#You could probably make all these characters The End if you wanted to | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hiraethwrote · 2 days

Text

❝ YOU KNOW HOW TO BALL, I KNOW ARISTOTLE ❞

insp: so high school - taylor swift

✧ summary: when having your friends over one night, they take an interest in your past as a the popular cheerleader in high school. then how the hell did the school's biggest loner end up with you? ✧ cw: loner!megumi (basically canon megumi ig), f!reader, popular!reader, sorority!reader, college au, non-sorcerer au, all characters aged up (18/19 in flashbacks, 20 and up in present scenarios), pure fluff, like tooth rotting fluff, teasing, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 6.5k

How the biggest loner in school had ended up with the most popular girl, who could have literally anyone she wanted, always had people quirk a questioning eyebrow.

Megumi’s friends were no different.

“You’ve never mentioned you were a cheerleader!” Nobara said in awe as her eyes travelled the printed pictures you’d hung up on the wall of your room, tokens of past memories.

Pictures of you with your family and some of you hanging out with friends, doing all sorts of shenanigans. Some photos from rowdy parties you’d never show your parents, certain they would crucify you if they knew what you were up to at that age.

Then there were the once Nobara had taken a liking to; you as a cheerleader. Some from baseball games where you cheered from the sidelines with your squad. Some of you placed on the top of a pyramid, sporting that toothy, rehearsed grin all cheerleaders had perfected. But the one Nobara had pointed out in particular, was one where you were simply posing alone, pom-poms raised in the air. That one was also Megumi’s favourite. He’d been the one to snap the photo, and he never passed up the opportunity to say how cute he thought you looked in the uniform.

“Head cheerleader, actually,” you smiled proudly as you fell onto the couch beside your boyfriend.

“So you were popular?”

A lighthearted chuckle escaped you at the innocent question. “Guess you could say that-“

“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT!” You were abruptly interrupted when a different picture had captured her attention. Turning to look at her, you saw her finger was pointing out what just so happened to be your favourite photo.

Right in the centre of your wall, was one starring Megumi. It was from the last baseball game you ever cheered for, where you had only officially been a couple for about a month. You had begged and begged for him to pose with you for just one photo. With hesitation imprinted on his entire demeanor, he had kept trying to convince you he was more comfortable behind the camera — but you had demanded, resulting in your favourite picture to ever exist. Standing on your tip toes to place a tender kiss on his blushing cheek, your hand was resting on his chest, while he had a secure hand placed on your waist and a shy smile painting his pretty face.

“Is that really you, Fushiguro?” She exclaimed in surprise, leaning in closer to get a better look, like she had to make sure it was actually Megumi you were kissing.

“That’s me,” he sighed.

“When did the two of you get together?”

“Senior year,” you chimed in unison. When Nobara turned towards you and Megumi again, her eyes flickered between you. It was an action that slowly wiped away the little joy you’d felt at her excitement of your past, now that you had a slight idea where this conversation might be headed.

“Were the two of you even in the same crowd?” Yuji interjected from the other side of the small coffee table, seated comfortably in the beanbag you’d furnished your room with. Your eyes followed a restless Nobara take a seat beside him on the floor, legs tucked under her as she propped her elbows on the table to rest her head in her hands.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted Megumi ogling you with a tiny, self satisfied smirk. “No, absolutely not,” he confirmed.

“So how did that happen?” The pink haired boy nearly scoffed, which should probably have offended Megumi.

At his side, he noticed how you had started to grow antsy at their piercing eyes interrogating you. Like second nature, he moved his hand from the couch to place it on your shoulder in order to try and settle some of your squirming, despite taking some pleasure in seeing you like this, precisely because it happened so rarely.

As it had been pointed out, you’d been popular back in high school. Immensely so, which had been somewhat of a blessing as it had provided you with a sturdy foundation for some confidence that had followed you as you got older.

But right now, it had begun to waver.

“I mean, how’d you manage that?”

“I didn’t.” It was such a simple statement, but it was absolutely dripping with smugness, practically hearing the smirk in his words.

All you heard from Nobara was constant bewildered stuttering, having you shrink further into yourself. “Man, come on,” Yuji continued with a chuckle. “We know what you were like in high school. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed.” Both of your friends were taken aback by the uncharacteristic humour in his voice. To you, the cheeky twang to his tone wasn’t unusual, he just preferred to keep it hidden within the privacy of your relationship — except for when this became the topic of conversation.

“You don’t mean to tell me your loner ass pulled her, just like that?” Nobara finally found her voice again to say.

“Not at all what I’m saying.” The two friends looked at each other, mirroring the same expression of slight confusion.

“Stop with the cryptic statements and just tell us already!” Yuji burst out. Megumi turned his full attention to you now, which had both Nobara and Yuji snap their heads in your direction as well.

Your gaze quickly flittered between the three, never daring to let it land anywhere permanent. “What?” You asked with feigned innocence, causing your boyfriend to not be able to withhold an eye roll.

“She pulled me.”

The room turned silent, and only the ambiance of the house filled the void — the chatter of your sorority sisters downstairs, the gushing wind from the small fan in the corner of your room and the ticking of the clock mounted above your desk.

Then came the laughter.

Unruly, uncontrollable and genuine laughter from them both. Yuji even dried a single tear. But it awkwardly died down when they noticed neither you nor Megumi were joining in on their fun. You’d turned completely red, grumpily knitted your arms across your chest while Megumi still had that god awful smirk.

“Wait- you’re not joking?” Nobara spoke softly while some chuckles still escaped her.

“No,” you sighed deeply. “He’s not kidding.”

Now, you were in no shape or form ashamed over being with Megumi, and he was well aware of that. Some part of him even wished you were more ashamed of him, because you often got unabashedly vocal in your pure admiration for your boyfriend any time the opportunity arose. He never made much of a number of himself, so it was just not used to the fact that you did.

Nonetheless, every time it came up that ‘you’d pulled him’, your defining confidence took a hit — but it had more to do with you than it did Megumi.

Some would probably judge you if they knew you took a weird sense of pride in your past as the stereotypical popular cheerleader, but you had genuinely enjoyed your time in high school because of it. And for some reason, when they learned you were the one who had pursued Megumi, you felt like some of the respect you’d attained, simply disappeared.

All the hard work you’d put in to give off the impression you wanted to waste, and why? Because Megumi was quiet? Absolutely ridiculous.

That was just another factor that provoked your anger — the insinuation that you were out of Megumi’s league. You’d never thought along those lines, so it bothered you beyond belief when others hinted at it, because truthfully it wasn’t anything but rude.

Megumi, however, thought it laughable. He even found himself agreeing with his friends. If he were to take a look at you as a couple like a fly in the wall, he too would think ‘how the hell did he pull that off’.

For as long as he could remember, he’d observed all sorts of guys line up before you in an attempt to be with you. You definitely didn’t have a shortage of possible suitors, so every now and then when he came to actually think about the fact, he still became baffled that it was him you were dating.

So witnessing you get all worked up on his behalf was nothing short of adorable.

“I even turned her down at first,” he continued, reactively making you swat his leg weakly, lips pursed together in annoyance. It did nothing to stifle his amusement, only finding your tiny hissyfit comical.

“There’s no way!” Yuji huffed in pure disbelief. “You gotta tell us!”

You let out a deep sigh, and took on the responsibility to reveal the history of you and Megumi.

The two of you had lived separate lives for the most of high school, and even if you now hated to admit it, Megumi never really caught your eye at all. He sort of just blended in with the environment, keeping mostly to himself — until one day.

You were running late for practice, hurriedly tying your hair up in a tight ponytail as you turned the corner and crashed right into a broad chest. His firm hands had instantly grabbed your arms to keep from knocking you over.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I’m in a rush and I didn’t see where I was going-“ you began to ramble, but when you looked up to see who you’d been so unfortunate to walk into, you quickly forgot how to speak. You were staring into the most soulful, dark eyes you’d ever seen.

“‘S okay,” he mumbled, his raspy voice sending a small shiver down your spine. There was nothing in his tone that you were able to read, unsure if he was pissed or not. When his hands had left your arms, you released a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, keeping your eyes glued on him as he simply walked past you without another word.

Throughout the day, you could not for the life of you shake away the thought of this guy. His deep eyes that had seemed to hold so much knowledge, how assertively he had grabbed you to keep you from falling. Now that you finally knew he existed, he kept catching your eye all about the school grounds and you’d wondered how this handsome and mysterious guy had just slipped you by all these years.

“Hey,” you shyly leaned closer to your friend to whisper in her ear. “Do you know him?” She quickly followed your gaze, narrowing her eyebrows when she saw who you were staring at.

“Who? Fushiguro?”

“As in Tsumiki Fushiguro?”

“Yeah, he’s her little brother.”

“Didn’t know she had a brother,” you whispered mostly to yourself. “So he is a senior?”

She shrugged, seeming like she was interested in changing the topic of conversation. “Technically. Think he got held back a year because he was absent a lot when she got sick.”

“Makes sense.”

Your eyes lingered on the black haired boy sitting all the way at the other side of the cafeteria, all by himself, nose deep in some book. “You’re kidding, right?” Your friend chuckled, capturing your attention again.

“What?” You batted your eyelashes at her, putting on the most virtuous front you could muster.

“I’ve seen that look before! You can not look at Megumi Fushiguro with those eyes!” Brushing off her judgement with a roll of the eyes, you turned your attention back to see he was still solely focused on his book.

The next few days you kept observing him around school, almost always on his own. He walked from one class to another, backback slung over one shoulder and hands in his pockets. You just got more and more intrigued, seeing as no one you knew could tell you anything useful about him except that he had zero friends due to having somewhat of a bad reputation in middle school.

One day, while you had cheerleading practice, you’d seen him walk by the court and the spirit to approach him just came over you. You wanted to get to know him, see who this guy no one seemed to know, was. Your friends desperately called your name to stop you from walking over to him, but you were already jogging in his direction.

“Hey!” You shouted at him, his head turning towards you right away, a very visible frown painting his eyebrows. “Megumi, right?” You smiled sweetly, subconsciously swinging your hips slightly, your short cheerleading skirt twisting gracefully as you did.

“Yeah,” he sighed, shoulders slumping. You quickly introduced yourself by name, but getting no reaction from him what so ever, jammed a small splinter into your confidence.

“I was just wondering if you’d want to go out sometime?” You cutely bit your bottom lip, gazing sweetly at him through your eyelashes.

“No thanks.”

“Uh- I’m sorry?” Your expression had fallen at his unexpected response.

“‘M not interested.” There was no sarcasm or taunting in his voice, which only made his blunt rejection worse. Couldn’t he at least have done you the honour of a small scoff?

“Oh. Okay…” You whispered a small bye before awkwardly turning back around to rejoin the practice, utterly confused about the whole interaction.

What you didn’t have the satisfaction of witnessing, was the fact that Megumi’s face had heated up in a way he had never experienced before.

He was absolutely mortified with embarrassment at your stunt, daringly turning his head to look at you as you’d joined your friends again to see if they were all laughing as he had expected. Because it was a prank, right? Your friends had set you up to ask him out so he’d make a fool of himself in front of the most popular girl in school — the girl who’d never noticed him until today.

But he never even saw as much as a forced smile. You looked genuinely upset while your friends just seemed absolutely befuddled with a sympathetic glimpse in their eyes. Could it really have been a serious request you’d given him? There was no way.

Two weeks passed, and despite having experienced your first ever rejection, Megumi still served as an itch you just couldn’t reach. You didn’t know what it was about him that had managed to captivate you so deeply, but you kept thinking about him. Maybe it was just the fact that he’d so quickly turned you down so your ego was bruised, but nevertheless, he was on your mind.

Your eyes kept being drawn to him, like he had some magnetic pull on you that you couldn’t resist. What was worse, was it seemed he now had become aware of your longing glares. More often than not, you ended up wringing your head back to your friends at the speed of light when he suddenly caught you looking.

“You gotta stop with the sad doe eyes at Fushiguro!” Your friend had interrupted through gritted teeth at one occasion you’d yet again been staring. “It’s kinda humiliating.”

“Can’t help it,” was all you’d whispered before trying to shift your focus back to the class — where you were just handed a failed English test, which was disastrous considering university was just around the corner.

“Maybe you should ask Fushiguro to tutor you,” your friend teased as she spotted your failing grade, nothing but pure mockery in her voice.

“Why would I do that?”

She only gave you a dumb look, surprised you hadn’t learned that Megumi was actually at the top of the class in English by a long shot, considering you’d been making eyes at him for two weeks straight.

Your eyes widened, the lightbulb appearing above your head in an instant. “No- no I was joking!” Your friend argued, but you’d already made up your mind.

And first thing after class, you went scouting for Megumi during lunch, to find him, to no surprise to anyone, sitting alone in the same spot he usually occupied.

“Hi,” you said shyly, only faded traces of your famous confidence present. He looked up at the sound of your voice, removing his headphones. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to ask you out again,” you tried to joke but there was yet again, no reaction.

“Can I help you or…” he trailed of, tone in the exact same pitch as the last time you had talked to him, sending that same shiver down your spine.

“Yeah, actually. A little birdie told me you’re like an English genius, while I’m not.” Still not the tiniest movement in his face to tell you how this was going. “I’m failing horribly, and this is my last chance to save my grade before we graduate. So I was wondering if you’d be able to tutor me?”

“Uhm-“ he was nearly too stunned to speak as he had not expected that. He tilted his head to the side so he could peek at your friends, again trying to see if there were any mischievous intents. But truthfully, they looked as shocked as he did at the fact that you’d approached him.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! I’m prepared for the no this time.” He felt the hair on his neck raise as an awkward, but still pretty, smile decorated the line of your lips.

“Sure,” he hesitated to accept, watching as the relief washed over you and you became visibly lighter.

“Really?” He subtly swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and nodded weakly. The lump came back just as quickly as he’d gotten rid of it when you flashed him a gorgeous grin that crinkled the corner of your eyes. “Alright. I’ll get back to you then.” And so you strutted away with a spring in your step back to your friends.

And not this time either did you catch the sprinkle of dusted pink across his cheeks.

It started slow at first, only an hour every week in the school library. You tried your very best to shove the memory of his rejection to the back of your mind. Because even though you managed to keep up the confident front, you were still haunted by the scene where you made a complete fool out of yourself. But for each meeting, your shoulders did eventually relax more and more, until you were able to act somewhat normal despite still finding him incredibly intriguing.

Megumi’s, however, got tenser every time he had to sit opposite you and watch how your lips subconsciously tightened in a tiny purse when you concentrated, or how you took your pen between your teeth when you crossed the line of being too exhausted to study anymore.

Nevertheless, you soon fell into a steady schedule — until you had to break it.

Megumi’s heart started racing the second your name had lit up his phone screen thirty minutes before you were supposed to meet him in the library. You’d never called him before, having kept to texting about your meet-ups.

“Hi!” You stressed into the phone, shuffling in the background. “I’m so sorry to do this on such short notice, but I suddenly have a last minute cheer practice I have to go to.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. No problem.” What neither of you knew, was that you were both disappointed. It had gone completely unsaid by the both of you, but at some point you had started looking forward to the tutoring hours for reasons not due to the curriculum.

“I mean, we could-“ you cut yourself off, biting your nail in an attempt to smother your nerves as you considered the suggestion that rested on your tongue. You were completely terrified he’d reject you again if he saw it as another sorry attempt of hitting on him.

“Yeah?” He asked curiously in a perkier tone than you’d ever heard from him before.

“I’m quite hopeless in English still, so it would be a shame to miss a meeting.” You were glad he couldn’t see you, because you were pinching your eyes shut in utter embarrassment at your lame excuse. “So if you’re down we could meet at my place after practice?” There was silence for a second, you began to wonder if he’d hung up. “Megumi?”

“I’m here, sorry,” he said weakly before clearing his throat. “I don’t see why not.”

“Great!” He heard how some of your confidence had returned as the usual chipper lilt to your voice had come back.

Through the entire practice, you were more restless than usual, which your friends quickly picked up on as you could not for the life of you stop ruffling your pom-poms together. It felt like the two hours out on that field couldn’t possibly last any longer, rushing home as soon as your coach dismissed you.

And what surprised you even more was how Megumi was already sat on the front steps of your house waiting by the time you got home. “Hi,” you breathed softly, a small smile on your lips as you pulled the ponytail out of your hair.

He only managed to tighten his lips in a thin line that could resemble a small smile if you squinted, because he was genuinely mesmerised by the sight of you. Your face was slightly tainted red by exhaustion, the uniform still on with the sports bag across your body. And once you let your hair down, it framed your face perfectly.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long.” Fidgeting with your keys as you walked passed him, he was stunned at how at peace you suddenly seemed. Maybe it was the fact that you were tired from practice, or the fact that you were suddenly on safer grounds now that you were home — either way it was a delightful shift he noticed in you.

“Only like five minutes.” You flashed him another smile as he followed you into the house, which looked pretty much exactly how he’d pictured it. Nice furniture, perfectly tidy, typical suburban home you’d expect the head cheerleader to live in.

“Is it okay I just take a quick shower before we get started?”

“Of course,” he nodded as you’d lead him into your bedroom.

“I’ll be real quick.” With yet another sweet smile, you left him alone in your room and he felt incredibly out of place. He awkwardly sat down at your desk as he let his eyes travel the room. The frown that so naturally came to his face, simply softened as he saw the small momentous of your life, getting an insight in who you were beyond the cheer uniform — how he knew you.

There was a bookshelf in the corner of your room, but not filled with as many books as one would expect. The two bottom shelves were filled with different titles, a mixture of textbooks and literature, none of which he recognised. But the rest of the shelf was scattered with all sorts of trinkets, trophies and framed photos. Without much thought, he’d gotten up from the chair to get a better look.

“Anything catch your eye?” He flinched at the sudden sound of your voice. Turning around to face you, his eyes betrayed him as he let them travel your body for a quick second. You were wearing grey sweatpants, a simple black tank top and your hair was simply pulled back by a hairband. If you even noticed him looking, you were doing him the favour of not mentioning it.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” he awkwardly stumbled over his words.

“Oh, no no, it’s all good. It’s on display after all,” you said as you walked over to stand beside him.

“It’s cute.” He didn’t know what had come over him, but he felt there was just the tiniest glimmer of boldness in him. Maybe it was the unexpected comfortable atmosphere you simply provided by being so casual, or the fact that the two of you might be considered friends. Which was definitely unfamiliar territory for him, but he liked the idea of it.

“Yeah?” You asked curiously, a surprised raised eyebrow as you turned to look up at him.

He smothered the tiny fear he often got whenever he had to look at you and faced you, softening at the image of your person. God, how he regretted turning you down that day by the court. And now it was too late. You had now probably come to the realisation that he was just as aloof and awkward as he appeared to be and now you simply wanted to stick to being tutored.

“Yeah, all these memories put into material stuff for you to just gaze upon and just reminisce. It’s nice,” he shrugged, trying his best to seem calm and nonchalant.

“How poetic,” you teased as you nudged him with your elbow. “Fits the mysterious persona.” He wanted to say something, something silly to fire back at you so he could make you giggle. And despite being clever with words and language, you truly had the influence to kill that part of him. Where he lacked in basic small talk, he was grateful you were smooth enough to just turn the focus to your desk. “Maybe we should get started.”

It didn’t take more than twenty minutes for the pen to be placed between your teeth, as he had learned was a sign there was little point in continuing today’s session. He tried to proactively fight the disappointment that would take ahold of him when you were to send him home soon, but it never came. On the contrary, you hit him with an unexpected question. “You hungry?”

He just blinked at you a couple of times before nodding slowly. “I could definitely eat.”

“How about we order pizza? My treat, like a thanks for helping me out. Or you can consider it payment,” you chuckled as you reached for your phone to order.

“Pizza sounds nice,” he said with a small smile, which caught your attention, immediately having to swallow away the nerves that built up at the frame. He so rarely let his lips curve upwards, so whenever it did happen, your heart decided to skip the smallest beat.

Averting your gaze and clearing your throat to speak again, thanking all the mightier powers that you managed to keep your voice steady. “Pepperoni alright with you?” He simply nodded before relaxing back in the chair.

You were the perfect hostess, making him feel a little stupid as he just sat by your desk while you ran around fixing everything. You brought plates, drinks, napkins. Oh, and pillows, because you usually shared pizza with your girlfriends while sat on the floor, and sooner rather than later the pizza arrived.

“Bon appetite,” you breathed happily as you put it down on the floor as you sat down on the pillow opposite him. “So, what is it you’re reading all the time?”

The question caught him off guard. As long as this arrangement had been going on, you hadn’t really made an attempt in trying to talk about anything other than school. It was mostly just a tiny comment here and there that he simply let drift by.

“Sorry?” Was all he managed to muster out as he served himself a slice.

“I always see you reading something. What is it you read?” His eyes roamed your face, so surprised by the genuine interest in getting to know him.

“All sorts of stuff, I guess,” he shrugged.

“So what’s your favourite then?”

“Aristotle.”

“Aristotle?” You asked simply. He nodded. “Like the philosopher?” He nodded again, giving you a charmed smile.

“So what’s it about his stuff that you like?”

“I suppose his take on ethics is what interests me the most.”

You nodded slowly as swallowed. “Tell me about it!”

He was a little dazed at all the questions, because he’d never really found himself in a situation like this before. No one had really made the effort to try and get to know him like this.

And so he did as he was told, explaining Aristotle to you. He felt extremely pretentious where he sat on your floor, carefully explaining the ins and outs of one of history’s greatest philosophers. But you listened so intently, following every word he said.

What surprised him the most was how silence never seemed to overcome you, which was usually what happened to him. That was all thanks to you, of course, as you kept on asking him rather leading questions so he would have no trouble keeping the conversation going.

Despite you taking lead in the conversation, you both managed to keep the conversation flowing nicely. So nicely, neither of you realised how late it had gotten until you looked out the window to see it was completely dark.

“I should probably head home.” His tone had done a 180 from when he first arrived, revealing a side of him no one at school had seen at least.

You nodded shyly, hiding the fact that you where upset the evening had to end. “I’ll follow you out.”

Opening the door, your eyes never left his face until he faced you to meet his dark eyes again. But they had changed — though just as deep as always, they weren’t cold anymore. They now spoke with a newfound tenderness.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He didn’t mean for it to come out like a pathetic question, like he desperately wanted — needed — you to come talk to him. Luckily for him you only flashed your teeth in a kind smile.

“See you tomorrow.” A teensy, childlike smile grew on his lips as an instinctive reaction to your words. Before he managed to turn on his heel and leave, your arms snaked around his neck with glee and pulled him in for a hug.

His breath hitched in his throat and his limbs froze at his side at the sudden gesture. “I had a nice time tonight,” you muffled, making him shudder at the feeling of your warm breath against his ear.

He knew he’d regret it if he didn’t seize this opportunity. Letting your voice be what grounded him in reality again, he laced his arms around your waist to return the embrace.

“Yeah, me too.”

After that, things just escalated. You still hung out with your friends for the most part, but you tagged along with Megumi in between classes. It was a pleasant surprise when you would called out his name down the hallway, jogging to catch up with him.

You were radiating. Genuinely glowing with a sense of contentment. What he didn’t know was that it was solely because of him. Ever since you’d hugged him goodbye that night, you’d been shaking with anticipation to see him again.

For a few minutes every day, he felt like he had you all to himself before returning back to your own life in school. And even then, you still sent him calming smiles that reassured the worries he had that he was imagining things and you’d just forget about him the next day.

“What is going on?” One of the batters from the baseball team had asked you one time, as he had come up to walk beside you just as you’d left Megumi to sit with your friends for lunch.

“What d’you mean?” You asked innocently as you placed your tray on the table before sitting down.

“With you and Fushiguro?” His voice was absolutely dripping with disgust when saying his name.

“She has a crush,” your friend, who’d been observing your pining for weeks, teased as she inserted herself into the conversation.

“You can’t be for real?” He scoffed.

“What? You jealous it’s not you?” You’d fired back immediately, giving him a flirtatious look knowing damn well that was actually the case.

“Of Fushiguro? You’re ridiculous.” You fought the snicker that was lodged in your chest as you so clearly heard the embarrassed tremble in his voice.

Despite your friends judging every second you spent with Megumi, whether if it was because he was tutoring you or not, you genuinely couldn’t care less. You saw absolutely no reason to be ashamed over hanging out with him, because you were too distracted by the tingling feeling he sparked deep in your stomach every time you felt his eyes rest on you.

And two months before graduation, you had turned warm with happiness when you’d been met with Megumi leaned against the wall outside the classroom, waiting for you to finish the dreaded English test he’d so diligently helped you study for. You’d only mentioned one time when the test were to take place, and the fact that he had remembered and turned up to show his support, without you requesting, only had your smitten heart beat faster.

“How’d you think it went?”

“As well as it could, I suppose. The grade will be up later today,” you shrugged, rubbing your bare arms in an attempt to calm your nerves.

“I’ll wait with you,” he sighed as he pushed himself off the wall to walk along side you.

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to.” He winced quietly, feeling the words had left him way too quickly to seem cool. “Just so you know, if you get an A, I do take cash as payment.” Your mouth instantly dropped in shock, not believing your own ears.

“Was that a joke I just heard?” You said as you gently shoved him with your shoulder.

With a satisfied pull of his shoulders, you couldn’t help but scrunch your nose at how absolutely adorable he was being.

As much as he wanted to enjoy the day, simply hanging out, he was filled with a small feeling of panic. Because once you got that grade, you no longer had an excuse to hang out and he just expected things would go back to how they were before. You’d go back to not even acknowledging his existence, while he would go back to blending in with the crowd, voice going hoarse because he didn’t have anyone to talk to anymore.

And once you got a notification and your face froze, he realised his time with you was limited. He studied every inch of you carefully as you took a deep breath before checking the grade.

“I got a B,” you whispered.

“Come again?”

“I got a B,” you squealed, latching on around his neck in a bone crushing hug. “Thank you so much, Megumi!”

A deep exhale of solace left him at the sensation of your body pressed up against him in a caring embrace. “You did great,” he mumbled shyly.

When the hug broke, much to his dismay, he brazenly let his hands remain on the dips of your torso. Then, what he had only imagined in his wildest dreams happened, when you so determinedly placed both your hands on his face and pulled him in for a spontaneous kiss right on the lips.

When you realised what you were doing, you abruptly pulled away, clasping both hands over your mouth, staring at him with distress.

“I am so sorry!” You apologised profusely, the words muffled against your hands still covering your guilty lips.

“It’s okay,” he swallowed, but he wasn’t even sure the words made its way past his lips. He just knew his face had turned completely red at your sudden action.

Your hands moved from your mouth to cover your eyes so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “I did not mean to jump you like that. That was so disrespectful! My god, I cannot stress enough how sorry I am!” The sorry words just tumbled out of you, so embarrassed that you’d just thrown yourself at him like that. And in the process, probably ruining every chance you might have had with him.

For what felt like an eternity, you stood there in complete silence before you jumped slightly when you felt his prominent fingers carefully wrapping around your wrists, and pulled them away so you met his understanding eyes.

“Ask me again.” The blush was still visible on his face, but he didn’t seem as mortified as he was mere seconds ago.

“What?”

“You know what,” flashing your small smirk. “Ask me again.” Your brain worked overtime to decipher his message as his eyes flickered between yours. You drew a sharp breath when it hit you like a truck what he was hinting at.

“Would you like to go out sometime?” Déjà vu washed over the two of you, the question sounding just as sugar sweet as it did the first time.

“I would love to.”

“That’s actually quite adorable,” Yuji smiled, as he wrapped his arms tighter around the pillow in his lap.

Nobara didn’t seem as impressed by the story, necessarily. She had her eyebrows pinched together in a frown that seemed anything but understanding. “You really did pursue Fushiguro?”

You rolled your eyes at her. “Yeah,” you said with a shrug. “He was exceptionally cute.” You turned towards him again, grabbing his chin in your hands and wiggling it, puckering your lips at him. It managed to draw out the reaction you wanted — subtle blush kissed cheeks.

“You really had the high school life I always dreamed of, and you gambled it over Fushiguro?” Her dramatic sigh rang through the room as her head fell back, finally being the one to offend Megumi — which was probably way overdue anyways.

You simply scoffed at her, snapping her head back up to look at you. “I didn’t gamble anything,” a smug grin greeting her. “My reputation was never in any danger. Not even Megumi could destroy that.” A squeal instantly yelped out of you when he pinched your side to tickle you. “I’m joking,” you giggled as you let your body melt further into the crook of his arm. “Or, not really. I meant what I said that my reputation was never in danger.”

“I would have killed to know you at eighteen,” she whined and she crossed her arms, a grumpy pout on her lips.

“Then I would be risking my reputation,” you mocked, both the boys laughing at your jab while she just let her jaw drop. “I’m kidding! I would have loved to know you in high school.”

After a while, Nobara and Yuji fell into a bickering match neither you or Megumi had any clue what was about. Your finger traced slow circles on his thigh while you felt his hand give you a slight squeeze.

“You okay?” You took a deep breath through the nose and nodded.

“Mhmm,” you smiled and met his gaze. “Just getting nostalgic.”

He leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on your shoulder before resting his chin on the spot he just gifted his affection. “Yeah, me too.” His eyes admired your face as your eyes softly followed his hairline, dragging your hand through his hair. “Does that mean you wanna order pepperoni pizza?”

Your eyes lit up immediately, beaming at him with pure joy. “You know me so well!”

Another small peck was placed on your shoulder before he reached for his phone.

a/n aaaaah it's here... the introduction to my 400 followers special. i am actually so happy with this and so excited to produce this "project" if you will i think this fic will be mostly serve like an introduction, and other stuff ill post will be more like drabbles, that ill write when im motivated ofc, but also when i dont have any other ideas - because i have quite a few ideas lined up. but so we're clear, everything that takes place in megumi and reader's story happens from when they're 18/19 and up. but yea, so excited to share this concept with you guys <3

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

tag list @sad-darksoul, @nyahctrl, @ssetsuka

285 notes · View notes

reallyromealone · 2 days

Text

Title: bakugos brother

Chapter:...4?

Fandom: bnha

Characters: Bakugo, kirishima, bakusquad and deku squad and a few teachers

Fic type: series

Pairings: kirishima x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, fluff, angst, teen romance

Notes:I lost the ask, so requester I hope you enjoy

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"Apparently he's like super smart"

"He plays chess, I heard he never lost"

"He seems pretty ordinary, I don't get why he's Nedzus personal student"

(Name) Ignored the comments as he left Nedzu's office, his uniform perfectly ironed and his school work organized to perfection as he went to his gen-ed classes, spending the first portion of his day with Nedzu then the rest with his peers as the faculty deemed it important for him to make friends and talk to those his age.

"Apparently he's brothers with Bakugo"

"He probably has serious anger issues"

(Name) Walked into the gen-ed class and took a seat in his chair, staring off as he began playing chess in his head as he waited for things to start "you're bakugos brother, right?" A voice asked beside him and (name) looked to see a guy "yes, I am" (name) said simply as the others glared slightly "your brother is an obnoxious asshole!" One student said "yeah! You two are so fucking cold to others, what? You think you're better than us?!"

"You know, it's impressive " (name) said simply as a student looked confused "what is?"

"That you can make baseless accusations on someone whom you haven't even had a conversation with" (name) said simply as the others looked shocked "you make claims about me that hold zero merit and frankly I think that's appalling" "how dare--"

"I think that's enough class" present mic walked in clearly frustrated with his students "is this any way to treat a new classmate?"

"But--"

"But what? I heard everything and frankly I'm ashamed of you all" the blond teacher said sternly "(name) was put in your class hoping you all would give him a warm welcome and you berated him for actions of another"

The students looked ashamed and (name) was awkward, fidgeting with his mechanical pencil as the others mumbled out apologies and the blond sighed "now pull out your textbooks to page 138"

When classes ended, (name) had a free study period and decided to go to the courtyard to play some chess by himself and get away from it all, he felt just as lonely as he did at his old school but he should have expected to be in his brothers shadow here as well.

"Hey... Uh were sorry about what happened" a few students came up, a purple haired teen and two others "it was pretty shitty of us to put that on you, that wasn't cool" the teens mumbled and (name) shrugged "I'm used to it"

"You shouldn't have to be though and it's uncool"

"Shinso Hitoshi" the purple haired teen offered and (name) looked at them passively "Bakugo (name)" his voice always so calm and collected as they nodded "so you play chess?" One student asked and (name) nodded "outside of school, I'm a professional chess player"

"Whoa! That's so cool! Is that why you're Nedzu's student?"

"Actually it's due to my quirk, I have an intelligence quirk" (name) explained and the three sat with him "whoa those are super rare!" The other said and Shinso looked curious about it "why didn't you apply earlier?" Shinso asked before realizing that was probably insensitive and (name) shrugged "didn't think I would be able, two students already got into here... A third seemed impossible" it was a lie but they seemed to accept it.

"So what's it like being Nedzu's student?!"

After classes, Kirishima was excited to see his boyfriend as the two hadn't seen each other in a few days due to conflicting schedules but now they could! Even if half the class wanted to join as well.

"I brought a friend" (name) said simply as shinso looked awkward, kirishima feeling pride at his boyfriend making friends independent of the redhead "oh! You're the one going through the transfer!" Momo said excitedly "yeah the one replacing mineta!" Ochaco cheared "and right before the sports festival! Oh we can train together!"

Hitoshi was startled a bit as he noticed Midoriya who was a calming presence "come on! Aizawa is only letting us out till 845! We only have like five hours!" Mina yelled as Bakugo grunted at her dragging him.

Hitoshi was dragged into conversation with tenya and kaminari about god knows what as Kirishima and a few others chatted away, leaving the Bakugo siblings to walk beside each other awkwardly "how's heroics" (name) said in more of a statement, uncomfortable as he tried to make small talk with his brother "fine" Bakugo grunted as Kirishima went with tsu and Ochaco "babe I'll be right back! Don't follow I want it to be a surprise!"

And then the siblings were left alone as the group seperated to grab the things they needed or wanted and to meet up after for food.

"You two seem happy" Bakugo was rarely soft, the concept of him being calm and tentative was something that would be laughable to anyone who knew him "he makes me happy, I hope I make him feel the same" (name) said simply and Bakugo make a soft hum "I'm glad you're at U.A"

"Didn't you not want me here?" (Name) Looked at Katsuki as they stopped walking"fucking--- I know I was shitty, dad's making me go to therapy with hound dog" this was new, something he didn't expect at all.

"Dad's fed up with the hag, he's forcing basically everyone to therapy so expect a call"

The two sat on a bench, small talk between them as they waited for their friends to come back.

It was strange for Katsuki to say he was finally meeting his brother, on equal grounds and no hostility but Katsuki needed this.

He needed his brother.

"BABE LOOK WHAT I FOUND!" Kirishima barreled in with bracelets "look, it has chess pieces! And you can customize it so I added a barbell!" Kirishima said excitedly as he handed (name) one and the calmer Bakugo took it curiously "this is cheesy" he said simply but the small smile as he put on it made kirishima fly to cloud nine.

Bakugo was surprised that his brother had such an interest like origami, seeming genuinely happy with the variety pack of designs "oo make me a brid!" Kirishima teased and (name) took that seriously and they could see the gears turn in his head.

(Name) Was happy when he returned to his form, putting the bracelet in a safe area with his other important items and sat down, thinking About the conversation he had... Bakugo apologized...

He had to talk to kirishima tomorrow about this.

"Hey shitty hair,.can I talk?"

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #male reader #x male reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader #kirishima x male reader #kirishima x reader

164 notes · View notes

queenaeducan · 3 days

Text

In Defense of Spirits

Or, alternatively:

I. Introduction

Spirits are one of my favourite parts of the Dragon Age lore, but they didn't start that way! Initially with Origins the various demons I fought I considered little more than cannon fodder, enemies put in my way to cut down so I could move on with my mission. With the introduction of Justice in Awakening and Dragon Age II coupled with Merrill’s alternate perspective also introduced in the latter, my feelings about them started to change. Solas and Cole crack those feelings wide open come Inquisition, and when replaying the games I found myself questioning the motivations of encounters with people I once considered one-note enemies.

I wanted to compile a list of these alternate readings of the various spirits we meet throughout the series, starting first with Origins. I'll be detailing some common themes and, where it’s appropriate, to defend their actions. This list is not comprehensive as there are some encounters I don’t consider significant or interesting enough to mention, although if someone’s curious about a particular spirit I’m happy to oblige. For the purposes of clarity, if I use the word “spirit” I am still referring to all denizens of the Fade, whether they call themselves Pride or Compassion. I may use the word “demon,” as a treat.

The purpose of this retrospective is to reflect upon the motivations of the spirits we kill through the series and how I think Bioware successfully created a world where, in this instance, we were sucked into their preconceived biases regarding spirits. And hopefully to make you feel as bad as I do when I’m forced to kill spirits who probably are better people than my player characters. I am also not arguing that everything I put forth here was intended by the writers. I have the reach and flexibility to pull out threads they didn’t expect me to.

Finally, this won’t be an exhaustive examination. There are a lot of spirits and some don’t invite discussion on my part.

II. Analytical Lens

There are several recurring themes that will crop up when I’m recontextualising the motivations of the spirits throughout the series. We’ll be going over these in detail as we talk about individual spirits, but for now:

The Veil is a construct. There was initially no barrier stopping them from moving back and forth freely, and in many ways their desire to manifest physically outside the Fade is a natural inclination. The problem being that going there and back again isn’t as easy as it once was.

They don’t understand this world. Again, I think the presence of the Veil exacerbates this. Time and again we see spirits who do have enough will to manifest safely have difficulty adjusting.

Trying to help hurts. Spirits can’t sicken with Blight or the common cold (that we know of), but intense emotions or cruel intentions can twist them from their purposes. Those who reach out in the honest urge to help may find themselves burned, sometimes through no fault of either party.

Their design encourages dehumanisation. For lack of a better word, considering this is a land of elves, dwarves, qunari, and so on. Many of the spirits we’re asked to empathise with are humanoid, with those we are at odds with being more likely to be monstrous or animal in design, making it easier to justify why we need to choose violence.

III. Dragon Age: Origins

Mouse

Mouse is among the first spirit players will meet in Dragon Age, depending on whether or not they play the Mage origin or not. Narratively he is meant to introduce the player to the role spirits often play in the lives of mages, that is to say: an evil that is not always self-evident. He tells a sympathetic lie, presents himself as someone who was once in a position like the protagonist currently is, and wants to make sure they don’t end up like him, only for it to be revealed that the entire reason he’s there is to possess them. At least, nominally that’s his role. A second pass at Mouse’s actions does raise questions as to his true intentions.

Throughout the test Mouse encourages two things within the protagonist: their self-worth and their questioning of the ritual. The former makes sense, he is ultimately revealed to be a spirit of Pride and so to stoke the protagonist’s own pride may inflate their confidence to a point where they can’t see the potential harm in dealing with him. Still, in a society where magic is feared and mages prisoners, there is something radical in encouraging that in someone. Especially when paired with remarks Mouse makes where he questions the logic of the Harrowing itself:

“It isn’t right they do this, the Templars. Not to you, me, anyone.”

This is one of the first things he says to you, and is one of the first pieces of Circle critical rhetoric in the entire series. From the perspective of the protagonist at the time, it would seem he’s referring only to apprentices, but is he? Spirits are drawn into the Harrowing as much as mages, ostensibly willingly with the promise of a body to possess, but we see in rituals such as the one that drew Wisdom into the world that the Circle isn’t above shackling spirits into doing their bidding, be it as a means of protection or garnering information. Once inside, they’re subject to the will of the apprentice, who have been taught to fear and mistrust the Fade since they were first brought to the Circle. So is Mouse expressing bitterness about the situation of the apprentices, or is he looking at the situation as being equally unfair to all involved?

Furthermore, what’s most interesting about Mouse is he never actually tries to possess you. He makes some requests, which Surana or Amell can’t agree to, but even if you avoid catching onto his game for as long as you can it never goes farther than that. He reveals himself as the final test and before the Harrowing ends he dispenses the to-be Warden a warning:

“Simple killing is a warrior’s job. The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions, careless trust… pride. Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests never end.”

A piece of wisdom, if you will.

I don’t believe Mouse ever truly intended to possess you, although it’s impossible to tell if he truly would or not without the ability to agree to his bargain. He gives up the game too quickly, with the Warden only needing to vaguely doubt his story before he reveals it. By following the Warden through their Harrowing he helps them successfully bargain with spirits like Valor and Sloth and safely introduces the idea that not everything here is as it seems. Rather than being purely a Pride demon, I think Mouse is a spirit of Wisdom influenced by the Warden’s preconceptions towards what some might call the darker aspect of the values he represents.

While I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that Mouse was exactly what we’re led to believe, nevertheless I believe it probable that spirits aren’t always gleeful participants in the Harrowing and that the rite is damaging to them as well as the apprentice mages.

Desire

We go now to another spirit from the Circle, specifically the Desire demon we meet in the Broken Circle quest. When we come across her she’s possessed a Templar and letting him live out a fantasy of having a wife and children. When the Warden and their party come across her, she argues that she’s giving him what he wants and doesn’t see the harm in it. Upon my first playthrough I took this as a lie and killed her, although it was difficult not feeling bad, as from the perspective of the enthralled Templar he died defending his family from bandits. To him the Warden was unequivocally the bad guy, and it’s tragic thinking about what his final thoughts might have been.

As for Desire herself, I think there’s an argument to be made that she simply didn’t see a difference between her making a life for herself and the Templar all within his head and a physical, lived life. We see in Inquisition especially, where we talk to more spirits, that the nature of the physical world is as alien to them as the Fade is to mortals. Command wonders out loud why the rocks do not move at her command, and Cole asks Varric to talk to his shoelaces for him because they “don’t listen to him.” They existed in a world where will mattered more and where dreams were real, so it stands to reason that to Desire there is no discernable difference between giving him what he wants for real and dreaming it.

Interestingly, you can choose to let them both go, and we get no indication of where they go from the Circle. Leliana also approves because she thinks what counts is that he’s happy. Personally I don’t feel there’s a right option in this quest as either leaves the Templar in a tragic spot, but I do think the Desire demon’s motivations aren’t as evil or manipulative as they seemed on my first playthrough.

Lady of the Forest

The Lady is perhaps the first spirit in the series given a more complicated character than “spirit good, demon bad.” We have Valor in the mage origin, Wynne’s spirit of Faith, etc, but they aren’t given much characterisation and their benevolent nature is taken as a matter of fact. We have a biased introduction to her, we see the damage she has done to Zathrian’s clan and hear his side of the story. We go into the forest to carve the heart from her chest.

But when the time comes to actually speak with her, his bias and deception is plain. She has all the trappings of a demon: summoned at a point of great tragedy, as a tool of vengeance, enacting a literal curse upon Zathrian’s enemies. Yet now she is an advocate for non-violent solutions, only compelled to violence by desperation (she sent letters but Zathrian left her on read) or by the player’s encouragement (potentially). I do think this was an end she worked towards, and didn’t come by naturally, saying to the Warden at one point:

“Then the time has come to… set our rage aside. I apologise on Swiftrunner’s behalf. He struggles with his nature.”

While she is speaking of Swiftrunnher, given she is the curse’s origin, I think the same could be said of her nature (as it is her curse). Zathrian implies much the same, saying to her:

“Your nature compels it, as does mine.”

I think it’s very likely that had we encountered the Lady those hundred years ago when she was first made, she would have been to our eyes a demon, rather than the semi-benevolent force of nature she appears as in-game. Interestingly, her outward nature doesn’t change if she is compelled to kill the Dalish. She isn’t thrilled, but neither is her nature twisted. She’s pretty quick to move on, afterwards. Of the major spirits in DA:O, I do think she is an outlier in the series. Killing her is the bad option, especially when a mutually beneficial solution is forced upon you. She also has a stronger presence of mind than many of the other spirits, perhaps accounting to her age and the fact that she is tethered to the world through not only Zathrian but her ‘followers.’ It’s fitting that the Dalish quest is the one where a spirit is presented not only sympathetically, but (as far as I can tell) exclusively referred to as a spirit whether they are doing right or wrong.

Rage

We meet many Rage demons in Origins, and throughout the series, but the spirit I’m referring to are the ones we meet in the Alienage’s orphanage. The recent site of a massacre, the orphanage is now home to a spirit of Rage who attacks those who enter. Rage, I thought, was a curious choice, when Despair and Terror exist. Although the fact that they probably didn’t want to make a new spirit model for this one sidequest would probably explain it on a development level, but then I wondered— whose rage?

The spirits don’t seem to embody the rage of the people who massacred the orphanage, or even the rage of the victims. They tell the Warden and Ser Otto that they “do not belong here” and one is furious that the party has killed “my brood.” I think the presence of the spirits here is indicative of how helpful or benevolent spirits can be twisted by the horrors of our world, that they were drawn by the misery of what happened at the orphanage and upon witnessing it they became enraged. They are ultimately protecting nothing, just an empty building that’s probably best torn down or cleared out, or whatever the elves of Denerim’s Alienage decide they need to properly mourn. Yet as we walk through the building the screams of children still play around us, it’s still happening for its current residents.

In the final encounter of the quest, the Rage demon targets and kills Ser Otto (assuming those mabari you encounter like two minutes in don’t get him first, like they do for me every time if I’m not paying attention) first out of your entire party. It makes sense, although his motivation was pure, he is representative of the human justice that allows horrors like this, and what’s more— how many orphans were taken from the orphanage’s midst by people wearing armour just like his, never to return?

The rage demons had every right to be angry, even if their anger manifested in a harmful way. The tragedy is that, outside of Denerim’s Alienage, most people weren’t.

IV. Other

These are spirits whose roles I don’t have much to say about, for one reason or another.

Kitty. I don’t have much to say about Kitty, who as a reminder is the spirit held captive in the basement of Wilhelm, the former master of Shale. Given Kitty can agree to not possess Amalia, content simply to be free of the basement, and then doubles back on that promise once you complete the puzzle, I don’t have the highest opinion of Kitty. However, can I do want to point out that Wilhelm held Kitty captive in his basement for decades for his research. Research which, by the way, was to find ways to prevent mages from becoming possessed. A little ironic that he essentially possessed a spirit to do so. I want to point this out only because I think it highlights how spirits are casually used by people and at no point do we stop and wonder what decades of being locked up in a basement outside of their intended realm of existence might do to someone, even a metaphysical someone.

Herren. The merchant and life partner of the blacksmith Wade, who may have made your Warden some nice armour from all those endangered dragons they killed. In the Darkspawn Chronicles Herren is fought— as a desire demon. Gaider says this is not canon, but he doesn’t even go here anymore, so instead I’d like to put forth the idea that Herren is a desire demon taken physical form who lives out his existence peacefully (if somewhat grumpily) with his eccentric husband. I have no evidence of this being a fact, in fact I have the opposite of evidence, but I like my version better, so.

The Grand Oak. I think everyone with a modicum of taste likes this guy, but I do think he's an interesting lens to look at how spirits in Elvhenan might have lived. I like to think all of them had a period where they just vibed as a tree for a hundred years or so.

#dragon age #dragon age meta #dragon age lore #dragon age: origins #lady of the forest #mouse dragon age #long post #my writing #i have no idea what to tag this tbh

97 notes · View notes

deadlyangelofpurity · 2 days

Text

I think the main issues with Viv's stuff is because she's trying to have it both ways. It's very evident writing is not her strong suite and it seems that Viv has this tendency whenever she makes a series ranging from when Zootopia was a thing to get sidetracked on something more interesting she created along the way and messes the story/premise she had.

It also seems like Viv never got out of that edgy teen phase and her writing stopped maturing. It's why when Viv tries tackling serious topics she can't be consistent because she wants this show to be a dark comedy but then also be wacky without bothering to space it out. It's why we're supposed to take Angel getting raped seriously but then laugh when Pentious gets dragged into the room. Viv should've taken a firm stance, either it's all a joke or it's not.

It's also probably why the shows are safe edgy as Viv clearly wants to tap into that audience but she's too much of a wussy to go through with it. Maybe if her show wasn't in Hell it could at least be overlooked but Viv has more of less turned Hell into furry Detroit with red scattered everywhere. I think Viv let's her favoritism get in the way of an interesting story and it's why Stolas more or less had his entire character overhauled for the sake of the ship in Season 2. In all likelihood the reason for this sudden change was because Viv had no idea how else she could sell wholesome Stolitz so she had to pull out every gun she had at the expense of the story and the premise itself. It's also why Ozzie, Fizz, Bee and Lucifer are legit softies because apparently it's Hell only works for antagonists, not for you know, actual Lords of Sin and hell spawn. It's even more baffling given her shows are meant for adults yet if feels that if you removed episode four from Hazbin and cut out the cursing this show could've been for edgy teens and it basically is, but Viv doesn't wanna catch flak for having her shows be for kids given subject matter has mature topics despite her terrible handling of it so we have this weirdly limbo where the shows is basically trying to have it both ways but it just ends up shooting itself.

#hazbin critical #helluva boss critical #helluva criticism #hazbin critic #spindlehorse criticism #vivziepop critic #rant #anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #anti hazbin hotel

84 notes · View notes

kingkatsuki · 1 day

Text

— release

You know a characters really got me good when I set out to write non-con and end up writing the opposite wahhh. I hope what I was going for with this makes sense and you get why it’s sexy idk😂😭 and once again if you don’t like don’t read💕

Kaji is trying to make sure you get home safe on a night out, but has absolutely no idea what he’s supposed to do when you need to pee—

Pairing: Kaji Ren x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, omorashi, piss, voyeurism, exhibitionism, intoxication (reader is drunk), dubcon (reader specifies she consents but she’s drunk), borderline edging.

Word Count: 1.9k.

“Kajiii,” You whine pathetically as you tug at the sleeve of his hoodie, “I need to pee.”

Kaji turns to look down at you with an internal groan before glancing back at the rowdy club you’d just left. A large queue of people still gathered outside waiting to get in, as the line slinks around the corner.

Kaji could kill Tsubaki-chan right now.

He’d been forced out to one of Tsubaki’s shows in Keisei Street by Hiragi. It was practically blackmail as his old mentor as he explained how much his old school friends missed him, and hoped that he could make it. But he hadn’t expected you to be there— unsure whether it was a blessing or a curse as he sat opposite you in one of the booths and he tried desperately to stop the heat from rising in his chest whenever you spoke.

It felt more like a set-up when Tsubaki leaned across the table after his performance to volunteer Kaji to take you home— a very drunk you.

“I know she’ll be in safe hands with you, Kaji-kun. The safest.”

And you would be, Kaji reckons. Much better than the other creeps in there that could’ve been taking you home right now— god knows what would’ve happened if he’d refused.

“Why didn’t you go five minutes ago?” He deadpanned, trying to ignore the way you slid your hand into his with such ease. Threading your smaller fingers through his he realised just how clammy his palm had become.

“I didn’t need to go then.” You looked up at him with a pretty pout that Kaji wanted to kiss right off your lips, his heart thudding against his rib cage as he tried to think of what to do.

There was a rowdy izakaya a few streets down that he knew would still be open from his few patrols of the area, it probably made the most sense to take you there. He started to weave through the crowds as he pulled you down a side street to avoid the sea of people, feeling a tug of resistance as you stopped dead in your tracks.

“I can’t hold it,” You whined, moving to conceal yourself beside a large dumpster as Kaji frowned, “I can just go here.”

“W-what?” He glanced back down the alleyway to its opening to see people walking past, and although it was nowhere near as busy as the main street it was still very much public, “You can’t— here?”

The thought of having you in such a vulnerable, precarious position had a scorching heat shooting through his veins. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the thought as he stood statuesque in place.

“Don’t let anyone see, ‘kay Kaji?” Before he can try to stop you, you’re pushing on his arm gently to coax him towards the entrance, “I promise I’ll be quick.”

Kaji waits for you at the end of the alley, positioned like a guard dog. Jaw locked, eyes focused as he sucks his sucker. He’d lost count of the number of sparkling sakes you’d had after your fifth, nursing the same glass of soju he’d had all night as the loud bass flowed through the speakers and Tsubaki-chan took to the stage. But for the entire time, Kaji couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Much like right now— god, he was such a freak.

He feels like one of the creeps he wanted to protect you from in the first place — the people Tsubaki-chan had been trying to protect you from — as he turns his head to watch you pull your panties down from underneath your short skirt, the fabric bunched around your hips to reveal more of your plush thighs as your back presses against the brick wall and you sink down. You wobble slightly in your heels as you bend, crouching off the ground as your panties group around your knees.

Your panties were pink.

He tries to ignore the look of pure bliss on your face as you begin to alleviate the pent-up tension in your bladder as you finally let go, a puddle forming building between your thighs as you piss in the small alleyway.

Fuck, you looked so pretty right now.

He tries to be good and forces himself to glance back at the busy street as he waits patiently for you at the entrance to the alleyway, now painfully hard as he starts to imagine making you do that himself.

“Fuck,” He hears you curse before breaking out into a melodic giggle as he turns his attention back to you. Your hands are now pressed against the wall as your face droops forward, perched on wobbly legs as you struggle to stand. Kaji then notices as you start to fiddle with the buckle on one of your heels as he groans, moving from his guard dog position in quick, long strides towards you.

“Whatcha doin’?” He rasps gruffly as you grin.

Kaji tries to avert his gaze as stands in front of you, positive he can just about make out the folds of your cunt as he tries desperately to remain a gentleman.

Your drunken fingers are unable to conquer the clasps as you reach out for him, your legs almost give way as they wobble but Kaji’s reflexes are faster. Grabbing you before you fall into the puddle you’d just made beneath you, as he pulls you up to stand.

“Wanna take my shoes off, my feet hurt.”

“But your—” underwear, undies, pants, panties— he can’t bring himself to say the word as he feels unbearably warm, “You’re not decent.”

“That’s not nice,” You pout, “I’m really good.”

Fuck, you were so cute. Kaji can’t bite back the groan that spills from deep in his chest at your words.

“That’s not what I meant,” He almost bites down on the candy ball of his sucker as he tries to remember to breathe, “Your p-panties—“

“Oh,” You giggle again and it’s like music to his ears as he almost forgets he’s standing with you like this in a dirty alleyway, “Help me.”

You’re reaching out to cling to his shoulders now as Kaji reaches down to curl deft fingers around the hem of your panties— if the thin pink string could even be called that.

“You’re staring.” You cock your head to the side and Kaji curses beneath his breath at how cute you look, trying to ignore the shame that ebbs through him at your words.

“Sorry.” He replies bluntly.

“No, I like it,” You smile hazily, and it has Kaji’s cock pulsing beneath his skinny jeans, “Do you wanna touch it?”

You’re thankful for the alcohol flowing through your veins for giving you the liquid courage to ask, and also the perfect alibi if he refuses. Hoping he won’t as you reach out to clasp one of his hands in your own.

“W-what?” Kaji baulks, eyes wide as saucers as he thinks he might’ve cum in his pants. The fabric sopping with fresh pre as he leaks against his pelvis, trying to ignore the sticky clammy sensation as you tug his hand closer to your heat.

“You can touch me if you want to,” You grin.

He hates how blase you are about the whole situation, and yet he finds himself filled with unbridled curiosity. His cock bucks as he feels you pull his hand closer to your warm cunt, letting him make the final decision as you look up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“You’re drunk.” He replies bluntly, and yet makes no attempt to move his hand.

“So?” You challenge with a lazy smile, reaching up to tug the lollipop from between his lips as he lets you. Watching intently as you move it towards your mouth, pressing the spit-soaked candy against your glossy lips as you twirl it between a thumb and forefinger. Letting your lips wrap around the candy before your tongue slips out to circle it, causing a low groan to form at the back of his throat while he watches you finally swallow it, “I want you to touch me. ’m asking you to.”

Kaji groans at how wet you feel— from the piss that soaks your folds to the creamy slick that drools from your tight hole as he glides two thick digits through the mess of you. His touch has you grinding against him, desperate for more as you follow his movements. Bracing yourself against his broad shoulders as you feel him focus his attention on your clit, spinning gentle circles around it as he pulls a desperate whine from your pretty lips.

He wonders how you’d feel relieving yourself against his fingers, his thigh or perhaps even his face if he could convince you enough— imagining how the warmth would engulf him as he watches the stream of piss leave your body up close, feeling it soak his skin as you cry out in bliss.

He has the debauched urge to bend down to his knees to taste you on his tongue, but fights it tooth and nail as he continues to press against your puffy clit. Chewing the inside of his cheek as you moan loudly, steel-blue eyes immediately look towards the alley entrance to check if anyone heard.

You hate that his attention shifts as you move a palm to the back of his neck, pulling him down roughly to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss. The sucker stick pressed against the corner of your lips as his tongue brushes against the ball of it inside your mouth. Kissing around the hard candy as your nails drag through the messy hair at the base of his skull.

It’s enough to have Kaji’s mind racing as he tries to match your movements, swallowing your moans on his tongue as he moves his fingers lower. Pressing two inside your velvety walls as he resumes his persistent circles against your clit with his thumb.

“I’m not doing this here.” Kaji groans, eyes clenched shut as he practically forces himself to pull away from your messy cunt.

His words have your hips jolting as you squeeze your thighs together tightly, trying to give yourself some much-needed friction as your eyes roll back. Almost positive you won’t be able to last that long, as you contemplate unabashedly slipping your fingers between your legs to finish yourself off again here.

“Kaji,” You whimper, “I was so close.”

“Not here.” His cheeks practically glow pink as he pulls the material of your panties up your thighs, settling them on your hips as he pulls your skirt back down to cover you up. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this has an inexplicable rage forming inside him, as he glances back towards the entrance to the alley to make sure no one is watching.

“You’re such a tease.” Your head falls back against the wall as you keep your grip on him even when he moves back up, the alcohol in your veins stunts your reflexes as it takes a second for your body to catch up to your brain as you squint.

“I’ve waited way too fuckin’ long for this,” Kaji rasps against your mouth as you feebly try to wrap your hand around his wrist to pull him back towards your unsatisfied cunt, pouting pathetically as you whine, “I want you sober when I finally make you cum for me.”

#tw:piss #trigger:piss #Kaji ren smut #ren Kaji smut #wind breaker smut #Kaji thirst #wind breaker thirst #jo thirsts

56 notes · View notes

factual-fantasy · 3 days

Text

30 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🦷

Leave comments on my artwork! :D Either in the comment section, in my ask box, reblogs or tags! Reading all the responses to my artwork is my favorite part of posting on Tumblr and is what keeps me posting! :}}

<XD I wanted him to be. But the spawn rate for female Eevees is 12%!! Heck if I'm gonna run around for hours on end looking for a female!

Besides, drawing Sylveon in a more masculine and chaotic way is fun! And having his backstory be that he evolved out of love for his friends, despite being a man, is a fun origin story! :))

Oh nono, art fight isn't for me 😅 I like to keep my characters to myself and don't tend to draw other peoples characters-

@milk-powrit

I had this idea in my head that big Koopas like Bowser cannot retreat into their shell. But regular little Koopas troops can. But I'm kind'a rethinking that.. I'm considering making all Koopas unable to retreat into their shells :00

Hmm... good question.. perhaps his citizens know, but other kingdoms do not.?

..Are you alright-

@jeysecretive

I'm sure I'm not the first person to come up with this idea, so I have no right to say you cant do it too. Go right ahead!

Of all the food related Pokémon I can remember.. Alcremie is pretty cute :)))

@kermit-ydafrog (Sent after this post)

.....For some reason I don't believe you Kermit-

XDD THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :)))))

@untitled-7613

:0 A logo? Where would I put it?

@foxdemon-loser

Aww! What a cute widdle fox.. 🥺💞💞

(In response to an ask from this post)

No problem! Thank you for the asks! :))

@im-nice-but-i-dont-like-you

Today wasn't as bad as it could have been! Thank you! :)) I wish the same for you!

I think you're right about this. And yeah, involving money with my favorite hobby probably just isn't a great idea.. 😔

I haven't caught up with Octonauts recently, so I don't know who you're talking about.. <://

<XD For me its the opposite. I get so caught up in the routine of my usual candle run path that I forget to go out of my way to snatch up the winged lights-

:DDD THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :]]]]

I'd prefer a cold shower personally! <XD

@anikakitty11

The baby..... 🥺🥺🥺🥺

@dooflizard

Oooo! Nifty! :00 Thanks for telling me about this! :))

@wolfie-777

Ah nooo, I have no plans to do so! <:/

@olives-in-shadows

Something about this baby looks oddly mischievous...

@savetheearthbros

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DDDD I should totally draw them again sometime!! :000

@teemhauntsSorry for the late reply! Tumblr ate this ask-- I use FireAlpaca! :)) Its free and easy to learn for beginners, but has a lot of tools for the pros! But be warned, it can be a bit buggy at times-

Grizzly Bears! :DDD

@mason-gaylord

Awe, thank you!! :)))

@charactersnatcher

:DD THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :}}}}

Man I haven't had pizza in a while- thank you! :))

I would prefer to be frozen actually! <XDD I don't take the heat well 💀

#my response #pokemon scarlet and violet #sylveon #super mario bros

47 notes · View notes

brokenwinebox · 1 day

Text

Claire: Ominous Or Naive?

this meta is still based on @vacationship and @thoughtfulchaos773 posts on molly’s interview but i’m focusing on claire more individually as a character inspired by @yannaryartside’s meta on her (maybe purposeful?) manipulative behavior. if you would like the full context please read the following in order:

vacationship’s meta w/ molly’s interview

thoughtfulchaos773’s meta on the topic

brokenwinebox’s meta on pushing

yannaryartside’s meta on claire

↓ extra long text below

word count: 9.8k

claire is one of the most controversial characters on the show the bear. people hate the way she was messily written by the writers and others don’t seem to mind it. but the question will always be on whether the strong dislike for her character is justified or not necessary.

carmy is an integral part of claire’s story.

it’s why i struggle so much with writing claire individually, because all the writers have done is only make her relevant through carmy.

in result of that, this will be a deep dive on claire’s character, but also a deep dive into carmy as well.

you’ll be in my mind, and see my thought process on everything regarding claire, carmy, and clairecarmy. basically, you’ll see my theories and attempt to understand claire and carmy as characters. am i insane for making this? yes! this will be a pretty long post, sorry!

throughout this claire analysis, i’m going to try to approach the topic of manipulation with the most neutral tone possible. i’ll raise a lot questions and maybe you could try to fill in the blanks for yourselves. i don’t really have any experience with psychology so if anyone has more knowledge/experience on the topic, don’t hesitate to join in.

before we get into it, i think we need to raise a general question that could be used throughout this meta: does claire truly have an ominous presence or does she feel naive in the way she handles her relationship with carmy?

this is where my previous post about the pushing involving claire and marcus come into play. we don’t know the full connection with sydcarmy and what the mutual pushing entails quite yet. doesn’t mean we shouldn’t think about them when i bring this question up.

how much pushing is warranted before it becomes manipulative?

for me, the problem always stemmed from the way the dialogue was handled. at first, it almost felt like you could look right past it and enjoy the rest of show. unfortunately, the dialogue is far too glaring for me and seemingly an endless amount of people feel the same way.

it always felt like carmy could be open sometimes to what claire suggests but with way she adds unnecessary verbiage like the “owe” and “say that one more time”, it felt like this optional door was closed and now we’re watching him not even have a chance to deny or accept. hence, why in my pushing meta, i said claire gets constant (reluctant) acceptance.

claire is a character that can’t be explicitly defined. it’s probably why the panic attack from carmy was such a striking moment in his brain and for the audience. maybe claire isn’t supposed to be heavily defined because carmy himself can’t define her. she’s just a girl he ended up rekindling with but he can’t define his feelings and ultimately, their relationship as a whole.

does he love her? is she his girlfriend? if he was sure, he wouldn’t hesitate to answer.

seems like carmy is throwing metaphorical spaghetti/his thoughts on the wall/his brain, hoping some of the noodles/his past and present will stick. fak’s meddling won’t work if he’s going against carmy’s utmost inner thoughts and feelings.

that’s probably why, in his head, claire could be the perfect choice for carmy to choose romantically. claire is representative of his past and present. i’ll elaborate further into that later.

in s1e8, he mentioned before in al anon that he was trying to fix the beef because he wanted to fix his relationship with his brother. even mentioned potentially fixing the whole family.

would carmy do whatever it took to sew his family back together and continue to date someone he didn’t have strong feelings for?

now that i laid out the groundwork, let’s start from the beginning of their relationship and work our way through it until the s2 finale.

i have a frozen in time theory when it comes to clairecarmy. might be worth checking out if you want to understand my thought process.

Reunion By Grocery Store Fridges

we’re in the grocery store and carmy is getting veal stock from a grocery store fridge. carmy is looking down at the veal stock, lost in thought (thinking of sydney maybe?)

we see claire approaching through the reflection of the glass door. she freezes, probably in recognition. she asks if that’s the person she thought it was.

carmy remained silent, like he was trying to place a face to a name. they stare at each other in silence until he finally reached to what her name was.

claire was hearing about all his endeavors through mikey so, it’s not surprising she automatically recognized him. carmy probably barely hears anything from his family.

claire: “so, how’s your life been, berzatto?” carmy: “i have no idea. how about you?” claire: “i have no idea.”

they nod at each other in acknowledgment. this is possibly when they felt a kinship between each other. both can’t define what’s been going on between them in life. it was a temporary relief, kinda like ice on a bruise. maybe this was the only time claire was being real with him. that little connection he felt is what prompted him to stay with her to talk.

they’re leaning on the fridge, catching up on the other’s life. she talks about how she’s has six months in her residency in her study on emergency medicine. carmy brings up how it sounds intense, could be potentially thinking about his past intense work in the kitchen. this furthers the connection between them.

claire: “when we were like six, she fell off a fence and broke her arm and it scared the shit out of everybody. except me, i just like sat there and stared at her arm.” carmy: “cause you wanted to fix it?” claire: “i wanted to understand it.”

she wanted to understand a broken arm. is this the writers telling us she want to understand him because she assumes he’s broken? why else would the writers make her say that?

carmy talks about opening the restaurant and claire looks at him with excitement.

claire: “why what are you doing?” carmy: “opening a restaurant.” claire: “you’re doing the thing.” carmy: “trying to, yeah.” claire: “still, i love the name.”

this is when we find out that claire knows the name of the restaurant. this was always strange dialogue to me because wasn’t carmy shy? why would he talk about something that personal? and with a crush, no less.

this is when i started messing with the idea that it wasn’t carmy who told her. what if mikey told her?

carmy: “how could you remember the name?” claire: “because you’re the bear, and i remember you.”

this is claire’s attempt to reach out to him emotionally. extending an arm. a silent little, “i see you. you’re not alone.”

this is a great juxtaposition to line sydney: “you’re the most excellent cdc at the most excellent restaurant in the entire united states of america. so, what are you doing here, i guess?”

what if this is when carmy senses the lie or something off behind her words? what if he knew he wasn’t really being seen at all? maybe he senses that claire wasn’t really talking to him. (mikey? his high school presence?)

what if he saw his past through her and he didn’t like it?

i can’t get over his reaction to that line either. you would expect it to be this happy expression but it wasn’t. carmy looked lost, almost dissociated.

perhaps, because claire wasn’t being genuine after that bear line, maybe carmy senses it and that connection he felt is lost. she asks for his number which causes him to give her a wrong one. it looked like he had that same dissociated look when he was telling her his number.

in result, this naturally slides down in place with the juxtaposition to syd’s “this was my dad’s favorite spot when i was a kid. come here every sunday. special place!”

(there’s an on going theory that speculates sydney was lying about her father coming every sunday.)

this moment might be where carmy severs his connection with her entirely. this scene was never mentioned again and the writers could have easily put this into the panic attack scene to calm him down. but they didn’t. why is that?

isn’t it strange that claire, who i said isn’t ever explicitly defined, can’t even define how her life has been? she seems like a character that would be very sure of herself. what happened there?

The Phone Call

we’re in carmy’s apartment, he’s cleaning up before preparing to get ready to go to kasama with sydney. his phone rings and he answers.

carmy: “hello?” claire: “did you really give a fake number?” carmy: “claire?” claire: “should my feelings be hurt? i think they’re hurt.”

i personally wouldn’t tell a person that gave me a fake number that i was hurt. in fact, i wouldn’t be trying to get their number at all. you could always say she said it on purpose to make him feel bad but maybe she genuinely just wanted to know if it was a mistake.

carmy: “hmmm no no no sorry, that must’ve been a mistake.” claire: “you know i know you’re entire family and the faks right?” carmy: “you know all the faks?” claire: “yeah i know all the fucking faks and they’re going to come beat you up.”

this could be a lighthearted joke but it does raise the question if she doesn’t respond well to rejection.

claire: “why just why. walk me through giving me a fake number. why?” carmy: “hmm no no cause i, uh, i didn’t mean for that to happen um i’m sorry. i’m sorry it was a mistake, okay?”

it seems like carmy doesn’t like being confronted with that question. it’s pretty huge to decide on not giving someone you used to like or even a family friend a fake number.

claire: “thank you, i really appreciate that. well, i was originally calling before i found out i got fake numbered and had to ask neil for your real number to ask if you were busy today, so now i have two questions.” carmy: “shoot, yeah.” claire: “okay, one is it okay that i have your number or did you really not want me to have your number?”

claire actually making sure if he really didn’t want her to have her number is commendable but if carmy already doesn’t like confrontation on that subject, he could just automatically agree to get out of saying he doesn’t want her to have it.

carmy: “no no no no it’s uh, i want you to have my number.” claire: “okay, say that one more time.” carmy: “i want you to have my number.”

i’ve talked about this line in my pushing meta but i always thought this little interaction was interesting. this could fit pretty well into the naive narrative i asked about.

maybe those words, “say it one more time,” were pretty reminiscent of a giddy teenage girl, confirming that her long-time crush has a crush on her too.

she asks if he’s busy, he glances up at the whiteboard “call fridge guy.”

he stammers as he looks at the whiteboard (possibly trying to let her down? try to explain he’s busy?)

claire: “can you just not make this weird? like, i need a favor. my cousin bailed on me.”

why didn’t she call anyone else in the berzatto family to do it (richie or fak)? it seemed like they’re close enough. that has to be because she wanted carmy to do it. it’s pretty naive to ask your crush to do this random task to spend time with them. but is this really naive or manipulative?

claire: “do you still have that van?” carmy: “yes, no we do. we still have that van. um i am in.”

i didn’t notice this the first few times but he looks at the whiteboard twice before agreeing. maybe the first time he thought of his task of calling the fridge guy with the second being sydney and the day he was supposed to have with her.

claire: “really?” carmy: “yeah, yeah really.”

he sounded so unenthusiastic here. like he need to conjure up some form of energy to say it. to be fair, moving boxes isn’t fun at all.

claire: “okay, i’ll text you the address.” carmy: “no. no, i know where it is.” claire: “really? cause i’m worried about your number issue.” carmy: “i know where it is” claire: “you know what, i’ll give my address to fak and then he can give it to you does that sound good? and then punch you in the face does that sound good?”

she keeps talking about the faks and how she’s going to get them to beat him up. is there going to be an argument/showdown with fak (or one of them) in the show at some point?

claire: “you know he uh he told me you guys are really close and he’s your best friend.” carmy: “fak said that?” claire: “mhm.” carmy: “no no no fak’s not my best friend.” claire: “really?” carmy: “no no he is. he’s probably my best friend.” claire: “that’s interesting. to sit with. for you.”

claire saying that was always so weird to me. i couldn’t tell if she, again, was being lighthearted or making fun of him here.

earlier in the episode, carmy is in al anon talking about his family ruining anything that gave him any sort of excitement.

carmy: “i think when i was a kid, anything that would give me any sort of excitement or amusement or enjoyment, it always got kind of fucked. you know, i don’t think my family meant to ruin it or anything like that. you know i don’t think they did it on purpose. i think they sometimes just try too hard. or they make promises they weren’t able to keep.”

i don’t think it was coincidence that the moment he suggested going out with sydney, it got cancelled immediately for helping claire with boxes.

In The Car

after looking at fak, who most likely reminds him of claire, he calls claire to do another task. they're on their way to the post office.

claire: “well, no i’m a terrible driver. i enjoy the risk of it.” carmy: “i should be worried then.” claire: “yeah, really worried.”

is this alluding to carmy being in the passenger seat with claire being doomed? that he shouldn’t be in the car/relationship with her?

what does it mean that carmy is always in the passenger seat with claire (figuratively and literally) but she’s a terrible driver? especially compared to sydney who was a professional driver.

this could be a very direct message to the audience that he should be worried about his relationship with claire.

claire: “i went to med school in new york so i never drove. so, i try to make up for it. the times i’m not working.”

obviously there’s subways in new york, but what if this was trying to tell the audience something else?

didn’t molly say claire might’ve had a previous relationship where she was the one being pushed? there could’ve been a time where she was in the passenger seat just like carmy and she didn’t like how it felt.

the person she was dating always could’ve had a car. i suppose it depends on what part of new york they were living in. maybe they found a way to steer her even with a subway and it made her a figurative passenger. even though this is definitely speculative, i’ll keep it here to reflect back on later.

also what were the writers intention when they made claire go to med school in new york? it seemed like all three: sydney, carmy, and claire were in new york for some pivotal moment. what could have been claire’s pivotal moment in new york? just med school? her past relationship in (potentially) new york? or something else entirely?

why does claire love the risk of it? this could mean claire is a bad driver/pusher. does she love the risk of pushing others? is there another way to interpret this?

after their little task trip, we see that they’re parked in a parking lot.

claire: “we’ve hung out, like, so much but we’ve never actually talked.” carmy: “yeah, yeah i know what you mean.”

it’s strange to think that they’ve hung out a lot but never said anything to the other. especially when you with think on carmy, who was shy, talking about a dream he has with his brother? that’s a pretty personal thing to share with someone if they never talk. something strange is going on there, i just don’t know what it is quite yet.

it gets a little stranger with claire mentioning that she sat behind him in algebra class in freshman year. carmy doesn’t seem to remember that, like he’s completely disconnected/dissociated from her entirely. why is claire remembering all of these things but carmy isn’t? why is she doing all the pushing/driving?

what if she knew about the drawings too? is this another thing mikey mentioned to her? maybe she was trying to slowly ooze it out of him. only to end up disappointed that carmy doesn’t bother to mention it. basically erasing its potential importance to the relationship entirely.

carmy: “i wish you talked to me more.” claire: “i tried. you’re really shy.”

this is what i was talking about earlier. how can he be shy, and talk about something that personal?

what if this is telling us that claire was always a pusher in some aspect? she probably tried a few times and because she didn’t get the response she wanted, she left him alone and ultimately put their potential of a relationship to rest?

a question i brought up earlier:

would carmy do whatever it took to sew his family back together and continue to date someone he didn’t have strong feelings for?

what if this is another version of that? carmy had said here with claire, he liked to think about mikey.

mikey could be the one of the sole keys to keeping the relationship between claire and carmy alive. but will mikey be enough to get him to define that relationship and his feelings? no. and that’s probably what’s devastating. he even said in the s1 finale, carmy realized he doesn’t really know anything about mikey. you could even argue that mikey isn’t that explicitly defined to carmy, similar to claire. he could have even projected a closeness to mikey to make himself feel less alone. he could be doing same projections with claire.

what if he said the words, “i wished you talked to me more” and unconsciously meant them for mikey? carmy was always upset about how mikey closed himself off to him.

i don’t think it was a coincidence that after he said that, he mentions mikey.

carmy: “you always had so many friends. i don’t know, i really wanted that. mikey had that.” claire: “yeah mikey was cool.” carmy: “mikey was cool.” claire: “mikey was cool like he would set something on fire.”

what does this mean? didn’t mikey try to burn down the beef to get insurance money? what prompts someone to say that? to play devils advocate, maybe mikey just gave off that vibe? but wouldn’t we hear it being said from other people? i don’t remember other people describe him this way.

claire: “speaking of dead brothers (mikey), do you wanna go to a party?” wasn’t mikey kind of considered the life of the party?

this could be her attempt to reconnect carmy to him somehow.

claire: “and i feel like you really owe me.”

i’ve already said this, but i definitely think this could’ve pushed him to agree. again, purposeful or naive?

claire: “when’s the last time you went to a party?”

this felt like a those typical/cliche movie moments where the popular girl convinces and takes a shy nerd to a high school party.

The (High School) House Party

in s1e8, carmy talks about mikey’s confidence and his ability to dial any room he walked into.

carmy: “he had this amazing ability. he could just walk into a room, and he could take the temperature of it instantly. he could dial it. i’m not built like that, man. i didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. i had a stutter when i was a kid. i was scared to speak half the time. and, uh, i got shitty grades cause i couldn’t pay attention in school. i didn’t get into college. i didn’t have any girlfriends. i don’t think i’m funny.”

can you miss someone so much and in the result of that grief, they adopt their personality?

we’ve arrived at the house party, with illegal fireworks and solo cups littered around the house. it’s pretty reminiscent of a high school party, even with the police coming to bust/raid the fireworks guy (kyle).

we have claire giving him a soda instead of beer. we’ve never seen carmy drink alcohol in the show. i don’t think the writers have been explicit in how he feels about being around it. but this is relevant for this scene that i will get into later.

after claire gives him an out on staying with her while she’s talking/listening to kelly by asking if he wanted to get kelly some water.

he immediately agrees and we find him in the corner where he looks at claire, almost lost in thought. then he gets bombarded with a random inebriated person calling him logan fernello.

drunk party guy: “you did the amazing shit in senior year. the shit with the spoons.” carmy: “with the spoons.” drunk party guy: “yeah.” carmy: “yeah.”

we cut to carmy telling his made up story to a group of guys. this is when the logan persona really comes into affect. logan telling his story felt very reminiscent to mikey telling the story of seeing/meeting bill murray.

then it struck me, what if this logan persona was really mikey’s? he talked about how mikey could dial into a room. what if this was his attempt at it?

claire: “you’re a real animal, logan.” carmy: “yeah, no the thing about logan is he doesn’t give a fuck. that’s logan.”

what if he was again, unconsciously talking about mikey here? carmy was always insecure about mikey not caring for him, it only got worse when mikey cut him off entirely. with the severed connection, carmy struggled in his attempts to reconnect with him.

carmy: “that was really nice with kelly, you’re really good with that.” claire: “good at what?” carmy: “listening.”

why didn’t he say a similar line “you love taking care of people.” like he did with sydney?

listening could always be potentially surface level. it doesn’t take a lot to listen to someone. with claire, it didn’t seem like she really cared about what kelly was saying. she was just entertaining her to make sure kelly felt better. but it takes more effort to take care of all of the people around you like sydney tends to do. taking care of people takes more passion/drive.

claire: “in college people would come back to my house after parties. and i think i got really good at managing sad drunk people.” carmy: “yeah i know that feeling.” claire: “i know you do.”

this is clear a connection to donna. i can’t help but wonder why claire would think a party is a good idea if he has experience with sad drunk people? maybe because she had past experience too, she naturally started pushing him to do it in the present?

carmy: “i missed this college thing, huh?”

this could be carmy acknowledging unconsciously that he’s just making up for lost time.

claire: “why did you give me a fake number?” carmy: “i like you so much. and i feel like i missed a lot.” claire: “well there was a lot of this.”

we hear the whistle of the fireworks before they start going off once she said, “why did you give me a fake number?”

i think this is another time claire was ever really real with carmy. carmy giving her a fake number clearly hurt her enough to want to know why. she said it in a joking manner when they were on the phone. although, that could have been a (high school) façade to mask her true feelings on it.

during the phone call, she asks him if he really wanted her to have his number. he confirmed he did but it’s clear she sensed something was up because she’s bringing it up again here. that’s why this scene is so fascinating to me. this could imply claire knew he didn’t want to but pursued him anyway. why else would she bring up the number thing again? if she legitimately thought it was a mistake, she wouldn’t have brought it up again.

he smiles a bit but also he also just furrows his brows while looking down, like he can’t come up with the words. this could show he doesn’t like confrontation. he stares off for a bit before he looks at her and says he likes her.

we see the colors of the fireworks reflect on claire as she smiles but i’m not sure if it’s because she likes his words or she’s entertaining his avoidance.

she starts caressing his face. he looks off to the side with a distant look. then, he looks up at her and we see her smile. but when we cut back to carmy, his eyes are already not on her. he’s aimlessly staring to the side once again.

he always looks so dissociated from her touch whether it’s her touch physically or verbally.

they get interrupted from the police so with carmy saying the code word, they run off. claire goes back to kelly briefly and carmy heads for the car.

after claire is done checking on her, she goes back to the car where carmy is outside of it by the passenger side.

carmy: “hey, here’s a crazy idea.” claire: “hit me.” carmy: “you wanna see the restaurant?” claire: “i’d love to.”

we're headed off to the restaurant.

A Restaurant Kiss

after the (high school) house party, carmy invites her to come back to the restaurant. claire accepts, coming onto an argument between richie, nat, and syd.

this is when claire meets sydney, her romantic rival, for the first time.

i always thought it was weird for claire to introduce herself to a family she’s already close to/know. the only person that doesn’t know her is sydney. but why interrupt an entire group argument for that? either that was purposeful or just straight naive. it could have been her attempt at using her introduction as an icebreaker.

in their their kissing scene, they’re over artificial lighting, probably insinuating a fakeness in their relationship.

is it a coincidence they’re kissing in the one place where the past and present intersect?

as i mentioned in the beginning, i have this theory where claire is representative of his past and present. we won’t go that in depth with this until the fishes episode.

“when is fak getting here? does he even have real tools???” does he even have the tools to keep claire and carmy together?

in s2e3, after carmy ditched sydney to help claire’s mother with moving things into storage, we follow sydney at kasama waiting for him, she texts him to ask where he is and that she’s going to order.

in the previous texts we see this conversation:

carmy: fak said he’s on his way sydney: when is fak getting here? does he actually have real tools??? carmy: it’s fak what do you think? sydney: that’s what i thought…

this could be alluding to fak’s tools/meddling aren’t things that will keep claire and carmy together. fak has been a huge role in their relationship. we even have the s3 trailer where fak is at the hospital, telling claire that carmy loves her. but will it help? will it solve anything between them? does fak have the right/real tools to make sure they get back together?

in s2e5, right before they kiss, fak interrupts them. he was waiting for richie on the roof. carmy tries to push him out (an attempt to stop his meddling maybe?)

fak says he needs his tools.

fak: “i love you so much but i need my tools.” carmy: “fuck your tools.” fak: “very well.”

what if this was fak’s attempt to fix the forcefulness/unnaturalness of their relationship metaphorically. this relationship he kept pushing onto them? he could have also been trying to make sure the roof doesn’t cave in, making sure they’re protected from their pretend (high school) reality.

maybe that’s why fak was happy about carmy mentioning claire being with him in the restaurant. he was finally taking control over his relationship for a moment.

fak even said: “i did that.”

he could’ve been happy he didn’t need his tools for them, thinking that they’ll get this happily ever after situation.

i suppose he didn’t realize that they were dead set hurtling towards their doomed relationship.

i wonder if time will only tell who has the true/real tools to have a healthy happily ever after relationship.

The Mention: Fishes

merry christmas, lizards! we’ve made it to the halfway point. it only makes sense that this episode is in the middle of it all because of how integral it is to carmy and claire’s relationship.

fishes is when we start to see things a little more clearly. in this episode, it’s christmas time in the berzatto household. we’re reunited with nat, carmy, and mikey but we also meet new faces.

after nat and mikey have their moment, talking about not asking donna if she’s okay and mikey saying he’ll handle her, carmy comes out the door.

carmy: “hey. hey mikey could you come inside and be you, real quick? i don’t know how to deal with these people.” mikey: “yeah, i’ll be right there.”

i’ve already mentioned how carmy said mikey could dial any room but in this episode it’s almost implied he depended on it. he relied on mikey taking care of the people in the house or just in general. it would make sense that carmy used mikey’s presence to help him with making up the story in the house party. he’s probably just so used to mikey doing it, it made carmy use mikey’s personality as a sense of comfort.

this got me thinking of sydney loving to take care of people. i think it just comes naturally to her. that might’ve been the problem with mikey. he probably did it like it’s a job/chore. but how could he take care of people without taking care of himself? this could’ve led to his doom.

carmy is shifting his feet, probably in anticipation for the day ahead of him.

mikey looks at carmy before glancing down then once he looks off to the side, he tells carmy that he’s happy he’s home.

mikey: “happy you’re home, bear.” carmy: “kill you to pick up the phone?” mikey: “carm, i’m happy you’re home. okay?”

carmy, still shifting his feet, nods and looks down. it’s clear that being ignored by mikey hurts him. at this point in their relationship, it’s fairly strained. it most likely only got more strained after this christmas.

after some silence, natalie says she’s not going to ask donna if she’s okay and asks carmy if he could handle her. he agrees.

natalie: “i’m not going to ask her if she’s okay.” mikey: “that’s good.” natalie: “yeah.” natalie: “carm, will you handle mom?” carmy: “yeah, i’ll handle her.”

with that, we’re off into christmas chaos.

even though claire isn’t in the episode physically, she’s very much with them in spirit. we won’t be focusing on the episode in its entirety because we’re only focusing on claire and clairecarmy.

regardless if she isn’t there, claire is a pivotal character/role to carmy’s character in this episode. we’ll be going through the possible connections i’ve made and this past/present theory that will be used throughout the rest of this meta.

after we meet donna, carmy walks out the kitchen to most likely take a break. unfortunately for him, he gets bombarded by mikey and richie.

mikey: “merry fucking chrismas, bro.” carmy: “what?” mikey: “merry fucking christmas.” carmy: “what do you mean? guys, don’t fuck with me right now.” richie: “no one is fucking with you!” mikey: “why would you think that?” carmy: “cause your always fucking with me, that’s why i fucking think that. what do you mean?” richie: “you’re not gonna fucking believe who we just saw.” mikey: “we’re trying to tell you we ran into the love of your fucking life.” carmy: “i don’t have a love of my life.”

i thought this was interesting because of how much time has probably passed since he’s last seen claire. it would make sense that he wasn’t really thinking of her much since she was just a high school crush. maybe he thought about her in passing, but it’s not unbelievable to think he hasn’t really thought of her since.

richie: “just fucking tell him.” mikey: “claire bear.” richie: “claire bear!” carmy: “you saw claire?”

in this scene, richie and mikey sound like they’re trying to sell a car. just a lot of exposition that doesn’t really have substance when you’re trying to tell someone about a potential love interest. they make it sound like claire and carmy getting together is a must because of her looks. just hearing this dialogue alone made me feel very overwhelmed. i can’t imagine being in carmy’s shoes.

carmy: “what did you do? what did you do? what did you do?” richie: “this is a once in a million opportunity for you to score with a woman that’s stacked physically and mentally.” carmy: “you’re having a child. what the fuck? why are you talking like that?”

it is a pretty crazy thing to say isn’t it?, and having a daughter too?! does richie and mikey truly believe there’s no other woman out there? this is when i started messing with the idea that they’re selling this idea for carmy to stay at home.

isn’t it fascinating that richie ends up being put in this position where it feels easy for him to use claire as a projection because of his own failed marriage?

mikey: “it’s done.” carmy: “who asked you to do that though? that’s what i’m saying.” mikey: “it’s a christmas gift. i fucking put in a good word. i told her about napa about copen, she ate that shit up.” carmy: “nobody asked you to do that.”

what if mikey was talking him up to claire because it was his way to get carmy to stay in chicago? or knowing what he was going to do, wanted to give him something that he contributed to one last time?

i talked about it in my pushing meta that carmy could have not liked being pushed but went with it anyway. carmy in this scene very clearly didn’t enjoy the meddling/pushing. that could be why with claire, he welcomes it because he’s used to it in some kind of way.

also does claire and carmy ever really talk about his endeavors? mikey told her all about it but they seem to only talk about it a little. i remember in the house party, they talked about it briefly before claire cut it off with her question on why he gave her a fake number. even in the restaurant, i don’t remember him talking about it there. am i missing something here? how come the one thing that possibly had a massive contribution to their relationship, is never talked about?

stevie: “she’s a deeply good person. i could see why you’re in love with her.” carmy: “i’m not in love with her though. that’s what i’m saying. where did you guys get this from that i’m in love with her?” richie: “cause you used to have all those drawings!” carmy: “that’s what i’m fucking talking about though. that’s what i’m talking about. that’s what i’m saying! that’s why i think you’re fucking with me.”

was it implied that carmy actually never had a crush on claire? carmy is already considered strange to his family. if i’m right then it isn’t out of the realm of possibility that carmy genuinely just enjoyed drawing her without much else being into it. what if they misinterpreted his drawings for feelings he never had? what if he was entertaining the idea of them together (reimagining their high school days) because mikey would have wanted it?

you don’t necessarily need feelings for the person you’re inspired by. i could be mistaken here but i’ll leave it in the meta anyway for reflection.

another thought is that he could have had a crush but there’s nothing more there. a crush is just an infatuation, you’re more in love with the idea of them rather than the person themselves. that’s probably another potential reason why he genuinely had a problem with them telling him he’s in love with her.

stevie: “carm, this is a good thing.”

in my theory about claire and carmy, i had this thought of them being conduits.

carmy is a conduit for the audience to feel his presence, emotions, and for us to see the world around him in the present.

claire is a conduit of the past, being easily projected onto by mikey, richie, and fak to bring up resurfaced feelings from the past (carmy’s old crush, his claire sketches, his high school presence etc.) and carmy could use her to fall back in time. in a time where mikey is alive or his presence is more felt. this could also explain why they were frozen in time once they met. and it worked briefly but for how long? is something like this sustainable?

we won’t be focusing on the bear drawing with mikey in it’s entirety but i made a possible connection here to what i said earlier.

carmy: “i don’t need you talking to claire and acting all nice if you don’t actually give a fuck, you know?” mikey: “what are you talking about, i don’t get a fuck? why would you say that to me? carmy, i give, like, i give like a huge fuck.” carmy: “yeah?” mikey: “fuck yeah! i give like the biggest fuck.”

this seems to parallel last episode’s dialogue regarding logan.

here’s what i said:

carmy: “yeah, no the thing about logan is he doesn’t give a fuck. that’s logan.” what if he was again, unconsciously talking about mikey here? carmy was always insecure about mikey not caring for him, it only got worse when mikey cut him off entirely. with the severed connection, carmy struggled in his attempts to reconnect with him.

i just thought it was a strange coincidence. claire could potentially be channeling these feelings onto carmy and remind him constantly of the past. one thing to remember is that claire and carmy's relationship seem to always go back to the fishes episode.

finally, we meet donna in this episode/meta.

she’s crying in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette. people are sitting at the dinner table wondering when she’ll come. carmy comes into the kitchen to check on her and donna goes into how no one cares for her.

donna: “i don’t think i can do this by myself anymore.” carmy: “you’re not by yourself alright?i’m right here. i’m with you.” donna: “nobody out there gives a shit about me. carmy: “that’s not true. mom, that’s not true, we all love you so much.” donna: “i had to beg you to come home.” carmy: “i’m happy to be here, okay?”

this could potentially fit into my thought that mikey was trying to keep him in chicago to get claire and him together. if mikey takes care of donna, maybe this is a way to get carmy to be there for donna too in a way. this is a very speculative thought that i’ll just leave here.

carmy: “why, um, what’s hard, mom? what is it?” donna: “i make things beautiful for them and no one makes things beautiful for me.”

let’s go back to the previous episode for a second. claire is comforting kelly on the couch with carmy on the side.

claire: “you deserve better. well, no one’s ever made me dinner before.”

i don’t know for sure if this is a coincidence but it’s another strange parallel that needs to be shared. as i said before, claire and carmy’s relationship seem to always go back to fishes.

anyway, let’s proceed with the fishes episode.

carmy: “why don’t you just give me your hand, we’ll go sit.” donna: “no.” carmy: “mom, come on.” donna: “i’ll go in a minute.” carmy: “alright, i’ll just wait.” donna: “okay, micheal. i’ll be there in a minute.”

carmy gets this strange disassociated look. he's staring off before blinking a bit and looking down. i had to play this multiple times but she does call him mikey strangely. mothers do tend to switch up the names of their children at times but this felt a bit intentional on the writer's part.

after asking if donna is good, which seems to parallel sydcarmy with asking if the other is good, donna demands him to go sit at the table. carmy wants to wait for her but she isn’t budging and even asked if they had a problem. he shakes his head in denial and donna goes to hug him. we watch them hug for a moment before donna pulls back and slaps him.

this is when it all kind of clicked together for me in this shot.

when claire started caressing carmy’s face at the house party, it felt familiar to something else but i couldn’t quite put my finger on it until watching this episode. they’re both in the kitchen. they both led to a confrontation of sorts. they both (potentially) have mikey in the conversation. they’re both shot in this warm hue.

what were the writers intent here? does claire remind him of his mother?

is carmy avoiding claire in s3 the way he’s avoiding donna?

Morning After: Back In The Present

in al anon s2e3, carmy talks about how he has to remind himself that there’s no other shoe.

carmy: “(have to) remind myself that the sky is not falling. that, um, there is no other shoe. which is incredibly difficult because there’s always another shoe.”

it’s morning in carmy’s apartment and he is on the counter top, looking in the distance. claire comes around and they talk for a moment about the suppression test briefly (which is also connected to mikey) but after he has this interesting look. he smiles at her but he stares at her and (possibly) really sees her for the first time.

claire: “what?”

her smile kind of drops here too. his eyebrows furrow like he’s trying to find something but he’s lost. he always had this disassociated gaze with her but here it almost seemed like he’s finally trying to make a connection and couldn’t find it compared to when i said earlier about him (possibly) cutting the connection on purpose. he looks down and starts to apologize.

carmy: “i’m really sorry. i just um-” claire: “never ever apologize.”

this piece of dialogue is very glaring. claire could have meant well but telling someone to never apologize is such a red flag. especially, when you go back an episode and see that the berzatto family says i love you instead of apologizing it seems. (their relationship seem to always go back to fishes)

carmy: “i just want you to know that this is really nice. so nice that i um.” claire: “you’re waiting for the other shoe.” carmy: “that’s it.” claire: “wanna know a secret?” carmy: “yes.” claire: “nobody’s keeping track of shoes.”

why didn’t she say there isn’t another shoe? or there’s no shoes at all? instead, she said nobody is keeping track of them. what does that mean? for me, my interpretation for this was time. “nobody’s keeping track of time.”

in s1e8, carmy talks about how he lost track of time and mikey died.

carmy: “and the more he wouldn’t respond and the more our relationship kinda strained, the deeper into this i went and the better i got. and the more people i cut out, the quieter my life got. and the routine of the kitchen was so consistent and exacting and busy and hard and alive and i lost track of time and he died.”

i could be right on the shoe/time theory.

claire: “anything else you’re thinking?” carmy: “i’m thinking you’re very, very beautiful.”

more surface level compliments instead of anything that reaches emotional intimacy they need. she shakes her head and he nods. i can’t help but wonder if she was waiting for an i love you from him. at this point she had to have felt something to say it by the s2 finale. she still smiles as if she’s entertaining his avoidance like at the house party.

claire: “well break a leg, bear.”

now, i have many questions for this but all i’ll say is that it’s extremely strange to think back on who calls the other bear. isn’t it the berzatto siblings?! why is she calling him a nickname his siblings call each other? what was the writer's intention here? what was claire trying to say here?

The Uneaten Meal

there’s no dialogue in this scene so this section will be extremely short.

we see that carmy is wearing the beef shirt, something he’s never worn from what i remember. it definitely fits the narrative of what i said earlier about being in a time where mikey (or his presence) was alive.

i even mentioned how he could be adopting some of his behavior from mikey.

i also found it ironic that claire and carmy seems to have these connections with mikey but the moment he talks about his love for her to fak, “i love you, dude. let it rip,” was sent to sydney for approval.

and why wouldn’t she eat his meal that he slaved over? was she just so excited, she couldn’t wait anymore?

this is a great parallel to carmy making sydney a dish, without knowing and it being the best she’s ever had.

there’s still artificial lighting surrounding them. which could be interpreted as a fakeness in their relationship i mentioned earlier.

this is most likely the last scene where reality hasn’t set in for both of them. they’re still stuck in this place/time.

The (Warning) Panic Attack

his panic attack were the final warning bells that he couldn’t hide in the past forever. because in the end, it will all come to the surface/present. maybe claire and carmy’s reunion was the first shoe and his panic attack was the other.

the filter they have on her here reminded me of the fireworks that were reflecting back on them at the house party. fireworks in literature represents short-lived entities.

fireworks symbolism in liturature on google:

fireworks are short-lived entities; they are unimpressive before they are lit, and though dazzling while in action, they go up, explode, and are gone within a matter of seconds.

has anyone else noticed donna and claire were side by side during the panic attack the moment we get to the scene where claire is caressing his face at the house party? the same one i said how strangely it seemed to parallel each other?

in the panic attack, after the scene with claire caressing his face, it jumps straight to donna screaming. coincidence?

i have the full panic attack scene in my “carmy’s panic attack” meta so i’ll link it here for you to go watch it.

which is striking because the slap comes back in this scene but notice how it isn’t in this as saturated as the others? In fact, this scene doesn’t look the way it did in fishes. once donna slaps him we cut straight to sydney with even less saturation. he takes a breath.

in al anon (s2e3), carmy talks about how he has to remind himself to be present.

carmy: “i have to remind myself to breathe sometimes. i have to remind myself to be present, you know.”

donna’s slap could be a “wake up” moment before the present and future comes into view. then we see who that is: sydney.

sydney is representative of his present and future.

which could explain why sydney and carmy have that moment under the table claire ate at. why the music was in reverse before donna slapped him in the panic attack. it could represent time finally resuming.

what i said earlier:

he also said in the s1 finale, carmy realized he doesn’t really know anything about mikey.

which could also parallel the panic attack scene, it could be interpreted as him probably realizing he doesn’t even really have strong feelings for claire.

Breakup By A Restaurant Fridge

his panic attack was the warning and now time is up. when the clock resumed, after it got frozen in time from their first meeting, the past rushed into the surface and started to clash together.

the moment he hears that it was claire’s table, he leaves sydney, who is the present he needs. he ends up falling right back in time to claire’s table.

while carmy serves her his current food, she serves him a reminder of the past (his old boss from new york).

seeing his old boss causes him to freeze. he ends up going back to sydney with the reminder in his brain. He notices the seven fishes are cold, a family dish from the past on the current menu, and he snaps on sydney and even stumble over his words (possibly his past stutter coming back).

ultimately he asks syd to refire/warm him up. she tells him he needs to watch it, a warning to stay here in the present with her. he stills for a moment/melt, and he calms down similar to how he starts to take a breath once he saw sydney in his mind during his panic attack. he apologizes for his behavior. she apologizes as well. he leaves only to end up stuck in the fridge, another reminder of his past with claire in choosing to not call the fridge guy/not go out with sydney.

claire will channel him the past into the present, the one thing he can’t afford. It left him trapped in the fridge (a full circle moment/parallel to the fridge where they met). instead of outside of it this time, he’s inside of one where time stops to hear the past words of claire from that present day on a voicemail: i love you.

i always thought that it was weird that claire left carmy after hearing his words in the freezer. she’s a doctor, wouldn’t she want to remain there to make sure her (ex) boyfriend would live?

maybe she was so overwhelmed with his words, she couldn’t handle hearing more? at this point, everything is a mystery.

coincidentally, once she left the fridge, richie went over and called him donna. how many coincidences until it isn’t a coincidence?

in this episode, he reminded me of mikey in those moments. in the fishes episode, mikey and carmy share this very heartbreaking scene where carmy shows his sketch of the bear, the dream they both wanted. after mikey encourages him, carmy leaves in excitement. we’re left with mikey who ends up slapping himself, making the audience to deduce his suffering from his addiction.

carmy was seeing his old boss and mikey seemed to be hearing things (maybe street sounds?) in both scenes. coincidentally, carmy was hearing mikey during his panic attack before the images of food calmed him down in the s1 finale. which further explains the beef shirt carmy wore as he was making claire pasta. throughout this, he could have been trying to adopt mikey’s personality because of how much he missed him or doing it unconsciously.

then we get the parallel where we have a moment with them not being in their right mind which causes carmy to stare at the cannolis with a fork stuck into them and claire leaning on the fridge in tears.

the bear sketch and claire were also in the panic attack scene. carmy stopped communicating with syd which annoyed her the same way carmy got annoyed with mikey not communicating with him.

all could be speculation, but i think there’s something here.

in the fishes episode, we hear this story of richie and mickey’s morning after.

mikey: “things are really starting to spiral out of fucking control.” richie: “oh, we are past the point of no return.” mikey: “it’s not good. and now it’s the next morning right? we’re like fucking rocked.” richie: “rocked!” mikey: “like, i look over at him, i’m like, well jesus fucking christ man.” richie: “i’m looking at you and i don’t even recognize you at that point.” mikey: “it’s like a monster.” richie: “yeah cause you look like a fucking monster. couldn’t even tell it was you.”

this might be connected to s3 carmy.

Overall Conclusion/Questions

i’m going to talk about yannaryartside’s post a bit and try to find some kind of middleground and raise questions to conclude this post.

quoted from yannaryartside’s post:

“It is not like it is bad for Carmen to socialize and whatever. But she removed his agency completely; it feels like manipulation on many levels because she has perceived a lot of his struggle in this area; she also ignored his first reaction to going to the party and flipped her way. Carmy ended up trapped with a lot of immature young adults with whom he definitely has nothing in common. There was no space for actual empathy or connection to him to "come out of his shell." His conversations with Sydney are so natural because of this; there is connection and mutual respect, and he was very out of his shell with her.”

if i didn’t read molly’s interview, i would be ironclad that this was very purposeful on claire’s part to rope him in making him something he’s not. although, since making this meta, i’ve been trying to look at this with a little more nuance with my attempt at neutrality with her character and the topic of manipulation.

as i mentioned in my pushing meta, her offputting words could definitely push him to agree with her and let her take the wheel with him in the passenger seat (literally and figuratively)

but i couldn’t help but think about it from another perspective. i talked about mikey, richie, and fak’s lack of boundaries and how it ultimately could be something both claire and carmy don’t really understand where/when the line is crossed. they both just go along with it because that’s what they’re used to.

claire: “and i feel like you really owe me.”

that line could definitely be easily avoided on her part. it didn’t need to be said but that could have been the push that caused him to go like every other moment they ever had in regards to claire convincing him to do tasks with her.

if anything, that constant acceptance concerns me. if carmy continues to be stripped of his agency during his relationship with claire, how much did her previous relationship take from her to influence this?

how much did she learn from them? how many constant (reluctant) acceptances did she grant before they departed? when was the limit? claire’s relationship history is so vague that she could have been in that previous relationship long term and got out of it right on time for christmas. we definitely need clarification on that.

what if she barely had boundaries so she doesn’t expect it from carmy?

if she’s never learned boundaries, then who are three men that could use her for potential projection? in the end, it seems like it all goes back to fishes.

another question is, how much responsibility do you think claire should have for his lack of agency?

maybe she reverts to this immature (high school) persona because rather than admit to the pushing she might not have liked, like potentially carmy, she pushes him because she saw herself through him. remember when i said carmy is a conduit for the present? but is that manipulative or naive on her part?

the reality of it all could be, they were both just trying to entertain the others past in the present. but how could you be in the present without healing from the past?

that’s why they were frozen in time. they can’t move forward from their past when they’re together. carmy and claire’s relationship was a temporary balm where they could push their past onto each other while they relive/reimagine their high school years.

i just don’t think they realized time will always come knocking on your door eventually.

all of this to say, i don’t know what the writers are smoking over there but i might have gotten into some of their stash by accident.

i guess the other important questions throughout this analysis is how do you feel about claire? how do you feel about her after this meta? what’s next for her character in s3?

thank you to anyone who read this! i’m a perfectionist so i had to rewatch all the scenes i mentioned here over and over again to make sure i got the dialogue correct. sorry this was so long too. i hope this all made sense! my brain was going down this continuous spiral while writing. hopefully that isn’t easily conveyed here lmao. all my metas make me feel so delusional like i’m a paranoid investigator. where’s that red thread?!

feel free to respond or disagree with me!

#sydney is his present and future #long read ahead #might have to retitle this to the claire bear dissertation #feel free to link any discussions/metas on claire or clairecarmy in the reblogs #i’d love to read them all!#sydcarmy meta #sydcarmy #claire bear #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #the bear meta #the bear fx #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney #claire x carmy #clairecarmy

52 notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 7 hours

Text

demonyo — ryomen sukuna.

For the first time in a long time, you see beyond Sukuna’s stoic exterior, glimpsing the depth of his emotions beneath the surface. It's a revelation that leaves you reeling, realizing just how much he has come to rely on your presence in his life, whether he admits it or not.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Miscarriage, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Miscarriage, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Pseudo-Incest, Adoptive Cousins, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language, Smut, Detailed Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Sexual Foreplay, Sexual Penetration, Consensual Sex;

masterlist

ashes of love

song: demonyo by juan karlos

ko-fi

note: i already pre-planned the writing for this for a while now, but i think the story is about to get worse now that its near its end. three more chapters before my favorite chapter in the series and probably the shortest??? we shall see. anyway, i love you!!! enjoy the story as always~

MUCH HAD CHANGED FOR YOU. But you doubt that you would dare change anything about it. As you released the sigh you held for what seemed like years, your purple eyes seemed to shake as you tried to make sense of your reality. It had been more than ten years since you last saw Sukuna. Ten years since he had left you and your world. Ten years more as mother, wife, clan leader, consort — all the things you had not expected all those years ago. All these things you still were, all these things you suffer to be.

You looked to your side and felt your eyes narrow in a somber manner. You hadn’t left the lord’s chambers in days now. You just could not bear to do it. Not when Suzaku needed you. You sit in your husband’s chambers for days on end, tending to him as he lay there in painful agony. These days, you think your husband is waiting for fall. He stares from his futon with those weary eyes, hoping for that day where the leaves would be dying, just like himself.

You look at him worriedly as you squeezed the water out of the cloth. You turned to him and started to gently press the wet cloth to his body and slowly clean his body, for he is now unable to move. He had good days, where he could sit up well enough to read or eat. But most times, you read reports to him. And your son’s progress in training.

It was hard to see how constrained Suzaku was by the pain and anguish. Most days, it was easier not to look at him. Most days, you wished you could take a moment to process everything. But you knew you couldn’t. You could not leave him to the whims of his pain. Even when he asks you to, you could not. He had been nothing but good to you. He had given you peace, with everything he had done in nearly twenty years of marriage. And even this you were was not enough to repay all he had done for you and your children.

These past ten years have been relatively peaceful for all of you. The war weighed down to skirmishes and occasional battles. The Zenin were not to end their wanting and the Kamo were not one to forget a slight. The Fujiwara had moved from both the Ryomen lands and their own, having been incinerated as a clan by Sukuna.

As you continue to tend to him, memories of Sukuna flood your mind. The last time you saw him, his presence had been a dark shadow over your life. Yet, in the decade that followed, you had found moments of light amidst the darkness. You had rebuilt, you had nurtured, and you had loved fiercely. Hida is back in Ryomen control and over this decade, your leadership has grown the Ryomen back to its power.

But you were not a fool to forget that you now share it in a quiet agreement with Sukuna. These ten years, he had built a shrine on the opposite side of Hida, and people had flocked to him by the hundreds. He had the name after all and that gives him legitimacy across Hida. You knew very well that his Jujutsu….does not compare to anyone. And more than ever, growing powerful every single day.

The agreement with Sukuna, though uneasy, had held. You did not seek him out, and neither did he. You knew better than that as much as he did. He had killed more sorcerers than you could count. And your world of sorcerers would not take to that kindly. They never have. Deviants are shunned. They are nothing but the fallen ones and these days, they whisper about him being the ‘disgraced one’. The remaining Ryomen elders had been glad to get rid of him, yapping about how this saves the clan from ruin. You did not agree with them. Even after all this time. But you knew that you can never take back what was lost. You were no fool. And neither was he.

When you were not in Hida, you were in Gojo lands. Ghosts haunted you, but at the very least you could distract yourself from them. With your husband’s efforts, there could only be peace. And with that peace, your children have grown up well and happy, surrounded by a bubble that keeps them from the worldly affairs that they need not worry over.

Your eldest, Seiryuu, was now four and ten, nearly a man to all that were around him. He had grown taller than ever before. You were certain that he would grow and tower over those around him. His powers had grown over the years, more than ever this past year — obsessively. Masako had grown finely, with her dark hair echoing like shining charcoal. In only ten summers, she had grown to be quite a beautiful tender young girl. You kept her away from Jujutsu a little while longer, but her cursed technique had started to manifest little by little.

You gently wipe your husband’s brow with a damp cloth, feeling the heat of his fever through the fabric.This was a regular occurrence, one that had only increased his pain and discomfort. At first, you were concerned and you still were — but even with your efforts, his fevers would not leave him. This had become a new part of his life.

Suzaku’s once-strong hands now lie limply at his sides, the strength that had carried you through so many battles now drained away. The same hands that had held yours in your hardest times, the hands that had held yours at each birth, the hands that had carried your children. His warm eyes, though clouded with pain, still hold a flicker of the determination that once defined him. You could see his will to live. He does not want to leave yet, you knew. Not until Seiryuu was old enough.

You could only sigh as you returned the damp cloth back into the basin. From the outside, life continues. The sounds of children playing in the distance, the chatter of villagers going about their day, and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze all seem to mock the stillness within these walls. Your husband had lived for those echoes of life when he himself could not get up. He says that it reminds him of when your children were younger. It reminds him to live, to know life.

"Rest some more, husband." you whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. "You must gather your strength. The children miss you.”

You could feel his eyes, though dimming, reflect a deep sense of peace in your words. It has been hard to keep the children away from your husband. You did not want them to see him in pain and he knows that too well too. But the mention of them makes him want to live. It always does. You know he worries about leaving you and the children behind, but you have always been strong. Stronger than you ever thought possible.

As your husband’s breathing grows more labored, you feel the weight of all you have endured together. The battles fought, the tears shed, and the laughter shared. The peace you had enjoyed with your children together. You take a hold of his sullen hands and squeeze it, your tears mingling with the sweat on his skin. You want him to know that you will be here.

"We will be alright, Suzaku." you say, more to reassure yourself than him. "We will be alright."

In the silence that follows, you exchange looks. His ever tender, as it always was.The world outside may continue to change, but within these chambers, time stands still, suspended in what time remains for the two of you. You find solace in this moment. Or at least you can try. The worries of the wily world keep knocking you down to only worry.

But you could not help but worry. You were a mother more than anything else. Your husband’s condition loomed over all of you. And the possibility that he could die any time soon, when your son was still but a boy and without the expertise of his father worried you. And your husband knew that. Much of the consequences of his death would be a blow to you and your children.

A year ago, your perfectly healthy husband had brought your son with him to quell a cursed spirit that was plaguing the region. Your son was excited to be able to put his skills to the test, to make his father proud. Seiryuu was proficient in using his powers enough that he was able to fight against the cursed spirit’s lackeys. However, being overtaken by a flood of other curses, he did not notice his father’s need for aid. And your husband took the curse's full impact. From that moment on, your husband started to decline. Seiryuu had felt nothing but guilt over the matter.

The people of the clan started to whisper about his ability to be the heir. If Seiryuu could not protect his father, how can he protect the clan? The boy with the six-eyes and he could not do his duty, his most important filial duty. Those are their whispers. And it breaks your heart over and over. But your son was only a fourteen-year-old boy. He was still a boy—even if the world saw him as a grown man. And you feared for him.

Factions have started to appear in the Gojo clan, including that of Suzaku’s own cousin. If the time came to fight for your son’s rights, you knew that you could be overwhelmed. The voice in your head started to tempt you to use your powers, whispering that you could defeat all the clans by yourself, with destruction. But you vowed to never do that. You didn’t seek the destruction of all, but peace. The voice laughs at you, telling you that this train of thought will get you killed. You do not reply.

As you tend to your husband, you glance at Seiryuu, standing at the doorway, his shoulders slumped. You could see the boy in him so clearly. He felt that heavy weight of guilt and worry. He looks so much older than his years, burdened by the weight of expectations and the whispers of the clan.

He lowers the tight cloak of those bandages around his eyes. His cerulean eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see the frightened child he truly is, hidden behind the mask of forced maturity. Your husband looks at you and nods at you. You narrow your eyes at him, as though telling him that you could not leave you. But he squeezes your hand. You purse your lips and nod at him. You turned to a servant and smiled at them.

Closing the door behind you, you take your son in your arms to embrace him. He slowly succumbs to your touch. He felt so small in your arms, as though he was not the one who had shaken the world with his birth. He was just a boy, a boy who had so much of his youth ahead of him. And he is robbed of it by the world which does not understand. You kiss the top of his head with tender abandon.

"Mother….I…." he says softly, his voice trembling. "Is Father... will he...?"

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Your father is strong, my son. He fights for us, for you. We must be strong for him too.”

Seiryuu nods, but you can see the doubt in his cerulean blue eyes. He blames himself for his father's condition, and the clan's murmurs only deepen his self-reproach. He does not feel confident in himself, to truly be worthy of his father’s seat. To be worthy of even being his son. You could see it in his eyes. And you hate it. You wish you could shield him from their harsh judgments, but you know that he must face this trial as you have faced your own.

"Remember, my dearest boy," you say, your voice firm but gentle, "you are not alone. We stand together, as a family, as a clan. You will grow stronger, and you will prove them wrong. You are already worthy. Your father has told you that.”

“But mother, I….”

You shake your head at him, looking him in his eyes. You smile. “You are our pride, my son. Always remember that.”

He nods again, more resolute this time, but the worry does not leave his eyes. “I will remember.”

“You must go and get some rest.” You whisper, squeezing his shoulder. “I heard you were up all night trying to master your reversal technique.”

“I am fine, mother.” He insists as he tries to wipe your worry with his smile. “Not entirely exhausted as of yet. I plan to go and continue—”

“I don’t want you to cause yourself hurt.” You interject to him. “I want my son well. Please rest for a while at least. Soothe your mother.”

He purses his lips, almost like a child. He slowly nods. “Alright, mother.”

When he left, you return to your husband’s chambers. You turn back to your husband, sitting down beside him and wiping his brow once more. The voice in your head grows louder, taunting you with promises of power and control. It tells you that with your abilities, you could crush all opposition, and ensure Seiryuu's place as heir beyond any doubt.

But you push the voice away, focusing on your husband and your son. You have vowed to seek peace, not destruction. Even if it means facing overwhelming odds, even if it means standing against the very whispers that threaten your family, you will not falter. You will not give in.

The voice laughs again, mocking your resolve. "This train of thought will get you killed, little fool." it hisses.

You do not reply. Instead, you draw strength from the loyalty you have for your husband and the love you have for your children, from the hope that despite the challenges, you can still find a path to peace. You will stand firm, for them, for the future you believe in. And no matter what the voice says, you will not be swayed.

Suzaku has fallen asleep again.

You place the wet towel away.

You sit patiently, as you always do.

And you pray to the gods for your relief.

IT WAS A NICE DAY OUT. It was one of his good days, and he had been cheerful. Suzaku had enough strength to sit up and talk. When he sat up, he looked at you and smiled. He pointed towards the outside. You worried about the strain on his body. But you could not deny him such pleasure, to explore your home. You hooked his arm around your own as you helped him up. When servants passed you, you refused their help. You could help your husband there. Little by little, you helped him take a walk towards the vast expanse of the koi gardens.

As the two of you strolled among the greenery around the serene waters and the swimming koi, the sun was shining. The sun was beaming like never before. It was a good day, you think. It was not too cold, just warm enough. And your husband was in good spirits. For the first time in a while, you could see life in his eyes once again. The smile on your lips tethered tenderly.

Gojo Suzaku sits down on one of the edges of the benches. You gently hold him as you too lower your body and sit beside him. You sighed as you let the wind kiss your face with great abandon. When you turn to your side, your husband smiles at you too. But the look in his eyes tells you that he can feel it—that he would soon die. You want to tell him not to leave you. You want to tell him that he would live a long life. But you know that he would only laugh.

Your husband then coughs, the sound harsh and grating. You look at him with concern, and he smiles at you, a weary but warm expression. He waves you off as your eyes dilate in panic. He squeezes your hand and tries to settle you back into a calm.

“You worry too much.” His first words echoed in your head. It had been so long since you had heard his words be this clear.

“I can’t help it.” You admitted to him as you let out a sigh. “I am your wife. And a wife worries about her husband.”

"Don't worry, my love," he says softly, his voice still tinged with humor despite the gravity of his words. “I’m not feeling too bad.”

“Your coughing is still painful to you.”

“Not too bad.” He says, downplaying it with a smile. “It’s not bad.”

You glare at him. “You are a pathetic liar.”

He laughs in reply. “It is not a lie. It’s not bad, because you’re here.”

You couldn’t help but shrug at him. “Nearly twenty years of marriage and you have not changed.”

He smiles. "Has it been that long?”

You hummed to him as the wind brushed against you. “Hm, it has been.”

“It feels only like yesterday when we got married.”

You smiled at him. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Silence enveloped the two of you, a heavy shroud that settled between you like an unspoken barrier. Suzaku's gaze lingered on the horizon, his eyes following the graceful flight of a heron as it soared effortlessly through the sky. The sight seemed to capture his attention, drawing him into a moment of quiet contemplation amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling around you both. The heron wanted to be free.

In the stillness of the night, the sound of the heron's wings slicing through the air echoed softly, a soothing melody that provided a brief respite from the weight of the world pressing down upon your shoulders. It was as if time itself had paused, allowing you to simply be, to exist in this moment of serene tranquility.

“I've had a good life, thanks to you."

You shake your head, refusing to accept his resignation. "Husband, please. You mustn't talk like that. You'll be with us for many more years."

He gently squeezes your hand, his touch as familiar and comforting as ever. "We both know that's not true. But it's alright. I’ve come to terms with it."

A lump forms in your throat as you watch him, the man who has been your rock and your partner through so much. "I can't lose you, not yet." you whisper, your voice trembling.

"I know you have worries about the growing divide in the Gojo clan," he says, his voice softer now, "and I worry that, unlike all these years before, I cannot be as strong as before to protect the three of you from it.”

"You have done more than enough, Suzaku." you reply, your voice firm with conviction. "You always have."

He pauses, looking out over the garden, his eyes distant with memories. "Do you remember, years ago, when I told you that Sukuna and I spoke?”

You nod, the memory bringing a bittersweet smile to your lips. “You never told me what you talked about.”

“Sukuna told me to be more honest about my feelings for you.” He reveals, watching your face contort into a puddle of emotions. “And all this time, I should have been more honest with you.”

Suzaku reaches out, brushing your loose hair back behind your ear. "I love you, wife." he says, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than the world knows, more than you do."

"I love you too. I hope you know." you respond, your voice breaking.

He smiles, shaking his head gently. "I know you will never love me as much as you do Sukuna. But I’m more than satisfied with the wonderful life we have had together. Nearly twenty years of a happy marriage—I am thankful for all of it. Because you took care of me, accepted me for what I was. You loved a man whole, made more of his life than anything else.”

You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your cheek. Your eyes narrow, their color deepening to an even more intense shade of purple. "You’ve given me a life I never thought possible, Suzaku. I’ve cherished every moment."

He closes his eyes, savoring the closeness, the tranquility of the garden surrounding you. "Promise me you'll continue to be strong, for Seiryuu, for our family."

"I promise," you whisper, your voice thick with unshed tears.

Suzaku opens his eyes, looking at you with a depth of love and understanding that transcends words. "Thank you," he murmurs. "For everything."

You stay like that for a while, leaning into each other, drawing strength from the bond you share. The koi swim lazily in the pond, their movements a gentle reminder of the cycles of life and the beauty that can be found even in moments of sadness. You sighed as you leaned against him. He smiles as he lays a kiss upon your cheek.

As the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the garden, you and Suzaku stay that way for as long as you could. The two of you just enjoy the silence that remains in the veil of the golden light. You were certain that the weight of the future looms large, but in this moment, you find solace seeing him like this. You banish the world from everything else. You just sit there with him. You take in what remains before it’s too late. And with that, you fell asleep beside him.

The next day, it was quite a surprise to you. Gojo Suzaku was still as he was yesterday, his frailty more pronounced in the morning light. You sit up beside him, holding his hand as he gathers the strength to speak. You wanted to say something, but you could see it, how he wanted to say something to you. And so you sat there, silent and let him gather his strength to say it all out loud.

“You must leave for Hida tomorrow.”

Your face scrunches into confusion. “Why must we leave for Hida–”

“Live on after me, wife.” Suzaku says softly, his voice filled with a quiet determination. “Take care of the children, and most of all, find happiness when I am gone.”

Tears well up in your eyes, but you manage to keep your voice steady. “Don’t talk like that, Suzaku. You'll still be with us for a long time yet.”

He shakes his head gently, a sad smile on his lips. “I’ve made plans to ensure that Seiryuu will be my successor. No one will challenge him.”

“It’s not as easy as you say, husband.” you reply, your concern evident. “The clan is divided. There are factions, and Seiryuu is still so young.”

“It will be easy.” Suzaku insists, squeezing your hand with the little strength he has left. “Leave it all to me. I’ve arranged everything.”

“Suzaku, please—”

"You don’t have to worry," he says with a reassuring smile. "I’ve taken care of everything."

"But whatever you’re planning, I cannot accept it." you reply, your voice firm. "We have to do it together. As we always have.”

Suzaku sighs and places a gentle kiss upon your head. "This is my last wish, you know." he says softly. "Please, let me do as I please."

Your lips fall into a line, wanting to argue, but the earnestness in his eyes stops you. You nod reluctantly, tears threatening to spill. "If that is what you wish." you whisper. "I’ll let you."

He smiles, relief washing over his features. "Thank you. I will miss you, but it’s time for you to return to Hida with the children. I don’t want you to see me die."

The finality of his words stabs at your heart, but you know he’s trying to spare you pain. "You will not die, I refuse to believe it….I…”

"Please, wife. Do as I instruct." he interrupts gently. "Do it for the peace of my soul.”

You nod again, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. He pulls you into a tender embrace, holding you close as if to memorize the feel of you one last time. You stayed like that until you could not anymore. The rest of the day, you had ordered quietly for your son and daughter to be informed and your entire household to be readied for the journey.

You were not ready to lose your husband, not like this. You watched him laugh all night, telling little quips and singing little tunes despite his coughing fits. He wrote many things that night, but he refused to let you see them. Yet you were certain that he was preparing himself for what may come. You bit your lower lip, as you struggled to put away those tears from pouring through your eyes. You stilled yourself as you retired to your chambers. You cry and cry until there is nothing left to let out from your purple eyes.

When you emerged in the morning, your servants had tried to not let their faces notice your devastation. You dressed in your finest junnihitoe for him. You put all of your most beautiful suberakashi rested upon the foundation of your long dark hair. Your hiōgi was the most elegant of cypress wood, painted in beautiful herons flying over the river. Your husband had made it for you all those years ago, and it was your favorite. You wanted to look good for him. You wanted to make sure that he knows that he is leaving you well. That you would be fine, even if you would not truly be. You wanted him to know.

He was assisted by his servant in standing as he met you and the children out in the courtyard. Seiryuu stood tall and proud before his father. He was dressed in his finest kariginu bearing the Gojo clan symbols against the heron of the Ryomen. His little sister stood beside him, diligently in her silk kimono covered with herons standing above the Gojo family crest.

The two of them lowered their heads as you passed them by. They seemed somber, but confident. But you had expected that. They loved their father the most in the world. And to leave him in such a state, they did not like it. But they adore you just as much and they will not let you go on your own. Not when you needed them too. You let go of your servant’s hand as you smiled at your husband.

The children and you say your goodbyes to Suzaku as you all prepare to return to Hida. You watch your husband bid farewell to your son and daughter for what you know will be the last time. He embraces them gently, whispering words of love and encouragement, his eyes filled with a deep, unspoken sorrow. Seiryuu tries to be strong, but you can see the tears he struggles to hold back. Your daughter clings to Suzaku, her small frame shaking with sobs.

When it is your turn, you take his hands in yours and press a kiss to them, feeling the warmth and strength that has always comforted you. Your eyes start to water, and you look up at him, seeing your own pain reflected in his eyes. He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that escapes.

“You must take care to be well on your travels.” Your husband says to you tenderly, more than he had ever before. You smiled at him. “And make sure you will wear the furs I have arranged for you.”

“I will not forget them.” You promised him. You took his hand on your own. “You must take care of yourself. I won’t be able to do it for you.”

He laughs as he lifts your hand into his and places a kiss upon its palm. “I will always strive to please my wife. I shall.”

Your heart broke at those words. Because you knew that he would not. Not when his plan was in full motion. “I shall see you when I return.”

Gojo Suzaku sends a tight smile at you, one that was all too knowing. “I shall see you too.”

You look towards his hand, eyeing the matching rings upon both your fingers. You lifted your eyes, feeling them water. He squeezes your hand even tighter, as though to tell you to not spill your tears here. Not at this moment. Not in your farewell. You took a deep breath, as though to gather yourself fully.

"I love you, wife. Truly." he whispers, his voice breaking. "More than words can say."

“I love you, with everything in me." you manage to choke out, your tears flowing freely now.

"Be safe," he whispers, his voice breaking.

He leans in and kisses your cheek one last time, a tender and lingering farewell. You can feel the finality of his touch, the weight of all the unspoken words between you. "I wish you a good journey," he says softly, "and that you will be happy."

You slowly nodded at him, your lip pursing into a tight line. “I will.”

He steps back, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "I shall see you next, wife. One day.”

With a heavy heart, you turn to leave, guiding Masako towards her own litter. Suzaku got atop his horse and turned to look at his father and bowed his head. Masako sat upon her litter and glanced towards her father and waved. As you step inside your own litter, you glance back at Suzaku one last time. He stands there, a faint smile on his lips, his eyes following you with a mixture of love and resignation.

The door of the litter closes, and as it starts to move, the reality of the situation crashes down upon you. The tears you had held back now flow freely, and you start to sob, your shoulders shaking with the force of your grief. The children, sensing your pain, huddle close to you, their own tears mingling with yours.

This was the last time you would see your husband. The man who had been your rock, your partner, your love. As the litter carries you away from him, you clutch at the memories of your time together, vowing to honor his last wishes. The journey ahead seems daunting, but you draw strength from the love you shared, knowing that it will guide you through the days to come.

Suzaku’s smile was his last gift to you.

It will always linger in your mind for years.

When you step into Hida, you fall to your knees.

The years of peace had disappeared in an instant.

YOU WERE EXHAUSTED. You have not slept day after day. You could not, when there is so much more to be done. Your rest can wait. It had been more than two months now since the Gojo clan was plunged into civil war. You have been raising forces in Hida, ones that you promised to lead personally. For now, your trusted Mikoto Masaomi leads the vanguard that thrusts against possible attacks.

It still has not hit you that you are now a widow. The news reaches you swiftly upon your arrival in Hida: The departed lord of the Gojo, Gojo Suzaku had used all his remaining strength to kill his cousins, their entire bloodline, and all those who conspired against him. The rest of those bloody traitors had gone and ran amok, but soon enough, your husband had died alone. You were certain that his body had been exhausted from all of it. And in the aftermath, Those treacherous letchers had usurped everything. Those loyal to your son had begun gathering in Hida, planning an offense to reclaim what rightfully belonged to Seiryuu.

The young rightful lord of the Gojo. young Gojo Seiryuu had been most inconsolable about his father's death. He refused to see anyone, even you. Guilt and grief gnawed at the young Gojo lordling, and he withdrew further into himself with each passing day. Masako, your daughter, continued to ask for her father, crying bitter tears when you had no answer for her.

You grieved your husband as much as you could, but there was no time to rest. There was no space for you to show your grief too clearly. Not when there is a need to move. If you do not move further, you could lose everything. And even more, your children could lose their lives. You would not let that happen. Not over your dead body.

As you sit in your chambers, the weight of your responsibilities pressing heavily on your shoulders. You write over and over to all your allies, trying to gather their support. The Inumaki as always were loyal to the Gojo and the Ryomen. You were seeking out the Azuma, another vassal of the Gojo, but there has yet to be a response. You could feel your head hurt. The voices in your head whispering the thoughts of a devil. But you would not succumb. You cannot. But then, a knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts. You turn your head, seeing long dark hair peer through the doors.

“Mother?” Masako’s small voice trembles from the other side.

“Daughter, it is late.” You whisper at her.

“I…I cannot sleep.” Her little voice admits to you tenderly.

You sighed and smiled at her. “Come in, little one.”

The door opens, and Masako enters, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She clutches a worn, little doll to her chest, her small frame trembling. You brush away the stray hairs that mar her eyes. She sniffs as she looks at you and you could not help but let out a small smile at her. She’s been having nightmares, you remembered. It hasn’t been easy on her lately, more so with those nightmares come in reminders of her own late father.

“Mother, where is father?” she asks again, her voice breaking. “Why won’t he come back?”

You swallow hard, forcing back your own tears as you hold her closer to you. “Masako, my darling girl, your father has gone to a place where we cannot follow. But he is watching over us, always.”

“But I miss him, mother.” she sobs, burying her face in your shoulder.

“I miss him too,” you whisper, holding her close. “But we must be strong. For him, and for Seiryuu.”

As you comfort Masako, a servant appears at the door, bowing respectfully. “My lady, the loyalists have gathered in the main hall. They await your instructions.”

You nod, rising to your feet and taking Masako’s hand. “Thank you. I will be there shortly.”

The servant leaves, and you turn to Masako, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “Stay here, my love. I must attend to something important.”

Masako nods reluctantly, her grip tightening on her toy. “Please come back soon, Mother.”

“I will,” you promise, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

In the main hall, the loyalists look to you with a mixture of hope and desperation. They need guidance, a plan, a way to reclaim their home and secure Seiryuu’s rightful place as the head of the Gojo clan.

“Thank you all for gathering here,” you begin, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. “We face a grave threat, but we are not without hope. My husband, lord Gojo Suzaku, sacrificed everything to protect this clan. Now, it is our duty to honor his legacy and fight for Seiryuu.”

A murmur of agreement ripples through the room, the tension palpable. The loyalists, a mix of seasoned warriors and young recruits, shift uneasily on their feet. Their faces are a tapestry of determination, fear, and hope. Some exchange glances, silently communicating their resolve and apprehensions. The flickering torchlight casts dancing shadows on the walls, adding to the somber atmosphere.

As you scan the room, you see familiar faces—men and women who have stood by your side through countless battles and hardships. Their loyalty is unwavering, but the uncertainty of the future weighs heavily on everyone. The silence that follows is thick, filled with unspoken fears and the gravity of the situation.

An older warrior, his hair streaked with silver, steps forward. His eyes are steely with conviction, but there is a softness in his gaze as he looks at you. "My lady, we have followed Suzaku through many trials. We will follow you and Seiryuu now. We are ready to fight for what is rightfully ours."

His words act as a catalyst, breaking the tension. Others nod, some murmuring agreements more audibly now. The room seems to draw in a collective breath, preparing for the arduous journey ahead.

“We must be strategic,” you continue. “We will reclaim what is ours, but we must do so wisely. Seiryuu will need our strength, our unity. Together, we can overcome this.”

One of the loyalists steps forward, his expression resolute. “We are ready to follow you, my lady. What are your orders?”

You take a deep breath, drawing on the strength Suzaku always saw in you. “Prepare our defenses and gather intelligence on the usurpers’ movements. We will strike when the time is right. For now, we must fortify Hida and protect Seiryuu.”

As plans are set into motion, you feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. You must be hopeful. You felt your age echo throughout your bones. It is as if you had aged a thousand years. As you walked towards the outer halls, you crossed your arms. You should have brought a padded haori. But you wanted to have this moment. You wanted to enjoy your lonesomeness. You wanted to have a moment to accept the reality you now faced.

You could feel the chilly air stab through your skin like sharp needles. There is no time to rest, but in the quiet moments, you allow yourself to grieve. In this moment, you let yourself take a deep breath and still yourself to your reality. to remember the love and strength that Suzaku gave you. And with each passing day, you steel yourself for the battles ahead, determined to see Seiryuu restored to his rightful place. Looking at the far away moon, you pray that you could be successful. That you will succeed in honoring Suzaku’s memory and fight for your family’s future.

You blink as you still yourself. You were wondering if you were seeing an illusion. You stayed as you were as he observed you with those dark red irises. You purse your lips as your arms crossed against your chest, as though to shield yourself. You knew he would never hurt you. But you wanted to protect yourself. You were the most vulnerable you ever were. Before you could catch yourself, you found him standing before you. You lift your head to observe him. He has not changed. He still looked as he did years ago. He has not aged.

He does not say a word to you as he sheds his haori off his prodigious body. Slowly, his four arms placed it around your shoulders. It was too big on you, you think. It covered almost all of you as a whole. But it was warm, as he always was. Sukuna watched as your hands dragged it closer to you, as though to secure it in place.

“You’re foolish to not bring a cover for yourself.” Those were the first words he had for you in these many years.

"Why have you come?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Even a runaway scum can come home when he misses home." he replies, his tone carrying a hint of melancholy. “Is that wrong?”

"You were never a runaway scum." you say softly, looking into his eyes. "Just a lost soul."

A pregnant silence passes between you, filled with unspoken emotions and shared history. The air is thick with memories, both bitter and sweet, that hang heavily in the space between you. The faint sound of the night—a distant owl hooting, the rustle of leaves in the wind—provides a stark contrast to the silent conversation unfolding in your hearts.

Your eyes meet, and in that moment, so much is conveyed without a single word. The pain of separation, the lingering affection, the regrets of things left unsaid. Sukuna's gaze is intense, yet there's a softness there that you've rarely seen. It's as if he's laying bare his soul, exposing the vulnerability he keeps so well hidden.

You remember the first time you met, the awkward yet exhilarating beginnings of your friendship. The battles fought side by side, the nights spent in quiet companionship, the stolen glances and fleeting touches that spoke of something deeper. All these memories swirl around you, forming an invisible bond that time and distance have never truly severed.

Sukuna shifts slightly, his posture stiff yet somehow more open than before. You can almost hear the words he's not saying, the apologies, the admissions of guilt and longing. Your own heart aches with the weight of unexpressed feelings. You want to tell him everything—how you missed him, how his absence left a void that nothing else could fill, how despite everything, you never stopped caring.

But the silence holds you captive, a barrier of fear and uncertainty. What if these words break the fragile peace between you? What if they open old wounds that have barely begun to heal?

Sukuna breaks the silence, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "I'm sorry for your loss."

You turn to face him fully, searching his face. "Do you mean it?"

He sighs, his gaze unwavering. "I did not like your husband, but he took care of you. And for me, that was the most important thing."

Your eyes fill with fresh tears at his words, the sincerity in them undeniable. "Thank you." you say, your voice trembling. "It means a lot to hear you say that."

Silence passes between the two of you. Tears pass through your eyes in an outburst, almost like the heightening tides of the seas in a storm.

Sukuna reaches out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your shoulder. "You've been through so much. More than anyone should have to endure."

"You've been gone for so long," you say, your voice cracking. "And now everything is falling apart. The clan is in chaos, Seiryuu is lost in his grief, and Masako cries every night for her father."

You sigh wearily, taking a good look at Sukuna for the first time in a long time. He stands there, the same as you remember, unchanged by time. Despite everything, you manage a small smile. "You haven’t aged a day since I last saw you."

He tilts his head slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Jujutsu does have quite a lot of mysteries."

"You look as you did years ago," he says, his voice softer than usual.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Come up with a better lie, Sukuna. I continue to age, but you do not. You’ll outlive me soon enough."

For the first time, you see a flicker of emotion in Sukuna’s eyes. His usual mask of indifference slips, revealing a vulnerability you had never witnessed before. The realization that perhaps he does not think you could ever truly die and leave his life completely lingers in the air, unspoken but palpable.

It hurts him to see you like this. But he cannot let you know that. You would carry that weight with you and he does not want that. As he looked at you, he could see the life that he lives for. The moonlight shone all around you with a beautiful gleam. Nearly twenty years had passed and in all those years that grew within your human flesh, there will always be the soul he had fallen in love with. You were easily recognizable. And he would always choose you over the world.

There were times where Sukuna thought that you were just a pure creature who fell from the heavens and was lost in hell with him. Even after all this time, even as you had grown older, you still wanted to meet him. You would never shun him. Even if he chooses to stay away, you would let him return here, in this paradise.

Even if he tried to lead you out of it, you would never leave. The demon he is, he could never escape his love for you either. as much as you would never escape your love for him. Over and over, he believes it as much as you probably do. He will always fall in love with you over and over again.

He looks away for a moment, composing himself. "You are stronger than you think, you know." he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reach out and place a hand on his arm, a small smile on your lips. "And you, Sukuna, are not as invincible as you believe."

He meets your gaze again, the intensity in his eyes softened by a hint of something deeper—regret, perhaps, or a fear of losing the one connection he has left.

"I’ve missed you." he admits, the words heavy with unspoken emotions.

"And I’ve missed you." you reply, your voice tender.

You smile at him like you used to, a gesture both familiar and foreign after all this time. It's a smile tinged with a hint of nostalgia, a softening of the edges that have formed between you over the years of separation. In that moment, the weight of the past seems to lift, leaving only the echo of what once was.

Your smile is a silent invitation, a bridge across the chasm that has grown between you. It speaks of shared memories, of laughter and camaraderie, of moments that time has not yet erased. It's a reminder of the connection you once shared, a glimmer of hope that perhaps it's not too late to reclaim what was lost.

For Sukuna, your smile is like a balm to his wounded soul. It's been so long since he's seen that smile directed at him, so long since he's felt the warmth of your affection. It stirs something deep within him, a longing that he thought he had buried long ago. In that fleeting moment, he allows himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could go back to how they used to be.

As he returns your smile, there's a softness in his eyes, a vulnerability that he rarely lets show. It's a silent admission of the myriad emotions swirling within him—regret, longing, hope. In that shared moment, you both let go of the barriers that have kept you apart, if only for a moment.

The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. It's a moment frozen in time, a brief respite from the chaos of your lives. And in that moment, as you smile at each other like you used to, you both know that no matter what the future holds, this connection between you will endure.

"You’ll outlive me soon enough," you say, the words laced with a hint of jest, but the weight of their truth hangs heavily on your heart. You don’t say it out loud, though. Instead, you offer him a gentle smile, a feeble attempt to alleviate the tension that simmers between you. “Time touches everything, but you, it would seem.”

"Don't say that," he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with a hint of desperation.

You pause, taken aback by the raw emotion in his tone. It's a rare moment of vulnerability from Sukuna, a crack in the facade he wears so meticulously. You meet his gaze, seeing something akin to fear flicker in his eyes—fear of losing you, fear of facing a future without your presence.

The contrast between your aging form and his eternal youth is a constant reminder of the passage of time, of the inevitability of mortality. It's a bitter truth that you both silently acknowledge, yet neither dares to confront head-on.

Perhaps he has never truly considered the possibility of you leaving him, of your life coming to an end while his continues on unchanged. The thought is both comforting and terrifying, a reminder of the fragility of your mortal existence in contrast to his immortal nature.

As the weight of unspoken words hangs heavy in the air, you reach out, tentatively placing a hand on his arm. It's a silent gesture of reassurance, a reminder that even as time marches on and lives change, your connection remains unbroken.

“You will live a long life, I am certain.”

He looks at you, something unreadable in his gaze. "I don’t care about that. I care that you are with me now.”

"For as long as I can be, do not be greedy." you reply softly, as though telling him off. "But someday, I won’t be."

His expression hardens slightly, a defense mechanism against the pain your words bring. "I won’t let that happen." he says, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might make it true.

"You can’t stop time, Sukuna. Never." you say gently, turning to him with a small smile.

"You were right," Sukuna finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. But he wishes you weren’t. He wishes he could change the inevitable, alter the course of fate so that he could keep you with him always. In that moment, he longs to lock away the world, to shield you from the passage of time and the cruelty of mortality. Even after all this time, his desire to be with you burns as fiercely as ever. But deep down, he knows that you would never allow it.

Silence once more envelops your world, a heavy shroud that settles between you. It's a silence pregnant with unspoken truths and unfulfilled desires, a reminder of the chasm that separates your two worlds. Despite the ache in his heart, Sukuna knows that he cannot defy the laws of nature, cannot change the fundamental truths that govern your existence.

And so, he remains silent, his thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of longing and resignation. He knows that even as he yearns to keep you by his side, to hold onto you with a desperation born of centuries of solitude, he must accept that some things are beyond his control. Your mortality is one such thing, a barrier that he cannot hope to overcome no matter how much he wishes otherwise.

In that moment, as you stand together beneath the moonlit sky in silence, Sukuna realizes that his love for you is both a blessing and a curse. He knows that one day, it will make him feel worse. More so when you are gone. It would fill him with a warmth and a joy that he has not known all his life, yet it also brings him anguish and a despair he had known all his life — threatening to consume him whole.

Sukuna's gaze doesn't waver, his determination unwavering. "I may not be under your command anymore," he replies, his voice low and steady, "but that doesn't mean I can't help you."

You pause, considering his words carefully. Despite the years that have passed and the distance that now separates you, Sukuna's offer of assistance stirs something within you—a flicker of hope in the darkness of uncertainty. It was tempting. But you know you cannot. He does not belong to you anymore.

"I appreciate the offer, Sukuna," you say, your voice tinged with gratitude, "but this is something I must face on my own."

He steps closer, his expression unwavering. “Even if you say that, I can never change when it comes to you. I only ever think about you. And any threat to you—”

A sad smile touches your lips as you interject. “Sukuna, you must free yourself from me before it’s too late. I’m a lost cause, a mortal with fleeting time. Don’t saddle yourself with someone like me.”

Sukuna's expression softens, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. He reaches out, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before gently cupping your cheek. "You're not a lost cause," he murmurs, his voice tender yet tinged with resignation. "And I could never think of you as such."

Your heart aches at his words, knowing the truth behind them. Despite the depth of his affection, despite the bond that still ties you together, you cannot deny the vast differences between you—differences that cannot be bridged no matter how much you may wish otherwise.

Taking his hands in yours, you look at him earnestly. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

His grip tightens slightly, a rare show of vulnerability. “I’ll always be with you, on earth and in hell. Anywhere. I shall follow you.”

You turn to him as you blinked. You felt your lips tremble into a laugh. “You will truly be cursed to love me, Sukuna.”

“I know.” He responds nonchalantly, with a shrug.

“And you do not care?”

“Not in the slightest.”

You squeeze his hands for a moment, as though conveying a message that words cannot express. His gaze meets yours, and you hold his four eyes with your gleaming purple haze. “In my next life, I pray that we never meet again, so that you are free of me.”

For a moment, he stands silent, the weight of your words sinking in. The air around you is heavy with the gravity of your parting, the unspoken farewell hanging between you like a veil of sorrow. Sukuna's expression is unreadable, a mixture of longing and resignation playing across his features.

As the silence stretches on, you can feel the weight of his unspoken response, a silent acknowledgment of your wishes. It's a bittersweet moment, filled with the pain of goodbye and the hope of new beginnings.

Finally, Sukuna breaks the silence, his voice barely a whisper. "That is a cruel wish."

Your heart aches at his response, knowing the truth behind his words. It's a cruel wish indeed, to ask for separation from someone you care for so deeply. Yet, it's a sacrifice you feel compelled to make, for his sake as much as your own.

Sukuna's voice, barely above a whisper, echoes through the quiet space between you. It's laced with a hint of sadness, a silent acknowledgment of the pain of your parting. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between honoring your wishes and the longing to remain by your side.

For a moment, you're lost in the weight of his gaze, the depth of emotion swirling within his four eyes. It's a silent plea, a desperate desire to defy fate and rewrite the script of destiny. But deep down, you know that some things are beyond your control, beyond even the power of a curse.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "But it's the only way."

With those words hanging in the air like a lament, you turn away, the ache of goodbye settling heavy in your heart. As you walk away, the weight of Sukuna's unspoken response lingers in the air like a haunting melody, a reminder of the bond that will forever tie you together, no matter how far apart you may be.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the night breeze. "But it's the only way."

With those words hanging in the air like a lament, you removed his haori and returned it to him. He moves, as though to argue but you turn away without another word.The ache of goodbye settling heavy in your heart. As you walk away, the weight of Ryomen Sukuna's unspoken response lingers in the air like a haunting melody, a reminder of the bond that will forever tie you together, no matter how far apart you may be.

Soon enough the winter snows fall.

And you will be cold all over again.

You think of his warmth all over again.

And hope it keeps your sorrows away.

facts about the chapter

i always knew that gojo suzaku was going to die, i just didn't know when he would die. i only thought about killing him when i nded up building the story to this point.

hiromi (you)'s purple eyes continue to turn brighter because the closer you are to the gods, the more the power is there. the more they're brighter. it's why its lilac unlike genmei (also you)'s darker shades.

also, the more you're closer to the gods, the more you are less likely to be bullied by the voices in your head. hiromi only has brief moments where she gets bullied off by the gods because they actually like her unlike genmei.

hiromi is at this point 41 - 42 years old, sukuna is 39 - 40 years old. he stopped aging years ago because he uses his cursed technique to slow down his ageing.

at this point in heian era, seiryuu as a fourteen year old would be considered of age but hiromi (you) really don't think that he's old enough to know what to do and hiromi (you) wants to shield him from all of it.

seiryuu practiced a lot of the reversal techniques that satoru learned years ago. just like satoru, he thinks that the biggest pain in the ass is learn it. seiryuu figured out red and blue later in life and theorized that it's possible to merge them.

hiromi (you)'s current heir to the ryomen name is masako. masako has been under instruction to learn how to be the future ryomen clan leader but she's not interested in it.

the azuma clan is a oc clan under the gojo my friend has made and we sometimes talk about it in like roleplays and i wanted to give a nod to my friend cause their ocs are really cool

it's a common theme between the people who inherit hiromi (you)'s cursed technique to die young because of how much toll it takes on the body to exist. the one in between hiromi and genmei died when she was sixteen, trying to kill off a zenin clan head who tried to subjugate mahoraga.

the upcoming chapter happens in between one or two years, the next chapter is a hundred years later and the last happens in shibuya. its gonna spoil stuff for us and them, but well after this, i have to write us and them.

upcoming chapter also reveals hiromi (you) and genmei (you)'s domain expansion and why both hold back using it in the first place.

next chapter, the family tree of the ryomen will be revealed. this includes all of hiromi's children and other family members. i've kept it from people long enough, so im excited for that too.

37 notes · View notes

tamberrio · 1 day

Text

Do you guys see my vision do you

Nerdy thoughts about characters and the world in the au under the cut (Slight spoilers for plot of both BSD and Reverse:1999 I guess?)

ok ok so:

Dazai is the Time Keeper and works at the St. Pavlov Foundation. The ADA would basically be the small branch of the Foundation that Vertin oversees in the actual story. To that end, I can snag a couple character rolls for the BSD characters.

Dazai is Vertin, obviously. He was just as rebellious as a kid as she was, and made friends with the outside world (Oda) only to watch them die to the storm. So now the Foundation makes him go to the different time periods and collect data on why he and his suitcase are immune. Since I know Vertin is like 16 in the game, I thought I should age everyone down just slightly to fit that teenagers-doing-dangerous-things-that-should-be-left-to-adults vibe, so now he is 18 when he finds Atsushi, who is 14.

Kunikida would probably play a Sonnetto role, being the studious type who tries to follow all the rules and make sure the Time Keeper stays on track.

Yosano would probably be best suited as a Doctor in the Foundation but is saved strictly for the ADA’s branch. Probably a Medicine Pocket type of character? I actually have a draft of her where I take heavy inspiration from X’s butterfly scarf thing because thematically I think it’s perfect. I don’t know if she would exactly fit Mesmer Jr.’s role, since it includes a betrayal against Vertin along with Dubious medical practices within her family. Although the dubious medical practices thing could fit well, I don’t think the betrayal really suits her character in that regard.

Ranpo wouldn’t be an arcanist, but we have actual human characters in the story who are playable (like Ezra is human I believe), so he could use his deduction skills that way. They’d probably try to keep him away from the front lines when possible, so as not to risk him if the storm appears.

Thematically, Atsushi would be Regulus, since she’s the first to be found by Vertin in the actual story. Otherwise, Atsushi would be completely different in terms of backstory. It’s hard to tell in these sketches, but I tried to give him a coat similar to Regulus but not recognizable as such. He’d be a Beast Aflatus, obviously. Arcanists are very much discriminated against in the actual story, so that would fit really well with him. I figured Atsushi could be immune to the storm too, since his tiger has the power to cut through abilities, similar to how Dazai can nullify them.

Ango would be Madam Z, because of his strenuous relationship with the Time Keeper due to past betrayals, and his want to keep the Time Keeper out of harms way. Mori could be his direct supervisor for a time, and Ango can be complicit in the “trap” made for Dazai to get him to be more agreeable. He’d help reduce the influence the Foundation has on the Time Keeper’s decisions. Fukuzawa could be good for this role of “overlooking the team” as well.

As for the Foundation itself, I think it would be a mix of the government and the port mafia, while having Manus Vindictae be the Decay of Angels/Rats (Fyodor would make a really good villain in that regard). Although it’s hard to picture some of the port mafia members working at the Foundation, I can still pick and choose who goes where.

Every other character probably wouldn’t have a direct comparison, but that’s what I have so far. This is probably WAY easier to follow if you know the plot of Reverse: 1999 but I’ll come up with a more comprehensive doc later.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #bsd dazai #aus #Time keeper Dazai my beloved #Every time I think I’ve made the most self indulgent thing ever #I have to go and one up myself huh #little sketchie doos to get back into drawing stuff #also does anyone know the etiquette of tagging au universes cuz I'm not sure I should be tagging this as r1999 specifically

36 notes · View notes

demonictumble · 2 days

Text

fic rec list (1/??? )

this is a fic recommendation list for whomever wants a good read. All of these are on AO3. I have not provided links, so just search them up!

If you do end up reading any of these, or really any fic in general, remember to leave the author comments!! They deserve them, esp because they do this for free and they deserve to know how beautiful their writing is and how appreciated they are.

My PSA: COMMENT ON FICS AND DONT TAKE AUTHORS FOR GRANTED

DC..

IMPORTANT NOTE I am not a religious fan where I only like a fic when it adheres to canon characterization or texts. I can enjoy fics even when they completely throw off what's actually canon and that's okay for me, but it might not be for you. So just keep this in mind and the back button exists for a reason if you don't like something.

Buy Back the Secrets by Sundiscus (incomplete)

Tim Drake and Kon El centered!! OH MY GODS. I could rave on and on about this fic all day but I'll have to keep it brief. I've reread at LEAST 5 times. It's brilliant. The writing, the plot, the characterizations!! They are incredible. If I had to use a phrase to describe it, it would be "identity shenanigans and timkon" but that simplifies the absolute masterpiece that it is SO MUCH

Executive Assistant to the Batman by heartslogos (complete)

Tim is basically Bruce Wayne's assistant and is desperately trying to avoid letting them know that he knows. This is complete crack, but it is hilarious. The writing is so funny and It's what I need after a bad day or anything tbh. It may not be completely true to characters or whatever, but it makes up for it a thousand times over in spirit and the laughs it's produced from me.

anything (not the title because literally ANYTHING) by IzzyMRDB

I can rave about them all day because the dc/batfam fics I have seen them right are all so delicious and I devoured them far too fast and momggg its just so good. and I love their writing style <3

Reverse Robin AU by yellow_cabellero (complete)

I CANNOT DO THIS SERIES JUSTICE WITH MY WORDS. IT is a must read for me. The writer writes spectacularly and the characterization, even though its a reverse robin, feels on point, especially considering the circumstances (Im a huge believer in circumstances shape a person's personality, which is what I think occurs beautifully in all of these fics). They're just so GOOD.

Also this author has a STEPH FIC that is stunning. 10/10. Steph is a character that doesn't get the appreciation she deserves, so this fic was especially more touching for me. It was terrific seeing her girl bossing in the 90s (IT ALSO FELT SO PERIOD ACCURATE CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT). Not to mention, the author shows off character flaws in a believable manner and nobody is a Mary Sue and it's just EVERYUTHING IS JUST *chefs kiss* by them.

The Fishbowl by LordLuxury (complete)

This is Dick Grayson centered. THEY HAVE MADE A MASTERPIECE. I genuinely mean it. Dick is constantly trying to pull the family together, he is trying to be the glue as everything tries to go the opposite. LET THIS MAN HAVE HIS FAMILY. This had me in shambles. Bad Dad Bruce hurt me, but it was just so realistic. That's what gets me. The whole dynamics portrayed in The Fishbowl are so goddamn realistic and it feels so real. Everyone is flawed in their own way and its just... PLEASE READ IT I BEG OF YOU.

Love and Bruises by Acin_Grayson and Hoebiwan (complete)

Despite what the title may suggest, this is actually funny! Jason thinks Batman is abusing Bruce. And I just remember dying of laughter as I read this. Terrific! Would read and Will read again

Marvel (I am a movies fan so most if not all fics I recommend from here on out will be probably based on movies!)

Tennessee Outreach for Spider-Man and Friends by ciaconna

GREAT FIC. Harley (potato gun kid in one of the iron man movies for those who don't remember) gets an internship with Tony stark for college application reasons and its to help Spiderman. Peter Parker and Harley whateverhislastname is such a funny duo and they made the fic spectacular. Terrific writing omg.

Peter and the Jailbirds by beautifullights

I THINK THIS FIC HURT ME. I don't really remember much bc its been a year and a half, but I think my emotions remember because I feel mildly sad when I think about it. Peter is on the raft and bonds with the ex-avengers also on the raft. The premise of a teenager possibly spending the rest of his life in prison is terrible, but I swear this fic has funny moments and the conversations that occur are to die for because the WRITING. WHEW.

O Brother, Where Art Thou? by theskeptileptic

Tony survives and it's set after No Way Home. Where I'm pretty sure the only people dead are May and Pepper. Morgan saves the day by remembering her big brother (Im a sucker for big brother Peter arc). Peter is kind of a mini Tony in this one I think, which is such an interesting take. And it's such a coming home story and its just so beautiful.

Cross Overs:

Even Heroes Have the Right To Dream by Bounemr (complete)

mlb/dc crossover!! where marinate and Jon are retired superhero and go to college together! Great writing and plot with a good ending. Fluffy for the most part as far I as I can remember (it's been a year since I've read it so you know it's good if I can still remember)

Hired Hands by neighborhood_yogurt (incomplete)

Percy Jackson/ DC crossover!! It's been a while since I've read this one too but It's stuck with me. It's hilarious and I need to reread it but Percy is accidentally on Penguin's payroll because he's just a dumb blonde at heart, but it's okay we all love him. And Shenanigans occur. I don't remember exactly what happens so reminder to read this again for myself as well!

(IDK if any of these authors have tumblrs, if they do, someone please tag them and I will forever be in your debt)

33 notes · View notes

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 17 hours

Note

why did you tag your post with gaz erasure my ass? like what was hard to believe that the cod fandom has blatant patterns of purposefully removing the only black character and replacing him with everyone under the sun? your friend lied about killing themself to make them look like a victim. and you participated in harassing people who saw this for what it was. you need to step back and reflect on your own self on why you thought that your friend’s “death” was caused by people calling out patterns of anti black racism and then go on to harass them. you are not an ally by any means.

Back when I used that tag, I paired it with another tag right after, it was meant to be an aggressive call out on misinformation, I had meant for it to read as 'Gaz erasure my ass, y'all just can't read'.

(This because the original post didn't read like intentional erasure but rather like codslut thought Gaz didn't fit the post, since she also didn't use Reboot Soap, she used *Captain* Soap, idk how best to explain it but to me the two soaps are different characters so i figured it was an intentional choice to use him and keegan rather than reboot soap and gaz)

Edit: I want to add that I also used codslut's own explanation as the basis for why I didn't think it was erasure. And at this point, she's clearly not to be fucking trusted, so it wouldn't surprise me if it really *was* erasure/racism and I believed her word that it wasn't.

As time went on, I dropped the last part of the tag of 'y'all just can't read', and looking back it not only reads as a racist dog whistle but also, just in general, sounds and looks fucking disgusting.

I've said this before, but I think it warrants saying again: I *didn't* mean to say Gaz erasure doesn't exist. It does very much exist in the community and even Activision themselves often erase Gaz from promo materials.

I'd hate for people to think that I either dislike Gaz or don't see the blatant racism/dislike/erasure that happens with him on the community. That's not the case. Gaz is a main character (unlike König like so many people try to replace him with) who I absolutely adore, and I call out erasure when I see it here on Tumblr, on Tiktok and on Twitter.

I never meant to make it seem like Gaz erasure doesn't exist. I only wanted to call out misinformation... and ended up doing the exact opposite of both my intentions. I'm sorry about that. It was not just disgusting but full on stupid of me.

I also want to say that I didn't think that that screenshot post specifically or even the act of people calling out racism where they saw it was the cause for codslut possibly killing herself. That is not what I meant at all. And I don't want anyone to think I blame @soapskneebrace or @glossysoap or anyone else for that. Blood was never on their hands, I want to make that very clear!!!!

When I was confronting people, I was doing so on the basis that they're big creators with big platforms and that by accusing codslut of racism/erasure they opened the door for anons to justify their actions when going after codslut because they have so much reach and people with bad intentions need less than that to justify the hate they send people.

Looking back, I know I was in the wrong for how I spoke. I was aggressive and rude and mean, and none of the people involved deserve that. Hell, my actions were hypocritical as hell and I probably opened the door for them to get hate themselves. I'm really fucking sorry.

If I could take it back, I would. I never believed nor wanted them to believe that someone potentially harming themselves was their fault. It wasn't.

I do plan on taking a step back to reconsider not just the way I acted but everything that's happened. In fact, I was already taking said break and came online only because I got word of @/fulltacs' post.

I appreciate and thank you for holding me accountable (and by that I mean you and everyone!). And I especially thank *you* anon for wording this ask this way, and giving me, at least, a chance to explain.

#asks

27 notes · View notes

coquettedragoon · 2 days

Note

could you expand a little on your writing and worldbuilding process for coquette? the way you write characters is really nice

my writing process is kind of informed by a sense of wanting every part of the thing i'm working on to be fun to work on, which sounds obvious... but well im one of those people who made webcomics excited to get to the big story payoffs 5 years down the track but didn't put any thought into what came before it and got burnt out. in the past i would've shown xios life before enlistment as a slow burn but instead i'm just opening right on it.

the overarching structure of coquette is informed by hxh... i really like how each arc of it is a drastically different setting and genre with a rotating primary cast, i don't intend for coquette to be as varied but it struck me as a really fun way of making longform work that feels consistently enjoyable to work on... ig as a brief example, the first section will focus on the zephyranthes, after this xio and co are sent to fight in sunset as part of the lilac occupation and then are left behind after the lilac force retreats (careful what you wish for ayane...) and Stuff Happens, ig what i mean is i dont want to linger on a status quo for too long.

as for the world, i mostly am drawing from legend of the galactic heroes/gundam 79 as a template. the duchy is the empire/zeon, the lilac is the FPA/earth federation, and sunset is fezzan/side six.

for the lilac in particular, i'm kind of drawing from like... how things felt being in school during the iraq war and the fervor among the students around me, i knew so many people who wanted to enlist after graduation etc and saw the army as like a winning ticket compared to the deadend town we were in, like girls wanting to join the army to get a degree as a lawyer or a pilot etc. the core of the lilac is its a society that exists to funnel people (especially like xio) into the army.

the duchy is a bit more vibes based, i just like when the baddies in scifi are anachronistic aristocrats. theres a section in the gundam origin manga about like... interpreting the zeon invasion of earth as a return to 'the sacred grounds of the soul' that carries a lot of weight. i think it sort of gave me an impression of the zeon as like... people living in the void of space and feeling spiritually/intellectually starved by it and driven mad by it, and i kind of used that as my basis for the duchy. they are obsessed with tradition and antiquity to feel like they have a sense of place in the world and aren't just drifting in space, the aesthetic sense is rooted in a sense of like.. older feeling things are more connected to earth and feel more 'human' to them. then ofc like the imperialism and arranged marriages and social stratification are all 'old' and can't be questioned so they are miserable anyway.

i guess it's all based on the thing in LOGH of how it opens on 'no human or society is immortal', and then depicts the slow collapse of the two nations founded on flimsy ideas. the lilac and the duchy are both dead end nations.

as for character writing... i think i kind of just take archetypes i like from moe anime etc and then try and dig into how their brains work living in the world of coquette. xio could be a happy little moeblob in most other worlds. ryukishis writing is probably what informs me better than anything else... i just want to try and depict what it's like to live inside these characters heads.

#good asks

35 notes · View notes

pinkgy · 1 day

Text

Niflheim Character Charts just dropped and they are the most interesting kingdom, here's why.

There are a lot of things to talk about I don't even know where to begin.

I've seen a lot of blogs here giving their opinion about them, and i wanted to do the same :D

First of all, the only kink that we maybe would've been able to assume was Beleth's, and honestly, that tobacco kink never crossed my mind.

Where do they even get these kinks?

They just get more creative every time.

I'm going to begin with probably my favorite Niflheim demon since today morning.

You have no idea how BAD I wanna know how he ended up surrendering his role as a king even tho he still wants to be the king, just how powerful Bephegor is?

Now a question I've always had that has nothing to do with this post, Who is actually the strongest king? Because every noble says their king is the strongest (except Andrealphus, if I'm not mistaken he said Beelzebub was the one)

But if we put some head into this question, Lucifer should be the strongest, but when they bring up the strongest king in the game either in the story, cards, or events, no one mentions him.

I don't know.

Something that seems interesting to me about his description is that:

They describe Niflheim as a lawless city, which is quite the opposite of what all of us thought since it's a military land and shit.

Did Niflheim become a "Lawless city" because of him and that's why Belphegor dethroned him, or did it become like that because of Belphegor?

And the fact that Agaros is described as the most insane guy in hell is ... crazy.

And gets even crazier when we remember Glasyalabolas, Abaddon itself, and Andrealphus are out there.

Also, it's said that he doesn't recognize Belphegor as his king, and unlike a certain jealous king that we know could never tolerate that, Belphegor probably doesn't give a fuck or is too lazy to bother, so he let him be.

Now, Vassago

Listen, I don't want to judge him this quick, but if there's something I don't like about some characters of the game, is when they are overly and extremely loyal and obedient to their kings, and it's something really common in whb, I like when the characters don't make that their whole personality and even when they're a bit rebellious, some examples are Glasyalabolas, Barbatos, Paimon, Leraye and more.

The thing is that Vassago seems to be the greatest of these types of characters, but again, I'm not going to judge him so soon, I'll wait until we get more information about him to give a more objective opinion.

Then we have Beleth.

I love his eyes omg, they look really simple but there's something about them.

I know the game doesn't respect much the fact that the nobles have ranks in the Ars Goetia, but Beleth is a king, and Agaros is a duke, and it would've been great if they switched their names, I don't know, I don't pay much attention to this since it's a game at the end of the day, there's no need to follow the canon.

Either way, Beleth is like a king in Niflheim, specifically a De Facto King, which according to my mom, is a leader who leads without being authorized to, and yes, this a very resumed definition, we still don't know why this happened, I had my theory that Beleth does as he pleases with Niflheim and Belphegor lets him because he's too lazy to bother, but it's said in his description that he let's people know that the one in charge is Belphegor so my theory doesn't make much sense.

I hope they clarify this in the event because this Niflheim lore seems reaaaaaally interesting.

Also, I think we all noticed, but now we know why he has so many bite marks, the dude gets laid every day and he probably hides a monster down there.

And Belphie and Him have matching horns AGhhh how cute (I have my theory that that's not a horn, but okay)

And now the main guy of the day.

I still have no idea what his kink is, as much as people explain it, I don't get it.

At this point, I think PB is inventing kinks because there's no way.

Him having Narcolepsy is expected, my bets for his mental illness were that and insomnia, maybe one of the reasons he doesn't appear (aside from him being literally the demon king of sloth) is because he has a very serious case of narcolepsy, but I don't know, we'll have to wait until we meet him.

I said this in a post I did before, but I love that he's 1cm taller than Satan and his dick being 0.1 cm bigger, PB did this on purpose obviously and I can't wait to see interactions between them.

Since we don't have an actual description of him, I can't say much, i just know I love him.

So far I think this is the most interesting kingdom, there seems to be a lot of lore behind them and I absolutely love that, I hope we get a lot of information in the event because of my calculations are right, there’s going to be a looooooong while until we can finally meet them in the main story (and since PB is taking so long with the chapters, I don’t expect them to come to the main story until next year)

#whb #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in “hell” is bad?#whb belphegor #whb agaros #whb vassago #whb beleth #whb niflheim #pinkgy thoughts

39 notes · View notes

eerna · 3 days

Note

Hii wanted to bring this up to you because i love your tfota discussions(and other fandoms as well). i've noticed that a lot of the target audience for this series is very superficial and don't really appreciate and understand the series in its entirety but you always have great points.

so anywaysss with that being said. something that sort of made me side eye tpt a little was jude and cardan. obviously characters change overtime and i think the fact that jude and cardan sort of started to resemble each other in indirect ways is a nice little detail but i felt like some of their interactions were very unnatural. it felt like hb was feeding into how a lot of the audience sees them which isn't terrible but it feels the slightest bit out of character. like what did it for me specifically was in the end when jude excuses herself by saying she was going to go yell at people. i mean jude has always been very sarcastic and witty but it seemed weird for her to say that, it felt like one of those incorrect quotes. like yeah she probably would be yelling at people but would she really say that? like basically it's just very small things that seem like fan service more than intentional writing ya know? now don't get me wrong i love them and i shamelessly enjoyed all of their appearances i also think they were still pretty consistent as characters but it's basically that it seemed like things they said were only there to please the public which fed onto the whole superficial view the general audience has of them.

Hiiii! I definitely miss a lot of stuff so I wouldn't dare claim I get an entirety of anything, but I am very glad you enjoy my discussions nevertheless~

I get what you mean! For me it was that Jude "knife wife" line, and Cardan complaining about the snake thing. Knife-wife could have been funny if it was written smarter and not literally quoting a fandom meme. If we wanted to have a comedic moment where Cardan complains about something gross and Jude shuts him down, it could have been a new thing instead of an event that happened ages ago that we've seen on-page. It reads like a parody, the self aware "haha"s are so awkward. HOWEVER. In theory I wouldn't mind them being written as funnier than they used to be. Like you said, they are a decade older than the last time we've seen them, and they've solved most of the issues that made them not want to joke around during the trilogy. And it's also amusing bc HB said she had problems figuring out what an almost-thirty-years-old Cardan would be like, so the fact that she settled on "clown uncle" is hilarious.

Which leads me to my main problem with it: The things that make them fun aged-up epilogue versions of themselves also make them worse main characters. Jude and Cardan in their late 20s are by default much less interesting than Jude and Cardan in the middle of their young adult angst unsolved trauma roller coaster. They should join Roiben and Severin in the lineup of side characters that are still plot relevant, but no longer the center of attention, which would make their shallower presentation less noticeable.

#siriwhattimeisit #eernask #eernask talk tfota #like when i first read tfota roiben and severin read like regular ass side characters. which is SO impressive bc i didn't notice that it wa #actually fanservice. and that's the ideal way to revisit your old characters in a new series #ianthe's outfit in NtN will always be one of my fav examples of fanservice that makes sense and doesn't take you out of the story #i've already explained my conspiracy theory that TPT was written the way it was bc people didn't like TSH so HB had to go full fanservice

23 notes · View notes

sjsmith56 · 17 hours

Text

Cold Hearted

Summary: AU one shot. A marriage of convenience between the son and daughter of two CEOS to benefit their companies leads to a friendship between the couple, then more.

Length: 6.7 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, unnamed and undescribed female character. She is occasionally referred to as “Sweetheart” or “Pretty girl.”

Warnings: unresolved emotional trauma, Bucky is a bit of a party boy at first, loneliness, unrequited love, feelings of worthlessness and betrayal.

Author notes: There’s some angst in this but it’s part of the growth process for the couple as they learn to trust and rely on each other.

🥂 🏥 🐚

It was just a business deal according to my father. I marry the son of his biggest competitor and they signed an agreement to split the market between them. It sounded like something a mob boss would ask of their daughter, but my father wasn't in the mob, at least not so far as I knew. He was the CEO of a billion-dollar company, just like the competitor was and both of them had spent almost two years fighting to corner the market for a stupid product that would be outdated in a year, two at the most. Then someone, a VP or maybe my father's mistress (same person) suggested a marriage of convenience. After all, you wouldn't screw over family. So, here I was, standing in a church next to a total stranger, both of us facing the minister as he droned on and on about the sanctity of marriage.

We each said I do, when it was asked of us, then put a ring on each other's left hand, while not once making eye contact. When it was time to kiss, he looked at me then and kissed me hurriedly on my cheek; his blue eyes looking quickly away as if I was something unexpected. We signed the register, were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. James Barnes, then he offered me his arm and we stepped down the aisle towards the open doors at the end of the church. All I had to do was pull away from him, sprint through the doors, hail a cab and I could run away. But I didn't. I took the long walk, stood in the receiving line, shook hands with my father and my new father-in-law's business colleagues then was told it was time to leave. My husband offered me his hand, led me out the doors, past the people throwing rose petals at us and into the limousine. Our wedding party piled into the second vehicle. At least it was quiet in there and as it pulled away; he looked behind us then let out a breath of air, seemingly glad that was over with.

"You thirsty?" he asked. "I think there's water in the mini fridge."

Without waiting for an answer, he opened it, took out two bottles and uncapped one, offering it to me before he opened his, draining half of it almost immediately. I sipped mine several times, then placed the cap back on.

"What did you father offer you to do this?" he asked.

I looked at him. "Nothing, just said I better do it if I wanted to still be part of the family and get my inheritance."

He frowned. "That's cold. My dad offered me $10 million. I talked him up to 25."

I looked out the window. Swell. My husband had to be paid to marry me.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I guess that sounds crass. You seem nice but I'm not the faithful type. I like my freedom."

I looked at him. He was a handsome man and in real life would never look at someone like me. He was all nightclubs, parties, exotic vacations and I was a quiet, shy wallflower, who had only ever had a handful of boyfriends. At least he was honest, if telling me he wasn't the faithful type meant he was probably going to cheat on me.

"James, you know the contract stipulates grandchildren, at least two."

"I know. I thought we could use IVF. I wouldn't expect you to sleep with me." He was quiet for a moment. "Call me Bucky. It's my nickname. James is what my father calls me when he's about to chew me out about my lifestyle."

"Okay. So, we'll have separate bedrooms?" He nodded.

"If you want but I won't bring anyone home," he said. "I wouldn't embarrass you like that and I'll be as discreet as I can." He frowned. "Your dad say anything about the divorce agreement in two years?"

I looked at him. "No, what divorce agreement?"

"You get $100 million as a settlement plus a house and a car, child support. I saw the papers and you signed it."

My mind went blank for a moment. There were so many documents that I signed when this was proposed, and I just put my signature where the lawyer said. Why wouldn't they make it known I had a divorce agreement?

"I can ask my lawyer, if you wish," he said. "I mean, you are my wife now, and your wellbeing is my concern. I'm not a complete cold-hearted asshole."

I smiled at him, and he squeezed my hand then he drank some more of his water. We pulled up to the reception venue and waited for the driver to open the door. Bucky got out, then offered me his hand to get out. There were several flashes from the paparazzi, as Bucky was well known in certain social circles, then we hurried inside and made our way to a private lounge for our formal wedding pictures. As the pictures of me and my attendants were being taken, I noticed Bucky talking animatedly with a man. He seemed bothered at what the man was explaining then when he was called for our pictures he turned to him.

"Get it done," he said. "It's not fair and I'll expose the whole thing right now if it isn't fixed."

He smiled at me as he approached, then stood where the photographer told him, right behind me. As the photographer directed the others into position he leaned towards my ear and spoke in a low voice.

"My lawyer said you signed over the proceeds of the divorce agreement to your father. I told him that was false, as you didn't even know about the agreement. If they don't fix it, we'll get an annulment and he'll get nothing. Since I already got paid by my dad, I'll give you half. It's only fair." My mouth was open, and he placed his hand under my chin, closing it, as he grinned. "I told you, I'm not an asshole, well, at least not to those who are my friends."

My smile during the photographs was genuine. It had been a long time since I had anyone that stood up for me; certainly not my parents or any of my siblings. My grandmother, before she died, was the last person who ever advocated for me, and I had forgotten how good it felt to have someone in my corner. When the pictures were done, Bucky went over to a table filled with liquor bottles and poured out shots for everyone. I looked at him dubiously, as I wasn't much of a drinker.

"Come on, it's your wedding day," he smiled. "Open your mouth, pour it in and swallow."

I did as he said, feeling it burn down my throat. He laughed then did his own shot, before pouring another. With his encouragement I drank that one, then another before the wedding planner came in to say we had to make our entrance. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me out the door and waited for the rest of the wedding party to go in as they were introduced. Then it was our turn and he looked at me, then smiled.

"You ready, Mrs. Barnes?"

I nodded and we danced our way into the reception room, as the guests clapped in time to the music. As we passed my family's table, I noticed my father was glaring at me. Bucky noticed too and leaned in close to me.

"Kiss me," he said. "Let your dad know that we're fucking with him."

"He'll be angry," I answered.

"So? Let him. He's arranged this so that only he benefits from this marriage. You deserve a piece of the action."

He twirled me around until our lips were just inches apart, then with an almost evil grin, he kissed me, and I kissed him back. As the guests hooted and hollered, we gave them a good show, then he stood up and pumped his fist in time to the bass beat in the song. I looked at my dad again and he was livid. Before the wedding, I would have been terrified of my dad being like this but maybe the three shots, the kiss, and the encouragement of my fake husband changed something because I suddenly didn't care what my father thought. Pumping my fist and jumping in time to the music I joined Bucky as we continued our entry dance around the room, before finally collapsing into our seats at the head table. He pushed my water glass to me, while he drank his then leaned close to me again.

"The trick to partying is to stay hydrated," he said. "Always drink water when you drink alcohol. It takes care of the hangover as well."

The evening went way too fast as we ate, drank, danced our first dance (Perfect by Ed Sheeran), then cut the cake, threw the garter and the bouquet. Every time my father tried to come over to me, Bucky whisked me away to dance or to meet some of his friends. When it was time for us to make our getaway, he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and carried me out to the limousine, making me laugh. As soon as we got inside, he told the driver where to take us, then took my hand and kissed it. If I hadn't known better, I would swear that this was a man that really loved me. By the time we got to the hotel, I was quiet again, realizing that everything that Bucky did that night was a lie. It was fun but it was still a lie.

We checked in, went up to the hotel room, where our bags had already been dropped off, and Bucky tipped the bell boy before locking the door. Then he sat on a couch and patted the seat beside him. I didn't come over right away and he looked at me with puppy dog eyes, so I sat next to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Are you always this good of an actor? You had me believing for a moment that you ... that we were real."

"We are legally married," he answered. "I wasn't acting. I had a good time tonight. At first, I thought you were kind of a stick in the mud, but I realized that you just haven't really lived. You've been kept on a pretty short leash by your family, haven't you?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" I sighed. "I don't like confrontation and I tend to let people have their way."

He nodded his head. "Like me. I'm sorry. I was just trying to get you to have a good time. You did have a good time, right?" Bucky was right about that as I did have a good time. I nodded. "Look, if there is anything good to come out of this arrangement one of them will be you allowing yourself to have fun. No matter what happens, I kind of like you, so if we become friends from this, I'll be very happy. Finally, getting you what is due to you is the top priority. I'm not going to let your father cheat you out of what was negotiated."

I smiled at him, then bent over and undid my shoes, slipping them off. Bucky gestured to his lap, and I changed positions, so my feet lay on top of his legs. Gently, he took one foot in his hands and began to massage it. I groaned and made a face as he hit every spot that was sore, making it feel so much better. When he was finished with that, he did the other foot. When I withdrew my feet from his hands, he got up and went to the bathroom, coming out drying his hands on a towel.

"I've drawn you a bath," he said. "Take your time, play your favourite playlist and I'll get set up out here."

"I thought ...." I looked at him, puzzled.

"What kind of husband would I be if I abandoned you on our wedding night? We won't have sex, but we can sleep in the same bed. I'm tired and it's been a long day."

Opening my bag, I took out my toiletries and pyjamas. He grinned at the pink elephants on them, then showed me his pyjama bottoms, with cookies on them. I chuckled, then went to the bathroom and closed the door. When I came out half an hour later, Bucky was changed into his bottoms and a plain white T-shirt, there was soft music playing and a bottle of champagne was open. On top of the bed was a plate of chocolate covered strawberries. Patting the space next to him, he offered me a hand as I crawled on, then poured me a glass of champagne. Holding our glasses up he made a toast.

"Here's to having a good time together, not a long time," he said. "Hopefully, we come out of this as friends because good friends are rare, and you can never have enough good friends."

We sipped the champagne, then he held a strawberry for me as I bit into it, before popping the rest of it in his mouth with a cheeky grin. For an hour we talked about ourselves, growing up in families that were focused on business more than anything else. I learned that Bucky lost his mother at a young age when she died of cancer. He went to boarding school, which he admitted could have made him bitter, but he formed some deep friendships and found some adults to have a meaningful substitute parent relationship with. His college years were spent mostly partying, but he did enough work to get his degree in finance and understood enough about business to agree that this marriage arrangement would keep both of our father's companies from inflicting fatal blows on each other. As I told him about being the quiet child in the family who seemed to always be ignored and forgotten when decisions were made, he frowned and held my hand, kissing it from time to time.

It was easy to talk to him and I cried a little that night. But he comforted me and when my yawns started coming more, he insisted I get under the covers. We curled up and faced each other in the dark. Before I closed my eyes he whispered.

"Sleep tight, pretty girl."

No one had ever called me pretty before.

For the next month, Bucky was pretty attentive. My father finally succeeded in cornering me to ask what the hell I was trying to do by bringing up the divorce agreement. Maybe being so much in Bucky's presence had rubbed off on me because I asked him why the lawyer thought I signed the money over to him. He grabbed my wrist and began to twist it when my husband walked in and quickly grabbed my father's wrist, surprising him with the strength of his grip.

"You don't ever touch my wife like that again," said Bucky, gritting his teeth a little. "I brought up the divorce agreement and was shocked that a father would be so cold-hearted to his daughter to literally try to pick her pocket before she even had any money in it. You want this deal to go through? Then you restore the agreement to what I signed; the money belongs to her. Otherwise, we get an annulment, and you get nothing."

"You can't annul the marriage," huffed my father. "You were together on the wedding night."

"We were but we didn't consummate the marriage," replied Bucky, throwing daggers at my father with his bright blue eyes. "Make sure you amend that divorce agreement and I want to be there when my wife signs it. You got that?"

He released my father, put his arm around me and led me away. We signed the amended agreement two days later that stipulated the money, house, car and child support, when we divorced, would go to me and only me.

Once a week, Bucky went out with his friends, partying. He always wore his wedding ring when the paparazzi took photographs of him and for quite a while he was careful, as there were no pictures of him going off with another woman. I knew he was seeing them, because he would come home smelling of their perfume, before he showered, put on his funky pyjama bottoms and slipped into bed, usually spooning behind me, something that he said he liked even though we had separate bedrooms.

Since the marriage agreement called for two children, Bucky arranged for us to visit the IVF clinic and we both underwent testing. He must have paid the doctor and staff there a lot of money to keep their questions to themselves because none of them ever said anything about why two healthy individuals who just got married didn't make a baby the old-fashioned way. I had to undergo shots to stimulate my ovaries so they could harvest multiple eggs. Then Bucky provided them with semen to fertilize the eggs in preparation for insertion into my uterus. Over the next few months, none of them implanted and I began to develop anxiety about it. He was great, never once blaming me. There were even a couple of occasions when he didn't go out with his friends and stayed home to comfort me when my period started, dashing our hopes once again.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, I realized something, about how I felt about him. It wasn't something I expected, falling in love with a man who made it clear from the start that friendship would be the most he could offer me. For as long as I could, I kept it to myself, not wanting to appear needy to Bucky. He had been wonderful and so kind to me. But after that realization, every time I saw him get ready to go out and knew that he would return smelling of someone else, it was inevitable that I finally said something.

"Don't go out," I whispered, one night, just as he came out of his bedroom, dressed in one of his Armani suits. "Please."

He looked at me as if I was joking then saw the pain in my eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting next to me.

"Stay home," I answered. "Don't go out with your friends tonight."

"I have to," he said. "We're on the VIP list at a new club opening. I'll be back before morning. After a little sleep-in we can spend the day together, maybe take a drive out to the coast." He smoothed my hair, then kissed my forehead. "Sleep tight, pretty girl."

He left without a backwards glance, and I cried. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last, especially when the paparazzi succeeded in acquiring a picture of Bucky and a starlet kissing each other. He apologized but the crack between us was there, and it would only get worse. The night it was the worst was the night I almost died.

We were supposed to be at a charity event together, but he texted to say he was running late, and he would meet me there. Of course, when I showed up without him, I was swarmed by photographers, all of them asking where Bucky was and who he was with. Ignoring them as best as I could I entered the venue and was shown to my table, seated with several other wives of prominent individuals. Even though I had improved my social skills and learned to have more fun, these women weren't inclined to be friendly and after enduring their whispered comments with no word from Bucky I decided to go home. A car service had dropped me off but expecting Bucky to arrive in his car we didn't book a return trip. There were no taxis available, so I began to walk, trying to hail one as I walked. Somewhere, along the way, I began to cry like the pathetic little individual I always knew I was. Funny how quickly I crumbled, when I figured that even Bucky had enough of me.

I woke up in the emergency room, with a bright light glaring down on me, a collar around my neck, a tube down my throat and IVs in my arms. A doctor leaned over me until I looked at him then began asking me questions, but I couldn't speak, not with the tube blocking my voice. He told me I walked out into traffic without looking and was hit by a car. My heart stopped twice but they brought me back. Was there anyone they should call? I tried to point at my wedding ring as Bucky was the only person I wanted to see, but my arms were splinted as apparently, I thrashed around too much when I was out. He figured it out and held up my phone. Painfully, I signalled the code numbers with my fingers, and he unlocked it then phoned Bucky. Returning a moment later he bent over me again.

"He's on his way. Hang in there, okay? Nothing's broken but you do have internal injuries."

I moaned since there was really no other way to communicate. I must have fallen asleep or passed out because when I woke up again, I was in an ICU hospital room, there were the sounds of several monitors, and Bucky was sitting on a chair, with his head in his hands. He looked up at a sound I must have made and immediately came to my side, placing his hand on mine. All I saw in his eyes were guilt and sorrow.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he said. "This is all my fault. I was supposed to be there with you, but I let others distract me and before I even realized that I had missed the whole event I got the call from the doctor."

I closed my eyes, feeling the tears streaming down from them. His apology, though sincere, really meant nothing. He promised to be my friend and instead, he did what my family had done my whole life, ignored me. To me, it was proof that I was truly meaningless in this world, that I was insignificant. I felt a cloth on my face and opened my eyes to see Bucky wiping my tears away with a washcloth. Painfully, I turned my head away from him.

"Please, don't," he begged. "Don't be angry with me. I fucked up. I know I did. I thought we could get through the two years and be friends, but I haven't been a good friend to you."

I still didn't look at him. I wasn't angry but I was disappointed. He tried to take my hand in his, but I pulled it away, bringing a distressed sound out of him. It must have affected me because a nurse came in to check the monitors and suggested that Bucky go home and come back in the morning. He put up an argument, but she convinced him that I needed to rest. Reluctantly, he agreed and bent over me, kissing me on the forehead.

"I'll do all I can to make it up to you," he whispered. "You were the last person I ever wanted to hurt."

He left then and I eventually fell asleep. Those first few days he was there from early in the morning until late at night. His father visited the second day, and I was aware of a fairly emotional whispered conversation between him and Bucky. None of my family visited. Three days in they took the tube out of my throat, confident that my bruised lungs and ribs were strong enough for me to breathe on my own. It still hurt to speak, almost as much as I was hurting emotionally. Bucky watched me with glassy eyes after the doctor and nurse left, seeming almost afraid to say anything. I looked at him, and the tears began to fall again, in earnest this time. Even though my body hurt I sobbed, and he was right there, his chair pulled up to the edge of the bed, kissing my hand.

"How can I make it better?" he asked. "Please, tell me."

"You won't," I answered, my voice raspy. "You made it clear from our wedding day that you weren't the faithful type. We can't be friends anymore."

"No, please, don't say that," he pleaded. "I need you. Don't you know that?"

I shook my head. "I don't know anything anymore; except every time you walk out the door to be with someone else it hurts so much. Loving you wasn't supposed to happen, but it did."

"You love me?" he asked, not quite believing what I was saying.

I looked away, then nodded my head. "You were nicer to me than anyone I ever met. Then suddenly you were gone more and then you didn't show up last night."

I covered my face with my hands and wept. The edge of the bed dipped slightly as he sat there, then he was carefully lifting me up in his arms to hold me.

"I'm sorry." He stroked my hair. "You know there are times I wake up at night and you're talking in your sleep. Strange, weird stuff, about kangaroos and jungle roads, and stuffing your face with hot dogs at a ball game. One night, I spoke to you, and we carried on a weird conversation. When I finally said you should go back to sleep, you said okay. Then you said good night and that you loved me. Just the way you said it I knew you were telling the truth. It frightened me because I'm not a good person. I party and sleep around too much, I spend money like it will never end, and I never once told anyone other than my mother that I loved them. She died, and it got into my head that if I loved someone, I would lose them someday." He touched my wedding ring, running his fingertip on it. "Then I almost lost you and I never once told you that I was falling in love with you, a love that I was scared to feel."

"You don't love me," I scoffed.

"I love that you listen to me and follow my lead, even when you really don't want to at first. I love your goofy pyjamas and how cuddly they make you feel when you're sleeping in my arms. I love that I would rather ... be here in the hospital begging for your forgiveness and love, than partying with people who only want to ignore the real world. With you, I have real fun, where I laugh and feel good about helping you and being there for you, because that makes me feel good about myself."

"That's not love," I murmured.

"Maybe not but I know that I don't want to be anywhere but near you."

I looked at him, truly looked at him and saw a man with bags under his bloodshot eyes, his hair was sticking out at odd angles because he had fallen asleep in the armchair of the hospital room, and he had several days of beard stubble on his face because he hadn't shaved. This from a man who took pride in how he looked. He wasn't dressed well, like he normally was when he appeared in public. He looked like a mess, and it was because he loved me, and thought he had lost me.

"Do you think we could start over?" he asked, those puppy dog eyes suddenly prominent, even in their bloodshot state. "After you get better, we can go away and just be ourselves, without any family or the business bothering us. I don't care where and it doesn't have to be fancy or expensive. I just want to be with you."

"No more partying with your friends at nightclubs?" I asked. "No more sleeping with other women? Just you and me?"

"Just you and me," he repeated. "The only person I want to sleep with is you, when you're ready."

I couldn't help it. I sobbed again and began to cry. Immediately, Bucky began to kiss my face. Then he looked in my eyes, placed his hand on my cheek and kissed me for real, a soft and sweet kiss that said I was the most important person in his world.

He was as good as his word. Once I was released, he leased a guest house on the coast. It was quiet, far enough away from the other houses on that stretch of windswept beach that we could pretend we were alone. We visited farmer's markets, picking up fresh food for meals that Bucky cooked for me, trying but not always succeeding in his attempts. It didn't matter because we were together and that was the real reason we were there. We walked; short distances at first as I got my strength back, then longer where we would take our time and pick up interesting shells and rocks on the beach. Sometimes we kept them, sometimes we tossed them back into the ocean. Not once did he look at his cellphone. In fact, the charge ran out and he left it on the kitchen counter as a reminder that he wanted all of his attention on me. At night, we curled up in front of the fireplace until I fell asleep, and he would carry me in his arms to bed, helping me into my comfy pyjamas, before changing into his own and spooning behind me.

One night we had a storm, with pounding waves, thunder and lightning, and a wind that rattled every window in the house. He held me until I fell asleep. When I woke up, I looked at his sleeping face, admiring his straight nose, defined cheekbones, and the cleft in his chin. He must have sensed I was looking at him because he opened his eyes, those blue grey eyes that seemed to change colour like the ocean did whenever it was peaceful or angry. There must have been something in my eyes that morning because Bucky kissed me differently, then looked at me in a way he never had before. As his hands moved under my top, and caressed my skin, he shifted so that he was looking over me. I nodded yes, and he smiled softly, before kissing me again and pressing his body against mine.

As pieces of clothing were discarded, we explored each other's bodies, responding with soft sounds as we awakened our sensuous side. It was lovemaking that started out slowly, then built in intensity as Bucky showed me physically how much I meant to him. I had never been that intimate with anyone before, even though I thought I had with the few boyfriends of my limited experience. None of the others made me feel what he did and any last doubts I may have had about his devotion to me were erased. I was in love, truly in love for the first time and so was Bucky.

For six weeks we lived in this bubble where only we existed. Then Bucky plugged his phone in, and all the notifications sounded, one after another for almost an hour. He deleted the ones from his partying friends. They were part of his past now. There were a couple from my father, demanding to know where we were. Then there were the others from his father and lawyers. As he read them, he sighed then looked at me and sat in an armchair, pulling me onto his lap.

"When you were in the ICU, I asked my father for a favour," he said. "I asked him how we could take over your father's company."

"Why?" I asked. "Our marriage was the agreement to keep the competition equal with him, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was but when I demanded that your father amend that divorce agreement, he did something stupid and frankly, unethical. He entered into a secret agreement with an overseas company and contracted with them to provide him with the same product at a fraction of the cost. They aren't the same quality, but he is selling them for a bit less than ours, and he makes more profit on them. It's cut into our profits. We'll be alright because Dad's R&D division are already testing the update that would have been brought out at the end of the two years when we were originally going to get divorced. Of course, now, we're not getting divorced."

"We're not?" I asked, my heart racing a little.

"Nope. You've got me for life." He shrugged. "But it means you don't get your 100 million, although you do get a house and car. They were my late wedding presents to you." He cleared his throat. "Do you know how your father has his company structured?"

"No, I assumed he owns and runs it himself," I said.

"Well, he is CEO, but he doesn't exactly own it, at least not all of it," said Bucky. "It's actually shared between your dad, your siblings and yourself. He's never paid you dividends or anything from the company, has he?"

"No, I didn't know any of it," I said. "I feel stupid now, but I always assumed he had total control."

"I think you were kept in deliberate ignorance of it, and he used some shady tax loopholes to keep the money that was yours out of your hands. It doesn't appear he did the same thing to your siblings which led me to wonder why he has always seemed to be so cold-hearted to you."

It was true, my dad never really liked me. I was aware of that from my earliest memories. Bucky's hand on my mine drew my attention back to him.

"He's not your dad." I opened my mouth then closed it. "He was married to your mother when you were born but your father was someone else. The company was her's and he had no choice but to declare you as his daughter at your birth. When she died, she left the company divided up between all of you."

"My mother's not dead," I said.

"She's not your mother, she's your stepmother," he replied. "Originally, she was your dad's mistress. He married her a month after your mother died, when you were two years old. Since then, your father has cheated you out of everything that should have been yours."

"What do I do?" I asked.

"You could launch takeover plans of your own, but I think it would expose you to investigation and possibly prosecution if the full story of how your father operates becomes public." That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing considering how he cheated me. Bucky smiled a little. "I think you should turn him in. Report him to the FBI, the IRS, and any other regulatory agency that oversees corporations. They'll freeze all the assets of the company while they investigate and once they confirm what my dad found out; you won't be a subject of investigation. You'll be recognized as a victim of a long-term plan to swindle you out of your inheritance. You can even bring a private civil suit against him. At the least it will expose your father and your family to some pretty intense public scrutiny. There might be some criticism about you, but I'll be with you while this happens, and I won't let anyone associate you with them."

I considered his words. For someone who said he barely passed his university courses he sounded pretty sure of himself and of what we should do. Just at that moment I felt like I had to throw up and I ran from him to the bathroom, emptying my stomach. His hands were on my hair, gently pulling it back so it didn't get soiled. Then he gave me a glass of water as I sat on the floor. A strange but satisfied smile was on his face.

"You haven't had a period since we first got here," he said.

I stopped drinking the water and looked up at him. "Do you think I'm pregnant?"

He shrugged then kneeled down to play with the ends of my hair. "Maybe. We can pick up a pregnancy test on the trip back to the city."

Something occurred to me. "The grandchildren clause ... who asked for that?"

He smiled. "My dad. I'm an only child so he wanted to make sure that I had heirs before I died because of my partying ways. If you are pregnant, I'll be happy and so will he. I'm going to be more involved in the company but not to the extent that you feel left out. In fact, my dad thinks you might be a good fit for the Board of Directors. We can work together and take over managing it when he retires."

"I don't know anything about business," I protested.

"I'll teach you," he smiled. "Say yes, to staying as my wife, the mother of my child, and partner in business. There's no one else I want to have it all with."

I agreed and his smile lit me up inside. When we returned to the city, the lawyers that his dad retained helped me turn my father and siblings in for the irregularities of how they ran my mother's business. Like Bucky said, several agencies became interested, and they confirmed that I had been cheated out of tens of millions of dollars worth of income and compensation. There were many shady deals they engaged in, and even the ones that weren't shady, like the marriage arrangement between Bucky and me, weren't always honoured. It took a long time for the whole thing to wind its way through the legal system but when it did, it was my company, and mine alone, as the Board of Directors fired my father and siblings after they were forced to divest their holdings in order to pay years of back taxes on the income they didn't declare. When Bucky's father, George Barnes, proposed a merger I accepted, being offered the position of Chief Ethics Officer in the combined companies.

There was something else that happened. On the way home from the coast, we stopped and picked up a home pregnancy test. The next morning, we waited as the stick processed the urine sample. The word Pregnant appeared and we accepted that our life was going to change. Bucky left behind the party lifestyle completely, becoming the partner in life I had always dreamed of. When our son was born, he was hands on as a father and stayed that way with each child we had, four in all. Some people said we lived a charmed life, but it wasn't always that way.

I never felt truly loved until I survived my accident and confessed my love to my husband. Bucky, who had dealt with his own trauma of his mother's death and being sent to boarding school at a young age, had lived a life of shallowness, afraid to truly be intimate with anyone, until he almost lost me. Our sham marriage ultimately brought him and his father closer together, healing the rift that had kept them apart. With the trust we built between us we formed a new family, made richer by the birth of our children. Although my biological father was dead, he did have children, born after his affair with my mother. We got along well, and they became my new siblings. Whatever cold-hearted life I suffered before I agreed to marry a man I didn't know didn't matter, as Bucky and I showered our own family with all the love we could muster. Above all else, we were happy.

One shots masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #bucky barnes au #marriage of convenience #business deal #friends to lovers

25 notes · View notes