#SHE AND US DISAGREE A LOT. SHE'S CALLED US CHALLENGING. BUT SHE NEVER QUITS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sopebubbles · 2 years

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Chapter Eight

Summary: How many men will it take to save you? To be honest, you've gotten pretty used to saving yourself. Even though you're far from a delicate thing, Los Angeles is a dangerous place you can't seem to escape no matter how hard you try. The top 7 members of Bangtan should never have crossed your path, but they soon find they'd do just about anything to help you escape your past and make it safe for you to stay. But will you?

Genre: mafia au, poly ot7, angst, some smut, honestly a lot more fluff than i expected, POC reader/oc

Warnings: language, mentions of potential violence, drinking, being drugged

Word count: 8.7K

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Hoseok frowned, but not out of sadness. His eyes were hard, an absolutely lethal look on such a handsome man.

"What's the matter, Hoseok?" Namjoon asked, sitting across the desk from him after spelling out his plan for you. Hoseok merely grunted in response, a refusal. "Speak your mind," Namjoon encouraged. Although he was the leader of the gang's Los Angeles operations, he was always careful to show respect to those close to him. Hoseok was only half a year older than him, after all, and they were peers except for all the privileges Namjoon has had in his life, of which Jung Hoseok had never known any. Any shred of deference to the man's opinion is entirely a courtesy on Namjoon's part, which, given his position, he has no obligation to extend. But Hoseok had done more for this organization than anyone will ever know, and Namjoon's respect for him knew no bounds.

"Why are you going so easy on her?" Hoseok spoke in an even tone, and Seokjin turned to look at the leader for an answer.

Those two had been together for years now. It was because of Seokjin that Hoseok was even in Los Angeles. Jin could just as easily be the leader of Bangtan. He had two years on Namjoon, who was his cousin. But Namjoon had grown up in this city, knew its inner workings better and had a grander vision for their operations. So even though he could have challenged for the top spot upon Namjoon's fathers death, he never considered it, more than happy to play second in command, especially when Namjoon's leadership proved to be collaborative. They rarely disagreed in ways that truly mattered.

"It's not about going easy on her. I only want to test her loyalty, not her life. It isn't worth putting her life in real danger before we even know what her true value is," Namjoon reasoned.

"Can't we assume enough about her loyalty from things with Taehyung?" Hoseok wondered. He still wasn't clear on the whole situation. Nothing you did made sense to him.

Namjoon shook his head thoughtfully. "I don't think that has anything to do with loyalty. I think he frightens her, and she has to show she isn't afraid of him. It's her fight. I don't think it will impact her actions for us."

Hoseok scoffed.

"The point is, we won't know until we test her, and Namjoon is right. Her loyalty won't do us any good if we put her into a position to get herself killed. Let her earn our trust and when she finds out we're looking out for her wellbeing, she'll trust us. Things will solidify. All you have to do is drive the car," Seokjin reminded the subordinate.

"Fine," Hoseok agreed.

"Good. Go and let her know we'd like to speak with her. She should be in the gym with Jungkook."

Your eye hadn't swollen shut at least, so it was decided that you would be able to complete a mission tonight. Despite being a little sore from the previous day, you were up early in the gym with Kook. He managed to convince you to use gloves and train with mitts instead of hitting each other. He wouldn't admit it but you had left some bruises with your hits the day before. So he called out combinations as the two of you danced around the gym. He was exhausting you, but you refused to quit until he did. Then Hoseok came to your rescue.

He stood silently, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the door jam as you jabbed, ducked and pursued Jungkook through the room for several minutes. Finally, Jungkook gave you a break. You hadn't even seen the other man standing there until Jungkook straightened up and tapped your shoulder and nodded in his direction.

"What's up, hyung?" Jungkook panted as he removed the mitts from his hand so he could grab a bottle of water.

"Boss wants to see you," Hoseok said flatly, nodding in your direction.

"Okay," you managed as you tried to fill your lungs with air. Hoseok was momentarily distracted by the rise and fall of your glistening chest as you removed your boxing gloves. You didn't see it, but Jungkook certainly did, smirking to himself, a small laugh escaping that brought Hoseok's attention back.

"Now," Hoseok said more sharply.

"Ya voy," you mumbled as you grabbed a towel to wipe your sweat and a water bottle before walking toward the slim man.

Hoseok held out his hand, inviting you to go ahead of him, forcing you to squeeze past him through the doorway. You tried to pat yourself dry as you walked down the hallway toward the stairs. As he watched you walk in front of him, ponytail bouncing with each step, he noticed the end of a scar, an inch or two, peeking out from beneath the fabric of your tank top on your brown shoulder. He thinks about the way Taehyung mentioned your scars the other day when you were explaining your past. There must be more of them. He wondered how many, and how they might compare to his own. His hand lifted involuntarily, like he was going to touch it before he came to his senses and lowered the rebellious hand. He cleared his throat to shake off his own awkwardness and you turned around to recognize him, but he only stared at you blankly, so you turned back and walked up the stairs. His foolish eyes couldn't look anywhere but at your ass as he climbed ahead of him and he almost tripped on a couple of steps.

When you finally arrived at Namjoon's office, he was the only one there. Seokjin was gone without you ever even knowing he had been there, on about his business as he always seemed to be, a bit aloof from the others in the few days of observation you'd had. When you entered Namjoon didn't sit, so neither did you or Hoseok. The latter stood between you and the door, creating the feeling of trapping you. His face told nothing, but Namjoon wasn't fond of Hoseok's methods for dealing with you; didn't like the way Hoseok was crowding you.

He was making a show of testing you and proving your loyalty, but the truth was, Namjoon wanted to protect you, no questions asked. The only reason he didn't was because he knew how it would look, to you and to the others. He knew you would hate the claustrophobia of the kind of protection he was capable of offering you, and he knew that you would run. He couldn't treat you like something as delicate and precious as you were. The moment you'd entered his office the first time he knew you were more broken than you would ever admit. Your facade was a fine porcelain mask you'd glued back together so many times in so many places that the cracks had begun to look like the design rather than marks of tragedy. As if you were made to be broken. But you weren't, and Namjoon would like to see that nothing broke you again.

Namjoon also knew what his men would see if he simply gave you all he wanted to. You had been Taehyung's woman. Not in the way the younger man had meant it, but in the way that would make it disrespectful for anyone else to provide for you. And even as you pushed Taehyung farther and farther out of the picture, the others might see him as weak or indecent if he moved too fast in his affections for you. He had to play it cool, even when he felt anything but.

He certainly didn't feel cool when you walked in, skin still flushed from your exercise. But he hid it well. Even when you bowed the way Jungkook had taught you earlier, and he could see the depth of your cleavage, his features stayed perfectly schooled.

"What do you need, boss?" You asked evenly, ignoring the way Hoseok standing behind you had your hackles up.

Namjoon quirked an eyebrow at you. "Calling me boss already? When I haven't even given you a job?"

Your fingers twisted anxiously in the towel you were holding, and it didn't escape Namjoon's notice. Were you afraid he was about to toss you out?

"I just picked up on the fact that you all use titles a lot, and so it seemed wrong to address you as Namjoon, so…" You trailed off. Usually you were much more confident when you spoke to him. Even Hoseok could see from his position behind you how you shifted nervously on your feet.

"You can call me by my name, Val," he said calmly. Namjoon wasn't overly concerned about formalities, as long as everyone behaved properly otherwise. Nevertheless, the fact that you were trying to observe their customs to the best of your ability, that little bow you did earlier, touched him in a way he didn't expect. It almost seemed like the kind of thing you'd do if you wanted to stay for a long time. But he was getting too far ahead of himself. "It just so happens that I do have a job for you."

At that you noticeably perked up. Your nervous tics stopped and your back straightened. "What do you need?"

"You said you were a thief, right?"

You nodded. "I have some experience with things that aren't mine, yeah," you smirked. You never particularly liked stealing things for Joaquin, but if that was all you would have to do to prove yourself to Namjoon, then it was just too easy.

"Good, because what I want you to take is something that belongs to me."

"What is it?"

Namjoon took one hand out of his pocket and waved you forward toward the desk between you. He slid a picture over the smooth surface for you to look at. You took a moment to look over the object in the photograph: a small statue, less than a foot tall. The longer you examined it the more sure Namjoon was that you had no idea what exactly you were looking at. It wasn't hard to guess with your biography that you had little interest in or knowledge of art. But you didn't need to in order to complete the mission. You just had to memorize what it looked like.

"Do you know what this is?" Namjoon asked after a moment.

"A statue?" It wasn't a wrong answer.

"Yes. A very old and valuable one. The Triads stole it from me, and I need you to get it back." Namjoon looked down his nose at you as you straightened up, looking up at him from the picture.

"Just this one little statue?" Namjoon nodded his head. "Do you know where it is?"

"I believe it is in the home of one of their leaders. A greedy man with a taste for expensive art. He has a vast personal collection." Namjoon looked over your shoulder to Hoseok when he stretched his neck a certain way he always did when he was annoyed.

"When will we be able to strike?" You asked confidently.

"I know for a fact that he'll be out of the house tonight on business. You'll have a window of time. Hoseok will drive you, but you'll have to go in and complete the mission alone."

"What's the catch?" You smirked.

"No catch," Namjoon answered, not missing Hoseok's eye roll. "Just get in, get the statue, and bring it back to me."

"What's security like? If this guy has a fucking at museum in his house, he must be guarding it, right?" Hoseok's eyebrows lifted, just slightly impressed you thought that through.

"Nothing ostentatious. Just two armed guards. From what I've heard, your skills should get you through them just fine."

Namjoon leaned over to open a side drawer in his large desk and reached inside. "You'll be needing this." He handed you a brand new phone. "Yoongi said you lost your old one. You'll need this from now on for me to contact you."

He didn't let on that it would be a way to monitor you, though he didn't want it to come to that. Then again you weren't stupid. Namjoon really wanted to believe that you were here for the reasons you'd told all of them. He was sure you'd prove yourself. He hoped he wouldn't need a cell phone to communicate with you because you'd always be safe inside his home. But he knew that was a bit unrealistic.

"Thanks," you murmured as you felt the weight of it in your hands. He watched as some unreadable thoughts crossed your mind before you turned to Hoseok. "Anything else?"

Hoseok's sharp eyes snapped to your face. "We leave at nine." He spoke so rigidly it seemed his hard set jaw didn't even move. And then he walked away without being dismissed by Namjoon

"Hoseok is…" the leader searched for the right words.

"Happy to have me here. I know," you grumbled as you slid the phone into the pocket of your tight pants.

"It isn't you. Bangtan is all Hoseok has. He's wary of outsiders. But I'm sure you'll gain his trust as you'll gain mine. He just needs time."

"Yeah, sure, trust," you repeated vaguely.

Hoseok didn't even address you when you reached the bottom of the stairs. He scrutinized your outfit silently, not finding enough fault to bother criticizing you, but not impressed either. Your black jeans, black combat boots and black tank top under a black jacket might have been a little too on the nose of "I'm going to steal your shit" for his taste.

"What? You want me to wear a leather catsuit?" You snarked. Jungkook laughed through his nose. Hoseok's lip almost twitched with a smile. English wasn't either of your first languages, but you were still funny, and somehow that annoyed him.

Without responding, he went for the door, leading you out to one of the sleek, black Genesis G70s they used for business.

"Good luck, Val," Yoongi said softly.

You pause with your hand on the door to give him a smile. "Thanks, oppa," you replied, grateful for his trust and support, even when you hadn't earned it.

You took quick steps to catch up with Hoseok and get around to the passenger side of the car so he wouldn't have to wait for you and have one more reason to treat you like the most irritating person he'd ever met.

He'd made you think for a few moments last night that he was open to knowing you, but today he'd put those feelings to bed. Namjoon was right. It wasn't your fault. He didn't trust outsiders. It was his job not to. And truth be told he didn't trust women.

Not in like, he didn't trust women to do their jobs or he thought they were only good for sex. He didn't trust them anywhere near him. Hoseok was the definition of mommy issues, and that wasn't really his fault, but it was hardly yours either. Your recent actions with Taehyung only made him more wary of you, of your fecklessness and dependability. He'd found you amusing at first when he thought you'd only be on the periphery, a factor of Taehyung's life, not the whole gang. Now you seemed to threaten his whole life, and you were obnoxiously alluring while you did it. Even if half your face was mottled with purple-black bruises.

The car was silent as Hoseok drove down Santa Monica boulevard. He didn't play any music or say a word to you practically the whole way. If one of the others had taken you it would have been different. He'd noticed the easy, humorous rapport you'd already established with the maknae. No doubt you and Jungkook would be bantering happily if he were accompanying you on this mission. Had it been Taehyung obviously it would have been more tense, but he doubted it would be silent. Hoseok did nothing to put you at ease or boost your confidence, but it didn't seem like you needed it. If you were nervous, you hid it well. You simply watched the bright colorful lights pass by on the street outside under the tall palm trees, as if you were going to enjoy the late summer night at one of the many restaurants on the boulevard instead of going off to commit a crime in the home of a dangerous man. The fact it didn't unsettle you at all was itself a bit unsettling. Hoseok had seen your nervousness this afternoon. He'd seen fear in you the other day. Right now, you seemed perfectly at ease from what he could see in your body language and the discolored side of your face that was visible to him when he looked over at you without you knowing. He continued to say nothing until he brought the car to a stop in a wealthy neighborhood in Santa Monica.

"The house is that one up there." Hoseok nodded up the street a few houses away. "You'll want to go in the back. You'll have to subdue the guards, but try not to kill anyone. Not in the mood to clean up your mess tonight."

"I haven't killed anyone," you reminded him. "Recently," you added, mumbling under your breath.

"Here." Hoseok disregarded your comments, holding out a small pistol to you.

"I don't need that." You sounded very sure yet also very nervous.

"Just in case," he shrugged.

"I don't want it."

"Just take it," he growled, pushing it further toward you. You stared at the weapon in his hand for a moment before you sighed heavily. You checked to make sure the safety was on before you slipped it into the back of your belt.

"Anything else?" You grumbled, looking away from him, pretending to just be scanning the street.

"Phone," he demanded with his thin, long hand held out, palm up. You fished it out of your pocket and handed it over. Hoseok began typing in his number when it appeared, pre-programmed into your device by Namjoon so you'd be able to contact any one of them if you needed to. Hoseok felt that was a bit presumptuous, but he squashed his inner voice, reminding himself that Namjoon was his leader and he owed him loyalty and trust in his judgement. He tried to swallow down that fact as he hit the call button, answering it on his own device before he handed yours back to you.

"Stay on the call, whatever you do, but don't speak to me unless you absolutely must. This shouldn't take you more than ten minutes."

"Sure. You done?"

"Yeah." His tone was equally exasperated as your own.

"Lovely." You pushed open the car and got out without another look in his direction.

Hoseok watched you walk past the house he had parked in front of to the one he signaled, going casually, like you belonged here and not like someone about to break in. Luckily the street was fairly quiet and there was enough foliage and darkness to hide you. You turned a corner and he lost sight of you, only able to hear what you were doing from the phone inside your jacket pocket, but he was familiar enough with the surroundings to imagine where you were and what you were doing. He heard a quiet grunt and then feet on pavement, so he guessed you'd jumped over the gate leading to the front door. He hoped you'd take cover soon and felt better when he heard the rustling of leaves. You were being too loud and it irritated him to no end. He cursed you under his breath and then had to check to make sure he was on mute so you wouldn't hear him. At first when you went silent he was relieved—at least you had stopped making so much noise. But when one minute turned into two he started to feel anxious. He told himself it was just his desire to control the situation, to be doing it in your place instead of uselessly listening. You should be moving by now. It wasn't a requirement to pass this mission, but he expected you to be quick, like he would've been. His legs ached to take action. Suddenly you moved, more quietly this time. He could hear footsteps, but they were too heavy to be yours, so you must have found a guard. The sound of grunting and a strangled struggle confirmed his thoughts, and he wondered if you were choking the man from behind with your belt the way you did with the rope the other night, or if you were managing it with just your arms. A moment later, the sound of something heavy dropping to the ground and then nothing again. Half a minute passed with hardly any sound at all, and then the faint click of a door.

You were inside.

He listened closely, trying to pick up on your quiet footsteps and guess where you were in the house. Perhaps you looked around the foyer, the living room, got a peek inside the kitchen. For one solid minute he listened to you go from room to room directionlessly, making almost no sound at all, and while that was for the best it had him absolutely on edge. Then finally, the sound of your boots on the stairs, going down.

Good girl.

Maybe you took a lucky guess, maybe it was instincts, but either way you were heading in the right direction. He knew that downstairs was where the bulk of this man's art was stored, a personal museum built to his personal tastes. Rustling filled the speaker, like you are taking the phone out of your pocket, maybe to use as a flashlight. If you could remember what the object looked like he was sure you'd find it any second. Your footsteps stopped for a few seconds, and he heard a quiet, happy sigh.

Eight minutes gone and your mission was half complete. You still had to get out and there was still one guard out there. Footsteps going up the stairs now, but not quite to freedom.

"Fuck," he heard you beathe when you reached the top of the stairs. Hoseok's hands twitched for the door handle to get out and go to you, but he controlled himself. More rustling and then utter silence until. Whack. The sound of the butt of Hoseok's pistol to the second guard's thick skull. Finally, homefree. Confident now, with two guards down, you strode triumphantly to the front door. He heard it open and then.

Slow clapping.

Honestly, Seokjin can be so dramatic sometimes, he thinks.

Your attempts at subtlety obviously went out the window as Hoseok hears you stumble back.

"Oh, please, put the gun down, Val," he heard Jin's voice. "We both know you won't shoot me."

A beat and then: "So this is your house. This was all a set up? This whole trial is fake?"

"Namjoon thought it would be best if you were never in any actual danger. But don't worry, you completed your mission. I'm sure he'll be pleased with the way you've played his little game," Seokjin's voice was velvety, over the top, and it let his right hand man know that he wasn't impressed by this so-called trial either. But that was never the point, was it?

"Right. Well, I better get back then," your disembodied voice sounded equally irritated by the farce you'd been forced to act out.

"Ah. Before you leave, that is mine."

You laughed. "Namjoon said the man who had this stole it from him. My guess is that neither of you are the rightful owner, but I'm going to give it to Namjoon regardless."

"Cmon, hand it over."

Whatever action the man made must have displeased you because the next thing Hoseok heard was the click of the hammer going into the ready position.

"Move," you ordered. Hoseok had never heard you sound like that. Cold. Even. No shake, no fear, no doubt. Only confidence and complete command. He would kill to see the look on Jin's face. "Over there." Quiet sounds of movement coming from both of you. "Now close the door behind me and have a lovely evening, sir," you said as politely as you could.

A few more seconds passed with only the scuff of your boots on the concrete, no longer making an attempt to move quietly, and then Hoseok's phone beeped when you hung up on him.

A moment later, the passenger door opened and you dropped into the seat beside him, slamming the door behind you. Then, for one long, heavy minute the two of you just stared at each other.

"Well?" You asked finally, loud and irritated. Hoseok just raised his eyebrows at you. "I got this ugly ass statue. Drive, pendejo."

Hoseok couldn't stop the grin that cracked across his face, a soft, amused sound that wasn't quite a laugh escaping him as he shifted gears.

Instead of getting back on Santa Monica he hopped on the I-10, heading for Koreatown while you stewed in your seat. You didn't let go of the statue the whole time he drove, just sat silently staring out the window. The twenty minutes of silence that passed wasn't awkward like it was before. You seemed to barely even notice he was there at all, even looking surprised when he brought the car to a complete stop in front of Club Seoul.

When you realized you had arrived at your destination, you unbuckled your seatbelt mechanically. Hoseok reached out and took hold of the statue, but your grip remained firm and you hit him with a glare so black and steady he instantly removed it. He half expected you to release one of your strings of Spanish curses at him, but your jaw remained hard set. He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to open the door. After depositing the park he'd given you, you did the same.

Hoseok led you into the club without so much as a glance at the bouncer. He skirted around the edges of the main room of the club, cutting a path through the aisle and avoiding the drunken bodies that pressed in on each other all around. The place was pretty crowded, especially for a Wednesday night, but Hoseok wasn't really the club type, maybe on a night with Seokjin and Namjoon in their private room, the loud music muffled and a couple bottles of soju. He typically only came here when he had to—which was still several times a week—and didn't stay longer than was necessary. Namjoon did most of his evening business here, keeping up the appearance of an involved club owner, as well as having fun on the night's he allowed himself to. It wasn't the only way Bangtan laundered money and put up an appearance of legitimacy, but it was Namjoon's favorite. He enjoyed the top shelf liquor and—unlike Hoseok—the girls who dressed themselves up for a bit of his attention. Most of all he loved being the king here, where others had to come and know they were on his turf. A little king of Koreatown.

At this time of the evening Hoseok expected him to still be in his office, attending to business matters, so that's where he led you. There was a small hallway in the back corner of the club where there are two black metal doors on adjacent walls. One said 'EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY,' the other 'STAFF ONLY,' and between them in the corner stood a tall, broad Korean man. He looked at Hoseok for a fraction of a second before his eyes looked down on you and then back down the hallway. Just like with the bouncer, not a word or signal passed between them. In this world, Hoseok is universally known, and no questions are ever asked, not to him. If he's asking questions to you, chances are you're already good and properly fucked. He pushed open the door and moved quickly up the stairs, trusting you to stay with him without ever glancing back. The thick door fell shut with a loud bang and blocked out most of the music from the other side. Through the other door at the top of the staircase there was another guard.

"Is the boss in?" Hoseok asked.

"Yes, sir," the man replied and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Namjoon's deep voice came from the other side.

Hoseok gripped the handle and went in ahead of you, but you burst into the office like a raging bull.

"Oh good, you-"

"Am I some kind of fucking joke to you?" You interrupted, seething with anger. "What kind of fake, bullshit mission was that? What's with the goddamn training wheels?"

Namjoon held out a hand in your direction, eyes anxiously following the movement of your arm as you waved his precious piece of art through the air. "Woah, Val, calm down. Lets-"

"Cálmale a tu puta madre, Kim. No me voy a calmar! What was the fucking point of that?" You half shouted at him.

Namjoon chuckled in spite of himself, his dimples showing as he looked down at his desk. It seemed your angry Spanish was amusing to all of them. He took a second to compose himself.

"The point was that I wanted that statue," he told you simply. "Can I have it, please?" He asked, still eyeing you warily.

"Want your pinche statue?" You growled and made a move like you were ready to smash it against his desk. He held out his hands, as if to save it from your wrath like one would a child. You pushed out a frustrated sigh and set the statue in the center of his desk with deliberate care. "Have your pinche statue," you grumbled. Namjoon smiled and picked up the trophy, moving it to a shelf safely out of your reach.

"Why did you send me on a fake mission?" You demanded again.

He came around the desk to sit on the edge in front of you. Once again, Hoseok stood between you and the door, but this time he felt considerably less threatening.

"It wasn't a fake mission," Namjoon shrugged.

"It wasn't a real one either. You lied to me. Why?"

"Why does it bother you?" He wanted to know, crossing his arms. Hoseok wondered why he looked so damn amused to be talking to you. He noticed the way his leader always looked at you like you were some kind of puzzle to solve, and he loved puzzles. With every look, Namjoon seemed like he was reassessing you, constantly adjusting the values of your strengths and weaknesses. That didn't go unnoticed by you either.

"It's a lack of respect for you to treat me like a child. You all treat me like I'm a little girl, and I'm not. I guarantee you I've seen things just as horrible as each of you, handled situations just as dangerous. Stolen things more valuable and harder to get than that hunk of clay. There isn't anything you can throw at me that I can't handle." Your voice was less passionate now, but just as firm, if not more steady.

Namjoon looked down at your feet for a moment. His jaw clenched, not out of anger, but the way it did when he was thinking, making a judgment. "You're right," he agreed. "But has it occurred to you that you shouldn't? That even if you've experienced such things in the past, some of us don't want you to experience them anymore?"

You looked at him with wide eyes, expression unreadable, but a little bit of shock mixed in somewhere.

"You don't-" you started, your voice shaky for the first time and you weren't exactly sure where you intended to go but it didn't matter because Namjoon cut you off.

"You asked us for our protection, and I promised you that. I wanted to know if you would do what I said and follow through. I wanted to know if you would be loyal to me, even over Seokjin. I wouldn't put you in harm's way just to prove that, and I have no intention of using you again to fulfill any desire of mine or this organization. That's why I sent you on this bullshit mission."

Namjoon's eyes lit up with a sincerity so warm and intense you actually took half a step back without even realizing it. You looked almost softened by his words, but you looked in Hoseok's direction and caught him watching you with the same intensity Namjoon did and you made yourself rigid again.

"Fine," you said, clipping the word. "Just don't underestimate me. Is there anything else?"

Namjoon gave you an easy smile. "No, you're both done for tonight. See you tomorrow," he dismissed you, walking back around his desk.

You walked toward Hoseok like you couldn't stand to be in this room a second longer, and when you walked past him through the door he opened for you he could've sworn he saw a touch of red on your good cheek. You stomped into the hallway and toward the door to the stairs, pulling it open without waiting for Hoseok or even caring if he was following you, but of course he did.

"Val," he called your name from the top of the stairs when you'd already reached the middle landing. You stopped and turned, but only your bright eyes acknowledged him. "Wanna get a drink?"

You hesitated, so he traipsed down the steps to meet you.

"Can't," you finally told him when he was standing right in front of you. "Taehyung is supposed to be here somewhere. He can't see us."

"There's a place across the street. It's quieter." He could see you hesitating, but for some reason he didn't want to let it go. "Just one drink. To celebrate your success."

You scoffed and turned to descend the rest of the stairs. "Sure, but you're buying. I spent all my money on a bus ticket to nowhere."

Hoseok didn't respond but hurried to catch up with you. Before you could take a left and go back through the main part of the club he tapped your shoulder and jerked his head toward the emergency exit, inviting you into the alley. He knew you were right, that Taehyung shouldn't see you, and you probably didn't want to see Taehyung dancing too close with some random girl.

You followed him across the street and up a little ways to a pretty grungy looking bar, the kind that only locals come to and where no amount of cleaning can make the bar top feel less tacky—not unlike your own bar, but this one had a distinctly Korean flavor. It was predictably less busy on a Wednesday night. Some local radio station was playing on the speakers. You and Hoseok sat at the bar and he ordered two Korean beers you didn't recognize the name of. You studied the label while the two of you sat in a silence that was anything but companionable.

Even without the language barrier, Hoseok was a quiet man, even around his closest friends—unless they were drinking, like you'd seen last night. It was never easy for him to make conversation or friends, and he'd had no intention of making either with you. Until ten minutes ago he was hoping that somehow your business with them would be done soon and you'd be out of his bosses house, never to be seen again. But something about the way you spoke to Namjoon in his office had changed his opinion of you. Your determination to achieve their respect and your fearlessness—and at some level he wouldn't admit, you acting a little crazy when you're mad turned him on a bit.

Several more minutes pass in which you both ignore each other. Hoseok got lost in his thoughts, trying to work out something to say. His English wasn't perfect. It was fine, he can be understood, but he never quite felt comfortable, even less able to make conversation in the foreign tongue than in his native one. But he brought you here and he knows he has to say something.

(For your part, you only spent the first couple of minutes wondering why he wasn't talking before you fell into your own inner web of thoughts. Worry about tonight's job and your outburst at Namjoon, trying not to dwell on the things he said to you and what they meant. He wanted you to experience a different way of life, for you to be protected. But that wasn't really up to him, was it? This was your life, and it was one of violence and exploitation. There were only a couple of ways that could end, honestly. And as much as you wanted to kill Joaquin with your own two hands, you knew the reverse was more than twice as likely.)

When he finally gathered the courage to look at you it was clear you were just as lost to your thoughts as he was. The hard set of your jaw had returned, your lips pouted slightly in deep thought as your eyes fixated on the edges of the label on the beer bottle that your fingers were tearing to pieces. A small pile was beginning to form on the bar. Whatever you were thinking about was making you anxious, so he spoke up.

"Where were you going?" Hoseok's rough voice broke into your consciousness.

You turned to him slowly. "Huh?"

"Your bus ticket. Where were you going?"

"Oh. Phoenix."

"Why?"

You shrugged as your fingers continued to shred the damp label. "Because it was leaving next, and as far as my money could take me and still be able to eat dinner."

"Oh, then you could have bought the beers," he smirked. You did him the favor of huffing a small laugh through your nose, shaking your head minimally.

"Why did you want to leave?" Hoseok asked and you gave him a look like he was crazy. You'd thought you'd made that perfectly clear. "I mean, why now? When you had Taehyung? Why not ask him first for protection?"

You sighed heavily. "Why is everyone acting like Taehyung has the ability to solve my problems? If you think that, then you don't know enough about–" you stopped short, and by the way you swallowed the lump in your throat Hoseok guessed you were avoiding saying Moreno's name.

"But Taehyung loves you. He would've tried anything."

You scoff at that again. "Taehyung loved the person I made him believe I was. But I was faking it the whole time." Hoseok couldn't hide the look of disgust on his face at that, so you hurried on. "Not about my feelings for him–not exactly. More like, we fell in love like we were in some awfully cliche teen romance. I don't know. He was beautiful and so I pretended to be the kind of naive girl who a boy like that could fall for. And he pretended to be someone who wasn't dangerous. It was nice while it lasted, but it ended and in reality we could never fall in love."

You spoke with such certainty. Hoseok wasn't a sentimental guy, but even logically he couldn't seem to make sense of it. "But it seems like you'd be even better together now. A perfect match."

You blinked at him, as if he were missing something horribly obvious. "But Taehyung actually believes there's love out there. And maybe there is, but it's not with me."

"No?"

"No. There's no love for people who have been through what I've been through. Love was destroyed along with everything else." Your eyes fixed on the bottle in your hands again. It was empty and you scratched at the remnants of paper where it hung on to the glue.

"You feel like shots?" Hoseok asked, waving down the bartender.

Hoseok knew exactly how you felt. He didn't know all that you went through, but he'd had most of himself destroyed at a young age too. He had been nearly hollow when Seokjin found him, a young man of sixteen who had never been treated like more than the dirt under someone's shoe. He didn't believe that love was some kind of all-conquering magic that could fix a person's life. It was Bangtan, not love, that made Hoseok someone important and respected, with a place and a purpose. But Seokjin had taught him that he was someone who could be loved, in the strange and complicated way that took shape for them. The question of worthiness was one Hoseok didn't dare to examine, but he knew that he was loved. He would always remember what it was like to feel like you did though.

"Absolutely."

"You like soju?" The bartender heard Hoseok's question and turned to grab the man's favorite bottle.

"I don't know, but I'm not picky," you told him, watching as the man poured out four shots—because Hoseok never just took one.

Hoseok picked up the first shot glass with his long, slender fingers and held it toward you. "Whoever made you believe you're unlovable can go fuck themselves," he told you before you took it from him, smiling for the first time since you left the house tonight. You looked at him dubiously but took the shot when he gestured for you to do so, taking his when yours was done.

He thought he saw an argument forming on your lips but you bit it back. After a moment you gave him a question instead.

"Who made you think you were unlovable?" You took the liberty of grabbing the next shot for yourself, but he didn't mind.

Hoseok took his second shot too. He gestured to the bartender and filled his air with lungs before he turned his body toward you, resting his elbows against the back of the high bar chair and the edge of the bar.

"Have you ever been to a brothel, Val?"

Perhaps the alcohol was getting to him. Perhaps he thought it was only fair that you knew some of the darkness of his past as he knew yours. Your lips pull back with a huff of air, almost a laugh but not really. You tilt your head to look at him slanted.

"Not fit for it. So I was spared that."

He couldn't guess how sometimes you wished you had been, that the impersonal abuse of forced prostitution might destroy you less than the intensely personal torture you endured. There's no point in comparing abuse and trauma any more than the weight of one human soul against another.

"Yeah, I wish I could say the same," he muttered gruffly. Your eyes widened at him. "Oh, no, not like that. I- I was born into a brothel. And if there's anything no one wants in a brothel it's a child, particularly a boy one. And if a child is unwelcome then an adolescent is strictly forbidden. Once I was too big to be shoved into a corner and hidden away, I had to go."

Hoseok watched your wheels turn, watched you try to tell yourself the story before he could, to see where this was headed, but he stopped you.

"This wasn't Bangtan. Not even the international organization. This was in Seoul, a prominent gang there, but not as powerful as ours is now. Bangtan strictly does not operate in prostitution or anything that involves buying humans. I can promise you that. We may steal anything that's not nailed down and bring tools for the things that are. We might even sell some drugs that have the potential to ruin lives, but we don't buy and sell humans. I promise you that," Hoseok repeated, feeling like he needed to make that crystal clear to you. It might be the only halfway decent thing about them, but at least they had that. You swallowed and nodded your understanding so he could go on.

"For years I bounced from home to home, from one hateful place to another. Never caused anything but trouble and received my fair share of beatings before I was onto the next. By the time I was fourteen, I was selling for the same gang, trying to scrape together the money to buy my mom's freedom, so we could finally be together. I didn't know how stupid or impossible that was then. She didn't want to be with me and even if she did they wouldn't have let her go.

"So I was in a heated argument with her pimp one night, and things got physical, both of us throwing punches until I pushed him into a brick wall and he hit his head, fell over, bleeding everywhere. I was freaked out. I'd never killed anyone back then, and it was really an accident. I had no idea that Seokjin was there, watching us from across the street. At first I thought he was from the same gang, one of the sons of the higher ups. He took me away. I thought he was going to kill me or at least punish me. But he got me away and drove me to a different part of the city. Said he was a member of Bangtan and if I joined them he would protect me from any retaliation by the other gang. So of course I did. He kept me by his side as his personal bodyguard and a year later he brought me here."

You pursed your lips, trying to understand why he was telling you this.

He continued as if he could read your mind. "My point is, everyone in Bangtan has scars, even the ones who seem perfect. And they don't care. Seokjin has never judged me for mine. He loves me regardless."

You shook your head at him. "My scars aren't like yours, Hoseok."

"It's just skin." He shrugged, using the same phrase that Taehyung had the first time you slept together.

"You don't get it. Every scar I have was meant to be hated, meant to show anyone who saw them who gave them to me…who I belong to. To make sure I am someone who will never be loved."

Hoseok frowned. "They won't see it that way." If Namjoon saw the cracks in your makeup and found them beautiful, Hoseok could see it too. But deep down he wanted to find all of your broken spots and kiss them back together, because no one as strong and brave as you, who had survived all that you had, should be allowed to feel weak or vulnerable.

"They?" You questioned, blinking at him.

Hoseok's ears went red and he reached for another shot glass. You weren't quite ready to believe that one man loved you. He shouldn't scare you by telling you just how many men in Bangtan you had under your spell.

"Tell me about your fighting days," he smiled before he tossed back another shot.

And you actually smiled back."I know you all don't believe me, but I was really fucking good," you grinned. "When I turned eighteen, Joaquin almost got me into a female MMA league. That's why he got me the fake tits. Said I needed to be camera ready," you laughed as you took a drink, the alcohol starting to affect you.

"Taehyung always wondered about that. He thought maybe you did porn." Hoseok must have been feeling it too because he couldn't take his eyes off then.

You sputtered. "Don't stare at them, sucio!"

Hoseok turned red and laughed. You continued to to drink together and tell him stories of fights you had been in. After a while, Hoseok could see your head begin to swim, your eyes getting glassy and drooping, your movements just a little too fluid and words slurred. He didn't think you'd had that much to drink, but everyone is different and maybe you'd already hit your limit.

"You ready to go home?" He asked gently, and you nodded. "I'll go to the restroom and we can leave." He stood and drained his glass before setting it down clumsily and walking heavily to the bathroom. Maybe he'd had more than he thought, too. The bathroom door seemed to resist more than usual when he pushed it. His limbs felt so heavy as he went to the urinal to relieve himself. Maybe I'll take her back to the club and have someone take us home. Mm call Seokjin, he thought hazily.

It almost seemed like the bar room got darker when he emerged after washing his hands, maybe his eyes were just heavier. His face contorted in confusion when he got to the bar but you weren't there. He looked at the door just in time to see you going through it with two larger men. But it didn't look as if you were doing much of the walking when he noticed their hands around your arms and the lazy tilt of your head.

Hoseok's reflexes failed him and he began to think perhaps the two of you weren't just drinking alcohol tonight. He looked for the bartender, but he was nowhere in sight. There wasn't any time to look for him now, not when you'd just been taken.

Stumbling out of the bar, Hoseok looked up and down the sidewalk, but he saw no sign of you or the men who had dragged you out. No suspicious cars. Only a steady flow of traffic both ways.

Fuck.

Hoseok walked across the street as fast as his lethargic limbs would take him up to the door of Club Seoul. As two giggling girls stumbled out of the club, he pushed his way in. The crowd had thinned and one of the bouncers was standing near the door, leaning lazily against the wall. He caught Hoseok by the elbow when he nearly crashed into the man.

"Namjoon?" Hoseok asked hoarsely.

"He's up in his private room, Mr. Jung." Hoseok ignored the man's offers to help as he pushed himself toward the stairs and up to the second floor. When Hoseok pushed the door open without knocking Taehyung was with him, one girl to his left and another on his lap. Namjoon sat on another one of the plush couches in the red-walled room, Jungkook at his side with his hand on his thigh, having a quiet conversation.

Hoseok fell to his knees in front of them, the five other people in the room looking on in amused surprise, smiles lubricated with alcohol.

"It's my fault," Hoseok cried to the floor as he bowed his head to the carpet.

Namjoon stiffened, fingers clenching around Jungkook's leg. "What happened?"

Hoseok didn't lift his face from the ground. "They took her. Val is gone."

The three other men stood quickly, the girl in Taehyung's lap falling onto the other one with an indignant cry.

"What do you mean, Val is gone?" Taehyung demanded.

"We were at Dae's and we were drinking. They must have slipped us something. We were going to go home. But when I came back from the bathroom they were taking her away and when I got outside they were gone," Hoseok explained breathlessly.

"Where would they take her?"

"Malibu," Jungkook answered miserably. "There's no way we'll catch up to them now, and we can't get to his house."

"She's on her own," Namjoon whispered.

"Like hell she is. We've gotta do something!" Taehyung's rage rolled off him in waves and the two girls he'd already forgotten about clung to each other as they shared confused, bordering on frightened, looks.

"Jungkook is right. We need to go back home and regroup. Maybe Jimin will-"

"Hyung-" Tae whined angrily.

"I promised to protect her, Taehyung, and I will do my best. Right now we have to go." Namjoon walked forward to Hoseok and raised him up by his arms. "We'll get her back. It's not your fault."

Taehyung's eyes didn't seem to agree with his boss's words but he followed the other three out of the small room when Jungkook took on Hoseok's weight to help him out of the club.

"Yoongi's gonna fuckin kill you, hyung," Jungkook mumbled to him a they left.

<-previous | master list | next->

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Fighter taglist: @valhallawhispers @ot7nem @welconme-notreally @leowiebi @caffeineandreveries @so-da-1 @exochanyeoltao @antichrist-zaddyy @bids97 @pamzn @candied-lavender @jnghs @devilsbooksworld @canarystwin @forvever-ddaeng @ygbubs @rinkud @mixedandfurious @magnificentjudgemoneyhands @knjsbae @xmochiloverx @luciferslvst @juju-227592 @elegantcashplaidbasketball

My apologies for people I wasn’t able to tag!!

#beastie 🐾#bts mafia au #bts fanfic #bts series #bts ot7 #namjoon x yn #seokjin x y/n #yoongi x y/n #hoseok x y/n #jimin x yn #taehyung x y/n #jungkook x y/n #reader is poc #bts hurt/comfort #bts angst #Fighter

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shoujoboy-restart · 16 days

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By Mary Harrington, May 6 2024.

[...] Canadian Right-wing firebrand Lauren Southern, whose early video content regularly challenged liberal feminist orthodoxy, and promoted domesticity. Our stories are symmetrical in some respects: both of us embraced radical politics in our early twenties, me on the Left and Southern on the Right. Both of us embraced ideologies that felt inspiring in the free-floating world of the internet. And both of us, albeit in different ways, have course-corrected back toward reality in part via the fiercely practical experience of caring for a child.

Southern has attracted vitriolic criticism from the Right, for speaking openly about how “tradlife” went wrong for her. She, however, sees speaking out not as betrayal of her own “side”, but as continuous with her earlier willingness to challenge progressive consensus on topics such as immigration. “I’m not worried about saying the things I’m saying right now, that are getting me so attacked online. Because I’ve dealt with this, with South Africa. I’ve dealt with this with mass immigration, I’ve dealt with this with my critiques of feminism. And every single one turned out: oh, maybe she was onto something.”("sure I was wrong about trad life, but my racism is still right you will see")

For, she tells me, she’s not alone. She tells me she knows many other women still suffering in unhappy “tradlife” marriages. One of her WhatsApp groups, she says, “is like the Underground Railroad for women in the conservative movement”. Some of these are prominent media figures: “There are a lot of influencers who are not in good relationships, who are still portraying happy marriage publicly, and bashing people for not being married while being in horrendous relationships.” She hopes that in speaking out she can reassure “all of these women who are thinking in their heads: I’m uniquely terrible, and I’m uniquely making a mistake” that no: something is more generally amiss.

There were warning signs from early on. “If I ever disagreed with him in any capacity he’d just disappear, for days at a time. I remember there were nights where he’d call me worthless and pathetic, then get in this car and leave.” But she didn’t see them, thanks to the simplified anti-feminist ideology she’d absorbed and promoted: “I had this delusional view of relationships: that only women could be the ones that make or break them, and men can do no wrong.” So she didn’t spot the red flags, even as they grew more extreme. “He’d lock me out of the house. I remember having to knock on the neighbour’s door on rainy nights, because he’d get upset and drive off without unlocking the house. It was very strange, to go from being this public figure on stage with people clapping, to the girl crying, knocking on someone’s door with no home to get into, being abandoned with a baby.”

But as she tells it, the nightmare began in earnest when he was offered a work opportunity in his home country of Australia, a few weeks after the birth of their baby. She did not want to leave her support networks behind. But he used the political and religious importance she placed on lifelong marriage as a lever to force her to agree: “Whenever I wouldn’t do something, he would say: I’m going to divorce you.” So, feeling she had no other option, she assented.

He also insisted she should publicly quit work. His work required a high level of government security clearance; she was a Right-wing provocateur who had faced deplatforming, state investigations, and was even banned from entering the UK. In their early, giddy romance this had felt manageable. But “when we moved back to Australia, he really wanted to get back into his old work”. And Southern was a “hardcore liability”, so the pressure was on: “It was like: Lauren, you gotta hire lawyers. You’ve got to disavow everything. You’ve got to never talk publicly again.”

So, in 2019, she announced that she was leaving media and activism altogether. As Southern tells it, she was trying sincerely to put into practice the ideology she’d promoted in her videos. “I believed I had a certain role in my relationship,” she told me. “And it was to be the more submissive one that supports my husband’s dreams.”("if I don't give up of my constitutional rights, which I keep claiming the left.wanta to take away, my husband will be so sad tho" like damn ma' you

“I was told daily that I was worthless, pathetic. Deadweight.”

Then, thousands of miles from friends and family, she reports becoming “the closest thing to a modern day, Western slave”. With no income of her own, she had to do everything: “The lawns, the house, the cooking, the baby care, his university homework. And I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t have any support. There was no help changing diapers, there was no help waking up in the night with the baby. I’d still have to get up, to make breakfast before work. I’d be shaking and nervous, for fear I’m gonna get yelled at.” Then he’d berate her for spending all her time on tasks other than earning money: “I was told daily that I was worthless, pathetic. Deadweight. All you do is sit around and take care of the baby and do chores.” When Covid shut down all real-world public life, her situation became “hell on earth”. It was, she said, “the only time in my life where I idealised dying.”

“He was so much kinder, sweeter and more pursuant of me when I was this ‘boss babe’ travelling the world working. It seemed like becoming a mother made him lose respect for me. It was shocking to me, again, because the traditional view preached the opposite — that men love you more when you stop working and become a wife and mother.” In her experience, though, this was “very much not the case”.

Talk about imperfect victim, right?

Lauren should be criticized and reprimanded for her racism, bigotry and general alt-right fuckery. But obviously no one deserves to suffer domestic violence and abuse from their partners, I hope she fully wakes up and realises part of the reason she even got herself in a lifestyle that is a catalyst for abuse is because part of her mindset was the need for a "strong (white) man to care for her and protect her (from them immigrants)" she was also sold while fear mongering immigration.

Again, she should be criticized and reprimanded for her divisive ideology, not mocked for thinking she would be a exception to the actual reality of trad life.

I'm hoping she never has to experience this sort of abuse ever again in her life no matter what, hoping she also becomes a better person and leaves behind these regressive bigoted ideals of her too.

#discourse #politics #anti alt-right #domestic violence #trad domestic violence #trad life #tradwife #trad life is a catalyst for abuse #racism #conservative racism #right wing racism #lauren southern

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writteninthesewalls28 · 4 months

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Love at first sight

A prequel to "Love forever and always"

A/n: This work is part of the "be my valentine challenge" by @bemyvalentinechallenge for the day 7 prompt.

Summary: Charlie is Taylor’s best friend. Her friend set her up to a date with Niall Horan, but she’s a little too nervous…

Warnings: not proof read, curse words

I sat in the little, cosy café in central London and waited for him to turn up.

Was this a bad idea?

Yes.

But, to my defence, it hadn´t even been my idea. My friend Taylor had the GREAT idea to introduce me to my all-time celebrity crush Niall Horan (yes, I am one of the directioners, try and change it) during the Grammy´s after party that Taylor previously had invited me to since she needed someone to come with her.

Well- what should I say? Her plan worked, luckily. We had the most awkward chat you can ever imagine (that´s at least my point of view, he said, it was the most interesting chat he ever had with someone during an after party, probably wasn´t such a high compliment though) and at the end, I held a little piece of paper with HIS telephone number in my hand.

Taylor went crazy about it. Of course she did, she always does as soon as something rather interesting happens in my life.

Fast forward, he invited me.

Today.

To this café.

And I never had been more nervous before.

I had a date.

And just deseperately hoped, my favorite skirt in college style and the oversized shirt were at least a little bit appropriet for this type of date.

But before my mind could think of any other problem, he walked through the door. And god, he looked good. The blue-yellow baseball jacket combined with the jeans looked perfect. Because he was perfect.

"Hey, you´re early!" he said when he approached me. "Good to see you again you look as beautiful as always." Niall added and had a soft smile on his face. I turned bright red and quickly said the same thing.

That´s what I hated most about first dates. The awkward small talk at the beginning. Literally the worst thing about getting to know someone. But surprisingly, it wasn´t even that awkward with him.

We talked about (his) music and (my hopefully soon own) books. But soon, both of us, as shy as we were, didn´t knew what else to say to the attractive person in front of us. I read so many articles about how it is totally not strange to just sit and not talk as soon as it´s with people you know for quite a long time, but honestly? I had to disagree with all of them. It just needed the right person, and it seemed like Niall was that person.

I think both of us felt completely comfortable not to say anything and to slowly drink the coffee both of us ordered.

---------------------------------------------

"TELL ME EVERYTHING" Taylor screamed in the phone.

What´s the first thing you do when you come home from a date that your friend basically set you up to? Call that friend, correct.

So, that´s obviously what I did, and as you can see, she was even more excited than I was to tell her how it went.

"Okay, okay. Chill!" I firstly said and recieved a quiet laugh from her. "It was… really great."

"WHAT DID YOU TALK ABOUT?" taylor and me both were rather out-going and extroverted, we both talked A LOT. So it was hard to explain to her that we basically talked about- well, nothing.

"Well… he told me a lot about his new album that he just released… I talked about my ideas for a book… that was it." As soon as I finished that sentence, I could practically see Taylor through the phone, how she´s sitting there in complete disbelief.

"You were gone for over 4 hours and didn’t talk?!" She was out of her mind and was gasping like she never did before. "You sure it went good?"

I smiled to myself. "What if I tell you I never had a better first date before?" More gasping from Taylor "You have no idea how great it is to just sit there and not have to talk."

And that was the truth. I felt so goddamn comfortable around this man, I couldn´t even believe it myself.

I wanted nothing more but see him again. I have no idea where this is going to end, but we´re off to a great start, aren´t we?

#bemyvalentine2024 #bemyvalentineno7 #quote #reader x niall horan #orginal character #tw curse words #not proofread #maddys fanfic #maddys writing

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adhd-mode-activate · 1 year

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I pray that all of y'all are able to experience the gift that is teachable parents.

I grew up in a conversative Christian family (in my immediate family, I mean conversative in the religious sense. In my extended family, there are political conversative, but my parents strongly disagree with them). For years what I knew of the LGBTQ community was my aunt and her wife (who are quite frankly awful people; smol me assumed any gay person I met would hate me because I was a Christian) and what I googled at 2 AM

I didn't realize I was demi until I was 18 and went on a deep dive research hole in my dorm. I was scared to say anything to anyone. I assumed I'd be an outcast in the culture I grew up in, but I also didn't think anyone else would accept me.

I don't really know how it happened, but four years later I've got some of the coolest friends ever. One of my best friends thinks I'm crazy for the labels I collect like the human personification of a crow (which is where one of my nicknames comes from), but she loves me anyway. The other thinks I'm crazy for my faith, but she doesn't hate me for it. Instead, she asks me questions that I love to answer. I'm a demiromantic/biromantic asexual who's 90% sure that she's a girl about...60% of the time (gender is confusing, y'all), and I'm comfortable with that

And my parents? Well, it took three attempts at describing demisexuality to my mom for her to "get" it. She didn't understand how it was different from "normal" (mom, I've heard you talk about how you fell in love with my dad, and the one other person you dated before that, and how you couldn't imagine dating someone you weren't friends with first. There might be a reason you thought being demi was normal). But the thing is? After initially saying that she didn't understand, she was the one to come back and say "I've been thinking about it, and I realized I didn't handle that well. Could you explain again?" It took a while for me to come out to my parents. Little by little, testing the waters because of my irrational fears of disappointing them. They're not disappointed. My mom doesn't agree with me on everything, but she trusts me. If she has a question about anything related to attraction or gender identity or mental health, she asks me, because she trusts that even if we end up disagreeing, she'll learn something. My dad is a man of few words, but he will not hesitate to call out what he thinks is wrong. So the fact that he listens when I pace the room, verbally tearing apart an argument against trans rights, means a lot. Not only does he listen, he helps me strengthen my arguments. Any time I find a new fight, he gives me the resources and the weapons to wield it. He's a historian and a good one. When I am grieved and angry and bitter at the wrongs I see hidden behind the name of Christianity, he shows me history and where it's happened before and how it was righted. And then tells me to go. Keep making friends, keep putting my anger to good use, keep loving as deeply as I do. because if no one is angered by injustices they are never righted

My parents are still conversative Christians. They understand that I make decisions they never could. They know I will challenge them on things they never would have thought about, go places they never could, interact with people they never will interact with. But they're willing to learn from me. They're willing to trust me, willing to disagree with me without breaking the relationship. They're willing to be a safe space for any friend who is not safe in their own home for whatever reason. I pray that all of y'all will have parents like that, who even if they don't agree with you on everything, trust you (which I think is a healthy thing, each generation should grow and learn from the previous one and be willing to challenge things their predecessors wouldn't without losing the good already done)

And, if you don't think that's possible, you can have mine. Considering the fact that my mom was giddy when I told her I'd adopted a couple of my younger friends, and nearly cried with happiness when I told her that of course they could be her grandkids, she'll love you. My dad will be glad to show you one of his special interests (history, theology, cooking, or the potato cannon he and my brother built out of PVC pipe in the back yard are good starts if you're curious what special interests he might have). My mom will lavish you with all the affection you could ever want and then some. My dad will make you laugh when your emotions threaten to drown you.

If you don't have a home, I offer mine. Welcome home.

#okie sorry for the long post I'm gonna go listen to Epic on repeat now #I hope y'all like pet fish because when I have a proper house I'm going to have fish tanks for bettas *everywhere*#and plants!#and I'm learning how to cook so just tell me your favorite food #I started writing this with the idea of talking about how my parents are pretty cool people #especially with how insane I am #(though let's not lie they're also insane)#but it turned into a “come home” kind of thing and I'm fine with that #but anyway #just needed to say some Things #<3 I love all of you

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velvett-tearss · 3 years

Text

Black Tea & Blushes — L. Ackerman

summary: The two of you never got along, but there were times that even fire and ice made a perfect pair.

warnings: cursing, no spoilers for anything past early s1, Levi’s a little shit at first (surprise, surprise), mentions of blood (they’re fighting titans :-) lol) gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

genre: semi-canonverse, fluff, enemies to lovers (?)

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this was very self-indulgent lmao, sorry if it’s a bit messy 😭, <Hange, Connie & Sasha3 make an appearance bc I love them and you should too, hope you enjoy it <3

"Couldn't you have gotten a cadet to do this?"

You raised a sharp brow at the man, trying to keep yourself from flipping his desk over. "Would you have yelled at them like you just yelled at me?"

The man's grey eyes didn’t meet yours, but there was a scowl on his face. Despite his steely eyes, he didn't say anything back. Instead, he pursed his lips and turned back to continue his paperwork.

You huffed in an attempt to ground yourself after being yelled at for the past two minutes. You took a sip from your own cup of the tea you had prepared for him, letting yourself savor the taste.

"I don't understand." you said, tasting the earthy, black tea. "You said it was too cold last time, so I made sure it was extra warm. What's wrong with it? Is it too sour for you? I only added a few drops of lemon this time."

Levi remained silent, but you stood your ground, tapping your boot against the pavemented floor as you waited at his desk for an answer. You wouldn't let him win, not this time. Day after day, it seemed like he only grew ruder and ruder.

Your dislike for Levi Ackerman started the day you met him. He was still just a soldier when you joined the Survey Corp, and it wasn't long after that he become Captain.

He was mean, and he never seemed to care about anything, but God forbid you make a reckless move out in the field. It was as if all hell broke loose if you used a bit too much gas when slicing the nape of a Titan's neck.

"Not everyone is Humanity's Strongest." you had spat at him when he scolded you on the way back to the walls. That only earned you a glare, seeing as Hange managed to secure your safety. If it weren't for them, you were certain you would've gotten stuck with stable duty for a month's end.

You were glad he was nice to them, at least.

At some point, you got promoted to Captain as well. One would think that since you shared the same rank, he would grow warmer to you, but that was another one of your mistakes.

Everything about him rubbed you the wrong way, from his disagreeable manners to his awful way of speaking to soldiers. And, it was your disdain for him that got you stuck in this mess.

"A cadet could've done this." Levi stated again; you felt like you were being patronized. He raised a brow at you, holding the teacup in his hand. "A cadet could’ve made better tea than you.”

"Obviously not, Captain." you threw back sourly, snatching the cup from his hand. "A cadet could not have done this because if I hadn't interfered two weeks ago, who knows what you would've done to the poor man. And, all he did was make your tea wrong!”

Levi blinked at you, appearing bored with your conversation. "If you hadn't interfered, that soldier would be back with those good for nothing Military Police Officers doing what they're best at."

You gritted your teeth. "And, what are they good for, Captain Ackerman?”

His brow twitched slightly. “Absolutely nothing."

You let out a bitter laugh, placing the white ceramic teacups back on the tray you had brought in. "Now that you say it out loud, that reminds me a lot of someone I know."

"What an awful way to talk about yourself.” Levi threw back with ease.

The urge to roll your eyes at him was weighing on you, but you were stronger than the immaturity he seemed to bring out in you. "Captain, you must be growing old if you've already forgotten we're the same rank."

Your decision of keeping yourself calm in his presence payed to be of use when you noticed the slight pause in his pen strokes at your words.

But, you were well aware of how trustworthy Levi was in the sense that you knew he could always come back with something even worse than what he's told you before.

"If you were of any use, you would know what's wrong with your tea. I'm sure even King Fritz could tell good tea from awful tea, and he's the most useless of them all." Levi told you, pen moving over the papers in front of him swiftly.

"He could probably also tell a grown man from a spoiled brat," you told him, taking the tray with you as you left his office. "But, you make even that task seem impossible."

You had to stop the triumphant grin from growing on your face when you heard his faint scoff from the other side of the wooden door.

Even if you managed to snag the last word of that argument, it didn’t feel as good as it usually did. The only reason you involved yourself in Levi Ackerman’s nightly tea was because 1) you didn’t like the way he spoke to the poor soldier who got stuck with job of handling it, and 2) Erwin asked that you try and be a bit nicer to your fellow captain.

You only did it to keep your job, really, and you would never let your Commander think less of you, even if he did favor Levi. Even Hange had tried to coax you into not letting The Ackerman’s sharp tongue get to you, but that didn’t seem to work.

Levi and you would never be friends, if that’s what Erwin meant when he pulled you aside at supper a few nights before. It was a lie to say you didn’t admire the man’s impressive skills, because you did.

But, admiration and respect were two separate things.

The two of you were jagged edges of broken glass that didn’t fit together, and that was perfectly fine. You didn’t mind being Levi being a sharp piece of glass, just as long as he kept his corners to himself and far from you.

Erwin, as observant as usual, caught on to the solution to your problem, and he even made sure you and Levi would rarely ever cross paths when the Scouts were out on an expedition. The two of you worked on opposite sides of the formation.

The only time you would ever work together would be if there were no other options, but both of you were reliable in your own senses: him with his... whatever he called it, and you with your wits.

You didn't mind being farthest from him, and if it were up to you, you'd go even farther.

“Hey, you got new glasses.” you stated, noticing the new pair of brown frames that Hange wore the morning as the Scouts waited for the signal to begin the expedition.

“Oh, don’t remind me.” they said with a frown, holding the glasses in their hands. “Last night, Moblit and I were doing some research, and someone must’ve stolen my glasses because I couldn’t find them this morning.”

“Stole? Isn’t that a big accusation?”

They let out a hearty laugh. “It is! That’s why I’m saying it!” Hange replied, golden eyes widened at you in exasperation. “I’ve been stuck with these, and they’re too big for my face. All they do is fall off.”

“So maybe don’t wear them?” you wondered as you caught a glimpse of the dark head of hair you knew too well. “What’ll you do if you lose them out in the field? Better safe than sorry.”

“I wish, but I’m as blind as a bat without them.” Hange reasoned with a sigh before quickly composing themselves. “But, now that you mention it, I never did mind a challenge.”

The smirk growing on their face was one you didn’t quite like. Before you could talk some sense into them (if that were even possible) the signal went off to begin the mission.

They gave a wide smile and a thumbs up as a good luck token. "Don’t do anything crazy!” you called out when the two of you parted ways, taking your squad with you. “I mean it, Hange!”

Hange waved you off, charging in faster in their horse. It was up to poor Moblit to chase right after them.

Your squad remained close together for the majority of the mission. There wasn't much to do on your end of things, which was a relief. At some point, you decided to stop for a quick break before pushing forward.

If you were able to see five mintues into the future, you would never have let your squad talk you into taking a lunch break. Just as you were relaxing a bit, there was an Abnormal coming from the thick trees.

Your sense of smell wasn't as skilled as Miche, and if it weren't for one of the younger cadets on your squad who had a keen sense of hearing, you all would've been Titan food.

It didn't take long for you to spring into action, your squad following suit. You made sure to use the plans Erwin had issued out on previous Scout meetings.

When the Abnormal finally made it to where you and your squad stopped, the beastly creature managed to catch one of your soldiers in midair. As the young boy was raised in the air, his stomach couldn't contain his recent lunch.

Gravity works in wonders, you thought when his earlier lunch fell onto you with a splat! You couldn't blame the poor boy; it was better upstairs than downstairs. As terrible a feeling it was to have chunky vomit all over you, you knew it would be as even worse feeling if the boy died under your care.

Your squad got to him before any damage was permanent, at least physically. When the killing blow was done, you tended to your soldier. He muttered out apologies for having thrown up on you, but you were merely in the line of fire.

"It's okay, Connie." you reassured him after pulling off your green cape that had been soiled in aid to shield you. “I’d rather it be your lunch on me than your organs.”

You ordered that he ride with your other cadet, Sasha. He let out a pained laugh at your words, leaning against her on her horse. She scolded him for “wasting so much food,” to which lead to their silly banter, which you didn’t mind as long as they were safe.

As unfortunate as it was, that incident wasn't the last of it. There wasn't much time between Connie getting his ribs crushed by a Titan and the numerous amount of red flares that were being shot into the air. The amount of red powder in the sky was enough to cast a shadow of worry over you.

By the time your squad made it to where the red flares had been signaled, it was a mess. Abnormal and Pure Titans were ambushing the rest of whatever was left of the Survey Corp. Your squad wasted no time in following your orders as you made a beeline for the trees where a group of Abnormals were huddled together.

When you finally got a good look at the scene in the forest, your sight was met with Titan smoke and blood of fallen comrades. It was a disaster, as it always was. But you knew, where there was smoke, there was definitely fire.

And, that fire was Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

He looked ablaze, nothing but a flash in the distance. Slicing Titan limbs as if they were merely flowers in his way, Levi Ackerman was kicking ass. It was in moments like this — where he looked like the answer to all the prayers of the people inside the walls — that you wondered if you truly hated him all along.

“Section Commander!” Moblit cried, chasing after Hange as they swung on the highest tree of the forest. It seemed as though they forgot all about how loose their glasses were as they did a number of twirls in the air. His voice was enough to snap you out of your trance and assist your fellow comrades.

You managed to fight off three Pure Titans and two Abnormals for what seemed like forever. It might’ve been even worse if not for Connie Springer’s lunch all over you that acted as Titan Repellant.

Perhaps you would tell Hange of your new discovery, but every time you managed to get close to them while fighting off the Titans, all they did was badger you with questions upon questions.

“Are you sure you haven’t you seen them?!” Hange cried for the fifth time, eyes squinted at you from their branch opposite you. Moblit was fighting off a creepy Abnormal with ugly teeth a few feet from you.

“No, I haven’t! And, didn’t I tell you your glasses would fall if you took them with you?!” you shouted back from your place on the tree before taking a breath to try to slice the neck of your second Pure Titan. “Go back to the wagon, Hange, before you get yourself killed!”

They huffed and puffed, but they let Moblit guide them to the wagon to wait until the rest of the Scouts could find a moment to retreat back to the walls.

After finally slicing the nape of your final Titan, you looked over to where you had last seen Levi. Only, he was nowhere to be found. A panic set in when you couldn’t find any sight of him.

“Captain?” you called out from your place on a tree branch where you were catching your breath. You squinted your eyes to get a farther look, but it didn’t help that much. “Captain Ackerman, are you there? Do you—”

But, that’s when you felt a jostle of wind hit your back. You turned quickly to see the dark-haired man swinging through the trees, holding an unconscious Oluo.

You followed him, figuring if you took his squad member off his hands that Levi would have a better chance of taking down more Titans. Maybe even with a man who weighed far more than himself in his hands, Levi could still have a better chance than you.

“Captain, I’ve got him. I’ll take—”

But, Levi wouldn’t budge. It was like he wasn’t listening to you, and you didn’t know if it was by choice or coincidence. You huffed and rushed quicker to help him in carrying Oluo.

Maybe it was just your luck, or maybe it was just his, but right before you managed to reach him, a Titan’s jaw came from below him, wide and ready for lunchtime.

There was nothing for him to do, not with his hands full. Surely he knew that from the way his grey eyes finally broke through from that awful void he’d placed you in, the one where all you ever got from him was scoldings and insults and cold stares that often made you wonder if he actually did hate you.

And, for the first time, you saw panic flash through his grey eyes, his life flash before his eyes.

“Levi!” you cried, using the rest of your ODM gear’s gas to catch up to him. You knew if he were to survive such an event, he would scold you for wasting your gas on an old lump like him.

But, for once, Levi had something to say about you that didn’t regard your incompetence to make decent tea or your recklessness that spurred you to use all your gas just to save him and the bullheaded, baboon by the name of Oluo.

It was your astonishing speed.

You got to the two men right before the great wide jaws of the Titan could snap closed and swallow the three of you for its meal, which Levi had to admit (but probably never would) was quite impressive.

“Shit!” you hissed out when the three of you landed on another tree branch. As quick as you got to the branch was as quick as Miche was to come and ensure your safety, slicing the Titan’s nape with ease.

Oluo was still unconscious and a little bloodied up and battered, but he was safe.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Levi yelled, voice slightly hoarse from everything that had just happened. His hair was a mess, and you held back a laugh at the sight of him. “Why— why would you? I mean, what— and, why do you smell like—”

“A thank you is perfectly fine, Ackerman.” you coughed out, catching your breath from the overexertion you just forced yourself through. Carrying two grown men was tough, especially when it was between life or death. “As for the smell, one of my soldiers threw up on me.”

Levi blinked at you, his expression consisting of disgust and confusion. “What?”

“My soldier. He threw up on me earlier.”

“I heard you the first time.” he told you, blinking quickly as if it were going to grant him some clarity. You didn’t know if his confusion was from your act of saving him and his squad member or from not knowing what to say to you after.

He looked funny, with his hair that of a bird’s nest and his cheeks flushed pink.

“Did you hit your head on the way down?”

“W-what?”

“Your head? Did you hit it?”

“No, I-I’m fine.” he scrambled upright, finding purchase on the unconscious Oluo’s shin. Your eyes flickered to where his hand was placed, and he snatched it right off immediately, burning a deeper shade of pink.

“Oh.” you muttered, holding back a chuckle. There was no way Levi was without a concussion, not with the way he was acting all of a sudden: stuttering and turning pink on you. It was a wonder you caught up to him before he collapsed.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Captain?” you asked again, fixing your uniform before getting to your feet. You wobbled a bit; Levi raised a brow at you. “You look sick. Why don’t you sit in the injury wagon for a bit on the way back? Just in case.”

He waved you off, standing on his two feet as well. You didn’t want to cause a fight, not right after what had just happened and not outside the walls, so you decided to say nothing about his seeming concussion.

The two of you lifted Oluo off the ground, blood seeping from the side of the man’s mouth. “Is it his ribs? Was it an Abnormal? They were awful today.” you questioned, looking to Levi for answers.

“He bit his tongue, again, before ramming into a tree.” Levi told you, averting his gaze from you as he shifted the man against his shoulder for a better grip. “He said something f-fell from the sky.”

You nodded, letting yourself chuckle. “What could it’ve been? Bird shit?”

Levi shrugged at your words.

He was far too quiet for your liking. Maybe he did have a concussion. It wouldn’t be good if he rode back like that. Perhaps if you spoke to Erwin or Hange about it, one of them could convince Levi to get checked out once you got back to the walls.

The two of you managed to get back to the rest of the Scouts safely. You helped Levi placing Oluo in the wagon with the wounded and the fallen while everyone else was getting accounted for.

All the while, Hange was trying to persuade Erwin into letting them form a search party for their glasses that had fallen while they were swinging on the trees.

Though you were straining to listen to their conversation, you were more than certain that Erwin would never allow such a thing, but you had to admire Hange’s efforts, as fruitless as they were.

“Thank you.”

You snapped your head to Levi.

He refused to meet your gaze again, busying himself with readjusting his soldier’s cape. If not for the obvious step into uncharted territory between the two of you, you would’ve commented on the rosy blush he adorned.

Suddenly, you were overcome with a laughter, waving him off with your hand quickly. “I was just joking about that, Captain. Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but I’m just surprised you actually—”

He scoffed, the expression on his face shifting to one of impatience. “Don’t be a brat. Just take the compliment.” Levi huffed out, visibly annoyed with your chatter.

A look of shock overtook your face. “Oh, so you’re complimenting me? Why didn’t you just say so, then?”

“Oi, that’s not what I meant—”

“No, it’s fine. I heard you, loud and clear.” you interrupted, smiling widely at him. “You’re oh-so very welcome, Captain Ackerman, and if you ever need me to save your ass again, you know where to find me.”

Levi opted to say nothing back, merely shaking his head at you when you gave a lazy salute and started back to the other side of the formation where your horse and squad awaited you.

“Besides,” you shrugged, turning back for a moment to catch him looking at you. “Who else would teach me how to make tea?”

note: I don’t think I specified it, but Oluo was knocked unconscious bc some object (Hange’s glasses) fell from the sky lmao 🐸

#snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot #aot x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman scenario #levi ackerman imagine #attack on Titan #snk x y/n

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pippytmi · 3 years

Note

Howdy! For the little au trope prompt ask. 2, 2, 39. Supercorp please. Thank you! (Hope it helps your writer's block!)

Everyone knows that when the Quidditch season starts, rivalries begin.

As a general rule, Lena doesn’t mind the Gryffindors. If she had to pick a house she hated, the Slytherins would be the unfortunate lot; Veronica Sinclair and Andrea Rojas alone give the group a bad name. (That could be Lena’s own personal bias, given the fact that both girls have broken her heart, but she maintains it goes far deeper than that). But the point stands—Lena isn’t a hateful person. Generally.

There is just something about Kara Danvers that brings it out of her. The one and only Gryffindor that Lena despises is that moronic, reckless Chaser who scores nearly every single goal she takes. The Ravenclaw team is nothing to sneeze at either, but Lena hates that of all people to throw her off her game, it is a girl who blew up her broom when attempting to fly on it during her first year. Seven years that she has known Kara, and still Lena is annoyed at the mere sight of those perpetually-askew glasses, those untucked robes, that undone tie; Kara Danvers is never expected to be poised and perfect, even with all the expectations on her shoulders. She’s just so...blasé. People talk about Kara like she is destined to join a Quidditch team straight out of Hogwarts and all Kara does is stroll into the Great Hall on game day with her head in the clouds.

So far up the clouds that she apparently can’t watch where she is going, either. Lena throws Kara the nastiest glare she can muster when they just about knock each other’s heads together, but all Kara does at the sight of it is grin. She always grins, not in a way that is arrogant or snide, but stupidly amused. Stupidly amused, as if everything Lena says or does is a bloody laugh, like Lena’s simmering hatred is nothing more than an inside joke.

“Hey, Luthor,” Kara says cheerfully, and there she goes, pushing those crooked glasses up her nose. There is a scratch on one lens, and Kara has either not noticed or not bothered to repair it. “Trying to take out the competition a little early, even for you.”

“You were the one in my way, Danvers,” Lena replies tightly.

“Was I?” And here is the kicker, that golden girl charm that fools everyone: bright blue eyes peeking out beneath those eyelashes, hand rubbing at the back of her neck, undone tie slipping an inch further. Kara tilts her head unassumingly as if that is even an actual question.

It makes Lena furious. “Here’s a tip,” she says, “for here and the Quidditch field. Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you could actually see where you’re headed.”

Kara has the audacity to look affronted. “Is this because of the Brainy incident during training? Because he and I agreed that it was a joint effort. Joint…blame. Whatever you call it.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Just keep your aggression to yourself, Danvers,” she mutters, and then she resolutely brushes past. She has no time for blank, witty banter, especially when this is the year’s first game and she has a team to rally.

“My—? Hey,” Kara’s voice rings out, louder than necessary, and that idiot is actually following her. “Hey, wait. Lena. Do you seriously think I’m aggressive? It was an accident! Both times!” A beat. “I mean both the Brainy thing and right now. I didn’t knock into Brainy twice. I did knock James off his broom once, but you probably don’t care about that since he’s not from your house, so…well anyway, just so you know, that was also an accident.”

“I have zero interest in your training squabbles,” Lena says exasperatedly, “and you’d do well to keep that in mind.”

“Oh so this is about the Brainy incident,” Kara says. “How many times do I have to say that the training pitch was ours?”

“According to you,” Lena counters. With that she whirls around, nearly colliding into Kara’s chest, but she still manages to lift her head up high and stare down that egotistical jackass. “I know you might think you’re entitled to any space you waltz into, but some of us mere mortals actually schedule training sessions. You know, like we’re supposed to.”

“I did schedule the—!” Kara has a tendency to become flustered mid-argument, it seems, because her mouth opens but no words come blustering out. Finally she settles on scowling when she declares, “You are a piece of work, you know that? Would it kill you to apologize to me once in a while?”

“That would imply that you have apologized to me at some point,” Lena scoffs. “Which you haven’t, for the record.”

“Yes I have,” Kara is quick to disagree.

Lena crosses her arms; it’s a challenge, and Kara immediately stands a little straighter when she notices. “Oh?” Lena prompts. “Like when?”

“Like…when I knocked into Brainy.”

“I fail to see how I fit in that scenario,” Lena says, “since you didn’t break my nose.”

Kara gives a little huff, as if this back and forth is all so inconvenient right now; as if she hasn’t instigated it. “Okay, but I apologized for disrupting your practice, remember? I took complete responsibility even though it was your fault you couldn’t keep track of when your team was scheduled—”

“That was not an apology. You literally said ‘Sorry Luthor, we need this more than you do’ and then refused to leave for the next half hour!”

“But I said sorry in there, ergo, it is an apology.”

“Well then, when my team beats yours to dust I’ll be sure to apologize properly for that in that exact same sympathetic manner,” Lena sneers.

Somehow, trash talk only makes that dumb, signature Kara Danvers grin come back, completely wiping away any sign of vexation. “Oh yeah? Tell me more, wise old Ravenclaw—”

Before Lena can even begin to dissect that childish comeback (and stupid sing-songy imitation of the Sorting Hat), other students come filtering down the hall and they are practically swept up in the masses. One kid completely shoulders Lena before she even realizes what’s happening; she stumbles to the left, nearly collides with the wall, and opens her mouth to shout, but then:

“Hey!” Kara is already brandishing her wand with one hand and catching the boy’s collar with the other. “Ten points from Hufflepuff! You could’ve hurt someone, walking around without looking where you’re going.”

Lena bites her tongue to stop from making a quip on how ironic that statement is, because Kara is engrossed in a stare-off with the pimply sixth year who is demanding to see her prefect badge to prove Kara can even take points. She would normally side with the kid—anything to knock Kara Danvers down a peg—but, well. For once, Lena can’t be bothered to actively hate someone getting into a heated argument on her behalf.

Two minutes later and the boy stomps off with ten points gone from his house and a detention to boot. Kara, meanwhile, is still frowning as he leaves. “Are you okay?” she asks absentmindedly, still tracking the kid’s every movement with her eyes. “I swear, if there weren’t so many witnesses I would’ve hexed him.”

“Winning move for a prefect, I’m sure,” Lena says dryly, and Kara turns towards her with that slow-growing buffoonish smile and another sheepish nudge of her glasses. Her next words kind of just fall out, almost as if she’d never formed them in her mouth but in the deep recesses of her subconscious alone: “You know, you confuse me.”

“Huh?” Another nudge. The smile slips a fraction, but just enough to show Kara is slightly confused by the change in subject.

You confuse me, Lena wants to repeat. You are the opposite of self-aware. You are messy, and reckless, and selfless whenever it counts and it’s confusing because all I can really hate you for is being able to get away with being imperfect and still be adored by everyone.

But none of those words, thankfully, leave her head. All she says is, “Your approach to discipline confuses me. It’s not like he purposely tried to run into me—ten points might have been too harsh.”

“This coming from the girl who once threatened to curse me into oblivion for tripping her when we were twelve?” Kara’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who are you and what have you done to Lena Luthor? No, hold on, I know. You’re really Jess in disguise, right?”

“Hilarious, Danvers. I wouldn’t quit Quidditch, it might be the only place you’re suited for,” Lena mocks, but all Kara does is laugh.

“Nope, definitely Lena,” Kara says, and the way she says it is almost…fond. Come to think of it, Lena can’t remember a time where Kara actually called her Lena. It’s always Luthor and Danvers and stop breaking the faces of my best players and never—never anything else.

Lena clears her throat and looks away; she can’t take another second of those warm, bright eyes. “Whatever,” she says. “I…guess I’ll see you on the pitch.”

“Sure thing,” Kara says, and she takes a step back, tucking her wand into her pocket. “I’ll be the one rocking the winning team uniform.”

Slowly, Lena begins to feel the corner of her mouth twitch. Completely unbidden, completely unpredictable. “Dream on, Danvers.” She allows the space between them to grow, but their eyes remain locked, and the air feels heavy—thick—and the weight of their shared gaze holds a meaning Lena can’t possibly unpack right now.

But Kara’s tongue pokes out between her teeth cheerfully, and she doesn’t appear half as bothered by this development. “Always, if you’re in them,” she says, twists a little on her heel to walk away, but she pauses while she is still in earshot. “You know—next time you can just thank me for defending you.”

“You mean abusing your power as a prefect,” Lena replies automatically even as her head is running a mile a minute; even as Kara is getting farther and farther away and the scratch on her glasses lens catches the light.

“That too!” Kara shouts as she gets lost in the crowd, and damn her, Lena has to put her hand over her mouth to hide the absolute idiotic smile that has formed on her own face.

(Joint blame indeed, Lena muses, and she figures that she might as well form a rivalry with the Slytherins instead of the Gryffindors after all).

#this is both a threat and a reminder that im still working on these #😌😌😌#supercorp #supergirl #bisexualgoof #i need a fic tag #disclaimer that i still do not know anything about hp #im doing more research on harry potter than i do writing smh

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unicreamuwu · 3 years

Text

Bnha Yandere Simulator Au Characters

Ayano Aishi ( Yandere Chan ) - Izuku Midoriya ( Deku )

( Izuku Midoriya was broken when he was young. Not because he is quirkless, because he had no feeling of emotions. His father, Hisashi, told him that he'll meet someone special like he did with Inko. When he met All Might, he tried to help him. Even gave him his quirk. However, it still didn’t help the broken boy. One day, he met a girl named Y/N while bumping into each other in the hallway. It helped him escape out of his broken life and started to learn more about her. He knows her favorite color, food, drink, the places she goes. The problem is that he has to get rid of the people who are close to her. Which means hurting or killing them. )

Taro Yamada ( Senpai ) - Y/N L/N

( Y/N L/N is a normal girl with a normal life. the problem is that she doesn't know the danger she's in. )

Info Chan - Hitoshi Shinsou

( Hitoshi Shinsou is an unknown student at U.A. who said that he's in general studies who helps Izuku eliminate his victims. I think he's doing this to get revenge on him at the end for probably having All Might's quirk, or taking his spot to be in the hero course. )

Osana Najimi - Katsuki Bakugou

( Katsuki Bakugou is Y/N's childhood friend who blames her for almost everything while walking home and school together. He also has a best friend named Eijiro who basically follows him almost everywhere, so it can be hard for Izuku to eliminate him. The best way to eliminate him is to befriend and betraying him by doing something for him that's a huge problem and in return, he has to get away from Y/N, or other ways. )

Raibaru Fumetsu - Eijiro Kirishima

( Eijiro Kirishima was used to be the club leader of martial arts in middle school until a girl named Mina Ashido beat him in a competition. After that, he quits his club and starts to hang around with his new best friend, Katsuki when he got into U.A. Don't try to challenge him because he can easily beat you. )

Amai Odayaka - Denki Kaminari

( Denki Kaminari is a jester in his class and could act a bit perverted. He met Y/N in town when he saw her sitting by herself. She explains to him that what happened between her and her childhood friend, Katsuki. He comforts her and gives her a biscuit. He loves to make her laugh. The best way to eliminate him is to poison him by putting rat poison in his lunch. )

Kizuna Sunobu - Neito Monoma

( Neito Monoma is that one student who sees himself as the most popular student at U.A. and brags almost everyone about it. Some people find him weird, and some of them find him as a king. He normally invites Y/N to be the role of Juliet for the Romeo and Juliet play his class will be doing at the festival this year. The best way to eliminate him is to crush him while rehearsing without being seen. )

Oka Ruto - Tamaki Amajiki

( Tamaki Amajiki is often really distant from people. He said that Y/N was the only one who showed him light in his heart, saying that he cast a spell on him. The best way to eliminate him is to framing him by saying that he killed someone who bullied him a lot by calling him a "coward".)

Asu Rito - Tenya Iida

( Tenya Iida is the fastest student in his class. He and Y/n are in the same agency, Manual. When Y/n got injured during a patrol, he took care of her. When she recovered, they started to train together. As the class representative, it's his job to keep the students together. The best way to eliminate him is to drown him. )

Muja Kina - Yo Shindo

( Yo Shindo is a student at Ketsubutsu Academy High School. He recently broke up with his girlfriend, Tatami Nakagame. Y/N always comfort him when they first met at Provisional Hero Licensing Exam. He helped her a lot as a team and helped her to recover sometimes as well. The best way to eliminate him is to matchmake Shindo and Tatami back together. )

Mida Rana - Shota Aizawa

( Shota Aizawa is Izuku and Y/N's homeroom teacher. Not only that he's her teacher, but he's also her private tutor. His secret is that he only did this to be with her, even though she has great grades. The best way to eliminate him is to fire him due to having a crush on a high school student. )

Osoro Shidesu - Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu

( Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu is Monoma's classmate. He looks like he can kill someone in a minute like Bakugou, but he has a soft heart for Y/N after he competed against her at the sport's festival. Just like Tenya, he always stayed a bit too close to her because he knows that something might happen to her. The best way to eliminate him is to expel him for school violations he "did". )

Hanako Yamada - Kota Izumi

( Kota Izumi is Y/N's younger cousin. When class 1a came for the summer training camp, Kota always kept her away from guys. He does not have a love interest for her, but he doesn't want her to have any male friends or a boyfriend, as he just wants all of her attention. The best way to eliminate him is to kidnap him and force him to stay away from Y/N and never talk to her again, or he'll die. )

Megami Saikou - Shoto Todoroki

( Shoto Todoroki is well known as Endeavor's youngest child. He is smart, strong, and popular. Y/n and his mothers were friends and wanted them to get along and be friends. Shortly after that, he wanted to save her and protect her from the incidents that have been happening. The best way to eliminate him is to torture him and mind slave him to kill himself by stabbing himself multiple times. )

( I think the rivals will relate to these students from U.A. Sorry if you disagree with me, but I will not change it. Yes, Y/N goes to U.A. and has a quirk. No, Kirishima does not have a crush on Y/N. )

#my hero academia #yandere simulator au #yandere deku #yandere deku x reader #female reader #senpai female reader #yandere academia #yandere izuku #yandere midoriya #yandere male

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samatedeansbroccoli · 2 years

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For the character headcanon ask thingy- Menendez and/or Mason!! (Alex OR David honestly if you do both feel free to take your pick) [:

I might as well do all 3 because why the Hell not

All of it's under the cut, because I apparently love to talk/type and this got really long XD

Warnings: PTSD, mentioned child death, mentioned divorce?, probably lowkey softening up a terrorist with some of these

Raúl Menéndez:

1. Russian was Menéndez’s second language, not English

During the Cold War, South America and LATAM were basically hotspots for U.S./Soviet struggle as they fought to overthrow leaders and replace them with their own, as well as get the people on their side. You know. The stuff they did with pretty much every other country too. The U.S. had been backing the dictating family of Nicaragua, the Somoza family, since the 1930s. This sparked a competing party called Sandinista National Liberation Force (FSLN) to form. In the 1960s, the FSLN caught the eye of the Soviet Union, who were willing to offer aide out of spite of Democracy. In 1979, the FSLN overthrew the Somoza family. Shortly after they broke ties to the Soviets after disagreeing with their policies and realizing the future for Nicaragua was elsewhere.

In BO2, Menéndez is heard talking to Kravchenko in Russian. Considering he was born in 1963, and his father was canonly killed by Contras for disagreeing with them, Menéndez likely grew up around an influenced Soviet place. He acquired the Russian language pretty much through language osmosis (I forget the actual term, and I'm studying for my bio test so this is the best I can come up with). English came later.

2. Menéndez’s spoken language changes as he reads more

I think this is more of an observation than a headcanon, but it's one I like to bring up. One of Menéndez’s many characteristics is his flowery language. His most famous line ("Opulence is sinful, and we all pay for it") sounds straight out of the old classics, and it's no surprise he's well-read when he says to David (if he lives), "Study Ulysses...and be ready." Although he's always had a way of using his words to play mind games, his first contact with Alex Mason in Angola has him speaking quite differently from when he talks to David in prison. If I remember correctly, he's 23 when Mason shoots him in the eye. And he's 62 when he dies/goes to prison. In that ~40 years, Menéndez’s speech goes from a more straightforward yet sneering method of talking to a calmer and riddle style of talking. The way he talks emulates some of what is considered the greatest works of all times (Homer's poems, Ulysses, Animal Farm, yada yada), showing that not only did the books influence his political views, but also how he thinks and speaks. Even between Angola/Josefina's death to 1989 when he killed Hudson, he takes more time with word games, though the change is subtler than when he's with David.

Ultimately, he likes to read, and he reads a lot. And probably takes a few too many books too close to his heart but hey. Same, dude.

3. Once upon a time, Menéndez had a girlfriend

Shocker, I know, because he doesn't seem like the type. And honestly, that's why he's still single in his 60s: the relationship didn't work out. However, what attracted him to her in the first place was her ability to challenge him in a good way. Menéndez is a dictator, and from studying the psychology of multiple dictators of the 19th and 20th century, a few of the common themes among dictators are loneliness, and inability to feel as though people can think and communicate on their level.

And that's where the girlfriend excelled: despite having less of an education than him and never having travelled the world, she was quick to the punch and could have a full discussion with him about anything he brought up. Their topics ranged from books, to politics, to just life in general. Simply having her around made him feel less lonely.

They broke up, Menéndez’s egotistical behaviour getting to be too much, but they kept their friendship when they learned they could maintain that better than a romantic relationship. She remarried and raised two daughters, whom Menéndez would let play on the Cartel villa's lawn where he could keep an eye on the kids if the ex-gf needed a break.

I named the girlfriend María, but that's because I have a pretty elaborate AU about Menéndez fostering David out of spite, and she's part of it.

Alex Mason

I thought I didn't have any on this guy but my fanfic drafts say otherwise so here we go.

1. Fear of touch and learning through music

After Vorkuta, Mason was absolutely terrified of anyone that touched him. Once upon a time it used to trigger violent outbursts and he would often get into fights with Hudson or Woods if they accidentally brushed up against him or forgot to warn him where their hands were. But as time went on, he became less violent, opting to sometimes just curl up or recoil instead.

Raising David was Hell because the boy would want to crawl all over Mason with no concept of where Mason's boundaries were. Woods would live with him for a time to help raise David, and would sometimes see Mason winding up to act violently or break down in tears as he held David.

Listening to music turned out to be the best helper for this, Mason able to calm down quickly when he realized all he needed to do was focus on the beat. Hudson and Woods bought dozens of records which could be played all day should Mason ever have an outburst for any reason. While most of this played around Mason's house, occasionally Hudson started playing it around any base they operated out of, partially to entertain the people there, but mainly because the close quarters living left Mason in multiple areas where he would accidentally make contact with another person.

Only Woods can get away with more than a shoulder touch outside of operation purposes.

2. Mason is a storyteller

Woods started this one, but Mason quickly learned and perfected it: he is an absolute godsend of a storyteller. He will often elaborate on his rifle competitions he did as a kid, and especially liked to elaborate and exaggerate certain missions that were mundane or had no real weight to them, according to his perspective (Vadim Rudnik and Operation Red Circus from BOCW being one of them). Woods finds them endearing, Hudson finds them also endearing annoying.

There is a deeper application to his storytelling, however. Canonly, after Vorkuta, Mason is known to get trapped in speech loops, zoning out and saying the same things over and over again until he can ground himself and come back to reality. By picking up storytelling, it helps him work through his trauma and find ways to vary his vocabulary, giving him access to coping tools needed to escape his mind through teaching his brain to constantly search for and create new phrases to make his stories exciting.

3. He went temporarily blind

This is actually based off a fanfic I wrote (and mildly regret 😅) where Mason fell at Yamantau platform and hit his head, going permanently blind. While we can’t have that exactly happen since Mason still has a lot of campaign left, it’s now been moved back to temporarily blind.

When the Yamantau zipline snapped in BOCW, Mason was far unluckier than the campaign and hit the back of his head, knocking him out. Woods rescued him, then Belikov rescued them both and the console they took, however when Mason awoke he was unable to see anything but a blur. At most, he could see bright colors that were close to him. It’s why they weren’t back in Berlin when Adler and Bell went to Lubyanka.

For the next few days, Woods would wear the brightest colored shirts he could find and put neon rings or bands on his hands so Mason always knew where he and his hands were when they were close. That way Mason wouldn’t freak out if Woods needed to touch him for whatever reason.

Mason recovered in a few days and was back on his feet shortly.

David Mason

I honestly don't like this guy a lot, but I have some deep HCs for him. So let me dig them up...

1. David passively got the Hudson family killed

Yes, I like angst. Yes, I like torturing David more than he already has been by his own canon.

Mason and Hudson’s death was on Dec. 19th, 1989, which is a Tuesday. That doesn’t sound important until you remember that most American schools are still in session around that time. Tuesday is also the second day of the week, meaning that David’s capture could have happened Monday and left plenty of time for Menéndez’s men (or Menéndez himself) to bring David down to Panama.

I like to think David is a similar age to Hudson’s kids, and they would l to the same school together. Jenny Hudson would then pick them up from school. While on their way back from school, they were grabbed by Menéndez’s men. Seeing Hudson’s personality, it’s likely Jenny would fight to try and protect the children the best she could, which would prompt Menéndez’s men to kill the Hudson family and take David.

Hudson realizes this in the middle of Menéndez’s countdown. As he’s begging Woods to die because he has a family at home, he realizes that if David is here, Jenny is dead. And likely his children. Therefore, he has no one to go home to and no reason to be around anymore, hence why he agrees so suddenly to Menéndez killing him, not Woods.

2. David had two marriages

David's marriage is never once mentioned in canon, but he has two daughters. Probably the most obvious difference between them is their appearance. His oldest, Savannah, has a very thin face with blonde hair and a skinny stature, while his youngest Jessica basically gets all the Mason genes. But genetics are funky, so the other notable thing is that his daughters have two last names: Mason-Meyers and Mason-Green. While Jessica Mason-Green married and may have taken the last name of her husband, Savannah Mason-Meyers is unmarried, and her last name remains in question.

Jessica is "dead" for BO4 so we never hear her side of the story. So instead, we have Savannah, who prefers to focus on Alex Mason and call him a hero (and she shows deep respect for Woods... maybe a little too much) rather than her father who stopped the biggest terrorist in the world (Menéndez) present in her lifetime. Menéndez’s voice haunts Savannah at night sometimes.

Keep in mind, Jessica is canonly born in 2013 (she's 9 years old in 2022 holy shit she's an actual human) and Savannah is the older sibling (I like to say Savannah was born 2008 but you can choose whatever). That means that up until David retires (depends on the ending) in 2025, he was in the military for much of their lives. David is SEAL Team 6/J-SOC, which puts him as a very busy man with multiple oversea tours. Given Savannah's vague resentment towards David, it may be in part that David's second marriage ruined her perception on him, especially as Jessica followed into the Mason military bloodline while Savannah didn't.

3. David is a terrible cook

There is absolutely no evidence supporting this. This is just from one of the first BO2 fanfics I wrote and never published where David tried to cook Mike Harper a cheeseburger and it turned out so bad Mike ended up getting sick. But that's about it. Just a sweet little headcanon to follow up the darker previous one.

#thebroccoliresponds #thanks Rose!#call of duty #black ops cold war #black ops 2 #Alex Mason #david mason #Raul Menendez

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veinsandknuckles · 3 years

Note

please write something w abed being comforted by his partner!! i don’t mind if it’s sfw or not!! just please make it soft and stuff! thanks!!

Very good prompt, thank you anon!!! Abed Nadir/Reader Abed shuts down, goes nonverbal and the reader helps him recover. PG-13 Content warnings: ableism, self harming stims, Autism Speaks (implied), reader and Abed are both hornballs (implied) I think I wrote a gender neutral reader, but if I didn’t succeed lmk what I should fix. Same goes for any content warnings I may have missed! -------- You turned heel and ran as soon as you heard Abed scream. There was nothing quite as painful, both sonically and emotionally, as that high pitched, drawn out shriek and you knew it never came until he’d been pushed well beyond his limits. It carried, too, before it trailed off - there was a good distance between your upcoming lecture and the library so by the time you threw open the door to the study room, you were out of breath.

Abed sat on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and Britta crouched beside him, awkwardly patting his shoulder and waving a hand in front of his face.

When she saw you, she got to her feet to give you room. “I don’t know what happened, I found him like this.”

“Thank you, Britta.” You got to your knees in front of him and Abed stared right through you. It would be alright - you had a plan. “Abed, can you talk?”

Abed blinked. You drew a deep breath and looked him over. His grip was a little tighter, his posture was a little more hunched. You studied his hands - his nails were digging into his arms, he was hurting himself. As counterintuitive as it sounded and as heartbreaking as it was to see, you knew this was a good sign.

You kept your tone and face as neutral as possible so he wouldn’t have anything to interpret. “Can you make a sound?”

He screwed his eyes shut and after a pause, he managed a little hum.

“Alright, good. Last question, are we doing scenario A?”

This time the hum came quicker and stronger. Once meant yes, twice meant no. Silence meant he was beyond choosing. You turned to Britta.

“Britta, do you have Abed’s class schedule?”

“I think so.” She got out her backpack and started rifling. You could tell she was nervous, and like most nervous people, this meant she wanted to talk. “I should have a copy in my wallet, or I can get one from -“

“Can you find his professors and tell them what’s up?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Great, thank you. I’ll keep you updated.” You turned back to Abed. “Abed, I’m going to grab you.”

With a bit of effort, you managed to get him on his feet with his arm across your shoulders. He stood on his own but held on tight. “Good. Now we’re going to walk, just follow my lead.”

The sight of the two of you staggering awkwardly down the halls was enough to make practically everyone stop and stare. You knew from experience that glaring right back sometimes prompted people to get out of the way but usually didn’t remind them to mind their own business. Abed had told you he didn’t notice, especially not when he was this far gone, and that if he noticed, he didn’t care. That didn’t stop you hurting on his behalf.

It took some doing, but in less than five minutes you made it to the right door. Abed walked on his own now so he entered ahead of you and stood motionless in the middle of the room while you turned on the lights, shut and locked the door behind you and made sure everything was as you’d left it. Popularity with the dean might be a mixed bag, but it definitely had its perks and the use of this dilapidated, dank corner of the campus as an emergency hide-out was one of them.

You made sure to walk into Abed’s eye line before touching him again, then took him by the arm and led him to an armchair placed against the far wall. He sat and you sat beside him.

From under your own chair, you got out a box of emergency supplies and dug out a candy bar, thanking the stars that no rats or stoners had found this little stash yet. You peeled off the wrapper and handed it to Abed who held it in both hands and took a bite. Slowly, gradually, his breathing deepened and his limbs relaxed.

“What time is it?” His voice was steady but quiet.

“It’s twenty minutes past three.”

“I have a test.”

“That’s alright, you can take it over another day. Britta is filling everyone in”

Abed sighed. He’d finished the candy and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“You want another one?”

He held his hands out, but wide apart, and you placed the whole box in his lap so he could help himself.

It always baffled you when people insisted Abed was difficult to read - all you’d had to do to learn was watch, listen, use a very little imagination and then ask him to explain whatever wasn’t logically obvious. He fished out a Rubik’s cube and went to work of separating the colours as thoroughly as he could.

“Thank you,” he said and looked at you properly for the first time.

For now, as long as nothing caught him off guard and he was careful, the danger had passed. You smiled and squeezed his knee. “Always.”

“Aren’t you missing your classes?”

“Eh. I like to be a little unpredictable - keeps them on their toes.”

He smiled back. “People love a good mystery. Simple mysteries, anyway.”

“Who are you calling simple?”

Abed looked a little questioning, so you waggled your eyebrows to signal that you were kidding. His expression didn’t change. “You’re not simple. You figured me out and not even I got very far with that.”

“I don’t know about all that... it’s usually easier to understand other people’s problems than to understand your own.”

“I guess that’s true.” He seemed to be working through something, so you let him be until he spoke again. When he did, he sounded hesitant. “Will you get bored?”

“How do you mean?”

“Once you’ve figured me out.”

“Abed, you’re not a puzzle.”

“I don’t know. A lot of awareness campaigns would disagree with you.”

“No, I meant you’re not a puzzle because that implies a challenge.”

Now he stared at you and his slightly offended expression made you laugh. It might suck to always be called special, but it did still mean you were special.

“Being with you is not hard work. At least it isn’t hard work for me.” But Abed didn’t look reassured, so you went on. “Does it feel like I’m trying to solve you?”

“I’m not sure. You’re methodical. Maybe I just worry about it, so I look for signs...”

You reached out and put an arm around him. Abed leant his head on your shoulder.

“I don’t want to make you feel like that because it’s not true. I love all of you. If I just wanted to learn how to help someone through a shutdown, there’s easier ways to do that than dating you.”

“Cool.” He held up his hand and you laced your fingers between his.

“Should I do anything differently?”

“No... I just needed to be sure.”

“What happened to stress you out, anyway?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t interesting.”

You snorted. “Alright then.”

He leaned out, a small smile playing on his lips. “So, if you're not dating me for my mind, it must be because I’m physically irresistible.”

“Of course it is.”

“Cool.”

“Every time you talk about Inspector Spacetime I tune out your voice and imagine climbing you like a palm tree.”

“What?”

“I meant -“ you began, but then Abed waggled his eyebrows and you laughed. “Oh, I see. Very nice.”

“My mind was somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

He pulled at you, gently, and you slipped out of your seat to sit on his lap. Abed put his arms around you and kissed you and the kiss still tasted of sugar. When he broke it, you felt short of breath for the second time that day.

You leaned your forehead against his to steady yourself and forced yourself to ask, “are you ready to get back out there?”

“Technically, yes. If I lie, will you stay here with me?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’m not ready.”

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

#abed nadir x reader #abed x reader #abed nadir imagines #community fanfiction #abed nadir imagine #my fics #Anonymous #actually autistic #actuallyautistic

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sunandmoongobrrr · 3 years

Text

Korra and her Brutalization: A Legend of Korra Meta

In honor of International Womens’ Day, I want to talk a little bit about Legend of Korra and the treatment of Korra (and to a small extent other women) throughout the show. Content warning: there's some disturbing scenes that I show here, but if you've watched all of LoK, you should be fine.

Korra starts off confident; she is a young avatar who is eager to learn and feels suffocated from the isolation she is kept in from a very young age. But that doesn’t stop her, and like the headstrong girl she is, she moves to Republic City to make a difference and step into her role as the avatar.

Korra immediately starts to doubt herself; she becomes unsure of her abilities and frustrated with herself, and through that she learns to become emotionally vulnerable with Tenzin. To me, this was really great. It showed that you can be confident and vulnerable, and that the two aren’t necessarily independent of each other.

(I’m going to be honest, the 2nd season I didn’t really remember much of, so I’m just going to skip over that. Because what I really want to talk about is season 3.)

In season three, Korra faces the Red Lotus, an “anarchist” group that essentially wants to kill her. And they get pretty close. First, I want to talk about how Tenzin is beaten by the Red Lotus. This has been brought up in Lily Orchard’s (in?)famous LOK video, and while I disagree with her on many many topics of the show, I really think she has a point here. When Tenzin is being brutalized by the Red Lotus, the camera pans away. It is SO painful to see him like this, and the directors know it. It’s TOO painful to see it, so they don’t show you it, and the episode ends before we can see him be defeated.

Contrast that with Korra. They show you every detail of this. And I mean every detail.

It’s disgusting, and they refuse to treat her with any sort of decency or respect like they do Tenzin. It’s almost like they want us to enjoy her torturing. It’s genuinely gross.

People will often refute this by saying “LoK is just a darker show! Look at what they did to the Earth Queen!” And while yes, it is marketed towards an older audience, there’s still no point in brutalizing Korra this way. The main difference between Korra and the Earth Queen is that… well, Korra’s the protagonist. We’re supposed to be rooting for her, and while the Earth Queen being suffocated was definitely dark, it wasn’t unprecedented. The audience was never supposed to like the Earth Queen—she exploited and kidnapped her own people, so of course we wouldn’t care THAT much if she died. But we’ve been with Korra since the beginning. We’re supposed to want her to be happy, and why on earth would we want her to be tortured brutally in such a disgusting way that gives her absolutely no dignity? If we want her to succeed?

(here Zaheer uses the same technique used on the Earth Queen to suffocate here on Korra. for some reason)

In Season 4, the main focus is on Korra and her healing from the brutal things the Red Lotus did to her. She is clearly still struggling, and it could have been another great way to show how being physically strong and confident doesn’t mean you can’t be vulnerable. But they make a lot of bad choices in this season.

One of my main gripes is that in order to heal, she has to return to her abuser, Zaheer, and HE has to teach her how to feel better.

I don’t want to compare LoK to ATLA, although it’s very important to mention that a show that’s a direct sequel, uses its old characters, and banks off of references, should be able to be compared to its predecessor. But I think it’s important to compare Korra’s arc here to Zuko. This doesn’t come out of nowhere; Korra has a lot of similarities to Zuko. The chopping of her hair is a significant turning point in her arc, and there’s an episode called “Korra Alone” (which is clearly a direct callback; shown below).

The difference between Zuko and Katara is that, a. Zuko never had to accept his abuser, and b. Zuko started off as a villain.

One of Zuko’s major points is when he confronts his father—his abuser. He does not bow to him and give in, saying that maybe he had a few good points or his heart was in the right place, but he directly says that Ozai was wrong for what he did. This isn’t the case with Korra. For some reason, Korra has to learn to trust her abuser. The person who did this to her:

And she has to hear him out.

This leads me to my second point, and what’s basically the complaint I have; despite being a protagonist, the show treats Korra like a villain. It frames her torture scenes as if we’re supposed to be excited that she’s being brutalized, as if we’re supposed to think she deserves it. And it’s not even handled properly as one of the villains we know so well—Zuko, who was able to overcome his abuse and become a protagonist who we root for. Again, Zuko and Korra aren’t directly the same characters, but there are parallels between the two and the show encourages their comparison. When it comes to Korra, however, we’re supposed to believe that she deserves everything that comes to her; the brutal scenes and the lack of dignity, even if she is a protagonist.

And in the end, that’s what we’re meant to believe; that Korra deserved what happened to her. In the finale, Korra says, “I finally understand why I had to go through all that. I needed to understand what true suffering was, so I could become more compassionate to others.”

This is, to put it short, ridiculous. I hate this so much I can’t even begin to say how much I hate it. No, Korra did not have to go through the torture she went through. She did not have to go through the mercury poisoning. She did not have to go through every hardship she did. This “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is so harmful because Korra’s healing revolved around accepting her abuser and thanking him for the awful things he did to her. Korra wasn’t even that cocky by the end of the first season, so what it’s essentially indirectly teaching girls is that if you’re confident, you’ll pay. It’s disgusting.

Zuko got a banishment to the Earth Kingdom, got to have his ideas and practices challenged, but he never got physically tortured. I truly, truly believe that one of the main reasons why Korra is quite literally villainized by the show is because she was a confident, brown teenage girl. None of the male characters are treated with such disrespect and we never get told that they need to be “humbled” by abuse.

This is not completely resolved to LoK; there are some aspects in ATLA that I think could’ve been fixed had there been more women in the room. I tag her a lot (bc her metas are awesome), but I really recommend you read @araeph 's Katara: Consumed by Destiny series. I also have a meta here about how Katara is treated in ATLA, specifically in “The Fortuneteller.” (I want to emphasize that while I am anti-Kataang, I don’t believe that Katara’s treatment had to do with the ship itself or that kataang is inherently anti-Katara. It’s just a note about how her character is treated in this episode and beyond.)

I’ve heard a lot of people say that they’re ‘glad’ that LoK didn’t feature Suki or Mai or Ty Lee, because they can’t imagine how poorly they’d be represented. And honestly, I can’t blame them.

This isn’t to say that we need to stop watching LOK or even ATLA. I think the internet has this weird problem where we’ve been told that the way to get rid of problematic media is to just stop consuming anything even remotely problematic altogether. But certain aspects of media will always be relatively problematic, since as content creators we sometimes input our biases into the things we create. The solution, then, is not to banish anyone who puts any harmful stereotypes into their content from society, but to actively and healthily criticize it. Bryke are not God, but they’re also not demons put on the earth to suppress woc. They’re white guys that have implicit biases that have worked their way into the content they produce. I think the lesson learned here, is to have women, especially BIWOC, in writing rooms, to prevent atrocious acts from happening to future Korra's.

Happy International Women’s Day, y’all.

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hartigays · 3 years

Note

rafebarry prompt: not canon compliant but rafe and barry are trying to get away from ward but barry gets hurt so rafe begs sarah + pouges (not on good terms w each other) to help them escape bc he loves barry<33

just a little something i thought about! totally up to you on how this all goes down if you decide to write it, anything you write is amazing !!

this was a stupid fucking idea. stupid, stupid, stupid. rafe knew from the beginning, he should’ve never agreed to this.

there aren’t many things that he and barry don’t agree on, surprisingly. even if they start off disagreeing about something, they generally always end up on the same page. but this plan had been something they’d gone back and forth on, never settling on a definitive decision.

in the end, barry had simply manhandled rafe over to the place he’d formerly called home - before ward booted his ass out - and waltzed them through the front door like they owned the place.

all to steal from ward, to get more money for coke and groceries (re: booze and hot pockets) and whatever other fleeting indulgences they could think of.

rafe had disagreed with this plan throughout its development and execution, not wanting to cross the one and only person in the entire world who scares him: ward cameron. and he’d been right to, because now barry is gasping for air, holding his side while blood spills from between his fingers.

they’re racing through the woods, trying to get as far away from ward’s long-range hunting rifle as they can.

rafe doesn’t know if ward knew he was barry’s companion in this little venture. he’d insisted they wear bandanas over their faces, but rafe is pretty sure ward would know his son in a heartbeat regardless.

he doesn’t even want to think about it. about the fact that ward shot barry, or that he probably would’ve shot rafe too if rafe hadn’t had the presence of mind to shove both barry and himself out of the nearest window, plunging into the bushes below before ward could get off another shot.

another shot on the person he more than likely knew to be his son.

ward had continued taking shots as rafe dragged barry across the yard and into the treeline, disappearing from view.

now, they’re back at the main road, barry collapsing against a tree as he clenches his hand around the wound in his side.

“let me see,” rafe demands, kneeling down and peeling up barry’s shirt despite barry shaking his head.

“ain’t got time, country club,” barry wheezes, trying to push rafe back so he’ll stand up and keep moving.

rafe doesn’t budge, just swipes at the blood with his shirt sleeve to get a better look at the wound. the bullet just grazed him, but it’s enough to warrant stitches at the very least.

“you’re not going to make it to the emergency room like this,” rafe comments absentmindedly, pulling out his phone a firing off a text to topper letting him know he’s going to need to borrow his car.

barry manages to push rafe back an inch this time, shaking his head furiously. “ain’t no way i’m goin’ to no damn hospital. i ain’t got insurance and your daddy done cut you off months ago. how you gonna pay for my little siesta in the ER with them empty pockets?”

and okay, he has a point. rafe will admit that. not to mention, ward has people all over the OBX, and if he sends out word about looking for his son, they’ll surely be caught if they’re trapped in the emergency room.

there’s only one other place rafe can think to go. one place where ward won’t know to look, one place where barry can get some medical help without having to shell out a fortune.

rafe may have to grovel a bit (or a lot), but he’ll do it. damn it, he’ll fucking do it because barry is going to bleed out if he doesn’t and that would really fucking suck because rafe was just starting to sort of like him.

he must’ve said that last part out loud, because barry manages to glare at him and say, “quit that shit. we been dating for a year, dickhead.”

then barry sort of slumps to the side, and rafe has to all but carry him to topper’s place.

rafe has just gotten the keys topper keeps in the cupholder into the ignition when he looks at his phone, seeing a text from top.

can’t let u borrow the car tonight, have a thing in the morning. srry bud.

rafe glances over at barry, who’s blacked out in the passenger’s seat, fresh blood still seeping out of his shirt.

“sorry about this, top,” rafe says to himself, turning the key and hearing the engine roar to life. “i’ll get you back later.”

he peels out of the driveway, speeding down the familiar streets until they become more and more unfamiliar, figure eight bleeding into the cut.

he zooms past more and more unfamiliar houses, searching for the only one he knows, starting to feel hopeless, starting to really worry that barry might actually die in the passenger’s seat of his car.

or topper’s car, rather. it’d be super annoying to have to apologize for that on top of having to apologize for stealing it in the first place, to be honest.

then suddenly, rafe is idling outside a house that is both familiar and unfamiliar. the few times he’s been here before, he’d been fucked up beyond belief and fueled by violent anger. it seems almost foreign to him now, while he’s sober as a judge (only due to his current circumstances, mind you) and fueled by nothing but pure adrenaline.

rafe practically drags barry to the house. there are all sorts of lights on, both inside and out, and rafe can hear the sounds of music and laughter drifting out from an open window nearby.

he only hesitates for a moment before circling around the house and banging on the door.

john b answers the door with a smile, a small wad of cash in his hand, clearly expecting some sort of food delivery. his smile fades instantly when he realizes it’s not his pizza or what the fuck ever, and is in fact rafe cameron and a half-dead barry.

“no,” is all john b says before trying to shut the door. rafe kicks his leg out, foot jamming between the door and the frame, preventing john b from closing it.

“fuck off, rafe,” john b grunts as he tries to shut the door. rafe can hear concerned voices from inside the house. “you’re not dragging us into whatever shit this is! literally fuck. off.”

“sarah!” rafe shouts, ignoring john b’s protests. “sarah!”

footsteps, and then sarah is pushing john b out of the way gently, looking at rafe in confusion, then at barry in horror.

“rafe? oh my god, what happened?”

sarah ushers them into the house, and rafe is literally dragging barry at this point. still, no one helps him get barry onto the couch. he manages regardless, but he’s panting when it’s all said and done, sliding down onto the floor with a grunt.

“i need you to help him,” rafe says, and he’s looking at pope, who’s seated in the corner beside jj, a guitar that he’s no longer strumming still sitting in his lap.

but john b is the one to answer, shaking his head. “no. besides, we can’t even help him. we don’t know how to do shit like that.”

“he does,” rafe says, still looking at pope, who’s now looking at barry thoughtfully.

“what?” kie laughs, looking bewildered. “pope may be smart, yeah, but he doesn’t have a medical degree. this guy needs a doctor.”

“i know how,” pope sighs, and rafe suppresses a smug smile. “i volunteered at the hospital last summer, remember?”

“and you knew this how?” john b asks rafe, accusatory.

“he was on my rounds once,” pope says calmly, leveling rafe with an unreadable look. “alcohol poisoning and a drug overdose all in one night.”

rafe fights the urge to look away, choosing instead to shrug nonchalantly.

“just another night in the cut, right?” rafe asks, arching one brow. “look, we can dredge up my poor life choices later, if it’ll make you all feel better and get your fucking panties out of a wad. but right now he needs help, so are you going to give him that or are you going to let him bleed out on your ugly ass couch?”

“i say let him bleed out,” john b snaps, clearly irked by rafe’s demands and insults.

rafe wants to knock the guy’s teeth down his throat, but he just breathes steadily through his nose. just like barry has been teaching him. “we can’t go to a hospital. no insurance, and ward’s hunting us down as we speak. so do i want to fucking be here? no. but i have to, so name your fucking price and we’ll pay it.”

“besides,” rafe continues, turning his eyes to sarah, challenging her, “you’re not just going to let someone die, are you?”

sarah narrows her eyes, hands perched on her hips. “no, that’s more your style, isn’t it?” then, she looks at pope. “come on, help him. he isn’t dying on john b’s couch. that’s way too creepy for me to deal with right now.”

pope nods and disappears from the room as sarah and john b bicker quietly. kie and jj glare daggers at rafe, while also eyeing barry, lying on the couch looking far more dead than alive.

when pope reappears, he has a first aid kit in one hand and a sewing kit in the other. he shoos rafe out of the way. rafe just scoots a little further to the left to give pope room, but stays close to barry.

“rafe, we need to talk,” sarah says after a moment. “outside?”

rafe shakes his head. “not until i know he’s okay.”

the room falls silent, and rafe looks around, glaring. “what, it’s illegal to care about people now? fuck off.”

“so do you want us to like… give you a room, or something? maybe some champagne and rose petals? we could get some ambient beats going, really set the mood, you know- ”

kie throws a pillow at jj, effectively shutting him up. “gross, jj. don’t put that image into my head.”

“look, whatever,” sarah interrupts, rolling her eyes. “but once he’s patched up, we’re having a conversation.”

rafe puts his hands up in mock surrender. “your house, your rules.”

he’s only trying to irritate john b, and it works. rafe smiles to himself when john b starts grumbling about it being his house actually, storming off to his room, undoubtedly to pout. sarah follows, and kie and jj trail after them a moment later. jj is the only one to look back, throwing a concerned look in pope’s direction before inevitably disappearing into john b’s bedroom.

rafe looks back at barry, all smugness disappearing from his expression when he sees just how bad the wound really is now that pope has cleaned it up a bit.

he really doesn’t care if he has to talk to sarah later - all he knows is that if barry dies, he’s sure as hell not going to be outside listening to sarah bitch at him when it happens.

rafe takes one of barry’s hands, ignoring the way pope’s eyes flicker down to the movement before returning to his work, remaining silent.

“you love him,” pope says suddenly, still not looking at rafe. he’s began sewing up the wound, his hands surprisingly steady.

“what’s it to you?” rafe asks defensively, but he curls his fingers tighter around barry’s, a little possessively.

pope just shrugs, like he doesn’t really care one way or another. “just an observation.”

he ties off the thread and cleans up the remaining dried blood from the wound with a rubbing alcohol-soaked cotton ball before applying a bandage and tugging barry’s shirt back down. it’s a lost cause, the shirt, but rafe appreciates the gesture anyway.

“it’s good to know you care about someone other than yourself,” pope says, finally turning towards rafe and giving him a hard look. “maybe there’s hope for assholes like you after all.”

rafe opens his mouth to say something bitchy back, but pope just claps him on the shoulder, stands and cracks his back, then leaves the room.

it’s just rafe and a passed out barry now. at least this way he can openly worry about his boyfriend, gnawing on his lip as he thinks about what it’ll be like if barry doesn’t make it.

rafe has been living with barry for some time now, ever since ward kicked him out. it’d started with sarah - she’d ran away and no one had known where. rafe ended up finding out through topper, but never seemed to get around to telling ward. don’t ask him why - he really doesn’t fucking know.

after sarah’s disappearance, ward’s temper reached its peak and rafe was kicked out mere weeks after his sister had gone missing. he stayed with topper for a while at first, often making trips to the cut to harass the dirty pogues who’d whisked his sister away from their supposedly happy family and her happy relationship with one of rafe’s closest friends.

when topper’s mother got sick of rafe loitering around her house, the only place left to go was barry’s. it’d helped that they’d already been screwing around for a while, initially so rafe could get discounts on coke, then turning into a full blown something over time.

their relationship has a definition now. barry had manhandled rafe into bed one evening and declared them to be officially official. meaning a relationship, meaning a bunch of figuring shit out as he goes because rafe sure as shit has never done any of this before.

he’s also pretty sure other relationships don’t involve hard drugs and robberies and shootings, so he thinks he’s got a few more obstacles to overcome than most when traveling the rocky road of a first relationship.

“rafe?” sarah calls, suddenly re-entering the room. “think we can talk now?”

rafe looks at her for a long moment. she looks different - happier, maybe? rafe wonders if he looks the same. maybe not right at this moment, with barry’s limp, clammy hand resting between his own, waiting on bated breath for barry’s eyes to blink open.

the need to hear barry’s slow drawl of coUnTrY cLUuUb is almost too much to bear, so rafe cuts his line of thought off, nods at sarah in answer to her question, and follows her outside.

they don’t talk for a long while, just staring out across the yard in silence. it’s not uncomfortable, per se, but rafe still wishes she’d say what she wants to say so he can get back inside. back to barry.

“this is a one time deal, you know,” sarah finally tells him.

when he looks at her from the corner of his eye, she’s staring directly at him, her expression serious. “i know,” is all he can come up with.

“i expect a thank you, just so you know.”

“i’m not thanking you,” rafe says immediately.

sarah actually smiles, just a little bit, then parrots back, “i know.”

“what did you want to talk to me about?” rafe asks eventually, pulling a cigarette from the pack he keeps in his pocket and lighting up.

sarah doesn’t answer for a moment, then shrugs, looking down at her hands. “i hate you, for the way you’ve treated me. and my friends. but sometimes i miss you. i miss my brother. what happened to you?”

it’s almost like she’s just thinking aloud, but rafe knows it’s a genuine question. one he doesn’t have an answer to. because he doesn’t really know where he went wrong - just that he could never seem to get anything right. not as a kid, not as a teenager, and not now as an adult.

“i don’t know,” rafe answers honestly, for the first time in a long time. he doesn’t know what else to say, so he tells her, simply, “but thank you for helping anyway.”

yeah, yeah. he wasn’t going to thank her, blah blah blah. whatever, shit happens.

the back door swings open, and rafe and sarah turn to watch barry stumble out of the house, still clutching his side but finally looking like a living, breathing person instead of a corpse.

“ain’t i tell you them things gonna rot your lungs?” is the first thing he says, plucking the cigarette from rafe’s lips and taking a drag.

rafe rolls his eyes, but lets barry rope him into a hug, careful not to bump into his wound.

“ugh, gross,” sarah huffs, making fake gagging noises before going back inside. rafe doesn’t miss the small smile that’s playing on her lips, though, and he’s suddenly filled with warmth.

it’s disgusting, and he’s surprised that he’s missed it. and that maybe, deep down, he’s missed his sister, too.

she said this is a one time deal, but maybe there’s a possibility of reconciliation. it’s a thought to revisit at a later date, rafe decides, wanting to focus on this moment right here, where barry is blessedly alive and safe.

so rafe just leans down a bit and buries his face in barry’s neck, taking a deep breath, feeling barry inhale and exhale around his cigarette as they stand in each other’s arms, companionable silence falling around them.

“you done saved my life, country club,” barry says, the first to break the silence.

rafe smiles against barry’s neck at the nickname, pressing a kiss to barry’s pulse point before pulling back a bit to look at him.

“yeah, you’re the only one who knows how to empty the septic tank,” rafe replies, deadpan.

barry throws his head back and laughs, one hand coming up to cradle the back of rafe’s head, pulling him down gently so he can press a kiss to his forehead.

“damn good thing you saved my ass, then.”

“sure is.”

when barry kisses rafe, he tastes like tobacco and blood, sour and metallic on his tongue. rafe should think it’s gross, but he just kisses barry harder, trying to scrub all the thoughts he’d had about barry dying from his memory.

it helps to have barry here, real and solid in rafe’s arms, lips soft against his own.

“can we get outta this shithole and back to our shithole?” barry asks when they separate, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “‘m pretty sure them shits would object to us christening their couch.”

rafe, for a moment, is tempted to try just to see what kind of reaction he’d get. but instead of following the urge, he lets barry guide him back to topper’s stolen car.

“who’s ride is this?” barry asks when they’re both buckled in, backing away from the routledge property.

“topper’s,” rafe explains, smirking to himself. “i, uh. borrowed it for the time being.”

“for the time being?” barry questions, and when rafe looks at him, barry is looking right back, brows raised and amusement written all over his face.

“mhm,” rafe confirms, matter-of-factly.

barry just glances around the car, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. “sweet ride. think ol’ topper’d object to a little christening, too?”

rafe starts the car, letting his own smirk grow. “as a matter of fact, i think he would.”

barry blinks at him, then stares at his nails casually.

“so where we gonna park her?”

rafe just smiles, peeling away from the routledge house, cruising into the night.

“i know just the place.”

#rafebarry #outer banks #okay so the place they park and (redacted) is literally the figure 8 country club #also this leans more towards fanon!rafe and somehow both follows canon and doesnt #it’s all over the place tbh #lastly hope u all can spot the jjpope crumbs 🥰#my fics #ask #anon

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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years

Note

Hi! I'm wondering if you can make a list of fics where Erik's jewish heritage isn't ignored? I just came across the fact that a lot of authors don't explore this part of him for some reason and i found it kinda upsetting so i'm wondering if you have any recs! I liked "As They Kiss, Consume" and "Who Shall be King Hereafter" by sherwoodfox, in case anyone who's reading this ask is interested in the same topic.

Hi Anon. I'm sorry for taking so long with this list but your request sent me on a wide search for fics that fit with your request. I tried to find a variety of fics where Erik's Jewish heritage is addressed. Some of them aren't necessarily cherik, but most of them are. I hope you enjoy this list.

Mistletoe, Latkes, and Long-Term Revenge Strategies – pocky_slash

Summary: Charles knows that Erik hates working at a department store in the best of times. Being Jewish in a department store during the holiday season is far from the best of times. He does what he can to help.

A Nice Boy (the Family Matters Edition) – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik's not sure whether the problem is that he doesn't want his parents to meet Charles or that he doesn't want Charles to meet his parents. Either way, he never invites Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.

A Road Trip to Pennsylvania – Aainiouu

Summary: For a year Charles has nurtured the biggest and most embarrassing crush known to man towards Erik. They are friends and roommates and when Erik asks Charles to accompany him to home on Thanksgiving of course Charles goes.

In the Bleak Midwinter – keire_ke

Summary: It is not easy to find out, well into the second decade of the twenty-first century, that your mother arranged a marriage for you. It is even less easy to convince her that you have no interest in the very fertile Magda, she of the wide hips and lustrous auburn hair. Fortunately, with a good friend at his side over the holiday weekend, Erik is sure he will prevail.

Speech Making – phalangine

Summary: Modern Emma AU- Charles Xavier, accomplished matchmaker and headmaster of North America’s preeminent school for mutants, intends to add another notch to his belt: setting up his friend Moira. His oldest friend, Erik, has doubts about this plan.

Charles doesn’t share them.

This is life (and everything’s all right) – pocky_slash

Summary: Edie Lehnsherr came into Charles' life long before he ever heard Erik Lehnsherr's name, and her death left a gaping hole in the lives of everyone in Charles' family. As the first Purim without her approaches, he begins to get creative in his efforts to bring everyone out of their grief. Kitchen creativity, however, is not quite his strength....

Bashert – AvengingAngel

Summary: Erik and Charles meet and fall in love. I wanted to write a story where Erik had a huge family. Pretty fluffy (for me anyways). I suck at summaries.

Note: The summary doesn’t reveal much but if you’re looking for a fic where Erik is jewish and has a large family with a heavy dose of cherik fluff and angst then this one is for you.

Math Reasons – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: "Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.

Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.

Ser

It’s kind of our whole things – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: After two years of best friendship, Charles and Erik thought they knew everything there was to know about each other. They're surprised, then, when their first summer as a couple reveals that they have a lot to learn about each other and themselves.

Sequel to Math Reasons

A Winter in New York – nextraordinaire

Summary: Charles and Erik have been childhood friends for as long as they can remember – Erik, living with his mother in Queens, and Charles in the big mansion in Westchester. For all, expect themselves, it was just natural progression that they'd end up together.

A series of ficlets from the same universe – can be read as separate and are out of chronological order.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside – heyjupiter

Summary: "It's just, this is my first Chanukah away from my parents. And it's--it's like 90 degrees out."

Erik Lehnsherr and Kitty Pryde celebrate a Genoshan Chanukah. It's a little different from the way it used to be in New York, but some unexpected visitors help them embrace the spirit of the holiday season.

Hold Back the Rain (front!strict mashup) – euphorbic

Summary: Charles Xavier: society darling, powerful political activist, well-known professor, and Dominant.

Erik Lehnsherr: anti-social, international motorcycle racer, and defiant submissive.

Erik is at Sepang in Malaysia for the fourteenth leg of the International World Championship. After doing poorly in qualifying, he's furious to find he has to take another VIP around the track instead of meeting Charles at the KL airport.

The Swan – waitfornight

Summary: In 1939 Erik and his sister Ruth are sent to Devonshire, England, during the Kindertransport refugee program to live with Kurt and Sharon Marko as foster children just before the start of World War II. Angry and wishing he could return home on the night of his seventeenth birthday, Erik meets a boy alone in the forest who is cursed to transform each day into a swan, only taking his true form by night.

Swan Lake AU.

The boy with the heart on his sleeve – euphorbic

Summary: Charles loses a high-stakes bet to Raven and is required to get a tattoo. However, when he makes a disparaging remark about the art form, Raven's acerbic mentor, Erik, steps in.

Or, the one where Erik and Raven are tattoo artists.

The Wurst Case Scenario – sareyen

Summary:If anyone asked why Charles, come rain, wind or shine, made the significant trek during his dismal lunch hour to dine at "Edie's Kosher Delicatessen", he would stubbornly say that it was because their pastrami on rye and potato knishes were absolutely to die for. He wasn't completely lying, because the deli's namesake, Edie Lehnsherr, made the best matzah ball soup Charles has ever had in his life. Still, Charles would rather shave his full head of hair off than admit that the real reason he would willingly walk through hail and fire to get to the corner deli was because of Erik, the insanely attractive man working the counter.

Sure, Erik has barely spoken two words to Charles other than "Hello, what can I get you?" or, after the third day in a row that Charles came to the deli, "Welcome back, what can I get you?", but Charles was more than happy to just ogle at the man from afar while devouring the juicy wurst Erik had put together with his (large and very capable) hands.

But, little does Charles know, Erik doesn't usually work the front counter. He only does it when he knows the cute blue-eyed man will be dining in.

This is life (and everything’s all right) – pocky_slash

c'est regarder ensemble dans la même direction – melonbutterfly

Summary: Since that day on the beach, Charles and Erik have learned to agree to disagree for the sake of living and working together. Then, for Christmas, and Charles gives Erik Hanukkah back a second time, and their relationship shifts a little further.

Terrible Hanukkah Sweaters and Other Life Challenges – professor

Summary: “Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Shrapnel – librata

Summary: It's late 1940, and tensions between the Axis and the Allies are tightening. Displaced and alone, 16-year-old German Jew Erik Lehnsherr finds himself employed as a servant by some snobby, terrible family in England whose house is far too big and whose money never seems to end. The worst part is, he isn't just mucking stables or cleaning plates–-he's tasked with tending to the whiny, disabled son named Charles, who might just drive Erik into absolute madness.

Or, the World War II fic in which Erik and Charles experience a changing world and a lot of teen angst.

Defying Expectations – Baamon5evr

Summary: Charles and Erik meet each other’s family. Neither of them gets what they expect.

table for three – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik should have known to call ahead to the Chinese restaurant--it's Christmas Eve and he lives in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood, after all. But before he can go home to mourn the loss of another one of his mother's yearly traditions, he's accosted by a teenage girl with a strange proposition--that he should stay and have dinner with her and her mother, instead.

different from all other nights – metonymy

Summary: "This year we are slaves; next year we will be free." Kitty and Erik host a seder for Passover at the Xavier School.

Libertad – ariadnes_string

Summary: Erik knew the look, had seen it his whole life, even before the war. ”You, with your height and blue eyes and straight nose, you can pass. You can be free of us. You are not marked with your difference.” If you only knew, he’d thought then. He thought the same thing now. And it was that thought, as much as anything, that made him move towards the gate.

Wash Away – sebastian2017

Summary: One quiet, lonely morning, before Yom Kippur, Erik makes his way to the sea in search of forgiveness.

After? There is No ‘After’ – Unrepentant_Marvelist

Summary: Erik knows what he is for. He has known his responsibilities as a survivor since the moment he woke under a scratchy, lice-infested blanket in the Red Army hospital. His world is painted in lucid blacks and whites (so often splashed in red) and there is no room for uncertainty or indecision... until a certain sunburned Englishman throws himself into his world.

The Children of an Idle Brain – Margo_Kim

Summary: Sometimes, when he’s lucky, Schmidt can’t hurt him. It’s like there’s a room inside of Erik’s head that’s he’s usually locked out of, that won’t open no matter if he beats himself bloody against it. On those days, he endures. But sometimes—and Erik doesn’t know why, whether it’s that the stars align or some higher power takes pity or Erik screams loud enough to earn his reward—the door opens. Erik can duck inside and slam it behind him and watches himself through the windows as Schmidt slowly, methodically tortures him to strength.

These days, this past week, there’s a boy in the room with him and he tells Erik, “That’s horrible,” like that means something.

Somehow, across the world, Erik's and Charles' minds touch when they need each other most. They can't be sure that the other boy is real. They suspect that he is not. But that doesn't mean they aren't each other's lifeline until they lose each other and then for a while longer.

Tehillim – kvikindi

Summary: Erik, in Israel, afterwards: another life he could have had. If.

I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) – childishinquiry

Summary: Erik has worn long sleeves his whole life, even before they had to wear yellow stars. Marching along his arm, in neat, black, English letters, are the words "My name's Charles Xavier."

Precious Few Years – sherwoodfox

Summary: Erik and Charles (known only to each other by the letters inscribed on their wrists) are meant to be together, soulmates, destined for the most powerful kind of love and connection a human being can experience.

But they are separated in almost every possible way- by distance, by circumstance, by language, by war. Their chances of success- of finding one another in the labyrinth of the world- are very slim. There is a reason why most people never find their soulmates.

But of course, Charles and Erik aren't ordinary children-

They have their gifts.

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #Erik is Jewish #holocaust #asks #earnestly answers

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lovee-infected · 3 years

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hi! could i see your insights about ace? i saw a anon say from another blog that kinda has unrealistic expectations in a relationship and it kinda stuck with me. i mean in his ghost marriage he already knows the things he wants in a partner but he didn't show guilt about dumping his girlfriend, even. i think if you date him because he sees these quality in you and as the relationship last, he'll dump you if you get boring to him lol

I never thought that I'd say this but, wow, I'm impressed. I've been really curious about Ace since I get to see a variety of different content with different representations of his personality, so I decided to stick with his canon stories and lines. This analysis was so much fun to write and I'd assure you all that not only Ace but rather all of the first year characters are WAY more than they seem to be! Many just decide to ignore them and pass away, calling them good boys or precious stupid beanies at first.

Speaking of Ace, we've all seen how trending he's been recently. Many theories, thoughts and new arguments exist through the fandom as many want to get to know this boy better.

Theories like "Ace's betrayal theory" as well have been mentioned a lot lately, some agree and some disagree. While we aren't going to talk about that theory or any other theories in this analysis, I'd like to take time to talk about the reasons why those theories might seem appealing and accurate. In other words, we're going to talk about where they are coming from!

1) Ace is incredibly smart and brave

It's true that characters like Jade or Azul's remarkable genius often stands out as it's clearly visible through their presence in the game, from iconic decisions to stunning strategies. But what we need to realize is how characters like Ace can be just as inspiring while their true intelligence is often shallowed by extras and giving them much of a dumb picture in the game.

To begin with, let us note that Ace's brother himself was one of the considerably strong magicians in Heartslabyul's history and even his presence through the magicshift is still remarkable even though years has passed. As the second child of the family, Ace's change to achieve success is even higher than his brother's as he already has a role model he really looks up to, so in that point Ace isn't one to underestimate. But, let me point that his relationship with his brother also contains lots of jealousy and sometimes negativity. His brother was one to always trick Ace and he continues to do so even nowadays! Ace on the other hand doesn't enjoy being pissed off over and over even as he's used to it. Well, we can say that it's another reason for him to train his hardest and become a greater magician than his brother therefore he won't be the bully material of the Trappola household anymore.

Regardless of how effective his brother might've been on him, Ace himself has shown plenty of strong hints that reveal not only his high IQ but also EQ:

He can solve math problems in second, which is a rather important feature to note because the way you deal with math can directly effect the way you deal with life. Not saying that one has to be great at math to be great at something else but it's rather about the perspective and ability of logical thinking that it gives to one. I'd say that this effect is quite visible if you take a look at the way he speaks in serious situations; he's got much of an analytical brain. Let's not forget that Cater as well confirmed that he's much of a skill stealer, is pretty good at remembering things and is a quick thinker! These are go on to show how much of an underestimated genius he is.

Whenever something goes wrong, Ace would be the first one to notice it even if it's a silly matter. And it always begins with a seemingly childish argument, but ends incrucial matters that not a single soul had noticed before! Just take a look at chapter one, what would've happened if Ace hadn't spoken up? He was just one of the hundreds of students having to be severely punished under Riddle's strict rules and he surely wasn't the first one to go through this. Him taking the urge to fight Riddle sounded stupid and naïve at first, many even told him off because he was just acting like a pissed off child. But as he continued to argue and oppose toward Riddle's way as a leader, even Trey realized how he's been keeping his eye shut on all this problems for so long. The way Ace stood against Trey was iconic, he confidently defended his point not by his personal demands and feelings but with facts and logical comments on why Trey's way of threatening Riddle is wrong. He did the same thing again at he ghost marriage, just think of it! Not a single soul ever cared to tell the bride about true love but Ace was there, and he was the one and only to do this after more than 500 years of the bride's existence! This Ace, this serious and mature face of Ace is something that can surely fascinate anyone. His bravery, the way he puts all that strength through words, hisextremely logical point of view and his enthusiasm to solve the problems no matter how unimportant they seem to be is indeed appreciatble. Seriously though, what would've happened to Riddle is Ace wasn't there? When Ace firstly begun to oppose to him, everyone thought that is was just a childish argument. They had no idea how severe and destructive Riddle's temper issues were and how harmful they were down inside.

2) He's one of the dumbest characters in the whole game

You know what? He is dumb. Yes he's incredibly smart but this isn't going to change the fact that he is dumb as hell, so I'm never going to argue when someone's nagging on how much of an idiot he is. But most importantly, we need to know what's making him so dumb:

His presence through the stories has proved that Ace is eventually pretty good at detecting the main source of problems both on the mental and physical side. He was the first to realize Riddle's issues, Trey's huge mistake with Riddle, Ghost bride's unawareness and Epel's gloomy and sad aura in chapter 4. Ace's also one to easily tell whether what someone is doing is wrong or not, he can see through people and bring their mistakes to their attention. The problem is... he can't be quite the same with himself. That's what makes him awfully dumb.

Back in chapter one, he did have a point about Riddle's way of leadership being so unfair and messed up, but when he decided to challenge Riddle and even take his place as the dorm leader he was a total idiot who didn't how weak and unpractical his own magic was, he was being too dramatic. When he talked about his ex girlfriend, he just talked about how she held him back from doing what he wanted and was too uncool to spend time with, but he didn't mention a single thing about himself doing anything wrong in that relationship. He often fails to realize that he's got his own incompleteness and lacks just like anyone else, or prefers to put an blind eye to them most of the time (not all of the time)

Ace sets the perfect goals, but chooses the wrong path to achieve them. He needs to realize that just like everyone else, he can be sometimes wrong. He should take his time to get to know himself better; his abilities, his attitude, his faults and his mistakes and learn to be more patient and logical in order to achieve his goals. He's still young an inexperienced, by learning to put that brilliance of him into the perfect use he'd be able to become the great magician he wishes to be, and I'd say that in case that he continues to grow stronger and smarter, he'll have a high chance of being hesrtslabyul's next dorm leader!

3) He legit wants to be the "Ace"

This part's more of an attempt to do a name analyis and see how much it's been effective on Ace's personality. It actually makes a lot of snese since the word "Ace" itself has several meanings, and he used these different terms quite a few times in his personal stories. This point would also be explained in part (4) so for now, let's take a look at direct name definitions:

First of, remember what what an Ace is in a card game? "A playing card with a simple spot on it, ranked as the highest card in its suit" This goes on to tell us a lot, it's telling us what an Ace is. A loner yet the most powerful one of its own, just like how Ace wants to be.

Wanting to be an actuall Ace is definitely one of the things that sometimes makes Ace sound so jerky and he's aware of it! If you give it a closer look, you'll see that Ace doesn't really treat his friends like friends, especially with Deuce and Grim. He's often insulting or challenging them, and even during his birthday SSR when MC asked him about what he thinks of each of other first years (Who are basically his closest friends) he mainly criticized them and all, not a single word was said about things he likes about them and he didn't even call any of them his friend!

Well that's much of a jerky attitude to have toward people whom you spend almost all of your time with, especially your best of time.

He to play the role of the bad guy, the type to hang out with everyone without feeling any attached to them as even friends. Seems like our boy is trying to be a loner, a true Ace of cards and hearts. And he doesn't mind his friends calling him a bastard or jerk because of this. It's even confirmed that he's more of the popular guy type therefore he's mainly used to having people around!

On the other hand, he's trying his best to achieve success no matter what the obstacles are. It's true that he often messes up and fails, but we cannot say that he isn't trying. He almost lost his head for real during his SSR story where Riddle's favorite hedgehogs were lost because of Ace's impatience, but at last with the help of monsieur Rook and his own ability to imitate Rook's mole language skills Ace saved his neck one more time, and ended his story with a dramatic "Of course, I always Ace it!"

4) Ace does care, but pretends that he does not

In contrast to the fact that he wants to sound tricky,manipulative and mean, or how he's denying his friends' true worth to him like stated in part (3), Ace is probably one of the most caring and supportive characters in the game. Not saying that he's just as bright as someone like Kalim, but his way of seeing through people and wishing them to be better, wealthier and happier than they already are is surely something. This fact is often ignored because, well...everyone's too busy calling him either dumb or sus/ jk!

Just imagine having a friend or at least, a classmate you know like Ace. How's he supposed to be? He'd realize it when someone's bullying/bothering/ or intentionally harming you, and he isn't going to be silent about it. If you see that you're permanently sad, angry, rude or loud then again he'd speak up, he isn't going to just pull up with anyone's unhealthy habit like nothing's happened. He's got much of a big brain as well so you should expect him to say a bunch of helpful and meaningful stuff when he's using that brain, mainly in serious situations. He may not be a permanently mutual to have around, but when the troubles arrive, know that having Ace around is always an advantage.

To top it off, he's even shown sympathy toward people whom he seemed to like the least at first like Riddle; he wishes Riddle to be happier, to smile more, to be more open about his emotions with other students. At some point he even admits that he looks up to him, he used to overestimate his powers and challenged Riddle, but during the ghost marriage he said that he knows how powerful and strong Riddle is, therefore he should work his hardest to study and train to become strong just like him! He already seems to be more cheerful and bright when MC is talking to him, but when it comes to Grim and Deuce...it gets quite complicated. What we see the most is often Ace insulting them or saying that he's going to kick their asses, but they're also his closest friends all though he refuses to admit to it.

Just wait for Deuce or Grim to get in a serious danger or pain, and see how much of a protective one Ace can be! He isn't going to remain silent when one is in danger, but he's surely going to deny all that effort and affection he gave into action afterwards. When Ace can feel this cautious and understanding toward Riddle, someone who isn't even a friend of his then imagine how supportive and caring he would be toward his close friends like Deuce, MC and Grim!

In his ghost marriage as well, his words and the way he spoke of the meaning of true love left everyone, even Crowley, impressed (Crowley even said that he's fallen in love with this side of Ace's personality), but refused to admit that he was speaking of his true feelings after the ceremony. Someone like Grim is too bold to recognize how much of a different person Ace can be inside, so he claimed that Ace was just rambling nonsense without thinking of what he was saying back then, and Ace agreed with him! This is a continuation to part (3) where we talked about how he wants to be a loner, he doesn't want anyone to see how caring and sometimes, emotional he can be inside! Poor boy is quite shy showing his true feelings we can tell~

5) Ace can be quite tricky and manipulative

This part will also explain some of the main reasons behind famous theories like "Ace's betrayal theory", and I wanted to have a certain part to talk about this point specifically because it's been quite trending through the whole fandom, and many are wondering why theorizers are considering his betrayal a possibility, so here we go!

As said, one of the main factors the makes Ace seem suspicious would be his incredible intelligence. The fact that he can actually be that smart all the time but isn't openly showing his talents and abilities can be quite questionable, more details regarding his intelligence and most likely high IQ and EQ were discussed in part (1)!

Enough with intelligence, let's focus on his personality! This is mainly what this part is talking about, his trickiness. Just like his father and older brother, Ace is pretty good with magic tricks. Small and fun tricks are a convenient yet easy ways to inspire others and Ace doesn't mind showing the crowd what he's got up in sleeve when possible. But the thing is...this isn't just about fancy tricks.

This ability can be expanded into any other field such as mental terms and enable him to indirectly control and play with one's mind. That's more of a possibility though! He hasn't yet shown any signs of being any manipulative but, well, we can't say that it's beyond his abilities. Ace himself can be quite sarcastic and mean at the time, he doesn't seem to mind slightly tricking his friends either. Nothing about him seems to be serious, but the possibilities remain still.

The way he learnt those tricks as well is mentionable; no one ever teached himm any of those tricks, he learnt them through being repeatedly tricked, and learning to copy and redo what he saw. Both Rook and Cater so far have confirmed that Ace's ability to learn so quickly and learn and redo techniques just by watching them is fantastic.

His genius and ability to learn and memorize everything that he needs to learn pretty fast, along side his tricky and sometimes personality can make Ace quite dangerous. If someone like him decides to choose such a remarkable talent for evil purposes, that's surely going to be bad news. That's much and less of what makes Ace's betrayal theory make sense although there're still fans who find it quite questionable. I'm not a supporter of this theory myself as I hadn't seen any signs of Ace having any bad intentions so far, but I do get where the theorizers are coming from and that makes sense. Ace has been trying to put on much of a mean and lowkey evil face on through the story and no one can really say what's exactly going on in that brain. We'll that about this uncertainty in part (7)!

6) His past relationship was...uh

For now, Ace is the only character who is confirmed to have experience in love and relationships, and this was a rather effective factor since many have been talking about Ace's past relationship afterwards. The thing is...Ace did talk about how his girlfriend held him back from having fun and living the life he wanted to live. Well there's actually a lot we should say about this one so I'm not gonna rush to the end, let's think about all of the aspects of this situation logically:

First of, the relationship itself. I'd say that it was a wrong attempt for them to date each other in the first place because obviously, Ace and his girlfriend weren't made for each other. They were total opposites in interests and they couldn't even have fun together. If Ace chose to go on a wild roller coater ride, the girl would've freaked out and when she chose a small, childish ride that she liked Ace instead didn't enjoy it at all. It's surely an issue when you and your partner can't even watch a movie which both of you can enjoy together since their tastes were totally different, just jow was this relationship going to last? Ace wasn't happy, and if he was going to do what made him happy the girl in return would've been sad. They were two different people of two different points, dating at this point was nothing but a mistake.

On the other hand, Ace as well is guilty. First off, she shouldn't have dated the girl in the first place if he was aware of how different her tastes were. Second, from what he said he never showed any signs of dissatisfaction when he had to give up on what he liked to listen to what the girl friend liked. The girl friend obviously told him that she was scared of a horror movie, but Ace just kept his mouth shut and felt awfully annoyed as he watched a romance movie with her while he didn't like it at all. If he'd at least told her girlfriend about this, she wouldn't have felt as injured and cheated when Ace broke up with her. Ace shouldn't have bottled it up, he deserved to enjoy the relationship just as much as the girl did. He shouldn't have expected things to get any better if he wasn't going to solve anything about it in the first place. If he'd talked about his personal desires and favorites as well, and had his uncomfortableness with most of the girl's choices discussed before hand, there could've been a chance of them coming into a conclusion and even not breaking up! The girl could've tried to be braver for him, and Ace could've agreed to be softer because of her. There would've been a HUGE difference if they'd talked about it logically.

Also, keep this in mind that the girl had no idea about Ace's uncomfortableness which was low key naïve of her (It's not cool when you don't even realize that your boyfriend doesn't like something) but this also made him awfully unprepared for a break up! Ace should've st least talked about his feelings and how he was unable to continue that relationship with her instead of just dropping her out of nowhere. That would've also decreased the chance of having to deal with the girl's friends after wards!

Finally, let's say that this relationship was wrong in too many aspects. They weren't each other's type, and we can't really blame Ace for dropping someone whom he couldn't be happy with. The main of being in a relationship is spending time with someone whom you can enjoy your time with. He as well was guilty because he can't just drop the girl like he just didn't care and had gotten tired of her while he had his own reasons for dropping her, he should've let the girl know that it wasn't necessarily her fault, it was about Ace not being able to relate to her tastes and habits.

Also, let's be honest. Not much is expected when a 15 year old is dating. Being in a relationship is an awfully sensitive and important choice and someone like Ace hasn't reached that level of maturity to be ready to date someone, let alone doing it at his 15s! Honestly... they should've learnt a lot before dating each other because it isn't a silly thing. Dating like this is nothing but playing around for a while for fun, it's a childish game of spending some time together until they break up.

For now, Ace is finds love quite silly and meaningless so we can clearly see that his past relationship has pissed him off. Well Ace needs to realize that his relationship with his ex wasn't a serious one, so it's normal for it to seem unimportant and silly. He needs to learn a lot without dating someone again, such as knowing how crucial it is to make sure that his hobbies would match his partners, to make sure tjat they get along, and simply, he needs to find his own type! Not all people are made for each other, and he isn't supposed to fall for anyone with any possible personality that pops up on his way.

Also, I'd say that he still needs to focus on studying instead of dating. He needs to reach the required level of maturity to be ready to start a healthy and successful relationship again. Also, he might end up being totally different from what we've seen about him being in a relationship do far when he grows up! Idealistics do change a lot olin teenagehood.

7) We need to talk about our first years a lot more!!!

This point isn't just about him, but rather all of the first years! If I were to rate the most ignored and shallowed personalities of twst, the first years should've gone on the top of this list. Even when we're speaking of the mischaracterized characters of the game, many consider Ace and Deuce to be the least mischaracterized while they happen to be the most mischaracterized as no one evencares to see through them and feel like we aren't mischaracterizing them just because we're ignoring them! Come on guys, Ace's design and personality is a lot more complicated and harder to read than characters like Vil and even Leona!

Out of all first years Sebek was the only one to get some proper shout outs so far but why isn't anyone talking about Ace and Deuce the way they deserve to be talked about? Their presence through the game is even more important than the dorm leaders as they are the closest characters to MC, and their personality design is just incredible, no just because of how perfectly detailed it is, but also because of giving them this unpredictability and incompleteness which totally matches their age!

Studies have shown that judging one's personality based on how they're doing at the age of 16 or younger is prettyhard and impossible, and it's a totally serious fact. At the age of 16, human's personality is under severe effects and changes until reaching it's final-developed shape. That's accurate toward almost all of the first years except Jack since he seems to have more of a mature personality.

NRC's first years are really complicated, especially a character like Ace. That why I said that we can't yet tell if he's a good guy or not, because at this level of life he can choose to be anything. He can be good, he can be bad, he can be neutral. That's why he's showing too much of opposite actions at the moment. One second he's being the biggest idiot in the whole world, the other second he's planning like a 50 year old genius. One second he's being protective over his friends, the other second he sighs and tells MC how annoying they are.

That's why Ace is hard to read, we can't tell what his true feelings are until he reaches the required mental stability to be judged as a mature and complete personality. 18 year olds like Vil have already reached that level of maturity and completeness, finding their unique magics as well is another sign of it. But our first years still need to learn and experience until they find their real selves, to see who they are.

This is one of the most adorable facts about their design because they really gave him this young and wild and incomplete nature to show that they're still young! This is quite incredible how careful Yana was to remember that they all needed some this childishness in their design, their designs are just as accurate and realistic as a real 16 year old's! They still need to learn, and that's why they're the closest ones to MC.

MC needs to learn and get to see more and more of this world, and so do the first years! They're just as unexperienced and new to this world, and they can relate to MC better than anyone else can!

So please, from now on, let's remember to talk about not only Ace, but also all of the first years more often. Ace and Deuce's designs especially are the most detailed and beautiful ones if you take time to know them better. Remember that after the 7 dorm leaders, Ace and Deuce's roles as the protagonist's closest allies are the most crucial in the game, so let's not just decide to ignore all these creative features and pass by them without thinking how much they can mean.

Woah, this one was quite harder to write than I'd expected! There are way too many things to say about him which made me have to summarize this into just this 7 parts for now. Ace is surely and odd yet interesting one to study, even more interesting than usually famous characters like Leona and Azul, which is partly because of how unpredictable he is!

#Twst #twisted wonderland #ace trappola #Ace trappola x reader #Character analysis #twst x reader

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