#but that certainly doesn’t make him villainous

[kingtomura]

Vitality | 4

Summary: You were always told heroes and villains had no place in your home.  Not when there’s an increase in crime, not when there’s monsters on the loose in Hosu and certainly not when the man in your home raises a hand to you.  All it takes is one impulsive decision to change your life forever. content: shigaraki tomura x female reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, reader has a quirk, graphic depictions of violence, past abuse, past sa, angst, pstd, eventual smut, dark themes, found family LoV, mdni wc: 5k | prev | chapter 5 | m. list | read on ao3

Shigaraki is avoiding you. 

You don't have any definitive proof, but you can read between the lines.

It’s not obvious, but you have seen him a lot less than usual, and even though you could be wrong, you just can’t shake the feeling. 

The lack of his presence in the bar, for starters, is one instance. He hasn’t needed any healing help from you either even though he’s been out and about. You can only assume he’s been fine, but it doesn’t take the sinking feeling away from the pit of your gut.

There is something else that’s been bothering you as well. Pulling at your thoughts and living within the walls of your mind.

You can’t stop thinking about what happened a few nights ago. 

The distressed look on Shigaraki's face haunts you, and it doesn’t help that you haven't had a chance to apologize. Hell, you haven’t even seen him at all since that night. Your days have consisted of training and healing, with no sign of your leader. 

Today you are with Toga once more, in a field you have become more familiar with, sparring. 

Twice has joined you both, stating that he was the best person to help — and you agree. He has been making clones of Toga to help you spar and the addition takes away the consequence of harming her.

As for her clone harming you…

Well, you just need to improve — and you believe that you have, as you’ve ended up less on the ground and more on top by the end of the week. 

She comes at you without a care in the world and a knife in her hand, but you’ve learned how to dodge. You know well how to duck and then swing, how to sway is just the right ways that would give you an opening to knock her off of her feet. During your time training you have learned how to get the upper hand. 

Every time you can dodge an attack it makes you feel good.

It reminds you that you’re learning and that this isn’t in vain. 

There’s a moment right as Toga’s clone is about to strike that you see it — the perfect opening. 

Your right hand forms a fist and you don’t think as you do it, just swing and hit the mark, right against her left cheek and it takes the clone down completely. It turns to sludge before you and the claps of Twice and Toga catch your attention.

“That’s one hell of a right hook!” Twice yells to you and you can only muster a small smile, tired out from the spar. 

“Thanks. We can call it here, right?” you ask and Toga nods, the smile never leaving her face.

“Yeah, and your swing is pretty good.” She compliments, hopping off the boulder she sat on and walking towards you, guiding you back to the meeting area Kurogiri tells you all to gather.  “You should ask Tomura about a support item. I think you’re almost ready for one.”

The portal opens before you and it's a relief to see that you were one step closer to heading to bed for the night. Training really drains your energy.

“You think so?” It's a feeble question, one to merely fill the air as you all walk through. 

Toga nods, already making her way towards the door of the bar, no doubt ready to head to bed herself. “I do! You’re pretty strong, little bird.” 

And she’s gone, leaving those words to echo in your mind as you stop in your tracks. 

You’ve never thought of yourself as strong. Not when you’ve lived the way you have for so long. Your first instinct is to deny, but you fight it — instead opting to push the compliment to the back of your mind. 

You should find Shigaraki. 

It's late, but not too late. He should still be awake, and you would like to at least mention the idea of a support item before your confidence slips.

The strength stays with you as you trudge the tunnels, making your way to Shigaraki’s room. 

You’ve never been there, and there has never been a reason to, but you knew it wasn’t very far from yours. The nerves you’ve been so confident stomping out have returned in full force as you approach his door. The worse he could do was tell you to go away. 

So, with your solid reasoning, you inhale and knock at his door, waiting for a gruff reply, but when there is nothing, not even movement, on the other side you debate knocking again. 

Against your better judgment, you try it again and are met with the same silence. 

It feels eerie and your brain is screaming at you to turn tail and go to your room, but curiosity eats at you. 

You bring a hand to his doorknob, pausing as you debate opening his door.

The worst he could do is tell you to go away.

You turn the knob and…

It's locked. You should have known. Shigaraki doesn’t seem like the type to trust others enough to have his bedroom door unlocked and open for all to explore. 

With a sigh you move on, not to your bedroom, but back to the bar. Shigaraki was absent there as well, but you believe Kurogiri may have a clue of his whereabouts. 

The apparition is exactly where you assumed he would be — behind the bar, cleaning a glass, expression impossible to guess behind the wispy shadows that cloud his face.

“Kurogiri,” you start, glancing around the bar once more for good measure, and sure enough, there was no sign of your leader. “Have you seen Shigaraki anywhere? He wasn’t in his room.”

There's a beat of silence between you two, you can only assume Kurogiri is scanning his own mind for places Shigaraki may have gone, but his response surprises you. 

“Have you checked the roof?”

Your brows furrow at the mention. 

The roof?

There is a ladder you have to climb to get to the roof. It's not very high and it's through the red curtain behind the bar’s counter, but it’s there. 

Once you’ve made your way onto the roof and dusted yourself off, you take a look around. 

Lo and behold, there he is, his form relaxed as he looks out onto the city of Kamino, drink can in hand and distinct lack of hand dawning his face. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” you announce as you approach, cringing at your own words, but knowing you had no other greetings in your arsenal. 

He doesn’t spare you a glance, only taking a sip of his drink as his eyes are lost in thought. 

But he doesn’t tell you to go away, so you take that as a good sign — slowly making your way to where he’s sat and taking your own seat. Not too close, but near enough that it’s not awkward to have a conversation. 

You decide to follow his gaze, looking out into the city of Kamino as the sea of buildings light up the area. 

You wish they were stars instead.

The thought makes you look up and see the gray sky above, murky as the fog settles onto the city. You wish there was more to look at, but from this angle you can barely make out the silver glow of the moon through the clouds. 

The naivety in you wishes there was more up there, like a meteor shower or some other natural occurrence you’ve read about in books.

But there's nothing here. 

Nothing but light pollution and fog. 

“So,” you begin, words eager to leave your mind, “training with Toga is going well.”

“Good.” His eyes are far away as he responds, sipping more of his drink as his thoughts swim through his mind. 

You wonder what he’s thinking about, but forgo asking.

Instead, you opt for a nod, excitement showing in your small smile as you go on, “Yeah, since Twice has been with us he’s made clones of her to help me train. They say I have a pretty good swing.” 

This time Shigaraki does look at you, interest piqued and it makes you feel warm that he’s at least a little interested in your training progress. 

“Yeah?” He asks and you nod again.

“Mhm, Toga said I should ask you about a possible support item soon, but I'm not sure what would fit me best.”

“I have a few ideas.” He takes another sip of his drink and from this distance you can tell it's an energy drink. Odd choice for a late night snack. “I’ll check in with you by the end of next week.”

Your eyes widen, a little shocked from how fast you’d be able to have something to help you, it makes your previous excitement grow as you bite back more of your smile. 

“Thank you.”

Shigaraki hums in response, sending the space between you into a lull. It is not unwelcomed — the wind whistles and the breeze is nice as you both watch the city from above. You’re beginning to understand why Shigaraki would want to be out here in the first place. 

It’s peaceful. 

The quiet stretches until the nagging voice in your head begins to catch up with you once more, drawing attention to your earlier struggles.

You want to apologize. 

“Hey, Shigaraki.”

His eyes cut to yours and his red gaze feels intimidating. You hate to admit it, but it’s the truth, even more so in this vulnerable moment. 

So you divert.

“Have you heard any updates about my father?” you get the words out and now that the dam is broken you cannot stop. “It’s been on my mind a lot lately and I've stopped seeing articles. It’s just making me feel uneasy.”

You pause, your heart is racing and you feel a familiar sense of panic in your veins. The same panic you felt at home when you would mess something up in front of your father. Even the mention of him shakes your core.

You move to speak again, but Shigaraki stops you. 

“No, he’s probably done with the charades.” He takes the last sip of his drink, leaning his head back and you watch as his adam's apple bobs with each swallow. 

Once he finishes the drink, he presses one, two, three, four, five fingers down on the can — disintegrating it into ash before your eyes. 

You’ve never seen his quirk with your own eyes, but it happens quickly — the bottle fading into dust and then nothing, swept away by the winds as if it never existed at all. 

“Besides,” he continues, the hint of amusement in his tone makes your heart clench for reasons completely different from before. “If he looked any further he’d only build a case against himself.”

He looks at you again, hint of a smile on his face, “and I don’t think he’s that fucking dumb.”

You look at him and you feel light, the worry from before dissipating in the wind just like the drink can before. You bring a hand to your chest, an old habit that made you feel as though you could heal your own heart — stop it from racing out of your chest and far away from you. 

“Yeah,” you finally respond, a small uptick of your lips calming your nerves, “yeah, he would have to be insane.”

Shigaraki is satisfied with your answer, moving to stand and you follow suit. 

There’s the booming sound of rolling thunder falling over the space between you both. 

It’s going to storm soon and neither of you wanted to get caught up in it.

—--------------------------

They’re sending you on a mission soon. 

It’s somewhere further out and in a different city, so it should be nowhere near your father’s jurisdiction. It’s being led by Dabi since he is just as strategic as Shigaraki and well within his rights of intelligence. They tell you something about it being a part of a larger, more important mission to come along soon. 

You’ve been improving in fighting everyday — the support item Shigaraki gave you really helps. He believed a bat would be a great help in your combat and so far it has. 

They don’t expect you to fight but they do expect an altercation and it’s best to have a healer where they are needed instead of somewhere not within reach. 

“It seems we have some rats in our ranks.” Shigaraki told the group at the meeting, carmine eyes shining in delight at the idea of a challenge to his goals, “and I think it’s time we take care of it.”

It makes you nervous since there's been no reason for you to leave the base beyond training with Toga. As much as you would like to go out and see more, this mission makes you feel uneasy. 

It feels like once you’ve done this you truly are a villain and there is no going back from that. 

The images of your father’s reaction and raging face makes you shiver, but you steadily remind yourself that you are no longer there. That is not your reality anymore. 

However…

You will be on a mission with Dabi. The same man you’ve barely interacted with. The one who is hardly around to get a read on. 

He paid you no mind as Shigaraki explained the details of the upcoming mission further — even going as far as staying behind once the discussion was finished to delve deeper into more details. He was nothing if not thorough. 

You’re not sure what to expect and the thoughts plague you all the way to your room.

It’s difficult to find sleep, but you try, giving in to the tiredness you feel and slipping into the welcoming feeling of nothing. 

You wake with a start. 

Your chest heaves as you look around your bedroom and realize its only you. Nothing is out of place and everything is quiet. 

It must have been a nightmare you were having but the memories are hazy. The dream is already fading away as you blink the sleep from your eyes. 

All you know is that the nightmare was unsettling. It left a pool of dread deep in your gut and you needed to get out. So, making your way out of bed, your feet move to the one place you believed could be relieving at this hour. 

You’ve gone up to the roof a few times before, Tomura is always there. Always silent. Always with a drink of some kind. 

You don’t speak much as there isn’t much to say, but you find comfort in it. The silence is calming and it comes with the lack of pressure from either side to say what’s on your mind.

Shigaraki never tells you to leave. 

He’s told you before that you’re free to do what you want and you suppose this is included. As long as you don’t bother him during his quiet time, you were fine to share the space. 

It’s three in the morning and you hope he’s gone to bed for the night. The roof has become some kind of safe haven but you’ve never been up alone. You would like to see what it’s like. 

But he is there, and you can’t really bring yourself to be upset.

You actually feel a little relieved — the hazy remnants of the nightmare still had you a little shaken, the lack of company would only make you feel worse. 

“Do you ever sleep?” you wonder aloud as you slowly approach. Tomura has another energy drink tonight, but this one is unopened. It looked to be long forgotten by his side as he watched the city below. 

“Sometimes.” he responds, voice low, but you were close enough to catch it.

Shigaraki is wearing his gloves, the black partial ones that you never see him sport inside the bar. Only up here. 

Only with you.

You haven’t gathered the nerve to ask him why that is yet. 

(You’re not sure you will be able to, either.)

So instead you sit — it's always a respectable distance away as you both look out into the city. The calming feeling of the open night feels freeing. It's unlike anything you’ve felt before. Especially not in recent years. 

You wonder if he has nightmares, too. If he’s plagued by visions at night, if they keep him up the way they keep you up. 

Excessive energy drinks in the middle of the night aren’t really good at helping you sleep. 

You wonder what he’s running from — your leader in the League of Villains. 

You both stay like that for a while, comfortable silence stretching between you both and you don't mind it. It’s only until Shigaraki starts shifting that he draws your attention. He’s shuffling around in his pajama pockets and piquing your curiosity. 

It's only when he pulls out a gaming console that you tilt your head in confusion. It's small and portable, but he’s never brought anything like that up here in the short time you’ve joined him. 

Your confusion only grows as he extends the device to you. 

“What?”

“Take it.” He offers, and you cannot help the way your brows furrow and frown deepens. 

Why would he offer you this?

You meet Shigaraki's eyes, deep red and passive, then down at the console — even through the partial gloves he wore, Shigaraki still held the system in an odd way. It’s black and holds a few scuffs and scratches. Well worn. Well loved. 

“What’s this for?” you ask, no longer worried to question the man. 

He only scoffs, look of confusion now painting his own features. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what a gaming system is.”

“I do!” you shoot back, embarrassment bringing heat to your cheeks. It's gone as soon as it’s arrived — your confusion dissolving into curiosity. “I mean, why are you giving this to me?”

He looks at you like you’ve asked what the year was, “You said your father took your console away.”

Your eyes widen at his words, shock evident in your movements as you take the device from his hand. He’s quick to pull it away as well, but you don’t think about it further. You only look at the scuffed gaming console and ponder why Tomura Shigaraki of all people would give it to you.

“It’s old and I don’t really use it nowadays,” he starts, causing you to meet his eyes once more, “Sensei said the games there were good for learning to strategize. It helped, but I don't need it anymore.” 

You stare down at the device — scratched and worn, no doubt played for hours. 

Although it seems like a half thought of an offer, there’s still a vulnerability to the situation that makes you warm. A genuine effort that makes you want to be genuine in return. 

“He’s not my real dad.” You start, shaking Shigaraki out of whatever thought he may have been lost in. “My real father skipped out on us. And he married my mom when I was young. Then… we lost her.” 

You’ve never had a chance to talk about your past. To open up. Growing up he had always drilled into your mind that he was your father, then your only guardian after your mom passed.

His behavior became weird — he became obsessive after the loss of her. 

Told you that needed no one but him, and he needed you too. 

Only you. 

Shigaraki says nothing, and you continue, “Sometimes, I like to pretend my real dad is out there, somewhere. Maybe lost at sea or something.” 

You laugh, a sad huff of breath. “I don’t think anyone like him could be a father, even though that’s all I know him as.” 

It feels weird talking to someone you barely know about your innermost thoughts, but it’s a faint relief off of your chest.  

“That sounds awful.” he starts, “Being at sea for months on end. I would probably get seasick.”

Now you laugh, genuinely. “Have you ever seen the ocean?” 

An innocent question, but one that makes him ponder. “No, and I don't think I want to.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs, nose scrunching at the idea. It's cute, you have to admit. “Too bright, too noisy and it probably smells bad.”

You smile, light and innocuous. What a negative nancy. “I’ve never been either. I would really like to. I had planned to, but…” you pause, mood souring. “But he wouldn’t approve.”

You don’t know why you're still talking, but the dam has burst, contents of your heart spilling over and out. 

“I'm an adult, you know? Twenty! It sucks seeing all my friends move on and do other things with their lives. But I was stuck.” you pause, looking at the ground, “I told him so, too. That’s where it all went wrong that night.”

That night.

You remember. 

You remember it clear as day. 

The argument happened during dinner.

A night like any other, so you hadn’t seen the escalation coming. Your friends had been telling you about a program, a little study exchange in a small beach town where anyone could go to research and learn about the animals in the area. 

You didn’t have many friends, but the few you held dear would be going. It would be a shame to be left behind — to have to spend another year in this house. 

It was a simple thing, you brought the idea up to your father, told him about how good of an opportunity it would be for you. 

That’s where it all went downhill. 

He got so angry, furious at the idea of his only daughter running off to some beach with god-knows-who doing god-knows-what. He told you to go on and forget it — it wasn’t happening.

Not on his watch. 

This was it, the final straw. You couldn’t possibly spend another minute at a table with someone who was so deadset and keeping you down and caged.  

So, you do something you never had.

You yell at him. Tell him he’s being ridiculous, that you should be able to go out and do your own thing. All your friends were able to.

By the time you realize you’ve chosen the wrong words it’s too late. 

Your father stood to his feet, the screeching of the chair ringing in your ears as he stomped his way over to you. 

“Where did all this energy come from?” 

You felt your heart sink as he stopped in front of you, his form towering over yours as you regret even opening your mouth. 

“Was it a boy?” he hissed and you wished then and there you could take it back. The outburst, the trip, everything. But it's out now and in the open. You would have to face the consequences. “Have you met a boy and he’s gotten into your head?”

You shake your head, desperately denying the claim, but he didn’t want to hear any of it. You move to stand as well, feeling powerless from your chair and he grabs your wrist.

“You’re not going.” He spits, voice stern and grip achingly tight, “you won’t be some back alley whore as long as I��m around.”

“You’re being ridiculous!” The panic is evident in your eyes as you try to pull away and talk some kind of reasoning into him. “There’s nobody, I’m telling the truth!”

The struggle you put up to release your wrist only makes you lose your balance, dropping to the dining room floor and landing on your elbow. The pain is pushed to the back of your mind as the towering, angry man before you drops with you, pinning you to the ground.

You feel frozen as he continues, too far gone in his anger to hear you out any further. 

“What does he have that you need so badly, hm?” There’s the strong odor of liquor on his breath, he’s always had a problem with drinking. Even more so after your mother passed.

“You’re being crazy.” Your voice is a whisper, trembling in disbelief at his actions. It’s never gone this far. 

“Oh, I’m being crazy? Look at you!” His eyes are wild and you’re sure he’s lost it. “My little girl would never raise her voice at me.” 

His tone lowers and the alarms in your head start to go off as your panic swells, spilling in the form of apologies and pleads for forgiveness. Anything you could think of to end this fight and go to your room. 

He doesn’t listen to you, only murmuring odd comments about your appearance. How much you look like your mother. 

It made you feel sick. So, so sick as you realize the apologies will not work.  There are no heroes coming to save you and your guardian has gone off the deep end. 

All the lingering leers, all the not-so-casual touches in the past have led up to this. Your breathing feels heavy as your heart beats relentlessly against your chest while you try to make sense of your situation. He finally tells you that you won’t leave him. Even if he has to break you, he’ll make sure of that.

Your brain kicks into overdrive as he reaches for his belt — the chiming sound triggers your fight or flight to kick into action. 

Adrenaline pumps through your body as put all your strength into a punch that lands right against his jaw. It's not much, but it's enough to knock him off kilter as you kick — successfully knocking him off of you and shakily stand to your feet, wasting no time running for the living room. 

It’s naive to think you could make it, but you try, only to have hope crushed as he grabs the back of your shirt in his fist, keeping you locked in place and the door well out of reach. 

It couldn’t end this way, you wouldn’t let it. 

You reach for the closest thing to you and it’s a potted plant in a vase. A glass vase. You don’t think, just grab the object with all your might and swing—

It shatters and he’s down. There's blood pooling below his head, but everything is quiet. You can’t believe what you’ve done. You reach your hands out, your natural instinct to heal has become muscle memory for you, but you pull them back.

He’s out like a light. He’s done.  

You look around the silent home and realize it’s only you. No bystanders, no prying eyes. Just you. So you do the only thing you can at that moment. 

You run. 

You run as fast as you can and as far as you can. 

Your first steps to freedom. 

The air is crisp. It's the only thing you can think of as your short inhales shake your body. You can’t remember where you are, what you were doing who you were with—

Until… until there's the crack of a can, the fizz of its contents bubbling and you can smell the sugary sweet soda inside. 

Tomura is in front of you, he’s still sitting and his expression is as neutral as you’ve ever seen it, but he’s holding something out to you. His energy drink. 

You blink once, twice, three times as you look from his carmine eyes back down to the can again. He’s shoving it towards you again and you can only assume he wanted you to take it. 

So you do.

You’re careful not to touch his fingers, even though they remain gloved, and bring the can to your lips. You chanced one last glance at Tomura, worried that deep down this was some kind of test that you were sure to fail, but he had already turned back to the open city. 

The drink is sweeter than you thought and you wonder how he could even drink these — in the middle of the night, no less. But it grounds you. It gives you something else to focus on.

You turn back to the sky,

“It’s getting cold out.” You speak, wanting nothing more than to fill the silence.

“Yeah.” 

The sun is starting to rise over the horizon, the tiniest peek of light through the dark, and the buzz from the energy drink was starting to rouse in your veins.

It’s a fleeting feeling — temporary, like the hazy memories of your nightmares. 

“Do you think I did the right thing?” The question falls from your lips before you can catch it, but you don’t regret asking. 

You liked to hear Shigaraki’s opinions. 

“Yeah.” He looks off into the distance, mind as far away as his gaze. He is deep in thought and you wonder if it’s about his past. “I do.”

You wished the sky looked different — a little less gray and a little more bright. 

Like there were actually stars looking down on you both. They’re not visible with all of the light pollution of a busy city, but you wished they were. At least it would be something to keep your eye on while you sat out here with Shigaraki. 

Something to distract you from the gnawing feeling in your chest. The one that screams at you about how close you were to danger. 

It’s easy to ignore. Shigaraki makes it easy. 

He is stoic by nature, but there are little actions, small things that show you he listens. 

You’ll have to prepare for the mission soon, but right now moments like these are nice.

Fleeting, like ash in the wind.

[admirableadmiranda]

After seeing a horribly misguided take on the ambush of Wei Wuxian at Qiongqi, can you explain for the class what a canon compliant reading of that moment is like? Because I think it's so easy for someone (like me) who has read the book after seeing the webseries adaptation to get things confused. (It's hard to forget your first and The Untamed was my introduction to the story.)

Thank you!

Of course! It’s not a scene I go over too often, but let’s see if I can break it down in a satisfying way.

The setting is perhaps a year after Wei Wuxian leaves to protect the Wens. They have all been living on Corpse Mountain, doing their best to avoid the jianghu’s rage and just keep living a day at a time. There is a fragile sort of hope blossoming in that it’s been almost a year and because Corpse Mountain and Yiling are kind of cut off from the jianghu that things might be getting better because they are still alive.

Wei Wuxian receives an invitation to a party for Jin Ling. I’m genuinely not certain which party as due to the Jin being the Jin, they are throwing a lot of parties for him. It’s usually referred to as his 100 day celebration, but I think in the book it’s a month after his birth. Unlike in cql, we have no idea who delivered this letter, but it is most certainly not from Lan Wangji as we would have known if he did.

For people who are living in fragile hope, it is a good sign! Wei Wuxian buys new robes in white(!) and makes an incredibly powerful gift that will essentially protect Jin Ling from all minor spiritual evils in his life. It is a gift people would kill to have. He sets out to go to Jinlintai with only Wen Ning at his side as a show of good faith and non-aggression, but not defenseless.

On their way to Jinlintai, they are stopped in Qiongqi Path when someone fires an arrow at Wei Wuxian that Wen Ning catches. Jin Zixun, Jin Zixuan’s less likeable toad of a cousin, comes out and tells Wei Wuxian that he’s surrounded by three hundred archers and demands for Wei Wuxian to remove a curse that he’s put on him.

Now we know later that it was actually Su She that cursed Jin Zixun for being an arrogant toe rag and that Jin Guangyao likely knew this as they were buddies at the time already, but he has told Jin Zixun that it was Wei Wuxian and due to the rumors flying around about him, he wholeheartedly believes it. He refuses to listen to Wei Wuxian and refuses to accept even the burden of proof in that Wei Wuxian has no markings of the backfire from such a powerful curse because obviously, being Wei Wuxian, he could just make them hit someone else, right?!

Jin Zixun is very much not a smart man. Anyway, Wei Wuxian is preparing to fight here because he’s been ambushed! And to add injury to insult, this is a planned ambush where they removed all of the bodies and anything that Wei Wuxian can influence with his guidao for at least ten miles. He literally only has Wen Ning here, his only line of defense against three hundred archers and an ambush based on lies. He removes a talisman that’s designed to help suppress Wen Ning’s rage as he’s going to need all the help he can get in this stacked fight looming in front of him.

Jin Zixuan, who has heard of his cousin taking three hundred archers and going out to ambush Wei Wuxian, who he has invited to Jin Ling’s party from Jin Guangyao (none of these facts are in fact a coincidence), shows up now. To our great and unyielding disappointment, despite this clearly being an ambush on a man he invited as his guest and Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning being two people against an army of three hundred, takes his cousin’s side. He demands for Wei Wuxian to stand down, he tells him that he’ll be tried at Jinlintai and basically ignores everything about the situation that points out that his family may not be in the right on this. Jin Zixun crushes the bell that was meant to be a present for Jin Ling beneath his foot.

At some point while he and Wei Wuxian are arguing, he draws his sword and starts to lunge at Wei Wuxian, a war veteran. Faced with sudden, escalating hostility, Wei Wuxian reacts on instinct and commands Wen Ning to stop Jin Zixuan from attacking him. Wen Ning does. Fatally.

Now this is not what Wei Wuxian wanted at all and it is a loss of control, but also how many stories have we heard in real life about people with strong triggers associated with being attacked having someone approach them in an obviously aggressive way and react on instinct? Wei Wuxian had no reason to believe that Jin Zixuan wasn’t a part of this whole mess from the beginning, and while later clarity of mind and Jin Zixuan’s last words give him some indication that it wasn’t planned, at that very moment he was reacting to an escalating threat.

The real loss of control comes when he sees what has happened, Jin Zixuan dying on Wen Ning’s arm in front of everyone. After a year of living and waiting for the hammer to fall, that cautious hope that an invitation to his shijie’s son’s month birthday party might mean that they’re not inevitably doomed and then the utter betrayal of the ambush and Jin Zixuan’s actions, he loses control and Wen Ning kills everyone in Qiongqi Path before carrying a nigh-catatonic Wei Wuxian back to the safety of Corpse Mountain.

It is a tragedy in all senses of the word. It gives the Jin exactly what they need to rile up dissent against Wei Wuxian into actual action. It gives them a concrete action to point too. Jin Zixuan’s invitation to Wei Wuxian was well known, so it wrecks what remains of his reputation and at this point no matter what Wei Wuxian or anyone else does, the people living in Corpse Mountain are doomed.

Qiongqi Path 2.0 is basically the ultimate machination of the Jin and the collapse of what little stability Wei Wuxian had left in his first life. Less than a week after this, Wen Qing will be dead and Wen Ning heavily implied to be manipulated into killing the Nie and Lan cultivators who came to see their executions; when they were promised by Jin Guangshan that if they turned themselves in, he and the others would leave the people on corpse mountain alone. What with the two clans that didn’t have an active vendetta against Wei Wuxian now dragged in by Wen Ning’s murder, it will be easy for the Jin to rally them into an army against Wei Wuxian at Nightless City and spark the final chain of events that leads to the end of Wei Wuxian’s first life.

Wei Wuxian is culpable in the extent that he lost control and killed everyone there. But given the factors in play, he is certainly not an unreasonable aggressor or reacting without cause to anything that’s going on.

Jin Zixuan has never been kind or reasonable to him once whenever they’ve met in person. As a teenager he disparages Jiang Yanli in front of him multiple times and Wei Wuxian is honorbound to defend her from the societal impact of Jin Zixuan’s careless words. As adults, Jin Zixuan tells Jiang Cheng to control his servant in Wei Wuxian’s face when he continues to defend Jiang Yanli from a man who has at that point still shown her no respect or care in the slightest. They have a terrible relationship and one that while equally hostile from both ends, is more built off of Jin Zixuan’s actions than Wei Wuxian’s. We can even see that in the Xuanwu Cave that Wei Wuxian admires his willingness to stand up for Mianmian when the Wen are going for her.

The fact of the matter is, is that Jin Zixuan had a history of deliberately antagonizing Wei Wuxian and also taking his first interpretation of a series of events as truth and refusing to listen to contradictory evidence. He gets away with it for a number of years due to his prestige and position, but eventually he takes that childish attitude onto a battlefront, and it gets him killed.

There may be no second flute user at Qiongqi Path in the book and the blood is on Wei Wuxian’s hands. But to claim that it is his fault and that he was responsible for things going wrong is a very bad take indeed.

A canon compliant take on Qiongqi Path is that it is the ultimate chess move of the Jin against him, where in the end Jin Guangyao sacrifices a rook and takes Wei Wuxian’s last defending pieces before using him as the utter scapegoat of the jianghu in his and the Jin Clan’s rise to power. And also a reminder that if you continue to push people to their limits and treat them badly constantly, eventually they will have nothing left in which to treat you well.

I hope this helps!

[tteokdoroki]

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — KATSUKU BAKUGOU. setting powder.

about. whilst getting ready to meet your new boyfriend’s extended family — you learn that he knows a thing or two about doing makeup.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters aged up to 20s, enemies to lovers, meeting the family, new relationships, brief mention of injury and hospitals, reader wears makeup and dresses, pro hero!bakugou, nurse/doctor!reader.

“we’re gonna be late, sweetheart.”

leaning against the door frame, bakugou crosses his arms over his chest — his perfect lips pulled into a suave smirk as he watches you finish your makeup for tonight.

“wha…huh? you said i had twenty minutes?” you’re still half dressed, your boyfriend’s baggy hoodie from an old merch collection draped over your sweet little dress to protect it from your foundation, your hair is tied back and away from your face so it doesn’t get in the way and though you’re still trying to blend your cream blush in with one of those sponge things — katsuki thinks you’re the most adorable thing in the entire world.

pushing himself off the door frame, he sits behind you on the bed — still watching you work at the vanity whilst he fixes the cuffs of his dress shirt. “that was twenty minutes ago,” the blonde rasps affectionately and grasps your at your jewellery laid out on the bed. the rough pad of his thumb traces over the ‘K’ on the silver heart locket he’d gotten you for your birthday before he undoes the clasp and places the chain around your neck — being mindful of your hair in the process. “y’said you’d be done by then.”

you catch your boyfriend’s vermillion stare in the reflection of your mirror — his subtle smile when he sees his initials dangling from your neck. it feels you with warmth to know that no matter what, katsuki will always find you beautiful and will always love you. even with how chaotic your makeup looks when half done. “i think i spent too long in the shower ‘n underestimated how long this look would take,” you sigh, reaching for your lip gloss next. you’ll have to put it in your purse, do your lips in the car. “do you think they’ll mind if we’re any later than this?”

“my parents won’t. neither will inko. deku — i mean — izuku will, but he’ll pretend he ain’t bothered,” bakugou prattles down the list, making a note of tonight’s attendees. it was tradition that the bakugous and the midoriyas had a monthly dinner together, it had been going on since the two pro heroes were children. only now, their partners were invited since they were family too. family included you.

you hadn’t gone to U.A and you certainly didn’t know katsuki until he became an up and coming pro hero. the first time he’d saved you, by the sidewalk of the hospital you worked at, you thought he was brutish and stuck up. you’d hated him and he’d hated you. but over time, and more frequent trips to A&E after saving civilians or sometimes after being wounded in villain attacks — you’d come to appreciate bakugou’s brooding personality and observant nature.

he’d come to like you too. how much you cared for others and wanted to make the world a better place. you reminded him a little bit of izuku, in a strange way.

so one night when you were on call, katsuki brought you flowers instead of a stomach wound that needed stitches and you’d given him a kiss instead of berating him about being careful, over vanilla and chocolate pudding cups from the hospital cafeteria.

signing impatiently, you bring katsuki back to present day. “i wanted to make a good impression on your aunty and on your best friend,” rubbing your arm nervously, you cast your gaze over the mess on your vanity — expensive products splayed across them in organised chaos.

“you will. they’re gonna love you. they already do,” bakugou stands behind you now, rough palms smoothing over your shoulders. “izuku says you’ve made me less bitchy at work. whatever the fuck that means.”

you giggle, eyes sparkling in delight as you look at the blonde in the mirror. “really?”

“really,” he nods sheepishly. the way you look at him makes him feel so loved. it’s new to him. nice to him. “now, whaddya need help with s’we can hurry up ‘n hit the road.”

you begin to ramble on, perking up at the idea of katsuki helping with the rest of your routine.“well… i’ve done my lashes, my eyes, my base and blush… i can do lips in the car. aside from putting on earrings and fixing my hair all i need is to set my face with—“

“settin’ powder,” bakugou grabs the little pot from your vanity as if he knew where it was all along, picking up a little face cushion as well as he prepares to get to work. “got it.” he dips the cushion into the translucent powder, rubbing the excess off on the back of his hand before leaning in real close to dab at the areas he thinks you need it. like your t-zone.

your boyfriend’s touch is like magic on your face, perfectly setting your makeup while making you feel like a pampered princess. “who taught you how to do this?” comes your shy mumble, his proximity to your face causing you to grow flustered and squirm in your seat. “h-how are you so good at it?”

“keep still, i’ll be finished faster if y’stop squirmin’ sweetheart. don’t wanna mess up what you’ve done already,” pausing his actions, katsuki gives you a toothy smirk — revelling in how bashful you’ve become under his touch while he helps you with your makeup. “…grew up behind the scenes of fashion shows ‘n shoots. so i picked up a thing or two i wanted to make sure i could still do it so i watched a couple of videos on it too. ‘n i noticed…you always put so much time ‘n effort into your makeup. wanted to help make the process easier for you.”

you feel as though you could melt at katsuki’s kind words and gesture as he dabs at your face a little more — tongue caught between the toes of his pew rlly white teeth as he sticks it out in concentration. he’s so cute it makes you want to scream. “you’re sweet,” you coo appreciatively, stilling yourself to let him finish before he pulls back — satisfied with his work. “i love you.”

it’s not the first time you’ve said it to one another, but the three words are still new to the both of you. “i uh…i love you more,” a pink, rosey hue rises on the surface of bakugou’s tanned skin and his red, loving eyes dart away from your face bashfully. “‘m gonna get your shoes ‘n jacket ready by the door while that sits. don’t forget your settin’ spray after you brush that shit off — oh ‘n don’t take my hoodie off until you’ve done that. don’t wanna ruin your dress, kay?”

“okay,” you respond fondly, hiding your smile at his very specific instructions. “i’ll be down in a minute.”

katsuki nods hesitantly, standing up as he gathers your belongings and outerwear — ready to load them up in the car, when he suddenly pauses in place. “you look beautiful tonight, sweetness. you always do.” he adds as one last parting message, before disappearing down the hall.

leaving you wondering how you ever lucked out with such a man. one who’s not only kind and gentle and loving, but a pro hero and a makeup artist at that.

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

[in-the-multiverse]

HotGuy is the bravest, sharpest, most handsomest hero in all of Hermit City. That’s what he’d tell you, anyway. Nobody can agree on what HotGuy is. A hero to some, villain to others. There’s a universal agreement he’s a wanna-be show off of some kind. Him and that pesky bird…

Scar is determined to win over the citys’ hearts (and charitable diamonds) so who better to face off against than King Cleo? With his charming smile, trusty bow, and sidekick CuteGuy, nothing can go wrong!

Coming soon to a theater near you /j

(but these are screenshot style pieces for what I imagine an animated hotguy movie would look like. More ramblings about this au below)

[trailer] / 1

King Cleo would IMMEDIATELY put them in their place like a teacher lecturing the entire class on how they’ve been misbehaving. But that’s no fun right away, so why not let them learn their lesson? >:)

HotGuy and CuteGuy are an iconic duo in Hermit City. King Cleo and Entropy (Cub) are another iconic duo. Whether each team is heroic or villainous depends on who you ask. Even the city residents are split on opinions

Except Bdubs. He runs a podcast spilling conspiracy theories and dragging almost every “hero” name into the mud (his attitude is very inspired by J. Jonah Jameson from Spiderman). He believes they’re menaces and should stay out of the city’s local problems because 9/10 they somehow make it worse. He’s very critical of these 4 in particular, and it doesn’t help that they all like to personally mess with him for the fun of it

Far off in the city outskirts, a living folktale hides in the forest. An amalgamation of creatures that make up one giant monster, and coming across their path is…certainly an experience. They speak in poetry and think out loud, peering deep into the soul of their visitor with just a few words. Sightings are few and far in between, but each interaction is memorable- to say the least. Their name is Joe Hills. A very close friend to King Cleo (but nobody else knows that)

And! an explanation to HotGuy’s mobility aid

With the best high-tech, Scar’s wheelchair can reshape into a mechanical griffin with the press of a button. It lets him take to the sky and hotguy targets! Griffins also have conflicting symbolism, which reflects his persona

Good and Evil. Light and Dark. They’re said to be harbingers of chaos. Mischief certainly seems to follow HotGuy wherever he goes. Be wary of his smirk

They’re also said to be gentle protectors. He shows up to help citizens and tiny creatures alike. With a voice so soothing, any trouble they face is wiped off like nothing (or, ends up feeling a little easier to handle)

Griffins are one of the most remarkable creatures in mythology, their stories told and twisted through generations, but how does the griffin tell his own story?

I’ve got a few ideas I wanna draw so I’ll be posting more of this under #hotguy wotk au

[starleska]

i think ‘Big’ Jack Horner is Disney, and here’s why

many of us have had the pleasure of seeing the incredible Puss in Boots: The Last Wish by now, and were blown away by its clever writing, enchanting animation and emotional character arcs. yet there is one character who booted the trend of having a reason for his behaviour, and outright refused to experience any growth whatsoever.

let’s talk about ‘Big’ Jack Horner, and why i think he’s supposed to represent Disney:

‘Big’ Jack Horner isn’t just an antagonist in The Last Wish - he’s a villain. a self-obsessed, exploitative, murderous, petty, cruel bastard of a man whose awful behaviour isn’t just motivated by personal slights or childhood trauma: he sincerely enjoys hurting other people. whether it’s cheating his goons (’The Serpent Sisters’) out of a fair payment for their services or being excited about shooting a puppy in the face, there’s no denying that Jack delights in causing others pain and suffering. but what does he have to do with Disney?

let’s answer that question with another question: do you think that Jack, when placed next to the other antagonists - Goldi, The Three Bears, even Death - sticks out like a sore, plum-coloured thumb?

of course he does! but why? well, let’s look at Jack on a surface level. Jack is a monolith of a human being. not only is he physically huge and intimidating, he is the inheritor of an enormous pastry fortune and operates in the manner of a mob boss, with countless resources and a whole variety of powerful magical items at his disposal. indeed, Jack employs a crack team of bakers/assassins called ‘The Baker’s Dozen’ to carry out many of his tasks. although Jack does harm others himself, it is because of these resources - including the people who work for him - that he is able to bypass many of the obstacles faced by our protagonists in an honest and character-developing way (e.g., the Pocket Full O’Posies in The Dark Forest). Jack doesn’t need to have a character arc the way the other characters do, because he is so wealthy and owns so much.

but Jack’s reason for owning so much and being obsessed with magic and magical items isn’t through intellectual curiosity, or a traumatic backstory where he needed to learn how to wield magic. do you know what Jack’s covert motivation for owning all of the magic in the world is?

it’s money.

when we get the flashback of Jack’s childhood, dancing for the entertainment of an audience using his nursery rhyme, we see him becoming jealous of Pinocchio - and we see Gepetto in the back, absolutely raking in the cash. if we consider this flashback as that crucial moment within which Jack decided to become what he is today - and the presence of our off-brand Jiminy Cricket inclines us to think so - then we can understand that Jack decided that from that moment forward, he would own all of the magic. 

let’s go back to The Baker’s Dozen for a moment. this team of highly-competent, multidisciplinary artisans do everything for Jack, whether it’s baking the pies which make him rich, or laying down their lives at his service. we aren’t given an in-universe reason for why they do this. yes, Jack is feared, but he is still the subject of mockery due to his humble beginnings as a nursery rhyme character. it certainly isn’t due to being treated or paid well. however, if we view the Baker’s Dozen as a metaphor for overworked, exploited artists whose views are routinely dismissed by the money-hungry, powerful corporation who owns their craft...things start to add up, don’t they? considering historic allegations of worker abuse at the hands of Disney, having Jack Horner literally step on their spines and encourage them to flex takes on a whole different meaning. 

it doesn’t end there. do you recognise the items that Jack pulls out of his Mary Poppins bag when his Baker’s Dozen are being destroyed by the Pocket Full O’Posies - the items that he calls ‘the big guns’? it’s the broomstick from Fantasia, the spinning wheel from Sleeping Beauty, the size snacks from Alice in Wonderland, and a knock-off Jiminy Cricket from Pinocchio - all references to some of Disney’s earliest and most famous films.

still don’t believe me? well, let’s recap more of the items Jack has in his repertoire:

a hook-hand (referencing Captain Hook in Peter Pan)

a trident (referencing King Triton in The Little Mermaid)

poison apple bombs (referencing The Evil Queen in Snow White)

a glass slipper (again referencing Cinderella)

remember what happens when the knock-off Jiminy Cricket (interesting that there are so many Pinocchio references specifically, huh?) is horrified that Jack is losing so many men? Jack says he isn’t worried about losing the manpower, because he has a bottomless bag full of magical weapons. Jack literally gets his power off of the backs of his workers. sounds a lot like a big company justifying worker layoffs and exploitation because they have so many properties and are too big to fail, doesn’t it? 

hell, Jack doesn’t even know what half of these items do! when he’s using the unicorn horns as ammo, he is surprised that they cause people to explode in a shower of confetti. viewing Jack through this lens, it’s difficult not to think about enormous corporations gobbling up properties and churning out content with little to no regard for their artists (looking back at The Baker’s Dozen - some of whom do perish in the fight with the unicorn horns) or what the properties are about. we haven’t even touched on Jack coveting the Wishing Star, a recurring motif in countless Disney movies as representing magic, dreams, and boundless creativity. 

now, i hear you saying, ‘but Star! why would DreamWorks bother writing their bad guy as a metaphor for Disney?’ believe it or not, this isn’t the first time that DreamWorks have done this. in case you didn’t know, Lord Farquaad is a caricature of Michael Eisner, former chairman and CEO of The Walt Disney Company. the production of Shrek was actually quite troubled; animators who were perceived as having failed on other projects were ‘Shreked’, or sent to work on Shrek, instead of working on other (presumed to be more lucrative) films. of course, DreamWorks was co-founded by previous Disney CEO Jeffrey Katzenberg, hence the animosity towards Disney and its works evident in the Shrek franchise. this is what formed the story of Shrek: an ugly, crude outsider character taking on the clean-cut moralising of a dictator hell-bent on a so-called ‘perfect’ world, all created against the creative backdrop of a painful separation from Disney and a great deal of pent-up rage. 

the irreverent, crass and sometimes adult humour of Shrek was a middle finger to Disney’s high-censorship control on animation. this is why Lord Farquaad (which you may have noticed sounds a bit like ‘Fuckwad’) is so obsessed with Duloc being ‘perfect’, and why he couldn’t stand the freedom of the fairy tale creatures who are the heroes of the first Shrek movie.

in fact, this kind of meta-commentary permeates the Shrek franchise: 

The Fairy Godmother from Shrek 2, despite being a fairy tale creature herself, is highly prejudiced against characters who break out of their perceived social norms: i.e., Shrek marrying Princess Fiona and getting his Happily Ever After. she is an expansion of the control left over by Lord Farquaad, and rich because of her monopolisation of fairy tale creatures and their stories. 

Prince Charming in Shrek the Third fails miserably to capitalise on these themes, but we’ll get back to him! 

Rumpelstiltskin from Shrek Forever After tackles the gluttony of franchise reboots, and how soulless and rooted in corporate greed attempts to reboot often are. whilst not necessarily Disney-specific, Shrek Forever After follows the box office bomb that was Shrek the Third: a movie which noticeably fails to write a compelling narrative approaching any of the themes of the previous two films. the writers learned from their mistakes and wrote a movie which satirised their own selling-out of the franchise, becoming hollow and unnecessary and ‘perfect’ - the very thing they were making fun of in the earlier Shrek films.

there is one more area i’d like to touch on: Jack Horner’s source material. we know that Little Jack Horner is quite obscure: an 18th-century English nursery rhyme involving a boy who pulls a plum out of a pie with his thumb, and congratulates himself for his fortitude. but did you know that from its earliest conception, Little Jack Horner was associated with foolishness and dishonesty?

it’s true: the simple yet inexplicable nature of the poem was lambasted for being infantile, and quickly became the subject of revision, moralisation, and even political satire. it is no mistake that to ‘be under one’s thumb’ (as many of the characters in The Last Wish are to Jack, both literally and figuratively) means to be under one’s decisive control. the choice of Jack Horner for the villain of The Last Wish is a clever one, because we could easily have ended up with a sympathetic Jack, whose ostracisation as ‘not even a fairy tale’ may have led to a justifiable motive, even for his specific brand of cruelty. but instead, the writers of The Last Wish have gone one step further; they’ve transformed a source affiliated with idiocy and deception into a metaphor for a global multimedia conglomerate...all while portraying him as simultaneously terrifying, powerful, and ridiculous. 

it has been over a decade since Shrek Forever After was released, and Disney has changed dramatically in that time. a global giant, Disney now owns more enormous money-making properties than ever thought possible, and consistently capitalises on nostalgia for its early properties to make more money and accumulate power. since breaking out of its exclusive licensing agreement with Disney in 2016, DreamWorks has had no official connection to Disney, making the ground for mockery and satirisation of the company which spawned the studio all the more fertile. ‘Big’ Jack Horner is not just a glamorous return to form for the dreadful, unapologetically evil villain which Disney has eschewed in modern times - he’s a hulking, egocentric monster whose avarice rivals that only of the corporation he’s inspired by. 

and those are my thoughts on ‘Big’ Jack Horner! of course this is by no means the definitive interpretation - we should all just have fun with the movie and come up with whatever theories we like 🥰💖 i’d love to hear your thoughts on him and The Last Wish in general - he’s definitely one of my favourite bad guys to be released in the past few years!

thanks so much for reading, and have yourselves a wonderful day 🥰

[artist-issues]

You know what’s great about Dr. Facilier?

He’s the perfect villain opposite both Tiana and Naveen.

He’s not exactly like Jafar or Ursula, who know they’re evil and delight in it as like, a lifestyle. He’s more like Scar. He’s introduced getting money on the street through cons and feeling satisfied…until Big Daddy LeBouf drives by with all his money and makes him feel insignificant.

You get the idea that something in life made him this way—there was a beginning to his villainy. You don’t get that sense from like, Clayton or Gaston.

So he’s a relatable character with flaws, to an extent.

But those flaws specifically play off of Tiana and Naveen’s characterizations.

Tiana has no real respect from her peers—she is in a position to be jealous of Lottie the same way Facilier is jealous of the Cotton King. But where Tiana simply works hard and refuses to let others make her bitter, Facilier has clearly taken shortcuts. Or…”the easy way.”

Then there’s Naveen.

Naveen has no thought beyond the present; he thinks they’re “on this earth to have some fun,” and frequently jumps without looking at the consequences. Leaps without looking! Doesn’t stop to find out if the girl he’s kissing is a real princess even though he knew his original invitation was to a costume party, forgets that he’s supposed to be getting married and plans on continuing his playboy lifestyle, wanders into a shadow-man’s shop. But eventually he learns to open his eyes to what’s important, and what will last, in Tiana. And he takes that seriously; if he marries her instead of Charlotte, he has to get three jobs.

Facilier, on the other hand? He not only does the opposite of Tiana and has taken shortcuts to get where he is—but he also suffers from Naveen’s flaw; he keeps making what are basically get-rich-quick schemes with his “friends on the other side.” When we meet him, he’s stressed and certainly on edge about failing—but that doesn’t stop him from asking for more and more debt from the demons, and he basically goes to his grave still making promises he can’t keep…like Naveen’s promise he couldn’t keep to pay Tiana for kissing him.

He’s got Tiana’s focus and Naveen’s charisma. He’s got Tiana’s lofty goals and Naveen’s dependence on others to do his dirty work.

He’s exactly like Tiana and Naveen put together, aged about twenty years, but with none of their good qualities. Perfect villain for those two main characters.

But he’s also the opposite of Mama Odie.

He entices innocents with what they want while she lights their way by explaining what they need.

He wants total control, while she’s satisfied with simply giving advice and sending people on their way.

He directly transforms his victims, while Mama Odie shows Tiana and Naveen how to work toward their transformation on their own. I mean, you guys noticed that she could have done it for them, right?

But she doesn’t, because she’s the symbol of that Disney Faith-Based morals: you act on what you know is true instead of taking the easy way to what you want. Facilier does the opposite: he promises to give you the easy way to what you want, and tries to tell you why you should accept his deals—but his reasons are all lies.

That’s how you write a villain, ladies and gentlemen.

[coralinnii]

Congrats on 2.7k! The villain(ess) saga is my bread and butter hehe.

Anyways Id like to request borderline desperate Jamil trying to figure out Readers fav food as they can and will literally eat anything without complaint(even Lilia's cooking lol). Thank you 💖

‧₊˚✧A Dash of Sweetness ‧₊˚✧

↳ Reader S/O who eats anything

feat: Jamil  genre: fluff (like shojou manga level sweetness) note: no pronouns used with the reader, idiots in love, kinda oblivious!reader, roughly 1k words,

Random storytime, my big bro once got hungry and cooked himself eggs while the rest of us were out, and no one told him the eggs went bad. He was absolutely fine the entire day and none of us would have known if not for my bro saying it’s weird that the egg he ate was green. Yet, he said the french toasts I made once were bland T_T

Anyway, this took a while because I honestly didn't know how this story will end up, hopefully you enjoy it ^_^

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Jamil can deny all day and night, but he really likes to see you enjoy his cooking. For all the times he told you that he already has his hands full with Kalim, there was suspiciously always a warm lunchbox filled with aromatic meals made by yours truly. All for that bright smile of yours whenever you would finish off the “leftover” meal that Jamil would generously share with you. 

When Jamil realized that others have fed you, his hidden competitive nature rose. While there were many competent students with skills in the kitchen, within Jamil was a desire to see a special shine in your eyes when he cooks your favorite dish, a visual only for him.

But be it due to pride or embarrassment, Jamil doesn’t seem to be the type to be upfront with his intentions, nor does he take the straightforward tactic. Instead of asking you directly, he would ease his way through conversations with your friends just to find out your most favored dish per chance. But that turned out that that was harder than he expected. 

Day after day, Jamil would hand you a new type of dish and watch your reaction for the slightest hint of preference. Perhaps a raise of your eyebrows, a slower time to take in the taste, anything. He's racking his brain and looked for every sort of dish and recipes from all parts of Twisted Wonderland for the slight chance he comes across a dish to your absolute liking. But each time, you simply smiled graciously and thanked him for sharing with you, not that he disliked it since he did get to spend more time with you through all of this. 

But each attempt makes him all the more impatient, and curious. If you looked this beautiful just eating something good, Jamil wondered how you’d look if he served you your most favored dish? Would he see your eyes light up with joy, your body shaking with excitement, your cheeks so cutely puffy and full with every bite, maybe even bring him into a spontaneous embrace filled with so much gratitude, perhaps even a kiss…  

“I’m getting ahead of myself.” Jamil hid his face in embarrassment, but the burning ears and racing heart revealed how much he wanted to see that side of you.

You found it odd how often it’s been that Jamil was offering you leftover food this past week. You’re certainly not complaining but it’s always something new everyday. Sometimes Jamil would hand you a meal mixed with aromatic spices, other times an array of sugary sweet treats and pastries. It could be a simple stew that warms your soul one day, or it could be a unique cuisine with a variety of paired side dishes. 

But every day, you would notice that he would glance your way occasionally as you partake in this gracious meal, and it’s making you a bit antsy. 

“You’ve been watching me for a while.” Your voice seemed to break whatever concentration the Scarabia student had. “Is there something you’re expecting me to say?” 

Like a deer in headlights, Jamil flinched and felt a small wave of embarrassment when he realized he was caught watching you. He was sure that he was being discrete, but he supposed that as days went on he had gotten a tad bit restless and hasty. He got sloppy, he cursed to himself.

Quickly shaking his nerves away, he replied with a smile to ease you. “I’m simply glad the food is to your taste.” 

You were hardly convinced by that. Was he experimenting with dishes, you wondered. You tried to offer some insights and compliments which seemed to satisfy the long-haired upperclassman, but you felt a sneaky suspicion that he was hoping for something else. 

“Jamil, I’m really happy that you’ve been sharing all this food with me.” You said as you settled the lunchbox to your side. “But I don’t think I’m the best person if you're looking for a detailed review on food.”

Ah yes, Jamil was aware of your generous palate. While trying to discreetly find your preferences, Jamil first assumed you had a sweet tooth when you praised the Heartslabyul vice-housewarden for his sweets. But then, Jamil overheard you enjoying your visits to Mostro Lounge so perhaps you had a pension for seafood…Then, he was thrown for a loop when he heard from a giddy Lilia that he was delighted to see you have such a rigorous appetite, having tried and finished the beef-seafood-fruit stew he made for his dormmates. 

You...were not picky, to say the least.

You felt a pang of shame for your lack of refined judgment in cuisine. “Your food is really good. Sorry, I don't know what else I can say about it that is helpful to you.”

That’s it. Jamil saw an opening. “Perhaps, I could make your favorite food,” his voice sounded as though it was a spontaneous thought. “Then it would be something you can speak more on a personal level.” 

All other attempts to learn your food preferences failed in the past, but now there was an opportunity to learn firsthand from the source. It wasn’t strange, was it? It was simply the flow of the conversation, and all the long-haired upperclassman did was offer an option. What an auspicious break for Jamil.

But when Jamil looked to you to gauge your reaction, you surprised him. 

You stared at him, eyes wide with shock. Your lips quivered and shook, as though your body was nervously processing his words, which deeply worried Jamil. Has he somehow offended you? How?! 

Finally, you spoke. “You would make something…just for me?” 

“Yes, if that’s something alright with you?”

All this time, you were under the impression that Jamil was offering you food that couldn’t be finished, and you were content with taking whatever was offered, happy that the vice-housewarden thought of you in some way. But having Jamil make something homemade purposely with you in mind… to think of you as he makes the effort to do something, hoping you will enjoy it. A sweet gesture made for you, and you alone.

Feelings of butterflies filled you as your cheeks felt hot at such thoughts. You felt your lips quiver as a goofy smile crept its way onto your face, but you tried to hide your giddiness behind your fingers.

You thought for a bit, then softly you replied. “Curry would be nice.” 

Hmm? Jamil was surprised. That’s his favorite…  

“Then, we can eat together.” You smiled nervously. “I think sharing with someone you like makes food taste better.” 

Such a lovely sight of two shy fools. One was grinning oddly while the other was hiding his shamefully burning face behind his hood.

[shadowbriar]

James Potter - Traitor

Pairing : James Potter x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.9k Warning : Cliffhanger (sort of). Not proofread as always. Synopsis : As gracious and angelic Lily Evans is, she couldn’t help but to see her as some villain who might steal him away. Notes : Inspired by this request and Olivia Rodrigo - Traitor. Pretty sort as I don't know if anon would like a happy or sad ending? If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ James Potter's Masterlist click here. Taglist : @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sofiacblair @coffeehurricanes @ineedmentalhelp123

She should’ve known better. She should’ve known that when he pulled that stunt at the Great Hall, proclaiming his feelings and just how desperate he’s been to get her attention, that it was only a projection of the words he wanted to confess to another. She should’ve known that when he looked at her with those eyes that were filled with love, it would never compare to the affection he hoards for another. She should’ve known that with every promise, every sweet nonsense he whispered to her ears, they were truly addressed for another.

The signs were laid bare for her to see. From the way he stopped holding her hands in the hallway to making up excuses and cancelling their dates. His kisses have turned into quick pecks before they’re gone altogether. The jokes he used to share have stopped coming. Dissipating into thin air with no warning.

Supposedly it was her fault. She should’ve said something, calling him out from the lack of effort he’s been showing but she knew she was pulling on a thin thread. Their relationship has always been based on a frail foundation. She knew that deep down there was no other woman that could topple his first love, so she kept quiet. Crying herself to sleep and praying to whoever might listen out there to help salvage their relationship. Anything to keep him just a little bit longer.

“Love, you left your hair tie in my room,” James says once he takes a seat, busying himself with the stack of pancakes in front of him.

She takes the unassuming item and examines it. This hair tie wasn’t hers. She doesn’t have bright orange hair ties, “This isn’t mine, James.”

“Oh,” He responded, taking the item and placing it in his pocket nonchalantly “Must be Lily’s then.”

“Lily?”

“Yeah, we had an impromptu study session last night after our rounds. She helped me with my potion essays.”

“But we promised to do that essay together,” She says, forcing a smile as she tries her best to conceal her disappointment and heartbreak “I waited for you to have some free time so we can work on it together.”

“Yes well, like I said, it was an impromptu session. We finished our rounds earlier than expected so we figured we could use the free time to do the assignment.” He explained, still oblivious to the harm done to her heart “Shouldn’t you be proud I’ve finally managed to finish an assignment earlier than due? This is a huge improvement for me, don’t you think?”

Her head nods, another pretend smile decorating her face. James looks happy and proud of his achievement. It was true. When else would you find James Potter diligently working his schoolwork? He’s always been one of those students who waits for the adrenaline rush of working everything at the last minute. He’s brilliant, perhaps too brilliant to ever spare an hour in revising his notes and making flashcards for the upcoming exams, so this certainly is a huge improvement to celebrate for. If only it wasn’t because of Lily.

“You’ve been spending more time with Lily, lately.” She points out. Her hands were shaking, knowing that the pool she’s stepping in might be deeper than it seems and she might not know how to swim to the shore but she needed to start somewhere. She needs to save their relationship somehow.

James’ brows furrow, a slight sign of disagreement, “Not really. Our rounds just happened to be scheduled together a lot this month.”

“Well, you also cancelled our study date last week for her.”

“Yeah, that’s because she needed my help with Divination.”

A rude laughter escapes her, “You’re the worst from our House in Divination, James. She doesn’t need your help.”

“Where are you going with this?” He finally snaps, turning to face her with evident annoyance in his eyes “I thought you would be happy with me finally trying to fix my grades.”

“I am. I just didn’t realise that needed to be done by increasing the amount of time you share with your ex-crush.”

“Oh, so you’re jealous?”

She was quiet now. Sure it was jealousy that plagued her mind the first time he began drifting away but these days, these days she’s only been insecure and worried for their sinking ship. Anxiety over the chance of her being replaced by someone who has always had his heart has been haunting her nights. As gracious and angelic Lily Evans is, she couldn’t help but to see her as some villain who might steal him away.

“You’re being paranoid, again.” James scoffs, turning completely blind and deaf to her silent agony “There’s nothing going on between me and Lily. I’m trying to fix my grades for me. She just happens to be a great teacher and companion to help me study.”

She's still quiet, weighing if she should believe his words.

"Please, I don't want to fight," James sighs, dropping the fork on his hand and taking hers to show his sincerity "She's just a friend, I promise."

There was truly nothing left for her to say that wouldn’t act as petrol to their burning bridge. James wasn’t listening. For a while now he hasn’t truly cared about a word she’s said and it was painful to finally understand this. That he might never have been as sincere as she thought him to be. Or perhaps he did, once, yet that feeling has died a long time ago with no chance of revival. His feelings for her have withered, faded into nothingness.

And it’s only a matter of time before the flame in her heart dies too.

—-

It was a nasty fall.

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this much worry and cried so much from something Madam Promfrey claims as ‘nothing but a light nudge on the head’, but she was there when the bludger hit his head. She was there when James began losing balance of his broom and falling to the hard ground. She was there when the team crowd around their passed out captain.

Her eyes were getting heavy now. The watch on her wrist has shown that she has skipped dinner a few hours ago. Some of the lights on the hospital wing have been turned off, making the hall darker as night falls deeper. If it wasn’t for the boys coming to visit James half an hour ago, she would be left starving and secretly creeped out by the eerie feeling of the infirmary.

“You should get some rest, Love, you’ve been waiting here for hours.” Remus advises, giving her shoulder a slight squeeze.

“He should be up anytime soon, now,” She reasoned as she looked up to see the tall boy “I want to be there when he wakes up.”

“Trust me, Dove, knowing Prongs, he might just sleep in till tomorrow,” Sirius added “Besides, you won’t miss a thing. He’ll still be the same obnoxious Potter tomorrow morning.”

A small curl of smile tugs on her lips.

“Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” Peter offers this time.

“You don’t have to, Wormy. I’m fine—”

“Dove, please,” Sirius begs “You look awful. And I mean this in the most endearing way but you could really use a bath.”

“Thank you, Pads,” She rolls her eyes, finally standing from her seat and glaring at the raven haired boy “Your honesty is always something I could count on, even in the darkest time.”

Sirius grins, nodding, “I am a man of honour.”

“Let me know if anything happens? If he wakes up?”

“We will,” Remus reassures “Goodnight, Love.”

With a last bid of hug and ignoring the still awful churning feeling in her gut, she links arm with Peter and walks out of the hospital wing. It’s been hours since she’s waited for her boyfriend to wake up from his sleep and the fatigue plaguing her body has only been recognised as she takes further steps away from the infirmary. Perhaps the worry has amplified the soreness of her muscles. It’s never an easy life dating the Captain of Gryffindor team.

She hates to admit it, but she might really need that bath Sirius was talking about.

And just when they were about to exit the tower, her brain reminded her of her left satchel, “Shoot, I forgot something.” She groans, letting out a frustrated sigh “Give me ten minutes?”

“Is it that important?” Peter asks “We can just bring it to you later.”

“I’ll be quick, I promise. I have to finish my paper for the first period tomorrow, I need to get my satchel.”

Peter only nods at her as she begins running back to the ward. Truth be told, she’s finished the paper as she waited for James earlier. Leaving her satchel was completely by accident and she could’ve just continued walking back to her dormitory and ask the boys to bring it to her later, but why would she pass up a chance to see her boyfriend one last time?

“So did she come?”

A smile blooms on her face as she hears James’ voice echoes faintly. He’s up.

“Of course she did, she waited for you for hours.” Sirius answers “She’s your girlfriend, Prongs, she never left.”

“Oh,” James answered, the disappointment dripping from his tone slows down her steps “I was asking about Lily, actually.”

There was a pause. She could see Sirius and Remus exchanging a glance from behind their backs. If it wasn’t for the curtain blocking James’ view, he would’ve seen her coming.

“So did she come?” James asks again.

“No, Prongs. Why would she come?” Remus asks, his tone slightly rising in annoyance.

“I don’t know,” James answers “I thought we were getting closer. I just figured she’d want to check on me.”

“Well, she didn’t,” Sirius says this time, the same level of irritation evident in his tone “Why are you even thinking of her? You have a brilliant girlfriend who cares for you. Who literally spent hours sitting on that awful chair, worried about your bonked head, and the first thing you asked about when you woke up was Lily?”

“It was just a question, Pads. No need to get all worked up on me.”

“Well, your question is rubbish, Prongs.”

“Why are you—”

“Hey guys,” She says, finally showing herself from behind the curtain “Sorry, I left my satchel. Oh, hello James, you finally woke up.”

She could see the surprise on James’ eyes that he quickly blinked away with a sweet smile, “Hello, Darling.”

“I’m glad you’re up. Are you feeling okay?”

“Still dizzy, but I’ll live.” He says warmly “Will you stay with me tonight?”

“Uh, no, I need to finish my papers.” She says instead, fighting the loud ringing in her ears from the heartache “Besides, you need all the rest you could get. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“But you wouldn’t—”

“I really need to go. Peter is waiting for me,” She cuts in “Good night, James.”

She glances at Remus and Sirius for a brief moment. Staring at them for too long would make all the dam she’s trying to uphold break lose and the last thing she’d want to do tonight would be to cry in front of James. No, she would not give him that satisfaction. It is one thing to deny and avoid all of her questions and another to actually dismiss her presence. Perhaps it's time for her to accept that the heart James wears on his sleeve was never hers to begin with.

As she walks out of the infirmary for the second time tonight, she could hear Sirius’ curse faintly, “You’ve lost her for good now, Prongs.”

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & SLAPPING THEIR ASS .

characters. xiao zhongli kaeya diluc childe alhaitham kaveh x reader genre. romantic fluff / suggestive an. feeling a little goofy a little silly today!!! please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

albeit disgruntled at first ngl

he’s like ???????what. why. huh. what

also has a blush on his face bc you touched his ass

(please do that to him again) (it's funny)

zhongli

doesn’t comment on it until you do it the second time

tries to do it on you. it fails bc you start giggling

“was it supposed to be funny?”

tries to ask you not to do it again but ofc you do bc ur such a silly goose y/n!!!

kaeya

slaps ur cheeks back without hesitation

he just (does a 180) SLAP

ngl it was funnier in my head. he slaps hard though smacks forehead

kisses you after as a way of apologising bc of the bruise..

diluc

kind of goes wtf y/n in his head

doesn't slap you back. start grovelling for it

smack him one more time maybe that would do the trick

(it doesn't, crepus raised him to be a gentleman)

childe

dirty dirty y/n not in front of his siblings please!!!

(i think he would like it ngl. he finds it hot)

slaysies!!!!! slaps u back and laughs

but he hits so hard. like its not funny. pain and suffering. kiss it better

al-haitham

he's the personification of the loading emoji

15% .... 40% .... 60% ... error 404. request timed out

please don't smack him i don't actually think he'd take it nicely

yes, even if his booty do the jiggles

(its so funny so you can try though)

kaveh

slaps your ass back harder, doesn't feel sorry for it

even if you whine in pain.

comical, maniacal laughing as he spins around in a black chair for comedic villain purposes

slap him back please. do not feel sorry for it because he certainly will not

a/n: idk why i wrote this. sorry yall

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @his-kikufuku @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiy @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @lemonswriting @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @yzeniko @starz222 (send ask to be added to taglist)

[ghcstao3]

that one slower scene in every superhero movie when the good guys take a beating from the villain and need to regroup, so one of the members of the team is like 'i know a place'.

so, nik gets some coordinates from soap and flies them to a countryside in scotland where mrs mactavish greets them on the front porch of a lovely house and immediately threats them with an ass whooping if they don't take their muddy combat boots off before going inside.

momma mactavish seems completely unafazed by a helicopter in her backyard, doesn't ask any questions, treats them all like a family. she's tiny and a little scary, makes them eat their vegetables and treats them to a delicious dessert. she can't stop kissing johnny's head and roast him for his mohawk.

ghost notices how relaxed and happy johnny is and how domesticity suits him. he would like to see it more often. for the first time in his life he is reluctant to come back to work.

immediately pictured the avengers at hawkeye’s house

-

Usually when someone on their team says I know a place when they find themselves in a bout of trouble, they don’t usually mean their childhood home.

Usually, I know a place means a warehouse, a run-down safe house, or, God forbid, some cave. And yet instead, here they all exist idly in Soap’s mum’s house while she coddles them in between scolding her son like it’s just another normal day for her. Like they aren’t all hardened soldiers standing in her home, each with innumerable kill counts and severely blacked-out personnel files.

It’s… weird, being crowded into a dining room and served a home-cooked meal despite coming unannounced and uninvited. That isn’t to say they’re not all thankful, having surely used up the last of Mrs. MacTavish’s gauze and bandages to get to this point, but it’s just—not at all what any of the team had been expecting.

Soap’s about the only one who seems unperturbed. Price is still rubbing his wrist from when Mrs. MacTavish smacked him for his insistence on helping with supper.

You’re guests, she had said, sounding positively aghast. What kind of host do you take me for?

Ghost can certainly see where Soap had gotten his fiery nature, as he bickers back and forth with his mother while the rest of them eat quietly, tentatively, like they’re not sure they’re allowed to. They may not share much in looks, but it’s no doubt that Soap is his mother’s son.

By the time dessert rolls around—which is yet another surprise—Mrs. MacTavish has finally been directing conversation to the soldiers sat around her table, asking about work and life as if they aren’t all bruised and scarred and about half-dead from an awful fight. Yet they all find themselves discussing what’s asked of them like it’s no more than the weather.

Something about Mrs. MacTavish’s spirit instills a sense of familiarity, homeliness. Ghost understands why Soap thought to bring them all there.

Ultimately it’s Gaz who charms Soap’s mum away to the living room along with Price and Nik that lets Ghost, at the very least, get away with helping with dishes once everything is said and done. Unfortunately for Soap, he’s never offered the choice.

“Good thing you have goin’ on here, Johnny,” Ghost eventually remarks, once they’re finally in the swing of wash, dry, wash, dry. “Not afraid of anything getting traced back here? To her?”

Soap shakes his head as he scrubs at a particularly tough stain. “Nah. It’s no’ on any of my records. Hell, it’s barely on any records. We’re off grid, LT, no need to worry your pretty head.”

Ghost rolls his eyes. He wipes off the plate that’s handed to him before setting it on the drying rack, and tossing his towel over his shoulder. It’s not until Soap’s trying to hand him something else does he take notice of Ghost’s pause.

Slowly, Soap sets the dish back in the water, frowning up at Ghost. “What?”

“…Nothin’,” Ghost says after much too long. He huffs. “Just… nice seeing what home looks like on you.”

Ghost doesn’t allow himself to linger watching Soap’s expression change from confusion to a near softness, instead making a reach for the discarded dish in the murky, soapy water to kick their routine back in gear.

He doesn’t want to think about it too closely. Doesn’t want to think about the things he’s realizing about himself this evening, or the fleeting thought that maybe he’d like to stay here forever, instead of return to the field where death waits openly at every turn.

It’s still appreciated, though, this moment of tranquility. He’ll have to make sure to thank Mrs. MacTavish when he gets the chance.

[mango-sp1ce]

Dan wipes down the bar as the other bartenders chat behind him. It’s all fleeting conversation, nothing of real note as they clean up and get ready to leave.

Unlike them, Dan just got in for his shift. The graveyard shift, how fitting. Not being one for small talk, he gives a simple grunt as a goodbye when the other workers leave, not even turning his head.

The moment the door clicks shut behind them, he brings his hand under the bar and flicks on the switches. Lights, sound, the whole shebang. His sensitive ears easily pick up on the sound of the door locking, and a different door on a different wall unlocking.

And then he sits, and he waits.

———

The first hour is quiet. A few goons, a few lesser villains. Condiment King is… an entire issue within himself, but even he didn’t pick much of a fight tonight. If anything, the bar just received its most recent restocking of condiments, courtesy of the king.

Washing a few stray dishes in his free time, Dan glances up when the door opens again and a fresh chill finds its way inside. He rolls his eyes as the villain sits down, before letting his core thrum to action and coil the frost back out the door. The man can keep his little aura, but leave your jacket at the door please. Common courtesy.

He makes momentary eye contact before making the drink without instruction or a word said. Seems frosty isn’t here tonight for small talk. Good.

Right as he slides the drink over, the door opens again to another high end villainous celebrity. The Riddler makes his way in, looking a little worse for wear. He take a close seat and does a little hand motion that only takes Dan a minute to decipher.

When he slides his drink over, the man smiles and laughs. “Got it in one! One of these days I’ll stump ya!” Maybe. It is completely possible. Dans only been recognizing the gestures from different books and video guides he’s been watching.

The two big shot villains get to talking and Dan proceeds to do what he likes the most about this job. The chaotic neutral action of… simply ignoring them. He turns and takes note of inventory instead as they plan whatever it is that they’ve planned.

And then the haunting (not to Dan, but certainly to the people of Gotham) sound of a clown car echoes down the street outside. He’s sure it isn’t an actual clown car, but he’s never really stepped outside to look.

The two men at the bar look at each other before sliding to sit further down. Within minutes of their decision, the main man himself makes his way in.

Dans already got his drink ready before he even sits. But yet again as always, the man chooses to sit right in front of wherever Dans standing at the moment.

“So, bartender, what’s it today?” The madman cackles out, taking the drink and swirling the little umbrella Dan had plopped on top. The umbrella didn’t belong there at all really, but Dan had noticed the way the man favored the little item whenever he got it and figured he may as well put one every time.

“Shocked. Chilled.” Dan responds with a nod towards the drink. The joker makes a thrilled little sound before taking a sip and knocking his head back in a laugh.

It’s not as if the words he just said have any actual meaning. At least, not what they might’ve had before. Jokers got his own thing going on, his own mixes and substances and who knows what else he puts in his drinks. Dan wouldn’t be surprised if the little “surprise” packs the Joker’s goons supplied the bar with were just joker gas in water dissolving form.

“That’s certainly got a spark!” He yells, his eyes as wide as ever. Dan doesn’t say anything, after all; everyone who comes here knows how he feels about small talk.

“So, Danny-boy, I’ve got an offer that you certainly can’t refuse!” The man chuckles, sipping his drink and playing idly with the small umbrella. Dan rolls his eyes.

“Don’t call me that. And shoot.”

“Woah now- I haven’t even loaded my gun!” He jokes. Dan just stares blankly until the man continues. “Always such the party pooper. So Casper, I’ve got a guy who needs a little… break. The usual really, but I want you to do this one with pizazz! How do ya like sequins?”

Dan blinks at him. Once. Twice. And then he dumps a cup of ice onto the man. The man cackles and cackles, like a wheezing hyena, before straightening out.

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”

[annes-andromeda]

Wish Rewrite

I have this tendency for rewriting material I either don’t like or think had wasted potential. At the time of writing this, Wish hasn’t come out in theaters but I did pirate it as there was an early screening. I also read the junior novelization and bought the concept art book. Needless to say, I was disappointed by what I read/saw.

I feel like Wish could’ve been better. Granted, the story and characters are not terrible, but they certainly leave much to be desired. This is literally Disney’s 100th anniversary, yet it doesn’t really feel like it. Not only that, but the movie felt incredibly rushed. Yeah I know that most Disney movies try have a run time of 90-100+ minutes, but I think a few more minutes could’ve been added to this film.

So, I decided to indulge myself and outline some changes that I think could’ve made the story slightly better. These ideas are by no means perfect, and in the end, this is all in good fun.

Spoilers ahead btw

The main story of Wish is essentially that Asha wants to get a job as Magnifico’s apprentice so that her grandfather’s wish is granted. But Asha finds out about the King’s true nature, and after questioning him, doesn’t get the job, and Magnifico vows to never grant Sabino or Sakina’s wishes.

Asha makes a wish on a star, and the star comes down, Magnifico tries to hunt down the two of them, he uses an evil spell book to create a staff, Magnifico destroys some wishes, Asha gets help from her friends, they sing a song to defeat Magnifico (I ‘wish’ i was joking), Star gives Asha a magic wand, and all is well.

Oh, and Amaya is… there.

It’s nothing complex, pretty cut and dry. And I don’t have a problem with a simple story! But this feels like it’s… missing something.

Firstly, I’d change the title. Disney already has a boat called Wish, and not every movie needs to be one word like Tangled, Frozen, and Brave (amongst others), so the story could be renamed “Asha and the Wishing Star” or “Asha and the Kingdom of Wishes”. Idk, something that evokes a classic fairytale book feel (or that does confuse people with a boat).

((Side note #1: I honestly enjoy that the story started off with a book, as a nod to classic disney movies, especially Snow White. That was cute))

Secondly, and I know I sound like a broken record at this point…

AMAYA👏🏼SHOULDVE👏🏼BEEN👏🏼A👏🏼VILLAIN👏🏼ALONGSIDE👏🏼HER👏🏼HUSBAND👏🏼

The original plan, according to the concept art book, was to have Magnifico and Amaya to be a villain couple who were partners in crime and owned a black sphinx cat named Charo. However for… reasons, the creators took the ‘safe’ route and made Amaya the good one out of the two.

But the problem is, by erasing Amaya’s evilness, the creators of Wish essentially removed any purpose or personality she may have had and thus, she was left to become a literal ‘supporting’ character. First supporting both Magnifico and Asha, then leaving Magnifico to prop up solely Asha.

Deadass, you can literally remove Amaya from the story and nothing would change. Which is probably why she was exempt from much of the promotional stuff minus the dolls. Because she literally serves no purpose but to be… there.

So, in my version of Wish, Amaya would be a co-conspirator to her husband and yes, I’m adding Charo too. Her personality would be inspired by classic female villains such as the Evil Queen from Snow White, Lady Tremaine from Cinderella, and Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty.

Vain, glamorous, cunning, and unabashedly evil, Amaya would be the Morticia to Magnifico’s Gomez, the brains to his brawn. She’s the girlboss, he’s the wife instigator. Magnifico spoils Amaya rotten with countless gifts and praises, whilst Amaya is the more calm and collected evil compared to her husband’s ever-growing temper.

While she starts the story with no magic, Magnifico just can’t leave his wife hanging and shares the power of the evil spell-book with Amaya. And yes, even Charo gets in on the fun, turning from a small house cat, to a massive shape-shifting beast who breaths blue fire similarly to a dragon (shut up i think it’d be cool)

Magnifico and Amaya essentially keep the wishes of Rosas locked in the castle as a form of obedience. By giving the citizens false hope, it makes them more dependent on the royal couple, and the two have more power over everyone.

Anyways, let’s get to the main characters: Asha and Star.

I don’t have much of an issue with Asha’s character, more so her design. I already made a post showing my redesign of her, so that’s out of the way. Tbh tho, I also have an issue with the rest of the costume design of Wish, being a big costume nerd myself. The movie’s supposed to take inspiration from the Mediterranean, primarily places such as Spain and Morocco (and the Amazigh people for Asha), but the fashion feels like generic European medieval fashion.

I feel like the whole storyline of Asha’s interview with Magnifico was pretty pointless, so I would have it that she just starts off as the kings apprentice, whilst also working as Amaya’s scullery maid.

The couple took Asha in when the girl lost her father at the age of 12 (according to the film), and she’s been working for them for five years. Asha works not only to support herself, her family, and her community, but also as a way to distract from the grief of losing her father. Which is no issue, as Amaya always bombards the girl with chores, and Magnifico only teaches Asha the most basic of magic for fear of her growing more powerful than him.

I made Asha work as a scullery maid not only as a reference to princesses such as Snow White and Cinderella starting off their respective stories as maids, but also because scullery maids acted as assistants to the kitchen maids. Dahlia works in the kitchen, Asha and Dahlia are best friends, I figured it made sense.

But anyways, on the day of Sabino’s 100th birthday, Sakina tells Asha to take a break and return home, as she hardly visits anymore due to work. Asha says she’ll try asking the king and queen to get off early, but that she can’t make any promises.

Asha meets with Magnifico and asks for the day off, but the king refuses. However, wanting to keep her loyalty, Magnifico finally shows Asha the wish chamber, and even allows her to witness the wish ceremony that night. But once Asha starts questioning the king on his methods, any goodwill between them begins to fade.

Another thing I’m disappointed in, is that originally Star was going to be a shapeshifting humanoid inspired by the Genie and Peter Pan, and may have even had a romance with Asha. But, the idea was scrapped for the more cutesy, ‘marketable’, version of Star.

In my retelling, I’d choose to do this human shapeshifter version of Star, but I’d name him something else. The star Earendel was mentioned in the concept art book, which is the farthest known star from Earth and not only means ‘morning star’ in Old English, but is also named after the Tolkien character, Eärendil.

I would call this shapeshifter Star Earen, and because Disney loves their animal/cute sidekicks, Earen can have the ‘Kirby’ Star as a companion, just like how Asha has Valentino and Magnifico and Amaya have Charo.

((Side #2: Anybody else notice that Star lowkey looks and sounds like Kirby😶))

Earen and Star journey down to Rosas once they hear Asha’s pleas for guidance. Once Asha tells of Magnifico and Amaya’s lies, Earen reveals that he actually met Magnifico decades ago. The amount of years shocks Asha, as she realizes that the King and Queen might be far older than what they are.

((Side note #3: I didn’t realize this till someone mentioned it, but if Sabino is 100 and he gave Magnifico his wish at 18, then he’s been waiting 82 years for his wish to be granted. Which means it’s likely that Magnifico might be immortal. That, or Disney didn’t think this shit through (most likely)))

Anyways, Earen actually attempted to stop Magnifico and Amaya’s ploy to keep the wishes of Rosas locked away, but he was sealed within the heavens until he and Star heard Asha make her wish.

We can have it that the king and queen spun the story so that Earen was made out to be an evil that once threatened Rosas, but Magnifico banished him and saved everyone, essentially making himself out to be the good guy and manipulating the narrative.

Asha and Earen must now work together to expose the lies of the royal couple, and along the way, the two begin to fall in love. Earen disguises himself as a peasant boy so as to remain inconspicuous, while Asha tries to go about her job as if nothing happened, evading the King and Queen’s suspicions.

Star gives Asha a stick infused with stardust once finding out she is, quite literally, the sorcerers apprentice. It is also so that she may defend herself, as Earen has his powers and a sword (similarly to Peter Pan).

Unlike Magnifico, Earen and Star teach Asha the wonders of magic and the potential she wields, showing that there is no need for her to hold back when her gift can help so many, including those she loves.

The three manage to sneak into the kings study, but only have time to retrieve Sabino’s wish and return it to him. However, Magnifico and Amaya, now strengthened by the powers of dark magic, find Asha and Earen and threaten to destroy all the wishes should Earen not surrender to them.

And as a way to ensure that Asha doesn’t foil their plans, Magnifico destroys both Asha and Sakina’s wishes, despite Asha not being eighteen yet. However, the evil magic allows him to do so. This act weakens the two women, and infuriates Earen.

Earen then willingly complies despite Asha’s opposition, and Sabino takes Asha and Sabina to the seven (well six) teens for aid, who are in hiding after Simon ratted them out and who now serves as a puppet to the king and queen.

Despite loosing her wish, Asha finds the strength to carry on through the memory of her late father, enlisting the help of her friends and Star, who managed to evade the royal couple’s grasp. The team must work together to save Earen, whose power will be drained by Magnifico and Amaya. And if such a feat were to happen, then Earen would die and Rosas would be lost.

The five teens go into the woods to distract one of the royals, with the aid of the forest fauna and Star. Amaya chases the group alongside Charo while Magnifico tortures Earen and begins stealing his power. With the help of Dahlia, Asha sneaks into the castle to confront her former mentor and save Earen before it’s too late.

At first, it seems that the heroes have the upper hand with Magnifico neutralized, but then, Amaya swoops in riding Charo, who now takes the form of a giant dragon. Earen transforms into a dragon himself and battles Charo and Amaya, while Asha continues battling Magnifico. Star even comes to help after the original plan fails.

However, the unholy trio have the upper hand, and Amaya strikes down Earen, giving Magnifico enough time to not only drain Earen’s power, but to trap Star within his staff. With their combined powers, Magnifico and Amaya gather all of the peoples wishes, even stealing the wishes of those not yet of age, which includes the teens.

With all the wishes gathered, the couple and their pet destroy all the wishes, taking their energy for themselves.

Asha falls into despair as she watched her friends, love ones, and community succumb to the grief of loosing their wishes. The king and queen force Asha to apologize to the people, mocking her and making her feel even more guilty.

However, Earen comforts Asha despite his weak state, telling her it’s alright and that she shouldn’t be ashamed of wishing on Star, as he brought the two of them together. The two kiss, the strength of their newfound love and hope shining through the darkness and inspiring the people of Rosas to rise up.

As the sky and stars become alive, Magnifico’s staff is destroyed, releasing Star in the process. All the evil magic he, Amaya, and Charo used is sucked out of them and vanquished, and Earen is restored to full vitality.

Think of this as the transformation scene from Princess and the Frog. Asha and Earen get new outfits, with Asha even gaining a crown and a new wand from Star.

((Side Note #4: The “transformation” in the finale of the film is so stupid. Asha could’ve literally gotten a new dress once she becomes a fairy godmother, but instead, Star just made her sparkly. How magical🙄))

Rosas rejoices, as they realize they don’t need the king to make their wishes come true, and they can pursue them themselves. With Magnífico and Amaya banished from Rosas, Asha and Earen become the new rulers, being names Prince and Princess respectively.

And that’s basically how I would’ve done Wish. It’s not perfect, but it’s just an idea. I’m just disappointed that Disney do something better for their 100th anniversary.

[mochiwrites]

late night visitor.

in which grian gets a visit from the city’s popular hero, hotguy.

reblogs > likes

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There’s a tapping sound at Grian’s window. He straightens up from where he’s hunched over at his desk, papers from the library waiting to be sorted and marked. The pen he has in his hand is set down as he turns around in his chair, angling himself toward the window. Soft brown eyes flick toward the glass, and his lips curl in a slight cringe.

Standing behind Grian’s window, right on his balcony, is none other than the city’s top hero, Hotguy. Irritation and confusion sparks within him as he sees the orange and teal clad man, arrowhead insignia proudly displayed on his chest. His sleeves are short, leaving the muscles of his biceps exposed. Fingerless gloves sit on his hands, bow and quiver on his back. An orange and teal mask covers his face, letting Grian see no more than his green eyes. His brown hair is dark in the cover of night, a small ponytail at the base of his head. A pleased smirk sits on his face, a signature look.

Grian feels his eyebrow twitch.

He pushes himself up from his chair, taking a few measured steps over to the hero. Hotguy’s smirk widens as Grian moves closer, until he’s right in front of the window. The glass slides up, and Grian lifts a brow, “Don’t you have more important things to do than haggling civilians, Hotguy?”

“Gaggling? I’d never do such a thing!” Hotguy retorts, a playful lilt to his words as he smiles down at Grian. “I’ve only come by to see my favorite civilian!”

“Pretty sure you still have better things to do. Like patrolling?” Grian offers, stepping back. His words don’t seem to bother Hotguy as he climbs into Grian’s apartment through the window.

The breeze from the wind follows him in, adding a slight chill to the room. Hotguy straightens as both feet land on the floor, taking a look around the place as if he hasn’t seen it before. “Not to worry, Grian. I’ve already finished patrolling for the night!” he says proudly, moving to set his bow down on the table nearby. “Besides, whatever I don’t catch, I’m sure Cuteguy will.”

It’s a statement Grian would put faith in, if he wasn’t the aforementioned hero. Maybe he can find a bit of appreciation in how much Hotguy seems to trust him, even now. There’s a small smile that seems to pull at his lips as he shakes his head.

He’s honestly not sure how he’s ended in this position, with his hero partner dropping by his apartment on occasion. Hotguy only found out where he lived because of a villain attack once. It had been way too risky to try anything that may give his Cuteguy identity away, so he had let Hotguy rescue him and get him safely home (the guy may irritate Grian sometimes, but he still owes him a lot).

From there Hotguy would come by once in a while, performing ‘check ups’ as he liked to call them. Grian thinks they’re just excuses to slack off. Hotguy vehemently denies it of course.

It’s something he’s gotten used to after a few months of this happening, even if it makes him nervous. He doesn’t want Hotguy finding out his identity, nor does he want to know Hotguy’s.

Because he’s a liability. Who knows what could happen if he ever found out and it was used against him. Or…

He still owes Hotguy so much.

So far it’s seemed okay. It isn’t like there’s much connecting Grian to Cuteguy in his apartment. Hotguy certainly hasn’t put anything together, which he can breathe a sigh of relief at.

“Ooooo, what’s all this?” Hotguy’s voice breaks him from his thoughts, causing Grian to angle his head toward him from where he had been staring off. The hero has migrated over to his desk, peering down at the papers. He picks one up, “Up late organizing papers again, huh?”

Grian shrugs in response, “Sacrifices have to be made now and then.” He then frowns as he watches the hero turn a page toward him, reading it. “Hey, put that down will you?”

“Ooooo, town history! How fun,” Hotguy hums as he sets the paper back down on the desk. He turns back to look at Grian with a charming smile. “Though there’s definitely better ways to spend your evening, G.”

“Good thing you’re not me then,” Grian snorts, shaking his head. “I happen to quite enjoy staying indoors and organizing papers. I much prefer it over dealing with pesky heroes,” he deadpans. He doesn’t, but Hotguy doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh, Grian, you wound me!” Hotguy cries playfully, setting a hand on his chest. “I bet I could make your evening ten times more amayzin’!”

The image that conjures is one that causes Grian to shudder. He can totally see Hotguy sitting with him in his apartment, talking his ear off about how cool of a hero he is He grimaces, “Somehow I doubt you’d make improve my evening. Actually, I think you—”

Grian takes a step toward him, only for the bow sitting on his table to catch his eye. He stills, words turning to dust on his tongue as he stares at the weapon. He’s seen it plenty of times in battle before, watched Hotguy shoot three glowing arrows at once with terrifying precision without even flinching. But he’s never seen it up close.

Walking over to the table, Grian sets a hand over it, humming quietly as the previous conversation is forgotten. “Weird to see you without this thing,” he idly comments. He traces over the edge of the bow with a finger, feeling the hard material under his touch.

“Ah, Grian, you really shouldn’t—” Hotguy tries to say, but Grian is already grabbing it. He turns and points the end right at the hero with a mischievous smile.

“What, afraid I’m gonna poke my own eye out or something?” he teases, shaking his head. Like he’d be careless enough to do something like that.

Hotguy walks over to him, frowning slightly. “Careful where you point that thing! That’s a weapon you’re holding.”

“I know what a bow is, Hotguy,” Grian huffs lightly in return. “I’m just looking at it. I’ve never seen it up close before.” His gaze returns to the bow, a curious hum reverberating in his chest.

“Well of course you haven’t,” Hotguy chuckles quietly. The frown lifts from his face, lips going lax as he stands in front of Grian. “I usually don’t let anyone other than my technician handle it. But I guess I can make an exception for my favorite civilian. As long as you’re not shootin’ any real arrows.”

“How kind of you.” Grian’s eyes trace the details of the bow, a bit of awe in his expression. It’s not light by any means, Grian has to hold it with both hands. How the hell does Hotguy shoot with it? He knew the guy was strong, but this is something else. The bowstring is black and hard to pull back, Grian finds, as he experimentally tugs on it. The bow itself matches Hotguy’s aesthetic well, with the top half being teal and the bottom orange. On its own it’s nothing special, just some heavy bow. But its user makes all the difference.

He glances over at Hotguy with a hint of curiosity, “How do you handle this thing, anyway?” It might be helpful to know for the future, should anything happen and Cuteguy needs to make a quick shot. He’s no Hotguy when it comes to precision, but he can certainly try.

Hotguy doesn’t answer immediately, instead gazing at Grian through his mask. His eyes are soft, contemplative as he thinks over his response. Grian waits, gaze drawn to the bow in his hands instead of the hero in front of him.

“Well,” Hotguy begins after a moment, moving in, “firstly, your position is all off.” He slides up behind Grian, causing the shorter to stiffen. A hand falls over his, the one holding the bow, and it’s raised. “Angle your feet ninety degrees, and keep them shoulder length apart.” He gently nudges Grian’s right foot with his boot, encouraging him to fix his position. “Good, just like that.”

Hearing Hotguy so close to his ear sends chills down Grian’s spine, little pinpricks that tingle right down to his lower back. He can feel the hero’s breath against his neck, and Grian finds his face feeling warm. Why is he suddenly so embarrassed?

With gentle fingers, Hotguy lifts Grian’s arm, pointing the bow at nothing. “You’ll want to keep your arm straight. I’d normally load an arrow at this point, but I think it’s in our best interest to keep those away from you,” he chuckles, and the sound is smooth like velvet, low and deep. Grian shudders. Hotguy speaks quietly, like being any louder would send Grian scampering away as if he were a startled rabbit.

Hotguy keeps his grip on Grian’s raised arm with one hand, the other sliding around to his front. Gentle but sturdy fingers settle over Grian’s stomach, setting a light pressure against his abdomen. His hands are warm against Grian, he can feel his heart stuttering in his chest. It’s hard for him to concentrate with the hero so close.

“Don’t trust me with an arrow?” Grian can’t help but ask, his voice surprisingly just as quiet as Hotguy’s.

He feels the way Hotguy’s chest rumbles from his laughter with how Grian’s practically pressing against him.

His cheeks feel really warm.

Movement from the corner of his eye has him shifting his gaze to lock eyes with the hero. He sees a soft gleam in them, something that seems to go past the kind of look a hero may direct at a civilian. It’s softness is reflected in the depth of Hotguy’s eyes, all forest-like green and bright with color. The green seems lighter like this, smoother.

Grian wonders what his face would like if the mask wasn’t there. Would the softness sit on his expression? Would it still be so open, like Hotguy’s heart on his sleeve, if there were no make to shield it? Would he let Grian see it? If Grian asked would—

He quickly shakes himself out of those thoughts, horrified. Where did they come from?!

“I want to be careful with you,” Hotguy finally murmurs to him, and god that is not helping with Grian’s embarrassing thoughts! “Giving you high tech hero equipment you don’t know how to use kind of goes against that, Gri.”

Gri.

Gri?!

What the hell is happening right now?!

Some sort of noise punches its way out of Grian as he stares at Hotguy, struggling for some sort of response. Normally he’d reply with snark, some kind of sarcastic remark. But right now he’s coming up empty, unable to move away from the fact that Hotguy is holding him and he doesn’t want him to let go. God what’s wrong with him all of the sudden?

Hotguy’s eyes seem to widen at the noise Grian makes, and just like that the warmth is gone. “Oh gosh! I was totally just all up in your grill there!” he exclaims, stepping back. He seamlessly takes the bow from Grian’s hands as he moves away, leaving Grian’s back rather chilly. His face is red, if not more red than Grian’s is. The two of them are trapped in some sort of staring contest with each other, individual thoughts racing.

Neither speak.

“W-Well uh, that’s how you use the Hotguy bow! P-Pretty neat huh?” Hotguy says after a moment, chuckling nervously. Something on his wrist beeps, and he glances down at it.

Grian breaks out of his stupor then, watching Hotguy move. “Something wrong?” he asks, finally finding his words.

“Nothing to worry about. Just duty calling.” Hotguy looks back up at him, cheeks still warm with a nervous smile. “I’ll have to cut this one short! We’ll save the archery lesson for another time!” He gives Grian a salute before heading back out the way he came.

Alone in his apartment, Grian stands. His heart is still pounding, staring at where the city’s hero stood not even a few seconds ago. Wordlessly, he falls back in a chair, still staring off.

Maybe he should’ve been called Whirlwind instead.

[nonpracticinghumanbeing]

Izzy IS about community. He’s ALWAYS BEEN about community in his own messed up way. The Canyon was right and the haters were wrong.

He wanted Blackbeard back because that was what kept the crew safe. He was terrible about it and hurt the man he obviously loves in the process, but it WAS for the greater good. It wasn’t a purely selfish act the antis love to frame it as. He wanted to feel safe again and he wanted the crew to be safe as well.

Hell, he was doing his best to help Edward through his post-breakup depression. He didn’t understand what was going on and was clearly distressed by it but he provided what Ed needed. He *knew* he lacked the emotional capacity to help his captain himself so he agreed to bring him Lucius. I really think he would have just gritted his teeth and suffered through it if Ed didn’t say the one thing that could collapse his whole world.

"Why do we even bother being pirates?" That was what freaked Izzy out so much that he pushed Edward to violence. Not because he selfishly wanted Ed to be close at all times but because Blackbeard the legend was the pillar of his community. That legend kept everyone safe and even if Izzy is a horrible asshole, he *does* care about his crew. He knows the world is a horrible hostile place and he focuses on risk mitigation, even if it means hurting the one person he really cares about.

He really tried to provide that to the crew when Edward and Stede took the Act of Grace. It was a terribly misguided attempt at keeping things under control and it was certainly influenced by his submissive tendencies which make him crave structure and feel safe within hierarchies. He *knows* he lacks Ed's charisma and ability to think outside the box and with such huge shoes to fill it's not really surprising he acted out in anger and in result failed miserably. But he was *NEVER* an asshole just for the sake of it.

Now he realizes those days are gone for good. He's already done everything he could to bring Ed back to his senses, including using *Stede fuckin' Bonnet’s* name. It didn’t work. The realization that his one true safeguard is really gone must be terrible, but it also pushes him to take action.

The moment he realizes the crew are in real danger, he takes things into his own hands. He not only goes against the hierarchy he believed to be sacred but also against the man he *LOVES*. He fucking shoots his beloved captain to save the crew. You don’t get much more *community* than that.

He is clearly struggling. He's just tried to fucking kill himself after being maimed AND told he was disposable by a man whom he's apparently served for dacades. He will have to reevaluate his whole life and he *knows* it. But he puts it all to the side and he does what needs to be done. He took all of Edward’s abuse without complaint it seems but the moment the crew are in real danger, he intervenes. You can’t tell me a community (*any* community) doesn’t need people like that.

It all feels very old-time queer to me. The willingness to make terrible sacrifices to protect one's space. The decision (conscious or not) to be effective rather than liked. The choice to stay alive despite terrible heartbreak and go on fighting.

He's absolutely NOT an irredimable villain. He’s an asshole who tries to keep his little world safe. He’s Larry Kramer getting kicked out of GMHC for being too confrontational and politically incorrect to be palatable to the general public.

[huiyi07]

GENSHIN MANGA SPOILERS! but honestly if you haven’t read it by now it’s your fault alone

So why did Kaeya initially try to hurt Collei?

The obvious answer- he was trying to defend Mondstadt, Collei was a very suspicious figure at the time, and he knew that being aggressive towards her would probably draw out her hidden powers and reveal herself as the culprit of the Black Fire incident.

But there’s more to it than that.

Kaeya canonically loves, LOVES kids. He adores them- there’s lots of times in the game where he talks about how precious childhood is and how he wants to protect the purity of childhood dreams for as long as possible before kids have to grow up and face the real world (kinda similar to Childe). In 3.8, it shows how he is literally willing to do anything to protect a child- Klee, when he literally throws aside his own sibling issues in order to shield Klee from being exposed to the same thing and scolds a couple of bickering brothers for upsetting her.

Additionally, there’s his whole thing with Mika and how he’s basically a big brother figure to the entirety of Mondstadt’s population under 17. The highly implied bond between Bennett, Razor, Fischl and him, even.

Anyway this whole aspect of his character obviously stems from his own childhood and how tainted it was by his hidden identity, so like he probably doesn’t want any other kids to have to go through such hardship especially while they’re still young.

So if he loves kids so much, and wants to protect them so badly, why did he not hesitate to become a full blown villain against Collei, literally wounding an innocent 12-year old girl?

Because he sees himself in her.

Collei hates herself (or at least she used to LOL). She hates the burden (her powers) that was forced upon her from a young age, and those powers inevitably label her as a bad person, one who can harness evil powers to kill And hurt and whatever. It makes her feel like she has no real control over herself, and that she has no self-identity- she doesn’t think of herself as a regular person, instead a monster. And she hates, hates, hates herself for it, but she shoves all of it down under a mask.

Sound familiar to a certain cavalry captain?

That’s why Kaeya didnt hesitate to Go after her. He knows her too well, knows that she’s hiding her true identity under a well-crafted face, that there’s something evil and dark in her- because that’s exactly who he was as a kid.

But then this panel happens.

Collei, evidently so tired of living such a torn life, gives up and offers her life to Kaeya just so that the torment can end, which stops Kaeya in his tracks, because that’s when she reminds him off himself just a little too much.

Kaeya, so caught up in her uncontrollable evil, forgets that she’s just a child, one who never should’ve been forced to deal with such a thing, and certainly not want to die because of it.

That’s exactly what happens internally to him, as well. Over the years, Kaeya internalized being a traitor so much, that often he convinces himself that he’s truly not a good person. Yes, he acknowledges that it’s really not his fault, but that still gets lost and it shows through when Kaeya shows us how willing he is to get himself harmed- because of his self hatred, he places so little value in his own wellbeing and his own life, because he thinks that all harm that comes to him is deserved and that it’s better off if he’s dead anyway so that he doesn’t have to deal with being torn apart every day.

No I’m not making this up, it’s in how he literally covers for Diluc all the time and risks himself in the process, and how Adelinde told us about that one time Kaeya literally took Diluc’s punishment for himself when they snuck into the wine cellars. There’s lots of times, even throughout in the game where Kaeya tries to convince us he’s not a good person- he quite literally says that, at some point.

Only when Collei shows that she’s in the exact same position does Kaeya realize what he’s doing and stops himself. Only then does he remember how painful and hard it really is, and he ends up helping to save Collei and removing her powers, because that’s one burden he can help take off, unlike his own.

Idk man for me the Kaeya vs Collei fight (I like to call it the chapter where collei gave us the hottest panel of Kaeya choking ever) told a story about Kaeya’s internalizations, too, and his own-self hatred and how deep it really goes. BRB CRYING

[kingtomura]

vitality | 1

Summary: You were always told heroes and villains had no place in your home.  Not when there’s an increase in crime, not when there’s monsters on the loose in Hosu and certainly not when the man in your home raises a hand to you.  All it takes is one impulsive decision to change your life forever. content: shigaraki tomura x female reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, reader has a quirk, graphic depictions of violence, past abuse, past sa, angst, pstd, eventual smut, found family LoV, mdni wc: 3.1k | chapter 2 | m. list | read on ao3

It’s been raining all day.

The cold droplets make your cheeks feel numb as you run along the sidewalk. The sky is a murky gray and your lungs are burning in a desperate attempt to regain air in them. There is blood on your clothes and none of it belongs to you. 

You don't know how long you’ve been at this but you know you cannot stop. There would be consequences if you stopped.

Your body would have to give out first. 

You chance a glance behind you and see there is no chase, there are no sirens and no angry mob following you but your body keeps moving.

You decide to take a sharp right turn into an upcoming alley and use that moment to catch your breath. Your chest heaves as you desperately inhale. The rain has soaked you to the bone and you just know that you’ll have a stuffy nose in the morning. Adrenaline is what you assume is keeping you going at this point — with the rate of your heart beating you're sure it’ll beat right out of your chest and leave you here in this dingy alley alone.

Even through the patter of the rain you could hear the footsteps of multiple people shuffling your way. 

You’re sure they’ve found you. Damn it, you shouldn’t have stopped.

You look around the alley and run to the grimy dumpster further down, hiding behind it and willing yourself to calm your breathing. 

Closing your eyes, you place a cold hand over your own mouth, praying it will quiet your own ragged breaths.

“C’mon, guys, let's be reasonable.” It's the voice of a man and it is not familiar.

He seems to be stepping closer, slowly. You creep closer to the wall and hope the footsteps cease. 

They do.

“Reasonable would be having your head for the shit you pulled on us, Giran.” A different voice, hostile. You're starting to think these people have nothing to do with you.

The guy, Giran, sounds weary, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m always good on my word.”

There’s another voice piping up now, denying his words, insisting that they were scammed. Between the rain and the men talking over each other it feels impossible to understand. You decide it's best to just wait this out, you’re sure they will finish soon and you can go back to figuring out your next move.

“Bullshit!” Someone yells and it startles you, pulling your attention back to the scene unfolding behind you.

The sound of a gunshot rings through the alley and you jolt in surprise, reflexively covering your ears as your heart stops in your chest. What the fuck was happening right now. Whatever Giran was going to say doesn’t make it far.

“Oh shit,” one voice panicks, “what the fuck did you do, dude!”

“You said we would get him back!”

“Not kill him, you fucking idiot!”

Your nerves are on fire as you hear the pair run off, leaving Giran groaning in pain and bloody.

You move fast, rushing from your place behind the dumpster to the wounded man. Giran was slumped against a wall, hand clutching his abdomen and breathing heavily. You don’t know what's compelling you to do this, so you blame it on the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. No one deserves to die here.

“Hey!” You yell out, an attempt to get his attention and keep him from slipping into unconsciousness. His brows lifted as his eyes met yours and you’re just glad this stranger is still breathing. “Let me help you.”

He only looks at you and you’re sure he’s fighting with all he has to hang on. You’re probably a sight to see yourself — clothes drenched in a mixture of blood and rain and eyes wild with panic.

You reach for his hand covering the bloody wound and he only presses tighter.

“Trust me.” You plead, meeting his eyes in desperation before trying again. Giran nods, moving his own hand and allowing you a chance to see the injury for yourself — blood was everywhere and given the rain you had no clear view. You shoot him a pointed look once more before going for his shirt, lifting it and exposing his stomach and bloody wound. You could work with this. 

Your hands were freezing cold, but you willed yourself through it, bringing both to hover over his abdomen and focusing. Giran watched the soft green glow emit from your hands and wash over his wounded abdomen, his wound healing from the inside out. Raindrops drip from your hair and down your nose, yet you focus until the injury is gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. 

Giran sighed, resting his head on the brick wall behind him, muscles relaxing and breath stabilizing.

“You’re a healer.” He speaks, voice hoarse and winded.

You nod, bringing your hands back and looking at the grovel below, “yeah, something like that.”

A silence falls over the both of you, the rain continuing to seep its cold into your bones. It's almost time to face your reality again. Time to get up and move.

“What are you doing out here, kid?'' Giran speaks again, voice gaining more clarity as he stabilizes from the events before. 

What are you doing out here? Where even is here? You weren’t paying attention while you ran — there was only the urge to get away and get away as fast as you could. 

“I...” you look down at your clothes clinging to your form and drooping lower than they should due to the onslaught of rain. Not even the rain could wash away the blood staining the cotton material. Whatever may have gotten on your face could be washed away, but you’re unsure. “I don’t know.” You finish, chancing a glance at Giran. 

He looks to you before taking a moment to stand, finally gaining composure and taking a slow breath.  

You follow suit, ready to go the other way, never see this man you saved again. 

“I owe you one, kid,” Giran starts again, adjusting his glasses, and you begin to protest. He cuts you off, “Those crooks almost killed me. Really, at least let me get you someplace warm.” he insists and you stare for a moment, you were unsure of your next move anyway. 

You nod, “alright.”

—---------

Giran takes you to an underground bar. One where the lighting is low and there aren't many people around. You’ve never been to a bar before, but you’re sure this one had bad news written all over it.

Even so, you don't feel afraid. The bar had a bathroom where you could dry off better and there was even spare clothes in the lost and found. You were finally able to get the rain soaked clothes off and wipe away the red staining your face as well. It was miles better than what you had before. 

Now you were sat across from Giran as he lit his cigarette, taking a drag and exhaling it to the side. 

The harsh smell of nicotine flooded the area and you bit back the scrunch of your nose as you stuffed your face with chips from the bar. Once your adrenaline settled, the feeling of hunger was overwhelming. 

“So,” you're midbite when Giran speaks, breaking the silence, “what were you doing out there, kid?”

You force your food down and ponder your answer. There was no reason you shouldn’t trust Giran right now, but—

The splatter of blood crosses your mind, accompanied by a memory of glass breaking that makes you shiver and you decide that no, you couldn’t share this.

“I…” you can’t meet his eyes, “I got lost.”

Giran taps the ashes from his cigarette and sucks his teeth. “Lost, huh?” He raises a brow, “where are you from, then? You were covered in blood, and not all of that belonged to me, so what’s your deal – are you some kind of hero?”

You vehemently shake your head, “no, no. I’m not a hero.” You anxiously pick at the loose sem in the sweater, “I’m nobody. Not anymore.”

“You’re a healer, people would kill for a quirk like that.” He takes another drag, blowing the smoke and pointing to you, “what is it you were running from?”

There were tears welling in your eyes and you wished this conversation could be over. The reality of the situation setting in. “I hurt someone. Bad.”

“Can’t be that bad since you can heal ‘em, right?”

You’re quiet. Flashes of what occurred hours ago flooding your memory. It feels so far away. So foggy. “No. No, I didn’t heal them.” Your fists tighten in your lap. “I hurt them and then I left. I ran away and now I’ll never go back.”

Giran looks you over for a bit before tapping the excess ash from his cigarette. “Well, since you need somewhere to go and you have a pretty sick quirk, I think I have the perfect place for you.” 

—---------

The dark corridors Giran leads you through feel endless and you can’t help but wonder if he’s leading you into a trap of some kind. You thought the bar before was shady, but wherever the hell he was taking you seems to be much worse. 

There was no elaboration on where you were going, just an absent trust me and promises that you would be safe and taken care of here. Promises that no one would look for you or find you here. You sigh, out of options and desperate. He had no reason to lie to you, but it still gave you an uneasy feeling. 

“This guy,” Giran’s voice catches your attention, “Can seem like kind of a brat, but he’s good on his word.”

It’s as if he could feel your restless thoughts and you only purse your lips, glancing at him and then back forward, noting a large metal door coming into view. 

You can't fight the lump of dread in your stomach but you try to put on a brave face as the screech of the heavy metal door fills the corridor. It led to another bar — this one looking more… normal. Empty, quiet and even quaint. 

The only occupants being a shadow-like figure of a man, dark cloudy whisps covering his face and hands and another, younger man dressed in all black and sporting what looked like a pale blue hand covering his face like a mask.

“Giran,” the man spoke, voice raspy and sharp. He couldn’t have been much older than you, maybe younger. “What have you brought us today?”

The man in question smiled, gold tooth glimmering in the low light of the bar. “Something special.” 

You couldn’t see much of the man’s face beyond the hand, but you could see the glint of interest in his red eyes. 

“Is that so…” he turns his attention to you, “what’s your name?” 

His gaze gives you goosebumps and you turn to Giran, seeking some kind of reassurance, but the boy speaks again, “Don’t look at him. I’m the one talking to you.” 

It shakes you, but you snap your attention back to him and tell him your name. 

“And why are you here?” 

You don’t know. You have no idea why Giran brought you here and you don’t even know who this guy is. How could you hope to answer that with no information?

Giran steps in before you can make a retort, “she’s here because I think you could get a lot of use out of her, Shigaraki.”

 Shigaraki’s gaze never leaves yours. “Oh, yeah? What’s your quirk?”

You bite your lower lip, you didn’t expect this to be an interview of some kind. Shigaraki looks impatient, tapping a finger on the bar beside him. You swallow your nerves and speak, “My quirk is called Vitality – I can heal others and myself.”

“That’s a rare find, Giran, even for you.” Shigaraki crossed his arms, interest successfully piqued. 

Giran huffs a laugh, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag. “Yeah, well, she kind of found me.”

You steal a look at Giran, the smoke leaving his lips as he speaks. Shigaraki doesn’t say anything, his silence seemingly urging Giran to continue. “This one here saved my life yesterday. Some hothead shot me and she rushed in and healed me. I’m good as new.”

Shigaraki scoffs, tone sardonic and cruel, “Wow, how heroic of you.”

It feels like you’ve made the wrong choice, like the idea of saving someone was foolish and wrong. You acted on instinct — no one deserved to die there.

“So, what’s your deal, then? The heroes would kill to have you on their side. Why are you here?”

“I don’t care about the heroes,” it’s the truth, you want nothing to do with their flashy shows of power and silly displays of heroism. “I couldn’t care less for it.”

You see Shigaraki’s eyes narrow through the fingers of the hand on his face. “So you’re one of Stain’s followers, then?”

Who? You didn’t keep up with that kind of stuff. You vaguely remember seeing the news articles about some crazed villain, but you have had your own villain to deal with. Nothing else mattered. 

This was beginning to frustrate you. All the questions, all the prying — who cares about any of this stuff? You don’t even know where you are!

“I’m not familiar with him. I don’t care for any of it.” You couldn’t help but hear the question ring in your head again. 

Why are you here?

“I don’t,” you start up again, voice catching in your throat. “I don’t have a home to go back to.” 

The memory of glass breaking and blood splattering crosses your mind, running away in the rain clouds your thoughts, yet you continue, “I don't know what lies ahead for me, I don't have a future anymore. I just happened to stumble upon Giran.” 

Shigaraki is quiet for a moment. You have to force yourself to refrain from squirming under his gaze. 

“Show me.”

Your eyes snap to his, “What?”

“Show me your quirk.'' His voice is firm and unwavering. You’re looking at him to see if you could find any injury or even bruises but from your distance you cannot. It's not until Shigaraki pulls the already loose collar of his shirt down over his shoulder and you see it. There’s a large bandage on his shoulder and your steps falter a bit – not expecting him to expose so much skin so easily.

You swallow, uneasiness buzzing through your veins as you watch him remove the bandage and expose a gash on his shoulder. It looks recent, but you can't tell from this distance, so you move towards him. 

The closer you get, the more you notice the finer details of the man. His ashen hair looks soft up close and his dark shirt does little to hide the lithe muscle underneath. It’s like walking into the cage of a wild tiger, sitting and waiting for its perfect moment to grab you.

He notices your hesitation and sucks his teeth, “I don’t have all day.” 

You swallow your nerves and continue on. The closer you get, the more clearly you can see the scars on his neck as well. Not as bad as the gash on his shoulder, but still noticeable. You try not to steal too long of a glance and reach out, slowly — ready to heal him. 

The wound doesn’t seem to be very deep so you only use one hand, a seafoam green glow emitting and covering his injury. 

Shigaraki inhales slowly, feeling the relieving effects of your quirk healing him from the inside out. It doesn’t take long, the wound was already in the process of recovering before so this was more minor than you thought. You pull away once you were sure his shoulder was back to normal, taking a cautious step back from the man before you. 

His attention is on Giran as he rolls his shoulder, flexing out all the previous tension and sighing in relief. 

“Something like this isn’t easy to come by, Giran. What’s your price?”

Price, he says. Like you’re cattle, as if you’re some kind of product to be shipped off and traded. It makes you feel low. 

Giran shrugs, smile pliant on his face and cigarette hanging loosely in his mouth. “No price. I told you – I owe this kid my life. Just make sure she’s safe and fed and we’ll call it even.” 

Shigaraki still seems to be skeptical because he stands to his feet and you take another step back from him. His form is tense and you have to fight the urge to run to the door behind Giran. Shigaraki is taller, even with his slouched posture, and the sinking feeling in your stomach only grows as you anxiously watch for his next move. 

You vaguely register the man engulfed in dark clouds calling Shigaraki’s name — a warning in his tone. 

Giran raises a hand, smile never faltering. “Seriously. Eye for an eye.” He cocks his head, “But I’m not opposed to additional payment, if that’s what you want.” 

It's a joke, one that the man before you does not find funny. He stands up straighter, “Whatever. Fine, we’ll take her in.” 

You’re unsure if this is something you should celebrate or ease your way out of, but Giran seems to take it well. An honest smile gracing his features as he looks back to you, “You hear that, kid? You're in.” 

Shigaraki turned to the shadowlike man behind the counter, “Kurogiri, prepare a room for her.” 

Kurogiri nods and makes his way from behind the bar, you assume you should follow, but this was… a lot to take in. If they were to take you in then you wont ask too many questions. As long as you could lay low and keep to yourself then things would be fine. This wouldn’t have to be forever, just long enough to get yourself together and make your next moves. 

You find solace in that thought as you walk past Giran — sending you an amiable wave as you trail behind Kurogiri. 

Shigaraki stays behind in the bar and you’re thankful, his demeanor doesn’t seem like one you would like to be around for long periods of time. 

There’s a brief moment when you're passing Shigaraki. His eyes meet yours and you notice the shine in them, a glimmer of covet curiosity so quick you almost miss it. 

And you can’t help but wonder what exactly is it you’ve just gotten yourself into.