#begrudgingly engaging in self-care

[compulsiveobsessing]

person with chronic headaches that have many known triggers, after sleeping way longer than usual and barely eating or drinking for like 12 hours: wow this horrible headache is so unjustified and unexpected

[l-uminescent]

˚⁀➷｡˚ KINSLAYER ━━━ AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM! READER

part two.

synopsis: rhaenyra’s daughter seeks revenge for the death of her beloved younger brother lucerys velaryon. and what better way to gain it, than from the man she was once betrothed to.

notes: did i steal daemon’s plot? yes. did the reader do it better? also yes. fuck aemond targaryen (who is 22 here) for killing lucerys fr, and fuck tumblr for making me repost this bc they shadowbanned me :(

warnings: reader is rhaenyra’s daughter, angst, violence, mention of blood, future hotd spoiler (battle above the gods eye)

word count: 3.9k

ONCE UPON A TIME YOU HAD THOUGHT YOU HAD KNOWN WHAT LOVE HAD FELT LIKE. being betrothed to none over than aemond targaryen in an attempt to ensure peace between the divided targaryen house, had gave you a sense of hope. the childish crush you had on the one-eyed prince had long exceeded into your adulthood (unbeknownst to you for a long while). and the news that you were to be married to the man you had felt so deeply for, had you thanking the gods that you were to be so lucky. 

for much of your adulthood, you denied the feelings you had for aemond. brushing the giddiness you felt when you were younger off as a fleeting childhood crush. now, the crimson paint that adorned your cheeks you put down to a sense of duty; you had to act the blushing bride in order to do your part for the realm. your mother's constant reminders that it was you who could maintain the peace between dragons, made you believe it was a sense of duty to your house; to prevent the bloodshed and the path to destruction that would follow if blood was spilt. as time went on, you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that maybe, just maybe, the small minuscule crush you had on the prince, in fact never left. you often reflected on the times where you had lived in king's landing with your family, often choosing to spend time with the second son of the king. you two were inseparable, where aemond went you were sure to not be too far behind. often, challenging each other on who would learn the most high valyrian words in a day, and who would learn the history of their ancestors first. it was a match the gods intended.

however, this sue for peace had crumbled completely. only a mere memory in your mind of what could have been if the targayren house was not so ignorant to the fact that women had much of a right to ascend the throne (you had king jaehaerys to uphold much of the blame for this decision). and now, the house was at war with one another. the dance of the dragons was surely to follow, leaving nothing but war across the realm and your poor broken heart.

the death of your brother lucerys did not seem to help with the feeling of heartbreak that effected life upon dragonstone. you spent many days and nights cooped up in your chambers. there was no one to turn too. yes, you sought comfort with your mother but she too was a shell of her former self. with jacaerys many miles north in winterfell, and your husband the murderer of such an innocent boy, you were left with nothing but your own reckless thoughts. as the sun rose in the east and set in the west day after day, your pain and suffering festered into a new, dark feeling within you. the sadness within was replaced with a craving of utter revenge. the lovesick girl, eyes wide with care and awe was shattered, replaced by a woman no, a dragon, who would go to any means to avenge the cruel death of her sweet younger brother. the love you had felt for the man you once were engaged to disappeared the moment you had learnt what he done; marring any chances at evading the war that was surely to follow. you swore to seek revenge with fire and blood. in whatever means the gods meant it to happen. 

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

the small council met as the sun lays lazily high in the sky, providing the normally dark and gloomy room with a sliver of light that is often uncommon on the island of dragonstone home to dreary weather most of the time. you welcome the sun in all its glory, soaking it in as you stand next to your brother jacaerys as you listen to the squabbles between the men as they discuss the course of action to take next. small crescents dawned under your eyes, reflecting the many sleepless nights you have come to known. the tiredness you feel currently now and all throughout the days since luke's passing has become an old friend to you, one that is begrudging to leave. you tune out, the effects of another sleepless night and your lack of interest in the bickering that is beginning to fester amongst the lords and your mother is boring you. instead, your eyes are captured by the ball of fire that lay millions of miles away. you weren't all that religious, if it came down to it you preferred the valyrian or old gods in favour of the seven. but there was no doubt the glistening embers that rained upon the room was a good omen. you were sure lucerys was looking down upon you, he adored the few sunny days on dragonstone, and this brought a small smile to your face. 

you hadn't realised just how deep in thought you were until your brothers voice broke you out of whatever hazy trance you were. despite tuning out, you had gathered the basics of the discussion - ser criston cole had set his eyes on rooks rest, and a dragon was needed to defend the castle. jacaerys' proposition to fly vermax was quickly shut down by your mother, deeming the boy as too inexperienced in battle and the dragon too young. 

"i will go." 

the words escaped your lips before you even had a chance to think them through properly. the feeling of revenge running through your veins was more than enough to spark this confident outburst. it had to be you who would go to rooks rest. you did not understand why this feeling was so apparent, whether it be the good omen in the sky, or the smile that had graced your lips for the first time in many moons at the thought of your brother being the one who sent it. but the need to take seat upon your dragon silverwing and fly to rooks rest settled in your soul as a desire you needed to fulfil. you knew immediately your mother would never agree to this, already refusing jacaerys to go meant there was absolutely no possibility she would let you go. 

"no. you too lack the experience that is needed in battle. i will not lose another child to this war." rhaenyra's voice trembled slightly with the mentioning of lucerys but she held strong with her decision to not let either of her elder children fly to battle. the mentioning of luke only feeding the fire in your blood, the need to seek revenge for his passing. 

looking up at your mother, you knew she had understood this as it was plainly evident on your face. alas, rhaenyra could not deny you had your mother's stubbornness and your father's strength. "mother, the entire council knows it is far too dangerous to risk the lives of both you and jace. queen and heir. send me, your grace. silverwing is used to battle and if war and bloodshed is sure to follow with the greens still bot bending the knee to you, then we must become acquainted with it." 

her eyes softened as she gazed upon yours, you reminded her so much of herself in her youth. the fire that burned within you mirrored that of hers. the want to prove yourself as more as weak was apparent, when many men had deemed you fragile due to the gender you were born as, you felt the urge to prove them wrong, just as your mother had felt, still feels with the many lords at the council who still see her as the weaker sex. she knew you were going to fly to battle whether she permitted you leave or not. and with a slight of her head you knew her answer. her lilac eyes gazing into yours with such intensity you knew the message conveyed. be safe, sweet girl.

another voice a the council spoke up, one you weren't expecting to hear. your grandmother, rhaenys. "you must send me as well, your grace. meleys is no stranger to battle, like silverwing. two dragons will be better than one, if the greens decide to also send a dragon to battle."

you were shocked that your grandmother was to fight so willingly for your mother's claim to the throne but yet, the more you pondered the less surprised you were. she too was a woman who should have ascended the throne, the queen who never was, yet king jaehaerys passed over her claim as a count of being weak as she was a woman. gods you hated the man sometimes. 

you were no stranger to the care of your grandmother. she knew straight away that her son was not actually your father, you were born a bastard, fathered to ser harwin strong yet she loved you nevertheless. just as coryls velaryon had favoured young luke, rhaenys, favoured you. your dark her reminded her much of her mother jocelyn baratheon and the way in which you clung to her as a child reminded her so much of leanor. she had grown to love you as you her, and refused to see you alone on the battlefield. 

"come granddaughter, we have much to prepare." rhaenys spoke softly as your mother dismissed the council, guiding you with her hand on the small of your back. giving one last nod to your mother, you notice the look of such fierce love in her. the promise of suffering she would bring if you were hurt. yet, the only thing rhaeynra could do now is pray to the gods above that her only girl would return to her safely. and by the gods she did.

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

silverwing was just as mesmerising as the day you claimed her at the tender age of  ten and three. her silvery scales often reminded you of the stars that hung from the sky. glistening intently as you often sat at your window deep in thought. such a docile creature, you could not help but fall in love with her kind nature; a dragon who was most friendly to strangers. as you approached her now a small smile once again graced your lips. the she dragon bent down to greet you, pressing her snout to your hand in a sign of understanding. the intelligence of the dragon was also something that had drawn you to her, she was able to sense every emotion you felt. she had known you were grieving and did not hold it against you that you had neglected to visit her. instead, she blew smoke from her nostrils, and you could have sworn she wore a toothy grin. silverwing was glad you had returned to her. 

flying your dragon had somewhat eased the dull ache that seemed to have made a permanent home in your heart. the ocean beneath you and the wind in your hair brought a sense of relief. this was home. you had miss flying your dragon across the realm, watching as the landscape beneath you changed from countryside, to villages, to oceans and to cities. it was freeing. as fast as she was, silverwing was no match for the speed in which meleys, your grandmother's dragon, flew. as she soared effortlessly through the sky, your dragon tried her hardest to keep up. 

"don't push yourself silverwing. meleys is a fast dragon. " you uttered calmingly to your dragon in high valyrian, stroking her scales softly in a show of comfort. oh how you missed speaking the language too. "calm my sweet girl, it will be okay."

as you finally caught up to rhaenys, the two dragons held pace with one another as you surveyed the fields below. ser criston cole's army had been spotted approaching rooks rest. the elder women held your eyes. a message passing through the two of you to get this done as quickly as possible. and with a cry, meleys delved to the army, silverwing not far behind her

a mix of anxiety and adrenaline coursed through your veins. you were petrified at failing the mission and returning to your mother's disappointed face with the castle in the hands of the greens. yet the pure adrenaline of gaining your revenge from those who supported the man who usurped your mother's throne and took your brother urged you to keep going "attack silverwing." you called out causing the dragon to plummet to the ground to attack those below.

the field that was once riddled with soldiers was now nothing but flame and smoke. red heat from the lips of your dragon had engulfed almost the entirety of the battlefield. the flames below you were nothing of the flickering of the candles in dragonstone that brought you comfort. no, the flames you caused mirrored the emotion inside, the intensity of the anger you felt, the betrayal from the man you once loved to cause this amount of pain. 

a sound you had not heard in a long time broke you out of your rage induced comatose. you froze, the greens had come for you. looking up, you recognised the gleaming golden dragon belonging to the usurper king aegon. sunfyre. your anger had only intensified at the man willing himself to fight against you and your grandmother. doubling around the castle, silverwing dipped her sharpened claws into the ocean's water, ensuring a clean cut against sunfyre before rising above the cliffs face, ready for battle. he was no match for that of silverwing and meleys.

despite the adrenaline within, you could not help but worry for your grandmother, as you watched the flames engulf both her and aegon as the dance begun. the women held a dear place in your heart and the image of her being hurt was enough to push you to attack the sun kissed dragon. flying to meet your grandmother, silverwing allowed herself to flip and glide between the flames aimed at you both. the bellows of aegon left a satisfying smirk upon your lips as meleys claws took hold within the belly of the enemy dragon, as you willed silverwing to attack the dragon's wings from above. clawing and scratching at sunfyre, silverwing and meleys both have seemed to have done immense damage to the golden beauty. chunks of the dragons wings had been ripped out and cuts adorned her body, red blood oozing out of her scales. the final blow had been dealt by your grandmother, yet war was far from over as a sickening roar had been heard beyond the trees.

aemond taragaryen had come out to play.

your breath hitched, letting you only to take only shallow breathes as vhagar descended from the trees. you tried to be brave, tried to hold back the tears that were evident in your glassy eyes yet you couldn't. tear drops sprung like rivers cascading down your terror-stricken face as you saw the shining silver hair of the man who had once been the love of your life, and subsequently the reasoning behind all your pain. wrapping the leather reigns that kept you in control of your dragon, you urged her to continue flying around rooks rest. the wind blew harshly as you circled the ashy landscape, drying your tears and making whatever was left stick to your reddened face. as vhagar descended upon the battle in the sky,  hought's swam through your head as you shouted at your dragon to attack, you wished away all feelings of dread. 

in that sliver of calm, you could not help but feel drawn to the sun as it had once again graced you with its appearance. and with lucerys velaryon looking down on you, you knew the gods wanted you to have your revenge in that moment. they had brought aemond to the battle for a reason after all.

flying up to sit side by side with rhaenys, you allowed the hatred in your heart to take over. the fire in your blood burned at the audacity for aemond to dare show his face after all that he had done. 

"it has to be me grandmother." you shouted over the howling winds in high valyrian. the distaste within had spoken clearly, it had to be you who destroyed the man in front of you. you knew rhaneys understood that, but you also knew she carried the same stubborn nature that all targaryen's had come to possess. plowing into vhagar first, it was obvious she was no match for the queen of dragons. sending waves of fire to the boy riding her, melyes took the moment of distraction to tear at the beast's stomach. 

unbeknownst to you, sunfyre had risen again at the sound of vhagar's approach. seeing the flame grown in the dragon's mouth, rhaneys abandoned the attack on the larger dragon, instead focusing on the dragon mere inches from you. ambushing her from the side, meleys' jaws clamp around the neck of the usurper's dragon. in a state of shock, you forced silverwing to the side, gratefulness gracing your features at your saviour. 

nonetheless, it was plain to see that both meleys and silverwing did not hold enough power to over through the two dragon's that had come to fight. with rhaenys preoccupied with the second coming of sunfyre and aegon, it had left you with the battled against  vhagar. having lived centuries you knew that you were no match for her. she had helped with aegon the conqueror's conquest and that alone had gained her much more experience in battle than your dragon would ever come to know.

reality kicked in like a knife to your stomach. understanding what you had to do sent shivers down your spine, but there was no other way.  to kill the dragon you must kill the rider. 

your mind flickered back to the many moments you had spent with aemond over the years. sneaking into one another's chambers at night to tell stories you have read in history books. the days spent in the garden giggling at the idiocy of your family. and as the two of you got older, you recounted the longing gazes in one another's directions, the stammering and blush that rose to your cheeks anytime he was near. the brushing of limbs at the feast as your grandsire had announced the betrothal. 

none of that mattered now. he had made his choice when he decided to slay his kin and you had made yours. 

gazing upon silverwing properly for the last time you spoke quietly "forgive me, comfort my mother when i am gone. i beg of you." the silver beauty squeaked in return, a note of sadness in her tone. she would miss you just as much as she missed queen alyssane, but she would honour your choice gallantly. "fly back to dragonstone when i am gone. i do not wish you to suffer the same fate, my love."

with your mind made up, you willed your dragon to fly to meet aemond and vhagar taking in a shaky breathe as you did. as silverwing glided through the air, her claw's tore through vhagar. nevertheless, the silver beauty had barely left any damage. vhagar's thick skin was almost impenetrable, only small surface wound were left behind from the attacks you inflicted on her. the only thing that kept you alive was your dragon's ability to stray so close to vhagar yet slip effortlessly beyond her reach whenever her jaws made an attempt to kill you both. 

allowing silverwing to deal with vhagar, meant that you were left to deal with her rider; your glassy eyes never leaving  the man who had caused you such suffering. he had grown you noted, his cheeks now hollowed out as if he has been struggling to eat, a dark crescent clear under his one good eye. the hate in your heart weakened, you had almost felt an ounce of sympathy at his obviously heartbroken state. you wondered if he had regretted his actions; had regretted pushing you away. you wondered if he blamed himself for what had happened that night, if he had really meant to kill luke on purpose. but you also knew you would wonder these things for the rest of your life if you let him live. no matter how much remorse he truly felt within you could never forget his actions, the way in which he took pride in what he did, bragging about being the first to spill blood in this horrific war. and that was enough for you to keep fighting.

pulling away from vhagar for a final time, you flew back around the castle unstrapping the saddle you had on silverwing, tossing it to the wind. unstrapping the sword, daemon had given you from your twentieth name day, you held it in your palm with such force that your knuckles began to whiten. as silverwing set her sights on vhagar once more, a final sound of pain came from your dragon as she knew what you had planned to do. knowing there was no way in changing your mind she flew above the dragon and its rider, positioning you perfectly in what you aimed to do. 

holding onto one of the many talons in her back, you allowed yourself to stand upon your dragon's back, the sword still tight in your hand. your eyes had never left that of the icy lilac that sat below you. the mix of fear and understanding stood in his, as he knew what you were about to do a second too late. the shock of realisation came as he tried to unfasten the straps that kept him tied to vhagar. she was too big of a dragon to move in time for what you were about to bestow upon the targaryen prince, and it was too high of a jump for him to survive.  

jumping from your dragon's back you let your mind to once again reflect all the love you had for aemond taragaryen. allowing yourself to find comfort in the fact that you had known love in your lifetime.

and as you drew the sword through him, you felt no remorse. a debt had been payed. revenge had been served. for luke.

but, there was no escaping the torment your heart inflicted upon you in the moment your sword pierced his only good eye. you had thought aemond would hold loathing at what you had done in his final moments, but all he felt was abhorrence for himself. driving you to the point of sorrow and grief where you had felt like you could do nothing more than seek revenge for what he had done. whispering a soft "i love you'' before you had pierced him, gave you the closure you had needed. those three words had answered all the questions that had played over and over in your mind, running rampant through your darkest hours.

the history books recalled that you had died peacefully with no call of a dragon to save you. you had plummeted to the ground with the man you had loved, knowing you had avenged your sweet innocent brother lucerys and had come to learn aemond had regretted his actions dearly. this was truly enough for you to die happily. and that you did.

[tteokdoroki]

THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending  - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel?  TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back. 

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work. 

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him. 

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much. 

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think. 

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together. 

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed. 

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window. 

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick. 

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY. 

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace. 

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious. 

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami. 

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time. 

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you. 

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute. 

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk. 

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you. 

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?” 

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol. 

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.”  the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.” 

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him. 

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.” 

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“ 

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.” 

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.” 

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper. 

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?” 

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!” 

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

 “then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.” 

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?” 

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.” 

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…” 

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin. 

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles. 

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe. 

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo,  kids,”  he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy. 

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss. 

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss. 

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami. 

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,” 

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event. 

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office. 

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia. 

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper. 

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time. 

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you —  happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents. 

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.  

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home. 

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to. 

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift. 

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you. 

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him? 

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.” 

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.” 

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves  friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.” 

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.” 

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle. 

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly —  his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions. 

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays. 

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all. 

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.” 

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice. 

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as  just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?” 

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?” 

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.” 

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.” 

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?” 

“pardon?” 

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up. 

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.” 

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?” 

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady. 

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart. 

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.” 

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“ 

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.” 

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve. 

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple. 

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

How do you feel about the fact that Katsuki’s apology and his death are not brought up again? I was really sad they never talked about it all. Do you have any headcanons for when/how/if they ever talk?

Dear anon, you've activated my trap card.

By which I mean you've asked me about something on which my feelings apparently vastly differ from those of most people.

To answer your question, I did not expect nor even want a scene addressing the apology again in-canon. Neither did I expect a scene where they discuss Katsuki's death, though I was less opposed to that.

But let me specify this right off the bat: there is a distinction between what I would enjoy seeing and what I think has narrative weight.

And I think that's fascinating to talk about. You asked me how I feel, so get ready!

When people say they wish Katsuki and Izuku had talked about his death, what are they wanting?

Do they want to see Izuku get vulnerable and choked up over Katsuki, shed tears for him? Do they want to see Katsuki see him like that, and watch him soften and let Izuku open up? Do they want to see him take Izuku's hand and comfort him, reassure him that they won, that it's over, that he's still here, and no one is gonna keep him from getting back up again? With the implication that getting back up again means standing at Izuku's side and helping him win?

I sure as fuck do!

But do I think that kind of scene does something for the story, themes, and development of them as characters that what we actually got doesn't do? Not necessarily.

See, stories are not driven by what the audience wants to see.

Stories are driven by what the characters need.

Not what they want, what they need. Often, characters are denied what they want because it does not align with what they need, and this is the very premise of their struggle. Katsuki is a great example of this, because at the start of the story, he wants to feel superior to Izuku, but what he needs is to accept his own admiration of him.

Fanworks exist to give the audience what they want, in a vacuum, totally separate from the linear structure of the narrative. You can just pop into a scene of Izuku crying and have Katsuki kiss him better and that gets us every time, doesn't it?

But in the manga, for a scene like this to exist, there has to be a need for it to address. So, what would that need be?

I think people ask for these scenes because they are under the mistaken impression that Katsuki doesn't understand how Izuku feels about him. And I cannot tell you how much I disagree with this.

If Katsuki didn't understand that Izuku cares deeply for him, then a scene like what I described would probably be intended to tell the audience that he needs to understand how Izuku feels and, up until now, he hasn't.

But that's not true.

Katsuki knows Izuku cares about him.

At the start of the manga, Katsuki is convinced Izuku looks down on him.

Chapter 10

We the audience understand this is projection. Katsuki's admiration of Izuku makes him feel inferior, so he rejects his own self-critical feelings and assigns them to Izuku. No matter how many times Izuku shouts that he thinks Katsuki is amazing, Katsuki's inferiority complex is unfazed.

He utterly ignores it, it doesn't even register for him.

Chapters 10 and 119

Instead he doubles-down on his own frustration and dissatisfaction with himself, engaging from a point of competition, as though Izuku had insulted him rather than complimented him.

This tells the audience that the problem does not lie with Izuku, but with Katsuki himself. Izuku cannot resolve this situation with words, we've seen him try. Instead, Katsuki needs to change his own perspective.

After Deku vs. Kacchan 2, Katsuki accepts—begrudgingly and with great discomfort—that Izuku does not look down on him.

Chapter 120

Even though Katsuki reconciles this, that doesn't change the fact that he is weak. He needs to grow as a person and as a hero. Now, his struggle is not just about his self-perception, but also his real progress.

Chapter 209

We joke about Kacchan being a tsundere, because he is, but part of the reason he rejects Izuku's appraisal of his progress is because he still hasn't met his own standards yet. Katsuki admires Izuku and All Might so much; he knows what they are capable of, he sees the gulf between where he is and where they are, and he is fighting like hell to close that gap.

He won't be satisfied until he does.

Chapters 362 and 409

I've seen people talk about this moment like it is a revelation for Katsuki about Izuku's feelings.

Chapter 359

And, first of all, lemme just say that no villain has ever said a damn thing to Kacchan that he didn't already know.

Chapter 358

ShigAFO's comment does not exist to confirm Izuku's feelings to Katsuki. It exists to signal to Katsuki (and the audience) that ShigAFO knows how Izuku feels, and he is prepared to use it against them.

This is a threat. This is about instilling horror in us and bringing to painful fruition Katsuki's fears about being a weakness people can exploit to hurt Izuku.

But let's not bury the lede: Katsuki would not have these fears if he didn't understand that Izuku cares about him.

Chapter 82

Look at his face and tell me he doesn't know with every fiber of his being that Izuku would die for him.

You could argue that because Katsuki understands Izuku's heroic nature better than anyone, perhaps he doesn't consider Izuku's protectiveness of him unique. Maybe he doesn't understand that Izuku loves him specifically and, to him, this is simply an expression of Izuku's selfless, save-to-win mentality.

But that I counter with two points:

Katsuki is not dumb, guys. He is our most emotionally intelligent and self-aware character. We are shown on numerous occasions that Katsuki can read between the lines and understand someone's feelings without being told (unlike Izuku, who's a damn nerd).

The story arc of Katsuki and Izuku's relationship is predicated on the fact that Katsuki rejected Izuku, but they are both unable and unwilling to truly disentangle themselves from each other. This means that their interactions, across the whole of the series, generally focus on Katsuki accepting Izuku and his own feelings, thereby restoring their relationship. To do this, he needed to both accept himself and better himself.

As a result of the second point, the focus is not on Izuku demonstrating his love for Katsuki as the bridge of change. The fact that Izuku loves Katsuki and wants him in his life is indeed highlighted frequently, but it is often treated as a given.

I've said it before: Izuku's feelings are not the ones that change the most, Katsuki's are.

Now you might say, "Maybe Katsuki doesn't need to hear Izuku's feelings, but Izuku might still need to say them!" And you're right, that is a possibility! Even if it is a given to the audience, there could be something that suggests Izuku saying these feelings out loud would be significant or change something between them.

But that's not what the series tells us.

Izuku does not hold back about the way he feels for Katsuki. Whether he is calling Kacchan a stupid jerk or saying he is amazing, Izuku is not subtle about what he thinks—in fact, these are often his most raw, unfiltered character moments, and they are significant.

Chapter 119

The only significant time Izuku does not tell Katsuki how he feels is his image of victory moment at the end of DvK2.

Chapter 120

My conclusion about this is that Izuku has felt conflicted about his own behavior and thinks Katsuki would reject him if he knew about it, so he chooses not to bring it up.

However, there is still a narrative purpose of showing us this thought, and that is to demonstrate that while Izuku may feel conflicted, ultimately he still accepts his own feelings. Regardless of whether Katsuki accepts him or not, the way Izuku feels won't change, and he's not sorry about it.

This moment exists for a lot of reasons, but chief among them is so that we the audience can see the true shape of Izuku's heart.

And what we see is that he loves and admires Katsuki, no matter how he acts or even what kind of person that makes Izuku.

I liken it to Katsuki's All Might card moment.

Chapter 362

Listen, I would have loved to see my explody boy get his autograph, but the greatest impact of this scene is not in the question of whether he will get one, that's just the tragedy lying on the surface as we witness his death.

No, the most meaningful part of this moment is in how it makes the audience truly understand that he still longs for it, even after all these years.

I wanted Izuku to tell Katsuki he is his image of victory, but the fact that it doesn't happen signals to me that Izuku ultimately didn't need to say those words out loud for that moment to matter. Izuku reconciled the discomfort he felt about admiring Katsuki and embraced his positive feelings for him, and that's pretty damn important.

I can and will indulge in fandom to meet my heart's desires, and that's excellent. But rather than simply feeling disappointed by canon material, I think it is more interesting to allow both what happens in the story and what doesn't inform my understanding of it.

I have been planning an in-depth post about the apology and what I think people are missing when they say Izuku "didn't respond" to Katsuki, but let me just lightly touch on my objections to that line of thinking.

Many people in the English-speaking audience appear to have a very narrow range of actions they consider a "response," and allowing someone else to act upon you for some reason does not seem to count.

If you frame interactions only by what Character A does to Character B and see Character A as the only active participant, you are missing out on a lot.

For example, Katsuki catches Izuku, and we see that as a demonstration of his love, as we should.

But how is Izuku allowing himself to be caught not an action that expresses his feelings? How is the fact that he responded to an apology with his own apology not indicative of how he wants to connect to Katsuki in this moment? How does it not convey what he feels for Katsuki, what he has always felt for him?

Furthermore, I see a lot of people take for granted how silence is a choice, and it carries meaning. Much like with what does and doesn't happen in a story, there is meaning in what people say and what they don't.

Japanese as a language values indirectness; it is not a bug, it is a feature. This is partly to avoid forcing yourself onto others and causing them discomfort, but another part is trusting others to understand who you are and how you feel without beating them over the head with it.

But you'll have to wait for my full post to hear the rest of that idea.

I dunno if this is what you were expecting out of your question, anon, but I hope you enjoyed the ride all the same!

[gabessquishytum]

Vigilante dream! Let’s be honest he is exactly dramatic enough that when he is orphaned, he uses the endless family fortune to become a crime fighting vigilante known as The Nightmare.

The Nightmare roams the streets of Gotham London, known only by the black of his cape and the way he will beat up criminals, leaving them blubbering and tied up for the police.

By day Dream plays the part of the rich fuckboi who sleeps with models and parties on his yacht and causes a pregnancy scare/broken marriage a month.

One dark night, however, Nightmare comes across a young man being harassed by a group of shady criminals in an alley. He’s fighting them off using his laptop bag as a weapon. nightmare intervenes and beats up the attackers but before he can vanish, the man he saved promptly grabs his cape and introduces himself as hob. And then he asks nightmare if he can interview him for the local paper.

Hob is an investigative reporter who pissed off the local mob. He disguised himself as a stripper to infiltrate one of their clubs and got all kinds of very good personal and very criminal intel. They were planning to make him regret it. He’s very grateful that he isn’t going to be worked over and dumped in the river and he is also very eager to give the famous Nightmare a public platform. Lots of people criticize his work but hob believes his motives are good.

Obviously nightmare shakes him off and goes back to brooding on rooftops.

The next time he sees hob it’s at one of Dream endless’s lavish fundraisers. Hob’s there to cover the event for the paper and he looks even better in a burgundy suit than he did in ripped, muddy clothes in the alley. dream was intrigued by him to begin with so this time, as fuckboi dream—the dream everyone wants—he hits on hob, with all the assholery you’d expect from a trust fund baby.

And hob turns his nose up at Dream. He scolds him for doing the bare minimum for the city and expecting hob to just bend over for him because he’s rich.

(…hob still sucks his cock in a coat closet. He can’t help it. Dream has suuuuch a pretty cock.) but still!! Hob chews dream out. Dream is pretty surprised. He doesn’t know what to make of it.

(Lucienne, his Alfred, thinks it’s hilarious.)

Here’s the catch. While Hob doesn’t care for Dream, he is enamored with Nightmare. He puts himself in deliberately dangerous situations hoping to be saved and steal moments of his time. And Nightmare saves him. Every time. Hob savors the five minute conversations he gets before Nightmare vanishes. He tries to engage him in conversation. Nightmare gives one word answers and then melts into the darkness. Hob is in love.

Dream is having a crisis. Somehow his brave reporter crush loves Nightmare, who can never be with him. And while he’ll ride Dream’s cock, he turns Dream down if Dream even hints he wants more. And he can never know they’re the same damn person.

It’ll come to a head eventually. Someone will notice nightmare’s fixation on hob. Plus, hob won’t stop writing damning stories about the mob, and the target on his back is growing. And nightmare is a one-man-army—one day someone will come for his head and just might win.

For now it’s just a hot mess.

I’m literally obsessed with this okay. Dream would be the funniest most cringefail vigilante. Like yeah he’s good at solving crimes, but he’s such a wet cat about the whole thing. And his playboy alter ego is even cringier. As Hob doesn’t hesitate to point out, when he first meets Dream at a city gala.

It’s such a disaster! Hob is only sleeping with Dream to try and get over his major crush on Nightmare, who he thinks he’ll never have a chance with. He even tells Dream while they’re in bed together. Which is equal parts humiliating and hot. He goes on and on about how amazing Nightmare is while Dream fucks him and tries not to seem like he enjoys that way Hob praises his vigilante self. Hob will begrudgingly admit that there is at least a passing physical resemblance between Dream and Nightmare, and that’s the only reason Hob gives Dream a modicum of attention. He does have such a pretty cock (although no doubt, Nightmare’s would be even prettier).

Of course, Hob ends up getting kidnapped by some villains who have figured out that he seems important to Nightmare. He’s basically bait to lure the vigilante in. Dream is in the middle of a business thing and he absolutely panics when he gets sent a video of Hob all tied up in a basement somewhere. He panics so much, in fact, that he forgets to change into his costume. He mounts a rescue with nothing but a Tom Ford suit and a few handy gadgets that he designed.

And Hob is like “what are YOU doing here?” When Dream busts through the door. The last thing Hob needs right now is a trust fund himbo getting his ass kicked in the middle of everything. But Dream doesn’t answer. He unties Hob, sets up a motion activated explosive to blow up the villains, and literally flies out of the basement with Hob in his arms.

And Hob is like. Oh fuck. Maybe I was the himbo all along. But hey, at least he knows that Nightmare’s cock is really pretty!!

Maybe having a rich fuckboi boyfriend wouldn’t be so bad after all… as long as Dream promises to fuck him in the nightmare costume every now and then!

[zapreportsblog]

A Glimpse of Light

➥ summary : Uramichi Omota comes to work for once genuinely happy, wonder why

➥ a/n : this is the third time I’m writing this, tumblr do better. I see why Uramichi Omota is the way he is now with his outlook on life :)

➥ Uramichi Omota x reader, Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan x reader

The alarm clock blared at its usual early hour, and Uramichi Omota, known for his perennially gloomy demeanor, begrudgingly dragged himself out of bed. As the host of the children's show "Together with Maman,” he was accustomed to putting on a bright and cheery façade for his young audience. However, behind the scenes, Uramichi was often a picture of exhaustion and disillusionment.

•••

But on this particular morning, something was different. Uramichi found himself inexplicably energized and with a genuine smile on his face. He hummed a cheerful tune as he prepared breakfast, a stark contrast to his usual grumpy self. His co-hosts and fellow staff members couldn't believe their eyes when they saw him arriving at work with a bounce in his step.

"Hey, Uramichi," one of his co-hosts, Mitsuo, called out, skepticism evident in his voice. "Did you win the lottery or something?"

Uramichi chuckled, a genuine mirth filling the air. "No, I didn't win the lottery, Mitsuo. I met someone, and she's not a complete disappointment."

His colleagues stared at him, jaws practically hitting the floor. Uramichi was infamous for his jaded outlook on life, and his pessimistic comments had become a staple in their workplace. To see him in such a bright and jovial mood was nothing short of shocking.

As they got ready for the day's shoot, Uramichi's newfound energy and positivity permeated the set. The children's show, "Together with Maman,” was usually a hectic affair, with Uramichi guiding the young ones through various lessons and activities. But today, everything seemed to flow more smoothly than ever before.

The children were captivated by Uramichi's animated storytelling and playful interactions. Even the usually rowdy kids were surprisingly well-behaved in his presence. His co-hosts couldn't help but be drawn into his infectious enthusiasm, and the crew found themselves working with a renewed vigor.

During the lunch break, Uramichi's co-hosts gathered around him, curious to know more about the mysterious woman who had managed to brighten his day.

"Tell us about her, Uramichi," Mitsuo prodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Who is this magical person that's turned you into a ray of sunshine?"

Uramichi blushed slightly, a rare sight for everyone present. "Well, her name is (y/n)," he began, a soft smile forming on his lips as he spoke about her. "We met at the park yesterday while I was feeding the pigeons."

The others leaned in, eager to hear more about this newfound romance.

"She's kind, caring, and surprisingly funny," Uramichi continued. "We spent hours talking about random things, and it was... refreshing."

"Sounds like she's had quite an impact on you," one of the crew members remarked, genuinely happy to see their usually brooding colleague experiencing a brighter side of life.

Uramichi nodded, his smile growing wider. "Yes, she has. I can't remember the last time I felt this way. It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders."

The rest of the day went by in a whirlwind of laughter and genuine enjoyment. Uramichi's co-hosts and the crew marveled at the transformation they were witnessing. The children's show had never been more lively and engaging, and Uramichi's positive energy seemed to be contagious.

As the day came to an end and the set cleared out, Uramichi found himself reflecting on the events of the day. He couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected encounter that had brought (y/n) into his life. For the first time in a long while, he looked forward to the future with a sense of hope and anticipation.

Little did he know that this encounter was just the beginning of a beautiful journey, one that would challenge his pessimistic worldview and open his heart to the possibility of happiness and love. Uramichi Omota had found a glimmer of light in the darkness, and he was determined to cherish it and see where it would lead him.

[llondonfog]

In your Living Weapon AU, if we went with the AU of an AU where Silver’s family was cursed when he was an infant… is there any possibility he could age as a Fae, now that he’s cursed as a living weapon? Is there any possibility that he’s still young, still just a child when Lilia first meets him? Can you imagine how much more protective Lilia might be when the human form of his sword is so so small in his arms?

first off i just want to say thank you again for all the verse lore interest!!! <33 i've had a fun time taking these questions back to my au partner and thinking these scenarios through, you guys have given us some new fodder to agonize over haha

for context; in the verse as is, silver's age is frozen at seventeen, and he simply exists until the magestone containing his soul is shattered.

additionally, the fae, lilia included, see the living weapons as nothing more than objects, a means to an end. silver, his family, and all those humans that they ruled over were cursed by the fae queen hundreds of years ago as punishment for their kingdom's avarice, and the fae do not treat them with any sort of dignity or respect. the curse forces the humans to obey their handler without question, and it is "trained" into every weapon that they do not speak nor act without explicit direction from their handler. they are not even allowed to shift into their human form without permission.

that context given, if lilia were to meet a young, even baby aged, silver, he'd absolutely be repulsed and keep the boy in weapon form until he "grew" up lmao the entire senate is snickering seeing gen vanrouge smoldering at the war council when they know that they've given him such a useless, tiny weapon so perfectly suited for his lack of pedigree and short stature. lilia's really not so great a guy in this verse to start out with haha he's very much the epitome of his ch7 flashback self who has absolutely no interest in engaging in any pests children thank you very much!! as much as we'd love him to be protective initially, that possessive and parental nature definitely grows with time as he begrudgingly starts to bond and care for the young man cursed to be his sword.

at the same time, there's that added layer of emotional turmoil with silver since he can recall his own past prior to being cursed. not to mention the distress of becoming emotionally connected to the very fae meant to wield him as a weapon and then dealing with those complicated feelings of parental attachment to lilia, all the while believing that the fae would never see him as anything other than a lowly weapon :')

[feshippingpolls]

"Alfred gets abuse and rudeness from the guy until A support where Rafal begrudgingly admits that Alfred makes him feel a small amount of empathy." To the Rafalfred anti, this entire sentence here reads like a sensationalized fake news headline. I don't usually write responses, but I've never seen a take that is more media illiterate when it comes to Engage than yours, so let me sit down and unpack your logic for a second.

First of all, sending in a NOISE complaint as Rafal does to Alfred in their C support is in no way abuse. Not only that, he immediately removes himself from the scene once he realizes that his words aren't getting through to Alfred, and it's Alfred who follows him. The support involves Rafal indulging Alfred in his exercise and having a revelation about the guy. Having friction between characters and initially expressing discontent about someone's vocal exercise (which Rafal refers to as sweaty grunting) is not abuse. No one has ever misconstrued this support chain as that, but...you alone seem to? Yeah, I don't know about that one.

Rafal is also a character with so much inherent value among his castmates, but you don't seem to be interested in that. Your anon message is already charged and full of hate rhetoric from the beginning, calling him mediocre tsundere which is telling to me.

Love him, hate him, Rafal is the SINGLE character in this game that both gives push back to the avatar and isn't guaranteed to get along with anyone. He has one of the most disturbing backstories in Fire Emblem period that gives depth to why he isn't as nice or as friendly as others. A lot of Rafal's supports involve bickering and back-and-forths. His prickly retorts are either harmless or meant to keep others at arm's distance; there isn't a support partner (Alear, Gregory, Alfred) of his who isn't capable of making that judgment call because they're: a.) emotionally intelligent and b.) can tell that Rafal after a thousand years of ashamed self-reflection over his actions is no longer malicious, which you can't seem to do.

"The poor guy needs someone who would take care of him not someone who would trip him over for laughs." Yeah, no. You hate to see a character remotely offer resistance in a cast that is otherwise relatively well-meaning and puritanical: check. You see things that aren't there: check. You feel the need to woobify and protect Alfred from someone he has a genuine bond with: check.

The third bit is most important, because you pretty much deny Alfred having agency and any sort of meaningful takeaway from his bond with Rafal which is wrong no matter how you interpret their support. These are two men defined and controlled by their weaknesses who start out at odds, and then reach mutual understanding of each other in a way that few others can. Who else can relate to the limitations and struggling that Alfred or Rafal feel by their weaknesses of the flesh?

Rafal even expresses his admiration for Alfred's heart and remarks that he could never match him in that. I'm not romanticizing it, this is literally what happens. He isn't harming Alfred, he isn't looking to "trip him over for laughs", and he's not Nil anymore. If this is the kind of lens you view Engage supports with, I am very concerned with what your take is for others beyond Rafal and Alfred.

[mysticstarlightduck]

🌹 Who's the flirty one and who gets shy and flustered?

Thanks for the ask, @kaylinalexanderbooks!

I'll go with some of the couples from Supernova Initiative!

🌹 Who's the flirty one and who gets shy and flustered?

SUPERNOVA INITIATIVE

Jack & Lyorna

Flustered/Shy One - Jack. Despite being very extroverted and outspoken, Jack is incredibly awkward and shy when it comes to matters of romance. It is partly due to the fact that he is a strongly sex-repulsed asexual who feels too uncomfortable to try and flirt, but also because his self-esteem isn't the best so he doesn't even consider himself flirting with someone as a plausible course of action. He is also, despite his adventurous lifestyle, completely inexperienced (not naive though, he probably knows more than he should lol) when it comes to matters of sex and romance.

Flirty One - Lyorna. But in like a sweet and endearing way. She is aware of Jack's shyness when it comes to flirting and romance, and so her "flirts" with him are generally on the more wholesome, cutesy side, y'know. Like, she loves showing him that she appreciates the things he does and always tries to lift up his self-esteem when she can through subtle ways, so her flirting mostly comes through as a supportive friendship with romantic moments, and Jack rather likes it as it is, even though he was initially clueless to her advances at first. Now, he has gotten to the point where he himself engages in this form of "flirting" with Lyorna, something he would have never have considered possible.

Relationship Song - La Da Dee - Cody Simpson

Vesper & Deimos

Flustered/Shy One - Both (most of the time). Both Deimos and Vesper are pretty emotionally stunted young adults with painfully introverted personalities who often come across as either too harsh, awkward, or strange to strangers. When they first met and had to work together, they weren't even friends, they had a rivalry (like, "I don't like you cause I don't want to" type of rivalry), but begrudgingly realized they had started to care for each other and had no idea what to do with that information for a long, long while lol.

Flirty One - Vesper (on rare occasions lol). She was the first one to verbalize/act out her feelings towards Deimos, though her first attempt was pretty harsh/unromantic (it was very much a "shut up you idiot I fucking love you!" moment, because she hadn't meant to say it, and he didn't know how to react cause he realized he felt like that too). After that she was also the first one to try and be a bit more flirty, though both of them continued equally awkward in their own ways.

Relationship Song - I'm a Mess - Bebe Rexha

Noctus & Aleks

Flustered/Shy One - Noctus. He is very much a serious, "by the book" secret agent who has spent his entire life (that he remembers of) following orders and being the Junction's perfect soldier. He had never considered love and romance as a factor he desired in his life, and when he first met Aleks he considered the bubbly troublemaker as unbearable, but grumpily found himself falling for him regardless. And later, much to his own surprise, found himself breaking protocol for the first time in his life in order to side with and save the love of his life and his friends.

Flirty One - Aleks. He is a very forward, funny kind of guy who is rather vocal about his feelings. Being a "prankster" type, Aleks is more than definitely the kind of young adult who makes suggestive jokes that often come across as the stupidest things in the world (deez nuts kind of jokes, for reference). This is part of the reason why the secret agent was often so exasperated by him and found him so insufferable. Aleks made his attraction to Noctus pretty clear from week one, though initially, he was actually just joking with the "uptight secret agent babysitting the crew" but later found himself actually meaning it.

Pax & Tarah

Flustered/Shy One - Pax. He is a young space cadet who has never dated before in his life and though he is very much up for "breaking the rules" and getting into trouble, Pax is also very much not ready for the level of recklessness and sheer dangerous excitement Gabi has to offer, which makes some of their interactions pretty interesting. Pax does try to be flirty on occasion but those attempts mostly come across as endearingly awkward.

Flirty One -Tarah. She is a very blunt, "speak things as they are" kind of girl, having been raised to be no-nonsense and generally direct. Though her attempts at flirting were initially as awkward as Pax's she quickly got better at it and now is the most forwardly romantic one of the duo - she also is the one who has the most "date ideas", though those ideas often involve at least some form of danger for her to consider them "thrilling enough" lol.

Supernova Initiative Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3, @sleepy-night-child

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[lem-argentum]

ok so fuuta playing final fantasy online [with you?] how would it go

THANK YOUUU FOR ASKING THIS BECAUSE I’VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT A LOT. NATURALLY. 💛💛💛

at first i thought she’d probably think mmos were stupid (she ridicules things she considers wastes of time & money, and they would probably fall into those categories for her) and not engage with them at all.

but THEN i considered…. she really struggles to fit in & find community in real life. so i think the concept of “massive online world where you can play as your ideal fictional self/a beloved hero” would very very much appeal to her. so maybe she’d begrudgingly give it a try, get invested, and then ridicule herself because “dammit how did this happen to me now I’M the stupid mmo player.” it would probably be a secret interest of hers because she’d be embarrassed about it. <3

if he lived IN the xiv universe he would be a dunesfolk lala.fell paladin (i know this because i know this <3.) but PLAYING it….. i think he’d play a x.aela. a x.aela girl specifically, and in his MIND he’d be like “i’m just playing a girl character because i find her attractive .” but in REALITY it’d be because transgender. <333 :) i really wanna say she’d pick h.alone as her patron but the other option would be a.zeyma for the fire… she’s fire…

she would definitely WANT to play a tank class. she wants to be a leader. so she’d probably choose gladiator at the beginning. but then i think she would end up finding it stressful when she gets to actual multiplayer content so she switches to maining a dps class HFNKSND. <3 she LIKES attention but not JUDGMENTAL attention so i could easily see her getting way too nervous about it fknzjfkz. <33

there are some dps classes i’m not suuuper familiar with so i’m not 100% sure what her favorites would be exactly… but she wouldn’t like phys ranged (feels too easy to her). i haven’t touched samurai at all but from what i know it sounds like something she’d like…?? melee, strict rotation, selfish dps, cool sword? yes? sounds like her. i think she’d like red mage too because she’d find the rotation btwn melee/ranged casting engaging, and she’d like having healing/rez skills because it makes her feel important hehe. <3 she would PICK UP black mage because it has the most dps potential and she’d like the idea of that. but then she’d get annoyed at the cast times and drop it HAHA. <33

she wouldn’t like arr because it’s boring and predictable, but also. she does like cool hero moments. she would find some of it cool (r.hitahtyn fight, ultima weapon. she’d hear “the maker’s ruin” and go “…damn this is kind of sick. *adds to playlist*” (<-little does she know this is the moment it would be over for her)). <3

she would like heavens.ward bc that’s when the writing & gameplay starts getting more interesting :) <3 SHE WOULD HAVE A CRUSH ON Y.SAYLE. THANKS. she’d probablyy like storm.blood. she’d think z.enos is cool but also annoying. AND SHE’D LIKE YOTSUYUUU… she’d be entirely into the game at this point but also annoyed at having spent so much time in it HAHA <33

and then ok listen shadow.bringers and end.walker would change her ok. she’s NOT getting out of this unscathed she’s going to have a shb poster on her wall by the end of this HEHEHFKD. okay BECAUSE they’re both like “you’re the cool awesome hero everyone is relying on and you’re very important and everyone is cheering you on. and also you are not alone and everyone is struggling with things as deeply as you are. and people care about you even when you’re not a hero and you’re just yourself and you don’t have to act stronger than you are all the time.” and fnskdDJ I JUST THINK F.UUTA WOULD CONNECT VERY DEEPLY TO THE WOL AND WOULD END UP CARING VERY DEEPLY ABOUT HER CHARACTER AND CONNECT HER TO HERSELF AND. YOU GET IT!!!!??! HERO EMOTIONS!!!!!!!!!!/!!

ANYWAY trying to think of who her favorite scion would be……. i’m tempted to say es.tinien. because she’d be a heavens.ward fan and she’d think he’s cool. he’d also think y.shtola is really cool esp. in shb/ew (and probably have a crush on her too HFKND) <3. and y’knowww. raha would probably be one of his favorites but he prefers him as the exarch (because he’s embarrassed about liking the silly catboy that much. he liked when he was a mysterious ruler EHFKDN) <33.

her favorite dungeons……. the aetherochemical research facility (she likes the difficulty spike in the last boss), baelsar’s wall (same reason), ghimlyt dark (it’s cool, some challenging mechs <3), holminster switch (“…damn this is sick *adds “to fire and sword” to playlist*” HAHA <3), amaurot (SHE IS SO INTO THIS), the twinning (probably her favorite to get in high-lvl roulette), lunar subterrane (she would be soooo into g.olbez’s & d.urante’s story are you kidding). <3

SHE’S DEFINITELY UM. THE TYPE OF PERSON TO BE RLLY INTO LEARNING THE MECHS OF CONTENT. AND SHE LIKES EXPLAINING THE CHALLENGING ONES TO FIRST-TIMERS BC IT MAKES HER FEEL COOL AND HELPFUL… she’d jump the gun and be like “lol well everyone always gets this part wrong. i’ll explain it to them before we get there” and when it turns out they all already know she’s like SHIT. HUMILIATING. (source: i do this sometimes)

she’s probably more critical of others’ mistakes at the beginning but mellows out eventually as she learns she just wants to help & is just excited to share info about the game as she starts to really like it :). <3 and maybe she eventually does make friends in-game. good ending. <3 xiv-player f.uuta is a good reality I KNOW THIS BECAUSE I KNOW THIS… <333

[midnightdangerzone]

Avery/Eden Thoughts

So this has 0 basis in canon (as far as I know), but awhile ago my brain just decided that Avery and Eden are exes and uhh the brainworms increased from there so I thought I'd share.

Before getting into it, I'll note that in my playthrough they're both women so my HCs are definitely influenced by that. Not sure if it'll be obvious or not but I figured it was worth mentioning!

I have 0 idea if this is confirmed/denied anywhere but as far as this goes: Avery and Eden are roughly the same age, a year or so apart at most. I also think of them both as being 30-40, typically mid thirties.

So in my mind, Eden used to live in the town but was already on their way out by the time they were in high school, spending more and more time in the forest, etc. In my mind they had a sorta similar upbringing to PC, either bouncing around foster care or their parents were at least emotionally absent, but they didn't grow up in the orphanage.

IMO they're probably already pretty strong from all the time they spend out in the forest, or probably getting into fights with people.

Given that and the fact that they're pretty anti social, I think in high school they already were considered pretty intimidating, and they had the physique to back it up.

With Avery, I once again have 0 idea on what canon is or what Vrel maybe has said on the topic, but in this very specific context: I think their parents were successful and affluent business people and Avery was regularly expected to show up at rich people parties or whatever. Their parents also would have had Concerns about their child's safety, and probably insist upon a bodyguard.

However, Avery does not want to have a stuffy bodyguard with them at these engagements, they're of the opinion that they can take care of themselves perfectly well, but if their parents are going to INSIST: Avery will find someone suitable themselves.

Which is where Eden enters the picture.

Is Eden interested in Avery? No.

Is Eden interested in this kind of socialite nonsense? Also no.

Is Eden interested in building up some savings so they can be self sufficient and get the hell out of this town? Yes.

Is Avery offering significant pay for what is ultimately very little actual work? They sure are!

So when Avery approaches them about being a bodyguard for them + acting like they're a couple (to a point), and Avery is offering to pay really well for this... Eden begrudgingly says they'll do it at least the one time.

Eden ends up finding the work to be tiring and annoying but less exhausting than any other work they can find, and again: the pay is great!!

They also end up catching feelings for Avery, who turns out to have a good sense of humor and the ability to be incredibly charming. Avery is very aware of this, and whether or not they return Eden's feelings is a mystery, but they're certainly willing to use this to their advantage.

So they end up sleeping together on more than one occasion, and this arrangement goes on for like a year or so. Eden is p sure Avery doesn't return their feelings, but they ignore that. Avery is getting attached, but isn't happy about it.

And then the importance of Avery having a bodyguard becomes very real when they're attacked or something, and Eden protects them, but in the process gets a pretty nasty injury on their face.

Once Avery realizes that Eden is going to have a VERY nasty scar, they end things.

At this point, they're both out of high school and Avery is very aware of how important appearances are. This has been fun, but Avery really can't be seen with someone whose reputation as "aspiring forest hermit" becomes quite hard to deny when they look like they lost a fight with a bear.

Eden is crushed (and angry), and without anything tying them to the town anymore, they fully move into the forest and their half built cabin. Avery dumping them ends up giving Eden quite a complex about their appearance (though other people's comments also contributed).

The two of them never speak again.

(Probably)

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Treat! With Bagginshield please

But of course! 😁

Thorin eased himself onto one of the taller boulders with a grunt. While he was thankful Azog and his mutt had broken anything, he could do without the acute pain every time he attempted to sit. Striking a match, he didn’t even care that it was only midafternoon and much earlier than he would usually allow himself a smoke. Once he was satisfied that he wasn’t about to hurt himself, Dwalin, Thorin’s self-proclaimed shadow, gave him a nod before deciding to wash-up in the mountain stream. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, it’s not like this was the worst injury he had ever received, though he would begrudgingly admit it could have had a rather sudden and grim ending if not for…

His eyes drifted to the hobbit who was rinsing off his shining little blade. Thorin took note of the look of awe and fascination as he pretended to lazily fend off enemies. Water droplets cascading off the surface, gleaming in the midday sun. The effect made Bilbo seem…other-worldly, enchanting even. Thorin sucked in another lungful of smoke, releasing it as he carefully pulled himself back to his feet and stowed away the pipe.

“Master Baggins!”

His tone immediately had the hobbit jumping up, eyes wide, and nose twitching. Earlier in the quest, it had made something clench inside Thorin. Something he interrupted as annoyance, but in light of recent events, Thorin could almost admit it for what it was. Adorable. 

“I highly doubt you’ll be killing many orcs swinging your blade around like that.”

“Seemed to work last night.” Bilbo immediately bit back.

It was such a reflex retort that they were both left stunned. Thorin hadn’t heard Bilbo ever talk back to him before. Rather than looking apologetic though, the hobbit merely tilted his head as if waiting for what the dwarf would do next.

“And for that I am most grateful.” Thorin bowed his head. “But I would much prefer that when you use this blade to save a life, it is not at the expense of your own.”

Bilbo hummed in response, but his eyes were shining brightly. Thorin had to wonder why he had never tried to engage the hobbit like this before, if that was the reaction he was rewarded with. 

“I can see the merit of such a lesson, but are you the best one to teach it to me?”

“I am a well-established warrior.” Thorin bristled.

“You’re injured.” Bilbo pointed out, unimpressed.

“Even injured, I dare say I can teach you a thing or two.” Thorin smirked.

“Is that so?” The hobbit raised a brow.

“I’ll prove it. I won’t even draw my blade.”

To anyone else, that would be an insult. To toy with them so, but Thorin just felt a puff of pride and thrill of the challenge when Bilbo’s brows pulled together in thought. 

“Well that seems to be a terrible suggestion. You unarmed and me with my blade? What if you get hurt? More so than you already are?”

“Master Baggins, if you can so much as land a hit, I’ll drop the matter completely.”

It was certainly cocky, but Thorin really wanted to show the hobbit how ineffective his methods were. He had enough mobility to dodge his swipes if it looked anything like it did a second ago. Even Dwalin had said Bilbo’s swordsmanship made him want to cry. Bilbo was staring down at his blade, turning it this way and that as if thinking over Thorin’s offer, when the sun caught the shining surface. The dwarf turned his head away, flinching away from the harsh light when he felt something hook behind his ankle. He fell hard on the ground, looking up with a gasp only to see Bilbo towering over him with a smug smirk.

The other dwarves immediately came running over to check on him, as he tried to get back in a sitting position staring at the hobbit in awe and disbelief.

“Well, I suppose I can handle myself then. Thank you for the lesson, Thorin.”

He watched the hobbit walk away, letting Dwalin pull him back to his feet amidst the Company’s attempt at subduing their laughter. However, Thorin wasn’t even mad. Not truly. He was far too preoccupied by how totally and assuredly he had misjudged the hobbit. Enchanting, indeed. 

Trick or treat my inbox.

[fayesdiary]

Ok I remember throwing in the Grima-in-Alear's role idea as just a joke of the Fell Dragon™ Case, but now I'm looking back on it I'm like damn, this has huge narrative potential actually

They end up in Elyos after their defeat in Awakening, they barely fit in the role of the Divine Dragon due to having the blood of one but very much not the traditional attitude.

Now I don't know almost anything about Engage's plot so I don't know how well they'd actually fit in the story in Alear's place but imagine:

Initially dead set on killing Sombron for solely selfish and petty reasons (literally "there can be only one Fell Dragon") but forced to ally with the humans due to having lost almost all of their powers and very slowly and begrudgingly growing accustomed to their presence. Almost... enjoying it, even. It may just be Robin's memories, but they're reminded of their other's time with the Shepherds.

They use the Emblems only out of practicality, and they hate the idea of allying with the ancestor of that accursed lineage that's been a literal pain in their neck. And yet, eventually, they start growing closer to Marth. They even empathize with his situation as an Emblem, his thousand years confined in his ring reminding them of their millennia trapped in that labyrinth alone.

Slowly, very slowly, they begin enjoying their time at Elyos and wanting to see it safe. They still hold no love for humanity in general, but their hatred slowly started to fade. And they begin wanting to protect their companions out of more than just pragmatism. Maybe, just maybe, they consider settling down in Elyos after they put that knockoff Fell Dragon in its place.

And then Emblem Lucina, Chrom and Robin show up, enraged at Grima's presence and reminding them of what they've done to their home world. They don't defend themselves. They deserve all of it. They're used to feeling disgusted by their existence, but that feeling directed at their past actions was new.

But the other humans, those they kept at arm's length but found a place in Grima's heart regardless, begin to defend and vouch for the Fell Dragon. Grima cannot comprehend why. They're on a quest to kill a Fell Dragon who's going to destroy the world, yet they're willing to stand by one who not only did the very same thing successfully but tried doing it again?

And yet, their gesture reminds the trio from Ylisse of something, and they decide to give Grima a chance but threaten to kill them if they attempt anything. They're fine with it. At this point, they don't care if they lose their life. But before that happens, they want to put an end to Sombron's threat. The humans of Elyos deserve that much for foolishly putting their trust on them.

In that sense, the fight with the knockoff Fell Dragon becomes to Grima a confrontation with their past self, and they can't help but think back on their journey. Are they truly capable of being a better person? Or are they doomed to be nothing more than a creature with the sole purpose to destroy?

Regardless, Grima made peace with it. If they truly are destined to destroy, let their final destruction be one that brings to Elyos something the Fell Dragon never felt before coming here.

Hope.

Engaged with Marth, wielding the sword that put an end to their first rampage more than a thousand years ago, Grima deals the final blow.

[goddess-aelin]

Little Did I Know

Chapter 2- The Proposal

Masterlist

LDIK Masterlist

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: language. Mention of death

Aelin didn’t want to talk to anyone. Frankly, she didn’t want to see anyone, either. Lysandra and Elide had come to visit her a few times in the days following the ball but Aelin knew she was acting cold and closed-off. Meeting your probable-future-betrothed could do that to someone when they had no say in the matter. Darrow, too, spoke with her a few times but only to inform her that the lords insisted they go full steam ahead with the arranged marriage to Prince Whitethorn

But Aelin was a princess first and a human second, never being allowed to show her dissatisfaction. Which is why she allowed Lysandra to do her hair and makeup into her usual style and why she put on her peach colored, knee-length dress. There was to be a tea party today and the entirety of her court and nobles from all over Terrasen were going to be in attendance. The official reason was for Terrasen’s national holiday celebrating the start of the new year. While many celebrated the new year at midnight, Terrasen royals chose to spend it with a full-day celebration of music, tea, and late night bonfires out in the cold Orynth weather. Unofficially, however, it was a chance for her and Prince Rowan to be seen together. 

As far as Aelin knew, it was not official yet. She had signed no papers and had been told nothing about her official engagement to Prince Rowan. Yet the way Darrow talked, she knew a proposal was imminent. She wasn’t sure how Prince Rowan could propose, however, when they hadn’t been in the same room for more than a minute. She certainly wasn’t making it easy for him and for that she felt a certain amount of self satisfaction. If she was miserable, why shouldn’t he be, too? A small part of Aelin knew she wasn’t being fair. She was sure that he didn’t choose this just as she didn’t. But another, bigger and crueler part of her didn’t care. None of this was her fault. Darrow had told her she would have a choice and then just as quickly rescinded that offer and betrothed her to a stranger. 

Aelin had ample time to think about how Prince Rowan might treat her. Would he try to belittle her rule as a woman? Would he be cruel and condescending? Would he force her into things she wasn’t ready for like bearing a child? Or would he be sweet and caring like he was at the ball? Her knight in shining armor, always protecting her from life’s struggles and dangers? In which case, should she be worried that he would meet an untimely death just like her parents? Aelin wasn’t sure which one scared her more. That was why it was easier to keep him at arm's length. It’s the same reason why her past relationships ended before they began. The men in her life were always asking for too much. Too many things that she could not give to them, her heart being one of them. 

Aelin begrudgingly made her way down to the foyer of the palace. She would meet Darrow and Prince Rowan and from there, they would arrive at the party together. Aelin always enjoyed the celebration of the new year. Although she would rather attend something a bit more exciting, she enjoyed getting to spend time with her friends. She especially liked the bonfires at night, where anyone brave enough would dare to leap over the raging flames to bring luck in the new year. Aelin was always one of the first. 

As she approached the two men awaiting her arrival, she took in the stern, albeit beautiful, face of Prince Rowan. Though his features were hard, there was something vulnerable behind his eyes as green met turquoise. Something inside her softened. The same something that told her he could be her friend, if she chose to take that step.

But the brief hope of friendship was slashed when he barely spared Aelin a glance. She knew he was probably hurt from her reaction the other day. The day she found out that the beautiful stranger she danced with was actually her betrothed. Aelin didn’t exactly blame him for acting cold toward her when she had done the exact same to him. So she decided to swallow her pride and offer an olive branch.

“Prince Rowan.” Aelin bowed her head a little.

His eyes gave her a cursory glance before he muttered a gruff, “Princess.”

Aelin had to stop herself from clenching her jaw. Though it had been ten years, her mother’s voice echoed in her head, telling her that she was not being very princess-like. So she held her head high and tried again.

“Thank you for accompanying me today.” 

Rowan’s response was a simple dip of the head before he began walking away.

Fine. That’s how this was going to be then. Screw her mother’s voice. She wasn’t here and she never would be again. Aelin felt like clenching her jaw until her teeth broke. 

She didn’t glance at Darrow as she followed Rowan toward the grand ballroom. The party itself would be held inside but as the night wound down, most guests would don their elegant furs and make their way outside. 

Before entering the room, Darrow cleared his throat. “I know things are a little awkward at the moment, but we would like you two to show a unified front.” Aelin knew what that meant. He wanted them to hold hands, or at the very least escort each other inside. Since the prince was hesitating, Aelin bit the bullet and tucked her arm into his. Less intimate than intertwining their fingers. Less dangerous. 

Rowan led her into the ballroom, where all heads turned toward them. Aelin could already hear the whispers from various guests who didn’t know that the Prince of Doranelle and Princess of Terrasen were an item. The joke was on them because up until a few days ago, Aelin didn’t know it either. 

The party was a blur of introducing her escort, Prince Rowan Whitethorn, to various nobility. She didn’t know what else to call him. Her lover? Too familiar. Fiance? He certainly wasn’t quite yet. Betrothed? Calling him that would ruin the calculated ruse that this was a love match. The people of Terrasen did not need to know that this arrangement was, well… arranged. 

For a brief moment, the two found themselves alone. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” Aelin made her way to the refreshment table, which was, unfortunately, simply tea. Aelin poured two cups of the signature Terrasen Tea, brewed specially just for this event. She handed one saucer to the prince, hoping it would act as a sort of peace offering. Yet a grunt was all she got in thanks.

“Are you ever going to talk to me?” She half-whispered, half-hissed. She wouldn’t risk anyone overhearing, but the insolence was starting to get to her.

“Talk? Just like you talked to me when we officially met, Princess? I don’t recall you talking almost at all. Instead, you just ran away.”

Aelin took a deep breath to keep her temper under control. Now was not the time to have a heated argument and here was not the place. She took Prince Rowan’s hand and led him to the attached private gardens. To anyone else, she hoped it looked like two lovers stealing a moment for themselves. It was freezing cold but she thought maybe they needed that brisk, chilly air to cool their anger.  

“I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t mean to offend you by walking away. I just…I was just taken by surprise when it was you.” 

“Me? Am I that undesirable?”

Aelin let out a grunt of frustration. He was toying with her. “You know that’s not what I meant. If we’re going to air all of our grievances, how about the fact that you didn’t tell me who you were the night of the ball? How about the fact that you had been the best dance of the night, the only person who even looked at me with any ounce of respect, and you just…walked away. Just like that. Didn’t tell me who you were and instead let me see for myself the next day.” “I danced with you because I wanted to see if you were worth it.” Worth it?! Aelin let out a cold huff. “If I was ‘worth it?’ Wow, thanks so much.” 

Rowan let out a frustrated hiss. “I just mean that if I was to enter this…agreement, I wasn’t going in blind.”

“So you just wanted to make sure I was attractive to you? Going in blind? I’m so glad you get that benefit while I’m sold like cattle to the highest bidder.” 

“That’s not what I meant, either, and you know that.”

“Actually, I don’t know that. I don’t know you. I don’t know a single thing about you other than that you’re from Doranelle. So excuse me if I’m a little irritated about this whole, godsdamned situation.”  Aelin heaved in a shaky breath. She would not cry. She. Would. Not. Cry.  

“You think you’re the only one who was thrust into a shitty situation? Do you think I chose this? Because the joke’s on you, Princess. I sure as fuck did not. I’m a prince of Doranelle and because of that, I have a duty to do. My life, just like yours, was stolen from me. So do not talk to me like I have no idea what you’re going through.” Rowan’s chest was heaving by the time he was finished.

Aelin didn’t know what to say. She thought he had agreed to this. Darrow had told her he had agreed to this marriage. Aelin opened her mouth to say something but no words came. She couldn’t find them. And as time went on, Rowan’s face once again turned cold. The emotion from the past ten minutes vanished in a blink, the mask of Doranelle’s prince sliding back into place.     

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to say anything, Princess. And don’t worry, I won’t be backing out of our deal. I can’t. The marriage contract is already signed on my part.” And with those parting words, Rowan turned his back on her and walked away. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. The prince was nowhere to be found and Aelin gave anyone who asked the excuse that he wasn’t feeling well. A weak excuse, but it worked, nonetheless. By the time dinner was over, Aelin excused herself from the festivities and made her way to her room. Before she made it to the stairs, she walked past Darrow’s office, noticing the light was on. Of course he wasn’t at the ball and was instead working. Her uncle-in-law was dedicated, she’d give him that.

As she knocked gently and pushed open the door, noticing Darrow hunched over a batch of papers on his desk. The official Terrasen seal on the top page allowed her to know instantly what the papers were for. As if sensing her hesitation, Darrow put his pen down and rounded the desk to hold Aelin’s hands in his own. “Aelin. My dear. You don’t need to do this. You can abdicate and all of this can be over. I see how unhappy you are with the situation and I’m telling you now that Terrasen will be ok. We will all be ok.” 

A few tears fell as Aelin started shaking her head. “What kind of queen would I be if I quit before I even started? I cannot let Lord Hamel take the throne. I can’t do that, Darrow. Not because it’s what Uncle Orlon or my parents would want. But because I cannot. It’s not in my nature. It’s not in the way my parents raised me. And it’s not in the way you raised me, either. I’m doing this.” 

Darrow nodded and pulled away from her, sweeping his hand toward the papers on his desk. “I’ll give you the rundown of the contract later but the basics are that we have a trade agreement with Doranelle in exchange for Prince Rowan’s place on the throne. You, of course, will be Queen but he will be considered King Consort and would take the throne fully if anything would ever happen to you before any heirs were born. All in all, you could do much, much worse than Prince Whitethorn.”

Aelin picked up her pen. ��I know,” she whispered. And as she dotted her “i’s,” Aelin felt a new, heavier burden on her shoulders. 

As she was falling asleep, Aelin’s last thought was that she didn’t even get to jump over any fires.

- - - - -

Aelin was awoken for the second day in a row by Lysandra. Breakfast was already on its way to her room and Lysandra had already picked a beautiful, flowy mint green dress for her to wear. Aelin was confused as to what was happening, her grogginess still lingering. 

“Up! Get up, Aelin! Prince Rowan would like to take you for a walk in the gardens.” 

Aelin froze. She was going to be sick. Because she knew exactly what a “walk in the garden” meant. She just didn’t think it would happen so soon after signing the marriage contract. Aelin didn’t say anything as Lysandra primped and prodded her, transforming her into the princess she should have felt like. 

Aelin met Prince Rowan in the foyer again, taking his arm instinctually.

He leaned down a little and murmured to her, “Please at least try to look happy.” 

If he could feel her trembling, he gave no indication.

As they entered the garden, Aelin could already see the paparazzi lined up, a perfect vantage point for what was about to happen.  She hoped she didn’t look like a deer caught in headlights but wasn’t sure she was able to fully build her royal facade back up.  She was nothing if not a great actress, though. 

So as Rowan knelt on one knee before her, presenting her with an extravagant diamond ring, she plastered the most dazzling, princess-y smile she could manage onto her face. It was as if all of her dreams were coming true, a real-life fairytale. Except this wasn’t a fairytale and most of Aelin’s dreams were nightmares. 

A/N: Yes, I did take Beltane and moved it to New Years Eve. Lol. This was a lot more angsty than anything I've ever written so I hope that came through. I don't want to make it easy for them but at the same time, I'm super impatient so I'm sure there won't be THAT much more angst.

tag list: @cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @maeclin @ayaashryver @anna-swims @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @kyereads @heirofflowers @bananaanna23 @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee @books4eva04

[ask-e123-omega]

(//OOC: The friend of mine that inspired me to run this ask blog recently filled out a character questionnaire for the character she plays, and it was such a damn good questionnaire that I just had to fill it out for Omega. Long post beneath the cut of me dumping my headcanons for this robot:)

How aware is your character of their thought processes? Do they think about why they do what they do (however accurately)? Do they care about self-analysis?

Ooh, complicated question, since Omega can look into his own memory banks and literally review his own thought processes on a whim. But does this mean he's good at it? Not really. Upon reviewing an impulsive decision, he's more likely to remark "RAGE PROTOCOLS WERE RUNNING AS NORMAL" instead of sitting down and puzzling out why he was so enraged and how it affected the outcome of his decision.

That being said, he's all about self-analysis. He's constantly reviewing old data to try and gain an edge over his enemies. He's just terrible at admitting when he's made a mistake, so he doesn't really learn from it.

Is your character more likely to think they can overcome something even when they can't or to feel helpless even when they aren't?

This overconfident motherfucker thinks he can solo the entire Eggman empire on an average day, so take a guess.

But when everything's on the last straw, it isn't always ego that convinces him he can overcome the impossible. It's also a steely determination, a sort of "I have to do it or I die. There is no other option," if you will. When failure is not an option, he simply erases it from his processor. He's similar to Sonic in this regard.

What's one thing they're overconfident about? What's one thing they're under-confident about?

Overconfident about? It would be intuitive to say "his abilities", but that's actually not the case. He is a scarily competent killing machine. What he's actually most overconfident about is his strategic planning. He's the Ultimate Robot: Of Course He Can Succeed In Any Tactical Situation, so he clearly doesn't need to think about setting himself up for success before engaging. You don't need to reposition if there's no more enemies left to force you out of position. You don't need to hide if there's no one left to see you. Right?

Underconfident about? His social skills. He considers his skill with people to be barely passable enough to get him where he needs to be, but he can be more charismatic than he realizes. He's got a higher understanding of cognitive empathy than he thinks he does due to his observational tendencies.

How aware of and in control of their physical presence are they? Could they ever be caught with their clothes inside-out or spinach in their teeth? Do they ever stop paying attention to where they're walking or hit things when gesturing?

Omega used to be terrible- constantly crashing into things, crushing furniture, etc. Spending the first year or so of his life locked in a cramped basement left him unpracticed with movement. Not only that, but the world outside is so much more fragile than he is. It took him time to learn the strengths of common household materials and the height/width tolerances of things like doors. Nowadays, he's pretty good with spaces he's familiar with. Put him in an environment he's never been in before, like a grandmother's house or something, and he might start running into and breaking things again.

As for hygiene stuff, he's pretty on top of it. He's got sensors all over his body, including his blind spots. Shadow tried to stick a note on his back once. It didn't work- he detected it immediately.

How good are they at accurately assigning blame? Do they think everything is their fault? That nothing is?

Nothing is Omega's fault, ever.

With exactly one exception: if avoiding blame would make Eggman look more competent. If Eggman got away because he missed his shot, he'll begrudgingly admit he missed his shot rather than make up anything outrageous to justify how Eggman avoided it.

(He'll be pissed at himself for weeks afterwards, of course.)

Name something from your character's past that affects their behavior now in a way they don't realize and something that affects them in a way they do realize.

Omega can't stand being alone, especially in rooms with the door closed. He can do it if he's got a distraction, such as a videogame, but even then he'll still leave the window open to hear the sounds of people from outside. This is directly because he spent the first year of his life trapped in the same room alone. He has no idea that he's this sensitive about it and will deny it if someone pointed it out.

The part of his trauma that he does choose to acknowledge and externalize is the obvious one: he hates his creator and goes out of his way to disrespect him every chance he gets.

Does your character overcompensate for anything?

His whole "Ultimate Robot" schtick is to overcompensate for the fact that he was discarded by his creator. If he's the best at what he does, then no one will ever throw him away ever again.

Does your character believe they're chronically lucky/unlucky? Why?

Chronically unlucky. Eggman always seems to get away. His inferior robots keep coming. Could this be because Omega isn't strong enough to take them on alone? No, Never! It's because of the mistakes of others or just plain bad chance, that's all!

Does your character have an inner monologue? Are their thoughts about themselves more frequently positive or critical?

Nope, no inner monologue, but you bet that his post-action reviews are nothing but complimentary about himself unless he physically malfunctions.

Are there any values or beliefs your character espouses but doesn't live up to?

Omega has stated since day one that he's superior to organic beings due to being a robot. . . but he doesn't exactly believe it anymore. His respect for certain organics has debunked that line of logic, though he's too prideful to admit it now.

How good at reading people is your character, usually? Do they think they're better or worse at it than they are?

He's actually pretty damn decent at it, especially when it comes to his teammates. He's one of the few people on the planet who could have a good guess at what's going on in Shadow's head at any given time, for one. While organic social/emotional cues weren't intuitive for him, he learned them by doing "post-action" reviews for any social interactions he had. Combine this with a flawless memory and a willingness to research anything he gets stuck on, and he's got more capacity for that sort of thing than you might expect from a killer robot.

Of course, he doesn't value this skill nor advertise that he has it, so he thinks he's worse at it than he actually is.

(So why'd he bother learning? Initially, it was to understand Eggman to be better at killing him. Then it morphed into a desire to understand and eventually take care of his organic teammates, though he'd never admit that straight.)

What sorts of things does your character use to evaluate someone they've just met—clothes, looks, attitude? Is there anything (besides bad behavior) that will give them a kneejerk dislike of a stranger? A kneejerk affection?

Physical aptitude. Omega is quick to categorize organics into "pathetic civilians" or "potential assets" based on muscle mass, how many weapons they have, etc. (Other robots don't get the privilege of categorization- they're labeled "inferior", regardless of traits.)

Kneejerk dislike is, of course, if the person makes any sort of respectful/complimentary statement about Eggman, even if unintentional. Other kneejerk dislikes include people who suggest diplomacy as a solution to any problem.

Kneejerk affection is if the person is capable of mass destruction. With weapons or superpowers, doesn't matter.

Would you say your character is too trusting, not trusting enough, or juuuust right?

Not trusting enough. He assumes that everyone other than himself or a tiny handful of his friends are incompetent idiots who can't be trusted with anything. He's very guarded with strangers even after they prove their worth.

How susceptible is your character to perceiving or treating others like surrogate parents or children (or some other specific familial role)? Why?

Not at all! The only concept of "family" he has is from Rouge and Shadow, and he only know of that term because those two use it sometimes. He doesn't understand why such a designation would matter, what difference being a "family" might make versus just being close to someone.

Can they easily tell when someone is hitting on them?

Nope! He'd conflate any flirting attempts with Rouge's typical "flirty" banter, which she does platonically. Not that he's ever been hit on before. It'd be funny as hell to see someone try.

How sensitive are they to passive aggression or backhanded compliments? Do they ever read too much into things?

It's a 50/50 shot if he notices the passive aggressiveness from someone (higher if it's Shadow or Rouge), but if he does, he gets irritated about it. He'll tell the offending person that they're a coward for not stating their problem with him directly. (He will never employ passive aggressiveness himself unless being directly aggressive to someone will severely hinder him from achieving his goals- the GUN director has been on the receiving end of many half-assed tasks and disinterested "AFFIRMATIVES".)

He takes backhanded compliments completely straight- "thank you" and all. He loves frustrating people by giving off the impression that he doesn't recognize the back-handedness.

Does your character project anything in particular onto other people—thinking everyone is scheming because they're always scheming themselves, for example?

If you squint, Omega projects his own sense of individuality onto people. He believes that he is more different and unique from everyone else than he actually is. . . and that other people find each other similarly unknowable.

Are the standards your character holds other people to higher, lower, or equal to the standards they hold themselves to? Do they notice that?

Omega holds others to an equal standard as he does himself. . . the problem being that he's holding organic people up to robot standards. He expects everyone to have superhuman pain tolerance, catastrophic destructive capabilities, and utter determination to accomplish the mission, because he'd expect no less of himself.

Is this still incredibly self-centered and a dick move? YES. Is this toxic and harmful to both himself and everyone around him? Absolutely. Does he realize that he's doing this? Not really! He's not reflective enough to realize that he bases his standard of competency on his own expectations for himself.

How noticeable is your character? Do they stand out or fade into the background? Is that intentional or innate?

Omega's an absolute standout. Being a sentient war machine tends to do that, but it's also very intentional. He speaks loudly and often. He interjects himself into conversations, providing opinions that were unasked for. He moves with vigor and gusto. The last thing he wants to be is ignored.

What's the first thing they want other people to notice about them? Is that what most people actually usually notice?

He wants other people to see that he's a large, dangerous, competent killing machine, and he will viciously defend this image. This is indeed the first thing people notice due to both his frame and his efforts.

Besides just being more formal in formal settings, do they ever change how they behave around specific people? Is it on purpose? What happens if they're in the room with two of those people at the same time?

When he's around organics that he's used to seeing often, such as the regular GUN grunts, or especially his teammates, he tends to relax the effort of keeping up his reputation. He gets a bit softer, a bit more understanding, though it takes a trained eye to spot the change. It also means that his mischievous streak comes out, and there's nothing he loves more than subverting the expectation that he can't be funny. This is on purpose. In his mind, he's already proved that he's the "Ultimate Robot" to these specific meatbags, and therefore doesn't need to expend as much effort to keep them convinced.

If anyone else is in the room, though, he's back to trying to dominate every social interaction to prove that he's superior.

Does your character wish people perceived them differently than they do? Do they have any qualities they wish got more recognition? Is there anything about your character's background or personality that they try to hide but can't?

He HATES being perceived as nonsentient. However, even that's preferable to being perceived as an "Eggman Robot", a title he can't seem to outrun no matter how hard he tries. The decision to keep his paint job the same red-and-yellow as most other Badniks was not a decision he made lightly; he figures that instead of changing it, he'll simply eliminate all other Eggman robots with the color scheme until he's the only one left, making it so that the colors will be associated with only him.

As for what he'd like to get recognition more often, he'd appreciate being seen as competent for once. He's not blind to the way everyone assumes him to be a liability on missions just because he doesn't do stealth or subtlety.

Does your character come across the way they intend to come across—cool when they're trying to be cool, intimidating when they're trying to be intimidating—or is there a mismatch?

There's a pretty clear match, if only because his goal is to seem brusque and intimidating at all times, even when he's being more caring. The only time there's a mismatch is when he's doing so deliberately for the purpose of humor, and that mismatch will always be "coming off way more intense than he actually means to be".

If someone hated your character for no apparent reason, how would they take it? Would they try to change their minds? Could they live without knowing why?

Omega would wear it as a badge of honor and brag to everyone about it. . . but he'd be absolutely unable to live without knowing why. He wants to make sure you're hating him for the right reason (his personality) and not for the wrong reason (being built by Eggman).

What if someone openly adored your character for no apparent reason? Flattering or uncomfortable?

Finally, someone who appreciates the Ultimate Robot! That person would get 'favorite meatbag' status.

[monroeknoxwrites]

priest/demon comm wip

laurel dealing with the church equivalent of customer service + one needy bored demon.

Another year drew to a close and the congregants of St. Agnes church rushed to cleanse themselves of sin before the new year began. The confessional box saw more use in December than it did any other month. At this time, the bishop designated the three priests working under him were to take turns taking confessional as he supposedly busied himself with other important church business.

Rarely did the visitors of St Agnes church actually see their bishop outside the Sunday and holiday masses.

Father Gregory was laid up in bed with a tenacious ailment that dragged on for weeks.

Father Albert had been called away the night before by pressing "family matters".

This left young Father Laurel to man the confessions of the entire church by himself.

Most sins were pedestrian, technically frowned upon by the church but nothing to torment one's self over. By the end of the first day on his own, Laurel was contemplating committing a cardinal sin of his own and hopping from the highest steeple atop the church. The many gargoyles and grotesque statues lining the roof would find his choice perfectly acceptable. If the ones within the church could hear what he did, they'd lament not having movable hands to cover their ears and block out the monotonous "burdens" of simple folk.

Those with more tantalizing secrets still bored him to tears. There was only so many times one could hear the tales of the nobility’s depravity before it became just as monotonous.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned,” said a well dressed woman on the other side of the screen. Her rank and lineage were of little importance so Father Laurel didn’t bother committing it to memory. “I have been in congress with my new maid.”

<i>Three months to sample the new help. That must be a record for her.</i>

Father Laurel ignored the snickering voice in his ear and spoke to the woman in what he hoped approximated a caring tone. “How long have you committed this adultery, my child?”

The woman gave an airy sniff, breaking the allusion of her remorseful act. “No longer than my husband has taken with his new stable boy! Sodomy, is that not the greater sin father?”

<i>Disallowing couples to part after marriage, you catholic lot were on to something. The lengths these two go to spite each other is infinitely entertaining.</i>

Father Laurel couldn’t disagree more. The couple’s antics at each other’s expense was an open secret. Within the confessional booth, husband and wife came for absolution but more importantly, they used it as a chance to snitch. He had been a member of St. Agnes church for less than a year before growing sick to the teeth of them both.

Whatever hypocritical tirade the woman blathered on about was drowned out by the voice and the phantom sensation of wandering hands. For the moment they were above the robes.

<i>Do you think she takes pleasure in tasting her little maids or asks them to kiss her in forbidden places?</i>

Father Laurel knew it best not to engage with him. Soon as he did, the demon would be invited to elicit further responses.

“Marriage is a holy institution,” he said, cutting the woman off mid-sentence. “Before god and the community you promised to be faithful to your husband, as did he. Say one Our Father and ten Hail Mary’s for your sin. In regards to your marriage, I highly recommend you live in different houses. For the good of all.”

The woman thanked him begrudgingly, someone of her age and rank not used to be talked down to in such a manner even by one of the clergy. She exited the confessional in a flourish of wide skirts and furs, the sound of her stomping heels clicking loudly on the stone floor until she exited.

Wicked laughter sounded by his ear, the disembodied arms looped about his waist.

“I’m glad you find amusement in all this,” Father Laurel said under his breath.

Materializing behind him, the space snug with two inside, the demon Lorenzo hooked his chin on Father Laurel’s shoulder.

“What’s not to enjoy? Humans force themselves to find a single partner for the entirety of their lives, committing themselves to misery, loneliness, and dissatisfaction. And your god condemns any who dare to find pleasure and joy elsewhere, leading to resentment and, in the case of this delightfully unhappy couple, buffoonery for the town to laugh at.”

"Common people's willful idiocy holds little entertainment for me."

"What of the uncommon people?"

Father Laurel rolled his eyes, not dignifying it with a response.

Lorenzo played with the tassels at the end of Father Laurel's priestly stole. St. Agnes church received hefty donations by those who wished for the appearance of devote piety and the vestments of the church's clergy reflected that. The bishop often remarked that God's shepherds should be dressed in humble splendor, to illustrate His indisputable influence and generosity on earth.

In reality, it was obvious this old man from a prominent family simply wished to be surrounded by luxury.

Father Laurel found the gold embroidery on green silk gaudy, an eyesore against the crisp black of his robes. All the more reason Lorenzo toyed with it at any given opportunity.

"Is there no foul deed you could be busying yourself with while I tend to this?"

"And deprive myself of witnessing the misdeeds of your folk?" Lorenzo asked, fingers trailing into the valley of Father Laurel's thighs.

Father Laurel clamped his legs together before they traveled too far.

"Behave," he hissed, aloof composure slipping momentarily.

Whatever lascivious taunt sat on the demon’s tongue was interrupted by the confessional’s curtain flinging open, a young man filling the adjoining booth. He made the sign of the cross in haste and practically wheezed out, “Forgive me Father, I have sinned. It has been many months since my last confession.”

Father Laurel recognized the voice, distorted as it was by exertion, as the youngest son of the baron.

<i>Did he run all the where here in fear of the hounds of hell on his heels?</i> Lorenzo snickered.

“Easy, my child. Take a moment to regain your breath. What troubles you?”

The young man’s shadow through the screen leaned backwards, drawing in big gulps of air until he sounded less on the verge of collapse.

“My apologies Father. This weight on my chest must be purge and it could not wait an instant longer.” He drew another long breath to steady himself. “In London I–I killed a man, Father.”

Well that was certainly a change of pace.

“For what reason did you take this man’s life?”

“To say it was a noble reason would further damn me,” the young man lamented, truly shaken by this sin. “He struck a, uh, a woman of the evening. I was walking back to a friend’s home late at night and caught the scoundrel, hurting this poor thing half his size. Father I didn’t mean, oh God help me, I only meant to push the ruffian.”

His shadow hide his face in his hands, muffled sobs drifting over.

<i>What a gallant drunken knight.</i>

“Partaking in copious amounts of alcohol can lead one down a path to destruction,” Father Laurel said. “Your intentions were indeed noble but a life has still been taken.”

“Father!” The young man surged forward close to the screen, fingers clutching in small holes. “I wish to make amends for this grave sin. I wish to dedicate my life to the church.”