#there are way too many instances of me saying that i don't like something and then boom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sardonic-the-writer · 5 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦

↳ summary: the x-men can't seem to leave you alone, even if you've made it clear that you want nothing to do with them. as a last-ditch effort, they send logan, who's a little different than the rest

↳ notes: man writing this fucked me up. i kept editing it because i didn't like how it sounded, so some feedback would be much appreciated

↳ warnings: mentions of blowing things up in a past instance, but no one died. reader is a mutant and their powers are kept ambiguous, but it is implied they can somehow cause explosions

↳ song: promiscuous—nelly furtado

masterlist | commissions | carrd

The first time they sent someone, you had been excepting it

You weren't dumb. You knew the difference between an innocent bystander and a hired gun; or at least something along those lines. The way people walked talked and carried themselves was always a dead giveaway, and recently you had been surrounded by a few too many intense stares and stiff shoulders for your liking. A lot more than you were used to, in fact. Maybe that's what prompted you to start taking a new way home from work instead of the usual combination of cross walks and dirty bus seats.

The quick guy with silver hair was their first attempt at contact. You had found him waiting outside your apartment for you to get home all but a week after noticing the new attention on you, and you would have ignored him too if it wasn't for the fact that he was sitting on the outside your balcony, kicking his feet merrily off the side about ten stories above the pavement below without a care in the world. And with what looked like a twinkie in his hand, too.

You'd closed the blinds without a second thought, tossing him a fake grin and a little wave when he eventually turned around as you slammed them shut. You were fairly certain he could have stopped you in no time flat, if the way you would watch him zip away in the blink of an eye later said anything, but you took a heat-of-the-moment gamble and were satisfied when all your efforts got was a whine from the other side of your window pane. His mouth was too full of pre-packaged pastry to say anything in the moment, you realized

"Not interested." You called over your back as you began to retreat into your kitchen without another moments notice.

"You haven't even heard what I want!" He said thickly, clearly trying to swallow as he spoke. You must have startled him a little then. Good.

"And I don't need to."

He left a few minutes later when his one sided conversationalist skills got him no where, and you responded by throwing a frozen pizza in the lower half of your oven.

You had been craving pepperoni all day anyway.

The second person try was a bit more aggressive.

They didn't have the decency to wait for you to come home this time. Instead, you found yourself looking up from your laptop as a chair was pulled out across from you at the quaint table you sat at. It made a scraping noise, and you tensed the muscles in your hands for a moment at the sound.

"Can I help you." Your eyebrow quirked up as you looked at the woman across from you. She had blonde hair, and what you thought were the brownest eyes you had even seen. You had trouble looking anywhere but into them for a second. When they hit the light, you swore they turned yellow just for a moment, and she looked about as annoyed as you were that she was sitting by you. You didn't have to wait long to find out why.

"We've been trying to reach you." The surrounding noise of the café hardly disturbed the hard tone in her voice. "You're avoiding us."

At least this time these people had the common sense to approach you in public. If you were any form of confrontational, which you very much weren't, you could have started a fight the last time. Who knows if you would have won against super speed and whatever else the first guy had— you weren't exactly sure about the extent of his powers, and at this point didn't care —but the point remains that some damage could have been done. Now, in the middle of a coffee shop on a busy afternoon, it would be a bit harder to start a fight. Not that you were seriously concidering it. If anything, you wanted to duck into a large crowd just to loose this new recruiter, or whatever they were called. You didn't exactly know if they had a name for this type of situation.

"I have no idea who you are." Your tone matched her own, dealing out the half lie nonchalantly. You weren't technically wrong, really. You didn't know her, nor did you know that other man that had shown up before. But you knew what they wanted, and you'd be damned if they didn't pin you down without a bit of a struggle.

Moving with a speed quick enough to get your message across, but not fast enough as to alert any of the surrounding coustomers that something was up, you closed your laptop, abandoned your now lukewarm drink, and started for the door. You only paused in your movements after a weight settled over the back of your shoulder, and you carefully turned your neck to look down at the hand resting firmly on you.

"I don't recommend doing that." You said with a bit of a warning tone in your voice, looking her right in the eyes as you did so. They had since shifted from dark brown to an almost hazel shade, and you filed that information away for later use.

Her grip remained where it was for a moment. Then a thought seemed to cross her mind, and she let go of her hold on your shirt; even if a bit reluctantly.

You didn't stick around to see if anything else would happen. You just made your way out of the shop and into the bustling street, not caring if she followed. They already knew where you lived anyway.

"Taxi!!"

The final person they sent for you, you hadn't seen coming.

Every other time— from the teleporting blue kid, to the woman with white hair and fair skin, and even the tall guy in glasses that had turned a little blue when you pushed your way past him —you had been able to prepare beforehand. At the very least you were able to lock your doors before going out and about your day. You knew that wouldn't stop them in the slightest, but it was a silent message to stay out of your business.

But this guy? This guy just didn't care at all.

"You know, you're really nailing this first impression thing."

A gruff voice sprang to life at the same moment that your hallway lights did, doing a fine job at catching you off guard. You managed to not jump, but with the way the intruders lips tilted up, you figured he knew he had surprised you.

"Oh, fuck my life."

You were really not feeling like another impromptu visit tonight. You had gotten home from a rough day of work a couple of hours ago, only to realize that you had finally blown through all your food, and was once more sent back out into the city to look for a grocery store. You had been looking forward to finally resting your feet, and maybe your eyes a few hours earlier than planned, and you most certainly weren't in the right state of mind to entertain this hulking figure of a man and the proposition that came with him.

You looked at him harshly. He had muscles for days, and a brown leather jacket to accentuate just how large he was. You knew for a fact that he was a few weight classes up from the last guy that had been sent to your house, and you wondered if this was their way of trying to intimidate you into forcefully accepting their offer.

Tiny scars dotted his face and the skin on his neck. You wondered why there were so few, considering that you already knew what he did for a living, but also knew better than to question someone like him. Especially since he was already standing in the doorway to your home, looking like he owned the place.

"Go away." You didn't grant him any sort of emotion in your voice as you walked in the direction of your fridge. The plastic bags full of your food for the week swung in your arms, and for a moment you thought this new guy was going to block your way into the rest of the house before he backed off with a roll of his shoulders.

You clocked his broad chest and bruised knuckles out of the corner of your eyes as you opened the ice box and slowly placed some frozen veggies in side by side. He had either gotten here straight from a fight, or was itching for one. You figured it was probably the former considering he hadn't jumped you the second you walked through the door. Or you know, maybe he just had fucked up hands. You could never tell with people at this point.

"You're pleasant." The mans wry smile was nothing but headache educing as you finished putting the cold groceries up. You snorted with hollow amusement.

"Try being stalked for a month and a half. It really makes you feel like being hospitable."

"Try being the guy that gets sent to get in contact with you. It ain't exactly the way I wanted to be spending my Friday night either." He parroted back your words while running a hand down his face and across what you had since recognized as mutton chops in the process.

"When are you going to tell that professor of yours that I'm not interested in his little passion project." You think that might have been the first time you ever directly acknowledged what exactly was going on. Every other time you had just told the other person to get lost or slammed a door in their face to really get the point across, but the way this guy was looking at you gave you the feeling that he wouldn't be as easy to shoo away as the others, and you weren't really feeling up for a giant display of effort right about now.

"You could always tell him yourself, bub." His eyes followed your face as you crossed the room to stop in front of him, hand outstretched with something that ignited a small smirk on his face.

"Trying to bribe me?" He asked, going to take the fresh beer you offered him all the same. You shook your head.

"No. My master plan actually consists of getting you shit-faced drunk so you guys will finally leave me alone." You watched as his hand hesitated in mid-air slightly, and you misinterpreted his silent amusement at your jab for skepticism. "I've just got too much beer and a stranger in my apartment that's not going to leave me alone anytime soon, that’s all." You relented with a shrug.

"Fair enough." He took the brown bottle by the neck and popped open the top without so much as looking around for a bottle opener. When the cap went rushing to the floor less than a second later, you squinted.

"What are you then? Super strong? Or is your power alcoholism." That got a rough chuckle out of him. He swallowed about half of the bottle in one go before answering, and you sucked at your teeth as he did so.

"Something like that."

"Wow. Really feeling the comradery here." You didn't miss the way he deadpanned at that, and you figured he was thinking about all of the times you had kicked every other pursuer to the curb without even letting them get a word in edge wise. Still, you pushed on. "Remind me how its fair that you and your friends know all about me, but I have a new hero-of-the-week showing up on my doorstep every other day without so much as a clue as to what they could do to me?"

"About as fair as your little accident in Colorado." He responded without a seconds hesitation. You felt a little perspiration form on the back of your neck, and chalked it up to the lack of a.c in the room. Even if it was anything but.

"If you're here to try and convince me to join your little superhero team, I hate to tell you, but it isn't going to work. Just like it didn't work the past ten times." You ignored his last comment and made yourself comfortable on your living room couch. "Do you have a name? I've never really stuck around to talk to one of you this long before, and it's annoying to keep rendering to you as 'some guy' in my head."

He paused abruptly while drinking the beer, and you barely held back from rolling your eyes at his change in mood.

"It's Logan." He finally bit out reluctantly. You got the feeling that the only reason he told you was because he was here by request. If it has been any other circumstances, you had no doubts that he would have told you to fuck off. He gave off that energy.

"You already know mine, so I'm not gonna bother." You kicked your feet up and let your head hit the back of the couch with a sigh. "Just let me know when you finally get bored and head out. I want to make sure my landlord knows to blacklist you from the building after you're gone."

"Is this how you got everyone else to leave? By annoying them to death?" Logan sounded more entertained then you would have liked, and you blamed it on the beer.

"Depends. Is it working?"

"I've been sleeping at a school filled with screaming kids for the past few weeks. You're going to have to try harder than that to get me out of here." He took another swig.

"What will it take to get you to leave me alone. All of you." Your voice dipped out of it's usually casual tone for a more annoyed one. You were used to playing the long game when it came to getting people to leave you alone, but at this point it was getting ridiculous with the amount of people that they were throwing at you, and it was starting to wear you out. You weren't sure if Logan could tell your patience was being tested, and you weren't sure if you wanted him to.

Logan raised one eyebrow in your direction as an answer to your question, and you sighed.

"I'm not taking a stupid fucking spot on the X-Men if that's what you're implying. What do I have to do to convince you guys that I'm not up for it; blow up a building on accident or something?" The word 'again' went unsaid, but the implication was there.

You watched as Logan seemed to throw something around in his mind for a moment.

"Do you want to know why I joined the X-Men?" He eventually asked.

"Because you had nothing else to do with yourself other than styling your hair real stupid? Seriously what's with this horn thing you've got going in."

"I joined because they helped pull me off a dark path, kid." He barreled past your sarcasm, shutting you down quicker than you would like to admit. His tone was laced with something you recognized all as hatred, and you knew it wasn't directed at you, but rather himself. You knew the feeling all too well.

"I was running from something that I didn't even know I was trying to avoid." He continued. "And if it wasn't for the Professor and his 'stupid fucking team', I wouldn't have ever stopped."

For the first time in the past few minutes, you allowed one of your walls to come down as he spoke. You stared at him with a tired look lingering behind your gaze, choosing this time to listen rather than to ignore.

"I'm not running from anything." Even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. Logan didn't even have to look at you for you to sigh and lean forward again.

"I can see why the Professor wants you on the team." You felt the cushions on the opposite end of your couch dip slowly as he sat down. The now empty beer bottle was still in his hand, but as you looked over at Logan, you found his eyes filled to the brim with nothing but the honest truth.

It was a strange, tense moment. Both you and Logan could admit that. You were clearly filled with regret for your past actions, no matter how accidental they might have been, and conflicted with yourself because of it. Logan could do nothing more but watch as you battled with yourself over his words. His original plan had been to come here, show off a claw or two if needed, and bring you back to the school with a characteristic scowl on his face. But all that was thrown out the window when you offered him a beer, and when he was finally able to get a good look at you.

You looked exactly how he used to before one of his old cage matches. Detached and losing yourself. He could see it in your eyes.

The room delved into silence. You wrung your hands together and planted your feet. Logan watched as you seemed to have a silent conversation with yourself, and he began to regret not pacing himself with the beer. He wasn't anywhere near affected by the alcohol, that's to say. He just wished he had something to do other than sit in your home with squared shoulders and a furrowed brow.

"If I took one trip over to the place, would you guys let up on whatever this is?" You finally asked. Logan pushed down a faint smirk as you turned your neck to look at him.

"Sure."

You didn't say anything else, and you didn't have to. You got up without another word and grabbed a bag from a nearby closet. Logan found himself leaning on your doorframe as you stuffed a few essentials down into your travel bag in the room over, and he remained there until you finished.

"Still curious about my powers?" Logan decided to bait you just a little further as you shut the door to your apartment with a click of your keys, and he had trouble keeping a straight face when you looked back at him with curiosity dancing across your features.

Without saying anything, he held one of his hands up, and let you watch as his trademark claws popped up slowly. Like seasonal weeds in a garden full of flowers. The appendages let out a slight sliding noise as they did so, and you blinked once. Twice. Three times.

"And I thought my powers were bad." You finally said after a moment, and Logan scoffed at you.

"Kid, everyone thinks their powers are bad at first."

You seemed to take that as a challenge, and Logan watched as a bit of that fire that he'd heard about from Storm and the others flared up in you.

"Yeah? You ever accidently blow up a boiler room and take out half your high school's classes, big guy?" Your grin was all teeth as the two of you made your way down the complex hallway. Logan slowed his pace so you could keep up, and turned around so he could fully look at you as he walked backwards.

"Big guy?" He questioned you with a tilted of his head, looking about as unimpressed as he could.

"I mean yeah." You snickered. "Just look at your, well, everything." You took to gesturing at his entire being, something that got you a huff from the other man.

"Maybe you're just small." He shot back. You laughed and shook your head, looking down at yourself. Yeah right.

"And maybe I'm right, and you're just freakishly big."

Your banter continued all the way down to the elevator, where you had a hard time holding in your laughter as Logan accidentally almost stabbed the down button with his claws, apparently having forgotten that they were even out.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was always like this; if everyone at the school was like this.

Maybe going for a visit wasn't as much as a bad idea as you'd thought.

#xmen #xmen x reader #xmen x you #xmen x y/n #wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #peter maximoff #mystique #charles xavier #x reader #one shot

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molsno · 28 days

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I don't think there's anything wrong with enjoying kids shows as an adult per se, like that's obviously fine by itself. however I think the fact that there are so many Queers™ that almost exclusively watch shows made for children, and that most of those shows were produced by disney, is indicative of a broader trend of reactionary ideologies in mainstream queer society. often they praise these shows for having "queer representation" in some form, such as a gay couple, usually comprised of young children given who these shows are usually about. of course even these meager scraps of representation are often enough to get a show canceled, but the fact is that for them to even be on children's television in the first place, they must be extremely sanitized. disney in particular is notorious for scrubbing any and all content that any hypothetical evangelical conservative might take issue with from their shows, but this is a problem inherent to children's tv.

I say this not to disparage people who like these shows, but to point out that these shows serve to impose heterosexual norms onto queerness, and it concerns me how many queer people seem to be completely fine with this. why should disney channel and cartoon network get to define what an acceptable level of queerness is? the most radical thing you can expect to see is a same-sex couple briefly kissing. they are wholly sexless and sanitized, stripped away of any challenges to heterosexuality, cissexism, monogamy, and patriarchy. Straight People get the idea that they don't have to worry about queerness, as long as it conforms to their sensibilities and doesn't threaten their dominance.

but worst of all is that queer people themselves approve of this sanitization. I suspect the reason that so many queer people's media landscape revolves entirely around these shows is because they seek acceptance into Straight society, and must prove that they won't rock the boat too much. in doing so, they seek out only portrayals of queerness they consider "safe", and eagerly distance themselves from any form of "degeneracy". queer sexuality, for instance, must be a wholly private endeavor, as it is something shameful. any form of kink that isn't acceptable under wider heterosexual norms is something they must vehemently abhor, and engaging in it must be responded to with violence, whether social, physical, or both.

to be clear, I'm not saying that exclusively watching children's shows causes queer people to be reactionary. on the contrary, I think it's the other way around. queer people who already hold reactionary beliefs flock to these shows because it allows them to see themselves in media while still being able to gain temporary, limited access to the heterosexual project and the privileges doled out to its participants. this is deeply disgraceful. not only is the queer project of assimilating into straightness an inherently harmful one given that it necessitates intentionally throwing queer people who can't assimilate due to being trans, black, disabled, poor, etc under the bus and subjecting them to violence; it's also a fool's errand, given that straight people ultimately still hate the queer people that do try to assimilate and will discard them the moment they stop being a useful tool.

#my writing

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66stitches · 10 days

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Marigold

𑁍 bestfriend!abby x reader

𑁍 Summary: Abby loved you in a way she believed you could never reciprocate. Per her friend's advice, she began to avoid you in hopes of healing her aching heart.

𑁍 CW: sfw, angst, a little bit of fluff, unrequited love, happy ending yippe, jealousy, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, reader neither described as masc nor fem, no physical description of reader, fighting, swearing, violence, ellie mention, a lot of crying, pet names, y/n used once only.

𑁍 WC: 5.1k

𑁍 Daily click - Palestine masterpost - TLOU and israel

𑁍 divider creds

𑁍 Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

"Marigold," your best friend, Abby, called out to you. Marigold: a nickname which she had affectionately given to you a few years prior. You faintly smiled at the memory.

𑁍

Abby plucked the orange plant from the bush where it lay. She skimmed her fingers over its fiery petals, appreciating its intricate design with concentrated eyes.

"If you were a flower, you would be a marigold," she spoke solemnly, like she had thought of it many times before.

You smiled. "Why's that?"

“I read somewhere that marigolds are associated with the sun and represent the light that lives within a person," she mumbled shyly and shrugged. "You’re all bright and full of energy, I don't know.” She gave her own interpretation of its meaning.

“That’s how you see me?” Your heart swelled.

“Just a thought."

You sauntered over and picked the marigold from her hand, twirling and playing with its stem.

“Well," you started, "marigolds also represent cruelty, sorrow, and despaired love.”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you have to ruin it?”

You laughed hard at that as Abby grabbed the plant back into her hand. She held it softly and delicately, as though she truly saw you in the flower.

"Alright, forget that depressing version, you're a marigold."

𑁍

"What are you smiling at?" her voice pulled you out of your thoughts at an instance and made you jump slightly. She chuckled softly at that.

"Just thinking."

"Better be about me," she joked.

It was. "You wish."

She smiled as well, but it was not the smile you recognized. There was something different about her lately, something you couldn't quite decipher.

Her smile now held a hint of sadness beneath it; her demeanor had more than slightly changed around you. Lately, she had seemed to be more hesitant toward showing you affection; her mood would suddenly change to that of a dismal one. It made no sense to you. You would sit wondering after every encounter if you had done something to upset her. Did you disgust her?

No, her feelings about you were quite the opposite. Something far from friendly, and that disgusted her.

𑁍

"Hey, wanna help me pick out a film?" Manny placed a hand on your shoulder.

You sat on a soft cushion, surrounded by your friends, Abby, Manny, and Nora.

Well, mostly just Abby's friends. You really only ever hung out with them when Abby was.

Abby had been acting more quiet than usual, barely saying a word to you and avoiding your gaze whenever you tried to meet hers. It was strange. She would constantly ask to see you and sit by you at every opportunity, and yet still manage to act distant. You couldn't tell if she wanted to be around you or not.

You placed your hand over hers and tried to meet her eyes. "You okay, Abs?"

Again, she avoided your gaze. She slowly slid her hand away from yours, leaving your palm cold and desolate without her warm touch.

"I'm fine. Go help Manny," she answered blandly.

You tried to conceal how hurt you were. You didn't know why you hadn't confronted her yet. Maybe you were too scared to finally hear her admit what you already knew: that she was growing bored of you.

"Alright." your voice was small. Manny nodded toward the door, signaling you guys to go, and with that, you were out of the room.

Abby sighed and placed her head in her hands, rubbing her temples.

"She giving you a headache?" Nora chuckled, kneeling forward and placing her elbows on her knees.

"What?" Abby spoke harshly, though her anger was misplaced.

"I see the way you look at her. You can try to ignore it and pretend it's something else, but I see right through you."

"What the hell are you accusing me of?"

"Don't get all defensive. Abby, you are one of my closest friends, I've known you for years. You can't lie to me." She moved closer to Abby and her tone grew more stern, yet still quiet and reassuring. "Now, are you acting this way because you're genuinely bored of her, or is it something else and my suspicions are true?"

"And what exactly are your suspicions, Nora?" Abby chuckled humorlessly.

"You're in love with her."

Abby felt her heart drop and her blood begin to run cold.

"You're ridiculous." She scoffed and began digging her nails into the skin of her palms, a habit she recently picked up every time she got nervous around you.

"I'm right, aren't I? You're in love with her." Nora smiled as if she found this all amusing.

"I-"

"Don't lie to me, Abby," She interrupted, her voice getting slightly louder. "God, I thought you guys were just affectionate friends. Cuddling, giving each other cheesy flower nicknames, I mean, marigold? But no, nobody looks at their friends the way you look at her. They just don't do that."

Abby got up and walked away from Nora as if she were hit with a revolting smell. She stood by the other side of the couch and faced her friend.

"Keep your fucking voice down," she spoke in hushed anger. "This isn't any of your business, Nora. Why are you even analyzing our frienship that way? All you're doing is just making things weird for no fuckin' reason."

She was trying to keep her voice down and control her anger. She knew that her defensiveness probably wasn't doing much to help her right now. "You don't know shit about her and I so I suggest you mind your own business."

Nora got up and walked towards Abby. "I'm not attacking you, Abby. I just want you to finally admit your feelings so you stop torturing yourself and making her feel like shit."

"What?" She furrowed her brows at that. She felt hot all over. She felt sick.

"Of course, you haven't noticed because you avoid her gaze and refuse to look at her as if she was fuckin' Medusa, and don't try to deny it. You know it's true."

Abby's anger faded into something more akin to sadness by that. She never intended to hurt you, she was simply distancing herself to protect her own feelings. Knowing that has caused you to feel bad and doubt yourself hurt her to a great extent.

"Fuck." She felt herself coming close to tears. "You're right. I love her. God, I love her so much." Her voice broke. "I'm disgusting, Nora."

"Hey, don't say that." Nora's voice was stern. There were many times where she scolded the blonde for belittling herself.

"No, I am. She doesn't love me back. I know that for a fact." She felt as her throat began to close up, tears falling in crystal rivulets down her face. She turned her head away from Nora's suffocatingly pitiful gaze.

"I feel like a fucking creep. Always staring at her, reading her affection the wrong way, just thinking about her like that. She would hate me, Nora; she would feel so betrayed." She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and stop the tears from flowing.

"Sometimes I think of just avoiding her completely because I can't handle the way she makes me feel. It just hurts. It hurts too fucking much," she admitted.

It was something she had thought about many times, the pain of an unrequited love being far too much for that empty, hopeless heart of hers to bear. But she could never bring herself to do it.

"Then why don't you? If you believe that would make you feel better, why don't you end it?"

The simple thought of leaving you made her sick. "I can't. I know it's what is best for me, but I can't leave her. I have loved her for too long to be able to live without her."

"Loved her for too long to be able to live without her", Nora echoed back and scoffed. "That's a little dramatic, Abby, don't you think? Look, I know she means a lot to you and you mean a lot to her, but you can go on without her. You're not going to shrivel up and wither away if you let go of her to put your own feelings and well-being first.

"I know it's hard, but if you can't do it for yourself, do it for her. You're only going to hurt her more and more by ignoring her and pushing her away. Trust me, Abby, just end it and let her move on."

She was right. Abby knew she was. She knew that things were not going to get better and she would merely be hurting the both of you by being selfish and not letting you go. She cursed her feelings and tried to ignore them as she finally decided on what she needed to do.

She gave her answer with a simple nod of her head, but nothing about this was simple.

"Yeah? Alright, let's wipe those tears away before she and Manny come back."

And that is what she did. She sat back down and tried to regain her composure and appear normal, as if she hadn't just decided to let go of you.

The door opened as you appeared. She tried to ignore how the mere sight of you played with and tugged at her heartstrings; how it hurt an infinite times more now knowing that this might be one of the last times she sees you.

"Manny wanted to watch an anime, but I thought a slasher would be better. We got Bride of Chucky and Carrie. You guys can pick whichever one you want." You placed the films on the table.

"If only One Piece was an option." Manny sighed and sat back down.

Nora placed her palm on Abby's shoulder and gave her a look of both pity and encouragement, as if reminding her of what she needs to do.

Abby sighed and got up. She grabbed your bag and handed it to you as you stood bemused.

"Come on, I'm driving you home."

She may have been ending things, but she certainly did not intend to let you go home yourself.

Or maybe that is only what she was telling herself; maybe she just wanted to spend a few more moments with you. Even if she knew those moments would be spent with her being distant and you once again doubting yourself, it did not matter as long as she got to enjoy the privilege of being in your presence. In the end, she was always selfish.

"What? Weren't we just about to watch a film?" You were confused. You didn't know what you had done this time to upset Abby and it was killing you.

"Stop messing around and come sit back down, pendeja."

"Let them go, Manny," Nora sighed. "Have a good night guys." You noticed the look she gave Abby, almost the same look she gave her when you first walked back into the room. Now you are left wondering what they talked about while you and Manny were away. Had Nora said something to upset her?

Thoughts and questions plagued your mind as you made your way to Abby's car. You wished she would just speak to you; you wished you could know whether she still loved you or not.

You didn't want to keep wondering what you've done wrong. You wanted an answer and you were adamant on getting it.

Abby entered the car and sat herself in the driver's side. You could see clear as day the tension in her body. She looked sadder than you had ever witnessed before, and she had yet to say a word or look at you.

"Abby, stop." You stopped her fiddling with her keys by once again, putting your hand over hers. You could see the way she immediately melted into your touch, the tension visibly leaving her body before swiftly yanking her hand from yours as if you had burned her with a scorching flame, and that ignited a flame in you and you could not hold yourself back.

"God, Abby, what the fuck is your problem? Why do you keep acting like this?" You yelled, but she did not even do you the decency of looking back at you, instead simply placing her key into the ignition. But you could see it. You could see the way the tension rushed back into her body, her hand shaking from how hard she was clutching her keys.

"Abiga-"

"Drop it." She interrupted. Her tone was low. You could tell she was deliberately trying to keep her voice calm. For some reason, that just made your anger flare up.

"Drop it? Are you fucking kidding me? Abby, why don't you just tell me what I did wrong? Just tell me what the hell happened to us and why you seem so disgusted by me. Stop leaving me wonderi-"

"God damn it, y/n, I said drop it!" She yelled abruptly and punched the steering wheel. You stayed quiet, not knowing if you should keep going or simply drop it.

Abby was never this angry, at least not toward you. She had always been more calm and patient with you, even in your most difficult moments. You still didn't understand what you had done to deserve being on the receiving end of her anger.

"No marigold?" Your voice was small. Smaller than you wanted it to be. It was you who should be yelling, not her.

Abby's eyes softened. She felt her throat tighten up as tears threatened to fall, but she was not going to let them. She knew you did not deserve this. She wanted more than anything to just give up and drag you into her embrace. Hold you close and kiss away your tears. She was supposed to make you feel safe and happy, not be the cause of your sorrow.

The ride back to your house was tense and quiet, both of you trying not to break down into tears. Abby deliberately drove slow. Even though the car ride was painful, she did not want her last moment with you to end so soon. She did not want to leave you no matter how much staying in your presence hurt her, so she was going to drag it out for as long as she could, just as long as she got to sit with you, as long as she got to hear you breathing beside her; as long as you were together, she did not care.

Then came the hopeful moment where you arrived home. Hopeful for you, because to you, you would see her again the next day, and perhaps you could talk and all would be better. Dreadful for her, because she knew this was the last time she was going to see you.

She knew she needed to tell you that she was ending your friendship. It would be cruel to keep you in the dark and give you false hope. But she could not bring herself to. Maybe she did not want to admit it herself that things between you were coming to an end.

You left the car and shut the door without a word, not turning around to meet her gaze one last time.

And then she broke.

Hot tears swarmed down as she placed her palm tightly over her mouth despite there not being anybody around. She did not want to hear the pathetic sound of her own cries.

She wished things between you would have at least ended on slightly better terms. She wished she could have been able to hug you one last time; she wished she never had to let go.

Her cries turned into broken sobs as she dug her nails into her skin again in an attempt to shut herself up. She rested her head against the steering wheel as tears proceeded to fall.

It was cruel, simply cruel. Why must she be one condemned to love? Despaired love as you had said describing the marigold. That is all she felt. It tore visciously at her heart and polluted her soul.

Now she had lost you and all she felt was painful desolation. How she wished she could tear her heart free from you, her marigold.

𑁍

Came the next day and you still hadn't heard a word from Abby. She never showed to apologize or attempt to reconcile. You now found yourself pacing around your small town waiting to see her. You could have just went to her house, but you had a feeling you would not be so welcomed.

Who you saw, however, was not Abby, but her friend Nora. She sat on the worn-out bench across the stone road from you, seemingly lost in thought. If Abby was not willing to talk to you, perhaps Nora would.

You made your way toward her, determined to get an answer from her. "Hey, Nora."

She immediately recognized your voice and got up from her seat. She met your eyes and gave you an unexpected sympathetic look.

"Hey, how you holding up?" She placed a soft hand on your shoulder.

"Fine? I guess?" You didn't know why she looked so sympathetic for you. How awful was your appearance? Did you look ill? "Look, Abby has been avoiding me for... whatever reason. We had an awful fight after I tried confronting her last night. She refused to tell me what is going on, so I've been wondering if she had said anything to you."

Nora let go of your shoulder. She now looked irritated, and you wondered if perhaps you shouldn't have involved her in this.

"My God, how stupid is that girl?" She sighed dramatically.

"I'm sorry?"

"Look, dear, come sit down." She sat back down on the bench beside you and gestured for you to follow.

You began to hear your heart pound loudly in your ears. It was obvious now that Abby had said something to Nora. You began to fear the worst. You took a seat next to Nora as she turned to face you.

"Abby did speak to me." So she did say something to her after you and Manny left. "I don't know how to lay this on you easily, she was the one supposed to do it, but I guess she was too fuckin' scared or something." She cupped your hand between hers, only making you feel more nervous. "I am just going to tell you to stop trying to speak to her. It's better to move on now and try to forget about her."

The pounding in your ears had crossed deafening and you felt your blood run cold. "What? What the hell are you saying, Nora? She's my best friend, it isn't over." Your voice was shaking but you would not allow it to break. You were not going to cry in front of her.

"I'm sorry, but it is. It's not my place to tell you why, but just know, it's not your fault. Just don't try to talk to her. You need to leave her alone." Nora was then getting ready to leave as she feared she might say too much.

"What do you mean it's not my fault? Obviously I must've done something for her to leave me!" You tried to keep your voice steady, but you hated how vague she was being. It's one thing to lose a person you love, it's another thing not knowing why. How many people knew besides you? Was it just Nora Abby confided in or had there been more?

Nora apologized once again before she got up and left you with your thoughts. Guess she wasn't going to stay to comfort you.

It didn't matter what Nora said, there was no way you were not going to try to talk to Abby again. You were not going to allow this to happen and move on.

The walk to Abby's place was not long considering how small the town was. You pondered everything you were going to say to her on your way there before you began pounding on her door.

A few more knocks, and there she was, your best friend, attired in a sleeveless black shirt and sweatpants of that same color. She had her hair down and she looked as beautiful as ever. Oh, how you missed looking into her eyes.

All she said was your name. It was quiet, filled with both adoration and and sorrow. She knew what you were here for, but how lovely was it to see you again.

Before even answering, you pushed open the door wider and invited yourself in, now standing in her living room.

"You shouldn't be here." Abby sighed and shut the door behind her.

"Kick me out, then," you said harshly, but she made no move.

"Abby, Nora talked to me. Tell me what is going on," you demanded. Abby was taken aback. She was definitely having a talk with Nora after this.

"What did she tell you? She had no right-"

"No, Abby, you had no right! How could you just leave me like this without a word? Do I mean that little to you?" You intended for this to be calm, but your voice was only getting progressively louder. You knew soon there would be more tears as well.

"You can't just end our friendship without at least telling me why. It's like you're doing it on purpose, like you want to torture me by not letting me know what the fuck is going on or what I did to make you hate me like this."

"Don't say that." Her voice was low. She was leaning against the door and pinching the bridge of her nose. She was on the brink of tears herself, but she would not allow herself to break in front of you. Not when she caused this.

The fact that you think she hates you hurt her, but maybe that would make it easier for you to move on. All she wanted was to just go back in time and be able to hold you as she did before, all devoid of guilt.

But what she desired far more than that, was to be able to tell you she loved you and to hear you utter those words right back. If it were up to her, she would bound her hopeless soul to yours. Spend her days in this life loving every inch of you and have it be reciprocated.

But it was all impossible in her eyes. The laughable notion of you ever returning her love was nothing short of ludicrous. You would never love her the same way she loved you.

And that is why she knew she must let you go.

"Why not? You've given me no reason to think otherwise. You ask to see me just to ignore me. Why Abby? Just tell me what I've done. I can't keep worrying and wondering anymore."

She began to feel overwhelmed with all her thoughts running and your confrontation. You had the right know what was going on, she understood that, but still she could not bring herself to tell you, and that angered her even more. She was weak. You render her so.

"Have I not made it clear that I don't want to see you anymore?" She snapped before she can even realize. "We're over, get that through your skull. Stop trying to talk to me or reach out to my friends and just leave me alone. All you're doing is just embarrassing yourself!"

She knew she would never forgive herself for yelling at you like this. Maybe if you hated her, it would be easier for you to move on. For both of you. "I don't want to see you again." Lies. All lies.

She did her best to avoid your gaze. She knew that seeing the look on your face would only cause her to break once again.

Tears began to lightly cloud your vision. You caught your bottom lip in between your teeth and bit down on the tender piece of flesh to prevent yourself from crying. It was finally apparent to you that she did not care enough to talk to you and attempt to rectify what has destroyed your friendship.

As much as it hurt, you needed to force yourself to accept the fact that your best friend no longer wanted anything to do with you. And God, did it hurt.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and gave a slight nod.

"Fine." A simple answer, and you were out.

𑁍

Tedious days and sorrowful nights passed achingly slow, days turned into weeks, and you finally came to accept the undeniable and dreadful truth that your best friend won't be coming back. You couldn't deny how you would pathetically wait around for her to speak to you again; to apologize and to reassure you and to hold you.

Oh, how you wished to have her hold you again; to feel her touch and to hear her call you marigold, if only it were for a last time.

You've stopped debating whatever you might have done wrong after the first few weeks. None of the conclusions you'd ever come close to made the least bit of sense, and you knew trying to figure it out wouldn't bring her back.

You'd imagine how she must be now, how relieved she was to finally have you out of her life. How very little did you know.

"Dude's an idiot."

But you weren't so lonely anymore. Only three nights ago, your old friend decided to surprise you by paying you a few weeks visit from Seattle. Quite a convenient timing.

"Uh, who?" You had to admit, you didn’t pay a second of attention in the last thirty minutes to the film playing in front of you, which should be a cause for concern considering The Lord of the Rings was one of your favorite films.

Your friend, however, didn't take notice of how distracted you were, too engrossed in the film you guys watched together more times than you can count, her hazel eyes fixated on the screen.

"Aragorn. I mean, Arwen's hot and all, but how could a sane person not be willing to throw their whole life away for Éowyn? I wouldn't think twice, just sayin'."

You simply hummed in reply, your mind slowly drifting away again. That finally caught her attention.

"Hey." She paused the film and diverted her attention to you. She held your chin with a gentle touch in an attempt to make you meet her eyes, her scarred eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Is someone in there?" She teased.

"Yeah, I just got a little distracted. Sorry." That only made you feel more guilty. Your friend was here to see you while you were too busy thinking of the one you lost.

"Don't be sorry. Were you thinking about her?" She didn't wait for a response, she knew you were. "Come on, talk to me. Tell me how much of a bitch she is." She backed away to lean against the arm of the couch.

"Don't call her that."

She lazily threw her hands in the hair. "You're right, sorry. I won't call that cunt a bitch."

"Ellie!" You yelled with faux anger, trying to contain your laughter.

Despite how down you were these past few weeks, you were happy Ellie decided to come and see you. No matter how sad you were, she always knew how to put a smile on your face.

That's something she's always been good at. Her natural devilment and sarcasm being one of the first things you've noticed about her when you first met.

"There she is." She laughed with you, taking slight pride in the fact that she managed to make you smile in your days of gloom.

"It's just, fuck, I don't wanna believe that we're really over." You really didn't have much to say about it anymore, having already told her of all that happened a few days prior.

As soon as Ellie laid eyes on you again, she noticed the underlying hint melancholy on your face beneath the faux smile you presented. You attempted to reassure her it was nothing, but she knew you too well.

You'd spilled your broken heart out through the cracks Abby left while Ellie tried to mend it. She held you while you cried and cursed Abby for hours, wiping away your tears and promising to never abandon you the way Abby did.

"Dina's lucky to have you." You said, sniffing while Ellie was busy patting down your hair, trying to make you look slightly more presentable after the breakdown you just had.

"Damn right she is." She finally let go of your hair, now using her thumb to wipe away one last tear running down your damp cheek. "But you have me too."

Ellie's gaze was unfocused as she stared at the wall behind you, apparently lost in thought.

"Come on." She got up swiftly and grabbed your hand, pulling you up with her. "Let's get your mind off this, yeah?"

You groaned and dropped yourself right back onto the couch. "Let me wallow." You dragged out the last syllable dramatically. You grabbed a pillow and hugged it to your chest, as if you were shielding yourself.

"Don't be a baby. You've done enough of that," she said and harshly yanked the pillow from your grip. "Besides, she's not worth all that wallowing." She pulled her arm back and threw the pillow at your head. "Now get up."

"Ow!" you feigned shock as you rubbed the left side of your head. "That hurt!"

Ellie rolled her eyes at your childishness. "That's not even the side I hit you on, dumbass," she said lightheartedly before dragging you up.

You let out another exhausted groan as you were being pulled up. "What do you even wanna do?"

"Well there's TP-ing Abby's house, or we could also key her car, maybe kill her dog."

You gave her an unimpressed look as she went on.

"Or we could also go for some ice cream." She slapped her palms together.

You sighed and grabbed your purse off the counter. "I'm on board, let's go."

Ellie grabbed her signature grey-blue hoodie off the couch and slipped it on. You wondered when was the last time it was cleaned. "On board with which one?"

"Oh, shut up." You tried to conceal the hint of laughter in your voice. For some reason, you wanted to remain upset. You didn't want to try and move on, and that almost confused you more than Abby did "You wouldn't even be able to live with yourself if you hurt a dog."

"Yeah," she agreed and shrugged. "I'd probably just take it for myself. That'd still hurt her at least."

𑁍

"Now, marigold, what flower would I be?"

"Uhm..." you tried to put some thought into it. What kind of flower would Abby be?

"Nightingale," you concluded.

She furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't know much about that one. Why nightingale?"

"Nightingale, Abigail, it rhymes."

She rolled her eyes and chuckled, placing the marigold behind your ear. You looked like the most beautiful thing, she thought. "You really put a lot of thought into that, huh?"

𑁍

a/n: no joke I've had this rotting in my google docs since I was SIXTEEN and only decided to post it now after finding it again. I already started working on part two. I'll post it if this does good holy shit i'm nervous

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caxycreations · 11 months

Text

Okay, I've been nerd sniped, I'm sorry

NOTE: If you're going to reblog just to say "not reading that" or some other rude shit, DON'T. I've seen so many notifications of people just saying they couldn't be bothered to read it. I don't know if it's just that they don't see how incredibly rude and disheartening that is or if they know and don't care, but either way it really hurts to see, so please don't reblog if it's just to tell me you won't read it.

So let's go through the canonical likelihood they could each beat Goku. For the sake of keeping canon, we'll keep groups/pairs together if they would never reasonably be apart for something like this. Long post below the cut.

So first up are the ones I see that would, without a doubt, beat Goku.

Saiki K

Saiki is an omnipotent psychic/psionic with quite literally every single possible power out there. Now, this on its own isn't enough to beat Goku. Versatility doesn't mean everything, but Saiki is also powerful enough to rewrite the genetics and reality of everything within range, and his range is, so far, "Earth".

So this, on its own, would allow him to rewrite Goku's biology to make him Human. Bye bye zenkai boosts, bye bye Saiyan transformations. And Saiki, with his powers, has no trouble beating a Human of any caliber if he truly wanted to. And for those who ask "Why would he ever fight Goku?"

One simple reason: Goku would sense his immense power, and be excited for a fight. Goku is respectful enough to not force one if he's refused, but he's persistent enough to badger Saiki until he's given a chance. And Saiki, being Saiki, would simply take off one of his limiters, or both, and rewrite reality as such: "Being an alien isn't possible", thereby making it effective immediately that Goku must be lying/insane, and he is, in fact, Human. Easy win for Saiki.

And for those who would argue against this, bear in mind, the funniest way to beat Goku in this instance would be to simply make him weaker than Saiki, and Saiki is a gag character from a gag series, and it's already been shown in the world of Dragon Ball, and again in Dragon Ball Super, that Goku is incapable of defeating a gag character regardless of that characters canonical ability.

Saiki could win without gag character status, but even in the instance of Goku "beating" him, the gag would turn out to be that Saiki only pretended to get beaten, and is actually entirely unharmed because it was the easiest way to get Goku to leave him alone. Followed by a reveal that Goku will still show up now and then to ask for sparring matches, to drive the point home.

Popeye

Gag character. Would get beaten handily, crawl his way to spinach, and then be exactly as strong as he needs to be to take Goku down in however many hits is funniest.

Bugs Bunny

The gag character to end all gag characters. Someone on this hellsite once described Bugs as a "Trickster God who traps us in our own societal expectations" or some such. Like convincing Thanos to remove the Infinity Gauntlet by establishing a security checkpoint with a metal detector and shaming him into cooperating by telling him there's others waiting.

He could beat Goku in a billion ways, and each and every one of them would involve some shenanigan like Goku throwing a spirit bomb, Bugs showing up behind him holding it, saying "Ehhh, can you hold this for a second?" and as soon as Goku takes it and Bugs is off-screen, it would explode and Goku would be a pile of ashes with blinking eyes. Bugs would win because Bugs' gag is that...well, he simply can't be beaten.

The Warner Trio

Gag trio. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot would snark, sass, and sarcastic-joke their way into the scene, and they would spend the entire time poking fun at him, roasting his look, being unfazed by his attacks because "Nice laser show but we didn't bring our glowsticks." and just being too unbothered to care.

They would undoubtedly annoy Goku into admitting defeat simply to get away from them.

Road Runner

Gag character. Would force Goku to chase him, Goku would fire some blasts, chase him around, and inevitably be led right into the path of a blast he fired earlier to be disintegrated by it.

Pop Team Epic

I know nothing about this series except that it is a gag series. They are gag characters. That means Goku is inherently incapable of beating them.

ASDF Guy

Gag character. Could beat Goku with a simple "Hello, Mine-Turtle!" or "I like Trains."

Heart Diagram

Goku was literally killed by a heart virus in Future Trunks' timeline. This is one that has actually canonically already killed Goku.

Chowder

Gag character. Would likely be after S-Cells for some recipe and need to take Goku's as he's "The only Saiyan in this episode!" or some such, thereby ending the fight with a shot of Chowder wearing Goku's Gi for comedic effect while Dahl stirs raw Super Saiyan aura in a pot to hint that Chowder killed Goku for his S-Cells.

Force Ghost Trio

Gag versions of serious characters, and also ghosts. Goku is canonically unable to beat ghosts or gag characters, and these guys are both.

Those are the ones that would, without a doubt, beat Goku.

Now, let's go over the ones that could, potentially, be it likely or unlikely.

Kirby

Kirby is often considered a gag character, but he isn't. He has a very specific level of power, even if that level of power is "fuck you" levels of power. Kirby has beaten Gods, but so has Goku, even more often and with greater ease. However, Kirby has absorption and power-theft. Kirby could, potentially, absorb Goku (he isn't the brightest and Kirby has his unassuming appearance on his side) and take on his strongest form, including its powerup, and given Kirby in base form is likely more powerful than Goku in base form (Goku needed SSJ to scare Supreme Kai, Kirby beats Gods in base), it's possible Kirby would be more powerful than Goku with the same power up.

Kevin McCallister

Okay, hear me out.

Kevin is technically a gag character, BUT. He is not TRULY a gag character. He just happens to be a comedy character.

So he isn't guaranteed to win, but he could still possibly do so. How you ask?

Goku has been somewhat injured or lightly shaken by the following: planet-shattering attacks. Punches that rock the universe. Energy blasts so potent they would destroy entire galaxies.

Goku has been rendered inconsolable from the pain of the following: chest pain and a half-heartedly, boredly tossed pebble.

It is canon that when Goku and the other fighters in the series are expecting an attack or primed for battle, they are protected by their ki, like armor. It's how they're able to knock away attacks that would destroy planets, or put their "bare" hands on plasma energy that would normally burn the skin off you from a mile away let alone touching it.

This is why when Krillin threw the rock at Goku, it left him in agony and bruised him despite Goku being in Super Saiyan form at the time. This is why Chi-Chi is able to injure Goku regardless of how strong he gets.

So, how does this relate to Kevin being able to beat him? It's everything. It's critical information.

Kevin McCallister's entire M.O. is unexpected attacks. You open a door, you see a bucket fall, think it's over, turns out no, second bucket pulled by the first, second bucket is full of paint and open, you're blinded, you get your bearings, you take a step and feel cars, you smirk and step over them only to find marbles, you slip, you land on the cars which turn out to have been rigged to break easier to let loose a single thumbtack which is now firmly stuck in your back or butt. You bolt upright only to slam your head on a 2x4 that was rigged to hang down from a rope when you fell because your impact shook things enough to make it fall from a precarious perch above.

You get the idea. Every time you think it's safe to let your guard down, that's when the next wave hits. So you say "well he would stop letting his guard down" right? You fool. You know nothing of Goku. He would never put his guard UP. This is a human child, Goku can sense his pitiful power level. His strength? His speed? His ki? Weak. Pathetic. Nothing. A scouter wouldn't even register his power it's so low.

Goku never raises his guard to Chi-Chi, or to Bulma, or to Hercule. He does not raise his defense against normal, powerless, non-combative humans.

"BUT KEVIN IS COMBATIVE" No. He isn't. Goku can sense intent, power, and location. But Kevin isn't actively intending to hurt Goku. He's intending to protect himself and his home. He's not actively wanting to hurt Goku, he's just wanting Goku to leave. He doesn't have power to threaten Goku with, so Goku won't pick up on any threatening aura. And while Goku could simply instant transmission to Kevin and do what he will, we're not talking about how Goku could win, we're going over the fact Kevin could POSSIBLY win.

Enough injury and Goku is down for the count. Otherwise, Goku leaves to avoid further injury, and thereby admits defeat. Both cases, Kevin wins.

Shedinja

This one took me...quite a while. I had to do a lot of extra research for this. So, my immediate thought was Shedinja is a Ghost type, so ghost rules, right? Nah. Bug and Ghost type, and they are the physical shell left behind that has been reanimated. So they very much are physical beings, and given their ability to faint in the games and show they are capable of being physically damaged.

But There's a real case to be made for Shedinja beating Goku.

It can learn Ghost type moves, which operate on ghost-logic, and therefore are a canon weakness Goku is known to have. So things like Shadow Ball, Hex, Curse, and the like would all effect Goku regardless of Ki or form.

It also has access to Wonder Guard, which renders it "immune to all damage types that are not Super-Effective". For those unaware, we can actually attribute Typings to Goku's moves based on attributes and traits they share with Pokemon moves. His melee is, by nature, Fighting type, which Shedinja is immune to. In fact, Shedinja is immune to ALL attack types except Flying, Rock, Ghost, Dark, and Fire type moves, which are all Super Effective.

Goku's most common methods would actually fall under Fighting and Normal type attacks. "But his Ki blasts-" would be Normal type moves. You want proof?

Focus Energy is Normal Type. Quick Attack is Normal Type. Self Destruct is Normal Type. Techno Blast is Normal Type. Tera Blast is Normal Type. These are all energy based moves similar to ki blasts. Know what other energy based move is Normal Type? Hyperbeam. Which is almost identical to the Kamehameha and every other beam attack in DBZ.

Those few attacks Goku has that aren't going to be Normal Type will be Fighting Type.

Shedinja is Immune to all Normal and Fighting Type moves. Goku literally can not damage Shedinja, but Shedinja can damage Goku through Ghost Type moves. Shedinja can beat Goku. But why is it not "absolutely will" beat him? Because Goku can also transform his Ki and if he finds out Shedinja is vulnerable to fire, he can and will use that to his advantage.

That's who could potentially beat Goku. Here's who absolutely could not.

Saitama

I forgot to go over Saitama originally so here's the edit that features that analysis. Bear in mind I am saying this as someone who has seen Seasons 1 and 2 of the show AND is aware of some of the events of the manga.

A lot of reblogs over Saitama claim he is a gag character. But there is a case to be made that he is NOT. What is that case you ask? Well, for the sake of fairness, here is how I am handling gag characters: if their gag is in effect in 100% of all cases (such as looney tunes like Bugs or Road Runner) or if the gag is triggered in 100% of all cases (such as Saiki K or Chowder) then they are a True Gag Character and will insta-win.

However, if their gag has failed (such as Wario, or, yes, even Saitama) in ANY case, then it CAN fail again, and the fairest fight is one against two non-gag characters, so we can safely apply non-gag Saitama here since his gag has failed and Goku meets the conditions to cause it to fail again, which I'll explain.

So, first off, how does his gag fail? Well, his gag is that he kills everything instantly in one hit, unless he actively chooses not to. So we can safely say his gag fails if any of the following are true: he fails to instantly kill an enemy with a single hit while intending to do so, OR if he fails to kill an enemy with a serious hit intended to kill.

He meets both of these conditions. Boros survived for several seconds AFTER Saitama hit him with a Serious Punch. It was a single hit that intended to kill...But he didn't kill Boros INSTANTLY with it. Another example of his gag failing, if that doesn't satisfy, is Garou. Garou, in the manga, has survived MULTIPLE Serious Punches with intent to kill. This, on its own, is proof Saitama's Serious Punch does in fact have a limit to its output. It also proves his gag can, and does, fail against certain opponents.

So the next thing we need to look at is similarities between Garou and Boros to identify what they share that could possibly allow them to get around Saitama's gag, or to nullify it entirely. First similarity is that both are determined to have a good, satisfying fight. Boros crossed the stars seeking one, and Garou sought to become a true Monster powerful enough to force every hero, every do-gooder, to unite under one banner just to take him down. They both seek a battle to end all battles, even if Garou's intention is to end it in his favor, not simply enjoy the fight.

The second similarity is that they have incredibly unique circumstances, even by OPM standards. Garou is a man who has always felt love for the bad guy, he looks to the monsters as inspirations, as the misunderstood and the victimized by those claiming to be heroes. He's trained by an S-Class hero, and has developed into a being of unimaginable power in the pursuit of his dream. Very much a true foil to Saitama, who looked to heroes in comics as inspirations, as the righteous and unshakably moral, self-taught through and through and developed into a being of unimaginable power in the pursuit of HIS dream. Garou is, in this way, a reflection of Saitama, the Tails to Saitama's Heads, the dark to his light.

Boros on the other hand is an alien, forced to become strong by his homeworld's unforgiving conditions, developing a level of power necessary to survive and then some, and on realizing he was far too powerful for his own good, he sought purpose, meaning, and when he heard he may find a worthy opponent, he did everything he could to achieve that future, to realize his dream of facing a foe that would give him a true challenge.

So what are the similarities we can identify? Notably unique circumstances even by OPM standards, sharing strong similarities to Saitama's desires or dreams (Garou dreaming of becoming the greatest Monster vs Saitama dreaming of becoming the greatest Hero, Boros feeling lost in life and seeking a worthy foe vs Saitama feeling bored with living and wishing for the sensation of a real fight again), and the desire for a serious and ultimate battle.

Goku fits ALL of these conditions. He is an alien sent to Earth for his protection, grew up in hostile conditions (surviving on his own for most of his childhood, constant battles with Nation-level threats throughout his teen years, constant battles with world or universe-level threats throughout his adulthood), trained extensively until he was the best of the best, has the ultimate dream of a truly satisfying battle (a dream he routinely seeks out by facing down powerful foes), and being entirely bored with mundane life because there's absolutely no challenge to it, not to mention the fact he has the ultimate dream of becoming the strongest, something he shares with Saitama's pre-OPM self.

Since Goku fits ALL the conditions needed to make this battle exempt from the gag, we will NOT be considering it, as Saitama is not a True Gag Character, and Goku fitting conditions for nullifying it means we can assume actual power limits and such.

So let's look at feats of power. Saitama's Serious Side Hop technique allowed him to create AT LEAST 60 after-images (based on the manga panel) which, when compared with Sonic's 4, means Saitama was moving 15x faster than Sonic in that moment (bare minimum). An afterimage like that is created by moving at least 572mph, stopping in each position for at least 1/255th of a second (any less and the human eye can't pick up on it), so by moving from position A to B for 1/255th of a second and back to A, going 572mph between the two, you create the afterimage.

Sonic creates 4 simultaneously, meaning he needs to move to 3 positions and then back to starting position, or go from A to B, B to A, A to C, C to A, A to D, and repeat.

This means Sonic, to move into each of these positions in less than 1/255th of a second, would need to be moving ~4x faster than the speed for one afterimage. That puts him as moving at 2,228mph while creating those 4 afterimages. Given he is capable of Mach 5 speeds (he's said to be hypersonic) this feat is easy for him, as Mach 5 is 3,805mph. I assume, just as it's easier to move at top speed in a straight line than at sharp turns for a normal person, it's likely more difficult to create such consistent afterimages and so the difficulty that makes it his best attack is from the technique and reaction involved, not the speed itself.

In any case, if Saitama made at least 60 afterimages, putting him at 15x faster than Sonic's speed while creating 4, that puts Saitama's speed at 33,420mph just to account for the 60 we can count in the manga panel. This means 33,420 is the MINIMUM speed we can assume for Saitama's max ability. To be generous, given he wasn't winded after doing that and given he was able to react incredibly easily to the near-instant directional changes, I'll be kind and put his maximum speed at 10,000x this number.

That puts Saitama's speed at 334,200,000mph, or 49.8% the speed of light. We'll be kind again and say 50% the speed of light, round up that last .2%

So we have a speed value for Saitama. Now what about Goku? Well, let's look at Goku on Namek, for a moment. Base form Goku, at the start of his fight against Freeza. Goku, BEFORE his super saiyan transformation, was moving at 3.26 (we'll round down to 3) times the speed of light. How do I get this number? Buckle up, it's involved.

The Namekian ship Bulma, Krillin, and Gohan took to get to Namek made it from Earth to Jupiter in "seconds". That means less than a minute, so we'll say it took them 1 minute just to lowball it and to have a solid starting number. Jupiter, when the two planets are at their closest to each other (assuming shorter distance for slower speed, another lowball), is 365,000,000 miles from Earth. This means the Namekian ship moved 365mil miles in 1 minute.

That puts the Namekian ship at a speed of 21.9 billion miles per hour. They made it to Namek in 30 days of travel. The ship Goku took to Namek made the trip in 5 days. That means Goku's ship is 6 times faster than the Namekian ship. Don't worry, the ship speed DOES matter in this, I promise you.

So Goku's ship moves at 131,400,000,000mph. That's 131 billion, 400 million miles per hour. Or 195x the speed of light.

Why does the ship speed matter so much, you might ask?

Because King Kai could visually keep up with the ship. He was able to track Goku's progress with ease, and could see his ships movements without problems. This means King Kai's eyes and brain are capable of perceiving and processing things that move at 195x the speed of light.

Why does that matter? Because Super Saiyan is canonically a 50x multiplier to ALL base ability. Strength, speed, durability, etc.

And Goku, in Super Saiyan, was moving so fast King Kai stated he could no longer keep up. King Kai, capable of seeing and processing the input of vision on a ship moving 195x the speed of light, could not see or process the input of vision on Super Saiyan Goku.

We'll lowball it, and say Goku only needed to move 1 mph faster than 195x the speed of light for King Kai to lose track of him. So whatever value we get, we'll add 1mph to for Goku's base form speed.

So 195x the speed of light +1mph. 195/50=3.9x the speed of light. That's 2,616,900,000mph, adding in the extra mph makes it 2,616,900,001mph. So Base Form Goku moves at ~3.9x the speed of light, ON NAMEK. Super Saiyan is a 50x multiplier, putting him at ~195x the speed of light. Super Saiyan 2 is a 100x multiplier to Base, so 390x the speed of light. Super Saiyan 3 is a 400x multiplier, so 1,560x the speed of light. Super Saiyan God is a 20,000 multiplier so 78,000x the speed of light. Super Saiyan Blue is a 1 million times multiplier, so 3,900,000x the speed of light. And lastly, Mastered Ultra Instinct is a 300 billion times multipler, so 1.17 trillion times the speed of light.

Why did I bother going through all those multipliers? He wins in Base as of Namek saga lol. Anyway, continuing on to strength now that we've established Base Goku on Namek could move 3.9x faster than the Speed of Light while Saitama could only move at 0.5x the Speed of Light.

Strength. Okay. This one is harder to gauge, but we CAN gauge it. We'll go in terms of level of damage, so human level (would be on-par or less than peak human ability), town level (small towns), city level (large cities), nation level (an entire nation, less than a continent), continent level (one or more nations that span an entire continent), world-surface level (the surface of an Earth-sized planet), Planetary (capable of destroying an entire Earth-sized planet), Solar (capable of destroying a solar system), Galactic (capable of destroying a galaxy), multi-galactic (capable of destroying many galaxies), Universal (capable of destroying an entire universe), Multiversal (capable of destroying multiple universes).

We'll start with Goku this time. Goku's punches are, as of the Battle of Gods arc, strong enough to match Beerus perfectly to nullify the shockwaves of Beerus' attacks. Mind you, the mere shockwave of Beerus' attacks are enough to rip and tear the fabric of the universe itself, as stated by Elder Kai. This puts Goku's punches as being powerful enough to tear the fabric of the universe in when he first obtained Super Saiyan God. Why does this matter for Base Goku? Because Base Goku retained his SSJG power, as stated by Beerus.

So Goku in Base, post-battle of gods, is physically capable of punches that can tear apart the universe from the aftershocks alone. This is important to note because Elder Kai could physically feel the shockwaves from the World of the Kais. This makes Goku Universe-level in strength. This means Goku, post-BoG, in Super Saiyan is 50x stronger than what's needed for Universal, while Goku, as of current manga canon (assuming he didn't actually get any stronger since BoG and is simply more powerful due to new transformations) is capable of a form (Mastered Ultra Instinct) that puts him 300 billion times stronger than minimum Universe level strength.

And Saitama? Where does he fit here? Well, I thought this gap would be bigger honestly? But after researching, it seems the gap isn't all that big. Saitama has, canonically, with a Serious Punch, snuffed out an entire cylinder of stars and presumably every planet, moon, asteroid, and more, at a distance surpassing that of our solar system, and with a diameter surpassing it as well. This puts Saitama's power (if we lowball it MASSIVELY) at Solar. He could, in a single punch, destroy our entire solar system, and he wouldn't even need to be serious to do it. It's worth noting this is coupled with Garou's own Saitama-level Serious Punch, so we can assume this level of power is double Saitama's own.

So how do we determine the specifics? Well, he cleared an area large enough to cover, presumably, half the area of stars destroyed in the path of his and Garou's serious punches.

Through future revelations in the series we learn they didn't "destroy" every star in that path, but likely only several were destroyed, and possibly a galaxy, while the remainder of the void left behind was from the shockwave forcing every other star within range into a new position, creating a void in space that all stars had been moved from, save the few that were in the DIRECT path of their attack.

Another theory is that the Serious Punch^2 simply distorted the photons in the area, resulting in the appearance of a massive void, and this theory is based on the angles in the manga and comments made by other characters that paint Earth as the only thing in real danger from the power of the attack.

To be fair to Saitama, where we would lowball Goku, we'll highball Saitama, and say the Serious Punch^2 outright destroyed every star in the area. That level of power would, naturally, have shockwaves that push nearby stars out of the way AND distort photons in the area, resulting in a massive cone of destruction surrounded by a large cylinder of force.

This puts Saitama at, quite easily, multi-galactic level of strength.

But why did I say this gap isn't as big as I expected? One simple thing. Saitama has canonically punched his way into a different dimension in the manga. That means he's capable of brute-forcing his way out of the bounds of his universe. He is capable of physically destroying the fabric of the universe.

Meaning Saitama's strength is, bare minimum, Universal in close proximity. That puts him, strength-wise, on par with Goku, who through training has become stronger than Super Buu (who was so strong he could shout his way out of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, a dimension separate from our own), meaning Goku is also Universal in close proximity.

So...while I expected Saitama to be ~Planetary, MAYBE he'd be Solar at most...Research indicates he's actually Universal, or near-Universal, meaning the fight may not be too far a gap after all.

Goku may have Saitama beat on speed (given recent manga events in OPM, I'm willing to allow that Saitama is faster than light speed, but Goku having as many forms as he does (Kaioken, which he can combine with other forms and can hit a multiplier of x100 on top of whatever power he currently has, SSJ1-3, SSJG, SSJB, MUI) means even if Saitama matches Base Goku, he's likely not going to stand up to his stronger forms).

But on strength, I'd wager they're close enough for this fight to be one hell of a battle.

What about Durability? After all, all the strength in the world won't save you if you're as easy to kill as a simple bullet to the head, right?

Goku has withstood universe-ripping punches (from Beerus, the God of Destruction, and based on comments in the manga he's one of the stronger Gods of Destruction too), dimension-tearing attacks (from Goku Black, pre-Fusion), energy blasts that even the Gods of Destruction were nervous of (from Jiren during the Tournament of Power), and he survived multiple blasts from Granolah post-wish buff, who was renowned for his sniping power pre-wish, and post-wish was as powerful as he would be if he had spent every single second of the next 147 years training non-stop with the absolute healthiest amount of rest and physical care, making him, presently, as powerful as he would be at the END of that time, with the price paid being that he only had 3 years to live as he lost 1 year of his lifespan for each power boost.

It was also clear that Granolah was the strongest in the universe...at the time of his wish. Goku and Vegeta, who were already on their way, were not as powerful as Granolah even with their transformations. They became stronger during their fight with him, and stronger still during their fight with Gas (who was more powerful than Granolah after Gas transformed and mastered his transformation).

So we can safely assume Goku is Multiversal in Durability, as he himself was able to output Universal damage with each punch, and he was able to survive hits from beings drastically stronger than himself.

What about Saitama? Well, Saitama was able to survive the force of the Serious Punch^2 and he was able to casually bust his way into another dimension. So his Serious Punch, if he wanted it to, could easily destroy the barrier between universes or dimensions.

And given he survived the force of two of them impacting each other, I would put Saitama at, bare minimum, Universe-level durability. But given he was able to survive prolonged battle against Garou, who is a Power Mimic and has shown Saitama-level strength, we can safely assume Saitama is BEYOND Universal-level durability, and so we can put him right there with Goku at Multiversal durability.

So what do we have so far?

Goku has speed equal to, in Base Form, 3.9x lightspeed, and 1.17 trillion times lightspeed in his most powerful form.

Goku has Universal level strength in Base Form, 300 billion times that in his most powerful form.

Goku has Universal durability in Base Form, Multiversal durability in his most powerful form (300 billion times his Base Form's durability).

Saitama has speed equal to, at minimum, 0.5x lightspeed, and at maximum, if we highball it, 2x lightspeed.

Saitama has Universal strength.

Saitama has Universal durability at minimum, and Multiversal durability at maximum.

At this point, I'm convinced the speed difference between Base Goku and Saitama means nothing. Saitama's durability means even with Base Goku moving at his top speed, his impacts won't be enough to beat Saitama. At top speed Base Goku may be putting out Universal damage, but he's not putting out enough to actually BEAT Saitama. Only injure.

Making me rethink my "Goku wins in Base lol" claim earlier, how dare you!

Anyway, at this point, Goku would HAVE to transform to beat Saitama. His ability to sense power and Saitama's evident inability to suppress it (as evidenced by multiple characters sensing his ungodly power even while Saitama is completely relaxed) would mean Goku would know, right away, he needs to transform for the fight.

Saitama's durability means Goku would likely need Super Saiyan 2 or 3, or, more likely, SSJG. Super Saiyan God's multiplier to Granolah-arc Goku, after all of his training with Whis and Vegeta, would most likely be enough to beat Saitama. And given SSJG is enough to "most likely" beat him, then Super Saiyan Blue (aka Super Saiyan God Super Saiyan, the form above SSJG) is surely enough, and Mastered Ultra Instinct (a form drastically more powerful than SSJB) is absolutely more than enough to beat Saitama.

And given Goku's mastery over the Kaioken technique, and he's been shown to enter Kaioken x 20 while in Super Saiyan Blue for fair amounts of time as of the Moro saga, meaning even if SSB wasn't enough, given MUI is overkill, it's possible SSB x10 or x20 would be.

The point being, Goku wins this fight due to a combination of technique, experience, and power from his transformations. Given Goku is faster than Saitama and would sense his power as Saitama doesn't know how to suppress it, nothing Saitama could do would be a surprise attack to Goku, meaning Goku would have ample opportunity to react to everything Saitama does.

And given the relatively similar strengths the two bear, Goku would recognize he needs to transform to beat Saitama's output.

And given Saitama's greater durability than Base Goku, and greater durability than even what Saitama himself can put out, Goku would see he needs to transform to have enough of his own output to beat Saitama's durability.

Conclusion: Goku would absolutely win this fight, BUT...I'll give Saitama credit where it's due.

Out of everyone on the entire list, Saitama is the fairest matchup here, and the one most likely to give Goku a truly satisfying fight, given it would be a battle on par with those Goku has enjoyed most.

Kingdom Hearts Mickey

K.H. Mickey has a clear power limit and ability set. He is not strong enough, fast enough, smart enough, or durable enough to beat Goku, but he is just enough of a threat for Goku to actually put his guard up, which is why K.H. Mickey would lose; Goku would see it as a fight, unlike with Kevin.

Crash Bandicoot

Crash isn't nearly powerful enough to be a threat to Goku, but he IS insane enough to push Goku to hostility. Goku would feel the need to put effort into getting him away and that is his downfall.

Hatsune Miku

Goku would assume she is a Red Ribbon android and fight her on assumption she's trying to kill him or bring harm to Earth. He would hit her full force expecting her to tank it and she would keel over dead instantly.

Wario

Everything he could possibly do, the Red Ribbon Army has tried and done better, and they've never beaten Goku. Neither would he.

Sans

Lost to a child with slightly above average human determination, and standard human strength and speed. He does not beat Goku.

And just because you specifically told me not to @ you, have this :)

@that-one-enby-onyx

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ambrosiagourmet · 5 months

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Rin Masterpost

Rin! Rinsha Fana! Beloved side character I think about far too much (or maybe not enough?)

I decided that it might be nice to put together an informational post about Rin, since she has some of my favorite background details of any character in Dungeon Meshi. This is partly as reference for myself, and partly for anyone else who might be interested in her but not know where to chase down the tidbits we we get of her, both in canon & extra materials. There’s also a little bit of theorizing and analysis sprinkled in for fun.

If anyone spots something I missed, please let me know and I will add it in!

Alright. Time for ultimate #rinposting

History and Timeline:

We don't have an official timeline for Rin (even in the expanded Adventurer's Bible, sadly), but we can put a lot of pieces together based on Kabru's timeline & their respective ages.

Rin is 2 years older than Kabru, and they met when he was 9. Assuming that he met her soon after she was taken to the elven capital, that means that the elves took her when she was 11.

Before that, she lived on the Northern Continent. Interestingly, when Mickbell asks about Shuro, Rin says she was born "here."

Since "here" doesn't mean the actual Island itself, it must mean simply "not the east." She is described in the Adventurer's Bible as having "no real knowledge of or attachment to the East," so maybe that's why she draws a "there" verses "here" line.

I'd also like to add a note here that the elves don't seem uh... they don't seem great about respecting the value of other cultures, especially those of short-life species. Milsiril seems to have discouraged Kabru from eating or remembering food from his hometown, at least, and that's even as an adoptive parent who cares (at least in some way) for her child. As I will touch on later, the "care" that Rin was under probably had even less respect for her history or ties to either Eastern or Northern culture.

That is all to say, considering that Rin spent many years with the elves, I'd take her having "[no] attachment to the East" as more of a comment on how she feels now, and less as a definite choice she made. She may genuinely have chosen that approach and opinion for herself, she may have been pushed towards it by the elves, and she may have had little choice at all in the matter - all are valid interpretations, though I personally lean towards the thought that it's unlikely the elves didn't have at least some hand in it.

Anyway, Rin does seem to know at least a bit about her heritage - she can presumably name and identify the specific island her parents are from, and she recognizes that "Shuro" isn't a name used there. She also knows that different places from the Eastern archipelago speak different languages, so she knows at least a little about the other islands as well.

Some additional extrapolations I'll make based on these facts: she never mentions, and probably isn't in contact with, any family from her island. This may be because her extended family died, because her parents didn't (or weren't able to) maintain contact, or because she lost contact when she was taken by the elves. Somewhat relatedly, she also prooobably doesn't speak the language, at least not fluently, though her being able to comment on the state of language in the archipelago makes me think that she at least learned a little as a kid.

Anyway, Rin's parents were refugees from the archipelago, though we don't know what specifically caused them to leave. There is this little tidbit of info we get (from the cover of chapter 48, of all places), though:

So yeah, that seems like it would be the backdrop of Rin's parents fleeing. As I said earlier, it's unclear if Rin might have any living family left back on her island. The listing she has for “family” in the Adventurer's Bible is just a dash, but so is Izutsumi's, for instance, and we know that she was taken from her family with no knowledge of who might still be out there. It's possible everyone else was killed, it's possible they were separated... it's possible that Rin's parents didn't even know.

As an additional note, and this is speculation on my part, but I think there is an argument to be made, with this tidbit from the cover as well as the Nakamoto clan's specialty in espionage and use of ninjas, that the politics of the archipelago are partially based on Sengoku era Japan. Not necessarily super relevant here, but I think it's interesting context for all... of the archipelago characters, honestly.

(Especially considering it seems like the Nakamoto clan is in a relatively comfortable position, and yet clearly are involved, or at least prepared to be involved in larger conflict. How stable is their position, really? How is Shuro's father viewed by the wider region and archipelago as a whole? What about his lord? NOT THE POINT THIS IS A POST ABOUT RIN. BUT IT'S VERY INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT.)

Okay, back to Rin's parents.

Whatever caused them to leave, they made their way to the north, where they made their living with their magic for a time. There are no specifics about what kind of magic they used, but we know at least some examples of jobs that magic can get you, based on the flashback to Laios and Falin's childhood in chapter 26. Laios proposes that Fain could use her magic to be a priest, gravekeeper, or wandering exorcist. Though these are specific to Falin's affinity with spirits, they give some idea of the shape of the work that might be available. It's important, but it is also on the outskirts of society - not necessarily admired or appreciated by the average person.

And Rin’s parents were killed by vigilantes for that magic. It's not entirely news that superstitious villages in the area would sometimes kill magic users - we see a small drawing of people being burned at the stake in a panel towards the end of the manga:

Nonetheless, Rin is the only person in the main cast who has experienced this brutality firsthand. And she did experience it firsthand, having been found by the elves as the sole survivor within the burnt ruins of her home.

It is unknown exactly how she survived, or what happened to her parents before and during the fire. Rin lived, and they did not.

The elves came some time after the fire, intending to investigate reports of ancient magic. They (and we) don't know if Rin's parents actually did use ancient magic, or if the reports and murders were simply spurred by general fear and superstition. Rin was the only piece of "evidence" that remained, and so she was taken back to the west with the elves when they left.

We don't know much about her time on the Northern Central Continent (where the elves/Canaries are based), but it doesn't seem like she was adopted or taken in by anyone the way that Kabru was. According to the Adventurer's Bible, after being taken into custody, "under their care she was treated as a captive animal would be." I would guess that means very basic food and shelter, little to no education. Probably the most social contact she got was from Kabru, as well as maybe, occasionally, from elves treating her as a curiosity, such as in this bit in the Adventurer’s Bible:

Assuming she left with Kabru (which seems like it is the case, there's no info about them having separated during that time), she spent 9 years with the elves, and has been with Kabru on the Island in the 4 years since then.

She also stays in the Golden Country after the end of the story, apparently working as an apothecary.

Additional Details (& Speculation):

What does she remember of her family and home?

I'd like to take a moment here to explore a little of what Rin might remember of her parents and home.

For reference, we can look at Kabru. The canaries came to Utaya when Kabru was 6, and he arrived in the capital when he was 7. He remembers the events of the tragedy in his home, and has some memories of his mother and life in Utaya, including memories of local dishes.

Rin lost her parents and home at 11, so she presumably has much clearer memories of the events that lead to her being taken by the elves... or she might, assuming that they haven't been completely blocked by her trauma from the event.

Yeah, I am fairly damn sure that she's got some memory issues from trauma and PTSD. For one, this is the state she was found in:

As already mentioned, she was also treated like something of an animal by the elves. She probably didn't have a lot of contact with other people, which would further perpetuate that sense of isolation and dehumanization. What I'm getting at here is that Rin probably didn't have much to help pull her out of this place, or heal these wounds. She had Kabru, who was also a kid and even younger than her, and she had herself.

Obviously trauma leaves different scars on everyone, and everyone responds and copes in different ways. But I do think it is interesting that we never hear anything about Rin's parents or life before the elves, and there are no real details about it given in the Adventurer's Bible the way we have for Kabru. What's presented is more surface level facts: they were refugees, they made a living with magic, they were killed.

I'm inclined to believe that things are laid out this way because that's how Rin holds on to these things. She knows things about them, but possibly remembers them more as things she was told/knows to be true, rather than actual memories she can picture herself experiencing.

Rin's Magic

In an interesting counterpoint to her potentially spotty memory, I do actually think Rin may have learned magic from her parents (or started learning, and was self-taught from there). She never attended a magic academy, and actually has a bit of grudge against people who did - owing to the social protection afforded to "upper-class mages," which her parents did not have. She also almost certainly wouldn't have been taught by the elves, who not only treated her as an animal but also knew her parents may have been involved with ancient magic.

Falin began to show signs of magical talent at 8, and was sent to the Magic Academy at 10, and that was as someone who had absolutely no guidance about or exposure to magic in her home town. Raised by two mage parents, I think Rin absolutely could have been learning some things by the time she was 11.

In terms of continued learning, I'll add that Rin is able to identify Marcille's magic as being A) from an Academy student, and B) cast by an elf:

This makes me think that she continued to study magic on her own while held by the elves, and probably even more so after leaving with Kabru. They didn't form the party until two years after they left the elves, which would give Rin plenty of time to try and learn from other adventurers on the Island, or to study up on her own. She'd probably be able to pick up some dungeon-crawling basics (like the water walk spell), as well as become familiar with the skill level and expression of skill common in different people with different backgrounds (hence why she is able to comment on the "textbook" academy wards).

Much like Marcille, Rin also seems to rely on a 'one size fits all' Big Boom method of dealing with monsters: lightning. We see the best example of its power in the fight with Chimera Falin:

But we also see her cast it pretty recklessly in a few other places, including the end credits of the new anime ED, which I think provides a good example of the downsides to such an approach...

Yeah, it is very much a 'get out of the way or get zapped' spell.

Especially since Marcille's offensive magic is self-taught and works very similarly, this definitely reinforces the idea that Rin figured most of this stuff out herself.

Outfit and Character Design

Dear sweet Rin of the Red And Black... how I love her design.

First of all, her clothes are damaged. Despite the fact that Rin looks relatively well put together overall, her outfit is worn out. I have some theories on why this is that I'll get to in a bit, but for now I'll just touch on what this design communicates in general about it.

I think, just like with Kabru's horribly messy room, it creates a sense that there is something more complicated underneath the surface. Something that isn't being addressed or seen to, just as the dress hasn't been mended or replaced.

It also reflects her not caring a ton about her appearance. She's neat, but she's not concerned about being pretty, so she doesn't bother with fixing up her outfit after her dungeon crawls. This also fits with her perpetual scowl (which I will talk more about in a bit), and slightly disheveled hair.

Next: the gloves. At first I thought they might be a sort of uncomfortable-with-touch thing, but after skimming through the manga and some bonus content, I have another theory. Rin takes the gloves off to eat, as well as a few other instances, such as when working on a spell with Holm and Marcille in chapter 36

This one is especially interesting because she has them on in the next chapter, during the fight with Falin. Since she also isn't wearing gloves during some of the Daydream Hour art of her outside of the dungeon, that leads me to believe that they are specifically for combat.

What does she need them for, though? Most other casters we see don't wear gloves. Well... just look at the other half of the page where she attacks Falin with lightning:

She is enveloped by this spell. I said it before was pretty reckless magic, but maybe its not just a problem for her teammates, but for her as well.

So here's my theory: maybe the gloves are rubber, or some other electricity-resistant material? They might help protect her from her own magic. I don't know why a caster would need gloves for combat otherwise.

I also think this might be why her dress is tattered at the bottom, by the way. Especially since the Daydream Hour genderswap design doesn't have a similar problem with his outfit, since the tunic isn't as long.

I will admit this is a bit of stretch/guess, but I think it's a fun one, and I wanted to share. I do think I'm right about the gloves being for dungeons/fighting specifically, at least. That seems pretty consistent throughout all of her appearances.

I also mentioned her scowl, so I'll touch on that briefly as well. The (fairly confirmed) explanation for Rin's expression is that she intentionally wears a frown to prevent her other expressions from showing through. I think it's important to emphasize that it's not just smiling that she is trying to suppress here - it's any strong emotion:

Anyway, because I can, here is the art of Rin smiling.

Rin and Kabru

I have talked a bit about Rin and Kabru's history, but I think it deserves its own section.

I think it's very interesting that Rin is pretty much the ONLY character in all of Dungeon Meshi that has explicit canonical romantic interesting in someone. It's literally part of the main summary sentence in her character profile.

This could be sort of reductive as a way to describe a female character (and in some ways it still is), but I think in part the simplicity and directness of it actually is part of what makes it so interesting. Especially when on the very next page we see the comic about her backstory. "This mage is in love with Kabru" -> one page of a horribly traumatic event and a child frozen in shock with no one to comfort her. What does that do?

Well, in my opinion, it shows how much Rin focuses on Kabru as something to keep her in the present. In contrast with the immense loss she has experienced, her love for Kabru is current and alive. He has presumably been her anchor for years, and I think that her love is part of that anchor.

Adding to this, in contrast with how explicit her feelings are, she never seems to actively pursue Kabru. She complains about his potential interest in other women, but she doesn't really flirt. She doesn't let herself smile around him any more than anyone else, and she doesn't hide her bitterness or anger from him to present a more appealing persona.

As much as she craves Kabru's attention, and has stayed by his side for years, I don't know that she really wants to possess him. He seems to know about her feelings, more or less, and she seems to know that he knows. Maybe she believes he doesn't reciprocate and is respecting that, maybe she's afraid of what she could lose if she tried to change things, or maybe the change itself frightens her. In any case, though she's not exactly happy with the way things are between them, she doesn't seem to be trying to change that status quo.

A specific thing I'd also like to talk about with their relationship, beyond Rin's love for him, is her fear for him. As the Adventurer's Bible puts it, "she worries that his knack for dealing with whatever life throws at him might lead him to get too full of himself and end up in serious trouble."

Rin is an interesting mix of restrained and explosive, herself. Her magic is destructive, her temper seems to run hot (she gets annoyed easily, at least), and her feelings for Kabru are apparent. At the same time, she doesn't let her emotions show on her face, she is the one who bluntly states that the group has hit the limit of their abilities, and she doesn't act on those obvious feelings for Kabru. It's interesting, then, that what she fears for Kabru is that he won't restrain himself.

And a small personal idea about that as well: I wonder if she somewhat blames her parents for getting killed. Again, this is very speculative, but I think it's interesting that her fear for Kabru is that he will get too full of himself. Take up too much space. It's never really stated what Rin thinks of her parents, but it can be easy in grief to search for control, and control often means blame. If they hadn't been so confident, so flashy, would they still be alive...?

I don't know if she's ever thought like that, and it could well be that her fears for Kabru come from a totally different place. But it's an interesting connective thread between her past and present - the idea of "getting in trouble" for taking up too much space and being too confident in one's own abilities.

Miscellaneous Tidbits:

On that note, I'd like to wrap up the main part of this post, and move on to a few extra things that I couldn't find another place for.

Rin plays with her hair when she's stressed

Using stressed as a pretty big umbrella here, because I think it's hard to perfectly pin down all the emotions at play, but it is a habit of hers. Best displayed in chapter 32, but it shows up in other places, too.

Her design contrasts with Marcille

This is a small thing, but I just love how much they are visual opposites.

Rin wears red and black and has dark hair, Marcille wears blue and white and has light hair. Marcille cares a great deal for her hair and puts it up in elaborate hairstyles, and Rin's is mostly loose and a bit messy. Marcille was even educated at the Magic Academy, which Rin dislikes. They both have little capelets. Also they both look very cute in each other's clothes.

Rin knows Flamela (and they meet again in canon)

Nothing much is done with this in canon, but I think it’s super interesting that Flamela's squad are the ones that find Rin as a child and take her away to the west, and then they end up stuck in the dungeon together for a bit.

Two days??? I'm so very curious what things were like between these three.

Aaaand I think that's all I have to say about Rin! For the time being at least. There's a lot more analysis that could be done about her and Kabru especially, but for this post I wanted to keep things at least somewhat anchored to canon facts, with only a layer or two of speculation on top.

If it isn't already obvious, I think Rin is a super interesting character with a ton of potential depth to explore. She mostly interacts with Kabru in canon, but has ties to a bunch of other characters: she and Marcille fill similar roles in their parties but have differing personalities and histories, she and Falin (and Laios) have been tremendously shaped by xenophobia and fear of magic common in the Northern Continent, her parents fled from conflict in the same region Shuro and his retainers are from, and she has history with Flamela and some of the second canary squad.

Her temper, her fear, her love... her repression and passion - they all inform her character, even in small ways, even with as little time as she spends on the page.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #rinsha fana #rin dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmeshi analysis #thank u to anyone who takes the time to read this ♥️♥️♥️ I love rin and lot

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 5 months

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Imagine having deep discussions with the Whitebeard pirates

Ace: Have you ever wondered why the world government opposes people so far away from them, doing what we do?

Marco: [mutters] I wish you would just stop saying odd shit.

Whitebeard: well we're breaking the law, obviously.

You: It's a little deeper than that. It's because what many pirates do, is the same thing the world government does.

Marco: We are not similar in any way.

You: no, think about it, what does the world government do? They lay out a bunch of rules and if you don't follow them, they use violence to force most of the world into following them. And if a nation elects not to join the world government, or can't afford to join, they raid and pillage those islands and take their citizens as slaves.

Izou: On the other hand, if a nation does join the world government, they have to pay heavenly tributes, because if they don't, the Marines will raid and pillage your country. But if they pay the heavenly tributes, the marines will protect their nation from outsiders, like pirates and non-world-government-nations.

Whitebeard: However, on top of paying the heavenly tribute, the average person also pays local and national taxes, so it's a heavy burden for some countries.

Marco: Oh my gods, it's like a protection racket, that common thugs run, just on a massive scale.

Whitebeard: and, like many pirates.

You: they don't like pirates, for the same reason they don't like common thugs, because you all are muscling in on their turf.

Thatch: so most governments are just organized, and socially acceptable, thuggery.

You: Not all, look at Alabasta for instance, King Cobra has a lot of social programs for his people. Food programs and affordable housing for the poor. Medical programs that put a doctor in every village and a bunch of other stuff. The people should receive something back from their government besides 'protection'.

Ace: I know a lot of nations that are in the world government have a large lower class that they exploit labor from and bleed them dry with taxes, tolls, and fines. I can never forget what I saw at the Grey Terminal out of the Goa Kingdom's Great Gate.

Thatch: That's because in "normal society" they value wealth, and look down on and take advantage of people who don't have it. Meanwhile, in pirate culture, we value strength and look down on and take advantage of those who are weaker, like how we raid other crew's ships because we can, and they can't stop us.

Izou: [sighs] That's an oversimplification If I ever heard one.

Thatch: [steps into Izou's space bubble.] You got something to say to me?

Izou: I've been to both world-government nations and non-world-government nations, and I can tell you that they value both strength and wealth. It's just different classes value one over the other. The upper and more privileged class values wealth, and daintiness because they can hire the strong. While the less privileged value strength, because it helps them survive, because they don't have money.

Thatch: I know that, did you forget I grew up poor as shit, mister little daimyo's vassal-boy.

Izou: And I was a wandering beggar minstrel before that, also keep Oden's name out of your mouth.

Thatch: how about you fucking make me?

Marco: [hops between the two men and dramatically claps his hands together like a clapperboard.] Aaand scene, that was a brilliant performance, gentlemen.

Ace: it was almost hard to tell that you two are actually friends.

Thatch: [huffs] Alright, I'll take it back, I'm sorry Izou.

Izou: I'm sorry too

You: you all are too fighty.

Ace: bitch, you're the most stab happy out of all of us.

You: I am not

Whitebeard: Just last night, you stabbed Vista's hand with a fork because he kept reaching over your plate.

You: ... I did do that, but only after asking him to stop three times. Which is more than reasonable, he's a grown-ass adult, and he, and his fuck ass mustache, should know basic table etiquette by now.

Ace: and then you stabbed me for no reason, with the same fork!

You: that was for good measure, just in case you got any ideas!

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #marco #marco the phoenix #marco the pineapple #izou #thatch #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #4/22/24 #no beta we die like men

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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months

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"troublesome" words

Lie, Lying, Lay, Lain vs. Lie, Lying, Lied, Lied

"Lie" is an intransitive verb meaning "to rest" or "to be at rest." Its forms are: lie, lying, lay, lain. Examples: Lie down. 2) Lying in the sun dries our skin. 3) The parcels lay on the table. 4) We have lain in the sun for thirty minutes.

"Lie" can also mean make an untrue statement. It is an intransitive verb whose forms are: 'lie' and lying (present), 'lied' (both past and participle.) Examples: 1) Please don't lie to me. 2) He was punished for lying. 3) They lied to their parents. 4) They have lied before.

Unlike "lie," "lay" is a transitive verb, so it always takes an object. Remember that "lie" never takes an object because it is intransitive. The forms of "lay" are lay, laying, laid, laid. Examples: 1) Lay the bricks here. 2) He was laying the bricks in rows. 3) Yesterday he laid the bricks ten high. 4) He has laid all the bricks in the wall.

Note that the present tense of "lay" is the same as the past tense of "lie."

Its vs. It's, 'Tis

"Its" is the possessive of the pronoun "it." Note that there is no apostrophe. Example: Its appearance was misleading.

"It's" is a contraction meaning "it is." Example: It's a long way to Tipperary. "It's" can also be a contraction meaning "it has." Example: It's been a long day.

"'Tis" is also a contraction meaning "it is." Example: 'Tis seldom used in modern English.

Set vs. Sit

"Set" is, in most ordinary uses, a transitive verb needing an object. It means to put or place something in a certain position, or to arrange. Its principal parts are: set, setting, set, set. Examples: 1) She set the table. 2) He set the watch.

"Sit" is, in ordinary usage, an intransitive verb. It means to rest somewhere (like a chair) in an upright position. Its principal parts are: sit, sitting, sat, sat. Examples: He sits down.

"Sit" can also be used to talk about where an object is located. Example: The clock sits on the shelf. In a few instances "sit" is used as a transitive verb, such as in: He sat himself down.

Your vs. You're

You have probably encountered confusion between your and you're in many Internet posts.

Sometimes people write comments like "your so pretty in this picture" when they really mean "you're so pretty in this picture."

So what's the difference? Just remember—you're (with the apostrophe) is a contraction meaning you are, but your (no apostrophe) indicates possession or ownership.

Their, There, and They're

"Their" is the possessive form for the plural pronoun "they." Example: They used their money on video games.

The word "there" has several meanings. As an adverb it means in, at, or about that place. Example: Place the book there.

When used as a noun, "there" means that place. Example: Are you from there, too?

When used as an interjection, "there" expresses an exclamation of triumph or relief. Example: There! It is finished.

"They're" is a contraction meaning "they are." Example: They're going to the show.

To, Too, and Two

"To" is used as a preposition or part of an infinitive phrase. Examples: 1) We are going to the store. 2) Are you going to sing a song?

"Too" is an adverb meaning also or to an excessive degree. Examples: 1) I am going too. 2) You are just too much.

"Two" is the number 2. Example: I have two dollars.

You and I vs. You and Me

"You and I" are pronouns used as either the subject or the predicate in a sentence. Examples: 1) You and I are going. 2) The winners are you and I.

"You and Me" are pronouns used as direct objects, indirect objects, or objects of prepositions. Examples: 1) They have chosen you and me. 2) The reward is for you and me.

Who vs. Whom

Some people think the main difference between who and whom is the way they sound, with whom being the more formal way to say who. In reality, the distinction between them is grammatical.

Even though who and whom are both pronouns, they do completely different jobs in a sentence—who acts as the subject while whom acts as the object.

Just remember to use who to refer to the person who is propelling the action in a sentence; use whom when the person is having the action done to them.

You also use whom, never who, as the object of a preposition.

Who: Subject pronoun; never use as the object of a preposition Whom: Direct or indirect object pronoun; Must use with prepositions

Some examples:

Students who study hard usually earn excellent grades. The pronoun, who, is referring back to the subject, students. (Who earns excellent grades? The students do.) Because the pronoun is referring to a subject, it would be incorrect to use the object pronoun whom.

Earning excellent grades also depends on whom you study with. This sentence has two clauses, but for the purposes of this lesson we'll focus only on the second one, whom you study with. In this clause, whom is the object of the preposition with, so it would be incorrect to use the subject pronoun who.

Hint: You can replace who with other subject pronouns (he, she, I, we, they, etc.) and whom with other object pronouns (him, her, me, us, them, etc.).

The comedian who is on TV right now is the funniest guy I've ever seen. ⇒ He is on TV. Who is the subject of the verb is, so you can replace who with he.

My cousins are the family members whom I see most often. ⇒ I see them. Whom is the direct object of the verb see, so you can replace whom with them. You'll notice that the placement of whom is different from that of other object pronouns—whom generally comes before the subject and verb while other object pronouns like them come after the subject and verb. For that reason, it might not be obvious at first glance that you can replace whom with another object pronoun (you would never say them I see).

A Couple of Sticky Situations: Who vs. Whom

There are certain sentence types that make it difficult to decide whether to use who or whom.

Object of One Clause, Subject of Another This situation involves two verbs with a pronoun between them:It was pitch dark, and I couldn't see who was coming down the hall.Notice how who seems to "stick" to both verbs—it looks like the object of the first verb and the subject of the second. So which pronoun do you choose, who or whom? There's a simple answer—subjects speak louder than objects because they propel the action in a sentence, so always "stick" with the subject pronoun who.

Preposition Separated from its Object Take a look at this example of traditional formal English: For whom are those flowers? Chances are you've never heard anyone ask a question that way. When we talk, the preposition "unsticks" from the pronoun and moves all the way down to the end of the sentence: Whom are those flowers for? Still sound strange? That's because most people would say Who are those flowers for? but it's really better to use whom because it's the object of the preposition for. It's easy to tell when you're dealing with an object-preposition separation because you can replace whom with him, her, me, us, them, etc. Question: Whom are those flowers for? Whom is the object of the preposition for. Answer: The flowers are for her. Now, in the answer, her has become the object of the preposition for.

Note: Traditionally, it is incorrect to end a sentence with a preposition, but when we talk it happens naturally. Many teachers still prefer their students not to end sentences with prepositions, but this rule has become more relaxed in recent years.

All Ready vs. Already

"All ready" refers to a state of readiness. Example: They were all ready to go. In the case of a singular person, the "all" in "all ready" can be dropped to just say, "Are you ready?"

"Already" means prior to some specified time. Example: They were already packed and ready to go when he arrived.

All Together vs. Altogether

"All Together" means in concert or in unison. Example: They sang all together.

"Altogether" means wholly, completely, or absolutely. Example: This is altogether strange.

All Ways vs. Always

"All ways" or "all the ways" means every manner possible. Example: She was in all ways very humble.

"Always" means at all times. Example: She was always humble.

Everyone vs. Every One

The terms everyone and every one may look the same, but they are used in different contexts.

Everyone, as one word, is a singular pronoun that refers to a group of people. It's synonymous with its sister pronoun, everybody.

Remember, even though a group is made up of several members, everyone is always singular because you refer to those members as a single group.

Everyone is used only for people, never animals or objects.

Everyone I know is coming to the pool party on Saturday. Multiple people are coming to the party, but they are being treated as a single group.

These cookies are for everyone. The cookies are for a group.

Every one, as two words, is a phrase that refers to the individuals that make up a group, not to the group as a whole. It is synonymous with the phrases every single one and each one.

You can also use it for emphasis to give your sentence a little more "oomph." Just like everyone, every one is always singular.

However, unlike everyone, every one can refer to anything, including people, animals, and objects.

I think every one of these cakes is delicious. This sentence emphasizes that each individual cake in the group is delicious. You could simply say "These cakes are delicious," but it wouldn't have the same effect.

Every one of them is coming to the party. This sentence also uses every one for emphasis. It's not just everyone who's coming to the party—it's every single person in the group.

Hint: Here's a little trick to help you remember the difference between everyone and every one:

When every and one join together (everyone), you are focusing on the group as a whole—the two words work together as a single unit.

Everyone laughed. (The group laughed.)

When every and one stand alone (every one), you are emphasizing individuals—the two words work separately.

Every one of them laughed. (Each person laughed.)

Award vs. Reward

"Award" means to bestow an honor or object by a considered decision. Example: The principal gave academic awards to the top students.

"Reward" is something given in return for something done, either good or evil. Example: He was rewarded with cookies.

Anger, Angry vs. Mad

"Anger" (Angry) means a strong displeasure and antagonism directed toward the cause of a possible wrong or injustice; wrath; ire. Example: I am angry.

Madness (Mad) means a suffering from or manifesting severe mental disorder; insane; lunatic; psychotic; crazy. Example: Madness is a severe mental disorder.

Note: It is common in informal everyday expressions for the word "mad" to be used for "angry." This covers the explicit and formal meaning of the words.

Can vs. May

In formal speech writing, "can" implies the ability to do something. Example: I can throw a ball.

"May" implies a need for permission. Example: May I throw a ball?

In informal speech and writing, "can" is now acceptable in the sense of "may." Example: Can I leave now?

At the formal level the distinction between "can" and "may" is still observed.

Fewer vs. Less

If you've been to the grocery store lately, you've probably noticed a sign at checkout that says "15 items or less." You'll learn in this lesson that the sign should say "15 items or fewer."

The reason is straightforward—when talking about a quantity you can count with numbers, use fewer, but for an amount you can't count, use less. Below are some examples:

There are fewer students here today than there were yesterday. Use fewer because you can count the number of students. Maybe there were 30 students in class yesterday and only 25 today.

The teacher assigned less homework today than he did yesterday. Use less because the word homework is not countable. It's not possible to make homework plural—homeworks is not a word. You wouldn't say I have three homeworks tonight ... and that actually leads us into this lesson's hint:

Hint: Usually, if you can add s to the end of the noun to make it plural, use fewer, not less.

Just be mindful of exactly what you're trying to communicate; sometimes you can use either less or fewer, but the word you choose will change the meaning of the sentence:

You gave him less pie than you gave me. Yes, it's true that you can add s to the word pie to make it plural. However, this sentence is talking about the amount of pie, not how many pies, so use less.

Last year's pie-eating contest champion ate fewer pies this year than last. This sentence tells us that there is more than one pie. Maybe last year he ate 10 pies, but this year he could only choke down 8. Because you can count the number of pies, use fewer.

Be careful when discussing time, measurements, or money. These often seem countable, but in reality they refer to an amount, so use less, not fewer.

Our business pulled in less than $100,000 last year. You'll be able to finish the race in less than 10 minutes.

Lose vs. Loose

The word lose, with one o, is a verb that means you have lost something that belongs to you. It can also mean to reduce or lessen.

My little sister always loses her toys. Vitamins lose their potency when they are left out on the table.

Spelling Hint 1: When you say the word lose aloud, you pronounce the s like a z.

Spelling Hint 2: Think about the words lose and lost. Both words have the same meaning (when you lose something, it's lost), and both are spelled with only one o.

The word loose, with two o's, means that something is not tight, or that it's coming apart.

He loosened the reins on his horse. My shoelaces always come loose during gym class.

Spelling Hint 1: Unlike lose, the word loose is pronounced the way it looks, with the s making a regular s sound.

Spelling Hint 2: Remember the phrase loose as a goose. Both loose and goose are spelled with two o's.

More Helpful Hints: Lose vs. Loose

Note that these two words can fulfill different grammatical roles.

The verb lose can be turned into a noun by adding a different ending.

The word loose can be used as a verb, an adjective, or even an adverb, depending on the ending you choose.

The words lose and loose are used in many idiomatic expressions (that's a fancy term for slang). This basically means that their conventional definitions can be stretched a bit.

Accept vs. Except

"Accept" means to receive. Example: I accept your invitation.

"Except" means to omit or to exempt. Example: Everyone except Bill will attend.

Affect vs. Effect

"Affect" may be a verb or a noun, but for the purposes of this lesson, treat each instance of "affect" as a verb meaning "to influence or to change." Examples: 1) Illness affects his patience. 2) She attempted to affect a caring attitude.

"Effect" may be a verb or a noun. As a verb it means to bring about. Example: We will effect the changes we want.

As a noun it means result of a cause. Example: What effect will this bring?

Advice vs. Advise

"Advice" is a noun meaning a suggestion or recommendation. Example: What is your advice?

"Advise" is a verb meaning to recommend. Example: I have been advised to attend.

Between vs. Among, Amongst

"Between" shows connection with two persons or things and may refer to space or time. Example: There was an alley between the buildings.

"Among" and "amongst" show connection with more than two persons or things. Sometimes people use "between" when they want to show a connection with more than two things, but this is not correct. Example: They stood among the trees.

Bad vs. Badly

"Bad" is an adjective meaning sick, in pain, unpleasant, or immoral. It is always used with nouns and linking verbs, and it can never be used with action verbs. Example: I feel bad.

"Badly" is an adverb that is used with all other verbs. You use it when you want to say that someone is not good at something or that someone did a bad job. It should not be used as an adjective and is never used with linking verbs. Example: He drives badly.

Breath vs. Breathe

"Breath" is the noun pronounced to rhyme with death. Example: I lost my breath.

"Breathe" is the verb pronounced as to rhyme with sheathe. Example: Breathe deeply.

Bring, Take, Fetch, and Carry

"Bring" implies moving or conveying something from a distant place or person to a nearer place or person. Example: Bring me a drink.

"Take" implies motion away from speaker to a person or place. Example: Please take me to your leader.

Some easy ways to remember the differences between "bring" and "take" are: You bring something here, and you take something there. You bring something toward a person, and you take something away from a person.

"Carry" implies the conveying of something from one place to another. Example: Please carry this to the car.

"Fetch" implies a two-way trip that is to go for something and bring it back. Example: Rover, fetch the ball.

Capital vs. Capitol

"Capital" as a noun can mean either the seat of government or wealth and resources.

As an adjective it means first or excellent.

Sometimes it is used to mean punishable by death (a capital offense). Example: Cheyenne is the capital of Wyoming.

"Capitol" is a noun meaning the building in which a state legislature convenes; a statehouse. Example: The Wyoming capitol building is in Cheyenne. Also is referring to the official building of the U.S. Congress in Washington D.C., the word is capitalized as part of the proper noun: Capitol Building.

Complement vs. Compliment

"Complement" means that which completes. It can also be a complete number or set of people or things. Example: Those shoes complement that outfit.

"Compliment" means an expression of admiration or approval given freely as a courtesy. Example: Her compliment on the outfit was appreciated.

Sometimes the adjective "complimentary" also means free. Example: The hotel provided a complimentary breakfast.

Emigrate vs. Immigrate

To "emigrate" is to leave one's country for residence in another. Example: I emigrated from my home country.

To "immigrate" is to come into a country of which one is not a native. Example: The person arrived in the new country as an immigrant.

Farther vs. Further

"Farther" usually implies the idea of physical distance. Example: San Francisco is farther away than San Diego.

"Further" usually implies the idea of greater abstract degrees. In other words, it is used to talk about concepts such as time and progress, among others. Example: His dreams were further in the future.

Council vs. Counsel

A "Council" is an assembly or group that meets for deliberation. It can only be used as a noun. Example: A council of teachers considered his case.

"Counsel" is a noun that means advice or deliberating together. Example: He accepted the counsel of his mother. Note that "counsel" can also be used as a verb, as in "I am counseling my friend," while "council" can only be used as a noun.

Principal vs. Principle

"Principal" as an adjective means main, chief, leading. As a noun, "principal" means a leader, a head, or a sum placed at interest. Examples: 1) The bus was his principal means of transportation. 2) The principal of the school was new.

"Principle" means a rule of action, a moral standard, or a fundamental truth. Example: The principle of the statement was understood by all.

Whether vs. Weather

"Whether" is a conjunction meaning in either case. Example: Tell me whether you are considering our plan.

"Weather" is a noun meaning a prevailing condition or atmosphere: mental or moral climate. Example: Stormy weather is coming.

Allay vs. Alley vs. Ally

"Allay" is a verb meaning to reduce the intensity, lay to rest, or pacify and calm. Example: His mother attempted to allay his fears.

"Alley" is a noun meaning a narrow passageway. Example: There is an alley behind the buildings.

"Ally" is a verb or noun meaning to connect by some relationship usually showing helpfulness or kinship. Example: The United States is a close ally of England.

Allude vs. Elude

"Allude" is a verb meaning to make an indirect or passing reference. Example: The speaker alluded to his fame.

"Elude" is a verb meaning to evade or escape from something. Example: The soldier attempted to elude the enemy.

Allusion vs. Illusion

"Allusion" is the noun derived from the verb "allude," which is to make an indirect or passing reference to something. Example: She made allusions about her wealth.

"Illusion" is the action of deceiving the eye or mind by what is unreal or false. Example: The magician created the illusion of flowing water.

All-round vs. All Around

"All-round" is an adjective meaning versatile or general. Example: He is an all-round mechanic.

"All around" has the meaning of being all over a given area. Example: Fir trees were all around the cabin.

Alternate vs. Alternative

"Alternate" (as a verb) means to follow one another by turns. Example: Please alternate the colored pages.

"Alternate" (as a noun) means a substitute or second for another person. Example: I am the alternate committee member.

"Alternative" means a choice between two things. Example: We have only two alternatives.

Apprehend vs. Comprehend

"Apprehend" means to take into custody or grasp mentally. While "apprehend" sometimes means "understand," it is best to use "comprehend" because it's easier for most people to understand. For the purposes of this exercise, always use "comprehend" for "understand." The noun form, "apprehension," means a foreboding or dread of something. Example: Please apprehend the criminal.

"Comprehend" means to grasp mentally or understand fully. Example: Do you comprehend this material? The adjective "comprehensive" means all-inclusive or having a wide range. Example: Final exams are usually comprehensive because they include questions on all the material covered in a semester.

Born vs. Borne

"Born" is an adjective that means brought forth as by birth. It can also describe someone who has a natural talent for something. Example: She is a born musician. Common patterns use "born" as a past participle verb form, as in: She was born on the Fourth of July.

"Borne" is the past participle of the verb "bear" (bear, bore, borne) meaning to support, to carry, to hold in mind, to suffer. Example: The fluffy seeds were borne by the wind.

Censor vs. Censure

"Censor" as a noun means any official examiner of books, plays, etc., empowered to suppress them if they are found to be politically or morally objectionable. Example: Is there a censor for our library?

"Censor" can also be used as a verb meaning examine or suppress. Example: Many movies have to be censored before they are put on TV.

"Censure" means the expression of disapproval or blame, strong criticism, reprimand. Example: Will we be censured for our article?

Notable vs. Notorious, Notoriety

"Notable" and "noted" are used chiefly of persons or things that are remarkable or distinguished for favorable reasons. Examples: 1) The notable remark will be remembered for a long time. 2) The noted author spoke at a local club.

"Notorious" is now almost always used to mean of ill repute. In other words, if someone is known for doing something bad, he or she is "notorious." Example: The notorious outlaw was hunted by the law.

"Notoriety," likewise, means unfavorable publicity or distinction. Example: She did not want any more notoriety.

Persecute vs. Prosecute

"Persecute" means to subject a person or group to persistent ill treatment. Example: People tend to persecute teenagers for their different styles.

"Prosecute" means to pursue, carry out, or bring a lawsuit against a person or group. Example: The court will prosecute anyone who breaks the law.

Continual, Continuous, and Consecutive

"Continual" means happening again and again at short intervals as "continual reminders." Example: The loud trucks were a continual problem.

"Continuous" means uninterrupted, whether of time or space, as in "continuous misery," "continuous rain," or "continuous range of mountains." Example: The stormy weather was continuous.

"Consecutive" means occurring one after the other, as in "consecutive days of the week." Example: Are we to attend on consecutive days?

Sight vs. Site, Cite

"Sight" used as noun means vision or the act of seeing. Example: Sight is one of our senses.

"Sight" used as a verb means to take aim or to spot something that is difficult or unusual to see, or make an observation. Example: Sight along the barrel of the gun.

"Cite" is a verb meaning to quote as authority, to mention in a report, or to summon to appear in court. Example: Please cite the applicable law.

"Site" is a noun meaning a place where an event has occurred, or a place where something is located, a place set apart for some specific use. Example: It was a large school site.

Stationary vs. Stationery

"Stationary" means fixed in one place. Example: The cabinet in the kitchen was stationary.

"Stationery" means writing supplies. Example: The stationery had a flower motif.

#writeblr #writing prompt #studyblr #langblr #linguistics #dark academia #light academia #literature #poetry #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #writing reference #writing resources #vocabulary

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simp4konig · 1 year

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Self-aware König X Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: ~2800

König slowly comes to the realisation that he was in a game, that he was never real, and that he'll never be with reader.

His sense of self deteriorates as all he wishes for is to escape from the boundaries of his code and be real.

In this instance, ignorance really *was* bliss.

*Slow burn

*König has a mental breakdown at one point lmao

Edit on same day: HOLY SHIT thank u for so many notes!!!!!!!!!!! 🥹🥹💞💞💞💞💞 You guys are so nice 🫣🫣

*Self-aware AU belongs to @puff0o0 !!!🥳🥳 (The girl behind the disguise🥸... Was rthis loser all along!!!!! 😈😈imagine giving permission to 👍THIS 👍idiot to write Ur fic idea lol u made a mistake 💀💀💀ok but idid my best not to ruin their awesome au with this pathetic controbution and jope I honoured it well 😭😭 but fr i had been stalking their profile since the begigning of their self aware! au and ivloved their acc 🥺🥺I love their imagines and how they fulfill the request yet leave enoith for imaginstion !! (which, don't mind if I do🤠all of the König scenarios added tovmy incessant daydreamimg hhhhhhhhh oh no),, and when they followed me I was staring at my phone with the BIGGEST goofy grin on my face 🥹🥹Thank YOU sm!!!!! 🫂MUCH LOVE!!!!!!!!!!💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

*To anyone waiting (I've gotten such lovely messages from people saying they liked my first fic (which made me so happy as it was the first ever fanfiction I published online🥹🥹)), Part TWO of my first fic is on its way !!!,, I didn't want to make u guys all fluffy 🥰🩷💘✨🤗 inside only to tear your hearts 💔🥀🗡️🗡️😭 in two witj this 😿 dw I promise to reward u guys with another fic and cute himbo (and absolute menace while on the battlefield 👹)König <33, with King X König having more wholesome interactions in the near future!!

If you had told König that he wasn't real, he would have looked at you blankly and said nothing, passing off your suggestion as a joke of sorts that he possibly couldn't understand.

Perhaps if he was ever faced with a situation like this he'd question you about it, but nothing more, and drop the subject at hand.

Honestly, the likelihood of him ever thinking over this twice would have been slim, as he would not pay your philosophy much thought shortly afterwards.

In fact, he believed that his life as a Kortac operator was indeed a real one, and he wore his embroided Austrian flag on his shoulder with something next to pride, always praised for his outstanding efforts by his superiors in the same tone of voice. To König, however, it meant nothing, and he'd only nod his head in an attempt at gratitude, turning his back to the commemoration in indifference.

Despite not remembering anything of his childhood, his upbringing — hell, even any of his past prior to becoming a soldier — König didn't ever think over it too deeply. The overwhelming pressure to make sure missions went without a hitch and constant deployments to foreign countries left no time to reminisce, especially not when his work was so demanding, and it only made sense to him that they were the reason for his forgotten memories.

Besides, even if he had time to spare and be inactive, he had to stay focused, as being an operator meant that he couldn't let any nostalgia or softness distract him from his tasks.

On the battlefield, König worked on autopilot, performing finishing kills with efficiency and with machine-like precision. Reacting quickly to enemies ambushing him from behind or an enemy that was laying on the floor behind the corner waiting to shoot him in the head, he'd eliminate the targets with bullets to spare. Really, he was unstoppable, and he was on a killing streak.

Until he was shot in the head one day.

The moment it happened, the shot was like an explosion that almost obliterated his eardrums, outside noise deafened like his head was underwater. All he could hear was the high-pitched ringing, and it held an uncanny resemblance to the beeping of a heart rate monitor machine that he would never lay next to, dying instead on a bed of cold rubble and broken shrapnel.

Somehow conscious enough to look around, his mind was completely empty, eyes attempting to adjust. What he'd assumed would happen in a time like this was his mind flashing with memories like a movie reel in his last moments, his entire life playing out in his final dying seconds.

Yet he remembered nothing. No Mama, no Papa, no childhood or any his life trials, nothing that had changed him and moulded his character, not even his motive for enlisting into the military in the first place.

The part that was most unnerving about all this was his complete apathy to it all.

Did he even care that he was dying? Shouldn't he at least feel regret at having essentially been the one to pull the trigger, cutting his own life short with the lifestyle he had committed himself to? Why wasn't he scared, sad, even bewildered at the very least, shocked that his life would soon end so unceremoniously? Fuck, not even mild disappointment at least at not even had travelled the world, and failing to ever explore any place besides abandoned buildings housing hostages and terrorist bases swarming with foes? Nothing at all?

Unable to process his situation, König just... laid there, unmoving, while his surroundings moved in double speed. Nondescript figures holding rifles wearing camo and balaclavas blurred in his vision, and he couldn't differentiate the enemy from his own.

Slowly losing consciousness, he felt his world darken around him, dulling his senses to the mayhem unfolding in real time. He'd accepted his fate, and could do nothing about it. That was that. And this was it.

It was a shock to his system when a silhouetted hand pulled him up by the arm limp by his side and shouted in his face, "Get up, soldier! This is no place to die!"

König didn't need to be told twice. He nodded his head robotically, his eyes looking ahead of him with a thousand-yard stare, and not even sparing a glance to the anonymous ally that saved him, he picked up the his gun off the floor and loaded another magazine into it with a satisfying click.

In his delirium, he worked on autopilot after that, shooting at anything that shot at him first. Too much in a daze, he was past the point of realising that the gaping bullet wound had suddenly sealed itself, vanishing entirely and leaving no mark that it was ever there.

After that, König didn't realise that he wasn't real when any injuries still didn't affect him. He assumed that his insensitivity to wounds was a result of a high pain tolerance, and his body healing miraculously was his ability to regenerate fast.

Although he would lay on the ground, his arm outstretched while through gritted teeth shouting: "Scheisse! Ich brauche hier Hilfe! I need some help over here!"; truth be told, he'd only do so when he after getting used to seeing so many bodies writhe in pain like so, and something for some reason told him that it was the right thing to do.

Waking up moments after not far from the spot he supposedly died in a daze, all bullet wounds gone, he didn't have time in the moment to think over the specifics of his death. Maybe he was hallucinating, or remembering things incorrectly.

König began to suspect that something was wrong when he'd hear his operators say the same sentence word for word. He rationalised that the constant shooting that never ceased even late into the night and dangerous missions that left him with far too many close calls put pressure on his mind. This mania amongst soldiers in the military was a common phenomenon after all, so it shouldn't have been as much of a surprise for König when he felt waves of déjà vu at hearing statements he could have sworn were related to him before at one point, and going to infiltrate areas that were vaguely familiar.

At some point, he thought something was REALLY wrong when he was storming a military base with... a sniper rifle.

Time stood still as he inspected the weapon in his hands, eyes wide.

That... was impossible. He had never been a sniper. True, he had wanted to be one from the beginning, yet he had adapted to his role as the main means of assault, always on the offensive rather on the defensive. So then... Why?

Adding to that, his appearance would differ. They were subtle changes at first, yet still noticeable: a red helmet instead of his black; an ochre hood instead of his black veil with its signature red streaks; a sniper camoflauge when that disguise had never been in his possession before; and even a gas mask with a hazmat suit when he had been wearing something else altogether on the helicopter heading towards its destination.

Although König hadn't know it yet, his reality was slowly shattering along the cracks, but he stubbornly fought the gnawing feeling that ate him up from the inside. He had to stay focused, he repeated to himself. No time to ponder when a task was at hand.

"All units ready your weapons, and in position immediately." Through his walkie-talkie, a voice began counting down the time left before the mission would begin. "60 seconds."

König checked all of his gear, making sure that everything was in place and he was fully equipped. A rifle, a side-arm, ammo, grenades, a med kit for an emergency and a knife. "40 seconds."

Looking up into the sky and straight into the sun, he didn't need to cover his sight as his eyes weren't affected by it at all. Yet, his eyes squinted in confusion, sensing that he was seeing something that he wasn't meant to see behind the glowing eye. "20 seconds."

He saw more than an eye. An ear, a nose, then a mouth. A face.

He saw you.

You were looking at him through a screen, holding a controller and waiting to start playing your game.

His reality shattered all at once, and he stumbled on his feet, unable to regain his balance, feeling himself go weak in the knees. He tuned out the all-important seconds through the communication device, unable to compose himself as for the first time ever he struggled to breathe.

Suddenly, all of it made sense.

People telling him the same things and never deviating from the topic of the mission, the reawakenings, the pain insensitivity — all of it was because none of it was never real.

People never branched off into other topics of conversation because their sole existence was limited to a few hand-selected voiceliness and idle animations. With each upgrade and level up, König had gotten praise from from him superiors, which explained how emotionless their announcements always sounded and why they were so constant.

The frequent brushes with death weren't a matter of luck, and instead it was just his entity respawning until a certain condition was met, until either Kortac or Specgru came out victorious — otherwise, he could "die" as many times as it took until the time ran out.

He was unfazed by bullets that grazed him and knives that tore though his flesh as he could physically feel no pain, his very existence artificial, his skin composed of pixels with no human matter hidden beneath them.

And, his inability to trace back to before he was transferred to Kortac was all because it was all he was programmed to know. There was no childhood. There was no Mama or Papa. It was just him in this world, and he had been manufactured, his thoughts and behaviours fabricated.

For a moment, he considered you the creator of his word, his God, and felt forsaken. He wanted to curse you, to snap your neck in his hands and watch your head drop lifelessly in his hold.

Yet it became apparent that you weren't the one behind this realm. Seeing the headphones strapped to your head and the controller held in anticipation in your hands, you were simply indulging in a past time, and weren't to blame for his state in any way. It wasn't your fault that you were unknowingly playing as a König trapped in the game.

You let out a groan of frustration, mashing buttons on your controller in an attempt to get König to move.

"What the fuck is going on?!" You hissed, trying in any way you could to start playing. Checking your router and the game's ping, you saw that your connection was secure, and that there was no reason for König to be frozen in place. "Fucking piece of shit console."

König shook his head, still disbelieving and unable to accept his fictional reality, yet hearing the sound of your voice made everything an even tougher pill to swallow. He had to stay in character. For you; it was the least that he could do.

After the initial lag at the beginning of the match, the game went smoothly and you couldn't find any faults. However, you suddenly noticed that your movements over König improved, moving with more fluidity and suddenly taking less damage than what you would normally use to. Headshot after headshot and kills all of the time poured onto on your screen until you'd find yourself being ganged up by bitter players wanting to ruin your streak as revenge.

Still, you topped the leaderboards with a new personal record that night. 97 kills to 0 deaths flashed on your screen, and you jumped up from your gaming chair, ecstatic, almost knocking it over in the process.

König felt butterflies in his stomach seeing you smile and jump around excitedly, and that's when he had found his purpose.

From that moment on, you became his lifeline. You gave the unfeeling König something to live for, a motive to keep fighting that he hadn't been given when being created in the game — for you and your greater good.

Really, you made him feel things: made him feel alive; made him fight with more passion and determination when your happiness was on the line.

He fell... In love.

The feelings and emotions he felt in his chest chest were genuine, and weren't pre-written in a script or manipulated by a third-party. Even the bullets that would pierce through his gear and leave him on the ground withering in agony was worth it, and he'd exchange his invincibility any day to feel what he felt when he saw your face, and the smile that tugged at your lips when you were revived or got a difficult kill.

His love for you was immortal, and it would persist through generations and could last for a lifetime, and König was almost certain that you could feel all of his energy channelling through your TV.

He found himself lovingly staring at you through the screen, admiring you as if you were an ephemeral being, a beautiful angel, even when your hair was greasy, your old tee had armpit stains and your eyes were bloodshot from how long you had been playing. Really, none of that put König off — if anything, all of those made you so distinctly you, so human.

Yet, König was in love with someone that was practically in another dimension and he would never speak to them, never touch them, never share thoughts and pass the time doing everything and nothing with them. None of that, because he wasn't real.

Had his life improved now they he had grown self-awareness? Had his ignorance really been bliss before his revelation? Perhaps if he had been another NPC that only gained manipulated consciousness whenever the player spawned in the map he wouldn't be so stricken with grief and crouched over in agony, the knuckles on his hands turning white from how fervently he was gripping his mask. He'd hyperventilate off-screen, sometimes the torment being too much.

Being so close to you yet being restricted to his three-dimensional world was bittersweet at the least, and internal suffering at most. His insatiable craving to be with you, and you with him only, fuelled his desperation, and he tried to keep you with him for as long as possible through any means necessary.

When you selected an operator that wasn't König, your game glitched heavily and would even crash whenever you made the mistake of even complimenting their design, and God forbid whenever you tried to play as someone other than him, as your console would near explode.

When you'd boot up a different game on your PlayStation, your loading screen would suddenly transport you back to the one of MW2, König greeting you with a voiceline that he reserved and perfected just for you:

"Welcome back, schatz. I have been waiting for you." Because he treasured you, and you were the only person that he could ever have feelings for.

Perhaps a recent update was fucking up your console, or it was just malfunctiong due to age. Either way, playing on an eight year old PS4 meant it could only run for so long and glitches like this were inevitable, yet you persisted in keeping the console running, not in your budget to afford to upgrade.

You'd search frantically on the internet for any information about the new König voicelines and whether there was any resolution for your problem when playing CoD, something telling you that your game was not functioning in the way that it should.

A thought crossed your mind that König had gone rogue, and you tried to laugh it off. Swallowing thickly, that still didn't relieve the deep pit in your stomach. If anything, the mere idea made it worse for you, and you'd get an intense gut feeling that would make you feel dizzy whenever König would make eyes contact with you and stand there, making you question whether he was acting out of character or not.

His attempts to keep you with him were commendable, yet none of it could change the fact that it would never be anything more than one-sided pining, a deep longing for a person whose world kept spinning while his stopped once you logged off the game, his day ending abruptly and being consumed by darkness.

For now, König had to content himself with being stuck behind a screen. He wished so desperately to be able to touch you, to escape this human generated world that trapped him in these bounds, and to find who he really is when with you. Shrouded in this deep black void, all he could do was wait patiently until you'd boot up the game again.

A hand was placed on his side of the screen longingly, resting it gently on the face on the other side.

Note: this wasn't meant to be so sad ,how did an idea of König popping out from the screen turnvto this 😭😭

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darkcircles4lyfe · 6 months

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it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

#lin speaks #bnha meta #bnha manga #bnha 419 #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bkdk #dekubaku #dkbk

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kathaynesart · 4 months

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Bit of a random question, but as a teen I'm curious, what would you want to say to kids of today? Any advice?

Hm... every person's life journey is different, but I don't mind giving a few tips based on my personal experiences! If they can help in anyway then I am glad for it!

Ted Talk below the cut.

Life will always change. YOU will change. You may feel stuck or trapped in some aspect of your life right now and are worried that things will never get better. But they do... it will take time, but you will get there so long as you keep moving forward.

Try not to stress too much. All those things that seem like such a big deal right now... most of them will be forgotten within a few years. So it helps when you feel overwhelmed to step back and not let these little (or even big) missteps take control of your life.

No really, go touch grass. I can not express how important it is to disconnect from social media and just be present in the moment. Going out to a cafe or a park to help you unwind and ground yourself. If life allows, try traveling! Even if it's just a road trip. Get out and see and experience different things because those will be the memories that will stick with you!

Change things up. Even if that's just taking a different path to school or trying a different snack. I find that stepping away from the mundane daily schedule helps bring so much more variety to my life and helps me be more present in the moment.

Be flexible. Especially in your goals and expectations. We're expected at such a young age to choose our destination in life, when it's the journey itself that we should be seeking. So while it's great to have goals, do not make them so rigid that you will deem yourself a failure should they not come to pass. Often times it's the things that surprise us in life that help lead us to opportunities we had never even considered.

Your worth does not come from what you produce, or how many milestones you hit, or how much money you make. It is something you give yourself as you relearn time and time again to love yourself.

Your health is important! It is something we often take for granted when we’re younger but it will mean so much as you age. Also should you feel that you’re ever in pain or unwell, speak up. There are so many instances of people coming to greater harm because they only listened to the first doctor who brushed them off. Seek a second opinion. Know that your body is worth proper care!

Just because you have to grow old does not mean you have to "grow up." Those things you loved that sparked joy in you as a kid? Hold onto them or find new ways to instill them into your life. Keep that passion and remember what fun is! Because you will need it just as much when you're older. It is a major ingredient in the spice of life.

Remember, you ARE special. You may not feel like it... but the fact that you exist is such a mind boggling feat in this vast universe of mostly empty space. While that may be difficult to grasp as we are, stuffed in this tiny jewelry box we call Earth, that does not make any one of us any less special in the grand scheme of things. And in this tiny but overflowing box of treasures, there is no gem that is quite like you. You managed against all odds to come into existence. That is AMAZING. Congratulations! Hard part is already done. Now go shine!

#ted talk #Kat talk?#important note though! Age does not always equal wisdom! I'm still figuring it out as I go too haha #but if it helps even one person then it will be worth it!#q&a #life advice #from a little old girl #sorry anon it took so long for me to respond #life has been busy

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mikodrawnnarratives · 10 months

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*cracks knuckles* @paper-lilypie

WEDDING BELLS YALL

and brainrot. I've been sketching these ideas out for like, a year. And done nothing with them until this point

this has been festering. in my mind.

*note: I didn't get around to drawing it, but I imagine Sun, Moon, and Y/n say their vows at the Bell place thingie that I need to reread in the fic. Y'know, the place Moon climbs up to, to get away from y/n. Yeh they declare their love up there and smoochies*

I should really reread that bit actually lol

Before moving forward, I'm gonna rant about outfits

this is the outfit that I base Sun and Moon's wedding look on because I just think it fits so well. I share this so you guys see the vision and forgive my inexperience with drawing these folds

Cool? cool.

Also, I went through several variations of what Y/n would wear before settling on this bc nothing that came up when I searched "gender neutral wedding gear" really fit

Wanted a mix between gown and suit and y'know this ended up being more suit but I like it a lot so we're going with that. It also came to me in a vision so that has to say something.

(Ok but I did envision Y/n having a dress similar to this one character's dress in Bad Guys but I couldn't draw it so I scrapped it)

(ok some details stayed but most of the concept had to go)

so like- you see it right?

Btw. All of them (including guests) have pockets. just. to ease your mind.

ok back to actually drawn wedding shenanigans

Because, there are many, wedding shenanigans

Y'know the trend of smashing wedding cake into the bride/groom/wedded partner's face right?

There's no way this wouldn't escalate and y/n wouldn't enlist their siblings in the chaos.

They'll get like- one or two good wedding pics before this.

the cake tasted good tho

Let me just say. I am so proud of how I did these hands I'm oogling my own art I did so good GHGHHHHHHFDS

I like??? Want to do more?????

cuties shenanigans below they are obnoxious and they know it

By the way by the way you may notice the flower dress

I WILL be getting around to Lily x DCA STUFF I WILL

Tho I got busy and had a really hard time drawing/finishing sketches when I did have time so. I chose to post what I have so far so it's out before November ends

CONSIDER THIS A PART 1

LILY YOU ARE NOT SAFE

well Ig u are safe

for nowwwww

Bouquet toss real

fun fact I initially wanted to draw Sun, Moon, and Copper y/n tossing the bouquet together

but their arm lengths would NOT make that work kjfdkljsdklj

so y/n tosses the bouquet bc they are the specialest

(Or they won the round of monopoly)

(who's to say)

(we don't talk about game night)

But all three of them are the criminal. masterminds. They planned this from the start. Holly and Chica HAD NO CHANCE after the role they played in getting Y/N AND SUN AND MOON together.

I think this video would also be something cute that I could see happening for their wedding lol

Y/n and the daycare attendants hand the bouquet to Holly and then she gets proposed to by Chica

Anyway I still have a whole list of wedding shenanigans I need to draw

Sarah and Yao being some because when I tried before I couldn't sketch them out to my liking.

And the more CCRT gets expanded on, the more I'm sure will be present in their wedding since there are only 3 chapters out so far and enough art for me to make my guesses dlkkldsf

I'm sure there are plenty of fun things that can be included into this wedding, or edited, once more is revealed of the characters and their relationships

and who would be wedding guests is a little more up in the air, for instance and... who'd be able to show up in the first place considering unknown state of... living

(*cough cough*-Glamrock Foxy-*cough cough*)

...and being on good terms! thats.. important too. y'know moon and foxy weren't really exes but it may still be a bit awkward if he got invited y'know yknow

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roses-for-readers · 1 year

Text

Aggressive Caregiver ~ Tsu'tey x Reader

Warnings: Jake being an idiot at times, mentions of broken bones, Tsu'tey being a softie, pretty much just fluff and stuff

Synopsis: After an incident where you get hurt, Tsu'tey agrees to take care of you while you recover.

Masterlist

"Jake, I don't think this is a good idea." In retrospect, it was a fucking stupid idea. But I couldn't just flat out say that to my brother in front of Neytiri, who he was trying to impress. I wasn't trying to get in the way of what he was trying to do, but I also didn't want to have to explain to the healers why he would be returning to the clan with multiple broken bones.

Jake had somehow gotten it in his head that he could mount his ikran in midair if he called for it before jumping. He told me about the idea just moments before Neytiri had come over to us to hear what he was talking about. Jake had just pulled us along in order to prove what I knew was going to be a complete disaster without even telling Neytiri a word of the plan. I wasn't even given a chance to attempt to talk him out of it before he was already climbing.

Jake was about halfway up the tree when he finally walked out onto one of its branches. He looked down towards the both of us before he finally said, "Come on. Everything will be fine as long as it works out. Besides, what is the worst that could happen (Y/n)?"

"I would like to remind you that nothing good ever follows that statement whenever you say it. Now please just come back down here before its too late." When that statement left my mouth, Neytiri's ears had perked up slightly. While she may not know what he had planned, she certainly didn't want anything bad to Jake. Especially after all the time and effort it took to train him.

As she was about to say something, a voice sounded close behind us, "What is the skxawng doing this time?" We both turned to find Tsu'tey walking over to us while he had his eyes on Jake, who was about 100 feet in the air. There was an unamused look on his face as he stopped not too far from where me and Neytiri were standing.

Jake looked down and smiled at the new arrival. "Tsu'tey, you are just in time! I was just about to show the ladies here something I thought of. I'm glad that you will get to witness this as well."

"Jake Sully, don't you dare move off of that branch unless you want to get yourself killed!" I immediately yelled at him. I was throughly unimpressed with the fact that not only was Neytiri having to bear witness to this idiotic display, but Tsu'tey also had gotten roped into it as well. I huffed while glaring up at my brother, wondering how I would finally convince him to come down without much of a fight.

Tsu'tey looked over to me before he spoke once again. "You did not come to training so you could convince your brother to not get himself killed? That is your excuse for why you didn't show today? I was pulled away from my duties to teach you our ways and this is how my time is repaid?"

Looking over toward the man, I glared over at him like how I did with Jake. Using a slightly rude tone, I retaliated with, "You make it seem like I enjoy having to be one that makes sure that he stays alive. Do you know exactly how many ideas I had to talk him out of in order for him to survive this far in life? Way too fucking many. And this might actually be one of the worse ideas that has come to Jake's mind." Looking back up towards Jake, I yelled out, "Now get down from there this instance!"

Jake leaned over the branch slightly, smirking down at us. Holding his hands up in surrender, he hollered down, "Alright, you win little sister. I'll come down, but on one condition. You have to come up here and lead me back down yourself. Otherwise, this is still happening. You have 20 seconds to make up your mind. Time starts now."

I rolled my eyes at his childish behavior. Of course he would still have me be involved even though he was backing down. I dug my foot into the dirt while glaring at the ground.

"15 seconds left! What's it going to be (Y/n)?"

Neytiri placed her hand on my shoulder. I looked at her, seeing the concerned expression that was on her face. Neytiri looked directly into my eyes while she quietly said, "Maybe you should just go up and get him. Keep him from hurting himself."

"Ten! Nine! Eig-"

"Alright! I'm coming! Just stop counting." I reluctantly made my way over to the tree before starting to climb upwards. I continued climbing, mumbling under my breath the whole time. Soon, I had made it to the branch that Jake was currently standing in the middle of. I remained close to the trunk as I glared over at Jake. "Alright, I climbed up to get you. Now get your ass on the ground."

Jake smiled while walking a little further down the branch. Shrugging his shoulders, Jake looked downwards while saying, "I said you had to lead me down. Means you have to come out here and get me."

I remained in my position, refusing to move an inch. I could tell that the branch was slightly unstable, moving gently with each move that Jake made. I looked Jake in the eyes as I said, "I am not getting on this branch. Now come down before one of us get hurt."

Jake smiled towards the sky as he continued to speak, "You know, maybe if I called my ikran now, then-"

Before he could finish the sentence, I was already at his side. He had managed to walk out over halfway towards the end of branch. I carefully pushed Jake in front of me in order to lead him so we could return to the ground.

Jake laughed as I continued to push him. He looked over his shoulder with a smile, "See? Nothing bad happe-"

As soon as those words left his mouth, the branch gave way. We fell towards the ground, leaves and vines occasionally slowing the fall. When we finally hit the ground, I landed first directly on my back with my arms spread out from the impact. Jake came down soon after, landing directly beside me. Which also means he landed on my arm, causing me to scream out at the same time that I heard a sickening crack follow soon after his drop.

Neytiri and Tsu'tey were quick to come over to us once we hit the ground. I could only cry as they helped pick Jake off of me, the pain in my arm almost becoming unbearable. I knew it was definitely broken, but I had no idea how bad it was. All that I could seem to do was curl up onto my side while trying to keep my arm as still as possible.

Jake was by my side soon after he had regained awareness of his surroundings. His hands came up to my face, wiping away as many tears as he could while I cried. Neytiri was behind me, rubbing my back while trying to calm me down. Her efforts soon became fruitless as she rubbed over a certain area which then caused me to let out a small scream from the sensation. Clearly, I hurt a portion of my back as well without my knowledge.

Neytiri quickly removed her hand while looking over at the two men that were gathered around my sobbing figure. With a gentle voice, she said, "We must take her back to my mother. She will know how to properly help (Y/n)."

"Alright. Come on sis, I got you." As Jake had reached out for me, I started smacking him with my one good arm.

I glared at him through my tears as I yelled, "Don't touch me, you ass! I should have just let you break your neck trying to do your stupid trick!"

Jake just pulled away, trying not to get hit anymore while I was laying on the ground. Neytiri stepped over to Jake before looking over at Tsu'tey. "Tsu'tey, you take (Y/n) back while I help Jake."

"Neytiri, I don't need any help."

"Ma'Jake, your ankle is swelling. You won't be able to walk by yourself." After Neytiri had said that, I looked towards Jake's feet to realize that his right ankle was slightly bigger with a somewhat dark shade of purple covering it. I slightly grimaced at the sight, but knew it was probably only just a slight sprain that he had.

Before much else could be said, Tsu'tey had picked me up as gently as he could. He moved my good arm around his neck so he could pick me up. He used one arm to hold me up beneath my legs while he used the other to wrap around the middle of my back. As I wrapped my legs around him, I moved my head to rest against his shoulder as I tried to take some deep breaths in order to calm myself down. After he made sure that my broken arm settled in between our torsos, Tsu'tey started to head back in the direction of the village.

Everything was quite for a few minutes before Tsu'tey finally spoke up. "You should not have walked onto the branch."

Even though I wasn't looking at his face, I could practically feel the look of disapproval from his tone alone. My ears dropped slightly as I let out a small, "I know."

I could feel the huff that left him as I spoke. I knew he was upset from the fact that both Jake and I got hurt. Him and Jake had become friends soon after the war had ended. Though, we had a bit of a weird relationship. We were friends, but it almost felt like a bit more than a standard friendship. We always seemed to spend a bit more time with each other, normally by hunting together or going on a flight with our ikrans. Sometimes he would even joke around with me when it was just the two of us. Though sometimes I did wish it would be something more than just friends, I was ok with the relationship that I had with Tsu'tey. As long as he was apart of my life, I would be happy either way.

I let out a shaky breath as I mumbled, "It really hurts, Tsu'tey."

He carefully rubbed my side as he quietly said, "I know. We are almost to the village. Mo'at will look over you and then you will be fine. Just a few more minutes."

It was silent for a bit before I decided to speak up. "Tsu'tey, could you put me down? I think I can walk the rest of the way."

"Absolutely not." He immediately shot down my request. In fact, he tightened his hold on me slightly in order to emphasize his point.

I let out a small whine before saying, "Tsu'tey, people will see. The clan already talks enough, I don't want to give anyone another reason to start assuming anything."

I could feel the scoff that leaves him as soon as the statement left my mouth. "It does not matter what they say. You need me right now, so I will be here." I could tell from his tone that I had absolutely no room to argue with him.

Once we entered the village, I avoided the gaze of anyone that we passed. I could hear people whispering to one another as Tsu'tey continued to make his way towards the healing huts. It didn't take long for us to finally get there as Tsu'tey had pushed past almost anyone in the way of our destination.

Once Tsu'tey had walked through the door, Mo'at had turned towards us. She stood while motioning for me to be sat on of the beds that was in the center. Carefully, Tsu'tey had placed me down while helping me sit up as Mo'at started to grab supplies from one of the shelves.

"What happened to her?" While her tone was slightly harsh, when I looked at her, Mo'at's gaze was soft as she started to inspect over my body carefully.

Tsu'tey spoke softly as he started to explain everything that had happened. He pointed out the part of my back that had cause me so much discomfort earlier. Mo'at gently ran her fingers over the spot causing me to flinch away with a soft whine. Mo'at made a noise of disapproval as she started to apply some ointment to the area. With some help from Tsu'tey, she wrapped some bandages around my torso before she moved to inspect my arm. I whined as she moved my arm to get a better understanding of the extent of my injury. I took a few deep breaths as Mo'at started to apply more ointment on my arm before she put more wrapping on my arm. Once she was done, she brought a small bowl with a strange liquid in it towards me. I was about to take it with my uninjured hand when Tsu'tey grabbed the bowl from Mo'at. He brought it towards my lips and helped me drink from it. I grimaced at the taste before coughing slightly from the sting of the medicine going down my throat.

After my coughing fit was done, Jake and Neytiri had made their way into the tent. Jake looked down at me, taking notice of the bandages covering part of my body. Neytiri helped sit him down before getting more supplies in order to help Jake.

He looked over to Mo'at as he asked, "How bad is it? Is she going to be alright?"

Mo'at had finished looking me over for any more injuries that I may have gotten. Once she was done, she moved over to Jake to start checking on him. "She will not be able to move her arm without pain for a while. She will also need to rest in order for her back to properly heal. Meaning that you will need to stay with someone while you are healing (Y/n)."

"She can stay with us. It's the least that I can do after all." I glared at Jake as soon as he opened his mouth. He shrunk back slightly from the intensity of my gaze, an apologetic look crossing his face.

Neytiri went over to Jake's side as she started to treat some of the scratches that littered his body. As she applied the paste she had onto his body, she softly said, "Ma'Jake, you won't be able to walk on your own for a few days. I will have my hands full with you as is."

"Besides, if I stay with you right now, I will kill you while you sleep." I continued to glare at him while I spoke. Jake let out a shaky laugh which turned into a whine when Mo'at grabbed at his ankle.

Tsu'tey spoke up from beside me as he watched the interaction. "I will look after her while she recovers." He placed his hand on my shoulder in an act of comfort. My face started to heat up, though I chose to believe it was the medicine finally taking effect. He looked over at me as he continued, "Only if you are comfortable with it. You do not have to if you wish to stay with someone else."

I looked back towards Tsu'tey, who was staring at me with a soft expression on his face. I gave him a soft smile before I made up my mind. "I would really appreciate it, Tsu'tey. Thank you."

He smiled at my words as he moved so his back was facing me. My blush started to deepen as I began to realize that he wanted me to climb on so he could carry me. I hesitated at first, but finally accepted after acknowledged that he wouldn't let me leave the healing tent any other way.

Once Tsu'tey had his arms secured underneath my legs, he stood up and started to leave. I placed my head on his shoulder as I let out a small sigh. I could feel the people staring once we walked out of the tent. They all must be curious as to why the clan's best warrior was carrying me in a way that would appear so intimate for him. Tsu'tey seemed unfazed by the stares as he continued the walk to his hut.

When we finally go to the tree where Tsu'tey's hut was in, I heard him quietly say, "Hold on tight." Once I secured my hold on him, Tsu'tey immediately began climbing up the tree. He moved so quickly up the tree, it seemed as if I didn't weigh anything to him. It didn't take long for us to get to his hut. When we entered, he started heading straight to his hammock. Tsu'tey helped me get into it with minimal incident.

I tried sitting up so I wasn't laying down just yet, but he pushed me down gently by my shoulders. I tried pushing against his efforts, but he stayed firm on his decision for me to rest to what he deemed the best way. To show how serious he was, Tsu'tey gave a small hiss before I finally gave up on fighting him. Once he was certain I wasn't going to get back up, Tsu'tey moved his hand away slowly. He started walking to what seemed to resemble a kitchen. At least that's what it seemed like from where I laying down. He was moving around swiftly, grabbing things as he went. I watched him for a little bit before I turned my attention to things that were closer to me.

It was the first time that I had been over to his home, but it didn't quite seem like it was completely him. There were more plants around than I would expect him to be interested in having. Small groups of flowers had wrapped themselves around some of the branches that were overhead. I smiled at the homely feeling that was emitting from the little details that were littered all over. I turned to my side to look around a little better when I took notice of something that was close by. I strained my eyes to see what exactly was on the ground. Once I figured out what it was Tsu'tey had finally made his way back to me. He used one hand to roll me onto my back once again, then shoved a bowl of fruit into my hand with the other. He started mumbling something about me 'not listening' while he was gone. I just smiled looking up at him.

"Hey Tsu'tey, did you make a necklace over there? It looks really nice." His face paled as he went over to where the piece of jewelry was placed. Tsu'tey picked it up before hastily putting it away where I wouldn't be able to see it. I let out a small laugh from the change in his behavior. "Come on Tsu'tey. I wanna see what it looks like."

He turned back towards me with a slightly conflicted look on his face. "You should not have seen it. It is not how things are supposed to work when it comes to the matter."

"What do you mean? It's just a..." It took a minute for me to fully understand what he meant by that statement. A look of understanding crossed my face when I barely whispered, "It's a courting gift." He looked at the ground, his ears pinned against his head in what seemed like shame. I sent him a gentle smile before saying "Tsu'tey, I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were interested in anyone like that. Why didn't you say anything?"

Tsu'tey looked back at me as he slowly made his way back to the hammock. He refused to make eye contact as he tired to find the right words to explain. "It is complicated, (Y/n). It does not feel right talking of this with anyone when it comes to the matter."

I could tell that he felt awkward about the current topic. I brought the bowl he had given me towards him as a form of comfort. He hesitantly took a piece, fiddling with it instead of eating it. I looked back up at the flowers that decorated the branches above us. Sighing mostly to myself, I decided I was going to try and lighten the mood.

"Can I give you some advice about this whole thing?" He gave a small huff, but didn't stop me from continuing what I was about to tell him. "I think I have an idea who it could possibly be that you might be courting. And I have to say just this." I looked back towards him to notice that Tsu'tey's body was completely tense. I tried hold back my smile as I continued, "I know Jake is a great guy, but you could do so much better than my brother. I mean, Jake is an idiot and he alw-"

Tsu'tey tossed the fruit he had in his hand at my face. He let out a short hiss, but he had a playful smile on his face. I gasped before grabbing a piece of fruit and tossed it at him in retaliation. Tsu'tey was able to dodge it, but he pretended to be as if he had actually be struck. I began laughing at the face he made, causing him to join in soon after.

The next few minutes were just of us laughing at practically nothing. When we finally calmed down, I looked back at him with a serious expression. "In all honesty though, any woman that you choose to have as your mate will be lucky to have you. You deserve to be happy Tsu'tey. Everyone will stand by you with whatever decision that you make."

He smiled at my words of encouragement, clearly feeling slightly better after hearing them. He looked around his home as he began to talk again. "I am grateful that you feel that way. I have been trying to make this place feel more welcoming for her. Though, the plan I had for the courting process doesn't seem to be going the way I had hoped."

Confusion crossed my face as I decided to inquire, "Really? What went wrong? Is she making you work to get her attention?"

"Actually, she fell out of a tree and ruined the plan of having her to meet me later tonight."

I was left speechless from his sudden confession. Sure, I knew Tsu'tey saw me as a good friend, but I didn't think that he thought of me the same way I did him. Though, I must have been silent for to long, because he started to stand with his ears pinned back.

"I'm sorry, (Y/n). I thought you felt the same way. I will leave you be for now."

Before he was able to walk away, I grabbed ahold of his wrist. He looked down in shock, not expecting me to touch him. I gave him a loving smile as I whispered, "I wanna see it." He looked confused, clearly not understanding what I meant. I moved my hand down to hold his as I spoke again. "I wanna see my necklace if I'm going to say yes to your proposal."

His ears perked up as soon as I finished talking. I slowly let go of his hand when he moved to retrieve the necklace from its recent hiding spot. Tsu'tey had the biggest grin on his face as he walked back towards me. He held it out for me to see the details, clearly proud of his work. I was awestruck by the detail of it. He had used blue and green beads decorated almost the entirety of the necklace. In the center was the dulled down tip of an arrow. I smiled when I realized that it was from one of the arrows that Tsu'tey had replaced not to long ago.

I sat up slightly as I ran my fingers across it softly. I looked back up at Tsu'tey before asking, "Can you help me put it on?"

Tsu'tey leaned over to secure the necklace on me. Once he made sure it wouldn't fall off, he placed my chin between his fingers to tilt my head. He let out a hum of approval as he admired how it hugged my neck. He had a prideful smile on his face as he barely whispered, "Look at you. So beautiful."

A blush started to form across my face as I looked away in embarrassment. Tsu'tey caressed my cheek before he leaned down to place a kiss on my cheek. I giggled as he continued to leave kisses all over my face. He continued for a few moments before leaning in and placed a kiss softly on my lips. I leaned in to deepen the kiss slightly.

I reluctantly pulled away, taking a deep breath. I rested my forehead against his, closing my eyes at the domestic moment we were having. We lasted like that for a few minutes, just basking in each other's presence. I sighed before letting out a mumbled, "Can we cuddle, please?"

Tsu'tey chuckled at my request, but helped me move around so he could lay down with me. When he finally got situated, I snuggled into his side. He was careful as he pulled me to be laying down on top of him, his tail wrapping itself around my thigh in the process. I nuzzled into his neck as I began to let out quiet purrs. Tsu'tey began to draw small patterns on the uninjured part of my back as he continued to chuckle to himself.

We stayed like that for a while until he finally broke the silence. "There is one thing that I have been wondering." I gave a soft hum as I waited for him to continue. "Why was your brother in that tree to begin with?"

I held back a giggle as I said, "It's kind of a long story. I don't know if you even want to hear it."

I felt his laugh vibrate throughout his chest at my answer. "(Y/n), you aren't going to be able to move around that much for the next few days. I'm willing to listen to anything you have to tell me. So tell me what Jake was trying to accomplish from halfway up that tree."

#tsu'tey #tsu'tey x reader #avatar #tsutey #tsutey x reader #avatar x reader #avatar oneshot #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #avatar james cameron

994 notes · View notes

everparanoid · 10 months

Text

Wholesome Delinquent Behaviour┃Wriothesley

pairing: f!reader x wriothesley

genre: fluff , smut, light Angst

rating: 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

tags: consent is hot, it's all good till the backstory, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Reader is Not Traveler, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Squirting, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, biting kink, inappropriate use of cuffs, spoilers for wriothesley story quest, No use of y/n, Past Murder, Minor Original Character(s), Facials, PWP, Blowjobs, handjobs, everything between reader and wriothesley is consensual

wordcount: 9.5K

synopsis: The first time you met Wriothesley was completely by accident. Not that you remembered it too well; if you did, he wouldn’t confirm it without putting you through a gruelling test. No, the first time you remembered meeting Wriothesley was much later.

You are a prisoner at Meropide who meets and falls in love with Wriothesley over the years of knowing him, and he falls harder.

Originally posted: 30.10.23 on AO3

a/n: I am now reposting my AO3 stuff onto tumblr. If you know me....no, you don't. ;) Also check out my AO3 for more wriothesley fics.

Song Inspiration: ''Safeword'' by TV Girl.

I don't own any of the artwork used.

If everything could come to a stop, just for something she says,

The first time you met Wriothesley was completely by accident. Not that you remembered it too well, and if you did, he wouldn’t confirm it without putting you through a gruelling test. No, the first time you remembered meeting Wriothesley was much later.

You wiped away the sweat coating your brow with the back of your dirtied hand, heaving a deep sigh. The production zone, despite being at the bottom of the ocean, was like what you imagined the hot springs of Inazuma to feel like. You wanted to go there one day—to Inazuma. Although the borders were closed to the outside, the stories you heard of the beautiful Sakura blossoms filled you with the determination to get there. One day, you would. You were sure of it. If you didn’t get struck down by their archon first.

“Inmate, stop slacking! Unless you don’t want to eat tonight,” the guard manning the floor yelled at you.

You rolled your eyes and continued hammering at the heated chunks of metal. Your arms were weak, and your palms were sweaty. It was times like this when you wished you had a cryo vision. You wished for many things. You wished you hadn’t been caught. You wished Fontaine were a better place. You wished that Monsieur Neuvillette felt even an ounce of sympathy for your case, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the court of Fontaine was as ‘fair’ as they came. The sky had down poured the night you were sent to Meropide. It was the worst Fontaine had seen in four hundred years. You hadn’t seen the sky properly since you probably never would. People rotted down here. So, all you could rely on was the glistening memory of bitter water, and your dreams.

It was better, you decided, to be punished here than in Sumeru, Inazuma, or even Monstadt. You’d been to Liyue once, but you weren’t there long enough to have a clear judgement of whether their form of justice would be any better. Then again you had been arrested before you got out of Liyue and they handed you straight back to Fontaine to be judged by your home region’s laws.

“Inmate!” The guard yelled snapping you from your thoughts. “You’re wanted at the administration area.”

You dropped your hammer, relieved for the break, and shoved past the guard on your way to the lift.

I thought the whole point was you were living on the edge,

“It’s your lucky day, kid,” another guard said as you meandered leisurely toward them.

This guard you liked.

Meropide inductions didn’t happen often. Most of the time the convict was thrown into their dorm and made to figure it out themselves. In the instances of special cases, you were brought out like a friendly face before the storm. You had no clue why it was you they chose, but you always got paid handsomely in credit coupons, so the particulars didn’t matter to you. You had long since abandoned the idea of fairness down here where the sun doesn’t shine.

“What have we got this time?” you asked cracking your knuckles.

“A kid, your age.”

You paused. It wasn’t often you met people around your age down here. Everyone was either one foot in the grave or an adult.

What could this kid have done to end up down here with the downs and outs? You looked out the large glass window, it stared out into the deep blue Fontainian waters. The sea was dark, so you guessed it must be night. Time was more of an idea, a concept if you will, down in the depths. So, you enjoyed rare moments like these to re-calibrate yourself. It was a shame. You had hoped to at least feel the sun’s rays through the water’s refraction, but it was like you said beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The lift lowered down behind you, and you turned to greet this so-called new inmate. You were greeted by a tall scrawny boy, probably not even a year older than yourself with dull icy eyes and jet-black hair. He was drenched in that same bitter water.

You put on your brightest smile and offered your hand.

“Welcome to hell,” you said.

Not your best work but it caused a small snicker from the boy, and your favourite guard who stayed close by. Strange. They never stayed around. Were they that concerned about your ability to induct a fellow teenage delinquent?

Wriothesley paused. When he was given his verdict by the Monsieur Neuvillette he didn’t expect such a warm welcome. Well, warm as far as being greeted at its entrance.

He didn’t take your hand, instead opting to stare at you with those haunted eyes. You were disheveled at beast and downright filthy at worst. Nothing to sing or dance about. Nothing to fall head over heels in love with either, but you didn’t care. Who wanted to find happiness in misery anyway?

“Hell?” Wriothesley echoed. His voice was steady and stern like he was aged beyond his years; by the lack of life in his eyes, he probably was. “Is it that bad down here?”

You shrugged one shoulder.

“Depends,” you said.

“On what?” he asked, calculating. You could feel his brain working from where you stood.

Fascinating.

“Depends on how stupid you are,” you looked him up and down, chewing the inside of your cheek absentmindedly. Then, as if a rocket had been shot up your butt, you spun on your heels and gestured for him to follow with a lazy flick of your wrist.

He did so, catching up to you easily with his long legs and just as long stride.

“I didn’t catch your name,” you said as the lift doors closed behind you taking you down to the actual entrance of Meropide not the fancy entrance for visitors too afraid to see the truth. Fontaine was a giant opera, and you lot in Meropide were the hidden stage crew, slaving behind the scenes after losing your spot in the limelight.

“You didn’t ask,” he responded flatly from beside you.

“Clearly that was the hint for you to tell me.”

“It’s Wriothesley,” he said.

It didn’t sound like it was his actual name. Hell, it didn’t sound like a name at all, but who were you to judge? Meropide was a place to start a new; to redeem yourself from your sins, and nearly burn to death in the production zones breaking your back for an administrator who was a tyrant. What was a kid reclaiming their identity going to do to you?

“Nice to meet you, Ricecake.”

“Ricecake?”

“Hey, you give me a name I can’t pronounce you live with the consequences, Ricecake.”

The doors opened and the lift groaned as steam poured out of its pipes and vents. Some unfortunate soul was going to have to clean those later, and you prayed it wasn’t going to be you. You had a burn on the inside of your arm from the last time you cleaned those steaming pipes, it was a jagged ugly thing to look at, so you kept it hidden. Out of sight out of mind, right?

The receptionist sat behind the desk looking as melancholy as everyone else in this place. Wriothesley was going to fit in just fine, you thought, as you remembered that same almost dead look in his eyes.

“You coming?” you asked the boy who stood gawking at you from the lift. “It won’t take you back up you know. I mean you can try. It’s your sentence you’re lengthening.”

“You don’t recognise me?”

“No?” you said. “Should I?”

You tried to recall when you would have seen him before but only drew blanks. You’d seen so many of the same faces and watched so many of them die that telling anyone apart was a pipe dream for you. However, for some reason, you knew that Wriothesley would stick in your head. Not just because the name was so peculiar but because something about him intrigued you. He didn’t seem upset down here yet. No, he looked curious. Curiosity was dangerous. Curiosity got the smartest people in here killed or beaten half to death. No, Wriothesley stuck in your head because he reminded you of hope.

So, when those sounds start to drift down the hall, and stat to freak out the neighbours,

“No coupons, no meal,” the chef said, his voice booming through the place. You wondered over questioning who would be stupid enough to get into conflict with the head chef. He was a burly man, tall with a glassy eye and a wooden spatula the size of a person. The rumour was that he had been a Fatui skirmisher in the overworld. The truth was he was like every other soul in here, beaten and trapped. Upon seeing the familiar woolfy black hair, spiked in random places you inserted yourself into the conversation.

“Sorry about that boss. He’s new,” you said to the chef.

He waved his beefy, greasy hand at you to leave.

“Don’t let your friend come back unless he has coupons. This isn’t charity,” he said with a thick Snezhnayan accent.

“Gotcha,” you said and gave the chef a salute. Hooking your arm under Wriothesleys, you pulled him out of the cue. He nearly tripped over his foot. You dragged him to a secluded table a little away from everyone else, where your singular special box of bread and curry waited for you.

You let him go.

You pointed to the wall where it read, ‘If a man will not work, he shall not eat.’

“Sit,” you commanded pointing to the chair opposite yours.

Wriothesley stared at you like you had grown four heads.

“I have no food,” he said.

“I can see that,” you responded, opening your box and letting the steam waft out. Both of your stomachs groaned at the same time. It had been a while since you had had decent food from the chef, it would be even longer till you had another one; credit coupons weren’t easy to come by and they were better spent on other things like making sure you didn’t get smothered in your sleep.

“How much did that cost?”

“More than you’ll make in your first year,” you said breaking up the bread in your hands.

He gulped dryly.

“How do you know that?”

“You’re a fresher. You’re basically free labour until you have some experience behind you, and some meat on your bones. You’ll be lucky if they pay you a tenth of what you should be getting in your first year. Unless you can fight.”

You let your words settle in the silence between you.

“What did you do?” you ask.

“What?”

“Your crime? What did you do? The guards treat you like a danger to humanity,” you said glancing at the guard who watched you both intently. You could understand them glaring at you but why him?

Wriothesley shifted in his seat, straightening up as if preparing for something.

“I killed my parents,” he said.

He didn’t say anything more than that, he didn’t need to.

You blinked.

“Both of them?”

“Yes.”

You let it sink in for a minute and then nodded.

“I will not be offended if you run, after all this is the entire truth,” he said bluntly. His stomach growled again, and he clutched it willing it to silence itself.

“We’re all crooks and criminals down here,” you said. “But that doesn’t mean we are all bad.”

He lifted an eyebrow at you. You supposed it was because he was expecting you to run. Which meant he obviously didn’t know you.

“What if I am just a bad guy?”

You shrugged. It was not like you were the dog’s bollocks yourself.

“I have a good enough instinct to know that you aren’t, Ricecake,” you said and pushed your now broken-up bread and curry meal toward him. You were going to regret it. You hadn’t eaten a full-fledged meal in three months, but still, you gave it anyway. “Eat.”

You would have wanted someone to do the same for you when you got here. Friends weren’t made under the sea. His eyes widened and his pale face brightened for the first time since you had met him.

“This is yours,” he said, sounding flabbergasted.

“Now it’s yours,” you said. “Eat up and get some rest. You need to be strong if you want to survive around here.”

You noticed something in his eyes then, a spark. It was dull but it flickered. Your stomach flipped again.

You took a sip of your water before pushing it over to him. He was going to need it more than you.

“Thank you,” he said.

You shook your head.

“There is no need for thanks between us. See it as me looking out for a fellow delinquent.”

“Delinquent?” he said taking his first bite of the bread drowned in curry sauce and rolling his eyes in bliss at the flavours. He began to hoover up the box like it was running away from him.

You remembered when you were like that with every small crumb of bread you got when you first got here. Your stomach flipped. What kind of hell had Wriothesley come from?

“Slow down buddy meals like this don’t come around every day,” you said. “Take it slow, no one can kick you out of here to work anyway. Seems they’re too afraid of us.”

He did as you said. Licking off his fingers, he looked around the floor at the glaring stationed guards and occasional inmates. He faced you his eyes glimmered with light like a shooting golden star flying across an icy sky.

“So, how do I get them to trust me?” he said leaning in.

You leaned back in your seat, your arms crossed and a smile on your face. You were sure now, that feeling in your stomach was hope.

remember that it's good, clean fun,

“Happy Birthday!” you grinned, setting down a box you had smuggled up from the cafeteria into his room. He raised a brow up at you. It was the 23rd of November, the day he’d decided was his birthday; the same day he was sentenced to Meropide.

“Ah, thank you,” he said politely. His stomach growled at the delicious aroma coming off the box revealing, despite his calm thanks, his eager anticipation for your yearly gift.

Guilt riddled him, as he dropped the gauntlet he had been upgrading, next to the cashflow machine he had found and tinkered back to use. He had wanted to pay you back. Every year, on the day he arrived you came with a box and another ten pieces of meshing gear for his tinkering, and as much as he secretly loved it, he felt like he wasn’t doing enough to pay you back.

It had been six years and yet he hadn’t gotten you a single thing he considered worth the amount of your kindness. Aside from a necklace with a piece of meshing gear that he had forged into a Cerberus insignia. You wore it everywhere. You wore it then, the rustic insignia rested on your chest. He had already put aside the pieces for a matching bracelet, a little trinket from him to you. A subtle hint to show that you were his, even if he hadn’t said it yet.

He unravelled the box and two tea bags fell out of the wrapping.

You picked them up and shook them before him.

“Tea for the occasion,” you said.

He smiled and closed his eyes.

“I fear, you know me too well.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know your favourite colour,” you said, brewing the tea in the teapot he kept on the wonky table.

“I don’t have one.”

Meaning he couldn’t choose one without them all tying to you. Maybe it was the colour of your hair, or eyes, or even the colour of your lips, he’d stare at those often. Too often lately. He was staring now. He looked away.

“Well, I guess I do know everything about you,” you chirped.

He thanked you as you handed him a cup of tea with two sugars just as he liked it. You knew these things. It wasn’t like you had spoken about them. No, you had been around him so much in the last few years that these things came naturally to you. It was like breathing. You sat beside him on the ground. Your tea warmed your hands.

“What else does the birthday boy want on his birthday?”

He fought back the blush though he was sure the colour still painted his skin.

“Nothing.”

“Come on! There has got to be something?”

Wriothesley shook his head and opened the box.

“Okay then if you insist. Share this box with me?”

“But it’s yours.”

“And I want to share it with you. Are you really going to deny me on my birthday? Remember, you are the one who asked what I want.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine.”

He broke up the bread inside one of the compartments in the box, the same way he'd watched you do it countless times. You reached in and dipped a large unbroken piece of bread into the soup before bringing it up to his lips. He stared at your hand.

“Open up. Come on, birthday boy, if we are sharing then you’ve got to have the first bite,” you said.

When it became apparent that you weren’t going to give up any time soon, he opened his mouth enough for you to slip the bread between his teeth. Both of you without the other's knowledge held your breath when he bit down, and his lips brushed the tips of your fingers.

A shiver ran through your body, one you knew would follow you to bed and into your filthiest dreams.

He pulled back and quickly cleared his throat, as he chewed without tasting.

“It’s delicious,” he said.

“It is,” you choked out, though you hadn’t tried it yet.

He didn’t bother to correct you, too lost trying to calm the riot in his chest. When he felt like he had better control of the battle in his chest he picked up a piece of bread, dipped it into the curry sauce and held it toward you. You blinked.

“You should try some too. You know since we are sharing and all.”

You took a bite from the bread letting the flavours wash over you. They too were lost to the way you noticed his eyes watching your lips enclose around the bread. You nodded and covered your mouth as you chewed.

“It is good,” you agreed, with a mouth full of mush.

He nodded and looked away from you, scooping up another piece of bread and popping it into his mouth. You would have thought he was unaffected until you saw his ears were deep shade of crimson.

Just wholesome delinquent behaviour,

“What’s this about?” You asked as he guided you with his large cold, calloused hands over your eyes. You envied his cryo vision, and his ability to stay cool down in that heat pit. He hid it well, but you knew he had one. You’d seen it one day by accident and not breathed a word about it since. Vision holders were targets down here and the last thing you wanted was to put him in any more danger.

“Patience. Don’t you know all good things come to those who know how to wait,” he said.

He had dragged you out of the production zone after finishing his work and disappeared off like he usually did only to reappear an hour later with that confident stride he had. You barely ever saw him these days, but when you did it would be like he was still the fresh-faced delinquent but older. You were both older. He guided you into a seat and then removed his hands. You missed the cool touch on your skin. It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the poor lighting.

“What is this?” you asked, staring at the giant box in front of you.

You looked up at Wriothesley. It had been twelve years since he came to the fortress and the once soft baby face was gone, lost to the grit of Meropide. Wriothesley commanded the trust and respect of everyone around him much to the administrator’s dismay. When you were working away in the production zone, to he would be off swaying the inmates and the guards, working his natural charisma on those around him.

“What happened?” You asked reaching up and grazing his split lip with your finger. He caught your wrist and dipped his head out of the way flashing you a half smile. He had grown even taller over the years and now you had to reach up to touch him. He glanced at the ring on your finger, and you snatched your hand away, your face flushed with embarrassment.

“I won some more coupons,” he said.

In reality, he had scrapped up the coupons that he’d hidden away in the case of a rainy day and used them to buy you the meal. A week earlier he had lost all his accumulated credit coupons in a single night to the Fortress’s administrator.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Is that so?” he sassed. “I suppose I should write a will.”

Your expression darkened.

“Kidding, of course,” he said.

“Of course.”

“I went to Sigewinne,” he assured you. “She said I would be fine as long I rested.”

“Good,” you said.

You turned back to the box.

Metal screeched on the floor as Wriothesley pulled his chair closer directly across from you. The place was unusually empty—only a few guards manned the area, but no other inmates could be spotted on the floor.

“So, what is this?” You could smell the faint fragrance of something familiar. Something you hadn’t smelt in years.

“Open it,” he said and gestured with his chin to the box.

You gave him a cautious look and lifted the lid. Inside sat four rolls of bread and two bowls worth of curry. Your heart fluttered. When you looked up at him, he was already watching you; his icy eyes shining like stars. You didn’t want to think anything of it… to hope. Hope was stolen from you. Hope led to you becoming trapped in a loveless engagement with one of the crooked guards.

“You really did it?” you said and ached a little inside.

This was supposed to be a happy moment but all you wanted to do was weep bitter water.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his toned scarred arms over his chest. He looked so broad and solid; all that boxing had morphed his physique into something godly. “I told you I would pay you back.”

“That was twelve years ago, and this is more than triple what I gave you.”

“I added the interest,” he said.

“Why now?”

He looked down at your ringed finger again and frowned. His brows drew together in the way they did when he was annoyed or thinking more than he was going to let you in on.

“I’m going to fight the administrator,” he said bluntly.

You paused mid-snap of your bread.

“You’re going to fight the administrator?” you repeated, unsure of whether you heard him correctly. “Your sentence is up. Why would you do that? You’re going to die.”

He shrugged.

“I refuse to watch people suffer under the crooked ruling of a tyrant,” he said and eyed your ring again. Your finger felt like it was on fire; you dipped a bit of bread in the curry and handed it to him. He waved it away.

“Why are you like this?” you said, and dropping the piece of bread into the curry, you watched it drown and disappear into the thick liquid. “Is it not enough that you’ll be free?”

You blinked back tears, your hands clenched on your thighs. You had watched nearly all of his fights and every single time your heart was in your throat. Every time he bled, every time he shook hands with his opponent; every time the ringleader held up his beaten-up arm to declare his victory. You hated it. You hated all of it.

He said your name with a tenderness he reserved only for you. A tenderness you didn’t want to hear. A tenderness you blocked out with everything in your soul.

“Is it so strange that I would want to fight for those whom I promised a better life out of genuine care?”

“Why did you do that?” you yelled, your voice came out harsher than you intended but it was too late to take it back. That was the thing about words, they could never be unspoken. He cleared his throat.

“As I recall, I didn’t come here to live under the thumb of another driver, and I thought you would understand that more than anyone else, but I see now that I was wrong and clearly you have been broken down after all.”

You bit down hard on your lips, and your jaw clenched so tight that you were sure you would crunch a tooth.

“Ric—Wriothesley. That’s not fair,” you whispered.

“Indeed, it’s not but it’s the truth.” He glanced away for a second. “Look, I am in love with you, and I have been for the last twelve years. I can’t simply watch you be with someone you hate just to get a sentence lowered that you still won’t tell me about. I could have helped you. I am helping you. I’m helping everyone,” he pushed his chair back and stood.

“…What?”

“I’m fighting tomorrow. Show up, if you have some time, of course; or don’t, but I’ll be looking out for you. You can find me in my dorm before then.”

You fought back the urge to chase after him, to slap him, to kiss him, to hold his hand, to hold him so tightly and cry the way you haven’t been able to since the day you were convicted. Instead, you didn’t. You sat in silence and ate the bread and curry watching your heart walk away from you.

Oh, remember your safe word,

His dorm room was across from yours. It was sparse like everything else in the underwater fortress. A pillow and scatty blanket lay atop a barely functioning mattress in a corner. Wriothesley sat at the small table barely standing on its uneven legs. A tiny pot brewed a herbal smelling tea, and two teacups sat in front of him.

“You came,” he said barely above a whisper. His confidence was a quiet one.

“You love me.”

“Would you like some tea?” he asked, gesticulating to the second cup in front of the spare chair.

You had been in here countless times; shared many cups of tea with him; helped pierce his ears and manage his wounds; watched him shadowbox the air as you sat crossed-legged on his bed; you had wondered what life would be like if Meropide was a better place; you had wondered if the people you left behind missed you as you laid next to each other on his floor staring at the giant fan on the ceiling. Not that either of you had anyone but each other. Wriothesley had said his siblings were strangers to him, and he was probably a ghost they would never want to see again. An unfortunate reminder of something they’d all rather forget, but he never forgot. He refused to. He lived his truth.

Every time he told you about his past you worried about how his view would change if you if knew your truth. However, Wriothesley never pressed too hard, never touched buttons he knew you didn’t want to be touched. Instead, he watched and observed, and took in all that you were willing to give him, just to see a glimmer behind the cracks of your mask.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

“Please.” He gestured to the chair. “Sit.” he filled your cup.

You took your seat and shifted around, unable to find comfort despite it being your usual chair. Feelings always made things feel different—uncomfortable. You knew this. Yet you still felt the discomfort, nonetheless.

“How did you know I would come?”

“I didn’t but I hoped and thankfully you didn’t disappoint, but you never do,” he said, filling his cup.

“No need to be modest with me, Wriothesley.”

“I am anything but modest with you,” he said your name softly.

You gulped. Wriothesley wasn’t one to mince his words, though tact was his favourite game.

“You must have heard about it already?” you brought the teacup to your lips taking a sip of the liquid. Credit coupons bought anything in this fortress, even the finest tea. “It’s all people can talk about when it comes to me.”

His expression darkened.

It was only a matter of time.

“You do, and yet you still love me?” you asked.

“I recall someone once telling me that we all are crooks and criminals down here but that didn’t mean we were all bad,” he recounted the words you had said to him when he arrived nearly verbatim. He leaned onto the table, and it shook on its uneven legs from the added weight. “Besides, I like hearing stories from their source.”

“Then ask.”

“What got you incarcerated?”

You took a deep breath. What did you have to lose? He had heard worse rumours.

For some reason, you cared about what he thought of you. You knew that feelings were fickle things, and yet, you cared that he loved you. You loved him too.

“Mariticide,” you said cooly, breaking the ice.

“But you were—“

“A child, I know.”

“I was illegally married off when I was eight years old to a man, twenty years my senior.”

Wriothesley remained neutral, you took it as your sign to keep going.

“He didn’t do anything to me until my twelfth birthday and then it started. At first, it was just touching and then it got worse. He was an influential Fontaine nobleman. One of the maids tried to help me report him but it didn’t work. So, one night when he came to my room, I had hidden a butter knife under my pillow. I castrated him and ran away, fleeing Fontaine. I wandered through Sumeru and then to Monstadt but even the city of freedom couldn’t protect me. So, I kept moving. It was when I was on my way through Liyue that the authorities caught up to me. The maid who had tried to help me was sleeping with the man and hence reported me. The hearing was quick, and I was put away fast. No one wanted to consider the implications of a thirteen-year-old being married to a thirty-three-year-old whom they all dined with. I heard he died a few years ago but my sentence keeps getting extended every time it gets close to the date of my term. I suspect it’s the maid. I was supposed to be here for eight years and well, I am still here. That’s why I must marry that Guard.” You took a long sip from your tea and then placed the cup down. “I’m damaged goods,” you said.

Wriothesley remained silent. He looked to be thinking of something and you had never seen his expression so dark.

“You’re not damaged,” he said, “and he’s lucky he lived after that.”

You smiled. It was a bitter smile; one filled with more exhaustion than remorse.

“Luck favours the rich.”

“If a man will not work, he shall not eat,” Wriothesley said, reciting the famous lines that painted the walls of Meropide.

You raised your teacup at him before taking another sip.

“Jokes aside, thank you for telling me,” he said.

He stood up and you feared he was going to ask you to leave. You wouldn’t be sad, at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself, but the sinking feeling came all the same.

He offered you his hand and you stared at it. Your brows furrowed before you hesitantly took it. He pulled you up to your feet. His cold hand intertwined with yours.

“Can I hug you?” he asked.

He’d never asked this before. Did you look like you needed a hug? Because you wanted one.

“Please,” you choked out.

You would never have described Wriothesley as warm, but when he held you in his arms and you heard his heart racing you couldn’t deny that he was undoubtedly warm. A single tear rolled down your cheek. Then another, and another, and another until you were sobbing into his shabby inmate shirt.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I know.”

You’d been holding onto these feelings for so long. Letting them fester inside you like a sickness. No one had ever stopped to hear your side of the story and you thought you were okay with that. You thought if they stayed away from you then you could pretend to be like every other inmate brought in for stealing a slice of cake meant for Lady Furina. You thought you could hide your truth, but behind every fake smile, you wore it on yourself like a body of armor.

His shirt crumpled in your hands. He swayed from side to side and traced tiny circles on your back with his thumb.

“You did what you had to do. If he was alive, I’d kill him,” he said.

You wiped your eyes and looked up at him. “Please don’t fight tomorrow.”

He brought a hand up to your cheek and brushed away your tears. He decided then that he hated your tears, and he would do anything to see to it that you didn’t feel that way again.

However, he hated the idea of you living with this pain more. He hated seeing that diamond on the finger where his should be. He hated it even more that you knew that he hated it before he had admitted his feelings for you. If his resolve hadn’t been solidified before now it would be completely. He would free you, and if you decided you wanted to be with him once you sprouted your wings, then he would accept you with open arms. He wouldn’t put you in another cage. He’d hate to see your heart break because to him you were his heart.

Wriothesley’s attention dropped to your lips; they were wet with your tears. He leaned down and brushed his lips to the corner feeling your sadness.

You turned your head at the last moment and captured his lips.

He froze.

You gripped his shirt tighter and reached up on the tips of your toes pressing your mouth further into his; willing him to reciprocate. Your first kiss with Wriothesley tasted like bitter water. It was soft and desperate. It knew what it was without the need for words or discussion.

His chest heaved as he pulled away.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered.

“I won’t…”

He wouldn’t—at least not tonight. Although, he didn’t know whether it was day or night outside of Meropide. The underworld was a different world entirely. It never truly slept. It didn’t adhere to the rules of the sun or the moon. It was filled with endless possibilities. Possibilities that could alter both of your existences and if he couldn’t free you above ground, he knew sure as hell would free you below. Although, one night of keeping you safe in his arms couldn’t hurt.

You sat down on his mattress. You looked so much smaller than he remembered, then again it had been twelve years.

He recalled your soot-covered face, and dull eyes when you had greeted him, the day he arrived at Meropide. The day he had begun his new life; his birthday. Although the circumstances weren’t great, he knew from the moment you said, ‘Welcome to hell,’ that he would love you.

He sat beside you.

“Tell me what you want?” he said, earnestly.

You leaned into him.

“I want you to be yours.”

It was true. You wanted him. Engagement be damned. Even if it was just one night, you wanted something for you. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was asking for too much, but you didn’t care. You had spent too long denying yourself the things you want to maintain a peace no one else upheld.

Wriothesley gripped your wrist and groaned what sounded like your name, but you couldn’t be too sure.

“Give me a word,” he said.

“What?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he began.

“I am not fragile.”

Though in front of him, you were.

“I know you are not. Give me a word so I know to stop if it gets too much for you.” He tucked your hair behind your ear and rested his forehead against yours.

“Time,” you breathed.

That’s what you wanted—time. Time to love him, time to live, time to take back all the things you regretted and start again. Time to meet him before you both became who you were.

“Okay,” he said, leaving a kiss behind your ear. “Tonight, you’re mine.”

Only tonight. He reminded himself.

He could promise you that for certain. He couldn’t promise tomorrow, not because he was a pessimist but because he knew tomorrow was never certain. He had you now. He would make sure he had you forever but now would have to be enough. He would make it enough.

“Yours. Completely,” you said.

Another tear rolled down your cheek.

He pulled off his shirt.

Your mouth merged with his, your tongue slipping into his open mouth tangling, exploring searching. He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes closing despite the desire to see every expression on your face.

You broke the kiss and leaned back pulling off your shirt. His eyes dropped to your breasts.

“Just for me,” he whispered, taking them into his hands and kneading them slowly.

He traced kisses down your neck, wishing to mark you, to lay his claim to you. He wouldn’t however, not yet…not tonight.

You fiddled with the string to his bottoms, untangling it and reaching in to feel his erection. He groaned against your neck unafraid to let you know how good it felt. You grasped his cock. It was thick, thicker than you expected, and so hard. You needed both hands to grip him properly.

“Take off that fucking ring,” he hissed upon feeling it on his skin. You did, taking off the ring and dropping it with your shirt on the floor. You gripped his cock again, your hands feeling so much lighter without the mental weight of the ring.

“Harder,” he growled as you stroked him.

You tightened your grip watching as the crease between his brows grew. He rolled his hips into your hand.

“Oh, that’s it,” he panted.

You bit your lip and focused on the reddened tip.

Your thumb brushed the crown wiping away the drops of precum. He jolted, his jaw unhinging, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. You froze and released his cock. He opened his eyes, worried, only to see you on your knees between his legs.

He opened his legs wider and slid closer to the edge of the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and gripped it in his hand as he used the other to keep him up on the bed.

“Go on,” he said. “Show me how much you want me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Gripping, his cock you gave the tip a lick listening to his pleased grunts. Slowly you took him into your mouth, enjoying the sensation of his hand gripping your hair.

“Good girl, taking me so well.”

You were soaked just from listening to his praise. You slipped a hand into your underwear and began rubbing your clit.

His breath quickened, and his mouth felt incredibly dry from his inability to close it. His hips jerked, as you took him deeper. He heard you gag as he felt your throat quiver around his cock. He pulled out, letting you catch your breath before he thrust back into your throat. Your eyes rolled and drove a finger into yourself.

You bobbed your head keeping up with the brutal pace he was setting. You loved hearing his grunts and groans; you loved feeling his cock twitch and his pace stagger as he got closer. Despite how hard it was, you looked up at him. His mouth was agape, his eyes barely open. You released him just when you knew he was going to cum.

Wriothesley opened his eyes to see you waiting, mouth open, your mouth and chin dripping with saliva. You looked glorious.

“You’re stunning,” he breathed and released your hair, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping it until the first spray of cum splattered your lips. “So perfect, with such a pretty mouth.”

You licked your lips and opened your mouth again, leaning closer till the tip rested against your tongue.

Wriothesley felt like he was in a dream or heaven or both.

“Swallow it all,” he panted as he pumped the rest onto your tongue.

You did so, licking your lips and opening your mouth to prove it.

At the sight of your flushed face, your blown lust-filled eyes, and your hand deep in your pants, he found himself hardening again. He had promised tonight, and tonight he was going to have. If he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.

“Get on the bed right now, naked and on your back,” he ordered.

You shimmied off your work pants and your underwear, laying on the bed under his hungry gaze. He stood and stripped the rest of his clothes away before joining you on the bed. It was barely big enough for both of you, but he was going to make it work. He kneeled before your closed legs.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good.”

“Just good?” he teased, a smirk on his lips.

“Mhm just good,” you responded, reciprocating the expression.

“Oh, we’ll have to fix that,” he said, and scooping under your thighs, he opened your legs and pulled you closer to him.

You giggled at the speed at which he had your legs wrapped around his waist and his hard cock pressing against your soaked folds. He caged you between his arms as he rolled his hips slowly.

“I love you,” he said, staring into your eyes.

“I love you too,” you responded.

“I know.”

He kissed you with everything in his soul. At some point, he knew you loved him even if you hadn’t said it till just now. He knew it like how he knew the back of his hand but hearing it made it even better. It made it real.

He rubbed the head of his cock against your soaked hole, pushing in the tip just enough to feel you quiver before pulling out and running it over your pussy again.

“If I fuck you, you’re mine. No one touches what is mine. Do you understand?” He asked

Your heart stuttered.

“I understand.”

“After all, no one will be able to fuck you the way I can. Once I’m inside you unless you tell me otherwise, I’m not stopping until we both see stars,” he said, making sure he looked straight into your eyes as he did.

This wasn’t a game for him, he meant every single word and you knew it.

“Wriothesley, there will never be anyone like you.”

He groaned and slid in. Your back arched at the sheer size of his cock stretching you beyond your limits. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, grabbing onto the sheets for support.

“Breathe, relax,” he whispered. “Hold onto me.”

He continued to slowly push in bringing his knees closer giving him the right angle to get in as deep as possible. He gasped upon seeing himself completely disappear inside you. You tightened your legs around his waist, and dragged him down gripping his back, locking you into a mating press.

He waited till the need for release subsided before he began to move. The shitty bedframe, not built for the purpose it was being used for, squeaked, and hit against the wall. The sound of skin slapping against skin, and stifled cries joined the air disturbing whatever sorry soul had the misfortune of being on the other side of the wall. Neither of you cared at that moment. Within minutes you had already come twice.

Your chest heaved, and Wriothesley cupped them leaving bites all over your breasts, he avoided any place people would be able to see but needed to mark you somewhere. He moved back up to your ear and nibbled on the lobe.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he said quietly.

You slipped a hand between your rocking bodies and began to rub your clit. Wriothesley leaned back till he was kneeling. Gripping your waist, he continued to fuck you watching with hawk-like focus the way your fingers played with your clit. It was like you were under display, laid out for him to observe and study, and you were.

“So, that’s how you like it?” he said, feeling your walls clench around him for the third time that night.

You whimpered in response, your words had long since failed you. You began to slow as your hand grew tired and your body became closer to a collection of jolting nerves than functioning limbs.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You can give me two more, right?” he said.

You moaned as he replaced your hand continuing to rub your clit just as vigorously as you had started.

“Wriothesley,” you cried,

“Ssh, you’ve got this. Let go. Be a good girl and give me two more,” he urged you on.

You bit your lip and threw your head back letting out another cry which he swallowed eagerly. Your walls clenched again, and your body began to show the signs of a squirt. You sprayed, your legs shaking, your toes curling.

“Shit, you’re incredible. One more,” he captured your lips. “You’ve done so good. Just give me one more, my love,” he said against them.

One more and he would be satisfied. One more and he could guarantee that he would have enough resolve to follow through with his plans. Just one more.

You shivered again and bit down on his bottom lip as your final climax washed over you barely a minute later. He growled at the pain, tugging his lip from your mouth, and kissing you properly.

“Well done,” he said but continued thrusting at the same brutal pace. “I’m nearly there.”

You used what little strength you had to keep him inside. He said your name for what was the thousandth time that night.

“Not tonight,” he panted, smiling against your lips. “Trust me, I want to. I do, but not tonight.”

He pulled out and kissed you softly, stroking himself until his release painted your stomach. He kissed your forehead and rolled off you to not squash you under his weight.

You turned onto your side and cuddled into him. He wrapped his arms around you and entangled your limbs. You faced each other on the damp sheets.

It felt like time stopped. Everything melted away, you didn’t know whether it had been forty or four hours, and you didn’t care. You felt sticky and wet, the only thing cooling you down was the natural coolness of his skin on yours. Sleep drifted over you like a blanket not soon after. You tried to fight it off, wishing to talk to him longer; to try and convince him against fighting the administrator; to find a way with you because as long as you had each other you knew everything would be okay…

“Everything is going to be okay,” he said quietly as if he had read your mind, sending you off to sleep. “It’s all going to be okay.”

When you woke the next morning, well when the sound of the guards woke you from your sex-induced coma, Wriothesley was gone.

Remember your safeword.

You woke to cool scarred arms wrapped securely around your waist. Wriothesley’s head rested on your breasts. Flecks of grey mixed seamlessly into the stream of black hair reminded you that you were no longer in the past. You shifted slightly to free an arm. He grumbled something and nuzzled his head further into your breasts, securing his arms tighter around you as if afraid you were going to disappear. It was a habit he had developed over the years, an incessant need to hold onto you when he slept. You didn’t mind it too much, you liked being cold when you went to bed; it helped you sleep better.

“Wriothesley,” you whispered and ran a hand through his hair. You laid a peck on his forehead, and he stirred.

“Is it morning already?” he grumbled, though his eyes remained closed.

He had been awake for as long as you had been lost in your thoughts, silently listening to the sound of your pounding heart. He couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts ailed you on nights like these.

You admired the thick dark lashes casting shadows over his face.

“No, I just can’t sleep,” you said.

You knew his skin like the back of your hand. The scar under his eye, the scar on his neck that led down to the center of his breastplate and stopped on his sternum. The ones wrapped around his arms, the ones that scattered his waist and stomach, the ones on his thighs; even the small faint one on his calf from when he fell over as a kid. He told you that was when he knew his skin was going to be littered with scars. Wriothesley scarred easily and he scarred badly. However, despite their jagged appearances, none of them were too hideous for you to bear. You didn’t like them, but you loved Wriothesley, and as they were as a part of him as any other part of him, you learnt to love them too. They represented how many battles he had won. They represented every promise kept.

You lifted his head up and kissed the scar on his face, the one right under his eye.

You could feel his hardened cock pressing against your thigh. His pupils were blown when he finally opened his eyes.

He loved you so much it hurt. Yes, physically but also mentally. He loved how you accepted him, he loved how you chose him, and he loved how you chose you too. Most of all he loved how you looked when you teased him, so raw, so ripe, so ready to dismantle you completely.

“Oh, I can think of ways to help with that,” he murmured.

“I don’t know if I have the stamina, your grace,” you teased.

He let out a guttural noise.

He nibbled and sucked on your nipple, messaging your other breast in his cold, rough hands. Your breath staggered as you gave in to his touch. The sound went straight to his cock. He had fucked you into the sheets earlier that night, till you were blubbering and couldn’t remember your own name. Still, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough; he would never get enough of you. Despite your fear that one day he would disappear, he never would. It was Wriothesley who worried that one day you would grow tired of his incessant need to be near you; to have you, to consume you. So, he savoured every squirm, every shiver, every breathy gasp of his name that you would spare him, terrified that they’d be his last.

“Ah, well it’s a good thing that I have enough stamina for the both of us,” he said switching his attention from one boob to the other. The earlier hickeys had already darkened on your skin. “Think you can cum again?”

He would kiss each one later wishing for them to last forever.

“You’re insatiable,” you blushed.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I have my favourite meal right where I want her,” he said and began to trail his tongue down your stomach towards your sensitive clit. He wanted you on his tongue, in his senses… everywhere.

“Do you remember your safeword?” he asked. It was what he always did before you both did anything sexual beyond intimate fondling and brisk kisses.

“Time,” you said.

“Good girl.” He half grinned.

He continued teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, absorbing every twitch and shake of your body.

“Wriothesley,” you spluttered. “I need you.”

“You’ve got me,” he said.

He slipped his tongue into you, circling, lapping, like a man possessed he devoured you. His nose brushed against your skin. It was knowing his eyes were on you the entire time that made everything feel ten times more stimulating. You let out a quiet gasp and gripped his hair.

“You’re so good for me.” He gave you a broad lick. “So perfect.”

He replaced his tongue with his fingers, curling them inside you and scissoring them open to stretch you out not that you needed much with how well he had fucked you before. Still, it was the thought of giving you pleasure that spurred him on.

“Wriothesley,” you said.

He hummed to show you he was listening, the vibration made you quiver.

“I want your cuffs.”

He paused and pulled away, perking up. He secretly loved it when you surprised him.

“Oh? What for?”

You smiled and gestured for his cuffs. He scrambled off the queen-sized bed and walked butt naked to where he left his cuffs. You admired his ass from the bed. He had a great ass, he knew it too, it was why he wore his jacket around Meropide. His nickname Ricecake had gotten around the Fortress years ago and whilst it was okay when he was a convict, he didn’t need that level of familiarity as the Duke. Besides, you were the only one he wanted observing his ass.

He climbed back onto the bed and handed them to you, the spiked metal looked so good in your hands. His eyes flickered to the rings on your ring finger—his rings. The ones he gave you when he officially proposed.

He never ended up fighting that day due to the administrator’s sudden disappearance.

He recalled how you had run around Meropide searching for him, your hair a mess, the beginnings of one of the love bites he had left dauntingly close to view, poking out of one of his shirts that you had thrown on instead of your own. He recalled how you had slammed open the door to the administrator’s office, breathless, beautiful, with your eyes full of tears to him sitting behind the desk organising the abandoned files. He recalled how he claimed you again there, in that office over and over and over again. The other man’s ring was long gone somewhere down the many drains of Meropide, and your sentence cleared not long after. There were perks to becoming the administrator of the fortress of Meropide. Perks that had the maid of that man who hurt you disappear to a place only known by Celestia, the Archons, Navia, and Wriothesley. Neuvillette knew too but unless there was a trial, he would keep his nose out of it.

You knelt on the bed swinging the cuffs on your fingers.

“Where have you gone?” you cooed bringing him back to reality.

“Mm, nowhere, just admiring the view,” he said coolly.

You shook your head and pushed him to lay back against the pillows.

“You’re working too hard, your grace. I can fix that,” you said and straddled him.

Reaching above him, you cuffed his arms to the bed frame.

He cocked a brow and playfully tugged against the restraints.

“Ah, I hope so,” he said.

You kissed the corner of his mouth, smirking.

His cock twitched at the memory of your first time together.

“Remember the safeword?” you asked.

Seeing you sat on him, your eyes filled with life, he couldn’t care less that you didn’t remember your past before Meropide. He didn’t care that you didn’t recall how he was the boy you gave bread to once when you spotted him wandering away from his home. How you had given him, a complete stranger what looked like your last piece of food because he was sitting alone. He didn’t care if all you remembered was your last two and a half decades together… because you were here now with him. You chose him just as he chose you.

“Time," he responded.

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