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Pat just being like “c’mon babe I promise, I just need to get off and it’ll help so much. Just the tip, I swear, that’s all. Just the tip.”
Maybe with Art’s gf? They’re close and you know they’ve done more together than they’ll admit to and Art’s got those catholic premarital sex notions so you’re kinda on edge and if it IS just the tip then it’s fine, right? If it doesn’t go any further than that… it doesn’t count as cheating when it’s his best friend and it’s just the tip….
Turning that on its head and sweet blushing virgin Art getting so worked up that it’s Your turn to say “just the tip, baby. It doesn’t count if you’re not all the way in. I bet it’s so painful, I wanna help. You can give me the tip.”
Naturally neither stop at just the tip teehee
FUUUUUUUCK <3 this has been hidden in my inbox and I JUST found it. Feeling INSANE!!!
Patrick thinks you're too sweet to go unfucked, to have your needs ignored in favor of some moral high ground bullshit. He knows how needy you are— you're not exactly subtle when you watch Art tug his sweaty shirt off on the tennis court, how you clench your thighs and cross and uncross your legs to get a bit of friction.
And he doesn't miss how you watch him either, when he's shirtless on the court, or at the pool. When it's hot in Art's dorm and he's stripped to his boxers. You watch him, you swallow and lick your lips and look away.
And there you are, staying the summer at his parent's empty mansion. Art's inside sleeping off a hangover, and you're with Patrick at the pool in a tiny bikini. You turn and stretch and reapply sunscreen onto your skin, and that's all it takes for Patrick to pop an obvious boner.
He's not above begging. Pleading. Getting on his goddamn knees for pussy. And he's very convincing. He knows you need more than what Art can give you, and Patrick doesn't even have to give you everything, you can save that for Art, he promises.
How can you say no? You should say no, but you don't. You let him tug your bikini bottoms to the side and tease the head of his cock through your sticky folds, bumping against your clit while you writhe on the plush lounge chair.
It doesn't take long for you to beg him. Each time his cockhead nudges against your entrance that tight ring of muscle there twitches, like your body wants to suck him deeper. When he just barely breaches your entrance you moan so pretty, it's like music to his goddamn ears.
It takes all of his self control to keep from driving in, deep, fucking you like he wants. But he's good. Even when you move your pretty manicured fingers to rub at your clit, even when your cunt clenches and pulses around him. He wants to fuck you the way you deserve, but he's a gentleman. He keeps his promise. He pulls out to cum, painting your cunt and bikini bottoms sticky white.
And once you have that, you just want Art more. You've gotten a taste, and you want the real thing bad. But Art's so sweet, so repressed.
Your poor, sweet Art, who has to hold you still with firm hands on your hips after five minutes of making out. Whose face goes ruddy and sheepish as he says he just needs a second to cool down. Who apologizes for getting so worked up and tells you that you're just so pretty he can't help it.
And you're so convincing that Patrick would be proud. Because it doesn't count if he's doesn't go all the way in, right? It'll help if he just gets a bit of release, then he won't be so tempted and overwhelmed by you. Isn't that a good thing? To just give in a little so he isn't tempted to give in entirely? Won't god understand?
If god doesn't understand, Art does. He swallows down a nervous lump in his throat and tugs down his jeans and boxers. His cock is flushed red and beading precum just from a heavy makeout session.
"You can't touch it." The words make you want to pout, but Art's like a skittish animal— one wrong move and it's over. So you lay back on the bed peel your panties away from your drenched pussy, so slick it's obscene.
It's just the tip. Art's a good boy, he'll behave. His hands shake as he leans down, brushes your hair from your face before he gives you a soft kiss. His cock notches against your entrance and you're both trembling with pure want.
It takes all of his self control, it really does. He feeds the first inch or two inside and you're so tight and wet and hot that he nearly cums then and there. He ruts into you with soft, shallow motions— making sure not to go too deep, even if he wants to. And he wants to so fucking badly.
"Just a little deeper," you nearly beg, and how can he say no? Just a little more. It won't hurt, it feels so good anyway. And then a little more, because he's already come this far. And then your heels press into his ass and he's buried in you to the hilt and you're squeezing him so tight that he can't help it.
He comes with a strangled groan, hips jerking clumsily as he instinctually tries to bury himself deeper. He collapses on top of you, all of the energy sapped out of him as he continues to rut into your cunt.
"I don't think that's going to help with temptation," he mumbles against your throat.
You kiss the crown of his head and pet his soft curls and assure him that it's fine, that he didn't mean to, that he didn't sin that much. He's a good guy, god will understand. All the while, you're keenly aware of a shadow of someone standing just on the other side of the door. A very smug, very proud Patrick Zweig.
#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#artrick x reader#art donaldson smut#patrick zweig smut#challengers x reader
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Hi! I'm new-ish to the jegulus/rosekiller ships and gonna be honest I'm really struggling to romanticize and ship characters that were/are death eaters, so I want to hear you takes on it and how you think it should be approached. Love the mini fics, they make up about 90% of my feed lol and I'd love to learn your approach! Thank!
Hi!
Well first I just want to say that you for like respectfully asking because so many people are so rude about it honestly.
Second, I think it's also important to say that you don't have to ship someone or force yourself to like anything! If you don't like a ship or can't understand it, it's totally okay to not read it!
I guess for me, it's many things:
I think this fandom has morphed into it's own entity outside of canon. I think that's both because that happens with most fandoms and also because of JKR and everything she's done. So now it's kind of at the point where canon Regulus exists somewhere, but not here, not to me. Same with Barty and Evan. I've created my own version of them, and I don't think James would ever be with a Death Eater. But he would be with my version of Regulus (and the version a lot of other people write). I skip over those fanfics where he is, and that's the best part about fandom- if you don't like it, you don't have to read it. But fandom is used to reimagine canon, so it doesn't have to be canon. You can reinvent anything you want.
I think it's important to recognize that we actually know very little canon info about these characters. The only character we spend a lot of time with in canon is Barty. Evan is mentioned once and Regulus is only mentioned a few times. So we simply don't know a lot about them. Yes, they are canonically Death Eaters, but we also know that canonically, Regulus was a defender of house elves and left the Death Eaters to try to destroy Horcruxes. We also know that Barty was very unloved by his father and joined the Death Eaters very young. These are flawed characters, not inherently evil characters.
People often use fanfic to explore characters- their flaws, motivations, backgrounds, and more. I think most depictions of these characters don't show them as perfect. They explore those flaws.
The fics that I read and write feature a Regulus, Barty, and Evan who either are in an alternate universe and are not Death Eaters, or a version of these characters that does not want to be a Death Eater. Other people might read different things and I respect that, but in my headcanons, Regulus, Barty, and Evan are NOT blood supremacists. I know they are in canon, but I don't like reading canon- that's why I read fanfic!
I think there's something to be argued about the fact that a lot of people accept Drarry as a morally acceptable ship, even thought Draco was a Death Eater. And I think the reason why is because we get Draco's redeemable qualities. We haven't gotten them from Regulus, Barty, and Evan but the people who ship them imagine that those qualities exist.
I think it's important to acknowledge though that all of this does not excuse the canon ideals of Death Eaters. It also doesn't mean everyone should ship these ships. Some people can't, because of their canon origins, and that's completely okay and valid! The thing that's not okay is sending hate to people about who they ship, and that's what tends to happen in this fandom, especially with the jegulus v jily debate.
Let me know if you have questions!
Also a reminder that any hate in the comments/reblogs/my inbox will be deleted!
#marauders#harry potter#asks#ask#marauders era#ask cas#marauders fandom#fanfic#harry potter marauders#the marauders
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let's talk Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag.
since this has been debated a lot, here's what the tag actually means;
before we begin, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag originated from the 2003 sitcom 'Arrested Development' — in one of the scenes, a character opened a fridge and found a brown paper bag with 'dead dove, do not eat' written on it. he opened the bag and surprise! inside was a dead dove (a literal dead dove). the character then said "I don't know what I expected."
thus the beginning of Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag on Archive of Our Own; the tag is basically to tell potential readers that the work they're about to read contains topics that are considered disturbing, offensive, violent, morally messed up, etc.
it's also to tell potential readers that they cannot be offended, they cannot get mad and blame the author for writing such a disturbing thing, because they have been warned beforehand.
so yes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag translates to 'hey, this work you're about to read is fucked up. if you choose to read it and it triggered your trauma, then you cannot be mad at the writer because they did warn you that it was gonna be fucked up.'
that being said, writers are also expected to tag other tags besides Dead Dove that will give their potential readers an idea of what the actual warnings are about. because Dead Dove tag alone is not enough to tell potential readers what they will find in a story they're about to read; as previously stated, Dead Dove tag is just to warn potential readers that the work might be offensive and triggering to them, but the tag alone does not say why it can be offensive and triggering.
for instance, if your work contains graphic details of human trafficking, then you should tag 'Dead Dove: Do Not Eat' and 'human trafficking', 'rape/non-con' and other tags that might be applied to the nature of your work, so that your potential readers know what, exactly, the Dead Dove tag is for. don't just tag it as Dead Dove without any further explanation.
also, Dead Dove does not equal tragic ending. a story that is tagged as 'Dead Dove: Do Not Eat' can still have fluff and/or happy ending. it's up to the author if they want their entire work to be Dead Dove or if they only want some parts of the work to be Dead Dove.
and I think that's it for 'Dead Dove: Do Not Eat' tag! remember to always tag your works properly! if you have any further question, my inbox is always open.
#dead dove do not eat#writing#writer#writers#writeblr#angst#whump#ao3#archive of our own#whumpblr#tropes#trope#prompts#fanfic#fanfiction#writing tropes#writing trope#whump tropes#whump trope#writing advices#writing advice#writing prompts#writing prompt#whump prompts#whump prompt#whump community#whump blog
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What's your stance on Ford as a person? Honestly, I believe that for thr majority of canon he is a bad person. But I believe he grew. Still not great though XD
(Love him anyways obvs)
I disagree entirely! I think he's equally as good a person as any of the other main cast.*
*Except Mabel, who, as we all know, is always right about everything.**
(**This is a lighthearted joke. For the love of god, I don't want Mabel discourse in my inbox.)
His biggest sins in the show:
After telling his brother that he was thinking about changing their shared life plans, and then discovering that his brother had gone to the high school that night for no good reason and gone to the science fair for no good reason and messed around near Ford's science project for no good reason and broke it and didn't tell Ford about it... Ford believed Stan did it intentionally and held a grudge for it. You know what, it WOULD be pretty damn hard to believe it was an accident.
Hilariously ill-equipped to cope with Fiddleford's mental health. A guy who responds to "I have anxiety" with "have you tried yoga, it helps me" isn't a bad person, he's clueless. "Character cheerfully enacts a bad idea while a loved one in the background goes NO PLEASE DON'T DO THAT" describes half the episodes of Gravity Falls.
Was successfully manipulated by a professional manipulator into believing his best friend wished him ill. Man, what a terrible person Ford is for being manipulated by a manipulator and saying cruel things to somebody he'd been genuinely convinced was trying to harm him.
??? Didn't say thanks to a guy he was still mad at after the guy fixed a problem he himself had caused. This is a solitary example of stubborn bad etiquette, jesus christ. There's half a dozen different reasons why it makes perfect sense Ford wasn't in the right mindset to feel grateful, this is not something worth indicting his entire character over.
He had high ambitions, which everyone seems to lambast him for, but high ambitions that wouldn't have required doing anybody harm! (Until the professional manipulator started manipulating him into harming the people around him, but we are going to demonstrate some reading comprehension and not blame Ford's underlying morality as a person for things he never would've done if not for Bill's bullying, con artistry, and outright lies.) Like, what is it that he wanted to do with his life? Use his talents to get rich and famous? Shit, that's exactly what Stan wanted to do with his life. It's what Dipper fantasizes about doing with his life. Even Mabel, who thinks about her long-term future the least, dreams big with her art & performances and is already making big money off cheap-ass commissions. What terrible people they all are, for—let me check my notes here—uhhh... unrealistically fantasizing about achieving success in life by doing the things they're good at.
When their dad accuses Stan of lying as a child, Ford puts his entire summer on the line to defend Stan even though he knows Stan is a habitual liar and has no reason to believe Stan is telling the truth this time.
When his new college roommate he barely even knows gets laughed at for proposing an outlandish scientific theory, his first emotion is outrage at this injustice and he drops everything to convince his already-despondent roommate that he was right and help him prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
When he moves to a new town, he tries again and again to befriend his new neighbors, and fails not because he's rude or a jerk, but because he's awkward as hell, tells terrible jokes, and sucks at identifying phoenixes.
When Fiddleford gets hurt around him, he cares about it, feels guilty about putting him in that position, doesn't want it to happen again, and tries his best to help even though he's bad at helping.
When he gets kidnapped by a weird holiday folklore creature, he concludes without even thinking about it that he's now in charge of protecting and rescuing the kidnapped kids. Yeah, then he immediately starts hollering at the folklore creature for trying to impose his religious beliefs on Ford and the kids—but like, Ford was right tho, he just had bad timing.
When he discovers that the Northwest family committed atrocities against their poorer neighbors a century ago, his first instinct is to march up to their house, find the first Northwest he can locate, and give them a piece of his mind for it. Like, this won't even FIX anything. He's just THAT OUTRAGED over the injustice.
When he sees what he thinks is a fortune telling fraud conning the people, he attempts to debunk her because he's mad to see someone cheating other people with lies—and when he can't debunk her, he just leaves her alone rather than harass her about it. Typically, if assholes think somebody's doing something wrong but don't have any proof of it and fail to get proof when they look, they decide they're right anyway and keep giving that person shit. Ford doesn't give her shit. That's the opposite of an asshole move.
When he discovers his Portal To Knowledge (And Fame & Fortune) is actually a Portal To Doom (But Still Possibly Fame & Fortune, Maybe Even Godly Power), he isn't tempted for a second to keep working on it anyway. There is no moment where Bill manages to tempt him. No matter what Bill offers, no matter how long Bill offers, never, at ANY point, does Ford have a SECOND of "but what if I did make a deal with the devil?" the way so many heroes in similar situations often do.
You ever notice that? So often moral moments in the show are presented as choices the characters make. Will or won't Dipper give Bill a "puppet" in exchange for knowledge. Will or won't Stan fight a pterodactyl to protect Mabel's pig. Will or won't Mabel hand Bipper the journal. Ford is never given a "will or won't he" moment over Bill's threats, offers of friendship, or offers of infinite power—he steamrolls straight past them without a second of consideration—because, to him, the selfish, cowardly, easy choice ISN'T EVEN AN OPTION. He doesn't even SEE it as making a choice because the possibility of doing the wrong thing is invisible. A character who wavers first before turning Bill down would look more noble for "overcoming" temptation—it's harder to notice just how much stronger Ford's moral compass must be to not even feel temptation in the first place.
Greed and pride never tempt him to join Bill's side. Exhaustion, despair, and fear never tempt him to give up. He bears up under weeks, possibly months of extreme sleep deprivation, physical torture, psychological torture, emotional torture, threats of death, threats of brainwashing, threats to his family. He doesn't hold up so that he can pat himself on the back for being a hero—if that was all it was he would've gone "screw it, this isn't worth it and nobody would know I'm the one who gave up" a week in—he does it because he simply knows it must be done and because he's so isolated (half because of Bill's influence!) that he believes he's the one who must do it, all alone.
Thinking he has to do it by himself isn't egotism or pride; it's helplessness. He thinks no one else stands a chance. He thinks he's alone.
And, when he discovers his Portal To Knowledge is a Portal To Doom, he immediately feels guilty. No trying to deny the situation to protect his ego. No shuffling the blame off to someone else. No "maybe the apocalypse could have a silver lining!" No locking the door and trying to ignore the problem. He blames himself for being fooled—he IMMEDIATELY takes full responsibility for his actions—and he CONTINUES to take responsibility FOR THE NEXT THIRTY YEARS.
He takes more responsibility than is even warranted—he treats himself like he's an idiot for believing in an APPARENT GOD who's been practicing manipulating humans for thousands of years and who had never given Ford reason to believe the portal was anything but what Bill said it was. He beats himself up to no end every single time his past with Bill comes up. He even keeps beating himself up thirty years later when he's shoving warning notes to future readers in Bill's evil unkillable book!
When he falls into the multiverse, he dedicates his entire life NOT to finding a way to rescue himself, but to finding a way to permanently stop the CHAOS GOD who's still at the threshold of destroying Ford's world and countless others. He makes himself a hated criminal in the process, just to stop Bill. He's ready to spend the rest of his life trying to protect a world he doesn't think he'll ever see again. He does it because, as he sees it, somebody has to stand in between the children and the obnoxious folklore cryptid menacing them, and he's the only adult in this damn cave with the skills and knowledge for the job.
When he gets home, he doesn't tell his family about Bill and his quest because he's afraid that doing so will get them involved and endanger them too—and because he's too deeply ashamed of himself and his mistakes to stand the thought of his family knowing about the horrible things he's done (AGAIN, WHILE BEING MANIPULATED BY THE GOD OF MANIPULATION).
He loves his great-niece and great-nephew the second he lays eyes on them; he nevertheless tries to steer away from them to keep them safe from Bill; and yet he caves to the very first temptation to emotionally bond with his great-nephew he gets, because in spite of his noble "keep them safe" intentions, he wants so so badly to be close to his family.
As pissed as he still is at Stan and even though neither of them can look at each other without hissing like cats, he still makes an attempt to start bridging their divide by inviting him to play DD&MD.
When the apocalypse happens, he immediately puts his life on the line to try to kill Bill.
And when he's captured, isn't fazed for a second by Bill's offers or threats... until his family is threatened. The exact thing he'd been trying to avoid & prevent from the very start.
And when he's reunited with Fiddleford, his immediate reaction is to point out that Fiddleford's well within his rights to hate him—which isn't a new revelation, it's not like Ford had to do any soul-searching to reach this conclusion, he'd concluded that 30 years ago the instant he realized Bill had played him and that he'd been lied to about Fiddleford.
And then he tries to kill Bill again.
And then he's ready to sacrifice his own life to kill Bill—and the only reason he doesn't is because he has a metal plate preventing him from making the sacrifice... but, Stan doesn't have a plate. If Ford hadn't had the metal plate, he would have gladly done the exact same thing Stan did—and he would have thought it was right for him and only him to make that sacrifice, because it's VERY clear he feels (and has felt from the start) that this is all his fault and he's obligated to fix it.
Over and over and over, these are Ford's two defining character traits: getting so pissed off at injustice that his common sense shuts off and he goes into terminator mode until he's righted this wrong as best he can, even when he can't actually do anything about it; and feeling like he's Atlas, weighed down with the full responsibility of fixing everything he's done wrong and made to believe that, for everyone else's sake, he has to do it all alone. Even when doing so puts himself in harm's way, even when he has to put his entire life on hold for it, even if it might cost him his life. Scrape off his awkward social skills, his loneliness, his nerdiness, his endless curiosity, his zealous love of the strange, his starry ambitions, his yearning for recognition and success—scrape his personality down to the bone and that's what you're left with. A man who believes in defending the exploited so strongly that it makes him a little stupid.
I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that you probably don't think Stan's fundamentally a bad person, and that you probably think that isn't even worth questioning. Stan's made a whole career out of swindling people, conning them out of as much money as he possibly can, stealing, lying, committing a long list of goofily-named crimes, and attempting douchy pick-up artistry on women; and to cap it all off, he held the safety of the entire universe hostage to demand a goddamn "thank you." Don't send me any "But he had reasons—" "But it was only to—" I don't need it, I don't want the essay, I'm not arguing that Stan's a bad guy, it's fine.
But. You can look at Stan's moments of cruelty and unkindness, his uncharitable thoughts, his character flaws, and think, "that doesn't define him. He's more than his cruelest moments and worst mistakes. He's imperfect, but he cares so much and his heart's in the right place, and beneath all the flaws his core is good."
And if you can't do the same for Ford, it's not because he's a worse person. It's because we got two seasons with Stan and five and a half episodes with Ford—and while we saw Stan yearning to fish with the kids or encouraging Mabel to whoop Pacifica's butt at minigolf or crying over a black and white period drama or punching zombies to save his family, we only saw Ford at the worst moments in his life and under the stress of a prolonged apocalyptic crisis—and, it so happens, all the moments he was pissed at the guy we spent two seasons learning to love.
Ford's got moments of cruelty and unkindness, uncharitable thoughts, and character flaws. But, at his core, he's a good person, and he always has been, and he still is.
#anonymous#ask#gravity falls#grunkle ford#ford pines#(note to self: when you see an ask that makes you go 'god i don't wanna get into this; i'll type something quick & punchy and move on'—)#(—do NOT start typing something 'quick & punchy' when your adhd meds are wearing off.)#(they WILL last just long enough for you to snap into a hyperfocus but not long enough for you to have the power to stop typing.)#(i'm thirsty.)#meta
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Hello, it's my first time requesting, so I'm not sure if this is the inbox you mentioned. I hope it is, and sorry if it is not. Can you do dad Miya Osamu with his child standing on his leg to be able to see the counter while he cooks, or something similar his child hanging on his leg, so he has to pick them up every time he needs to move around the kitchen to find stuff? I don't know if I explained it well, but if you want, I can send you the video I saw that made me ask this. Thank you :)
The pots boil loudly on the stovetop, and you watch affectionately as Osamu hunches over and grabs Hiroki, wrapped happily around his leg, by his bottom. The small boy laughs at the movement, and Osamu lets him go once he’s at the stove, stirring the water to quell its bubbling fury.
“I can take him off, you know,” you remind him, which your husband shrugs.
“I dunno,” he says. “Like having little man here. He doesn’t help a lot, but he boosts morale.”
“Is that what they said about you in high school?”
You laugh at the glare he’s quick to send you over his shoulder, head whipping to face you before he takes a dramatic sigh in through his nose, “I’ll have you know I was very talented in high school, thank you very much.” He hooks his hand under Hiroki’s bottom again as he turns back to the island in the kitchen, resuming the chopping of his vegetables while Hiroki starts suckling on the hem of his fathers pants. “What do you want for sides?”
“Whatever you suggest,” you hum. Osamu once again grabs Hiroki and waddles his way to the fridge, careful to not make the small boy fall off.
“I think there’s some left over kimchi, I know Rumi liked that the other night.”
“Kimchi it is, then,” you say, smiling. “With how picky she is, anything you get her to eat is plenty fine with me.”
“I know,” Osamu chuckles. He reaches into the fridge to grab a pack of chicken cutlets, placing them in his hand before grabbing Hiroki once more with the other. “Go relax momma, I’ve got this.”
“You sure you don’t want me to take him off?” You ask.
Osamu looks down at his little boy with an affectionate smile, “nah. Besides, you deserve 15 minutes to yourself. I’ll call you when dinners done.”
“Okay,” you mewl, stalking up to him to press a kiss to his cheek. A tiny hand pats your thigh lovingly, and when you look down, Hiroki has his father’s pants in his mouth again. “He’s uh-“
“Yeah, I know. I feel it.”
#short but sweet 🥺#osamu miya#osamu miya fluff#osamu miya x reader#osamu miya x reader fluff#osamu miya x f!reader#osamu miya imagine#osamu miya haikyuu#miya osamu#miya osamu fluff#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu x reader fluff#miya osamu x f!reader#miya osamu imagine#miya osamu haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x female reader#haikyuu x f!reader#haikyuu x yn#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#dad!au#dad!osamu miya#dad!miya osamu#dad!haikyuu#dad!haikyuu au
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On Calling Out Antisemitism... in the Crossword
So I like to do crosswords. It's fun, sometimes I learn random facts, it exercises my brain, and that jolt of satisfaction when I figure out the gimmick brightens my day. I usually do it on the Washington Post, which is the same as the LA Times, mainly because it's free (though these days I pay for the WP in large part because I like Alexandra Petri's pieces, but I digress.)
So there I am, working on the Sunday crossword at work on a quiet Monday morning, and the clue is "sanctimonious sort." Could be many things, I skip it and continue. Slowly, as I get some of the crosses, I say to myself, "surely this isn't going to be 'pharisee'. I'm gonna be so mad if the answer is 'pharisee.'"
The answer was Pharisee.
If you don't know why that's a problem, in brief: The Pharisees were the precursors to modern Rabbinic Judaism, and that word has been used by those enacting violence upon us for centuries-- throughout blood libels, Inquisition, crusades, expulsions, etc. When "pharisee" means "sanctimonious, hypocritical, self-righteous, etc." and "pharisee" also means "Jew" even of the historic variety, it tends to be extremely bad news for the actual living Jews of whatever era it is.
So I wrote the editors of the LA Times and the Washington Post, and I said so. I told them about the history of the term. I told them that at a time when antisemitism across the United States is rising alarmingly, it is, at best, deeply irresponsible of the newspapers to allow this insidious conflation of Judaism with moral corruption and hypocrisy to appear in what ought to be a light-hearted game.
And you know what? I got a response from the LA Times within hours apologizing for the harm and saying they'd reached out to the crossword writing company to discuss it. I got a response from the acquisitions editor, who had spoken with the crossword editor, conveying their sincere apologies, saying that they were unaware of the antisemitic implications of the term, and they would never intentionally cause harm. They thanked me for bringing it to their attention, and also thanked me for my suggestion of an alternate clue ("Contemporary of Jesus").
We on Jumblr and in the Jewish community offline have spent so much time talking our throats hoarse and our typing fingers sore about the harms of antisemitism, especially since October 7. I know many of us are feeling frustrated, burnt out, and hopeless. We start to wonder what the point is, when none of it seems to be making a dent. I almost didn't send that email. I almost let it go. I let myself be distracted by work, forgot about it for a week or so until something reminded me and I got angry all over again, and then I sent off an email that I expected to be buried in the inbox to maybe get a response in a month or so, because even if it never got read, at least I knew I had written it. But it did get read, and it got shared with the relevant people, and they cared.
Sometimes people listen. Sometimes they learn. Sometimes, all it takes is one person saying "hey, this hurt me."
I'm taking the win today.
#jumblr#antisemetism tw#antisemitism#pharisees#crossword#if you come into my mentions with anything 'well actually' about the pharisees I will block you
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Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue.
an engagement party, your childhood best friend, one too many glasses of champagne. what could go wrong?
pairing - childhood bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. cheating. alcohol mention. so much angst… i’d apologise but i’m not sorry.
word count - 3.7k
author’s note - get it? like, something borrowed, something blue… because it’s a wedding… I was half asleep when that popped into my head and I thought it was perfect, personally. I don’t condone cheating irl, but also… it’s your life, do what you want ;)
as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! so, if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging. thanks, angels <3
masterlist. inbox.
The moonlight shines down, glinting off the diamond ring settled on your left hand.
Everyone's dancing, singing, laughing, enjoying each other's company in a rare moment of complete happiness. People keep grabbing you, hugging you, reaching for you to offer their congratulations.
Isn't it just so wonderful? Two people completely in love. Ah, to be young again.
The fairy lights twinkle where they're hung across the garden, acres of grass just begging to be decorated. You'd initially protested this venue - a huge country house in the middle of nowhere, with countless rooms and a huge courtyard.
It's just our engagement party, not our wedding. We don't have to be so extravagant.
This isn't extravagant - not for my family, anyway. Just say yes. I'll plan the entire thing, you don't have to worry.
And so you did. Say yes. To his proposal, the venue, anything he suggests. You can't find it in you to say no, to argue, to fight for what you really want. It isn't worth it.
"There you are, my soon to be wife!"
You take a deep breath, pretending the sound of his voice doesn't make you feel sick.
"My soon to be husband."
He can't see the grimace on your face, even though it's there, loud and clear. He can't read you, has never been able to.
"A car has just pulled up. You expecting anyone else?"
You are, but you won't let yourself get your hopes up. So you lie.
"Don't think so."
"Okay, well... you'll save me a dance, won't you? My mom wants to take some pictures."
You nod reluctantly, patting his arm with as much affection as you can muster.
"I think your brother is calling you."
You direct his attention to where his frat boy siblings are, hollering and yelling for him to come over.
"My guys!"
He departs as quickly as he came, leaving a wave of too strong cologne in his wake.
You take a walk from the garden to the front of the house, curiosity peaked. You scan the parking lot, and your heart stops when you spot the car in the corner.
A burgundy 1983 BMW 733i.
He's here.
You spin on your heel, searching almost frantically, when you hear someone clear their throat. You turn around, and there he is.
Leaning against a pillar, stood in a dress shirt and tailored trousers, hair perfectly styled.
Steve Harrington.
You're half convinced you're dreaming. The world moves around you in a daze, crickets chirping and wind blowing gently. You lock eyes with him, and can't fight the grin that spreads across your face.
“Don’t fret, baby. The life of the party has arrived.”
You scoff but almost run towards him, tripping over in your heels. He meets you halfway, arms snaking around your waist to keep you steady as you wrap yourself around him.
He smells the same. Cologne, spearmint, a faint note of diesel from the car. He smells like home.
Past home, you remind yourself. Not anymore. You have a new home now, with a soon to be husband that doesn’t understand you and a soon to be family that is built on morally questionable money and fake niceties. Steve’s a person of your past, a distant memory, a fading dream.
Except he’s stood right in front of you.
He's staring at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place. You’ve never seen it before.
"I didn't think you'd come," you whisper, begging yourself to pull away from his embrace. He doesn't let you go far, keeping his arms around your back as if he's worried you'll bolt at any given moment.
"And miss my best friends engagement party? Never."
"Best friends. We're not five anymore, Steve."
You roll your eyes, punching his arm lightly.
"What, I can't call you my best friend anymore?"
He picks you up, spinning you across the gravel of the parking lot. You're dizzy with it, the world passing by you in streaks of shapes and colours.
"Steve!"
"What?" he laughs. "You don't like this, best friend? What's the problem, best friend? Are you dizzy, best friend?"
"Put me down!"
Steve throws you over his shoulder as you both spin, strong hands preventing you from falling.
"Put me down, Steve, please - okay, okay! You're my best friend! Call me best friend all you want, please!"
Steve's crying with laughter, out of breath and rosy cheeked. He places you back on the ground, smoothing your hair down with rough palms.
You inhale carefully, grabbing onto his biceps as an anchor as you gauge your bearings. You look up at him, and lose your breath all over again.
Chest heaving, tongue darting over his bottom lip, hair mussed but still perfectly styled. He looks a picture, an ancient painting, a statue carved from the finest marble.
"I never want you to stop calling me your best friend," you whisper, so quietly that the breeze takes it.
"Then I won't."
Your hand slips down Steve's arm and into his, fingers linking gently.
"I missed you."
"I missed you so much, Birdy. You have no idea."
The childhood nickname shoots a lightning bolt through your heart, shiver running up your back involuntarily.
The two of you would sit and watch cartoons for hours on the floor of Steve's living room, pressing your little heads together to see the TV better. He'd joke that you sounded like Tweety Bird, all sweet and lispy. The nickname was born that day, and stuck ever since.
"How was California?"
"So good. I'll tell you all about it later. How's your engagement party?"
"It's good."
You try to sound convincing but your voice cracks, giving you away instantly. Busted.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. There's a few people you know back there - from school, the neighbourhood, family. They'll all wanna see you."
"I'll socialise later. Wanna talk to you first."
The intensity in his voice makes you nervous. You realise you're still holding his hand, so you drop it, crossing your arms over your chest.
"You didn't RSVP."
"Didn't get your invite. Travelling."
"I called your mom. She said she'd tell you."
"She didn't."
"She told me she did."
The crickets continue to chirp, gentle breeze blowing your hair into your face. You look at Steve pointedly, unwilling to be the first to break.
"What are you doing here, Steve?"
"It's your engagement party."
"So you've said."
"I haven't seen you in months."
"I tried to call, but you stopped answering."
"Birdy-"
"I'm just saying, Steve. We haven't spoken in months, I feel like you've been point blank ignoring me, I've had to come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn't be at this party or the wedding and then all of a sudden you just show up? Unannounced?"
"I know how this looks."
"Do you?"
You're not entirely sure where all of this anger has come from, but you can't seem to tamp it down. It's bubbling, simmering, threatening to spill over the surface dramatically any second.
"I wasn't sure I could do this. Any of it."
"Do what?"
"Stand by and watch you make a mistake."
You scoff, laughing at him in disbelief. He's never been one to sugarcoat things, and usually, it's one of your favourite things about him. But not today.
"Don't you fucking dare, Steve."
"Birdy, be real. The guy is a prick. And you want to marry him? You're a smart girl, the smartest person I know. You've got to see that none of this makes any sense."
"So you showed up here to yell at me? Criticise my life choices? Thanks, Steve. Thanks a million. Some best friend, huh?"
"I've done nothing but support you."
"You ran away! Across the country! How is that support?"
"Fine, maybe I can't support straight up stupidity!"
"Am I smart or am I stupid? Which one is it?"
Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair as he watches you pace the gravel in front of him. You're vibrating with fury now. It's something he's seen before. Something he knows how to navigate better than anyone. He knows you. He knows you need an outlet here.
He also knows that you're never more hyperaware than when you're mad. So, he takes his opportunity.
"I came here to tell you not to marry him."
You stop dead in your tracks, shaking your head in denial.
"...Why, Steve? Why would you say that?"
"You know why."
"No."
You take a deep breath and will yourself not to cry. In the garden, you can hear people laughing, singing along to some 70s pop song you've never liked. You pray silently that no one comes looking for you.
You take a step closer to Steve, standing up straight.
"Say it."
He looks at you incredulously, shocked by your sudden defiance.
"Say it, Steve. If you came all this way to say it, then fucking say it."
Steve steps into you, closing down the space. You don't move, determined not to back down.
"You're going to hate me if I say it, Birdy."
"I don't give a fuck anymore. Say. It."
Steve runs his tongue over his bottom lip, never once breaking eye contact with you. The silence seems to stretch on infinitely, thick and blanketing like fresh snow falling.
"I'm in love with you."
You feel like you've been punched in the gut. You take a deep breath and try to stay on two feet, wobbling where you stand. Finally, you find your voice.
"Fuck you, Steve Harrington. Fuck. You."
He laughs, but there's no humour in it.
"Yeah."
"How dare you? How dare you come to my engagement party and start confessing your feelings? You could have told me anytime, but you chose today?"
He goes to interrupt but you hold a finger up, effectively shutting him up.
"How long, huh? How long have you been in love with me?"
Steve's trembling, chest stuttering with the force of his confession.
"For as long as I can remember."
You haven't looked away from him once. You're frozen in place, suspended in the moment.
"No you haven't."
"You're gonna tell me how I feel now, Birdy?"
"Yeah, Steve, I am. Because I don't believe you. You're King Steve, ladies man, notorious player. You were never seen with the same girl twice in high school. Don't you remember? Sneaking into my room at night, whispering under my blankets about your latest hookup, telling me all the dirty details?"
"I remember," he whispers, voice laced with something like sadness. "Of course I remember."
"You don't get to tell me this now. It's not fair, Steve."
"Why not, huh?"
"Because I've always been in love with you! Always."
Steve stumbles backwards, dizzy and disorientated.
"No you haven't."
"You're gonna tell me how I feel now?" you laugh in disbelief. "I've always been in love with you. Everyone knows it. My parents, your parents, all of our friends... I think the goddamn mailman knew, Steve!"
"I didn't."
"Blissful ignorance," you chuckle humourlessly.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I knew it wouldn't change anything."
Steve's eyes go wide as he keels over, as if the wind has been knocked out of him.
"Wouldn't change anything? Birdy, it... I-I can assure you it... It would have changed everything."
You both look at each other, breathless and riddled with confusion. There's something flowing through your veins, something unintelligible, something unrecognisable.
"Why would you do this today?" you choke out, sobs threatening to break free. "Of all the days, Steve."
"Because I'm going insane!" he yells, voice raising. "I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't function knowing that you're going to marry a man you don't love. It's ruining my life, Birdy!"
"You don't think it's ruining mine? Huh?"
You take a breath, very aware that if you shout anymore, multiple people are going to come running from the garden.
"This is selfish, Steve. And you're not selfish."
He looks down at you, bottom lip wobbling.
"I am when it comes to you. Always have been."
"You're breaking my fucking heart, baby."
You choke out the words before bursting into tears, sobs wracking your frame. Steve grabs your hand and guides you to the stone steps, sitting you down next to him. Against better judgment, he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
He smells so familiar, so comforting, that it only makes you cry harder. You bury your face in his chest, fingers tangled into his dress shirt, holding on for dear life.
"I'm sorry," he's mumbling. "I'm so fucking sorry. I had to. I really had to."
"I know," you're muttering back. "I know you did. I know."
You lift your head to look at him only to find he's crying too, years of emotion dripping down his face. You wipe his tears with your thumbs, your heart shattering at the sight in front of you.
Steve's only made you cry once before. In ninth grade, you'd stupidly assumed that the two of you would go to the prom together. Steve had made a joking comment about always being your date, and you hadn't questioned it. Then, one Friday night, he'd snuck into your room to tell you excitedly that he'd asked Lizzy Buchanan to the dance, and she'd said yes. You'd burst into tears immediately, much to your teenage embarrassment, willing yourself to play your cards closer to your chest. Steve had crumbled instantly, crying because you were.
That's how it's always been. He cries, you cry. You cry, he cries. He's just not usually the cause of the tears.
"I'm sorry, Birdy," he chokes. "This was the only way."
"I know," you soothe, rubbing circles into his wet cheeks with your fingers. "I know. You're not the villain here, Steve. You never were."
His eyes are trained to yours, silent communication passing back and forth. The two of you have always had the ability to practically read each other's minds.
You're not sure who moves first - perhaps it's the universe, pulling you together by the strings woven into your chests - but suddenly your lips are melded together, moving as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Steve's clinging to you as if you're his life source, a man in the desert without water.
You tangle your fingers into his hair to tug him impossibly closer, eyes fluttering when he groans, deep and visceral. He spreads his legs and pulls you between them, both of you slotting together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Your tears are dancing onto each other's cheeks, mixing like rain water and gasoline.
Suddenly, you yank yourself from his grip, standing up and smoothing down your silky dress. Steve prepares himself for the yelling, the screaming, a slap that he most definitely deserves.
Instead, he's met with you, chest heaving, skin warm, eyes heavy. You're looking at him expectantly.
"Come with me," you croak, voice hoarse and untrustworthy.
You grab his hand and slink through the front door, up the grand staircase and into a room with a heavy oak door. He follows you obediently, confused but completely trusting.
It's your hotel room. A marriage suite. A spacious, windowed room, with makeup scattered across the vanity and suitcases half unpacked on the floor. The bed is still made, which makes Steve breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn't had you here. The room isn't marred.
The minute you shut the door you're back on Steve, shoving him up against the hard wood. He grabs handfuls of your ass and spins you around, backing you into the cold surface behind you for stability. He lifts you easily, wrapping your legs around his waist as he kisses you again.
Steve trails his lips down your neck as you rock your hips, desperate to find some friction. You whine gently, fingers tugging at his hair a little rougher than intended to get your message across.
"What do you need, honey?" he murmurs, afraid to disrupt the atmosphere.
"You."
Steve throws his head back as he groans, exposing his throat to you. You waste no time in nipping up the expanse of it, sinking your teeth in with no regard for the consequences. You're too far gone now, not worried about looking back.
Walking backwards, Steve tosses you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce off of it. He unbuttons and strips his shirt, pulling his belt from the loops as he goes. You can only lie there and watch, wondering when your best friend became less of a boy and more of a man. He's all corded muscle and tanned skin, freckled and perfect.
Steve crawls between your legs, kissing you tenderly.
"Wanna take my time with you," he murmurs between kisses. "Can't right now. Will, though. Promise."
You feel as if there's electricity crackling across your skin, pulsing and alive. It's never felt like this with anyone. It never will again.
"Promise?"
You can't help the slight insecurity that colours your voice, young and unsure.
"I promise, Birdy. Cross my heart."
He takes your hand in his and places it over his chest, as if to solidify his point.
You nod and kiss him again, desperate to have every inch of his skin on yours.
Steve shimmies your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him somewhere. Shucking his trousers off, he pushes your dress up and around your waist, groaning when he gets a good look at you.
"Prettiest girl in the world. He doesn't deserve you. Never did."
"And you do?"
"I'll spend every day for the rest of time proving that I do."
With that he's pushing into you, sliding home with one smooth thrust. Both of you gasp, grabbing onto the other person to use them as an anchor.
"Please, Steve," you're whispering. "Give me everything. I want it all."
"You've got no idea how long I've been waiting for this."
"I do," you laugh, "I do. Because I've been waiting just as long."
Steve chuckles and leans down to kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to memorise the way you taste. There's remnants of champagne on your lips, along with the minty lip gloss you've loved for as long as he can remember.
He wastes no time setting a steady rhythm, thrusts deep and measured. You rake your nails down his back, clawing at this skin, praying silently that you leave your mark. Little do you know, you staked your claim on him a long, long time ago.
"S'good, Stevie," you whine. "Fuck, so good."
"Does he make you come? Does he even try?"
You shake your head frantically, closing your eyes when Steve laughs dryly.
"Didn't think so. He can't make you feel the way I can, baby. He'll never be able to."
His words are only pushing you closer and closer to the edge, red hot heat building at the pit of your stomach. Steve places one hand at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it causing your eyes to roll back.
Your sweat slicked skin is plastered to his, every inch of you pressed together. Steve leans down to rest his forehead against yours, panting into each other's mouths.
"I love you," he breathes, hips getting quicker. "I love you. Fuck, I love you."
"I love you," you sob, back arching as you find your release. Stars dance across your vision as you tighten around Steve, nails leaving crescent moons on the skin of his shoulders.
Steve's right there with you, back flexing and fingers leaving their prints on your hips as he groans. It's the prettiest sound you've ever heard. Your mind loops it for you, playing it on repeat as he collapses his weight on top of your body.
"I meant it," he mutters against your damp chest. "I do love you. Always have."
You kiss his forehead gently, smoothing the hair away from his face.
"I meant it too. I love you. You taught me what love was in the first place, Steve."
He leans up to press his lips to yours, tender and honey sweet.
You realise the gravity of the situation all of a sudden, your heart rate increasing in Steve's ear.
"Hey, hey. Birdy. Don't panic, okay? We'll figure this out."
You think for a moment, weighing up your options in your head. Unexpectedly, you're jumping out of bed, fixing your dress and slipping on your underwear and heels.
"What are you doing, babe?"
You adjust your hair and swipe your fingers under your eyes to salvage your makeup in the mirror, turning to face the man who's now dressing himself frantically.
"Have you had a drink tonight?"
"No, I drove here."
"Perfect."
You grab your purse and stand by the door, waiting for him to follow. When he looks at you in pure confusion, you chuckle.
"Let's run away."
"Birdy... what?"
"Steve. You heard me. Let's. Run. Away."
He scans your face for any sign of hesitation, but all he finds is love. Adoration. Assuredness. That's all the confirmation he needs.
He runs at you, picking you up and spinning you around. Grabbing his hand, the two of you sneak down the stairs, slipping out of the front door as quietly as possible.
You throw yourself into the front seat of his BMW, vibrating with adrenaline as Steve starts up the engine. It roars to life, and you're very aware that people are going to come looking for you.
But you don't care.
Steve links your fingers, resting your intertwined hands in his lap as he reverses. You go to look back towards the garden, but you stop yourself.
"Can't move forward if you're always looking back, right?"
Steve laughs, leaning over to kiss your warm cheek.
"Truer words have never been spoken, Birdy."
He brings the car to a stop before you begin down the winding driveway, looking at you carefully.
"You ready?"
You take a deep breath, grinning at him.
"I've been ready since we were five years old."
He smiles at you, bright and blinding, and there's no doubt in your mind that you've made the right choice.
Can't move forward if you keep looking back, after all.
@enigmaticloki @joekeerysslut @s-trawberryv-eins @wintressoldier36 @mangomastani
#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x reader angst#steve harrington x female reader#steve harrington x you#bestfriend!steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x bestfriend reader#childhood bestfriend steve harrington#stranger things fluff#stranger things smut#stranger things x reader
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Alright, so there's been a lot of chatter about some of the most common racist takes in the fandom lately, and I know most people aren't engaging in good faith but I'm gonna spell some things out anyway. Here's a handy-dandy White Fan's Intro to Racist Fanon 101
Why is it racist to depict Ed as uncontrollably violent?
Because he's not actually depicted that way in the show. OFMD goes out of its way to depict Ed's relationship with violence as complex and intensely traumatic for him. Because he has so many hangups around violence, Ed is one of the least violent characters in a show full of violent characters. He is always shown giving people many chances before they're able to push him into reacting with violence.
Even if you think you're just doing a character study on a guy who is really very complex and nuanced, please take the time to consider if you're assigning more weight to Ed's violent actions than those of other characters or assuming he's worse than he actually is (for example, Ed never physically hurt the crew during his kraken spiral, just Izzy. His crime was being a shitty boss, not going on mindlessly violent rampages).
What do other common fanon depictions of Ed that are racist look like?
The biggest ones are depicting Ed as untidy/messy, as illiterate, and as needing a white man (most often Izzy) to clean up after him. I hope I shouldn't have to spell out why these are racist, but please keep an eye out for them in the fanon you consume so you can be critical of how you respond when they pop up.
Are you saying that all Izzy fans are racist?
Liking a character is morally neutral. Insisting that the viewpoint of an antagonistic character is the lens through which the show should be understood, though, especially when that antagonistic character's whole deal in the first season of the show was trying to control the behavior of the brown lead so he could gain power for himself, however...
Just please consider - why do you find Izzy's tears more deserving of sympathy and compassion than Ed's?
But my hot take/fic/meta doesn't say anything about Ed's skin color!
It doesn't have to. Most of the racist takes/fic/meta out there don't mention Ed's skin color explicitly. Racism doesn't just look like saying "this character is a brown man so he's bad." Everyone who grows up in a racist society (that's everyone on the planet, btw, you included) has biases to unlearn, and those biases impact how you interact with the world around you, including with the media you consume.
The thing is, OFMD isn't a subtle show. It's very consistent with telling us who Ed is, how he responds to situations, and why he behaves the way he does. If you find it easier to throw all that aside in favor of believing what a white antagonistic character tells you about him, then you should really take a bit to examine that.
And here's the most important thing to keep in mind:
This is not about you.
Trust me, it has to be pretty damn bad for fans of color to call out racism in fandom. Every time we do, we know we're gonna harrassment and just some truly awful shit in our inboxes. But you, random white fan who Did A Racism? No one is out to get you. No one thinks you're an awful person for including a racist trope in your stuff, we just wish you'd examine it so we can make this fandom a better place for everyone.
I have had amazing discussions with white fans who saw my posts on fandom racism and wanted a sensitivity read or a check so they could fix an instance where they uncritically included a racist trope. But most people who make similar mistakes will just double down and insist they didn't do anything wrong, and that makes fandom a worse place for all of us.
Fans of color deserve to feel safe and included in this fandom, and we're just tired of feeling like we have to beg to get some circles to see poc as people. You can do your part by being critical of these tropes and your reactions to them when they pop up.
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Mutual 1: (An extremely extensive post detailing their trauma on their secret blog)
Mutual 1: (A picture of the soup they finished making) Eeatting penis soup grab a bowl
Mutual 2: (Cropped batman yaoi) This scene was so compelling in the comics qnd established so much for Bruce Waynes character as a bottom
Mutual 3: Just updated my comic (it is one of the most compelling pieces of narrative youve ever read. Its based off of a bad game)
Mutual 4: Ngl this omegaverse gacha life youtube video is more compelling than most shows i watch
Mutual 5: Finally cocking out i swear if one more thing happens today i will snap
Mutual 6: PENIS TYPO
Mutual 7: PENIS TYPO
Mutual 8: PENIS TYPO
Mutual 9: This yak tranquilizer weak af
Mutual 10: Come make my sinister potion (posts how to make a pipebomb)
Mutual 11: Do i get plastic surgery and change my name and move to a different country y/n (poll is in favor of yes by a huge margin)
Mutual 12: Mutual 13 is a lying fucking piece of trash and i think they should drop dead. They live at 308 Negra Aroya Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104 and im going to record me beating the shit out of them
Mutual 13: Aww my bestie is coming to visit me soon :]
(Mutual 12 and 13 are dating)
Mutual 14: who tf does she think she is (posts a sc of mutual 8 from three url changes ago. It is mutual 8 saying theyre going to the park)
Mutual 15: So in my latest session in dnd we rolled 1d12 for dick size and i rolled a nat 20 and idk what to do with this reponsibility now
Mutual 16: he looks so good im going to scream (a screenshot where said character is so far in the background he doesnt even have a face)
Mutual 17: eho up thinking about the moral dillemma presented in pokemon go
Mutual 18: take a look at my ocs :D (mona lisa if dhe was gay)
Mutual 19: i hadba really good day today i got to spend some time bonding with my entire family and we got to celebrate something we havent had the time for in 37 years
Mutual 20: (reblogging mutual 19) L + Don't care + 632146K~P PRC, dl.2146K~P, 5K > 2146K~P, 5K > JF 2146K~P, 2H, WS ([4]6H->P), 623H
Mutual 21: (Blurry photo of them running from police) they're after me for my stash kf yaoi cocaine
Mutual 22: (Miles long RP chain they started 2 months ago. You have post notification on for them because its awesome)
Mutual 23: Discussing the morality of liking bananas over mangoes
Mutuals 24 ans 25: having a dramatic wedding where theyre acting as a crack ship. They're on the verge of divorce
Mutual 26: She winding onbmy waker (is in the middle of intense controversy)
Mutual 27: (Callout for mutual 26)
Mutual 28: If Mutual 17 asked i would give them a sloppy toppy
Mutual 29: Anon get out of my inbox before j block you his ass is NOT flat. (His ass is fucking concave)
Mutual 30: Shes just like me fr (a picture kf a shopping cart)
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@2flowerz also asked for Lyca so
NOW WITH 100% MORE DOGGO LYCA. HE IS DEFINITELY A HUMAN AND NOT A WEREWOLF. He is trying very hard to be a human. I love him very much. . . .
Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)
"...You again. Where're we going today?"
You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)
"Hey, you got letters. Don't you have to read them? Oh, don't you know how?"
he understands if you can't read, man. neither can he.
Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)
"You smell sweeter than usual today... Stop. Go away."
after learning that the pc is going to turn into the anomaly that cursed them any sort of 'you smell nicer than normal' feels like such a threat lmao
"You want to touch me? Fine. Ten seconds and that's it."
that is more than enough my good sir
"When I find Neros, I wanna prove I've been getting along with humans. Then he'll definitely let me live with him."
considering he related the term 'neglect play' to what Neros did to him. . .I'm not so sure. . .and if Neros was as old as he sounds like he was, I wonder if he's even still alive. . . .
"Hey! Moth-eaten Casanova! Where'd you go? I'm gonna show you my special move today."
"special move" in Japanese is 「必殺技」 or 'lethal move'/'killer technique', usually unique to a person or fighting style. Not sure if he wants to show Ed how cool he is or try and kill him lmao--
"This phone thingy they gave me keeps making noises and making me jump... Why do I gotta carry it everywhere? It's scary!"
Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)
"Mnn... Let me sleep... Don't touch me... Zzz..."
Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)
"Laws, school regulations, anomalous law... Manners, morals, rules... How're you s'posed to remember all that?"
man i wish i could tell you. . .i've mostly got the morals in order, that's basically just 'don't do harm to others' when you get down to it. laws are about 50% 'don't do things that may endanger you or others' and 50% bullshit. the rest you're kinda on your own with.
Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"Urgh... My skin's crawling... Moon must be gettin' round soon..."
Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)
"At first I was sad 'cause I got put in a different house to Suba, but all kinds of stuff happens here every day so it was fine."
awww he was sad because he doesn't get to see Subaru as often but he's not bored so it's alright! glad he's comfortable ;u;
Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)
"H-Hey, don't come so close! Somethin' about your scent makes my stomach feel weird!"
WE'RE ONLY ON AFFINITY 5 DUDE YOU CAN'T BE CATCHING FEELINGS THIS EARLY it's probably because he's scared of girls or something lol
Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"I didn't do anything wrong! Those guys were saying mean stuff about me 'cause they thought I couldn't hear. All I did was yell at them."
I hate how they won't even let Lyca defend himself verbally. . . .
Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)
"I don't mind classes. The teachers say cool stuff. Once I learn to read the textbooks and the notes and the blackboard it'll be perfect."
HE'S GONNA BE SUCH A GOOD STUDENT WHEN HE CAN READ???
Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"There was this big noise in our practical class and my ears popped out. Everyone ran away screaming. Damn it..."
wow they're cowards if the ears alone scared them. . .how're they supposed to deal with anomalies if that scared them!?
Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)
"This? It's a picture book, duh. How come you don't know that when you're a human? I study with it before bed, everyone does it."
I wonder who made him a picture book of all the things he'd be learning as a first year to study with. . . . . .or maybe it's just a generic picture book lol
Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)
"This blanket's not trash, it's just dirty. I can't sleep without it, so hands off."
he really loves that blanket huh. it must be one of the only things he had from his childhood or from being looked after by neros. . . .
Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)
"What's a "so-shul skill"? That blond gigolo was talking about them. He said I don't have any. Is that a good thing?"
he's got social skills!! Just. . .not very human social skills!!!
Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)
"I'm starving... I wanna eat Sho's food, but I can't order it without Suba... Wait, you can read, right?"
Lyca slowly realizing how many people he knows can actually read and thus can help him with placing orders for delicious foods--
Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"That moth-eaten Casanova's in his room all day so I tried to take him for a walk, but he locked his door and ignored me. The hell?!"
LYCA CONTINUES TO SCRATCH AT ED'S DOOR COME FOR WALKIES ED!!!!
Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)
"That stupid blond gigolo ran off with my blanket. I'm not done sleeping yet..."
tbf your blanket is filthy. . .and I get it, it's what you've got and it smells familiar but. . . .
Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)
"I can't get back to sleep... I'm gonna wake up that moth-eaten Casanova for a walk."
lyca is a dog scratching at your bedroom door with his leash in his mouth like 'yes it is time for walkies now rise human'
Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)
"The teacher asked us to name an anomalous plant you can eat but when I did he said humans can't eat it. So what? I can, so I'm not wrong."
I AGREE WITH HIM HE SHOULD NOT GET THAT MARKED WRONG. if you only want a human applicable question say 'humans' not 'you.
Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)
"In the last place I never knew what time it was and I pretty much just slept all day. Now I gotta get used to having a "roo-teen.""
Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)
"I'm drawing. If I draw all the good stuff and bad stuff that happened every day I won't forget about it."
if he could write he'd keep a diary but since he can't write he's keeping a picture diary. . .and he's a really good artist according to his character story, so it's probably a pretty faithful recreation of whatever happened that day. i'd love to see his picture diary. . . .
Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)
"Huh? The blood on my bed? ...It's nothing. Don't touch my stuff, you're gonna get your smell all over it!"
WHY IS THERE BLOOD IN YOUR BED, BUDDY. ARE YOU OKAY??? IF YOU ATE SOMETHING IN BED THAT'S FINE I JUST DON'T WANT YOU TO BE INJURED. . . .
Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)
"...Did you cry? Your scent is all squeezy. How come?"
smelling you sad makes him sad too so tell him why you're feeling sad and he can make the sad go away?
Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)
"I wanna go to the cafeteria, but the teachers won't give me my pocket money. They said I'll get "spoiled." The hell does that mean?!"
GIVE HIM SOME MONEY SO HE CAN BUY FOOD???? HE NEEDS TO EAT????? HE'S BUSY WITH CLASS SO HE CAN'T GO ON MISSIONS YOU CAN'T JUST STARVE THE BOY????
Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)
"That moth-eaten Casanova told me humans like it if you ignore them sometimes. Something about playing hard to get? I'm gonna try it tomorrow."
I wonder if that has anything to do with Subaru's home screen chat where he wonders why Lyca hasn't messaged him back. . .he's trying to play hard to get because he thinks it'll make Subaru like him more. . . .
Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)
"I'll stay here and be quiet at night, even when the moon's not round. 'Cause you're tired, aren't you? Go sleep."
even if he doesn't have to stay or even if he wants to make lots of noise, he'll stay and be quiet so it's easier for you to fall asleep. He won't be loud and you don't have to worry about him! so sleep tight!
Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)
"Sleep here. Huh? Is there a law that says we can't sleep together? There's not, is there? Hurry up and lie down."
it's pretty much innocent. . .he just wants you close by. . .being able to smell you while he sleeps would probably make it easier to fall asleep. . .feel safe and familiar and everything. . . .
Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)
"I'm gonna work hard... I'll gonna work so hard, they're gonna say I can live with humans forever..."
Lyca, despite being a werewolf, is a lot like Kaito in that he just wants to be a normal human. Except he never started as a normal human, so he has a bit further of a distance to go to become one. . .he's not a dog, he doesn't wanna be a pet or an animal or anything like that. He wants to be a person like everyone else. But it's hard when others reject him, and when everyone says they think he's too dangerous even when he hasn't done anything wrong. Other ghouls--other humans--do way worse stuff than he does, and yet he's still held to a higher standard. It's not fair. But he's working as hard as he can to catch up. . . .
Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)
"That blond gigolo tried to wash my blanket! He's never coming in my room again!"
he does not like spring cleaning--
(between 11am and 4pm)
"Lately there's flower smells everywhere, but sometimes there's one that kinda smells like you."
IT'S GONNA BE HILARIOUS IF THE ANOMALY THAT CURSED YOU HAPPENS TO LIVE IN OBSCUARY'S FOREST. . .LIKE YEAH IT'S JUST OUT THERE IT WAS ALWAYS ON CAMPUS IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU WE COULD'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS CURE BEFORE YOU GOT IT.
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"Harurin kept nagging, so I went to the safari park. Not gonna lie...it was super fun."
I love that Lyca uses the nicknames Rui uses for some people lol and I bet he loved running around Jabberwock!!! All that fresh open air and the wildlife. . .he's a wolf at heart really and truly.
(between 8pm and 5am)
"Cherry blossom petals are super fun. They're like, whoosh, then they fall everywhere. I wish our house had some."
Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)
"Urgh... My head...it hurts... This? It's shaved ice. The blond gigolo told me to eat it so I don't get "heat eggs-aw-schun.""
oh buddy you're eating it too fast. . . . . .
(between 11am and 4pm)
"I was just in that moth-eaten Casanova's room and it was so cold I thought it was gonna snow! Is he secretly a yeti?"
okay it was only 63 degrees in there it wasn't THAT cold Lyca.
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"I'm gonna go practice swimming at Harurin's place. Can you do other stuff besides doggy paddle?"
I can't swim at all so. you are miles ahead of me my friend.
(between 8pm and 5am)
"I know I said I always wanted to do sparklers, but... you sure this's okay? I thought we're not s'posed to play with fire!"
canid instincts are kicking in--fire BAD and SCARY and DANGEROUS. ABORT MISSION.
Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)
"I just tried to join in with some guys playing with a ball, but they said I don't know the rules and told me to go away."
THEN TEACH HIM THE RULES god they're such jerks around here.
(between 11am and 4pm)
"Blond Gigolo was makin' this massive fire near the garden just now. It smelled all burnt and sweet... Is that some kinda ritual?"
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"Finished my picture. That Romi guy who comes to the bar all the time said he wanted one, so it's for him."
Romeo does like fine things. This just goes to show how good of an artist Lyca is! I bet Romeo's gonna frame it and put it somewhere people can see lol or maybe just keep it in his room. . .that or he wants to see if he can get him to make a forgery and profit off poor Lyca--
(between 8pm and 5am)
"Moth-eaten Casanova said humans like looking at the moon... D'you get sad if you can't see it?"
Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)
"I'm gonna go play at that big ice castle after class! Huh? 'Cause playing in the snow's fun."
THE FROSTHEIMERS BETTER NOT GIVE HIM TROUBLE LET MY BOY RUN AND ROMP IN THE SNOW!!!!!!!
(between 11am and 4pm)
"Mm, I don't really feel the cold. Humans get warm when they run around too, don't they? Race you over there! "
he is having so much fun in the winter ;;;;; just running around and playing. . . .
(between 4pm and 8pm)
"My fingers have been gettin' all tingly and stiff and my hair's all crunchy! What's up with that? "
maybe playing in the snow a little too much lol--
(between 8pm and 5am)
"How d'you drink hot drinks so quick? They always burn my tongue... Huh? Dogs have sensitive tongues? I'm a wolf, not a dog..."
His birthday: (April 19th)
"Oh right, it's my birthday. Neros told me my mom wrote down the date."
Your birthday:
"It's your birthday, right? No, I only know 'cause that blond gigolo was yelling about it. ...Here's your present."
I bet he drew something really nice or found you something really cool ;3;
New Years: (January 1st)
"Hope you have a happy and prop...props... prosp...prospinous? new year... Damn it, I practiced that for ages..."
Valentine's Day: (February 14th)
"Oh, thanks. Professor Nicolas said I can't eat chocolate, so I'll give it to Casanova and Gigolo!"
why would you even risk giving him chocolate in the first place lmao. . .also in Japanese he says "I'll share with those two idiots" instead of "casanova and gigolo" lmao
White Day: (March 14th)
"This is for you. I dunno what kinda stuff human girls like, but Suba helped me pick it, so it's prob'ly fine."
Subaru knows girls' tastes is Lyca's logic I guess lmao Subaru is a lil on the femme side comparatively--
April Fool's Day: (April 1st)
"Why's everyone being so mean today?! Telling lies and laughing at me... They're all jerks...!"
please explain the day to him. . .people are mean enough to him as it is. . . .
Halloween: (October 31st)
"My ears and tail are out? I know, I'm doing it on purpose. The moth-eaten Casanova said it's okay today."
THE ONE DAY HE CAN BE HIMSELF IS HALLOWEEN BECAUSE NO ONE WILL THINK ANYTHING OF IT. . .they'll just think it's a cool costume or maybe a fox robe! And he'll get candy for it!!!
Christmas: (December 25th)
"Hey, look! When I got up this present was next to my pillow! Santa really came..."
WHO TAUGHT HIM ABOUT SANTA. . .AND WHY. . .then again Romeo said Santa's reindeer is real so. . .it probably isn't actually harmful to teach him about Santa since Santa's probably somewhat real here. . . .
Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)
"...I'm going for a walk."
(13 affinity and above)
"Hey, you alive? Huh, you're breathing so I guess so."
Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)
"How come you stopped coming? Do you hate me? It made my heart all squeezy, so don't do it again."
oh no sweetie. . .sometimes we just have to take care of things and disappear without wanting to. . .sometimes life gets in the way instead of finding away. . . . . . . .
JUST. . .SWEETEST OF SWEETHEARTS. HE'S SO CHILDISH AND ADORABLE AND SWEET AND GOOD. . .I WILL USE MY TEN SECONDS OF PETTING TIME WISELY. He really does try harder than anyone, he's so determined and I believe in him so much. I want my boy to be happy.
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His Moral Loyalty
a/n: I adapted Mingi's little jealousy argument with Yunho for reader. I hope you felt the angst! I wrote the actual conversations between Yunho and Mingi in bold letters. Also, I didn't forget to write the second part of passion of punishment. Thank you for the interest you left in my inbox about that fic. And i don't know why i used cyberpunk theme, it was so irrelevant. AND Can you please find me another title for this?
tw: angst!!!!, jealous!Mingi, friends to maybe strangers, reader is very wrong here, lots of angst
wc: 2021
taglist: @aim-blossom @oddracha @bambisd0ll @peqchplvto (I love you guys so much♡)
“I can’t believe you.” You were sure Mingi was really exaggerating and twisting things, but somehow he still managed to make you feel guilty. His voice was low, emotional, and shaky as he tried not to make eye contact, looking down at the floor instead. He felt as if his entire world had collapsed around him. Yes, he knew you loved him as a friend, but it still hurt him deeply that you weren’t prioritizing him. "For God's sake, Mingi, why are you upset about it?" You finished applying eyeshadow and closed the eyeshadow palette angrily. It was like you were constantly dealing with a child, a child who couldn't share his mother with his siblings. You felt your patience wearing thin, and without realizing it, the nails of your fist were digging into your palms. He was rocking back and forth in place, still trying to digest what he perceived as your ‘betrayal’.
"I mean... I mean why?" you stammered, thinking that your previous tone of voice was too harsh and loud, you decided to soften your approach. This time, you tried to talk to him gently, hoping not to scare him. You took a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself down. On the other hand, you were still trying to continue with your makeup, meticulously applying highlighter and blending it evenly. You glanced at him in the mirror, noticing the conflicted emotions written all over his face. “I asked you to go to dinner together first.” You were used to your best friend being jealous of your other friends. But this time, Mingi looked truly hurt. He had wanted to take you to this dinner so badly, he had finally mustered up the courage to tell you he loved you and jeopardize your friendship, but the 'I'm sorry Min, I promised Woo' text from you had ruined all of his plans and destroyed his motivation. He had been planning this dinner date for weeks, imagining how he would confess his feelings to you over a candlelit dinner, hoping you would feel the same way.
Were you provoking him by wearing make up in front of him? Yes. Were you going to wear his favorite cement-colored mini dress in front of him for Wooyoung? Also yes. Why? Because Mingi wouldn’t leave you alone and you wanted to annoy him in your own way. So that he can leave you alone for a bit and let you have fun with your other friends. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, seeing the pain in his eyes, but you were determined to make your point. The tension between you two had been building for a while, and you were both too stubborn to back down. "Woo made a promise with his friends. We'll all go together. I don't go out to dinner alone with him." You took one last look at your makeup in the mirror, ensuring every detail was perfect, and got up from your makeup table to look at your phone, saw that you had a text from Wooyoung.
“All right, that’s how you do it.” You were about to open the messages when Mingi’s annoying tone got on your nerves again. “You're starting to get jealous again, do you realize that-?”
“It’s not jealousy.” He waved his hands at you in frustration. “I’m not jealous, this is...” It was cute how he spoke to you without ever making eye contact, stumbling over his words. “What then? Are you upset?” The phone in your hand was still waiting for the new messages from Wooyoung to open. He had probably left home and was coming to your house to pick you up.
As Mingi tried to carefully choose what to say, his emotional breakdown and frustration caused the words to come out of his mouth on their own. “I prioritize relationships with people.” This time, he was looking into your eyes with such intensity and depth, as if he was trying to convey unspoken feelings. He was completely focused on you, his gaze unwavering. “And you abandoned my moral loyalty.” he said, his voice filled with a mix of pain and accusation.
The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, making the moment feel even more intense. Your eyes were wide. You knew that Mingi felt emotions deeply, but you hadn’t guessed that he felt them this deeply. Also, the fact that he expressed how he felt showed that his patience had reached its limit and he couldn’t hold his emotions in anymore. "Mingi, it was a simple plan. He planned it and I said okay, why are you making it such a big deal?" All your attention was now on Mingi, whose eyes were on the verge of tears. He had cried in front of you before, but it wasn't because of you. “I planned it since I was in the 9th grade of middle school!” Mingi could no longer control his words and his shaking body. The accumulated admiration of all those years and the thought that you valued Wooyoung more than him caused him to lose control of his words and let them come out of his mouth on their own. You were surprised by his words and didn't understand. What was he planning?
“Plan what?” The room was filled with the sounds of Wooyoung’s incoming text messages and Mingi’s shaky breathing. The tension in the room was palpable, almost suffocating.
“Everything I do with you.” His eyes followed your voice, which came out in a quiet and timid tone, as he turned away from you again. He made up a lie because he couldn't share his plan to tell you he loved you, which he had been planning for years.
You froze for a few seconds, trying to process his words. He planned everything? Hadn't you already done so many things together over the years? What else could he possibly have planned? A multitude of thoughts raced through your mind. “Mingi, you spend a lot of time with me. What more do you want?” You said, your voice tinged with confusion and curiosity. Mingi bowed his head this time, a gesture that seemed to carry the weight of his feelings. “So you forgot how precious it is because we spend a lot of time together and you’re so used to it?”
He was right. What he said was very impressive and cut deep into your conscience. You didn't have an answer to that because, yes, you sometimes forgot. Your 7-year friendship was starting to seem very ordinary and boring to you, but you always cared about Mingi. His recent overly obsessive behavior was making you distance yourself from him.You began to reflect on the many moments you had shared. The late-night talks, the shared secrets, the laughter, and even the arguments. Each memory now seemed to carry a different weight, a different significance. Mingi's words had opened a door to a part of your past that you had overlooked. You realized how much he had invested in this friendship, how much he had planned and cherished every moment.
It was clear that his feelings went beyond mere friendship, and it pained you to see him so distressed. The room felt colder, the silence more pronounced, as you struggled to find the right words to say. You knew that whatever came next would change the dynamics of your relationship forever. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your thoughts, and prepared yourself for the conversation that lay ahead. “What are you saying? Of course you are precious to me.” You weren’t lying; he was still precious to you. He just seemed like a different person lately, someone unfamiliar yet still dear. His usual self, the Mingi you knew, would jump up and down with excitement whenever he heard a compliment from you, flashing his big, goofy smile that you adored. But right now, he wasn’t reacting at all, his expression vacant and distant.
“I mean, is it wrong to go out to dinner with my other friends?” you asked, turning your head to look at Mingi. You saw him leaning against the door frame, his eyes scanning you up and down. "Of course it's not wrong, what's wrong is that you don't prioritize me," he replied, trying so hard not to let the words he really wanted to say slip out. If you pushed his buttons a little more, he could confess that he loved you at any moment.
"I have always prioritized you over my friends throughout my life. I can't stay stuck with you for the rest of my life, Mingi," you responded. You have made countless mistakes in your life, but the mistake you just made was the worst. You wish you could turn back time by 3 seconds and not say those two sentences. You didn't mean to hurt him on purpose; his childish jealousy just got on your nerves, and you wanted to get on his nerves too.There was silence for about 10 seconds. In those 10 seconds, Mingi was broken, never to be mended again. He tried to collect himself, his body seemed to be speaking and moving on its own. He could feel the weight of your words pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. Just as Mingi opened his mouth to say something, he was interrupted by a call from Wooyoung.
“Woo? Ok, I'm going downstairs.” You didn’t want to make eye contact with Mingi as you hung up the phone and picked up your bag from your bed. You knew you had disappointed him, hurt him, but you couldn’t always depend on him. You had other friends, and you were starting to get close to Wooyoung, and you didn’t want anyone to come between you and Wooyoung when everything was starting to go so well. Yes, this thought was very selfish and you were betraying Mingi, but still, falling in love was a very different and complicated feeling.
You could feel Mingi’s eyes on you, filled with unspoken words and emotions. As you walked out, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was a turning point, one that might change everything between you two. You glanced back at him, feeling a pang of guilt. "I’m sorry, Mingi. We’ll talk later, I promise.” He didn’t respond, merely nodding with a vacant look in his eyes. He remained where he was, his silence speaking volumes about his hurt and disappointment. There was no attempt to stop you, no plea to stay—just a quiet acceptance of your leaving, as if he had expected it all along.
You closed the door softly behind you, leaving Mingi alone in the room, feeling the chill of the empty space you left behind. As you walked to meet Wooyoung, you could still feel the weight of his unspoken sorrow pressing heavily on you, a constant reminder of the pain you had caused. The night air was cool and crisp, but it did nothing to soothe the guilt gnawing at your conscience.
You thought about the times Mingi had been there for you, supporting you through thick and thin, always a steady presence in your life. No matter what you did, at the end of the day, Mingi would always be there for you. But this time, when you got home at who knows what time at night, Mingi wouldn’t be there waiting for you. The realization hit you hard, making your steps falter. The thought of returning to an empty house, devoid of his comforting presence, filled you with a deep sense of loss. You knew that things would never be the same again, and the path you had chosen was leading you further away from the one person who had always been your anchor.
a/n: You guys used to leave me lots of feedback. I miss those times TT_TT
#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez x you#ateez x y/n#ateez angst#song mingi x reader#song mingi#song mingi angst#mingi ateez#mingi x reader#mingi#mingi angst#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop angst#kpop fanfic#ateez fanfic#ateez fic
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Love is Stored in the Cat: A Nepeta Leijon Character Study
I guess these are a series now! I also have a request for Feferi in my inbox that I'll get around to eventually.
SO! Dear, sweet Nepeta.
Nepeta is the troll that is most against the existence of the hemocaste.
I believe the Ultimate Self speech was originally going to be from her, not Davepetasprite^2.
She's bad at shipping.
These all make her extremely impurrtant!!!
So furst of all, I'm going to start with the same disclaimer as my Eridan essay (go read that first!!! It sets up a lot of ideas that I'm expanding on here), which is that the things Hussie says are going to be lowered in value, because he likes to play coy about plot stuff. I'm also not counting anything but the actual text as canon, and even with in that text, I'm counting everything after GAME OVER as soft canon - a suggestion of what would have been, often truncated for time, often a deliberate middle finger to the shitty fandom.
Okay, so with that squared away!
Nepeta Says Fuck The Hemocaste
I'm not going to bother doing a deep dive on Nepeta's characterization, because fur the most part, I think the fandom more or less gets her right - she wears her heart (h33h33) on her sl33ve, after all! She's a very sweet little catgirl who loves roleplay and shipping, who is also a vicious hunter of wild beasts and lives in a cave. She's very nice and friendly, but has a tough streak and a spine.
She also says fuck the hemocaste, why does that even exist:
CT: D --> Your fraternization with the base classes have 100sened your morals, can't you see this AC: :33 < no! i dont care, they are fun AC: :33 < and i dont know anything about classes or bases or blood color, it doesn't matter! AC: :33 < what does gr33n blood even mean! it doesnt mean anything to me and it shouldnt mean anything to anyone else!
This is a radical stance not outright shared by any of the other trolls. Aradia calls highbloods "hateful sn0bs" that she and Tavros shouldn't have "ever had anything t0 d0 with", the highbloods are, of course, all casteist to varying degrees, and even Karkat seems fairly accepting of the class divide, at one point taunting Vriska that her rejection from the blue team is "ANOTHER INFURIATING VICTORY FOR GUTTER BLOOD OVER ARISTOCRACY". Not to mention his long-held dream of becoming a threshecutioner.
Even Feferi, despite saying to Eridan that "W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!!", is actually perfectly comfortable with the caste system's existence, comparing having to stop using her royal typing quirk to "peasant-IFICATING" herself - and let's not forget that a Beforus under her rule had its caste system 100% intact.
This means that Nepeta is the ONLY troll who has said, in no uncertain terms, that the caste system should not exist. It's stupid, it's bad, and it doesn't meowtter!
AND SHE'S RIGHT.
But she's never able to fully express this opinion, which brings us to:
A COMPLICKATED RELATIONSHIP WITH EQUIUS
Now, before I say anything, I must insist that I do believe these two work as good moirails. That does not, however, stop them from being 13, and therefore, being poor to each other the way 13-year-olds sometimes are. I don't think they should break up; I think they should re-examine certain dynamics, and I think they need some space to breathe apart from each other.
Equius has a lot of problems, which I won't get into overmuch here, because... that's a whole essay on its own (are you people seeing a trend yet). But with regards to Nepeta specifically, he's extremely controlling and protective, to the point where she's a little scared of him before the game begins:
AC: :33 < well it does sound like it will be a lot of fun but i think i should get purrmission first GC: BL4R!!!!! GC: TH4TS SO STUP1D GC: H3S NOT TH3 BOSS OF YOU AC: :33 < i know! AC: :33 < but still im kind of scared of him and i think purrhaps its best to just run it by him first so there isnt a kerfuffle about it or anything
She's also afraid to tell him about her crush on Karkat, since she knows he doesn't like Karkat:
AC: :33 < well AC: :33 < i have never told anybody this not even my moirail AC: :33 < heh, actually hes the LAST guy i might tell, he so wouldnt appurrve X33 AC: :33 < but yes i have liked somebody for quite some time, but alas he doesnt know it
By the time they end their game, she's gotten over this fear, seeing as she spends many hours curled up with Equius in a pile of robotics parts, but it still must be noted that they have some issues in their relationship that were never resolved, primarily on Equius's end. What this means for Nepeta, however, is that in addition to setting her up as the most outright anti-classism troll, the comic sets her up to be socially isolated due to her moirail's paranoia about letting her associate with both lowbloods (seeing them as bad influences) OR other highbloods, seeing them as dangerous.
He's not entirely wrong - his refusal to allow her to participate in FLARP kept her from winding up entangled in the horrible chain of revenge, as Tavros alludes:
AT: iT'S PROBABLY FOR THE BEST, AT: tHAT YOU LISTEN TO HIM, AC: :33 < i dont know AC: :33 < you think so? AT: wELL, AT: iF YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO HIM BEFORE, AT: yOU MIGHT HAVE PLAYED GAMES WITH US BEFORE, AT: aND SOMETHING BAD MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU, AC: :33 < hmm purrhaps
But he's still wrong. And it's probably an uncontrolled manifestation of his Heir of Void abilities - he's both consciously and unconsciously hiding her from other people.
This isn't to say she doesn't stand up for herself! Many of her discussions with Equius are pseudo-arguments, and she does get her way often enough, managing to get him to roleplay with her, and managing to get him back in the roboti% pile to talk about his feelings about Aradia. She also talks to the humans explicitly against Equius's orders, although she's keeping it a sneakret from him:
NEPETA: :33 < but equius already furbid me from doing that :(( NEPETA: :33 < not that i am listening to him, but shhhhh! :33 KARKAT: WAIT, HE DID? KARKAT: OK, THEN AS YOUR LEADER I ORDER YOU TO RP WITH THEM AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. BE AS OBNOXIOUS ABOUT IT AS YOU CAN. NEPETA: :33 < yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
But the fact that she has to tiptoe around him like this speaks to them having issues in their relationship that go unexamined and unresolved, especially since it's clear that Nepeta really would like to be friends with more people, were Equius not getting in her way. So, even though I do think they are good moirails for each other - they clearly genuinely, deeply care about one another. But they could use some relationship counselling.
In fact, Jasprosesprite^2 outright calls her lonely:
JASPROSESPRITE^2: Or the girl who likes ships! Cause they made her less lonely. ;3
So, she's anti-hemocaste and lonely, two character traits that were set up and never resolved. And beclaws this is Nepeta, in her honor, I'm going to talk about a third:
Her Unrequited Crush On Karcat
She has the BIGGEST flushed crush on Karkat. It's seen on her shipping wall twice, once with the word OTP on it.
And, despite never discussing it with her moirail, Nepeta mentions it once to Jaspersprite, and once to Jasprosesprite^2.
Now, I'm not really here to debate on the validity of KatNep - I think it's fine, even if I don't personally ship it, and don't personally think it would work out (there are lots of indications that they wouldn't work out, including Jasprosesprite^2 outright saying so). However, her crush on Karkat is both complicated and creates some interesting setups for her character. I am going to discuss it fairly critically either way, so KatNep shippers have been warned.
A lot of her feelings about Karkat - and about shipping in general - wind up being heavily interlinked with her status as a Hero of Heart, so I'm going to expand on it more there. But what I will note in this section is the fact that, despite Nepeta insisting twice that she doesn't think Karkat knows about her crush on her:
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < it was karkat NEPETASPRITE: :33 < but i never told him and im pretty sure he never found out how i felt!
He tooootally did:
KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME. KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK?
Interpret that how you will for shipping purposes, but I want to propose that this is a reflection of their statuses as Heart and Blood players. Heart, despite its players' obsessions with romance, is not the romance aspect, Blood is. Karkat displays this very same romantic acumen when he tells Dave that he's known Terezi and Gamzee were a thing for a long time, despite everyone else on the meteor trying to keep it a secret from him. Heart is, instead, about identity, feelings, motivations, souls, and self. In other words:
Nepeta Is Kind Of Bad At Shipping
Let's take a look at those shipping walls.
Let's break this down a little. Nepeta's ships are not entirely wrong, but even the successful ones are kind of wrong. Here's what I mean. We've already discussed how Equius and Nepeta's moirallegiance has some... issues in it. If we go down her list of ships that actually do happen, most of them have some issues in them!
Aradia expresses her regret for getting together with Equius in the Ministrife. Kanaya and Rose suffer some major relationship problems when Rose starts drinking, to the point Karkat feels a need to step in as an auspice. Karkat and Gamzee fail, as Karkat is not calmed by Gamzee, and Gamzee stops listening to Karkat. And while Sollux and Feferi seem to be fairly healthy, after they both wind up in the Furthest Ring, he's pretty much always next to Aradia - he and Feferi don't even get to exchange words with each other once they're in the Furthest Ring. Purrsonally, I think he and Feferi are meant to end up as moirails, but shhhh.
So what's happening here? Well, this goes back to her identity as a Heart player. Heart is concerned with feelings and motivations.
They simply want to understand the one thing we all are stuck with for our entire lives, i.e. our own minds. Forging an identity is extremely important to the Heart-bound, and every decision and action goes toward building a coherent narrative of their own story. That isn't to say Heart-bound don't care deeply for their friends and allies; they just have a tendency to assume that everyone is as concerned with identity as they are.
Nepeta's shipping has also been associated with her isolation and loneliness. When you put this together, it implies that Nepeta's shipping is about her desire to understand others, and much of her ships are based on one of the parties having feelings, regardless of compatibility, feasibility, or broader implications. After all, despite the fact that she has pretty terrible romantic acumen, she IS able to instinctively identify that Eridan's advances toward her were insincere:
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < well ok i guess eridan hit on me a few times NEPETASPRITE: :33 < but his advances always struck me as cr33py and insincere
And that Karkat secretly LOVES and RESPECTS his friends:
JASPROSESPRITE^2: On the contrary Nepeta. You deserve someone who will RESPECT and ADORE you. NEPETASPRITE: :33 < well... yes NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i always hoped to find someone like that some day NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i dunno maybe youre right but in spite of whatever problems he might have i always felt like i saw something in him that made me think he could be that purrson!
Or knowing that Equius loves to play games, and still feels sad about Aradia exploding:
AC: :33 < i s33 right through your stupid act, who are you trying to kid! AC: :33 < look how you go out of your way to use words that have x's in them so that you can use your silly purrcent signs AC: :33 < or use these absurd words that you can shoehorn a '100' into, even if its not strictly replacing 'loo'!!! AC: :33 < you are so transpurrent AC: :33 < i can tell you like to play games, d33p down you are a guy who likes to play games! AC: :33 < i can smell a guy who likes to play games from so fur away with this nose, you have no idea X33
NEPETA: :33 < she was so happy, just like she used to be, and she said she would s33 you soon! EQUIUS: D --> That's a nice thought, and thank you for sharing it EQUIUS: D --> But it was only a dream, and will surely have no consequence in reality NEPETA: :33 < equius? NEPETA: :33 < are those f33lings i an detecting with my wiggly whiskery nose? EQUIUS: D --> Maybe
Because feelings, and not relationships, are her actual domain.
And speaking of Heart powers...
Nepeta and the Ultimate Self
So from this point forward, I'm going to assume you're more or less agreeing with my take that at some point after Game Over, Hussie - for whatever reason - gave up on his original ending, and wound up truncating his ideas so he could finish the comic faster. I go more into detail about that here.
So, in this hypothetical original ending, I firmly believe that the speech about the Ultimate Self would have come from Nepeta. First, let's take a look at what the "Ultimate Self" entails, as it appears within the comic:
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < everything that ever happens to every version of you is an important part of your ultimate self... like a superceding bodyless and timeless persona that crosses the boundaries of paradox space and unlike god tiers or bubble ghosts or whatever, it really IS immortal DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but in your physical form there are all these partitions in your mind that prevent you from remembering any of that which makes your existence f33l totally linear DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < which is probably for the best! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < in a regular body s33ing all that would be too overwhelming ... DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and after it sinks in for a while you start coming to this understanding of a greater self DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < maybe i "got it" quicker though because of the two people i was and their aspects DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < understanding heart is all about the nuances of a distributed self DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nepeta never got to make much headway with her aspect but shes finally gettin the chance DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < the time aspect is all about running into different versions of yourself so you kinda get confronted with it in a really literal way that can be disturbing DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < obviously davesprite stuggled with that too, but now its fine DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < hes fr33 from worrying about it all and what it means for his place in reality DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < because he can s33 now all his selves have relevance in painting the full picture of who he truly is DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < im not COMPLETELY sure because im not like some sort of ASPECT MASTER but DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < my avian slash feline intuition tells me that all roads will lead you here eventually DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < gaining the d33pest possible understanding of any aspect will bring you to the same final conclusion about your ultimate self
Now, I believe - and I hope you'll agree - that it's kind of lame, narratively, for Davesprite to have been set up with so much angst about not being the "real Dave," and for Nepeta to have all her issues with loneliness and shyness, and for these two specific iterations of each other to have never interacted, but suddenly getting double-prototyped fixes all of their problems, and they achieve Ultimate Selfhood despite being two total strangers to each other. So let's instead break down the more salient points about what Ultimate Selfhood entails, divorced from the fact that it's Davepetasprite^2 doing the narrating:
Every player in the game possesses an "Ultimate Self," an ultimate culmination of all their experiences and memories, specifically referred to as a "persona"
Normally, people are not aware of this, because it would be too overwhelming to deal with so many memories and iterations of each other.
Everyone will achieve Ultimate Selfhood eventually as the final culmination of their understanding of their aspect.
Heart is all about the nuances of a distributed self.
Let's talk about that last one some more, and by that I mean, let's see what Calliope has to say about it:
TT: I don't know why it had to be this way for me. Juggling these two waking selves at once. TT: I guess I'm used to it, but it still makes for a pretty intense existence. TT: Do you even know what the deal with that is? Like is there any precedent in your readings? UU: i don't know aboUt precedent, bUt it makes plenty of sense to me as the type of path one might expect for a hero of heart. UU: a path rUled by the heart aspect can be a joUrney of splintered self. UU: that is, the player's being may exhibit the same kind of fragmentation which certain classes coUld caUse in others. UU: i think this is what has triggered yoUr dUal-awareness between waking and dream selves, thoUgh it woUld not sUrprise me if the symptoms manifested in even more ways than this.
Now, Dirk has a clawmplicated relationship with his alternate selves, given that he's a Prince, but Nepeta wouldn't have the same struggles, or at least, not to the same degree. The problem is, hampered by Equius and her own shyness about discussing her thoughts and feelings with others:
NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i get so shy and worried what people might think of me if i say how i f33l NEPETASPRITE: :33 < im always so scared that they wont f33l the same way or just think im stupid or pathetic or something
She never actually gets to explore this part of herself.
But What If... She Did?
The way I imagine the original ending going is that each troll that gets saved by John's interference in the timeline then asks John to help them fix their own mistakes, thereby saving somebody else. Each successive trip through the meteor brings new character development, and also riddles the comic with progressively more password pages, which I think would be really funny. And throughout all this the Game Over team is searching for Vriska, Meenah, and the treasure, and resolving their arcs that way, so it's not like they would be replaced - they're the ones who get to kill LE. The process, in my mind, goes like this:
Terezi asks John to save Vriska, and prevent her from getting too spades with Gamzee, as these are her two greatest regrets.
Vriska obviously had great regrets about killing Tavros, both pre- and post-retcon, so she asks for his death to be prevented.
Tavros staying alive means that he and Gamzee wind up hashing out some stuff - Gamzee mentions that he feels "So aT ChIlL WiTh yOu" while talking to Tavros, and Tavros reciprocates the friendship and also - interestingly - acknowledges Gamzee's religion, calling it beautiful even if he doesn't necessarily believe in it. This is interesting because Karkat's inability to do so is explicitly one of the reasons their moirallegiance broke down. So having Tavros back, alive, means that he and Gamzee would likely end up in some sort of relationship, probably pale despite flushed leanings, and would bring Gamzee back into the fold.
Gamzee would then be like, yeah, wow, that time I killed Nepeta and Equius was pretty bad, huh? Especially since his decision to hang onto his friends' bodies and prototype them is often interpreted as him genuinely feeling bad about his dead friends (he tells Kurloz to shut up when Kurloz mentions all the dead friends, and his religion seems to be about a paradise he wants to share with his friends anyway). So he'd ask John to prevent him from killing them, resulting in the two of them getting to live.
Things get much more hypothetical from here, since so much of the character dynamics would have changed, but I think by this point, Equius might command ask John to let him say goodbye to Aradiabot before she explodes, which he expresses feeling very sad about. However, in doing so, John and Aradiabot end up in the same room, and when she realizes that he has the ability to change the timeline without repercussions, she'd seize him by the arm and demand that he take her back in time, to before she died. After all, she expresses regrets about her reckless actions, and how she always felt like it was all one big setup.
She would take Aradia's place in the Vriska revenge chain, being once more freed of her robot chassis, and from there, would trick Doc Scratch and the Handmaiden into thinking everything was still going according to their designs. Meanwhile, Alive!Aradia would be hanging out at Equius's place, borrowing his void powers to avoid notice, coordinating a new timeline that keeps the beats of the original (too much deviation causes unpredictability, and an paradox'd timeline offshoot without John's direct interference would still become doomed), but allows them greater freedom and the ability to overcome the machinations of Doc Scratch and associates.
This would also prevent Sollux from becoming so self-loathing, since it's no longer "his fault" that Aradia dies, although he winds up in that hole again after Feferi gets killed. Now that his Aradia is alive, he wouldn't feel like he might as well stay in the bubbles because his closest companions are there, so he'd make it to the end, and would ask John to prevent Feferi's death.
Eridan still dies; he's so disconnected and isolated from all his friends that his course of actions is largely unaffected even by everybody else's timeline tweaks. But before Feferi can suggest bringing him back, Karkat would butt in.
The Friendship Troll should be the one to demand that ALL of their friends be revived, especially if they had everyone except only one guy, and Karkat and Eridan are heavily implied to be moirails anyway. The course of Karkat's fixes are so comprehensive, and primarily romance-based, that the end result of this final loop is everybody not only being alive, but god-tiered, with appropriate character development.
Now, where Nepeta's Heart powers would play into all of this is that she would start to notice something going on. After all, Heart players are sensitive to their splintered selves, and (Nepeta) is probably much closer to Nepeta than regular doomed timeline offshoots. As the loops continue, and Nepeta has more and more time to talk to people, and meets her dead alternate selves, and even meets (Nepeta), she starts to awaken to her Ultimate Self - to come into possession of alternate memories.
And if the Ultimate Self is a very soul-y kind of concept, such that Heart players have a natural advantage in coming to understand it, then isn't it a natural fit that a Rogue of Heart - one who steals from Heart or steals Heart for others - would be naturally inclined to share the wisdom of her alternate selves, and even the very concept of the Ultimate Self, with her friends?
Because the Ultimate Self is actually, in my opinion, a pretty good narrative device. It turns the sadness of the dead and doomed timelines into something littersweet instead, and makes it so any weirdness regarding time travel and not really knowing your friends anymore will eventually be resolved, even if off-screen.
It's not really narratively satisfying when Davepetasprite^2 suddenly comes into being and reaches enlightenment, but imagine if instead it's a post-character development Nepeta comforting Davesprite on his relevance, or Jade on her loneliness, or John on not really knowing these new post-retcon versions of his friends? It would feel a lot better, since in this hypothetical, she would have reached that point after on-screen character development. Being able to share her true self with her friends on the meteor - by necessity, since what else are they going to be doing for three years - leads to her finally being able to fulfill her role as a Rogue of Heart.
Also, at some point during these repeated meteor trips, she dates Karkat (whether that's successful or not, I'll leave to reader interpretation - you already know where I stand), fulfilling Jaspersprite's musing that she might only be able to date Karkat after she dies.
So that's two out of thr33 of her outstanding plot hooks resolved... okay. So, I try not to make these essays into ship propaganda, but hear me out:
Hate Is Stored In The FefNep
Okay, so, remember that thing about how Feferi is actually a huge casteist hypocrite? Well, let's also note that the comic, post-Murderstuck, seems to put Nepeta and Feferi together a lot - they're a Commodore and Rear Admiral in the ghost pirate army, respectively, and they also wind up as Fefetasprite. So I think it's not entirely out of left field to say that these two were implied to have SOMETHING going on.
And that something... is a difference in political views.
I mean, let's be real, there's a reason Fefetasprite is the most explode-prone after Tavrisprite. Miss "The Hemocaste is Stupid and Shouldn't Matter" vs. Miss "I Love Being A Princess And Call Jade Hornless and Finless (Derogatory)"? Come on, tell me you don't see it.
Without getting too much into Feferi, this hypocrisy, and unwillingness to check her privilege (so glad I found an excuse to use that term unironically), are probably her greatest character flaws - ie, the things you would expect the story to address about her. Meanwhile, one of Nepeta's flaws, which she laments to Jasproseprite^2, is that she feels too shy to talk about her feelings to other people, leading to her having never expressed her views on the hemocaste to anyone but Equius.
I think that they initially think they'd be friends. Each one of them would go "oh man, this other girl is soooo cute, I wish I could talk to her more often!"
And then, once they do, they realize they fucking hate each other. Nepeta would go "X00 < you are such a hypocrite who f33ls like youre better than all of us!!!" and Feferi would go "You're suc)( an uneducated glubbing P-EASANT! 3X0" and then they'd claw each others' eyes out. It would be so funny, and if a homestuck ship isn't extremely fucking funny, then why are we even here.
But more importantly, this would further them along into resolving each others' arcs - Feferi would be forced to grapple with the greater implications of classism, and Nepeta - who is shown having a spine the most in defiance of somebody else - would grow more aggressive about being open about her feelings in defiance of Feferi. Even Equius would get roped into it in a positive way - you can just imagine him going "D --> Can I really believe my auricular sponge clots D --> Nepeta, you are finally taking interest in politi%" and be 100% on board with teaching her so Feferi won't be able to call her uneducated.
And then for flushed, I dunno! Karkat's an option, and Jade and Jake also both love the fuck out of furries, and Tavros seems nice. But yeah I'll die on the fefnep hate ship. Guys it would be so funny.
Thank you as always for reading! Let me know if there's a troll you want to hear me ramble about next.
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rookie mistake
dottore x m!reader
Request: Requests are open right? I hope so 🤞 Would I be able to ask for a sub!(male/amab)reader X dom!dottore? With some blackmail and coercion, preferably leaning towards dubious consent but I’m am a-ok with non-con elements, with a fatui/subordinate reader? If you could add in a small scene of him continuing while talking with someone outside the door that’s be awesome 😎 - Anonymous
Synopsis: You accidentally invade Dottore's office in search of intel.
a/n -> yall i know that i said i was on the fence about writing for genshin, but it was dottore and i love him plus i really liked this idea despite it having collected dust in my inbox for decades. whoever requested this: i love your mind and im so sorry it took me forever to decide to write this!! but just a reminder to whoever sees this, i will not be writing for fontaine unless stated otherwise!!
wc -> 3.6k
cw -> non-con, blackmail, coercion, blowjob, deepthroat, literally getting caught, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex, standing doggy position, fatuus/infiltrator reader, guys he calls you a rat because you're a spy, not beta read
Your job was straightforward. But it was also one of the most grueling missions you've ever been assigned to.
With your status as an elite spy, you were tasked with infiltrating the Fatui as one of their ranks to gather information regarding the locations and purposes of specific forts to prevent potential attacks and keep the organization from acquiring knowledge valuable to their cause.
There was absolutely no room for error, lest you get caught and pay for that mistake with your life.
Fortunately enough, the mask everyone was required to wear (with the exception of the Harbingers) concealed your identity, allowing you to execute your orders with relative ease. Of course, it wasn't completely simple. You had to fight your way up the ranks in order to even get a hint of the plan from your superiors, which took years to even get recognized for your efforts.
Several times have you had to go against your moral compass. Several times, you doubted your abilities and questioned if you were even making a dent in the Fatui's plans. Although, when you heard a faint argument due to a lack of resources, you knew you were on the right track.
But one day, you noticed that an agent's office door was left unlocked. There was no one in the hallways, and not a soul knew that you had stolen an important document that recorded data for some valuable supply that you didn't care enough to read about.
Making sure you tucked the paper deep inside your coat pocket, you strained your ears to ensure you were alone before taking the risk and entering the isolated office. It looked like your standard room. Boring, silent, and strangely barren of many decorations. You took a moment to inspect the area before deciding to take a step forward when your blood suddenly ran cold.
"I don't use this office very often," a voice said from behind you. You just about jumped out of your skin, swiveling your head to the person behind you. It took you a moment to put a face to the name you'd heard so many times before, but when you did, you quickly regretted your decision to search for any additional information. "But even so, don't you think it's rude to invade someone's personal space?"
You froze, unable to find the right words. Nothing could explain why you were currently snooping around in an office that wasn't yours—much, much less when it belonged to the Second of the Eleven Harbingers.
You inwardly cursed your naive eagerness to do more than you were asked. Your years of experience as a spy should've kept you from making such a rookie mistake, and now all your work was going down the drain.
The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, fighting the urge to fidget at the overwhelming feeling of his gaze on you, analyzing your appearance. He broke the silence with a hum, neither intrigued nor entirely disappointed.
"I have heard others spread rumors of a mole within our ranks but thought nothing more of their words as an excuse for their inability to secure our resources," Dottore mused, raising a hand to his chin. "I assume that the mole is you?"
You couldn't bring yourself to reply. Your throat was dry, and your stomach twisted into knots. Not that he cared.
"I must applaud your efforts," he said, a slight smirk decorating his pale face. "Not many people evade our eyes so easily, and for as long as you have."
"But, a word of advice—" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar device. He presented it to you, watching in amusement when you suddenly patted yourself down before looking back up towards him. It was the device you used to contact your organization. "—Make sure you clean up after yourself. It's impolite to leave your items lying around."
You don't remember dropping it or forgetting it somewhere. But that didn't matter anymore. You were stuck in the present with no way of getting out of this situation.
He flipped the device over, dully inspecting it as he continued talking. "After going through your data log, it wasn't hard figuring out what you were going for next. While this normally wouldn't spark any interest in me, this resource just so happens to be vital in my current experiment, and I can't have you tampering with my results."
He walked forward, stopping just a few feet in front of you. He was close enough for you to inhale his scent of sterile rubbing alcohol and metal. It made your nose burn as you watched him intently, tensing and fighting the urge to back away out of fear of angering him somehow. The document in your pocket felt unusually heavy.
"Although, I didn't expect such a seasoned spy like yourself to make such an amateur move," he hummed, ignoring your need for personal space to pull your mask off. And you were helpless against it all. "[Name] [L.Name], is it? Why don't you read the paper you have right now?"
That's when you knew you fucked up big time.
With a shaky hand, you reached into your coat pocket to pull out the report, unfolding it only to realize that it wasn't a report at all. It was a blank piece of paper. But you could've sworn there was writing on it when you grabbed it earlier!
He could see the confusion on your face clear as day as a laugh left his lips, tapping a rolled-up piece of parchment on the tip of your nose to regain your attention. "I believe this is what you're after." With a flick of his wrist, he unfurled the paper that contained everything you needed.
"What—" you gasped, briefly staring at your paper before looking back up.
"It's a shame you didn't think to check the ink before you took it," he said, faux disappointment laced in his voice before it reverted back to its normal tone just as fast. "The ink 'disappears' when subjected to anything higher than room temperature. When you put it in your pocket, your body heat, coupled with the insulation from your coat, affected the writing and turned it invisible."
Fuck.
He planned this out.
You swallowed nervously, taking a deep inhale to steel your nerves, even when it didn't do much to help you. "How... how long have you known?" you couldn't help but ask.
"Not long, really," Dottore casually replied, as if he didn't hold your entire life in the palm of his hand. "I caught you just in time."
"Now," he said with a voice that demanded your attention. Not that he needed to try, anyway. His very presence was almost impossible to ignore. "I'm willing to offer you two options. One, I hand this device over to one of my lovely agents and have them torture you for answers then promptly dispose of you. Or, two—" He waved the communicator in the air, taunting you. "—I have you make it up to me."
It was obvious which one you'd be more tempted to accept, but you knew that accepting an offer such as this from Dottore, of all people, was not a good idea. He knows he has you right where he wants you.
"The second one. I... I'll make it up to you." The words tasted like acid as you forced them out, watching a pleased smirk rise on his face.
"Good," he muttered mostly to himself. Leisurely, he turned around and walked towards the door, shutting it before refocusing back on you.
"Get on your knees," he ordered, placing his hands behind his back as he waited for you to move. He observed silently as you obeyed, staring at the floor in shame. "Crawl to me."
He sighed impatiently upon seeing the conflicted and perplexed expression on your face. "You want to be a rat so badly, don't you? So get down and crawl to me like one."
You were given no choice but to comply despite the absurdity of his request. Hanging your head, you inched forward as the cold, wooden floors painfully dug into your knees, stopping once the sight of his boots came into view. You held back a flinch when you heard the fabric of his clothes rustle as he leaned down to lift your head up by your hair, forcing you to your knees.
Instantly, your eyes zeroed in on the prominent bulge in Dottore's pants, making you painfully aware of what he wanted you to do next. With a suspiciously gentle tug, he brought you slightly closer to him. You could tell he was getting impatient.
"Well?" He questioned, a frown gracing his features. "You don't need instructions. Go on."
You glanced up at him with blatant disgust in your eyes before raising your hands to undo his pants and reveal his semi-hard cock. You suppressed a grimace as you held it in your hand, steeling your nerves just enough to be able to lick a stripe down the side. Flattening your tongue, you moved back up to take the tip in your mouth, letting your saliva slip past the corners of your lips to lubricate the rest of his dick.
You half-assed it all, not bothering to take it all the way down or, at the very least, use your tongue. However, Dottore caught on quick enough with an annoyed sigh. You supposed you shouldn't have been surprised when he tangled his fingers into your hair and shoved you down, but you were caught off guard either way.
You were embarrassed to hear a loud gag sound from you, choking and sputtering on his cock whenever the tip of it slid down your throat. You dug your nails into his thighs when he suddenly shifted and pressed the sole of his boot onto your dick, letting out a muffled cry that only served to please him. He made no move to rub it against you, simply keeping it firmly on your crotch—to keep you in line, you assumed.
You squirmed, internally cringing at the feeling of your drool seeping out the corners of your lips. Fluttering your eyes shut, you tried to focus on your breathing. In and out, in and out, in and—
"Don't look away," he said, refusing to give you a moment of respite, shoving his cock all the way inside your mouth, harshly tugging on your hair at the same time. He fucked your face, ignoring your sounds of protest as he battered your throat. He laughed at your struggle, entertained with the way your tears gathered at your lash line.
"Awh, is this too much for you?" He taunted, shifting his hand to the back of your head to push you down to the base. He sighed contentedly at the feeling of your throat tightening and spasming around him, gently rocking his hips. "You should've thought that through before you accepted the job."
With a painful tug, he pulled you off of his cock. A trail of saliva connected you to him, which you quickly broke when you turned your head to cough into your elbow. He ordered you to get up, unwilling to wait a second before he hauled you up by your arm impatiently. He effortlessly moved your body, pressing your cheek against the wooden door as he pushed on your back, forcing it to arch.
Deeming your position acceptable, he tucked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pants to yank them down to your knees. Your breath hitched at the sudden change in temperature, refusing to lean back and seek any warmth from Dottore.
With one hand on your hip, the other strayed toward your ass, spreading it to inspect your hole. It took effort to keep yourself from fidgeting under his gaze, and you opened your mouth in a daring attempt to get him to hurry up when he suddenly spat on your hole, shoving two fingers inside soon after.
You let out a grunt, clawing at the door he had you lean against. It was an uncomfortably foreign sensation but you were in no position to struggle. A burning sensation emanated from your hole as his fingers forced their way inside, wasting no time to move in a scissoring motion. They brushed against a spot that sent sparks up your spine every so often, taunting you wordlessly.
"You're enjoying this," Dottore said, not as a question or comment, but as a statement. And the worst thing was, he was right. No matter how much your mind made you hate it, your body told a different tale.
You let out a displeased sigh, pressing your forehead against the cold door, not daring to make your words known. Not that he minded. He enjoyed forcing your reactions out of you just as much as having them given to him without a fight.
He made it known with a jab to your prostate, sending a shock up and down your spine so suddenly it nearly made your knees buckle. That was all he gave you before abruptly pulling away, leaving you uncomfortably empty until the quiet ptuh! sound of him spitting on his cock filled your ears.
Fuck. This was actually happening. And you had no way out.
In a last ditch effort to maintain your dignity, you tried to push yourself off of the door but was quickly pressed—borderline slammed—back down with a hand to the back of your neck.
"I don't think you'll enjoy the alternative," he said, the undertones of irritation and impatience evident in his voice. He squeezed the sides of your neck hard enough to ensure your compliance, nearly scowling when you shifted in place. "So be still and behave like a good little thing."
Without missing a beat, he lined the tip of his cock up against your slick asshole and pushed his way inside, forcing a strained cry from your throat. He made sure it hurt, purposefully moving slowly to make you feel every inch and vein.
You whimpered, trying to breathe and calm yourself down. The stretch fucking hurt and you instinctively shifted your hips forward in a futile attempt to ease the pain when Dottore held your hips to yank you back, shoving the last few inches inside you.
You let out a strangled groan, biting your lower lip to stifle your noises as searing pain tore through you. You breathed heavily through your nose, feeling the weight of disgust settle in your chest when you heard him sigh in satisfaction at how tight you were. You winced when he pulled out slowly, only for him to slam back inside with a loud slap.
You jolted, just about ramming your head against the door in surprise. You grit your teeth and pressed a hand against it as the wood audibly creaked and groaned under your weight when he began to move. You tensed upon hearing faint voices beyond the door, peering back over your shoulder in a pathetic attempt to get him to stop.
"W—Wait," you muttered, breath hitching. "There's someone outside...!"
"Then I suppose you're just going to have to be quiet," he replied with an upward quirk to his lips before angling himself in a way that made his cock press up against you just right. You were disgusted to feel heat beginning to pool in your gut, forcing moans past your lips no matter how hard you tried to stop them. You covered your mouth with a hand as you listened to the noises approach. Dottore was (somewhat) merciful enough to press his pelvis against your ass, though that didn't stop him from rocking his hips to cruelly grind his cock into your prostate.
"Dottore?" It took you a moment to process the voice as electricity shot up and down your spine, trying your damn best to stifle your whimpers. "Are you in there?"
It's Pantalone, you recognize.
"Yes. Is there something you need from me?" Dottore replied, shifting his hold on you to start shallowly thrusting. You squeezed your eyes shut, listening to the painfully loud squelching.
"Not at the moment. I thought I heard something... else," Pantalone hummed with a knowing tone, sending a wave of mortification through your body.
"Then if that is all, I'd prefer it if you left," Dottore said, his amusement clear as day in his voice. He didn't even try to hide it as he gave you a punishing thrust, the resounding slap mixing in with your moan as it echoed off the walls. "I'm busy."
A laugh came from behind the door. "Very well. I'll leave you to it."
Dottore refused to wait for him to leave when he started again, this time fucking you so hard you were convinced there'd be a bruise. His fingers dug into your skin, yanking you back in time with his thrusts.
Your legs shook and you bit your lip until you bled, but it hardly did a thing to silence you.
"Look at you," Dottore mused, reaching around to hold your aching cock in his hand. He gave it a squeeze before jerking off the top half, focusing on the tip. "You were never meant to be a spy. You'd be so much better off as my little pet, wouldn't you agree?"
You let out a loud moan, instinctively looking down. You didn't even realize you were so hard, but as you watched the head of your cock drool precum onto the ground, everything felt twice as intense.
"N—No!" You choked out, clawing desperately at the creaking door. "I'll never—I'll never be your pet!"
"No?" Dottore laughed, sounding so unbothered it sent a spike of fear through you, reminding you of just how fucked you were. Swiftly, he swiped his fingers over the tip of your cock before bringing his hand up to push them into your mouth, making you taste your precum. With the palm of his hand, he pressed it against your chin to force your head back.
You let out a groan, feeling the strain on your upper back and neck as you stared at him with fear and disgust.
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," he reminded, pulling out the communicator with his other hand. He slightly shook it, taunting you. "Don't you remember that actions have consequences?"
He pocketed the device as he slid his hand away from your mouth to bring it to the back of your neck, holding it tightly as he harshly pressed you against the cold wood. The side of your face ached, but, much to your horror, the pain only went straight to your cock.
"So just stand there and enjoy it," he said with a groan, his dick pulsing rhythmically as he savored the sensation of your walls clamping tightly around him. "Don't fight how much you like this."
"I don-" Just then, he rammed his cock into your prostate over and over, reducing you into a babbling mess that only proved his point.
Your eyes burned with unshed tears, ashamed that you loved the feeling of him so deep inside you, but you hated that it was him fucking you. You could feel the heat in your stomach intensify with each harsh thrust, feel the way your balls tightened in a way you knew you couldn't stop.
"Please..." you whimpered, weak against the wet slapping sounds that filled the office. "I don't want to...!"
You came with a whorish moan, arching your back as your cock spilled cum onto the floor. You could hear the sound of Dottore's laugh through the haze of your orgasm as sparks coursed through your veins, knees nearly buckling.
"Yes you do," he groaned, voice slightly strained. You could faintly hear his labored breathing the closer he got to his own orgasm, noticing the way his movements grew sloppier and weaker. He reached around again, jerking you off despite the lurking overstimulation.
You tightened, sending him right over the edge as he slammed his cock inside you a final time, pressing himself flush against your ass as he came. It was uncomfortably warm as he throbbed in time with each spurt, savoring the way you practically tried to milk him dry.
But he didn't let it last long as he pulled out with a satisfied sigh, enjoying the sight of you, shaky and vulnerable, before him. He graciously gave you a moment before commanding you to fix yourself, stepping back to adjust his own appearance.
"Now," he said, sternly, like he didn't just fuck you within a damn inch of your life. "Why don't you send a message to your organization stating that you're not going back."
He handed you the communicator with a smug smirk, relishing in your distress. Taking in a deep breath to steel your nerves, you accepted the device, reluctantly typing in a message before returning it back to him with regret written on your face.
"Oh, don't look so upset," he pouted, pocketing the device. You weren't sure when you'd see it again. "It'll be easier for you if you cooperate."
He made his way past you, opening the door, sending shivers down your spine at the sudden chill. "But right now, you have a lot of work to do."
cross-posted on ao3
#il dottore#reader insert#male reader#reader smut#male reader insert#reader#male reader smut#x male reader#x reader#dottore x male reader#dottore x reader#dottore x you#dottore x reader smut#dottore x male reader smut#cw noncon#tw noncon#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin x you#dom character#top character#sub reader#bottom reader
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I don't want to overly challenge the anon who criticized the decision to blind Ranger and damage Hacksaws wing, but I think reading it has me wondering: What would the alternatives be?
Before I go super into this, I want to acknowledge that while I am disabled, my disabilities aren't connected to visual impairment or losing a limb, so I want to make it clear that I'm not trying to speak on behalf of that experience. That's not really my place, yeah?
But I think something about Warrior Cats, especially when extended to something like this, is also a story about exploring pain. Death and disability are as synonymous with this story as they are with most warrior cats fiction, for the better or worse, because the themes of the story revolve around what it means to suffer. The main distinction between the living and dead of this story is that the living get to see another day, as physically or emotionally damaged as they are. Barrenclan and the Defiance are ruled by this concept, even though the defiance perverts the idea into something grander than it actually is. Hacksaw and Rangers fate is kind of just an inevitably of the lives of all defiance members: They fight, and they either die or live to suffer another day. I don't really see it as a moral to their lives so much as just a consequence. The defiance can hurt and kill and maim, but it can't escape the fact these things can and will happen to them. The defiance is just a way for characters to trick themselves into thinking they're above that fate.
As for a writing perspective... If you have things you want to do with the characters after this, then yeah, I understand the decision. Otherwise they kinda have to die, since they wouldn't leave Barrenclan alone. It's always good to keep in mind things to avoid for the future, but it's also okay to tell complicated stories that leave messages that are hard to digest. Art isn't going to resonate with people all the time, and it shouldn't. I respect that you've responded to the criticism with humility and openness though!
I'm not gonna post any more about this after now, but I wanted to share this ask both because it's very well written and I think it does bring up some big themes in the story that I didn't mention but think are important!
And a general thank you to everyone for keeping a Warriors fancomic about incredibly intense topics on Tumblr so vastly chill and normal. My inbox and my brain appreciates it.
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Hello!
I was wondering, what are the chances of not getting your question posted for whatever reason? Like, maybe it wasn't considered appropriate for some or simply you didn't want to post it (and that's is completely fine and understandable). Like, how often does it happen? I've been waiting for about six months for my question to get posted, I just would like to know how likely it is to be left unpublished
Thank you and love the blog! :)
Another anon asked:
just a curious question - how many repeat polls have you received ever (or maybe how common idk)
I get a lot of repeat submissions! I haven't ever counted– and for the most part, I just delete them, so there would really be no way to count. I have a (partial) log of a bunch of the duplicate and off-topic submissions at @incognitopolls-inbox. You can check over there to see some of the polls I receive that I don't end up posting.
I looked through a random 3-day period of my inbox that I knew I haven't touched yet. Between the three days, there were 78 submissions that I would post, 18 submissions that I would not post, and 7 that I'm not sure about. That's a total of 103 submissions, meaning about 75% (of that particular sample pool) will get posted. Some of those "no"s are duplicates, some are off-topic, and there are one or two where I just couldn't figure out what was being asked.
Some that fall into that "I'm not sure" category are questions that are highly localized to somewhere that is not very heavily represented in the users that these polls reach, like "Belgians, how did you feel about [Belgian event]?". Nothing against Belgians, you just won't get much useful data from a poll blog whose results show that a vast majority of the sample pool is Not Belgian. Sometimes those are still fun to run, but I tend to "no" them more often than not.
Aside from duplicate and clearly off-topic submissions, there are a few other (less common) reasons I might not post a poll. It's impossible to give an example of every possible thing I'd veto, but some of the ones in that batch are things like "who should be allowed to say XYZ slur?" which frankly has never been a productive conversation to have on tumblr. Likewise with "Do you think [oppressor group] has a [moral/legal/religious/historical/biological/whatever] right to oppress [oppressed group]?"– there are some submissions that won't even see the light of day via @incognitopolls-inbox. No thanks.
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† the hero : shigaraki.
❥ scenario: tomura dealing with emotions for the enemy. ❥ uuuuuuhhhh... tw for death. technically multiple but you only read about one. ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ half requested.
❥ this post has five parts to it and it's a shit show. if you have issues with tomura actually feeling human things - please leave my inbox out of it.
❥ the timeline here is fucked. the ending has tomura with red eyes, bite me. it's a fucking shit show. enjoy.
❥ hate me, please. even if you can't hate me more than i hate myself. this is 8651 words.
✧*̥˚ the feelings *̥˚✧
it's no shock that tomura would be confused and very much in denial. not only would he not understand his own feelings or the fact he could feel such a way but falling for a hero? he's supposed to despise them; it goes against his entire belief system. he would have trouble navigating such feelings, mostly because he wouldn't. he wouldn't want to deal with them. he would go the route of bullshitting his way through it and brush them off as fascination or curiosity, telling himself it was entirely about their quirk - yes, that's all it is. he couldn't possibly feel genuine affection towards a hero.
he wouldn't handle it very well. he'd be frustrated beyond belief. pro heroes are obstacles, enemies - the bane of his existence, actually. not romantic interests. the ingrained hatred would be significant to his frustration. he would barely be able to comprehend his own level of agitation. it would just continue to grow and gnaw at his thoughts.
the one thing he wouldn't expect was the sudden self doubt that bubbled up. was he going insane? he would feel as if he couldn't trust his own judgement. was he becoming weak? to tomura, emotions just get in the way and make someone too vulnerable. it felt like parts of him were exposed and raw. he would struggle with the uncertainty and the internal conflict would have him collapsing in on himself.
internalizing everything and trying to rationalize would only make things worse. he would become obsessed with them. he would find some way to learn more about them - he wouldn't go as far as stalking them but he needed to know more. he would analyze every action, movement, word - it would prove to be a distraction more than once. this would lead to more interactions, making sure he was part of any scene they were. he wouldn't admit it but he had a strong desire to be near them.
of course, he'd wonder why. what made them so.. interesting? was it the pseudo untouchable hero shit? he couldn't say they weren't attractive but he also wasn't sure when he started noticing those things. the way they spoke, fought, even the way they walked - he couldn't take it.
despite everything, seeing them injured would just add on to the rage he already felt, bringing it to a level he didn't even know he could feel. he would feel some weird, uncharacteristic protectiveness towards them, one he wouldn't even fully understand. he was getting sick of not understanding his own feelings. the problem started when he began going out of his way to make sure they weren't getting harmed by other villains. he'd be lowkey about it but unbeknownst to him, the hero wouldn't be as oblivious as the villains.
jealous. tomura doesn't exactly have the best hold of grasping his emotions, so seeing you with other heroes, even interacting with your fans - it all made his skin crawl in such a disgusting manner. it would only fuel his anger and confusion. his view of the world would also feel disrupted. how was he supposed to feel?
tomura wasn't built to handle moral dilemma - he simply wasn't. the hatred he felt towards heroes was deeply imbedded in his past, his goals and his ideology. having feelings for someone on the other side of the court, that he was supposed to loathe, would force him to reevaluate his thoughts and beliefs - he would have to face a lot of painful memories. he briefly wondered if his brain and feelings were pulling some sick, twisted hero version of 'daddy issues'. was there a part of him seeking something? he ignored the idea that something was looking and pleading to be healed.
why was he even thinking about it? they would simply reject him, anyway. he feared that rejection - the rejection of allegiances and of him as a human being. did they even see him as such? or, was he simply another monster? it would weight heavily on him, feeling as thought he could never make a move. that thought would lead him to his next problem: acceptance.
he would eventually accept his feelings and affections, somewhat begrudgingly. it would be slow and he wouldn't like it one bit. succumbing to his need to be accepted by them. it would have a sudden moment of clarity and being honest, he might vomit at the wave of overwhelming emotions. but, he would finally acknowledge as what they are.
slowly and subtly, he'd begin changing the way he acted towards them. to everyone's surprise and distaste, he would be less hostile, not wanting them involved in conflict. the notable change, however, wouldn't be good. as the other villains noticed, it would cause a rift and considerable tension among them. this would add only more to his plate.
drabble.
sitting in the dimly lit hideout, tomura was doing everything he could top stop the racing thoughts in his mind. the images of the pro were making a mess of his thoughts and he couldn't get any of it to go away. he hated how his heart race quickened and his hands shook just because of them. he was going mad.
'damn it,' he hissed to himself, agitated beyond comprehension. 'why them?'
their last encounter haunted him, playing on loop and reminding him of the way he was looked at. they looked at him as if they saw more than just a villain. their gaze held understanding, concern.. compassion. it made something in him flutter, something that shouldn't exist. something he so desperately wanted to ignore.
his thoughts were disrupted when toga bounded into the room. 'hey!' she chimed, eyes twinkling with mischief. everyone else may have had a problem but he didn't want to admit that she understood. 'thinking about your little hero again?'
his gaze shifted to glare at her, jaw clenching briefly. 'shut up. it's none of your business.'
despite knowing his temper wasn't one to mess with, she decided to comment anyway. 'don't be so upset! i love a hero, too!' she giggled, making her way out of the room. he did his best to ignore her but he couldn't. he was so in love and it terrified him to no end.
✧*̥˚ the hero is immune *̥˚✧
his instant reaction would be pure shock. he's never known someone to be immune to his quirk and that was his biggest weapon; what use was he against you? he would be powerless. having an immunity to his quirk sounded impossible. he would be almost like a child, having to test it multiple times, being unable to believe his eyes. you shouldn't still be standing in from of him. he was back to that disgusting, exposed feeling. he was... useless.
if he wasn't curious about your quirk previously, he was fully invested in figuring it out. he needed to understand how it worked. he would be relieved for a little while, thinking about how he actually had a sliver of a chance.. someone he could touch without worry but it would be quickly overshadowed by fear. what did this mean for him? he had no control, no power - no walls put up.
he would be even more confused at this point. tomura has a sense of superiority that seemed to suddenly be dissipated. he would get angry with the way he questioned his own power. his growing feelings for you would cause his thoughts to clash even more violently. his desire to destroy heroes would be shaken by his inability to harm one, not to mention not wanting to. the idea of hurting you made him sick to his stomach. however, that growing desire to learn more would just lead him to want to be even closer. he was spilling himself apart between fear and uncertainty against love and need.
something that would make this conflict worse would be not knowing if anything was real. the way you looked at him and seemed to not want to hurt him in return.. was it a ploy to get closer? was your immunity a threat and you were just.. a plan. a fake. he would struggle severely with paranoia. would you use this against him? his growing love for you was already a weakness but now, you could easily become his downfall.
but.. he could touch you. he could hold you. and, he kind of hated that.
drabble
shigaraki was pacing around in the abandoned building, lit only by streaks of moonlight, trying to get his thoughts straight as he battled fascination and frustration. you just watched, arms folded and hip cocked. you couldn't count the amount of times he'd taken your hand or touched your arm, expecting you to crumble but there you stood, unscathed. he couldn't read your expression.
'how?' he finally asked, stopping in his tracks. his voice was low, something anyone else would consider dangerous but you were confident nothing could really happen. 'how are you immune?' "why did you come? why do you keep meeting me?' he didn't voice the questions in his head.
'my quirk makes me resistant to certain types of physical damage. usually it's against things like fire damage, ice.. surface poisons. i'm guessing your decay falls under that category.' you brushed it off as casually as you could because in reality, you hadn't known the extent of your own quirk.
he took a deep breath, a whirlwind of emotions racing through him. 'why didn't you tell me? this isn't the first time we've met.' he hoped it wouldn't be the last.
you frowned a little to yourself before your gaze softened and your arms fell, shrugging. 'i knew you would see me as a threat,' you answered, 'i liked the idea of you getting to know me as a person. not a threat, not a hero.'
you had to be taunting him, right?
'you.. you're.. different.' it was mostly said to himself but not quiet enough to not be heard. he wanted to stop closer to you, to reach for you, but he stopped himself, hands trembling at his sides.
you, on the other hand, took a step towards him. 'tomura.. there's a lot more to you than just decay. the day i took your hand and we both learned i was immune? you realize i did that not knowing what would happen? you don't have to be defined by.. all of this alone.'
his breath caught in his throat and he looked away. the way you said his name with such gentleness, it made his heart ache. his eyes closed to attempt calming himself and he found himself imagining a world where you were right. a world where he wasn't a villain, where he could be with you without all of the complications. that wasn't possible.
but, those thoughts had to come to an end and reality was a harsh thing. 'this changes nothing,' he muttered, voice a bit shaky and lacking it's usual conviction. fuck.
you just nodded. 'it's a start.'
unable to shake the feeling he had, he knew it was best to say nothing more and turned to leave. he couldn't allow himself to show such a vulnerable side to you.. not when he still didn't know your motives. your immunity to decay could be something much more than a quirk, it was painting itself out to be a symbol of hope that maybe there was more to life, to his life, than fear and destruction.
✧*̥˚ the confession *̥˚✧
the atmosphere felt heavy and thick with the tension of unspoken feelings. you stood across from tomura once more, tucked away from the world in your usual meeting spot, one that shouldn't exist to begin with. you wanted to say it was worth it, unable to deny the growing bond between you, but was it? it was nice to have a place away from the prying, judgmental eyes of society, of heroes and villains. but, what would the cost be if you were found?
'we.. can't keep meeting like this, tomura. it's dangerous.' you began, knowing that both of you would face horrible consequences.
he shifted his weight, uncomfortable and awkward, eyes narrowing as he tried to hide as much as he could. 'you think i don't know that?' he hissed out, hands clenching, 'but i.. i can't just stay away. i..'
you furrowed your brow, trying to figure something out. you searched his features for some type of answer, even a sign of the person beneath the villain standing before you but it was useless. 'why do you keep coming back to me? what is it you want?'
a long pause followed your question, your desperate attempt for something, anything to ease the curiosity. his fingers twitched, palms burning with how his desire to destroy everything around him was clashing with his own desperate need to hold something - someone - and feel human for even a moment.
'i don't understand it. you make me.. question everything and i hate it. i don't know what any of this is or how to handle it. you've made me feel things that i've kept buried for so long.'
listening to him, you took a few steps towards him, leaving only about two feet of space. 'then tell me what they are and i can figure them out with you. i've said it before, tomura, you're so much more than you're giving yourself credit for. you're not just.. a vil--'
you were cut off. 'i don't need your pity, so stop. i'm not a lost cause that you can save. i'm not just another badge for your hero bullshit.' he spoke the words through gritted teeth, angry and confused about.. everything.
'if it was pity and i thought you were just a lost cause, we wouldn't be standing here. you'd be in custody,' you pointed out firmly, straightening your shoulders, 'it's not pity. pity doesn't make me meet up with a villain who is trying to kill everyone around me. this is.. this is something else.'
he didn't know how to respond for a moment, your words echoing in his head. his heart began to pound, his confidence shattering and his mask nonexistent under the weight of his feelings. 'i don't know how to say this.. i've spent so long hating, destroying.. being angry. i didn't know i was capable of feeling something like this.'
you knew things were bleeding into a territory they shouldn't and you should have stopped the moment you fully began to understand what he meant. but, heroes have their faults, too. instead, you moved closer and gently collected one of his hands. 'it's okay. just say it, whatever it is, say it. i'm here.'
his nerves were eased by your touch, gripping onto it carefully as it grounded him to reality, one that was becoming far too overwhelming. he couldn't remember the last time he felt the warmth of someone beneath his fingertips for so long and it broke him even further.
taking a deep breath, he let it out and met your gaze. 'i.. i think.. no. no, i know. i've fallen for you,' his voice grew quieter with each word, no longer trusting or confident in his own voice, 'it scares me.. but, it's the truth.'
you knew what was coming but your eyes still widened upon hearing it. you moved on your own, even closer, your free hand coming up to settle over his cheek. 'tomura,' you whispered and God, his knees threatened to give out every single time you said his name. 'i've fallen for you, too.' you knew the deep shit you'd be in if anyone found out but in the moment, in that place, labels didn't exist.
his eyes fell shut as he leaned into your touch, breath shaky. for the first time in such a long time, he felt a sliver of hope. he felt, even if for the briefest of seconds, some type of peace. 'but.. what does this mean for us..? what can we even do.. how can we make it work?' he couldn't believe he was asking such things.
you just smiled, attempting to reassure him as you thumb moved over his cheek. 'we'll figure it okay, okay? one step at a time.'
standing there in silence, you held onto each other tightly, both lost in thought of how you were going to navigate the world from both sides without losing yourselves. for the first time, tomura felt like had had something, someone, worth the fighting. this time, not out of hate.
✧*̥˚ the first date *̥˚✧
a couple of weeks after the confession was the day neither of you expected to come. the sun was beginning to set over the abandoned park, painting it gold and making it seem so surreal; it was the perfect spot to meet up away from the city. it offered peace.
tomura showed up first, hands in his pockets and trying not to press his nails against thighs shielded only by thin material. never in a million years did he think he would be waiting to meet up with a pro for anything other than conflict. the confession had been intense and overwhelming and agreeing to go on a date, well.. it was uncharted, somewhat scary territory.
as you approached, you managed to catch his gaze as it lifted. he couldn't help but think of how different you looked in casual attire, bringing the tiniest of smiles to his lips.
'you're here,' he mumbled, the mix of relief and nervousness making him want to curse under his breath. he still wasn't wanting to be so open with how his head was working.
'where else would i be?' you mused, offering a warm smile in return. 'come on, let's go.'
as you began to walk, he fell into step beside you, flinching when your arm looked with his own. it was quiet for the most part, the occasional crunch of leaves and rustle of wind breaking into the silence. it was comfortable, just roaming along. it felt normal.
'so,' you began, looking over to him, 'what do you like to do, hm?'
being interesting was something he wasn't and the question made him shrug a little. 'i.. don't really know. it's been a while since i've thought about those things or had the time to.. do anything outside of, you know, the villain stuff.'
'"the villain stuff"', you snickered, finding the answer amusing though not trying to mock him. 'i understand that.. i haven't had many hobbies myself since, well, the hero stuff, i guess.'
the walk lead to a small bench, surrounded by overgrown grass and little flowers, offering an odd sense of welcoming. you sat down first, followed by him, though he was hesitant. it all felt so domestic to him, like his normal life was so distant. he wasn't sure how to relax and accept how at ease he felt.
'what about.. any favorite places?' you asked, this time a little more quiet, attempting to draw him out of his thoughts.
he thought a second 'oh.. there was a place i used to go, some years back. an arcade.. i liked the games, all the lights.. the ugly carpet. i felt like i could be normal there.'
feeling the urge to frown at the last part, you shook it off and gently nudged him. 'arcade? maybe we can go find one someday.. play some games, be normal people.' you understood the struggle with being normal, even if it had two different reasonings.
he couldn't fight the smile that appeared, looking down to hide it from you. 'yeah.. maybe.' he felt like he was trying to fool himself, like he was playing a silly game. he thought back to how little kids would play house and it quickly turned his smile into a frown, realizing he was just playing the grown up version.
noticing the change, you leaned to rest your head on his shoulder. 'we'll get there.. i promise.'
you both sat there for a while, letting the sun go down and leaving you to look up at the night sky, content to pretend nothing else mattered. you talked about little things, even going as far as to share stories from your childhood that garnered your most favorite sound; tomura laughing. it was foreign but you found yourself just falling deeper.
sighing, you both leaned back, relaxing against each other. 'it's beautiful, isn't it?' you mumbled, referring to the sky.
tomura's gaze never left your face, not bothering to look up or even figure out what you meant. 'yeah,' he answered softly. a warmth spread through him that he'd never felt before, finally understanding that the connection.. you, in general, was something he'd been missing. it was so much more than breaking rules, lying, defying labels' he was finding a piece of himself that he'd thought dead and gone.
when you turned to find his gaze on you, your own softened and you leaned just enough to bump the tips of your noses together. he still wasn't used to the affection. 'thank you for tonight. i know.. this isn't easy.. and, i don't know where it's going to go but i'm glad we're here. trying.'
with a deep breath, he shifted around to sit sideways and face you, hesitantly taking your hand along the way. 'me too.'
you laced your fingers with his own, head tipped back against the bench to look at him in the new position, gaze full of nothing but warmth. that's how you both stayed for a while, well into the early morning, just talking. both of you felt a glimmer of hope, the promise of some type of breakthrough. something real. that could possibly make sense one day.
✧*̥˚ breaking point *̥˚✧
as the numbers on your clock switched to shine back at you just how late it was, you took a deep breath and decided it was finally time to try and sleep. it was normal for you to be awake past midnight but you just felt so drained. as you rose to head for bed, you were stopped by the faint sound of a knock at the front door. the sound put you on edge and you moved to check through the security screen, eyes widening at what you saw.
tomura was at your door, hood pulled low to mostly shield his features. something about it made your stomach twist, feeling like something was wrong and you were quick to open the door, pulling him inside. the last thing you needed was for him to get caught.
'tomura, what are you doing here?' you asked, concern evident in your voice. out of pure instinct, you began checking to see if he was hurt, heart racing.
he caught your wrists carefully to stop you, shaking his head. you took notice of how he was trembling, how his eyes flickered around the unfamiliar setting of your apartment as if someone was going to jump out and end your little game.
'i didn't know where to go,' he finally answered, voice raw and broken. 'everything.. everything is.. it's too much. i don't even know what to believe anymore.'
you were confused and worried. the man before you most definitely wasn't the one who was trying to kill you almost two years ago but he also wasn't the one who had spent several nights on a park bench laughing with you. you gently got your wrists free and guided him to the couch. 'talk to me, what happened?'
as he sat down, he held his hands in front of him, arms resting on his knees. he stared at them as if they were foreign to him, gaze filled with desperation and fear. 'do you know how long i've spent being told what to do.. who to hate, what's good, what's bad.. and now there's you. everything is different and it's.. it's terrifying.'
you weren't going to begin to say you understood because you didn't. your struggles were on a completely different playing field. that didn't stop you from reaching out to take his hands. 'you're not alone and you're not going to ever face any of this alone. it's okay to be scared.. you're human. i don't care what anyone else has ever told you - you are human. all of this.. it's new for both of us and while i can't say i can see from your view, i will be here and we will figure it out together.'
he flinched, watching the way your hands went around his, almost like he was waiting for what would always come. he still wasn't used to it and he was so scared the one day, all it would take was the brush of his hand to lose you. 'i don't know how to do this,' he whispered with a weak, broken chuckle. 'i don't know how to be anything other than what i am. what i've been. i've barely ever been seen as human.'
it broke your heart to listen to him, wishing you could go back and change something - anything - so that he didn't have to experience what put him in such a mindset. 'i wish i could give you all the answers.. but i can't. just.. breathe, okay? i'm right here.' you shifted closer to pull him into your arms, hugging him as close as you could.
tomura didn't hesitate to hide against you, face pressed into your shoulder as he began to shake with silent sobs. he clung to you, fingers curled into your shirt, relishing in the miracle of being able to touch someone and doing his best not to think of the fact it was also a curse. maybe.. just maybe, had you not been immune, you'd both be better off.
'i've been so angry for so long,' he finally spoke again, muffled against your shoulder. 'angry at everything.. heroes, the world, myself, all of it. but you, i can't even explain.. you make me feel so much more and i don't know what to do with it. are we supposed to just.. hide for the rest of our lives..? be.. ashamed..?'
'ashamed..' you repeated, tightening your hold on him, 'i'm not ashamed.' or, were you? you told yourself you could never be ashamed to be with him but he was right, you were both hiding. you'd both be traitors, untrusted.. unwanted. 'i.. i don't know. it's not easy and.. i just don't know.'
he didn't respond and you didn't expect him to, your answer giving him next to no relief and only giving yourself more to think about. but, you stayed put for a while, holding him as he cried, letting out years of pent up emotions, the weight of fear and doubt becoming too much. slowly, his sobs began to slow and his breathing evened out. he wasn't anywhere near done but his body really had nothing left.
'thank you,' he muttered, voice hoarse as he turned his head, coughing a little. 'i.. i really don't know what i'd do without you.. how i made it this far, even.'
'you never have to worry about that,' you promised, gently brushing his hair aside. you hoped your own worry wasn't noticeable.
leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead, you pulled back slowly to get to your feet, holding out your hand. 'stay, let's go to bed. you need the rest.. away from everything.'
✧*̥˚ golden gaze *̥˚✧
off for the afternoon, you sat on your couch, head in your hands as you reflected on the events of three nights ago. seeing tomura so broken and not being able to give any answers - it put you in a place of wondering just what was going to happen. was your quirk such an unfortunate thing to put you in such a place? you didn't ask to fall in love but you knew walking away wasn't an option. you were startled out of your thoughts by a knock and honestly, you were getting nervous about visitors and upon getting up to check, you had every right to be. behind your door was hawks, his usual relaxed expression replaced with something serious. something.. dangerous.
'hey,' he greeted when you finally opened the door, his tone telling you this wasn't just a friendly visit. 'we need to talk.'
fuck.
you nodded and let him in, door closed and locked behind him. hawks made his way into the living room, golden eyes scanning out of habit and to search for something - for someone. once you were both seated, he eyed you for a moment.
'They've got me watching you. It's been two weeks now,' he said bluntly, clenching and unclenching his jaw. 'They know something's up. Suspicious as always.'
your heart sank and you knew the way you flexed your fingers and looked away said all that he needed. 'i see,' you whispered. you knew it could happen, even being so careful, and the confirmation felt like a punch to the gut. no matter how hard you tried, lying to him wasn't possible.
hawks sighed and leaned back, pushing a hand through his hair. 'Look.. we're friends, have been for a while. So, I'm gonna be straight with you and ask. Who is it? What have you been sneaking around for and do I need to put an end to it?'
you knew that fighting your best friend wasn't something impossible and as much as you'd both be against it.. you shook your head. the weight of your friendship made you tell the truth, knowing your secrets were at least in good hands. 'Tomura Shigaraki,' you confessed, looking down as your fingers gripped at your sweatpants, 'we.. we've been seeing each other. i know, i know how it sounds and it's complicated but it's real, Kei. you know i wouldn't risk so much if it wasn't.'
hawks' eyes widened before he let out a low whistle, head shaking as he let your words sink it. 'Shigaraki.. that's.. damn, that's big.' he was still processing the information, genuinely at a head with how he was supposed to react. when he was called in, he expected it to be something small. 'Can't say I'm a fan, for obvious reasons. He's dangerous, and everything he stands for goes against what all of us are fighting for.'
you didn't need to be reminded and it brought tears to your eyes, unable to stop them. 'i know, kei. but.. please, try to understand, he's different when it's just us. he's trying.. i- i feel like he could change. i believe in him.' it sounded pathetic, betting your career on love and hope.
hawks was silent for a second, analyzing you before he scooted closer, a hand settling on your shoulder. 'i won't tell anyone. the commission won't hear it from me. as far as i'm concerned, you've just been sneaking out to catch a break.'
your head snapped up, looking at him through the blur of your tears. 'thank you.. but why? you.. why would you take such a big risk..?'
he didn't want to make things morbid but it was something you'd already heard from him. he gave a sad smile, squeezing your shoulder. 'I can't take something away from someone that i've always wanted. a real connection, real love.. someone to come home to. it's rare. and if you really think he could change, maybe there's hope for you guys. i can't.. get in the way of that. you wouldn't be here, like this, if it wasn't real.'
his words only made more tears fall, the stress and anxiety of the last several days finally hitting their breaking point. 'i.. i don't know what to do, kei. h-he's scared and doesn't know what to do.. fate is s-so fucking cruel to do this to us,' you sobbed, lifting your hands slightly in a gesture, 'to put us against each o-other.. the opposite sides of a full blown w-war.. and make us love each other? why..'
shifting around, hawks pulled you into a hug, wings folding around you in a protective manner. 'it is fucked up.. but, i'm sure you're going to figure it out. you're not alone in this.'
you clung to him, sobbing against his shoulder and letting out the tears you couldn't, wanting to be strong for tomura. hawks just let you be, whispering what he could of reassurances and offering comfort that it seemed you desperately needed. as you began to gradually calm down, finding it difficult to breathe, you pulled back slightly, beyond thankful to have the blond as such a close friend.
'thank you, kei,' you whispered, wiping and rubbing at your eyes.
he shrugged, wiping away a tear from your cheek with a small smile. 'hey, what are friends for? i'll do what i can to help.. just, be careful, alright? one step at a time.'
you sat together for a while, telling him more and getting his comments. you were thankful for the support, feeling a little less suffocated by everything. the future was uncertain but you would find a way.
✧*̥˚ confrontation *̥˚✧
tomura sat at the worn out table of the hide out, one arm crossed with his forehead resting on it, lost in thought. he seemed to be going over the same thoughts as you. what he hadn't expected was the door to swing open with a harsh bang against the wall and dabi to enter, eyes bright with anger.
'it is true?' he ask, voice dripping with contempt. 'you've got to be kidding me. you're involved with a pro hero?'
he was too tired to fight. 'what if i am?' he asked, head lifting to look at him, expression unreadable. 'it's none of your business.'
his brow furrowed when the latter slammed his hand on the table, the rattle making him groan. as dabi leaned closer, eyes flickering, he knew the conversation wasn't going to end well. 'what the hell are you thinking? they're the enemy - our enemy! you're the leader of the league of villains, for fucks sake!'
he'd never exactly seen the other show that much of a reaction to something and honestly, a tiny part of him was amused. 'you're talking like you do anything but chase after your pro hero father for acknoweldgement. you're going to lecture me?'
before dabi could respond, toga had slipped into the room, a look of concern on her features. 'i think you should calm down,' she said, stepping between them. 'do you really think it's that simple? come on.'
turquoise eyes rolled and a laugh sounded, echoing in the most empty room. 'not that simple? he's fraternizing with the enemy, toga. this could destroy everything we've ever worked for.'
toga shook her head, glancing back to tomura before speaking, her tone soft but firm. 'no, it won't. shigaraki knows what he's doing. besides.. maybe this could be a good thing?'
getting up from his seat, tomura stood up, meeting dabi's gaze. 'i'm not betraying the league. i know what's at stake but.. i won't give up on them. it's making me question things, sure, but maybe toga's right.'
looking between the two of them, the oldest scoffed. 'why are either of you even here? you both sound like lovesick morons. what's next? are you going to go and beg to join them next?'
toga frowned at the words, knowing her own interaction with heroes was just as complicated. 'he's right.. we've all questioned things but we're all still here. maybe.. it'll be a push to a better path.'
his anger wavered as he looked between them once more, feeling uncertain but he was aware no one was changing their minds. 'and what happens when your precious hero betrays us? what happens when they betray you, shigaraki?'
it wasn't a thought that tomura wanted bouncing around his head, not again. his gaze hardened and his fists clenched but he had nothing to say. he trusted you but no one was going to listen. toga just looked up to him, feeling sympathy for his dilemma. he was thankful at least one person was on his side.
dabi sighed, frustrated, and just threw his hands up. 'whatever. when this backfires, don't expect me to clean up the mess.' and with that, he was already stomping off out of the room, head shaking.
'don't worry, we'll handle it together,' toga said, regaining some of her usual playfulness as she turned to face tomura. 'we always do. i'm here for you, too.'
tomura felt a slight sense of relief that it hadn't escalated any further, humming at the girl's attempt to comfort him. '..thanks, toga.. i appreciate it.'
she winked, showing off a toothy grin. 'anytime! now, let's figure out our next move, yeah?'
✧*̥˚ the delusion of a happy ending *̥˚✧
the night was quiet, eerily so as you patrolled the outskirts of town. but something felt off and you couldn't put a finger on it. the darkness felt heavy, almost suffocating as your stomach began to twist with an overwhelming sense of dread. you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong but what? everything seemed normal. nothing seemed out of place. not a soul was even in the streets.
and suddenly, the air began to thicken, crackling with what could only be a sinister energy. you shouldn't have turned around. you should have flagged the others and done your best to run but you didn't. you turned on your heel to face the one person you knew you couldn't defend yourself against. All For One stood before you, his presence felt like it was crushing you and he radiated malice.
'good evening, hero,' he began, voice mocking. 'i've been waiting to meet you.'
you hesitated before taking a defensive stance, deciding if you were going out, you'd at least try. 'what do you want?'
his response was to chuckle and it made your heart pound, skin crawling at the sound. 'you see, there's been something of a.. complication recently. shigaraki seems to have taken a liking to you and.. well, that simply won't do.'
your eyes widened, realization dawning on you. 'you.. how do you..?'
'i know everything,' he answered, tone laced with disdain, 'i cannot allow this distraction to continue. he must remained focused on our goals.'
before you could react, his hand raised and a malevolent energy began swirling about his fingers. moving didn't seem to be an option, feeling as if the air itself was keeping you glued to your spot. this was it - you were going to die and didn't even have a fighting chance. you almost laughed at how pathetic it was.
'this is for the greater good, you see?' he began coldly, 'your quirk has become quite the nuisance and i think it's time to get rid of such a pesky thing. you don't need it, right?'
reality was a cruel thing. he wasn't going to kill you. he was going to make you miserable. before you could speak, a sudden searing pain spread through your frame. it felt as if every fiber of your being was being torn apart, atom by atom and you screamed, the sound echoing through the streets.. or maybe not? no one seemed to hear it. your visioned was blurry by the time you were dropped to your knees, feeling empty and weak.
All For One stepped closer, his expression one of mild curiosity. 'it's fascinating how easily power can be taken away, isn't it,' he mused.'
as the pain subdued, you felt hollow.. a disgusting, heavy emptiness flooding you. you'd never fully understood your quirk but it had given you something so meaningful and it was gone. looking up to the man, your eyes filled with angry tears. 'you won't win,' you hissed out, nearly choking on the words, 'h-he'll see through your bullshit.'
'perhaps.'
with that, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows in which he came, leaving you broken on the ground. you tried to stand but your legs gave out, leaving you on the concrete to let reality fully sink in on what had happened. you were quirkless. and there was nothing you could do about it.
desperation build as you thought of tomura and you knew you needed to find him, to tell him. it took several minutes to summon any strength you had left to get to your feet, mind racing as you thought of where you could go. your secret meeting spot.. surely if he didn't hear from you, like he was supposed to, he'd look for you, right?
you stumbled through the streets, body aching and heart heavy. the cruel words of that evil man echoed through your thoughts, making you even more determined to keep going. his sick idea to not kill you but to use you against tomura made your insides burn with hatred. she felt vulnerable without her quirk but there was nothing she could do. she needed to find him.
it felt like hours before you reached the familiar spot, the bench from your first day, and collapsed onto it. your breathing was ragged and you were exhausted, pain still throbbing through your limbs. 'tomura, please..' you whispered to yourself.
it took an hour for him to appear, frantically looking for you after you didn't show up. his eyes grew wide with concern upon seeing the state you were in. 'what happened to you?' he asked, rushing to your side and instinctively reaching for you, his worry overriding his usual caution and hesitancy.
you were too slow. too slow to move, too slow to speak. before you had the chance to explain, his fingertips brushed against your arm. 'tomura, wait-!' you tried to get out, words having been caught in your throat as confusion, pain and fear filled you, overwhelming your senses. the sensation of decay was something your mind didn't even have time to describe to yourself. your eyes widened in pure horror and before he could even register what was happening, you were gone.
tomura's own eyes widened, watching his biggest fear unfolding right in front of him and it brought up too many flashbacks. 'no.. no, this.. this can't be happening,' he couldn't speak above a whisper, watching as you disintegrated and slipped through his fingers like sand. before he could fully comprehend what was happening, he fell to his knees, hands clutching the remnants of the person he'd grown to care for and love so deeply. the weight of his actions crashed down on him like a tidal wave and he could only think of one way you'd suddenly have no immunity to him.
'no!' he cried out, voice echoing through the empty alleyway, 'no, no, no..'
as he knelt there, surrounded by the dust that once had been you, someone he was willing to change so much for, he was back to the racing thoughts of conflicting emotions. the person who had made him question everything, had healed so much, that gave him hope for something better, was gone. and it was his fault. it was always his fault. he heard your voice in his head, telling him he wasn't a monster and it brought tears to his eyes.
'i am a monster,' he managed to get out, voice breaking, 'but him.. i..i trusted him.. and now.. he promised to help , to give me power.. a-all he's done it take e-everything away.. what little i had.' he didn't know how to come to terms with the new revelation, feeling like he was tearing apart at the seems. 'everything i believed in.. everything he taught me.. it was all a lie..'
'why.. why did this have to happen?' he asked himself, shaking with grief and rage. it was his fault. had he never approached you, it wouldn't have happened. the self blame hit but he was still far too angry to fully take the blame.
the reality of All For One's manipulation hit him with a harsh case of clarity. the mentor he had trusted, the one who took him in and cared for him, shaped his future.. the same man who orchestrated such a cruel fate. he felt such a burning hatred in his gut that he couldn't move. on top of his anger pressed the soul shattering guilt for what had happened, all because he was stupid enough to believe he deserved better.
as he sat their in the darkness for hours, hands stained, and weeping over the hero he loved, he no longer had any sense of purpose. who could he trust? who was right anymore..? as he let his thoughts wander, he thought back to the moment you spoke of change.. of understanding. he would carry the memory of you with him and make sure your loss wouldn't be in vain. it would be the catalyst for a new path.
as he got to his feet, elbow against the brick wall for support, he looked up to the night sky and took a deep, shaky breath. the path he was about to take was uncertain and the fight he would find himself in wasn't going to be easy - he even hoped it ended with being reconnected with you. but he would fight for a future that could honor your memory and he would find his own way, free from anyone else's control.
✧*̥˚ a tiny little bonus *̥˚✧
the sun was shining brightly over the campus, casting a warm glow over the students wandering across the grass, most likely trying to get to classes. among them, you walked between your two friends - toya and himiko. the group was chatting, laughing away as they discussed what they would get up to once all of their classes were over.
you were just starting your second year of college along with himiko, following behind toya who was in his third. the small blond girl added an bright, infectious energy to the conversation as she talked with her hands, excitedly talking about a project she was working on. toya on the other hand, while being interested, complained about his own project that he wasn't even sure would be finished in time. the day felt like quite an adventure to you, just nodded along and commenting when there was an opening.
as they walked, your attention was caught by a passing group of students - one in particular. a young man with disheveled black hair and soft red eyes, licking over his lips when one of his friends made a comment about them being dry. you bit back a chuckle when hearing a rebuttal about seasonal allergies. she couldn't ignore the way something tugged at her mind.
tenko was a transfer student who'd spent the past week unpacking and getting his schedule squared away, had somehow already made a small group of friends despite his seemingly introverted manner. as he walked, nudging one of the guys teasing him, he couldn't help but feel a strange sensation, feeling eyes on him and he stopped, turning around to catch your's gaze.
for a moment, time seemed to stand still. the world faded out and all they saw was each other, a familiar tug pulling at each other their hearts.
in your head, an familiar scene played, showing them in a pro hero costume, standing beside shigaraki in the dark alley. his gaze held fear and longing and you were brushing over his cheek, whispering that it would be okay. the memory seemed to bring tears to your eyes.
tenko, on the other hand, could see the moment he'd finally understood his quirk wasn't going to work. his hand was on your cheek, relief flooding him at the smallest touch. the raven was confused but it felt so.. familiar.
'hey, you okay?' himiko's voice broke through the spell and you blinked, head tipping towards her.
'oh.. sorry, i..' you began, pursing your lips, 'i thought i saw someone i knew..'
toya's eyebrow went up, glancing towards the young man then back. 'you know him?'
you shook your head with a frown. 'no but.. it feels like i should..? i just.. i just saw.. you know what, forget it? i sound crazy.'
tenko felt a familiar pull and as he kept walking, something told in to stop. he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew you, seemingly in another life, and he couldn't get himself to keep moving. the sensation was so unbelievably strong, he turned around and looked for you once more.
he didn't have a choice as he began moving towards you, heart beating harsh in his chest. 'excuse me,' he called, '..y/n?' he wasn't sure where the name came from but as he looked in your eyes, he felt an overwhelming wave of emotions, too many pictures rolling through his thoughts.
hearing the name, you looked up at him. 'tomura..?' you whispered.
himiko and toya had stepped back, exchanging curious glances but staying silent, not wanting to ruin the moment.
as you went to offer a hand to him, another student bumped him into you and the touch alone brought everything back. both of your memories from your past life flooding back like a dam had broken. both of you were shown the final moments of your relationship. and something in you broke, even dropping your bag.
'you.. you went against.. him..?' you asked, already throwing your arms around him as tears welled up in your eyes. you knew you shouldn't be upset but he wouldn't be standing in front of you had he not passed soon after.
'for you.' was his only answer, arms going around you tightly.
as the two of you stood, clinging to each other, whispering and sniffling, toya nudged himiko. 'did we just witness some reincarnation soulmate shit..?' he whispered, though he couldn't help but smile.
himiko nodded, offering him a toothy grin in return. 'fate really is weird, huh?' she asked, nudging him back. 'wonder if either of us have soulmates out there.'
the white haired male shrugged, tossing his bag over his shoulder. 'who knows.. wonder what kinda people we were, though.'
when the two of you pulled back, hands laced and prepared to face a whole new life together, you turned to face your friends. 'i'm sure we were friends in our past lives, too,' you chimed, being at least a little hopeful. none of your memories with each other showed them. soulmate stuff was weird, you decided.
himiko leaned down to pick up your discarded back. 'i'm sure we were all friends in all of our past lives.. just like we'll be in the next.'
everyone smiled and fell into step. tenko had waved back to his friends to go on without him and you resumed your conversation about plans, automatically pulling the raven into the middle of them.
'my dad's throwing some weird party for my brother.. you guys want to just hang out at my place?' toya asked, looking over the group. 'you can bring your new boyfriend.'
you rolled your eyes. 'wonder if your dad is this.. creepily.. attached to you and your siblings in another life. i'm pretty sure most of your house is covered in family portraits.'
'you realize i moved to a dorm just so i could breathe, right? he's like.. i don't even know how to explain it. he's like those t.v dad's that are so.. perfect? it's annoying.'
himiko laughed. 'you're upset because you have a loving family? that's soooo weird.'
toya clicked his tongue and reached to pinch her arm. 'you live on campus too, you know?'
you listened to them bicker, content to lean into tomura's side, peeking up at him as you walked. he glanced down at you, leaning to press a kiss against your forehead.
maybe, you thought, this life would treat you better.
#mha scenarios#mha imagines#mha imagine#mha x reader#mha#bnha x reader#bnha scenarios#bnha#bnha imagines#shigaraki x reader#tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura#bnha shigaraki
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