him enough that it contributed to the big hatred he built for hospitals.

Maybe it was the distinct smell of hospitals, it reeked of death and old people. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the fluorescent-lit hallways, always gloomy and heavy. Maybe it was also the fact that the fees were so expensive and yet the food they provide tasted horrible, even the coffee was a hit or miss. The only upside he could think of was people get better in hospitals, but even that wasn't assured.

Despite how much Johnny despised hospitals, he always finds himself coming back. If he wanted to get better, he had no choice but to go. He would endure the gruesome process over and over again whether it be to treat his wounds or to stitch his cuts.

With his jaw littered with small bruises and his lips busted at the corner, he sat impatiently on the hospital bed as he waited for his doctor. He was fiddling with his fingers, knuckles bruised the same way his face was. He looked beaten up, he always did.

The clothes he wore contradicted the state he was in, they were fresh and laid back. He looked like a college student from the way he dressed. A delinquent more like, if one considered his cuts and bruises. Before heading to the hospital, he always makes it a point to shower and make himself appear presentable to the public. Although no one really bothers to take notice of his effort, only him.

The sliding door opened and Johnny's attention shot up from his phone, his gaze meeting with yours. Your head popped in, peaking through the small crack you made. Your eyes lit up in recognition as it always did whenever you see him.

"Youngho-ssi?" You spoke almost as if it was a question, voice barely above a whisper to make sure you were in the correct room, about to tend the correct patient.

Johnny didn't understand why you always did that, call out his name as if this was the first time you were seeing him. At that point, you've been already acquainted with him enough due to his numerous trips to the hospital. Either way, he nods every time.

You gave him a small smile, widening the door enough so you could enter. You wore a white lab coat, a name tag pinned to your chest and a stethoscope hung around your neck. You were small, although anyone compared to him was bound to be comparatively smaller – that wasn't the point, you looked young and that never fails to astound him every time you go through the door.

You had a clipboard in your hands, scanning through what he assumed to be his condition that a nurse had written earlier after a quick checkup and disinfection of his open wound. Your lips were formed on a tight line, eyebrows furrowed. He continued to stare at you with such amusement.

"You don't have to answer my question, Youngho-ssi, but why are you always here?" You finally broke the silence, startling him in the slightest. You never bothered to ask before, always just offering smiles and small talks while you did your work; maybe his sudden regularity of coming to the hospital recently made your curiosity peaked.

He couldn't blame you. Anybody would be curious why a 24-year-old man keeps coming back to the hospital with no clear explanation.

He cleared his suddenly dry throat, he never liked saying his job. He said, "I box for a living."

"Ah, that makes sense!" Your eyes visibly glimmered, absentmindedly jotting down notes on his medical records. "My coworkers and I thought you were in a gang or something."

"I don't think I would be allowed to be here if I was." He chuckled, making you giggle as well.

"Seo Youngho, 24, minor lip laceration in need of immediate suture." You read of his data from the clipboard, almost comically. It was medical terms he was unfortunately already too familiar with, to him, it basically meant that he had a busted lip that needs to be sewed shut.

"You can just call me Johnny. Youngho sounds too formal to me." He said nonchalantly. You nodded your head to his simple request; it probably was best if you got to know him better since he frequented the hospital so much.

"Alright, Johnny. We'll start the process now, okay?"

With keen eyes, he watched you slip on a pair of surgical gloves. You grabbed a tissue from the metal tray that sat beside him and began folding it into squares. He felt his heartbeat quicken, he hated getting stitches or any form of medical treatments for that matter, but as morbid as it was, he thought of it as punishment for his recklessness in the ring.

"Isn't boxing just, I don't know, senseless violence?" You asked, tone dripping with pure innocence and unadulterated interest as you gently dabbed away the remaining dried blood the nurse failed to clean earlier.

"It's a sport, it's how I bring money to the table." He pursed his lips, ignoring the twinge of pain that surged through his nerves. He visibly relaxed when you placed a hand onto his shoulder to reassure him.

Ever since the first time you got assigned to him, the first thing he took note of was the softness of your hands. You handled him as if he was fragile glass, despite how he easily towered over you. He felt pathetic as a 24-year-old but your gentle touches would greatly help put him at ease.

"I guess. I didn't mean to be rude." You were hesitant, Johnny could tell but he was glad you didn't push on any further. He couldn't handle explaining his occupation when you were about to pierce his skin. "Okay, Johnny, now that your lip is clean and the anesthesia had seeped in, we'll start. I think you know how it goes by now."

"Make it quick, please." He nodded, squinting his eyes shut at the mere contact of a surgical pen grazing over his gaped lips. You were relieved that his cut wasn't too big, you couldn't stomach the idea of putting him in too much pain for longer.

As you picked up the tweezers and string of nylon, you couldn't help but laugh at the six-foot boxer in front of you who was clearly petrified of getting stitches, "This will be done as soon as you know it. You won't really feel it because of the anesthesia, remember? Now count to a hundred backward for me."

Once the numb feeling of nylon dragged through his lips, he swore he saw white spots flicker in his vision. His eyes immediately watered and he tried his best not to squirm under your hold, beginning to count to a hundred backward like you had instructed him to. You admitted it to him the first time you stitched him that it was a trick that you learned from your pediatrician friend. Despite it being for children, it helped to get him distracted while you focused on your job.

Minutes felt like hours, Johnny had been fighting the urge to punch something, anything, to release tension and nerves. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a peak and tried to take his attention away from what was currently happening on his lip. His gaze landed on your pretty eyes, how it was narrowed in focus and how your lashes perfectly framed it.

This wasn't the first time he'd observe you up close, there had been many occasions in the past that you had been too close for comfort in order to tend his wounds. It had been too many that it was almost as if he was close to memorizing your features. You were not only beautiful but you were also a smart and capable doctor.

Eventually, you finished and started to rub ointment on his sore lip — the finishing line.

"Try not to eat anything spicy or hard. You know the drill." You grinned at his suddenly pale features, ripping off your gloves as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the room. "You're good to go. Be careful next time."

He let out a shaky breath, clearly still winded up from the procedure, "I'll try. Thanks again, doc."

-

The punching bag felt great against Johnny's fists. There wasn't a feeling in the world that could compare to the impact of leather slamming against his skin. He could last hours mindlessly pummeling the bag if his stamina just allowed him to.

Hyunsik, Johnny's manager and personal trainer, drew away from the punching bag he held in between his arms. He let out a breath and held out a hand to motion that Johnny has done enough.

Johnny was hurting, Hyunsik could see that much. The bandages he had wrapped for the boxer's fingers were turning into a shade of red that they were all too familiar with.

Hyunsik clicked his tongue, "You should've used your gloves."

"How can I grow stronger if I keep relying on them?" Johnny rolled his eyes. His muscles needed a boost and this seemed to be the only logical way to strengthen them — a little blood never hurt anybody.

"Someday you're gonna fracture your hand and you'll be forced out of the ring. Remember that." Hyunsik huffed, his voice stern. "Take them off, I'll clean the blood off."

Johnny reluctantly did as told, unfurling the bandages wrapped around his fingers. The pain was excruciating when the fabric grazed along his tender skin, he winced at the unsightly view of his reopened wounds.

Hyunsik led him back outside of the ring to the benches where the first aid kit was. He made the boxer sit down so he could start cleaning off his wounds. It looked horrific, more so than it usually did and he had no choice but to break the news to Johnny.

"It looks really bad. You need to go get that checked in the hospital and have it sewed back." Hyunsik said, taking a wet towel and carefully dabbing it across Johnny's bloodied knuckles.

He didn't want to go to the hospital. Going to the hospital to have his wounds treated meant that Johnny would be medically required to take days off work to let his hand heal. Johnny frowned, "Don't you have an ointment or something that could help? I can't afford to lose a day of practice."

"Don't you think I know that?" Hyunsik rolled his eyes. "As your manager, I want you to be in top shape for your match next week, even if it means sacrificing a day or two for you to heal."

Johnny could only nod. He sat through Hyunsik's lecture on the changes he should make to his dietary plan and the exercises he should do during his temporary break. It infuriated him that he couldn't do anything about it but nod along.

The incoming match that was set next week would make or break his career as an underground boxer. He didn't have the option of missing it because of some measly reopened wounds. If he had to rest to get better, he had no choice but to suck it up. This was his fault anyway for pushing himself too much.

Johnny showered in the locker rooms and changed into nicer clothes that didn't reek of blood and sweat. His hands were stinging but he shook it off.

He ignored the concerned looks other boxers were giving him and begrudgingly made his way to the hospital to get himself checked in. You wouldn't be happy to see him all bloodied again, he thought.

-

Much to Johnny's surprise, it wasn't you who was assigned to him. It was a much older doctor with graying hair and a nose stuck too far up in the air. She was rude and condescending, her lack of politeness to her patients was quite appalling. If Johnny wasn't in such a bad mood, he might've complained already.

God, this day couldn't get any worse.

With a meek voice, Johnny asked where you were and at the mention of your name, his doctor gave him a narrowed look. She sneered, "She's handling much more important cases. Does she know you?"

"I think so." Johnny gulped, unsure of the answer himself.

The doctor's grip was tight and she was hasty. It was as if she was trying to speed through the process to just get it over with. Johnny wanted to cry because he was starting to get traumatized by this doctor's procedure, he didn't want to hate the hospital more than he already did.

He internally screamed for your name as he watched the doctor pull on the gloves. The sliding door harshly whipped open and there you were in all your glory, like an angel sent from above to save him from the devil incarnate who was about to pierce his skin.

You were panting and the sheen on your forehead made it obvious that you ran your way to his room. Johnny's heart leaped with glee.

"Unnie, I'll handle him." You said, unable to catch your breath as you made your way inside. "I think the ER needs you more than me."

The doctor seemed hesitant at first but you tried to convince her otherwise. She eventually agreed and left you with Johnny who had a cheesy smile on his face the entire time since you've arrived.

"So Johnny, what happened this time?" You asked, picking up the clipboard that sat next to him on the bed.

"I overdid the punching during training and it reopened some old wounds on my knuckles. It hurts like a bitch."

You pulled a face, "That's a bit intense."

He chuckled, "It's normal."

"Can I please see it?" You opened your palm so he could place his hand on yours. You observed his cuts and the scabs that were beginning to form around it, it was too deep to let it heal on its own so you made the verdict that he needed to get it sewed back together ⁠— as unfortunate as it was since he was a boxer and he needed his hands to box.

You tugged on a new pair of gloves and began the painful procedure, Johnny started counting down even without you instructing him to. You quickly got to work and stitched back his wounds with your lip in between your teeth

Johnny felt squeamish, he could never get used to the feeling of stitches. His eyes were glued shut and he mumbled numbers like it was mantra.

Once you were done, you smiled fondly at your work. You managed to get by with fewer stitches and you felt pride swell up in your chest. Johnny noticed and, as lightheaded as he was, couldn't help but smile as well.

"You're pretty good."

"At stitching?"

Johnny nodded with his cheeks flushed, he made a mental reminder to smack himself in the head later for such a crude comment. You probably thought he was an idiot now.

"I sure hope so." You chuckled, making him blush even deeper if that was even possible. "It's part of my job."

Johnny shook his head in embarrassment, his dark hair bouncing from how vigorously he did it. He mumbled, "That sounded really lame and not smooth, I'm sorry. Please forget I opened my mouth."

You could only chuckle as you apply the ointment around his knuckles. He wanted the ground to open up and just swallow him whole.

"Please let this heal completely, Johnny. Don't apply any strain on your injuries for a couple of days and refrain yourself from carrying anything heavy so that the stitches won't rip." You said, carefully placing down his hand back on his knee. You were gentle as ever, Johnny swooned. "Absolutely no punching for a while."

"I have an important match at the end of next week. Is there any way to speed up the healing process?" Johnny asked, his eyes were almost pleading at you and you blinked at him in surprise.

"Apart from what I just said, there's really nothing else you could do." You pursed your lips, watching his expression visibly deflate. "If you want to have even a sliver of a chance at winning your match, I suggest you do as I say. Your stitches won't take too long to heal, I promise."

If Hyunsik was there with him, he would've probably already scolded him but the point would be the same. He had always prioritized Johnny's health above winning.

"Okay, doc. I'll do my best." Johnny said, defeated.

"You know, I always see the aftermath of your matches and your training. I want to see you in the ring next time when you're not bloody and beaten up yet." You smiled at him and you swore that all the color that was previously drained from Johnny's face came rushing back. "If it's okay."

"Are you serious?" Johnny asked, almost dumbfounded. Did the pretty doctor he'd been crushing on for months really just asked if she could watch his match?

You nodded with the same hue of red now tainting your cheeks.

"O-Of course! It's on Saturday next week! Please come and cheer me on!" Like a little kid, he excitedly rambled on about the details about the upcoming match and you nodded with the same enthusiast as you wrapped bandages around his hands.

You weren't from his world so everything he said sounded foreign to you. The terms he said, the infamy of his opponents, the prominence of it all — you were eager to learn it if it meant seeing him this happy.

You've always known that he hated hospitals. It was clear from the way he acted during your first meeting. He was stiff and tense, the body language he exuded just screamed that he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. As he visited the hospital more and more, you noticed the hatred never faltered. He only became better at hiding it from you.

To see him so relaxed and carefree within the four walls he hated with all his being, it was a breath of fresh air and the feeling you had in your chest grew stronger.

"You're good to go. I promise to see you in your match." You were jotting some last-minute details on the clipboard and you missed the way Johnny kept grinning like an idiot. "As much as I love seeing you here, I hate that you keep getting yourself injured. Keep out of trouble for me, Johnny."

You left the room without letting Johnny say another word.

Fuck, Johnny realized he hadn't asked for your number.

-

Johnny's match started in ten minutes. His heart was pounding in his ears, he almost couldn't hear what Hyunsik was shouting to him.

The underground stadium was filled to the brim with people, he felt more nervous than he did during his first boxing match. A lot was at stake for this win, he needed the belt. He was desperate for it.

"Johnny, are you listening to me?" Hyunsik raised his voice, aggressively slapping Johnny's cheeks together in his hands so he could focus on him. The boxer's mind was fleeting and it was his job to pull him back to reality now.

He hadn't seen you since last week and as much as he wanted to go back to the hospital to see you, he refused to badly hurt himself in the days that led up to the match. Johnny scanned the crowd for your face but he couldn't see it. You weren't there.

At the lack of your turnout, he failed to mask his disappointment. Hyunsik let out an aggravated groan and pulled the boxer on his feet to berate him further.

"Johnny, please for the love of all things holy, look me in the eye."

"I'm sorry. I'm okay now. I'm listening."

"Good because your match is starting soon and I need you to win this. All your hardships and sacrifices boils down to this match, you hear me?" Hyunsik bellowed, trying his best to keep his voice louder than the cries and chants of the audience. "Show them what Johnny Suh is capable of!"

Johnny nodded fervently, forcing himself into a state of serenity of peacefulness. He let out heavy breaths to even out his breathing as his team surrounded him, prepping him for what was about to come.

Hyunsik raised his hand at Johnny. He had five minutes left until his match started and he wasn't calming down.

"Can I please have some water?" Johnny asked and his medic stumbled on his feet to fetch him a bottle from the nearby cooler. He couldn't help but let out a shaky chuckle, his team seemed tenser than he was.

He downed the bottle as soon as it reached his hand. His hand was shaky. Goddammit, why was he so nervous?

At the corner of his eye, he saw Hyunsik making his way over to the barricade that separated his corner to the rest of the stadium. He arched his neck in a way that would let him take a peek what was so important that Hyunsik had to leave his side when the match was starting in a few minutes.

It seemed like Hyunsik was trying to stop a girl who was forcing her way in through the barricade. His stomach lurched at the sight of her familiar face.

As if he was acting purely on instinct, Johnny shot up from his seat and ran towards you. Hyunsik held up his arm to stop him from going any closer to you. You could've been a deranged fan, for all Hyunsik knows.

"Johnny-"

"I know her."

Hyunsik was startled at his response and started to profusely apologize to you. You looked nothing but smug and Johnny let out a breathy laugh that helped unravel the knots in his stomach. The boxer quietly motioned for him to take his leave and Hyunsik hesitantly did as told only after tapping his wrist as a sign that time was ticking.

You bowed at him apologetically, "I'm so sorry I'm late! There was this damn patient-"

"It's okay. You're here now." He cut you off, a cheesy smile on his face. You easily reciprocated it back.

"I just came down here to wish you good luck." You said with the usual confidence in your tone gone and now replaced with a sudden timidness and bashfulness. "Not like you need it or anything."

"Where are you sitting?" Johnny asked, noticing that you were struggling to keep your attention on his eyes. He peered down and realized that he didn't have a shirt on, he chuckled.

You pointed near the walls of the stadium and he strained his vision to see so far away. He pursed his lips and let out a noise of discontent. You said that it was the only seats available because you were so late.

"Why don't you sit here with them? They wouldn't mind." Johnny said, jutting his thumb over to his team who was furtively watching his interaction.

"Oh no, it's okay."

"I insist. I want you to see me win up close."

You blushed a deep shade of scarlet and Johnny grinned at his successful attempt at a flirt. Was it even a flirt or was it an ego stroke? Either way, it didn't matter because you were smiling at him. You were easing his nerves and you didn't even know.

"I got out of my shift early so I wouldn't be in the hospital later to stitch you up." You teased, softly prodding his shoulder blade.

Johnny playfully puffed out his chest, "I don't plan on getting too injured today, I wanna look cool in front of you."

"Whatever you say, Johnny."

"But I'm nervous. I'm actually really nervous today." Johnny mumbled as if he didn't want anyone else in on your conversation, gone all traces of his cockiness as his heart thudded erratically against his chest when he heard Hyunsik's call of the last minute until he has to go inside the ring.

You gingerly reached for his taped hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Just count back from a hundred like I always tell you to. You'll do fine."

"Wait for me after the match, okay?" And so you did.

Counting down the numbers, Johnny clambered inside the ring and the bell rang to signal the start of the match. Being in the medical field meant that you were against all forms of violence so you couldn't really watch the entirety of the match without feeling sick to your stomach. Johnny didn't care, he was just happy that you kept your promise and was cheering him on.

It was hectic and everything was happening all at once. It was loud and everybody was screaming. This wasn't your world, it was Johnny's and your heart fluttered at the thought that he was willing to let you in it.

Eventually, the match ended in Johnny's favor and the next thing you knew, you were being hoisted up in the air. You had the biggest smile on your face, similar to Johnny's who now had a shiny belt slung over his shoulder. All his hard work and all his trips to the hospital paid off.

"Congrats on your win!" You exclaimed, placing your palms on his chest to steady yourself.

"I wanted you to see me get the belt." He admittedly sheepishly, reaching out to hold your wrists in his bruised hands.

"Aren't you hurt in any way? We can drop by the hospital if you want." You asked, checking to see if he had any major injuries but true to his word, Johnny was inflicted little to no injuries during the match, exclude the few bruises on his jaw and a busted lip

"Actually, I'd rather we get some coffee instead." Johnny said, the small smile on his lips making you chuckle.

"I'm sorry, I don't date my patients." You smirked at Johnny's crestfallen expression, softly shoving his side to make it known that you were only joking.

Johnny pulled a face, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding once he realized your joke. He played along, "I think you can make me an exception, I don't usually invite people to my matches."

"So this is about getting even, huh?" You were teasing him and now your faces were merely inches apart but before Johnny could even think of leaning in, you spun around and grabbed his hand once more. "C'mon then, my treat!"

Johnny let out a laugh. A boxer and a doctor, who would've thought?

[linkspooky]

I wonder what your thoughts are regarding Kamo Sr, especially regarding his goals compared to his host's and Gojo's

It’s kind of hard to give an opinion on Kamo Sr.’s actual character because he’s not established yet? There’s more we don’t know than we know about him. We know he spent 1,000 years making deals for the sake of the change of the world, we know he cares more about cursed energy than individual people, we know he’s absolutely ruthless in his methods of bringing about change, but also that change seems to be just a recreation of the heian era he once lived in, but we don’t really know why he does these things? Geto has both a goal, and an established motivation for those goals. So far we’ve only seen Kamo Sr. in terms of his goals, we know what he’s doing, but not why he’s doing it. 

However, since you asked specifically in pertains to his goals I can discuss what his goals are in the broad scheme of things. To understand his goal you have to compare it to Geto, Gojo, and also Yuki Tsukumo. 

1. The Kids Aren’t Alright

Geto and Gojo share the same primary goal, to protect young sorcerers so they never have to go through the same trauma that destroyed their youth. However, they have opposite ways of going about it. They both view sorcerery society as something that is corrupt and destroys individual lives, but they place the blame in different areas. 

Gojo blames it on the elders on top that hold power in their society. He believes if he can raise students as allies who are strong enough to replace them, then the new regime will replace the old and will get better.

Geto believes the problem lies in the uncaring masses. That a minority (in this case sorcerers) is being oppressed in order to protect a majority of peopel who don’t even know about their struggle.That the masses are blind to the fact that they create curses, and because of this sorcerers have to needlessly sacrifice their lives over and over again in an unchanging system. 

They’re both wrong. Like, Gojo is not trying to kill a bunch of people obviously but he’s only addressing half the problem. He believes if he raises children as political allies to replace the elders with a new, better regime things will improve politically and the previous generation will stop oppressing the new generation but he sort of misses out on the fact that he’s still using children as tools. 

But Gojo’s like, no they’re my tools, I’ll treat them well, because I’m the strongest when I send them into battle as long as they’re also strong they’ll be just fine. (Joke). 

What I mean to say is, basically what Gojo teaches his students is being stronger is what will fix your problems, when Gojo himself knows that doesn’t work. He says after losing Geto “Being strong isn’t enough to save people.” Gojo doesn’t know how to teach his students cooperativeness or getting along with others. He knows that’s what he’s missing but thinks the solution is in raising others to be strong as his, not like... teaching people to come together.

You can look at how the students fight in the Shibuya Arc as an example of this, all of Gojo’s students, run off on their own, try to be strong indivudally and fail. Yuji loses to Choso because he was fighting on their own, Megumi flips out and does a suicide attack, Nobara slips up in a fight against Mahito and gets her face blown off. They also didn’t really listen to other people, Nobara was told to stay back by an adult concerned for her well being because she would get hurt and she recklessly charged in. Megumi advised Yuji not to run off or be reckless, but Yuji did anyway and Sukuna rampaged. Gojo knows strength but he doesn’t know cooperativeness, and he doesn’t seem to understand how complex society’s various abuses can get, it’s not just a bunch of corrupt elders on top, it’s familial abuse, it’s corrupt clan politics, it’s disabled people like Kokichi not getting the help they needed and being used as tools. Gojo’s solution is just, if I raise these kids to be strong enough, then they wont’ be affected by the corruption of the world around them. 

Geto’s philosophy is more wrong (obviously), but he at least picks up on the fact of how wrong it is to be using sorcerers as disposable tools. Geto values cooperativeness, and the strength of the bonds between sorcerers. Geto loves empathy, he loves the connections between people and believse that’s what makes people stronger. He calls the people he’s helped his family. I mean, you can tell the difference between what Geto and Gojo value from the way they treat Megumi and Nanako + Mimiko. 

Geto raises them as his two daughters. Gojo shows up, offers his protection, gives them money, and then has them live mostly alone. Geto isn’t perfect either but he did offer himself as a substitute family. Also Geto doesn’t predicate his help to Nanako and Mimiko on the fact that they have to be allies to him growing up. Gojo offers his help to Megumi on the condition that, when you grow up you have to be a political ally to my side. I mean he ends up using his family as tools as well, but Geto even directly pulls them out of harm’s way and orders them to retreat, whereas Gojo sent his students as backup to the fight against Yuta and Geto on the premise that they would get hurt, and it would motivate Yuta to fight. 

They’re just different in the way they see people in treat people, Geto doesn’t want sorcerers to be used as tools, Gojo is like, what if I made sorcerers into stronger tools, hmmm.... then they wouldn’t get hurt. 

Something Gojo doesn’t seem to realize, because he views himself as a tool ultimately too. However, even if Geto were to accomplish his goal of eliminating everyone but sorcerers, young sorcerers would still continue to die because the sorcery world is still politically corrupt. 

Gojo idealizes indivudal strength and believes that if he raises people to be individually strong enough, they’ll replace the old regime with something better. (That’s wrong.) Geto idealizes sorcers as a whole community, and believes that if the problem of curses were removed from the world, that Sorcers as a superior species to humans would all be able to come together and make a more ideal world. (That’s also wrong.) 

Geto and Gojo both agree on the same idea, that sorcery society should be fixed so that the youth will not have to keep suffering the same mistakes as their predecessors, that no one will have to live the childhood that Geto and Gojo did, but they both have half complete methods for bringing about this fix. 

I spent so long on elaborating on that because I wanted to establish, Geto and Gojo, in their own way both care about young sorcerers and would fight the world in order to protect them. Yuki and Kamo Sr. both don’t care about individual people at all. They’re very much the world > people. 

2. Who Cares About Them Kids?

I think the fact that Yuki Tsukumo purposefully sat on her hands while people were fighting and dying, waited until the last possible moment to intervene, and then when Yuji was left in the aftermath didn’t really offer that much of a helping hand just sort of walked away shows that she’s not really that hung up on the suffering of individual people.

Both Yuki and Kamo are so focused on cursed energy, that they don’t really pay attention to individual people. They believe the way to change the world lies entirely in cursed energy, ignoring the plights of individual people. You know, even though the world is made up of people. 

Yuki’s not outwardly malicious, she’s just careless. The senseless loss of life in the Shibuya incident doesn’t really bother her the way it does people like Yuji, because that’s not where her focus is. It’s not like one of them is the good mad scientist and one of them is the bad one. It’s more like Yuki is lawful because she at least seems to abide by some rules, whereas Kamo Sr. is chaotic because, he purposefully promotes chaos as a way of finding the ideal answer, and also he willfully breaks all of society’s taboos. 

When she brings up Toji Zenin she’s not really interested in him as a person, she just thinks he’s a cool science experiment that he wants to study. I once thought Yuki Might have been manipulating Geto but, I was wrong on that front. I don’t think she’s the kind of person who would purposefully manipulate someone to that extent because of the way she views individual people, they’re just not interesting enough. What she’s interested in above all else is cursed energy. The fact that Geto eventually was corrupted didn’t even register to her, because she’s not focused on his individual well being. He’s one piece in a big game she is playing (this is just my guess of course we have nothing on her). 

So while opposite Kamo Sr., both Tsukumo and him sound eerily alike, because they both prioritize cursed energy over people. 

They have different methodology, but their ideals are the same. 

I think Tsukumo at least is an idealist in the grand scheme of things that she doesn’t want to introduce more unncessary suffering into the world to achieve her results, and also is worried about the consequences of her action on a large scale. 

But at the same time, like I said she’s not an ally of any one individual. She’s not on anybody’s side. She’s not really sympathetic to Yuji or his plight considering she just, wanders off, because her concern is with the world. 

Now to finally get into Kamo Sr.’s methodology, there’s an interesting paradox between his ideals and his method. He says he wants to bring out the potential of human beings, but we’ve estalbished again and again Kamo doesn’t actually care about the welfare of individual human beings.

I thik it’s imporant to show the way he treated Choso and his family. He dismissed Choso and his brothers as failures, before they were even born, and then abadnoned him. 

Then he diagnoses the fact that they were wrong because they were a failed creation. That’s like, objectively wrong here. Choso and the others never reached their potential, because he didn’t stick around to see their potential. I think the reason they failed is because you abandoned them about five seconds after they created. 

Kamo Sr. wants to experiment with people to force them to grow and reach their full potential, but he also doesn’t really care about what happens to them. He wants to see individual potential, but ignores individuals and looks away from them. See, his methods are at odds with his ideals.

Kamo Sr. also tries to introduce chaos in order to witness that potential, but he like... at the same time is a complete control freak. These ideas conflict each other. He wants to witness chaos to see what will happen, but he always has to be in control. He has to be the one to have a hand in the creation for chaos. His idea of making chaos is, spending 1,000 years making binding vows that he controls, and he releases. A binding vow is represented by chains, that’s like, the opposite of freedom.

Not only that but his directly stated world he wants to create, is a contradiction. He wants to create a new world, because he believes the safety of the modern age has caused sorcery to stagnate as a whole. Which is why he prefers the chaotic heian era, because the danger and constant fighting pushed sorcers to their peak, the so-called golden age of sorcery. 

However, his idea for creating a new world comes from... an over idealization of the past, and a desire to hold onto the old ways. His ideals might be to create something new, but his methods are just, the same old thing. Traditionalism. The past was better. Things should be like they were in the past. 

This all leads to the fact that Kamo Sr. isn’t actually creating a new world, not really, he’s hitting a reset button on the world and undoing 1,000 years of progress because he thought the Heian era was better. 

Kamo Sr. claims to be something else, but he’s actually no different than the elders who currently hold power in the Sorcery World. He’s sacrificing the young people,  out of some idealization of the past and a desire to return to how things used to be, when things in the past were never really that good. He says he’s for change, but his actions are actively resisting change by trying to push the world back 1,000 years, because the chaotic heian era was just so much better with its lack of universal medical care, and indoor plumbing. 

[bard-llama]

Hello again! May I request Rorveth for the ship game again? Maybe prerelationship 2, General 1, 5, Love 2, Domestic 9? Have a good day

Always! Rorveth owns my heart and I can always talk about them lol.

Pre-Relationship #2: What was their first impression of each other?

Hmm. I mean, there was definitely some hate, lbr. But I think there was also a lot of admiration? Well, I guess it depends on what we count as first impression. When they first learn of each other or when they first meet?

Because Roche found Iorveth long before Iorveth knew he existed. Roche had a crush worked intelligence, analyzing data and putting together who their targets in the Scoia'tael were. So I think he and Thaler and other intel folks would have come up with code names for each unit commander that they knew of (probably something lame too), but as we see in the game - the Scoia'tael are PROUD of their commander. They cheer Iorveth's name as they go into battle. It would not take many confrontations to start to put names to positions. So Roche's first impression of Iorveth would be one of someone recognizing a skilled opponent. But it would also be heavily countered by the details of what exactly Iorveth is using those skills for. Because they probably have an office somewhere in the Temerian royal palace that's full of pictures stuck to bulletin boards and string connecting them lol. So he'd have front and center in his mind exactly how brutal Iorveth can be.

So when they meet, I think Roche expects to appreciate Iorveth's ability, but hate him as a person. But then Iorveth introduces himself playing the fucking recorder flute!? Like, that had maybe been shared in intel, but it was the kind of meaningless detail that Roche had never really paid attention to. Which was a mistake, as it turns out, because Iorveth is every bit as much a musician as he is a soldier. But Roche only learns that later.

On Iorveth's side... well, he'd first hear of Roche when Roche and the Stripes, on their first day, slaughtered an entire unit of Scoia'tael. So I think Iorveth's first impression would be fury and hate, but also, as time goes on and it turns out that wasn't just a fluke, he'd come to respect Roche as an enemy commander. Then they meet and Roche is so full of hate for killing his king and Iorveth wasn't expecting that to hurt, but it really actually does. And he tries to shove it down and ignore it, but the feeling lingers long enough that he ends up seeking Roche out post-W2.

General #1: Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

Following the thread above... I think Iorveth did, but semi on accident. So he goes searching for Roche after Saskia has established Vergen and doesn't need him quite so much and this longing just won't stop nagging him. So he seeks Roche out and basically manages to say something along the lines of "I can't stop thinking about you and I'm going to make it your problem". Then he proceeds to follow Roche around and criticize his attempts at guerilla warfare as the Temerian partisans kicked off. Roche finds this absolutely baffling, but like, Iorveth is more experienced with this sort of thing, so why not take his advice? After arguing about it extensively, of course. Ves thinks this is all a Scoia'tael trap and keeps a very close eye on Iorveth. So close, in fact, that she notices the way that Iorveth looks at Roche over the campfire in the evenings. And once she notices that, suddenly the signs that Iorveth adores her Boss are everywhere. And she doesn't really know what to think about that or whether to tell Roche.

Not sure what she decides, but she definitely threatens Iorveth. And actually, I could see that being the first step in them coming to like, actually respect one another beyond "wow, you can kill a guy pretty efficiently". Like, maybe Iorveth begs asks as nicely as he can that Ves not tell Roche, because he's certain that it would only ruin things. And yeah, the longing is still there, but it's not so bad now that he has Roche in his life at all. He is grateful for as much of Roche as he can get.

i think Ves would be perfectly fine with that at first, but as she grows to appreciate Iorveth more as a person, she starts to feel bad. Because like, he very clearly loves Roche. And yeah, he probably has complicated feelings about loving a human, but like...he so clearly does and it's kind of pathetic but in a way that tugs at her heart and she HATES feeling sympathy for an elf, but...

I don't think she tells Roche directly. But she basically tells him that Iorveth is always staring at him and he should ask why. (Roche: because we're enemies, duh??? He's watching to see if I make a move to shank him, isn't he?)

General #5: What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Oh man, okay, this one is fun to play with. So, Roche is shorter than everyone most people and he is resentful about it. That whole thing about shorter people being closer to hell? Yeah, he is that 100%.

Iorveth, of course, enjoys very much that he is taller and will 100% grab Roche's paperwork or something and hold it out of reach just to enjoy Roche attempting to climb him to annoy Roche.

For age difference, I hc Roche as late 40s and Iorveth as around 1300, so it's a pretty big difference lol. I go back and forth on what elves think of such age differences, 'cause like... 40 is the age of majority for elves, so I could see them pointing at tired and wrinkled Roche and going, "that is a baby!"

But also, realistically, if they live so long (which they don't in canon, oops), i think they'd be a little more blase about age differences, as long as they're over the age of majority for their culture. Especially considering that they lost basically an entire generation of elves with Ailerinn's failed uprising + other pogroms like the cleansing of Loc Muinne, so like, the only elves left are either really old (pre-Conjunction) or really pretty young (200-300yo max, I think). So even if they don't already not care that much about age differences, I think they'd have to learn to, because there's not a lotta other options left.

(Not to derail, but Isengrim being torn up over being so much older than Eldain could be really, really fun, so I might ignore this lmao)

Love #2: What are their primary love languages?

Ooooh, Roche's is definitely touch! Just soft, casual touches, like a hand on the back or the shoulder, or just brushing their arms against each other or knocking their shoulders together to show that he's here. I think his receiving language might be more words of affirmation than touch, though. But that could be due to trauma/the fact that everyone in court does one thing and says another. So like, Foltest will clap him on the shoulder and then also go send him to torture someone. But then he'll also say 'good job' when Roche gets the intel they needed. So he has... kind of a fucked up relationship with both ideas, honestly.

Okay, I couldn't remember all 5 love languages, so I looked them up and fuck, Roche is very much acts of service, too. But in a self-sacrificing way.

Iorveth... hmm. I could see maybe receiving gifts just because it was such a rare and exciting thing when he was young. But along the same veins, I think quality time would mean a lot to him, because his family never made time for him. He always felt like he was in the way/bothering them while they're busy and hasn't fully yet come to understand that they should have made the time for him. So when Roche does things like call off work for the day to do something with Iorveth? Iorveth absolutely melts. I don't think he previously understood that time together could be precious, not because it's limited, but because it is special.

Domestic #9: Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Iorveth is a night owl. And very much NOT a morning person. Roche is also not a morning person, but he doesn't even get the exchange of being a night person, he's just eternally Tired. So I think Roche tries to encourage Iorveth to come to bed during the night, but is rarely successful, because Iorveth feels inspired. Fortuntely, Roche has ear plugs/enjoys music when he sleeps.

But when one of them gets really fixated on their work and loses track of the time? It's almost always Roche obsessing over some ig or small problem, and Iorveth will try to get him to come to bed, but usually he has to resort to physically sitting in Roche's lap/getting between Roche and the fixation. But once he's gotten Roche distracted, he can get some nice cuddles and/or sex out of it and Roche falls asleep afterwards.

But when they wake up in the morning and need to get up and go to work? It's always Iorveth who tries to persuade Roche that if he can't get 30 mins more sleep, then he could at least offer some morning sex.