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mx-ryder · 4 months

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Some thoughts on Hazbin Hotel

I literally just watched HH this week, followed by binging Helluva Boss on YouTube right after. And my Dash is full of HH and HB stuff now. And the other day I saw someone posted their thoughts on the show, including one specific take that it falls right back under the typical "Sinners are bad but hey, we can fix them!" sort of trope. (I really don't know if I'll be able to find the post again, if I do, I'll reblog/link it here or something).

And hey, I'm not gonna argue that it doesn't, per se. I just think there's a bit more to it than that.

c.w for general religious trauma talk, SA mentions, drug use/abuse, alcohol use, addiction, gambling, probably other things I'm not thinking of

(Also please don't feel like you have to read this. It's literally just me rambling because I haven't been able to stop thinking about this topic all fucking day, so I wrote it down to get it out of my head. Obviously if you read it and want to comment/continue the discussion, feel free. Just please. Be respectful.)

Now.

All my thoughts on HH are very much colored by my past experiences with religion, US christianity, specifically. More specifically still, the sort of christianity that makes people believe that "home schooling" their kids, isolating and indoctrinating them away from anyone who might make them question it all, is the best course of action. I grew up bouncing from church to church, from home schooling co-op to co-op, all so my bio-mom could find the exact group to echo her own sentiments back at her.

Among the things I grew up believing were great ideas such as:

Sexuality is inherently disgusting, and something you should always be forcing down/avoiding/punishing yourself about. Masturbation, porn, sex before marriage, dressing "immodestly", and any sexuality outside of heterosexual were inherently evil and worthy of punishment. Sometimes that punishment was being assaulted, because really, she should've covered up, right? Girls, sometimes girls as young as 12-13 (if not younger) were villainized for wearing tank-tops and shorts, because they were causing the boys to stumble and immodesty was a moral failing on their part.

Drugs, alcohol, substances in general, are bad and wrong and using them, or heaven forbid becoming addicted, is a moral failing on your part. You are a bad person for consuming a drug, and therefore deserve to fall into addiction, houselessness, starvation, and/or abuse.

Poor people deserve it. Accepting help of any kind is leeching off good, hard-working people. Your worth as a person is directly tied to your ability to be a "productive member of society."

Any mental health issues are your fault, and are either because you don't believe in jesus hard enough, or because you're inherently broken and sinful and therefore unsaveable. There is no room for sympathy or empathy for anyone struggling.

There's a reason these are the same stereotypical archetypes you see in this sort of show. The queer sex-addict. The gambler. The "weirdo" who isn't like other people and enjoys "weird" things, or enjoys things "too much". Even just the party-girl character. Because these aren't just stereotypes. These are actual entire groups of people who are ostracized and vilified just for being who they were born to be, for making choices christians don't like, or for being sick.

And that brings me to Angel Dust. Who, by the way, I wish I could've been given a content warning about, because holy shit Ep 4 and Addict hit me really fucking hard. My friend recommended the show to me without having watched it, so I went in not expecting that sort of storyline to punch me in the gut out of nowhere.

Anyway! Angel Dust! Literally named after a drug. A gay porn star who flirts shamelessly with anyone and everyone, who proudly shows off his best films to his friends, who secretly hates his job, not because of the sex, as we come to find out, but because he's under the thumb of a fucking psycho who treats him like shit and actively physically, sexually, and mentally/emotionally abuses him. He's basically been trafficked, and hates that he doesn't have any say in what happens to him in front of the camera. It's a horrifying position to be in, and one that left me a little shaken up, tbf.

The take I'm mostly writing this based on is that Hazbin Hotel falls into the trite tropes of "rich white girl attempts to fix people who are below her" and specifically mentioned disappointment in how Charlie didn't try to argue that Angel Dust didn't deserve hell based only on his addiction or sexual past, but that she instead claimed that she could "fix him."

And I just . . . think that's a little bit of a black/white take.

For the first part, what would people rather she do? Put all her time, effort, influence, and power into trying her damnedest to help her people, who are being slaughtered by the thousands every year just because Adam is bored? Or sit at home and use all that time, effort, influence, and power to make rubber duckies like her father? She could just ignore everything going on, call it hopeless, give up, and ignore the suffering of her people. Would that be better? Would that satisfy this weird little "she's just a rich white girl with privilege" gripe?

Charlie is a rich girl. A princess. Someone with huge amounts of privilege, power, influence, etc. But you know what? She's also stuck in hell. She was born there, through no fault or choice of her own, and because of who her parents are, she is trapped in literal hell, with no hope of ever, ever ascending to heaven. She does not get a chance at redemption, because she was born to the wrong people. She is a young woman who was born into horrifying circumstances, living in a world that she frequently expresses disgust for (her frequent discomfort with sexuality, her disgust toward the cannibals, her dislike of violence, even necessary self-defense).

And she still loves her people and wants to see the best in them.

She would be completely justified in hating everything about hell, her life, the people around her, her parents, heaven, everything, really. She has every right to hate her entire existence, but she puts all that hatred for the system into her efforts to fucking do something about it. Why is that a bad thing, just because she was born into a position of power and authority??

And now on to Angel Dust.

Charlie never once makes a judgement call about Angel or his habits, his work, or his personality. She expresses discomfort with the sexual nature of his work (tbh wouldn't be surprised if she's a sex-repulsed ace), but she does not think he's a bad person because of his work. Nor does she think that he needs to stop doing his work in order to become a better/good person. When she tries to get him some time off, she's explicitly doing it because she wants him to have time to decompress and participate in activities at the hotel, not because she wants him doing less of his specific kind of work.

She never condemns his partying, either. She has a bar in her hotel! She defends him partying, right to heaven's face, because she knows everyone present has partied, everyone has enjoyed a drink with friends. There is no condemnation of his partying activities, and I don't think she ever makes it seem as though Angel needs fixing.

What I got out of that episode, watching Charlie passionately defending her friend in front of the worst fucking person in the universe, was that people do not need to be fixed, but some love and support can help them make better choices for themselves. Angel still has a good time. He still has his job (contract, y'know, but would probably be in the industry regardless). The only thing different about that particular night of partying is that he's out with people who care about him, and who he cares about.

Even Cherri, though she expresses some joking disappointment that he's spending so much time worrying about Nifty, doesn't actually seem that put out by it. She teases him a little, but leaves him to do his thing. And his thing is making sure his friend, who is less experienced at partying (and who is significantly smaller/more vulnerable than most other people), is safe and okay. His thing is defending his friends from an extremely dangerous person, at massive risk to his own personal safety.

And he didn't do any of this because he'd been "fixed" or because he'd "changed." He did it because, for possibly the first time ever, he has people around him who love and care for him, and who want the best for him. And who he loves and wants the best for in return. He said himself that he stays out of his mind on substances, allows himself to be drugged and assaulted, puts on this persona of care-free-crack-whore-who-only-thinks-about-sex, because he is trying everything in his power to dull the pain he's in. Because he doesn't believe he deserves any better.

And this, this is what Charlie is trying to show Heaven. She is trying to show them that there is nothing morally damning about alcohol consumption, or even drug use, sex work, or anything that makes Angel who he is. She's trying to show them that, with some love, care, and support, with a safe place to call home, with their base physical and emotional needs being met, people don't need to resort to the sort of destructive behavior heaven/Adam is condemning! People can choose to engage in these behaviors safely, consciously, and with people around them who want them to be safe and have a good time.

Then we get on to the idea that this entire episode ends on. Heaven doesn't know how people get there. They don't know what it takes to be "good enough" for heaven. Sera herself admits that Adam was just "the first soul in heaven," all but admitting that he's just there because he defaulted into it. (Though that does make me wonder, what about Abel? He would have died long before Adam, and considering how long Adam lived, and that there were plenty of other people around by the time he would have died, where were all those souls going??).

And Adam is the fucking worst! He is literally the worst, most selfish, violent, vulgar soul in the entire show, but he is allowed in heaven, for reasons no one even understands.

You know what the difference is between Adam and Angel?

Adam can't be fixed.

His behaviors are all destructive, not to himself, but to others. He insults, abuses, hurts, and kills with abandon. He made this weird, shitty deal with Hell and Lucifer because he wanted to murder innocent souls, because he was bored, and the rest of heaven doesn't even know about it. He has free reign to be an absolute piece of shit to everyone around him, damaging people left and right, and he will never face any sort of justice for it, because hey, he's already in heaven!

But Angel? Angel's behavior is all self-destructive. Again. He gets fucked up to dull his immense pain. He allows himself to be drugged and assaulted because he believes he deserves it. Because he's been told, for who knows how many thousands of years, that he's a whore anyway, so why shouldn't he be free to use for anyone who wants to take him? He has been beaten down, physically, emotionally, sexually, until he's a shell of a person who is struggling to find any reason to continue his shitty existence.

And he hurts only himself.

I mean, okay, he does piss off Husk sometimes, crosses boundaries/etc. But he and Husk pretty clearly fix that between themselves. There's no lasting damage there, and idk if anyone else noticed, but he stops that behavior pretty much entirely after that ep.

Angel is hurting. He is hollow, and hopeless, and trapped. And he does not need to be fixed, nor does Charlie ever attempt to do so.

All she does is reach out a hand, and say, "Hey, I see that you're struggling. This place is fucked up, isn't it? Maybe I can help."

Charlie is a flawed person. She takes her privilege for granted. She feels the immense weight of her choices, and the pressure of having taken responsibility for a people who may never want her help. She messes up, because somehow, she's endlessly cheerful and optimistic, despite her upbringing and the world she grew up in.

Charlie is flawed. But she's trying her fucking best. She isn't trying to fix. She's trying to help.

We all need some help, every now and then, don't we?

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hungry-skeleton · 8 months

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Thanks, appreciate your doc and help a lot!!! I'm pretty dumb so etiquette guides are always helpful.

I realized the questions I have were...quite a load but I'm sending these to you if you wanna continue your doc. Feel free to answer only a few of them or not answer them now!

Dividing content by blogs: I got a few main interests, and some minor interests. When is it a good idea to start a sideblog?

Adding a lot in a reblog: I ended up writing a long essay in my reblog. My contribution adds to the discussion but IDK if it's inconsiderate to post a whole essay to someone's post. Is that OK, or should I instead put it in a new post, put some context and tag the person?

Avoiding the flames: I'm often afraid of posting something for the fear of backlash - whether or not deserved. The options I know so far: a) Don't post it, b) Post it and accept whatever happens, c) Scroll down for 30 minutes in a dashboard or through tags to find out whether my take would be considered problematic or inflammatory. What's your take?

Attention: I heard it was OK to scroll down someone's blog but in one blog I seemed to have interacted with at least 30% of their posts, putting lots of comments along the way. Is that creepy or acceptable?

Anons: There's a few cool people I send a lot of anon asks to. Is it considered considerate or dumb if I eventually let them know that I've sent them a bunch of anons?

Followers, mutuals and the dashboard: I'm considering either visiting blogs individually or curating my dashboard. If I curate my dashboard and unfollow 200 people, that'll go against the "follow back" and "unfollow only if you dislike the person" viewpoints. Do people still have those mindset?

Edit: tumblr is such a functioning website sometimes the numbers on this post get broken lmao 😭😭😭😭

That's all up to you! Some people like to keep their blogs pristine and curated for certain things, others like to put all their stuff in one big pile of you (like me!) it all depends on how you want your blog to operate!

As long as it's relevant to the post it's absolutely okay to add a long addition, especially if you're teaching something! Most people love having some actual substance in their interactions so don't worry about that. But if you'd like to, you can add a "read more" divider so others don't have to scroll through your paragraphs if they don't want to :)

This is true for every place on the internet, it's honestly your call! Do whatever makes you comfortable, not much else I can say

Absolutely fine! We love interaction no matter the age of the post! Make sure you check their bio or pinned posts first though, most people are alright with "like spamming" but some aren't. Unless they say otherwise somewhere interact to your hearts content!

That's the beauty of anon, it's up to you how much you want to be known. Try not to pester people though, let bloggers get to your asks on their own time! If you'd like for them to know all your asks are from one person but without revealing they're from you, you can add an anon signature! It's a simple nickname to give yourself in the ask box to show that you're the same person. This could be as simple as saying "hey! It's me, (blank)anon again!" or a popular way of doing it is assigning your self an emoji to sign off your asks with! Example: "hope you're day is good! -💥anon"

Once again this is a "your call" situation. Curate your experience to your comfort. I will say though I'm following over 800 people and my dash is just fine lol. Tumblr users don't usually believe in the "follow for follow" system so don't feel bad for unfollowing someone for whatever reason

I hope that was helpful :)))

#The tumblr doc #an ask

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slientsounds-achive · 2 years

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Guidelines [for moblie]

Disclaimer

I do not own the rights to Soundwave, the Transformers franchise, it's characters or it's lore. The rights belong to the lovely people at Hasbro. However: My portayal, headcanons and the such are my own! I also create my own icons and graphics (banners for pages, post and such) and ask you to DO NOT steal and claim them for your own.

Other Notes (idk what to call this part lol)

This blog is, to a degree canon divergent where Prime's sequel; Robots in Disguise [RiD2015] is not canon to this blog. I will take some elements from the show in regard to Soundwave's portayal but anything post-Predacons Rising (which will also have some divergent elements of events changed) didn't happen. I also don't know EVERYTHING within the Aligned continuity (which Prime is a part of). I haven't played the War for Cybertron games or read any of the novels/comics (though I do know a bit about the events in Exodus. Just a tee bit) While this blog is mostly Prime/Aligned, I may add/take some elements from a few other continuies such as G1, IDW and Animated. This all being said:I do try to stay as close to canon as I can. I'll alter little things but overall I do try to say true to what I'm given to the lore.

Following

This is a side blog to @fatesyetunwritten, which plays as an OOC hub for the blogs connected to it. So obviously I cannot follow you with this blog but my main. Even though not necessary, I also recommend following my hub blog as well being that’s where most PSAs/OOC updates in regard to ALL my blogs will be posted. Personal blogs are free to follow, but I do ask you don’t comment/reblog/reply/etc to any IC threads or post. Same implies to post that say ”//DO NOT REBLOG” or -DO NOT REBLOG-” in the thread/tags. If any of these rules are broken I will block you! I won't even give you a second chance, you're out! If you are a personal and do have a sideblog, PLEASE contact me telling me so. I’m more than likely not going to know otherwise unless I followed you first and it’s noted. My IM/askbox is always open. If you need to contact me in anyway and (if we are mutuals) want to plot/scream about our muses/just talk/etc. Don’t feel shy to approach me. I love talking and meeting new friends.

Guidelines

I am selective and will only roleplay with mutuals. Just because you follow me doesn’t guarantee that I will back. I often look at the muse, content and mun beforehand before making up my decision in doing so. Do not force/guilt trip me into following you!! Putting aside it’s rude and selfish to do so, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT!! Muse doesn't equal Mun and vice versa. This should be obvious but sometimes people do confuse fantasy and reality. Please don't confuse the two. No Godmodding! This is standard fare I don’t think I have to elaborate more on that. If possible Please trim your post. I won’t get up on anyone's case about it if you don’t, but it’s considerute to do so. Keeps the dash clean. Also transfer ask to a new thread if you wish to contiune it. Same reasons as above: Keeps things clean and orgainzed. Don’t worry about formatting/using icons in your post! Just because I like to time to time doesn’t mean you have to follow suit. Write in whatever style that works for you. All I ask is that you use proper grammar and spelling, or at least enough for me to read your writing. I’m not perfect neither so don’t sweat it if you make a typo there and their.

Shipping and Relationships

Let’s get this out of the way:I’m a shameless shipping whore! I love shipping and building relationships. But I won't just jump onboard to a ship however Like most relationships, there needs to be Chemistry. If the two clash off each other well, we can discuss things further. Each ship (unless said otherwise) has it's own verse and not overlap with other ships... This doesn't just imply to romanatic ships! Friendships, kinships, hateships, YA name it!. As I said, I'm a ship whore. NOTE: I headcanon Soundwave as Asexual and Gray Romantic, if not full on Aromanatic so romamtic pairings likely won't happen on this blog unless the Chemistry is there. That being said, everything else applies. I’m also a fan of AUs! Give me some of those AUs bro!

Mature Content

Both me and my Muse are of age and won’t shy away from mature themes. All NSFW threads/ask/etc will be tagged as such, along with any triggers that need tagging. In worst cases, like a hard R (which is rare), I will put everything under a read more flither. Themes include, but not limited to: Violence, blood or/and gore, alcohol and drug use, depression/PTSD, abuse and (maybe?) sexual themes. The only things I will not roleplay are anything to do with rape, sexual assault, pedophila and/or incest. I do roleplay smut but it will Likely not happen on this blog! Even so: I will be extreamly selective on who I write with. I have to feel comfortable with the mun plus likely already have to have an establish ship going. I will, by no circumstance, roleplay sumt with minors!! NO ITS, NO BUTS! If I learn you are lying about your age, consider yourselfPermanently blocked with all threads deleted.

Who I’ll Interact With

Well, obviously I will roleplay with other Transformers characters, (Not limited to just Prime). I’ll roleplay with just about almost all fandoms. I am a bit more selective over fandoms I'm not too familiar with but that doesn't always mean my doors aren't closed neither. To put it simple: If a muse interests me, I'm more than likely on board. What is always the case however is that I will not, and I do mean WILL NOT roleplay with muses base off Youtube Let’s Players or any real life people WHAT SO EVER!! Sorry, I’m sure a good share of you are fantastic people, but it’s something I am simply against mortality. I’m open to roleplaying with OCs both fandom base and/or fandomless, but again, I’m still selective. I always check out the mun’s page before following and if I don’t see a bio for your OC, I will simply not follow. I can't interact with a character I know nothing about. Really, a good indication that I want to interact with you is if I follow you, either before or after you do.

And one final rule!

Have fun! =D

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years

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Knight in Shining Red Armor | Dante + Child!Reader (DMC 4)

A/N: Hey so this is a rewrite of one of my first (and only) DMC fic from like...2016. This takes place post-DMC 4

You can read the og one on my DeviantArt! But if you're here for the new one then I hope ya'll enjoy!

Summary: Child!Reader was taken under Dante's wing after being saved from a demon invasion, but even years later he hesitates to tell them what he truly is, fearing they'll resent him for his demonic heritage.

............

"Hey, um..Dante?"

"What's up, kiddo?" The red-clad devil hunter asked, though he wasn't completely paying attention to you. Rather he was sitting at his desk, feet kicked up as he was flipping through a magazine.

Meanwhile you were roaming around the shop, stopping only to gaze at the massive curved sword with glowing gems hanging on the wall behind him. He mentioned claiming many weapons--"Devil Arms" as they were called--from defeated demons, but you were curious about their names.

"Just wondering..what's that sword behind you called?"

"The Sparda. It sealed the barrier between the Underworld and human world. Nero went through hell and back, quite literally, to return it to me, so don't even think about touching......it?"

Dante put the magazine down as he turned to see you holding the Sparda in your small hands. You smiled triumphantly, but stumbled a bit before the blade accidentally slammed into the wooden floor, making you wince.

"Oops."

Yet your little act amused him, as he chuckled and shook his head. "You're a little too young to go devil-hunting, I'm afraid. But maybe one day you will."

"And maybe you can help pay off Dante's debt, too." Trish lightly joked as she entered the room, taking the giant sword from you and putting it back on the wall.

Her words were responded by a groan from the male, who went back to reading.

"Whatcha reading?"

Dante slowly lowered the magazine to see you sitting on his desk, but he just snapped it shut and tossed it into the trash, out of your line of sight. "Nothing that eyes like yours gotta see."

"Okay....ooooooh, what's this briefcase?" Hopping off the desk, you ran over to Pandora and crouched down to poke the skull emblem.

"Pandora. That baby can turn into six hundred and sixty six different weapons, but...right now we only have access to seven." Now he was feeling like an exhausted teacher on a museum trip, trying to explain each exhibit to his hyper first graders--the exhibits being his Devil Arms.

Yet as you ran around asking him about more of them, he couldn't help but see his childhood-self reflected in you. Just full of energy and never-ending curiosity and optimism.

Yeah..he definitely saw the resemblance.

Eventually you decided to leave him be and dash off to your room.

And only then did Dante drop his smile, sighing as he put both feet back on the ground. He ran a hand through his hair before dragging it down the side of his face tiredly.

"You know..you'll have to tell them eventually." Trish reminded.

"How, though? That kid's afraid of all demons..hybrids or not. I'm pretty sure saying "oh by the way the guy who rescued you is actually half-demon" is gonna send 'em running, and...I can't risk that." He shook his head, gazing at the jukebox in the corner.

"But I think [y/n]'s old enough to comprehend the concept of not all demons being evil," Lady chimed in after overhearing the conversation. "Just give it to them straight and I'm sure they'll understand."

As much as Dante wanted to argue, he saw that she had a valid point. But he still worried...

How would you react?

It's been a few years since he saved you from a Mega Scarecrow, though it turned out that more demons invaded your neighborhood, slaughtering everyone you knew and loved. And as he took you back to the shop to patch you up, he could see the terror in your eyes, any traces of innocence long gone.

No child should have gone through such a tragedy.

A tragedy that he was all-too familiar with.

After the defeat of the Savior, things have been looking up. You've regained your happiness as you lived in Devil May Cry and learned of Dante's tales of devil hunting, though the memories of that horrible night never truly left you alone.

Along with that, just seeing a demon is enough to make you run and hide, and you were terrified when you first met Nero and saw his demonic arm.

From that incident alone, Dante became extremely reluctant to tell you of his own demonic heritage.

He just didn't know if he's only hurting you more by keeping it hidden..

...............

Later that night, you were plagued by yet another nightmare. Different demons, same neighborhood...same deaths of your loved ones.

But in this one Dante got hurt, too. And you tried so hard to be brave for him, even shouting in the demon's face...but in the end you failed as it snatched you away, dragging you into the darkness of the Underworld before he could reach you.

Although you calmed down since awakening, you wanted to be sure he was alright.

So with what little moonlight shone in the shop's darkness, you located the worn sofa where Dante laid. He was engrossed in some TV program, though after sensing your presence his eyes flickered to you.

No words had to be exchanged in order for him to see what was wrong, as he sat up and patted the spot beside him. You smiled in relief and climbed onto the sofa, snuggling into his side as he wrapped an arm around you. "Th-Thanks, Dante."

"No prob. So uh..another nightmare, I guess?"

"Yeah, but..they hurt you, too and...I-I tried staying brave. I shouted at them to leave you alone and..they didn't listen. But...I think one of them looked scared of me."

"Wow." He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Gotta say I'm impressed."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Y'know demons are used to seeing kids scream and cry, not take a stand against them. Plus that's pretty epic of you to defend me, so thanks." With a smile, he ruffled your hair.

"You're welcome," you giggled a bit. "But..I really just wanna be as brave as you. I mean...Nero says you laugh at giant demons and tease them all the time. How do you do that without being scared?"

"Well..it comes with the business. Getting them riled up just makes the fight more fun. At least for me. You might think I'm crazy but if ya decide to hunt demons one day...you'll see what I mean."

"But until then, could I watch you fight one? Like a big bad one?"

"......."

"Dante?"

"..kid, there's a reason I never took you on any missions." Dante sighed, swallowing back the growing lump in his throat as he carefully planned his next words. "And how I always...bounce back from getting smacked by a demon tail. No human would be able to withstand that without some broken bones."

"Oh?" You tilted your head. "Then..how can you if you're human?"

"....because I'm not fully human."

As much as he wanted to shut up, he decided to tell you the truth once and for all, not sugarcoating anything:

He explained how his parents were a demon and human--a forbidden romance which resulted in himself and Virgil being born. His bloodline allowed them to blend in with humans, exercise their demonic abilities in battle, and even tap into their true demon forms.

All the while you listened silently, with not much emotion on your face. So it was hard for him to tell what you were probably thinking in this moment.

It scared him.

"...and that's it." He sighed, closing his eyes and looking away from you. "So go ahead and hate me if you want. I won't blame you for-"

"Can you show me?"

Dante blinked stupidly as he swung his head back towards you, wondering if he heard you right.

"I...wish you told me before, but I don't wanna be scared of demons anymore." You smiled a tiny bit as you elaborated. "Especially not one who helped me. So...can I see your other form?"

"...a-alright. Just...if you get scared I can turn back instantly, so don't freak."

"I won't."

He had doubts you'll keep your word, but he got up and activated his Devil Trigger form. As he opened his eyes, you gasped upon seeing how much they were glowing--being orange rather than blue. Red electric sparks danced around his metallic body as he observed you close, anticipating your reaction. He expected you to scream or cry.

Yet..there was only curiosity and wonder in your eyes.

"Scared yet?" He asked in his distorted voice, crouching down in front of you.

Not even the way he spoke startled you, as you just shook your head. "I was wrong all along..not all demons are bad."

"Not even this one?"

"Nope. You look awesome..like a knight in shiny red armor."

"...wow..I um...." For once, the talkative devil hunter was at loss for words. But when you learned forward to hug him around the neck, he was completely shocked.

Earlier in the day he thought of countless worse-case scenarios, and yet...the best-case was happening right now.

You were accepting him, hugging him even.

He couldn't believe it.

Dante smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, making sure his armor spikes didn't hurt you. "Thanks, kid. It really means a lot that you're not terrified anymore........[y/n]?" He was concerned about your lack of response, before realizing you were dozing off.

'Damn..I might make a pretty good dad, after all..' He mused, standing up and making the trek back to your bedroom. Then he set you down and tucked you in, relief and warmth in his heart.

He had a feeling that your nightmares won't be so bad anymore. Now he felt like he could truly protect you.

Why?

Because he was gonna be your knight in shining red armor.

"Jeez, man. Quit clanking around shit and---AH!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!"

"Shhhh! Chill out, Nero. You'll wake 'em." Dante was quick to shift back to his human form once he was outside your room, glaring at his nephew. "Why are you so freaked out? This ain't the first time you've seen my devil form."

"But still..why in the middle of the night?! Thought we had company."

"...just go back to bed, kid."

"Don't call me kid!"

#devil may cry x reader #dmc x reader #dmc 4 x reader #child reader #dante x reader #dmc dante x reader

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kaypeace21 · 3 years

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Rebel Robin podcast (ep 3 &4 analysis)

For those who haven’t read them yet. Here’s the analysis for podcast ep 1&2. Analysis of Rebel Robin book-here. And eastereggs from rebel robin novel- here.

So the main things I noticed in ep 3 was how Robin spying was shown as a huge NEGATIVE-and Mr Hauser got upset over her doing so. Robin listens to mr. Hauser’s phone call (like Karen with Mike in s3/ us gov spying on calls in s1) & on a different occasion Robin also eavesdrops on a private convo he is having with someone else in his classroom ( like El spying on Mike talking to Lucas in s3). And when he finds out about this he tells her how wrong it was to spy on other people like that. In the past, I also talked about how the theme of spying is shown for many other st characters ( in the show) and how it isn’t romanticized like people think it is- here .

Anyways , Ep 3 ends with a call from a h*mophobic teen( Dash) telling Robin to “stay away” from Mr. Hauser cause he’s “dangerous”. Why he thinks he’s dangerous is solely for the fact he’s gay.I think this theme may come into play in s4 Hawkins (in relation to the satanic panic). In ep 4 Robin jokes to (gay) Mr. Hauser : “ So what are you into... satanism?” (Sadly most queer people have been told over and over we’re going to hell for being gay/lgbt+. it’s sadly an almost universal experience.) For those unaware- the ‘satanic panic’ was a right wing christian movement in the 80′s that WRONGLY associated certain things with supposed satanism. Just some of the many things they demonized : rock music , stephen king , wearing black, horror/fantasy media, and of course queer people and d&d (hellfire club - the name is a a xmen ref but in the show it’s probably an inside joke about the satanic panic and people being scared of d&d). We see foreshadowing of the satanic panic hinted in s3 (in relation to d&d)- on tv the narrator asks if “satanism” (pans to d&d set) is to blame for the odd occurrances in Hawkins. And given how the s4 el-trailer had the clock say 3:00am for the “witching hour” also called “the devil’s hour” since it’s supposed to be a subversion of jesus dy*ing at 3:00 pm. And the possibility s4 may take place around Easter. I think we’ll see that religious (Christian) extre*sm causes many people in Hawkins to interpret the supernatural as ‘satanic’. And no , I’m obviously not talking poorly about all religious/christian people).

After this Mr. Hauser jokes how Hawkins is like “lord of the flies” and how he “worries” what would happen if teens were left to their own devices-like in the book. The themes in the book mostly focus on the dangers of ‘mob mentality’ and how human beings can become v*olent and turn on each other- if the safety of civilization disappears...

This I believe is foreshadowing - i mentioned in a post a while back (here). How movies on the s4 list had the theme of : a supernatural event indirectly causing towns people to act irrationally and turn on eachother v*olently. Despite literal monsters attacking them from outside (they chose to turn on eachother instead). In the end some townspeople become the real monsters via mob mentality/v*oence/false witch hunts (the mist, the birds, etc). In ‘the birds’ (while people are hidding in a store)- they wrongly blame certain characters for the supernatural chaos. Similarly, in ‘the mist’ (crowd of townspeople are trapped in a store) and some start interpreting the monsters as being sent as punishment by god- some town’s people start quoting the bible and saying the only way to stop the punishment is to start “sacrificing the s*nners and nonbelievers”. BIG YIKES.ST references mapple street (where the wheelers and sinclairs live). It’s based on the twilight zone ep of the same name “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street” .The ‘monsters’ of that episode -were the townspeople turning on eachother because they incorrectly think their own neighbors are part of an invading supernatural army. The enemy was actually the paranoia/mob mentality-not the supernatural force they feared. And yes i do think this concept is linked with 80s satanic panic and will cause some town division/obstacles for our heroes to deal with . **I also think the s4 bts of the Hawkins blood clinic-may be used to show h*mophobia (linked to satanic panic) in the town. Like in one s4 movie “paradise lost”the punk rock boys who were into black clothes, rock music , horror/stephen king books- were accused by the town’s people of being gay AND have demonic powers that are k*lling fellow town’s people.

Mr Hauser says he thinks steve Harrington is Ralph from lord of the flies. And Robin disagrees saying he’s Jack. Personally- since this was when Robin didn’t know/hated Steve. I think Mr hauser is right that Steve is Ralph (one of the oldest boys) who’s “commitment to civilization and morality is strong”. But Jack (perhaps the popular s4 kid Jake?) and his savage crew take control of the group and start trying to attack Ralph and his friends (steve’s crew- over satanic panic?). How this begins is -

Jack, torments Ralph and others. And some kids begin to develop savage personalities, after someone claims to have seen a Beast (demongorgan?) in the woods. This creates fear among the boys, which allows Jack to access more power.Ralph gets into an argument with Jack, who splits from the tribe. Many of the other boys follow Jack, who uses fear to manipulate the boys into leaving Ralph. And Jack’s crew begin attacking Ralph and his friends.

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Ok, next topic of ep 4- the sentimental part of my brain got emotional when hearing how upset Robin was. And than Mr Hauser-telling her she’s wrong and she’s not “broken” or “rotten” and “nothing about her needs to be fixed’” (got me right in the feels) . As a queer person- I feel like every lgbt+ kid/teen needs to hear what Mr. Hauser said to Robin.

However, the analytical part of my brain -did notice some easterggs/ series parallels.

The convo starts with them talking about music Mr hauser likes (such as Bowie). And transitions to Mr Haauser asking about things she likes, whether she’s being bullied, and he later tells her “ DON’T let other people’s small mindedness make you fell bad about yourself. you don’t need to change yourself-no matter what anyone else says” . And Mr Hauser than says him calling her the “weirdest girl in Hawkins” was a compliment (not an insult-like she initially assumed).

This is remarkably similar to certain scenes in s1/2. In s1, Jonathan mentions musicians he likes such as Bowie, asks Will about what he likes, and tells Will “don't like things cause people tell you you’re supposed to-especially not him (their dad who called him h*mophobic names)” . In s2, Jonathan tries to cheer Will up after asking if he's being being bullied. And calls Will “a freak” (and says it’s a good thing) and he should be content with being a “freak “ and compares Will to Bowie ( who was openly queer since the 70s) .

In ep 4, Robin also mentions how sad she is that her parents won’t let her ride her bike anymore cause their paranoid about her safety (like what happened to Will in s2).

Robin (before Mr. Hauser comforts her) says she feels like she has a “rot” inside her . This is a s2 eastergg that could be linked to either Will or El. Will says his now-memories are “growing”, spreading”, and killing.” Later Kali says the emotional pain caused by her father caused a “wound” to “spread”. Later allusion-Brenner tells El she has a “terrible wound “ (“a rot”) that Will “grow, spread, and kill.”

The reason Robin rants about feeling like she has a “rot” inside her is because she’s being bullied, and lost all her Hawkins friends and says “maybe I’m broken maybe there is just something about me that drives people away? I’m the only common denominator-there’s something wrong with me! There’s something inside of me that’s just rotten and there’s nothing i can do to fix it”. Which 1)-poor Robin. 2) I feel like could easily be How Will feels in s4(who will be the same age as Robin is here in the podcast)- his dad abandoned him, all his hawkins friends are gone , the st s4 movies have h*mophobic bullying in them (and he was bullied in the past). In a interview Noah said Will in s4 “doesn’t really get along with people-it’s just him and Mike.” I think it fits more so with Will than El . But they may feel similar: it’s implied in s4 audition tapes she’ll be bullied too, she moved away from her friends, and her father (Hopper) fake “passed away.” It could easily be how both Will and El feel in s4- that there is something “broken”/ “rotten” about them . In fact, in the rebel Robin novel there is even a character named Sheena. Sheena reminds me a bit of a mix between Will and el . She is very quiet, queercoded, and is often bullied. And she finds mean notes and other things stuffed in her locker- placed there by bullies. A bit like how Will found the zombie-boy note in his locker. A teacher doesn’t stop her bullying just blames her and says “ This wouldn’t happen if you made it just a smidgen easier for PEOPLE to understand you.”(sort of reminding me of that Noah quote about s4 Will not getting along with most people/Jonathan saying not to change himself cause “people” say to). But sheena can be another name for Jane (there was also a 80s show character named Sheena who was psychic) so ...maybe foreshadowing of el/jane being bullied in highschool? Along with Will?

*It’s not a eastergg/parallel...just speculation. Unlike the rebel robin book... in the podcast (in multiple episodes) almost every time she opens up to Mr Hauser about her problems she says it’s ok for him to do the same and she’ll be supportive and listen. However, Mr Hauser (so far) always rejects her offer-much to her hurt/frustration. In ep 4, she asks if he has someone his “own age” he can talk to about his problems-which he says he does. Now... since in ep 4 Mr hauser is paralleled to Jonathan maybe Jonathan will have someone his own age to talk to about his problems (maybe his new friend Argyle?) We see similar to Mr Hauser giving advice/pep talks to (gay) Robin. Jonathan is always giving advice/peptalks to our (gay-coded) Will. But so far- Jonathan has no one he really emotionally leaned on in the same way (Will does with Jonathan). I also wonder if Will in s4 starts gets tired of how he always confides in Jonathan (but Jonathan never does the same with Will in return)? Like Robin with Mr. Hauser?

#robin buckley #steve harrington #will byers #el hopper #jonathan byers #stranger things #stranger things theory

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the28thofseptemberr · 3 years

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helloooo!! i didn't do a fic rec last month because i was so busy with my exams and barely had time to read, so this month's post is going to comprise of mostly fics i've read in june but also some i've read in may.

thank you to all of the incredible writers, please go support them!! and remember to read all of the tags and possible warnings before reading the fic! here is the list of fics (mostly below the cut):

read

•° — led by your beating heart by @missandrogyny 29.4k | E | famous harry/non-famous louis

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any help right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

note: this was so funny and cute and well written, and everyone was characterized so perfectly!! i adored the chemistry between louis and harry, this fic kept me smiling for the whole time while i was reading <3

•° — sounds like love to me by @neondiamond 14.6k | G | kid fic

“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?”

Louis watches as Harry’s face falls with the realization that this is one of those things he won’t be able to experience. For a second, Louis considers saying no, to show Harry they’re truly on the same boat through all of this. But he nods in the end, reaching over for Harry’s hand as the doctor flips a switch. Noise fills the room then, and it takes a few seconds for the sound to become clear enough for Louis to make out the baby’s fast heartbeat.

“It’s really fast,” he voices his thoughts out loud as he uses his thumb to tap against the back of Harry’s hand, replicating the rapid rhythm of the baby’s heartbeat. It takes the younger man a little while to figure out what Louis’ doing, but a huge grin breaks out on his face as soon as he does.

“Is that them?” He signs with the other hand, his own eyes starting to tear up when Louis nods.

OR: Harry is deaf, Louis is pregnant. They figure it out.

note: i'm not a fan of mpreg or kid fics in general, but i stumbled across the fic post for this on my dash and the summary sounded really intriguing to me, so i had a go at reading and it did not disappoint!! it was really sweet and fluffy but also so touching and heartbreaking in some parts. plus, i really enjoyed how harry and louis worked together and supported each other.

•° — this restless dream by @afirethatcannotdie 5.6k | NR | first meetings

“Hiii, I called earlier about the dogs?” he asks, taking a few steps closer to the desk where Louis is standing. He’s taller than Louis, with a dimple when he smiles and bright green eyes. There's a cute eagerness about his whole presence. “Do you have any puppies?” He’s a bit like a puppy himself, actually.

AU. Louis works at an animal shelter and Harry wants a puppy. Things don't go quite according to plan.

note: this was so so adorable and soft, especially since i have a soft spot for h&l with pets. i also have a soft spot for h&l being oblivious lovesick idiots and this was perfect!!

•° — all i see is you, lately by @runaway-train-works 2k | G | first meetings

Harry noticed him for the first time three months ago. He couldn’t not, really, what with the man being so pretty and all, and Harry remembers it well because it was three days before his birthday and he had joked to himself that seeing someone so gorgeous for three days on the trot must be an early present from the Gods.

The one where Harry has a crush on a fellow commuter.

note: this one was quite short but so sweet and perfect and lovely!!

•° — the things i'd do to wake up next to you by orphan_account 36.1k | M | amnesia fic

AU. Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

note: this fic was incredible, i'm always up for an amnesia fic and this one was heart-breaking and realistic but also sweet and fluffy as well :)

•° — this glorious mess by theweightofmywords 14.2k | M | post-breakup

His head lolls to the side, and his eyes float open to focus on what used to be his bedside table.

It’s empty now, devoid of the framed photo of the two of them. And Louis knows that he has no right to feel hurt, but somehow, this only confirms what this really is.

“This is the last time,” he cries, his voice breaking both from pleasure and pain.

“I know, baby,” Harry breathes, burying his face in Louis neck.

note: this is the third mpreg-centric fic i've read this month and... i don't even like mpreg?? but god the premise of this fic intrigued me so much, and it was lovely and emotional and beautifully written.

•° — BLAH BLAH BLAH there's a moment you know (you're f*cked) by @mercurial-madhouse 3.2k | M | spy au

Anyone impulsive enough to betray their country is either foolish or overly-confident. Louis’s too cunning for the former. So his inflated ego tips precariously close to the edge between pride and hubris. In sum: He may be an expert, (as proven by the .32-cal Beretta Alleycat Harry found strapped to his back) but ex-agent Louis Tomlinson will explode like a busted bullet misfiring in a broken gunbarrel if Harry can find his trigger.

___

Or, the spy AU in which Harry thinks he's prepared to meet Louis only to find he's not.

note: the banter and tension in this fic was so good and so fun!! i need moreee

•° — every lonely place by @ham-palpert 38k | E | time travel/alternate lives fic

Facing the fact that he’s been prioritizing his career over his relationship, Harry proposes to his longtime boyfriend Louis on a whim. But when yet another work emergency takes precedence over their plans, Louis decides he’s had enough. Harry goes to bed drunk and alone, and when he wakes, he finds himself in an entirely different world. Over and over again, Harry visits a lifetime he’s once lived, across time and dimensions. And wherever there’s a Harry Styles, there’s a Louis Tomlinson.

note: this was such a unique fic! and such an emotional one too, love the message it sends and the character arc and development was so good

•° — tick-tock by bubblegumclouds 6k | G | soulmate au

When Louis was born to Jay Tomlinson with a tiny 2 years on his clock, it starts the most beautiful love story. Even if things are missed, fate finds a way to make it work.

note: this was just so, so cute and fluffy and sweet! i loved it

•° — baby baby, you're a caramel macchiato by @missandrogyny 3.2k | T | coffee shop au

So, yeah, Harry doesn't think it's that far of a stretch to call himself a good barista. There are some particularly bad ones, and some particularly good ones, and, with his work ethic, his skill, and his charm, he'd probably be lumped in with the latter group.

note: this was so lovely, and i especially really loved the little section talking about louis' name and how it suits him!

re-read

•° — one shines brighter by @afirethatcannotdie 11.8k | T | wedding fic

“Hi, baby. You doing anything fun today?” Harry shrugs. “Dunno. Thought I’d see how I was feeling before making any plans.” “You wanna get married?” Louis asks. Harry’s face breaks into a smile, and he nods. Louis’ lips are just brushing Harry’s when Gemma appears in the hallway. “You two are in so much trouble.” Harry's wedding was never supposed to be the happiest day of his life. No, that was going to be the day after, when he finally got to start his marriage. Unfortunately his family (and Louis) have other ideas.

Featuring a pair of moms who only want the best for their kids, meddling sisters with too much time on their hands, and a groom who gets caught up in the fairytale.

note: i adore this fic!! it's so so so adorable and so soft and well written, and you can feel how in love h&l are with each other. so so good!

my own fics

•° — under your bed in new york 33.4k | T | exes to lovers

"We know you're still in love with Harry."

Louis' nostrils flared up. "I'm not—"

"Louis."

"I'm not!"

there are many things louis likes to tell himself. we broke up for a reason. it's been so many years. and of course, the classic: i’ve definitely moved on from him. but when he suddenly finds harry back in his life after three years, louis realizes he might be a little less moved on than he thought.

au; spilling coffee onto an ex, being set up on dates, and having a nosy puppy might be all louis needs to find love again

note: i didn't actually write or publish this one this month, but i did edit, revamp and make a fic post for it this month so i thought i'd put it in here anyway. reblog the fic post here!

#28th appreciation #tracksintheam #trackinghome #hl source #1d source #fic rec #my fic rec #2021 recs #fic list #june rec #june 2021 rec #*#sched

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inkslingersworld · 3 years

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Crowbar (Alternate First Meeting)

Hi guys! This here short story is my first participation in Adrigami Week! I was planning on posting it yesterday, seeing as it’s following the “Alternate First Meeting” prompt, but the time got away from me. Idk if it’s still eligible for the official reblog or not, but I still had a blast writing it all the same. Enjoy! (Contains very mild profanity)

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Her lip was bleeding. For whatever reason, Kagami chose to focus on this minute aspect out of all the other injuries she’d sustained. She dabbed it with a paper towel.

Kagami couldn’t recall how she’d gotten like this. There was so much she couldn’t recall, and the staggering immensity of all her forgotten experiences had weighed down on her for so long that when she found herself in a bathroom without a clue as to how she’d gotten there, she was able to handle the newfound situation better than someone who hadn’t been through what she had.

The only thing that confused Kagami was that her clothes were in perfect condition, despite her face being bloody and streaked with dirt. In fact, they looked as though they’d just been sewn by a master tailor.

She brushed the puzzlement aside - she couldn’t linger here in this mysterious bathroom. Lingering got you killed.

The door opened easily at her touch, and Kagami examined the bedroom that it led into. The walls were painted in an eye-catching shade of purple, but the bed itself was small and plain. Kagami also noticed that there was no furniture other than a small nightstand and that the window was broken. It framed the outside world in jagged glass.

This aforementioned outside world was cloudy and bleak. Based on how damp the street appeared, Kagami concluded it must’ve rained recently. The buildings matched the clouds in their shade of gray, with windows just as broken as the one Kagami was using as an observation point. No street signs were visible. No vehicles, no animals, no people. Not even wind.

Kagami couldn’t care less about the lack of other individuals; her attention was pinpointed on the crowbar leaning casually against the building opposite. Without a second’s hesitation, she kicked away the rest of the glass and crawled expertly out of the window.

She didn’t know how she knew there’d be a fire escape, but resolved not to ponder on it, because every second she didn’t have the crowbar was a second where it could fall into the possession of someone else. Crowbars were tools; tools were extremely helpful.

By the time Kagami had raced down the stairs leading to the ground, she could notice how old and rusty the crowbar was. In retrospect, it probably wouldn’t be much use against some of the more contemporary weapons others owned, but in times like these, Kagami would take anything she could get.

In no time, she had dashed across the street and grasped the crowbar in her right hand. Flakes of deceased metal fell to the ground like rotten snow as she twirled it experimentally. Even if it fell apart in combat, it was nevertheless pretty maneuverable.

“Drop it.”

Kagami turned around instead, searching for the voice’s master. She found the man in question stepping out the adjacent alleyway. His face was hidden under an old halloween mask, but Kagami could see he was wearing a green rain jacket and pointing a pistol in her direction.

Was it a pistol? Further examination led Kagami to realize it was no such thing; it was a water gun, and she almost pitied the hopeless idiot who brandished it at her.

“I said drop it!” the man shouted, though not very loudly.

“You know that’s not a real gun, right?” Kagami asked nonchalantly, deciding to break the truth to him.

The man lowered the toy firearm and hung his head. “Damn it.”

“Wait, you already knew?” said Kagami in disbelief. “Why on Earth would you use a water gun instead of, I don’t know, an actual one?”

“I’m a pacifist,” admitted the man, sounding guilty. “I’m a believer of nonviolence.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but nonviolence fell out of fashion a while back,” said Kagami, not knowing where she’d heard it from.

“Well, I always favored the old styles over the new,” the man said. “You hungry? I’ve got some food.”

Kagami’s mouth fell open in spite of herself. Who did this airhead think he was? You didn’t just go around offering people food. But before she’d even responded, he started walking over to her, removing his mask in the process.

Based off his recent actions, Kagami was expecting him to look innocent and tame, and she was not disappointed. However, she hadn’t foreseen blond hair and green eyes. She hadn’t expected him to look this... well, attractive.

“I’m Adrien, by the way,” he said, plopping his butt on the pavement and taking off his previously concealed backpack. “What’s your name?”

“I’m not about to tell you my name!” Kagami cried exasperatedly. “I know nothing about you!”

Adrien, who’d previously been busy unpacking, looked up at Kagami closely for the first time. His eyes widened after locking with hers and he dropped the box of Ritz crackers he’d been taking out.

After a few uncomfortable seconds, Kagami demanded, “What?”

Adrien flinched violently and faced the ground, blushing. “Nothing.”

“Why were you staring at me for so long?” persisted Kagami.

“N-No reason!” Adrien stammered embarrassedly.

“Then why were you doing it?”

“I don’t know!”

Kagami decided not to push the topic and begrudgingly sat down; she hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now.

“So...” began Adrien slowly, seeming to regain some of his previous placidity. “I never did learn your name.”

“We’re not there yet,” Kagami grumbled, snatching a plastic-wrapped sandwich out of his hands.

“Well, what are you doing ‘round these parts?” Adrien asked curiously, putting his chin in his hands.

“None of your business,” snapped Kagami, losing some of her intimidation skills to a mouthful of grilled cheese.

“How’s the food?”

“Awful,” Kagami replied, even though it was delicious.

Adrien laughed hard. “You’re funny!”

“No, I’m not.”

“Oh, but you are!”

“What’s your problem?” asked Kagami sternly. “You know nothing about me, I could’ve killed you without hesitation as soon as you came over here!”

“And yet you didn’t!” Adrien pointed out cheerfully.

Kagami took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper in check. “Adrien, wasn’t it?”

Adrien nodded and smiled, seeming delighted that she’d remembered his name.

“Adrien, I don’t know what miracle allowed you to survive for this long, but in our society’s current state, you might not be around much longer. I suggest you drop this puppy dog attitude and learn to fend for yourself.”

“Why learn to fend for myself when we can fend for each other?” asked Adrien earnestly.

The sincereness of this question, contrasting with the playfulness Adrien had exhibited, caught Kagami off guard for a moment, though she soon regained her bearings.

“Adrien, no offense, but you’d be dead weight,” she stated. “Even if I wanted to stick around with you, my memory kinda wipes itself clean every six hours or so, only holding on to the most treasured information - my name, my personality, how to speak, how to read and write, knowing what stuff is, and the like.”

“No way!” exclaimed Adrien, before Kagami could continue. “I have the same thing! That’s why I started a diary!”

He zipped open his backpack again and retrieved a worn leather-bound book. Adrien opened it and showed Kagami its messily written contents.

“I originally didn’t remember how to write,” he explained, flipping through some pages to get to the beginning, “but I was able to relearn! It took like a year, though.”

Kagami peered at the even messier scrawl of a younger Adrien. She was shocked to see his name spelled incorrectly with crayon.

“How long’ve you been on your own?” she asked uncertainly.

“About twenty years, I think,” Adrien answered dismissively. “I can’t know for certain, I didn’t relearn how to understand a calendar until someone took me in when I was... fourteen, maybe?”

“Someone took you in?” inquired Kagami.

Suddenly, Adrien’s face began filled with sorrow and loneliness. “Yeah... yeah, I don’t like thinking about that.”

Noticing how sympathetically Kagami was gazing at him, Adrien quickly plastered his old smile back on. “That doesn’t really matter. Now I’ve got you!”

Kagami hesitated. One of the instincts her memory’d held onto was avoiding people, but Adrien seemed different. He in the same situation she was in, and he’d shown her kindness. Besides, it’d be nice to have a companion, and Adrien’s diary probably contained scores of valuable information to help the duo survive.

Even if not for all those reasons, there was something else, though Kagami wasn’t sure what it was yet. For whatever reason, Adrien made her feel relaxed, happy even. She didn’t know why, but he did.

“Okay, Adrien,” she said resignedly. “You can stick with me.”

Adrien’s face lit up with gratitude, and before she knew it, Kagami found herself buried in a hug. It was warm and comforting.

“Thank you so much!” Adrien said happily.

“No problem, Adrien,” sighed Kagami, already having her doubts.

Adrien released her and scooped up his backpack. They both stood up.

“Where are we headed?” he asked.

“West,” responded Kagami mechanically. “It won’t make too much of a difference, but we need all the sunlight we can get.”

The two started to walk. After trekking for about a minute, Adrien spoke again.

“You never did tell me what your name is.”

Kagami smiled softly and rolled her eyes. “It’s Kagami.”

“Kagami,” repeated Adrien thoughtfully. “I like that name.”

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@adrigamiweek

#inkslingersworld #inkslinger #miraculous #adrigamiweek2021 #adrigamiweek #adrien #kagami #alternate first meeting #long post #adrigami #crowbar

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dcbutinamrev · 3 years

Note

Lams, “i’d take our relationship back in a heartbeat," but John is dead and Alexander is talking to him. They can both be talking or just him, whatever, artistic freedom. :)

Sorry this is so late!!! I've been focusing my attention on Yrs Forever!! (As it is almost done) But your wish is my command! Modern au but with their historical apperances! I was gonna post this ficlet request on August 27 (cause...you know...) but like I also don't have the paitence to wait that long. So yeah. That's a thing-

~~~

Alexander Hamilton closes his eyes as soon as he steps into his apartment, hsi back pressed against the door and his jaw unusually tight. He breathes in slowly, holding his breath for a few seconds before slowly reopening his eyess. He hopes his boyfriend, his dear Laurens, would be before him but instead only to reveal before him an empty staircase. He groans miserbaly, and swallows the lump down his throat, grimacing as he does so--as though it had hurt him to do so.

It's been a month since he died. A whole entire month since his Jack left him, since he'd broken the promise he made to him. The promise he'd never leave him.

Hamilton shakes his head and climbs up the steps to his bedroom. He stares at the wooden door, his beautiful indigo-violet eyes ticking down towards the doorhandle. He smiles at the memory of when they had their first kiss, from at a party at Laurens's old friend's Tench Tilghman's place, Laurens counting Hamilton's freckles with a black sharpie, thinking he found Orion before leaning in to capture his lips. He remembers the first time they had sex, remembers clearly of Laurens slamming his back onto this very door, pinning him place as he kisses Hamilton roughly, quickly, heatedly, moving his lips down the side of Hamilton's neck, under his jaw.

Hamilton sighs long and slow before shaking his head at the memory, trying to learn to move on. But for some reason, he can't. He can't seem to let his John go.

Hamilton let's out another shaky breath before twisting the doorknob and gently pushing the door open. He hasn't stepped foot into this room for over a month, not after since Laurens's death. Always too frightened. But today, on August 27, the very same day in which he--Hamilton clears his throat, blinking his misty eyes. Well, anyways.

But today, he's feeling rather bold in doing so. Any other time, he'd be working down in the dining room table with his older foster brother, Lafayette, and parents around him--along with his friends, Richard Kidder Meade, Tench Tilghman, James McHenry, Robert Hanson Harrison, and David Humphreys of course. Or he'd be in one of the offices up here on the second floor, working in peace. Or hiding up in the attic, rummaging through old boxes of him and Laurens, watching old video tapes Laurens had made for each special moment. Hamilton stays where he stands currently in front of the entranceway, his eyes unfazed and misty. It feels like forever since he's been in this room.

Hamilton let's his bookbag slump onto the floor beside his door, taking a moment to let his new surroundings sink in. He sees his bed, the very same bed where he'd had Laurens beside him, beautiful sky eyes half-opened, honey blonde hair fallen loose and framing his angular face like a golden halo. Laurens's bare body exposed before him under the sheets. Hamilton encourages himself to take a leap forward and closes the door behind him.

It's quiet in his room. Dark and cold. He wraps his arms around his small, wasp-waisted frame as he shivers, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand suddenly up. He feels like he's missing something.

And he is.

Hamilton swallows hard, his jaw clenched once more, as he moves around the room, letting his hand trace over the soft silk of his bedsheets before him, stopping where Laurens's foot would be. He stares at the sheets, linen white before ticking his eyes up to where the moutain of pillows lays before him and up to the wooden headboard. He can faintly see the ghostly outline of Laurens and himself sleeping together in this very bed. He presses his lips together and forces himself to look away, letting out a shuddering breath before finally having the courage to head toward his desk.

His hands rest on the back of the chair as he stares down. He ticks his eyes up to find a framed photograph of him and Laurens sharing a kiss, both of them smiling against the other's lips. Despite the ache he feels, the twisting of his stomach, he can feel the corners of his lips being quirked up.

He reaches for a framed photograph of his beautiful Laurens on the other side, just of him--a simple portrait, Hamilton's dashing soilder. He sighs as turns, the photorgaph still clutched in his hands, before he flops himself down on the edge of the bed, a few dark red curls fall loose and bounce on his forehead.

"Oh, Jack..." Hamilton whispers, his voice raw, choking. He lets his thumb trace over the side of Laurens's face, near his ear, over his hairline. "You know...I'd take our relationship back in a heartbeat."

A pause. Followed by endless silence. He sighs again before flopping down onto the bed, tilting his head to one shoulder as he eyes the portrait before him.

"I um...I um....How've you been? John?" he says to himself. He pauses, waits for a moment, before letting out a dry laugh, followed by a sniff. "College has been okay...rough obviously but okay. Gil had already gone back to France for his own college education and me stuck here in Manhattan and you? Who knows where you could be. But...I do hope...wherever you are...Jack...I...I do hope you now have peace."

Hamilton presses his lips together tightly once more, in hopes it would hold back the small whimper in which escapes him. He clenches his teeth as he narrows his eyes at Laurens before him, the small grin on his face, the twinkle in his sky-blue eyes--blue, a rich, vibrant blue, clear as the sky on a summer's day. He shakes his head, anger replacing the grief.

"You promised me..." he whispers sharply, his voice hissing like a snake, his chest heaving. "You...you....you promised me you wouldn't leave me...you said so yourself those very words." He swallows hard as he blinks his eyes fast, a tight scowl on his face. "You lying bastard!"

With a frustrated grunt, he tosses the framed photograph across the room, wincing as it smashes against the wall, watching it fall to the floor with a clatter, making himself jump back with surprise. Surprisingly, the glass doesn't shatter. Hamilton sniffs and wraps his arms around himself again, feeling himself shrink--feeling small, vulnerable, and weak. And he hates feeling weak and vulnerable.

"How could you?" he whimpers at the framed photograph now on the floor instead of his hands. "How could you, John? You know how I am when I get too attached to people. You knew what I would do, what I would feel if I had lost another person in my life. " He feels something wet trickle down his freckled cheeks. He ignores it. "You know of my past, a past which I would rather keep tucked away in a small closet inside the back of my head."

Silence.

"Please, John..." he whispers, licking his dry, chapped lips--dry from the lack of kisses. "Please...come back to me...I can't...not you too..."

Another pause.

"I know, I know I haven't fully accepted the fact that you're...you're gone...but..." Hamilton shakes his head as he collapses onto his knees, leaning forward and with one arm reaches out for the frame. "They told me you were sick. You were sick and you went out there anyways. You knew...didn't you?"

Nothing.

"What about the letter? The letter I sent you? I sent it around the fifteenth. Did you get it? Did you even read it? Did it get miscarried?"

Hamilton freezes in place, his face paling and his eye widen with realization. He stands shakily, his hands trembling as his mind whirls and his stomach spins, making him double over slightly and clutch his stomach with one arm as he leans against the edge of the bed.

"The 15th..." he whispers shakily, glancing back down at Laurens's portrait in his trembly hands. "The 15th...you...it takes about a couple days to a week for corrospondences to be delievered...you...you may not have even recieved it on the 27th..."

Hamilton feels himself queasy, his vision blurring as his head spins, a loud ringing in his ears.

"Oh God!" he wails, bringing a shaky hand up to his parted lips to hide the chocked sob. "John...Oh, John...please..."

He falls to his knees again, gently placing the portrait onto the bed. He blinks his eyes fast, his whole body trembling as he clasps his hands together and presses his forehead agaisnt his knuckles.

"John...please...if you can hear me...just please...show me..." He sucks in a shaky breath. "Show me the way...please...I...I miss you, my love...I...I can't even..." He squeezes his eyes tighter as more tears manage to escape. "I can't even...I love you...I love you...I just...I just want to kiss you..." He glances up from his knuckles and up at the ceiling. "I want to see you...I...I want to hear my name from your lips...see your smile...hear your laugh...I want...I want to kiss you, Jack. I mean as I say. I'd take our relationship back in a heartbeat. I...I...want to kiss you. Just one last time..."

Hamilton waits. He waits for a few minutes, for anything. But all he hears is silence.

He breaks, the glass inside him shatters. He screams, wails with desperation and anger before he folds his arms over each other and rests his forehead on top of them, still on his knees, sobbing as quietly as he can, sniffling occasionally, mumbling Laurens's name under his breath like a chant.

After a few minutes, he wails again, tears streaming freely like a waterfall down his red, puffy freckled cheeks and his bedroom door slams open at the sound of his pleading cry. He feels arms wrap around him, one arcross his chest and one around his back, the person's hand up to his dark russet curls. The person, who Hamilron happens to discover is Lafayette himself, pulls him close until his forehead is now pressed against his chest.

"Please..." Hamilton whimpers, clutching onto Lafayette's shirt.

Lafayette sighs heavily and presses a soft kiss to his temple before resting his cheek on top of his head, shushing him occasionally.

"I'm sorry..." Hamiton whispers. "I'm so sorry....I...What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, mon petit frere," Lafayette assures him with a warm smile as he lifs Hamilton's chin up, brushing back a few loose curls.

Hamilton wipes his red, puffy cheeks frustratingly, embarrassed of himself. "There must have...I must have done something wrong, Gil...he deployed...he promised me he'd come home to me...that he wouldn't leave me..."

"Alex..." Lafayette whispers, his own heart cracking at the sight of Hamilton before him, who he loves more than anything.

"They said he was sick," Hamilton chokes, slowly glancing up at Lafayette. "Malaria, they said...Malaria..."

"Alexander..."

"Yet he went to battle anyways..." He chokes. "He knew...he knew..."

"Shh..." Lafayette whispers, helping Hamilton stand once more and guiding him towards the bed. "Sleep Alex. You need let yourself rest."

Hamilton shakes his head. "I can't sleep. It's a waste of time..." He shivers at the word. "There's other things...essays to be complete....exams..."

"Shh," Lafayette insists, forcing him to lie down on the bed. "You must rest, mon ami. Your body is telling you it does. You've overworked yourself again, didn't you?"

Hamilton lets himself collapse onto the pillow with a thump, covering his eyes with his hands.

"Get some rest, mon ami," Lafayette whispers, tucking a lose strand of red hair behind his ear as soon as he lowers his hand.

Hamilton nods and watches Lafayette walk towards his bedroom door. He's about to swing it open, when Hamilton stops him.

"Gil?" Hamilton calls, causing Lafayette to stop in his tracks.

He turns to Hamilton over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

Hamilton smiles in what Lafayette must think have been forever. "Thank you."

Lafayette chuckles, feeling the corners of his lips quirk up. "Of course, Alex. That's what brothers are for."

After the door clicks shut behind Lafayette, Hamilton lets his eyes shut and for the first time in many days-

He smiles in his sleep.

#lams #historical lams #ficlet #requested #oneshot #amrev #read more #IT'S FINALLY FINISHED #SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT!!!#WOO LOOK AT ME FINISHING A FICLET BEFORE 11:30 AT NIGHT!!!#sorry yall #angst #alexander hamilton #john laurens #marquis de lafayette #long post #i think i'm missing an aide-#ava!

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wreckofawriter · 4 years

Text

Minnie's Daughter

Pairing: James Potter x McGonagall's Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 3,984

Warnings: Swearing? None? Fluffy

Summary: When James finds out his favorite proffesser has a daughter he can't seem to keep her from his head

A/n: I fuckin loved writing this, I wrote it all today and I'm now finishing it at 12:46 at night. This is #12 from the fanfic vote and got the second highest number of votes, hope y'all enjoy! Look at me posting twice in one week

“Potter!”

James flinched slightly before turning around a large grin plastered onto his visage, “Minnie! So good to see you!” He cheered

The older woman rolled her eyes on instinct, “I told you not to call me that James. I am your professor you shall treat me accordingly.” she spoke sharply.

“Jeez, Minnie you seem more angry than usual.” The boy shuddered in his usual fashion; dramatically.

She sighed rubbing her temple with one hand, “Just come with me, Potter.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He saluted smile not faltering despite the nerves which now slowly consumed him.

The two slowly made their way towards McGonagle’s office, something James knew a bit too familiarly. As they walked everything he had ever done flashed through his memory, the thousands of school rules he had abandoned, the laws he had broken, pranks he had pulled. What was he in for this time? It seemed there were far too many possibilities.

The second that the door shut behind him he opened his mouth.

“Minnie if this is about the Grindylows in the prefects’ bath, I had nothing to do with it, I swear on my life. That prank was simply untasteful and you know I would never do something so dull.” He defended putting on his most innocent mask.

“Potter you aren’t in trouble, I simply- wait, what Grindylows are you talking about?” She asked brows furrowed.

The boy’s eyes widened, “Oh, um, i-it’s nothing you need to worry about.” He spoke his voice gaining false confidence.

Another exasperated sigh left the professor’s lips but she didn’t address what she was sure to become a problem, “I simply wanted to talk to you about your plans for the quidditch team now that you are the captain.”

“Ooohhh,” The boy nodded in understanding, a wave of relief washing over him. Excitement built in his stomach as quidditch was mentioned and he bounced happily on his heels a shimmer appearing in his dark eyes. “I can show you my workouts and plays and stuff if you want.” He offered eagerly, “I have some written in my bag.”

“That sounds perfect James.” She grinned, “Bring them to my desk.”

He nodded walking forward while rummaging for the notebook he had spent the summer scribbling in. He found it and placed it on his professor’s desk before opening it’s worn cover and flipping through the pages.

Both individuals quickly became immersed in the plans as the captain explained his workouts, strategies and more. In fact, they became so engrossed they didn’t notice a third figure enter the room.

You rolled your eyes as you heard your mother jabber about the sport she loved so much. You sighed walking up towards the pair being purposefully quieter than needed. You suppressed a giggle as you neared the duo. You stood just to the right of the boy who was crouched over his notes, you then leaned your head so your chin was resting just above his shoulder, you could smell the cologne he wore but ignored its sweetness. Your lips centimeters from his ear you spoke, “Whatcha guys talkin’ about?”

The dark-haired boy let out a shrill shriek as your mother gasped in surprise.

You burst into a wave of laughter doubling over as the quidditch star glared at you, clearly offended.

“You scream like a four-year-old girl Potter.” You cackled blinking back tears.

James opened his mouth to shoot back an insult but something stopped him. You looked oddly familiar, your eyes gleamed in a recognizable fashion, your smile all too common to his view. Despite this, he had no clue who you were.

“Merlin y/n!” the professor gasped, “That was uncalled for.”

“Sorry, mum.” You giggled, “I couldn’t help it.”

In that exact moment, James’ bain imploded. His jaw dropped, eyes growing to the size of saucers as if he had just been slapped.

“Minnie! You have a daughter!” he gasped, completely appalled by this new information.

“James! You have a brain!” You mimicked him, false surprise emerging on your face.

“Y/n, be polite.” Your mother scolded although it was hard to miss the smirk on her lips.

James wasn’t even bothered by the jeer, he was far too preoccupied with attempting to figure out what the hell was happening.

“It’s nice to formally meet you, James.” You grinned sticking out your hand for him to take, “I’m y/n y/l/n. Minnie’s daughter”

He shook his head quickly his hair bouncing slightly before he took your hand, which he found surprisingly soft and slightly cold, “James Potter.” He mumbled before turning to the woman who had returned to the notebook.

“Minnie!” He shouted.

You giggled at the nickname biting your lip lightly.

McGonagall’s eyes snapped upward dangerously but at this point, James was too shocked to care.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had a daughter!?” He asked in complete dismay, “I thought we were friends!”

The witch simply rolled her eyes, “If you had paid any attention to those around you, you would have noticed I had a daughter years ago.” She spoke, seemingly unfazed.

“Minniiieeee. That’s not fair.” He pouted.

McGonagall shrugged.

“Oooo, are those quidditch notes?” You asked peering over James’ shoulder like an excited puppy. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Yeah sur-”

“No way.” your mother interrupted eyebrows raised as she peered over her glasses at you.

Now it was your turn to pout, “But mum.” You attempted to reason.

James choked in a breath as you widen your eyes and jutted out your bottom lip. Did you always look this adorable?

“Nu-uh.” She shook her head.

“Why not?” You whined placing your hands on the desk and leaning over it attempting to catch a glimpse of the ink-stained pages.

“Because last time I made the mistake of letting you ‘look through’ my quidditch notes, you charmed it and gave a copy to the Ravenclaw Captain.” She huffed, closing the notebook from your prying eyes.

James gasped again, “That was you!”

You nodded, smirking proudly.

“We lost the quidditch cup because of that!” He heaved.

You just shrugged, “Yeah well, we won because of it.”

He glared back at you, tucking the notebook protectively under his arm.

“Shit!” You swore glancing at the clock behind your mother’s desk.

“Language y/n!”

“Sorry, mum,” You yelled over your shoulder scrambling from the room, the door thudding against its frame as it closed behind you.

James opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by you dashing back into the room.

“I forgot what I came here for.” You groaned, “Where is my herbology textbook?”

McGonagall opened a drawer in her desk handing it to you.

“Thanks, mum.” You rushed as you snatched it from her and sprinted back towards the door.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had a daughter.” James sulked, his eyes glued to where you had resided moments before.

McGonagal was met with a hell storm when James spread the news of his new discovery. That hell storm’s name was Sirius Black. He had crashed into her classroom while she was in the middle of a class and began his tearful act. He whined and gasped and pouted, stating his betrayal and his loss of trust.

The professor tiredly massaged her closed eyelids as his antics continued.

Thankfully the other marauders were surprised but lacked the same gusto Black held, although James seemed to have a sudden problem on his hands. For some reason he couldn’t seem to pull you from his head, it was like you were cemented there, your giggle rinning in his ears as your voice echoed through his head. You were strangely captivating.

He wondered if that’s how his professor had been in her youth, although he refused to picture McGonagall as beautiful. You were simply alluring, your entire aura drawing him towards you. He wasn’t quite sure what it was but he found himself needing to be near you. He foolishly allowed himself to wonder if you thought the same of him.

Your heart pounded lightly as you snuck to the owlery, you fought a wide smile as you climbed the seemingly endless steps, taking them two at a time out of excitement. When you finally reached the top you let out a slight squeal noticing your large barn owl perched near the door.

You whistled once and let it land lightly on your outstretched arm. You then carefully untied the thread from his leg taking the note in your hand and dropping your arm as your owl departed. You unthreaded the scroll and began slowly down the stairs as you read it. By the second line of words, your throat went dry. You could feel your heart beginning to throb painfully as the back of your eyes began to sting.

You sped through the remainder of the letter a sob ripping from your throat as the words sunk into your skin. Your vision blurred and you grasped at the stone wall to your right. The wind tore overhead, suddenly the pleasant breeze felt threatening. You crashed downwards, the stone step you sat on causing shivers to conquer your body. You let tears drip down your cheeks and slide off your chin as you raked your hands through your hair. Another cry unlodged itself from your throat and echoed around you. You pulled one of your hands from your hair slamming it over your mouth as you squeeze your eyes shut in mental agony. You bit your lip harshly bringing your shaking hands to your cheeks and wiping them dry. You gasped in a sharp breath blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay. Finally, you shoved the letter into your robe pocket and stood continuing down the stairs as if nothing had happened.

You saw this coming, you thought, you knew it would, why are you so surprised?

You shake your head blinking rapidly again. You slipped into the castle feeling emptier than usual, your heart still aching, your head starting to. You ran your tongue over your lips, feeling just how dry they were. Water rose to your eyes again and you swore, leaning your head back and squeezing them shut.

“Y/n?”

You snapped your head forward, eyes opening wide.

“Are you okay?” James asked walking towards you, concern etched into his sharp features.

“Uh, hey James.” You spoke attempting to sound normal and failing miserably as your voice came out in a croak. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe you, he narrowed his eyes, “Are you sure?”

You coughed attempting to clear your suddenly clogged throat, “Yeah seriously, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look like it.” He responded eyebrows still furrowed.

“Thanks.” You muttered sarcastically attempting a small smile.

James felt his ears grow hot, hoping you didn’t notice in the dull light of his wand, “I-I didn’t mean it like that.” he spoke quickly, “I mean you look pretty today, umm I mean you always look pretty and uhh you just look a little worn out...But like not in a bad way! Just you uhh-”

Your giggle cut his rambles short, you bite your lip looking down at your feet, “You’re fine James, I was only joking.” You mumbled.

“Oh.” He replied sheepishly his cheeks flaming.

The hallway fell into an awkward silence, tension feeling thick, like the air on a humid day.

James coughed uncomfortably, “Do you want me to walk you to your common room?” he asked ruffling his hair, something you had the sudden urge to do.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You smiled sticking your hands in your pockets. You felt the letter you stowed away in your hand and you swallowed another sob.

The two of you walked in silence, the only noise being your shoes on the floors of the castle.

Your mind reeled, the words replaying, still raw in your head.

You’re always gone at that boarding school. I never even see you anymore… I don’t know y/n/n we just lost something.

You could feel tears begin to well again, your world falling blurry.

I just don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry.

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You let out a strangled whimper halting where you stood and burying your head in your hands as your body shook.

James turned toward you in alarm, his heart throbbed as you cried into your hands attempting to muffle the sound. He stood there for a second before taking a step towards you and wrapping his arms around you shaking form.

You leaned into his touch, your head thumping as you wailed into the boy’s chest, your hands still pressed to your face.

“Hey, you’re okay.” James cooed as he gently ran his hand down your back, “You’re gonna be okay.”

He continued whispering sweet nothings in your ears, until you calmed a considerable amount, your sobs turning into shaky breaths and small sniffles.

Your face felt hot, embarrassment took you over as your head began to clear. You pushed yourself from James’ hold.

“I’m sorry,” You chocked out, “I must look pathetic right now and I barely know you and I’m a fucking mess, I’m so sorry James.” you gushed attempting to wipe your face clean.

James looked confused, “Y/n you have nothing to apologize for.” he spoke so softly you almost swooned.

You stood quietly shifting back and forth on your feet, unsure what you were supposed to do now.

“What happened?” James asked, “If someone hurt you y/n I will beat-”

You laughed lightly, “No one hurt me, James, I just um.” You took a large breath release it slowly, “I just got dumped.”

James's eyes widened, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” You huffed picking at your lips, “I mean it wasn't like I didn't see it coming, we had barely seen each other at all for the past year and honestly I don't think I have loved him since then, but we were together for so long, it just hurts. And I guess I’m just scared to be alone again.” You laughed bitterly at your own self-pitying rant.

“Did he just break up with you tonight?” James asked he seemed to hold a mixture of anger and concern in his dark eyes.

“Well umm, he’s a muggle.” You spoke awkwardly, “I just received the letter.”

“Oh.” James mentally slapped himself for repeating that word so many times.

You chuckled stiffly, “It really shouldn’t be that big of a deal, I mean I saw it coming, I just didn’t think it would happen this soon.”

“Obviously it’s a big deal y/n, you can be sad after a breakup.” He smiled down at you a certain shine in his eyes telling you there was more. “Do you still have the letter by any chance?”

You tilted your head in confusion, “I do.” You answered hesitantly, “Why?”

“Wanna burn it?”

You never wanted to do anything more.

The two of you sat shoulder to shoulder in the astronomy tower watching as the letter your ex-boyfriend had sent burned. You felt a sense of relief as it turned to ash, its words and meaning disintegrating before your eyes. You sighed suddenly feeling exhausted as if someone had flipped a switch and drained you of all your energy. Your eyelids became heavy, breaths became longer and soon you felt yourself drifting into a dreamless sleep.

James felt a light pressure on his shoulder and turned to see your head resting on it. Your y/h/c hair gleamed in the light of the small fire you had created. He smiled softly carefully brushing the loose strands of y/h/c from your face. He then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his heart thumping as his cheeks flushed red.

He softly shook his head, what was he doing?

You and James grew surprisingly close, surprisingly quickly. It was frightening how well you got along. Whispers coated the halls of some secret relationship that blossomed between you. You always laughed it off as James grew pink and denied it entirely.

The head boy had come to terms with his feelings for you the moment you fell asleep on his shoulder and he had been forced to carry you back to your common room solve an impossible riddle and get you in bed.

He wasn't as smooth as he thought he was when it came to you. When he had liked other girls it was easy, he would just make a few flirtatious remarks ad then ask them out, but with you, it was complicated.

First, there was the fact that you just got out of a two and a half year relationship. Then the fact that your mother was McGonagall. And of course, the fact that every time he tried to confess to you his words would get lodged in his throat and refuse to move.

Day after day he told himself he would tell you, he would share the feelings that lodged themselves into his brain and heart. But as cliche, as it sounded days, turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and soon he was sitting across from you in the library thinking about how badly he wanted to push your hair from your face and decorate your neck with hickeys.

But he kept his mouth closed cursing himself for every moment he let tick by which he didn't hold you in his arms.

When he hit month four Sirius said he was hopeless and Remus agreed. James had become completely intoxicated by you. The dreams he had of you becoming lewd, looking you in the eyes became difficult as he could only think of how your lips would taste.

Month five rolled around and James had decided he was hopeless, he had tried desperately to convey the message he kept bottled to you, but for being so smart you were extremely oblivious. Then the unthinkable happened.

“James, can you stay after class please,” McGonagal asked, her voice sharp, but her eyes soft.

James nodded numbly his mind wandering back to you, wondering if you had eaten enough for breakfast, you had slept in and only gotten there for the last five minutes. Maybe he would grab you a snack from the kitchens on his way to his next class and drop it off for you. Slughorn wouldn't mind if he was a bit late to potions.

The class was dismissed and he stood from his seat absentmindedly standing to leave.

“James!” McGonagall called and he snapped back to attention.

He walked up to her desk and stared at the women, deja vu making him blink rapidly.

“I'm not going to beat around the bush Potter, I know you like my daughter,” McGonagall spoke peering at the now blushing boy over her glasses.

James sputtered desperately for an answer, looking for a sentence to deny such a claim but he was cut off.

“James, I’m not here to hear your denial, I am here to beg you to ask her out.”

And his brain exploded again.

“She talks about you constantly, she cannot get out a sentence without your name being in it, it is simply ridiculous. Even worse you are getting spacey not only in the classroom but on the field. We almost lost our last game because you couldn't keep your head in the game. So please for both of your sakes, just ask her out.” McGonagall stared at the boy, looking desperate.

After a moment of silence, James spoke: “You aren’t mad that I like her?” He chose his words carefully, not sure if he was on thin ice or not.

“No James.” The professor sighed, “If any of the boys in this school were to date her I would hope it to be you, I know you, you’re a good kid.” She admitted painfully.

“You actually want me to ask her out?” James asked hesitantly, unsure if it was a type of test or if he was going crazy.

“Yes, James.” She huffed, “Please just do it so I don't have to hear about how adorable you look in hoodies ever again.”

James flushed again, “Y/n said I look cute in hoodies?”

“Oh, Merlin.” She muttered under her breath, “Just do it James.”

And with that, he ushered him out the door.

You hummed quietly, music blasting far too loudly through your walkman, you lay on your back a book held above your head as you thumbed through it.

You didn't take notice of your roommate busting into the room, a giggle on her lips as she smiled brightly.

She called out your name twice, groaning and rolling her eyes before walking over to you and plucking the headphones from your ears.

You sent her a glare.

“Don’t glare at me,” She huffed, “I'm just here to tell you that James Potter is waiting outside the common room for you.”

“He is?” You asked. You were pretty sure you didn't have plans with him today.

“No, I’m making it up.” She scowled rolling her eyes.

“Okay, okay, I'm going.” You exhaled loudly pushing yourself from the bed.

You wandered down the spiral stairs waving to a couple of people who seemed to be staring. You noticed a few girls whispering something to each other before catching your gaze, almost looking… jealous?

You frowned before exiting the common room.

“Hey James, what’s up…” Your voice died in your throat at the sight in front of you. There stood a blushing mess of a boy, a bouquet of bright yellow roses and daisies grasped in his hands. He was adorned in his school pants and dress shirt, a yellow hoodie thrown over it, his dark curly hair springing from underneath its hood making him look positively adorable.

He refused to meet your eye, his cheeks so red you swear they must have been on fire.

You felt your own cheeks heat as you stared up at him, his glasses perched lazily at the end of his nose as he stared at his feet.

He finally raised his gaze meeting your own and instantly regretted it. Your head was tilted slightly in confusion, your cheeks dusted pink, your eyes wide, shining with a doe-like innocence. You were simply stunning.

He pushed his glasses up his nose nervously and he spoke. He spoke the words he had wanted to say for five months.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stopped, jaw-dropping eyes growing wider, you were left completely speechless as your mind reeled with the words he just spoke.

James’ throat went dry and he nervously fiddled with his glasses again, “I totally get it if you don't feel the same way, I just I can't stop thinking about you, and honestly I just couldn't keep it bottled up anymore.”

You just stood there. So stunned your mouth forgot how to move.

“Say something,” James spoke his voice practically a whimper.

You still didn't speak, you weren't sure you trusted your words at that moment, so instead, you took two steps forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips onto yours.

The kiss was messy at first, your noses collided at the speed you pulled James towards you, his arms soon reached around you, bouquet still secured in one hand as he straightened you and plunged his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like honey and cinnamon. His scent surrounded you, the soft odor of expensive cologne and the tinge of sweat.

You pulled away slowly lips still touching a moment after the kiss broke, breath mingling as you looked up into his deep eyes, you could feel yourself begin to fall into them, your heart pounding at an inhuman rate.

“I love you too James.” You whispered and the smile he wore was brighter than anything you could ever imagine.

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

Masterlist

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avenger-hawk · 3 years

Note

Why do you like Kakasasu?

I waited to reply to this because I wanted to be sure it wasn’t a troll and it wasn’t a drama starting attempt (like this or this, gems found in the sasuke/KS tag) since it’s a subject I am very interested in.

I replied to Kakashi/Sasuke related asks, shippy or not shippy, here, here and here. More about them here, here and here. Put yourself comfortable cause this is gonna be long. Not putting it under a readmore cause I remember ppl complaining they coulnd’t open it on mobile phones (?). Also, moralists who are lurking: don’t interact, get out of my blog. Youll be blocked on sight.

When I started reading N*ruto I was into Bleach a lot, and the fact that the characters were a little older and looked older made me not get into Nar that much at first, because they looked like kiddies lol. I didn’t care about Nar as a character and his initial rivalry with Sas was cute but not enough to get me interested. Only when Kakashi got closer to Sasuke I started being veery interested in the story and in the characters. What I found intriguing was that Kakashi was older and an authority figure, but also someone to look up and who helped his students, BUT at the same time he wasn’t exactly a father-like figure or a big brother-like figure, because he had his dark side, that back then wasn’t well flashed out but that nevertheless showed a closed-off person who kept everything inside, not letting others get too close to him.

(then I started liking N*rusasu mostly because there were so many cool doujinshi especially Emi10/Rankai and Engawaken, while KS doujinshi were so meh, kinda in old yaoi style like Loveless, with tiny Sas who looked even younger hahaha, not my thing)

As those who know my blog and/or my writing know already, I am not interested in healthy, cute, positive dynamics in fiction. I might enjoy them, I might be happy when there are such moments, but I can’t like a whole relationship/dynamic/story only like this because I like to explore complicated ones in fiction.Because fiction is very useful for this, it makes you explore dark, taboo things, without affecting reality (no matter what idiots say), it’s cathartic, it’s a way to do, see, experience things without doing anything.

Back to topic tho, I found their initial dynamic very intriguing. A broken, traumatized yet extremely driven Sasuke, acting as confident and strong as he can, but showing his trauma in various occasions, otherwise being mostly aloof, lost in his own thoughts, and a differently broken Kakashi, acting chill but at the same time always ready to act when needed, yet always kinda distracted, aloof, lost in his owh thoughts (and later we’ll know he took Obito’s mannerisms because he was a stickler to rules). The way Kakashi takes a special interest for Sasuke, clearly the most driven, the best of the team, with whom he holds back much less (when he trains them, like when in the beginning, during the bell test, he fights with Sas and seeing that he almost took it, he overpowers him) while he is different with the others (Nar will have Jiraiya later). The way he protects Sasuke during the chuunin exams, while he’s in the hospital and Kabuto is trying to kill him.

Mostly, the controversial moments...like I said I live for these kind of things. where he both protects and threatens him...like when he does that seal to Sasuke, for his curse mark, and he tells him that if that curse mark takes over he’ll kill him. Or when he ties Sasuke up so he won’t join Orochimaru.

Before someone says bs like *you’re not Sas fan if you like that scene* (I know there are many like this and I want all of them out of my blog btw) uh, it’s not how it works guys. You can support a character and still be intrigued by scenes where said character is tied up/in a forcibly submitted position and so on. Guess what, some of those scenes are made for fanservice even (and Sas has many of these, so if you don’t see the appeal/refuse to admit that there is appeal, it’s you who have a problem). So even tho I disagree with Kakashi not wanting to listen to Sasuke’s reasons for revenge (and later supporting SHikamaru’s, I replied to this in one of the asks I linked) I do find that scene interesting...I mean Sasuke tied up in a very suggestive way and yet defying him and threatening to kill his loved ones and Kakashi opening up in a very weird way vaguely replying that he lost those ppl already? It shows a lot about them, their personalities, everything.

I am sticking to part 1 because there are more meaningful interactions between them, I wished there were more in part 2 but kishi shifted Kakashi’s ‘interest’ to Nar, making him one of Nar’s followers...even so, the intractions they had were very interesting. Their fight after Sasuke fights Danzo is one of my fave moments in the whole story tbh, much more than the later confrontation with Nar. Kakashi for the first time has an inner only, yet strong, emotional reaction, having to fight and supposedly kill his former student who became a rogue with a death sentence on his head...he realizes this is how Hiruzen felt against Orochimaru. It’s a strong realization from someone like him who was always so closed off and aloof that he totally lacked empathy.

On the other hand Sasuke is in a different mindset. He’s sort of high for having succeeded in eliminating the one who made Itachi suffer so much, he’s thinking about killing the elders and destroy the village, so he’s basically lost in the recent past of Danzo’s death and in the future plans he’s making, he’s not in the present moment almost...but he has to fight anyway, and it’s a cool fight, also because he’s weakened already and Kakashi is strong...and then he gets blind, totally, and it’s an amazingly intriguing moment, the kind of controversial stuff I’m interested in, because that’s when he could be totally overpowered by Kakashi, if the story didn’t have other priorities (putting Nar in the center of attention with their confrontation).

Their later moments, like during the war, are meh cause the interest shifted already completely, but their moments in jail (anime only ofc) and their Shinden interactions (only through messages) are interesting to me. Very much so, because they show power dynamics very well, with Kakashi as THE authority and Sasuke as the one submitted. In jail it’s even more evident with him looking down at the younger tied up and blindfolded...like, wow. It’s like fanfiction material (in fact I wrote one (ff.net/a03) and there was the coolest fanart inspired by it! here..there were more but this came on my dash today so).

You mentioned power dynamics...their dynamics are all power dynamics because Kakashi was never at Sasuke’s same level and he never acted like he was, and when Sasuke was stronger, during the war, they basically didn’t interact, and when the war was over and Sasuke was brainwashed and tamed into submission the power dynamic remained the same.

The difference imo between them and other power dynamics based pairings is that they are closer than what could be defined rare pairings such as Obito (they had a very interesting one tho, if only it was developed), Madara (the story was already developed in a pro Konoha-anti Uchiha way but it would have been so cool to have the 2 Uchiha interact more), or other older and stronger characters, so the dynamic could be written in a cool way in a fanfiction but in canon Kakashi created it already. So, while I can imagine something like Shisui/Sasuke, Obisasu or more, in my head, and I can come up with some AU or canon divergent/canon behind the screen (like when Sas stayed with Obito after the transplant), Kakashi and Sasuke had canon interactions that showed power dynamics already.

(Then there is Itasasu, which is a huge power dynamic based relationship, that also had amazingly strong feelings though, and those who know me know that for me Itachi will always be Sasuke’s most loved person, and that he was the same for Itachi. So ofc imo IS is a much stronger bond compared to KS but still. Also I remember in the beginning how many fics I read where Itachi was abusive to Sas and Kakashi stepped in lol. And it’s not a mystery that even though I think the IS bond is the strongest I find other pairings and character dynamics very interesting, so much that I like to explore them even more than IS, which, imo, is almost a given fact so I don’t always feel the need to explore it)

Another thing I find intriguing is that Kakashi always saw Sas at his ‘worst’...in Konoha’s terms I mean. When he wanted revenge in pt 1, after he killed Danzo and he was weak and so desperate and hysterical that they thought he got crazy, when he was jailed. It’s a big power he has, to be able to see someone like this.

Tbh it’s a pity that there were no post war moments (B*ruto shit doesn’t count) where they interact ‘normally’ cause I would have liked to see them, both as normal interactions where they get closer again, now that Sas is older, where they train and they get physical (and Kakashi has a lot of repressed anger, jealousy and possessiveness to let out on the one who betrayed his sensei and went to another...not my opinion but it could be Kakashi’s pov) because I think power dynamic would come up a lot, even from apparently cute moments.

I’ll end this super long essay hoping that you didn’t fall asleep lol, and adding that Kakasasu was the first Nar pairing I shipped, which it speaks a lot about why I get so irritated when someone mentions it negatively.

#kakasasu #unfollow me or block me if this bothers you #even tho I want to be the one blocking you guys who have something to say against this #vivalarevolution #vivalarevolution: bonds

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renegadewangs · 3 years

Text

Van Zieks - the Examination, part 6

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I’m outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I’ve missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I’m using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what’s said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn’t matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

And here we have the second half of The Unspeakable Story, because the case was so long I had to split it into two.

Episode 5: The Unspeakable Story – Part 2

When we last left off, Gina was allowed to testify about the omnibus murder two months ago. Sure enough, she talks about what really happened and how she was threatened into lying in court of law. The judge realizes that he made a grave error in letting McGilded walk. Again, I'm not sure why he's only realizing this now when that trial ended in disarray, with the entire gallery shouting about whether it was or wasn't a gross miscarriage of justice.

I'm giving Van Zieks an additional scumbag point for this remark, since Ryu had already admitted to his wrongdoing and, despite Van Zieks's repeated warnings of 'are you sure about this', brought the details of the falsified testimony up himself. Don't pretend to be understanding about the position this puts Ryu in if you're going to be a jerk about it afterwards, Van Zieks.

Some shenanigans and Gregson whispering to Graydon later, Scotland Yard returns with the small box! Turns out it's a music box! When suggested that the court should listen to the music on the disc, Gregson interjects and unconvincingly claims the music box and disc are unrelated to the case. Ryu objects to say that the disc is fundamentally important for understanding the motives of the crime and Van Zieks, on his own accord, chimes in that the prosecution has no objections. When Gregson continues to stammer that the disc is police property, Van Zieks says:

“But it is policy of this prosecutor to leave no avenues unexplored. And you, Inspector, have no jurisdiction here to prevent that from happening.”

So Gregson and Van Zieks are definitely not buddies. Since Gregson is a key player in this case (and I mean that in a negative way, since Gregson is actively hiding important knowledge from the court), the fact that Van Zieks is turning a deaf ear to his pleas does in fact make Van Zieks an accomplice of ours in a roundabout way. Only for this particular context, though. The point is, so long as the prosecution continues to agree with the defense about unveiling key pieces of evidence, Van Zieks is helping Ryu achieve his ultimate goal. Also it's just plain fun to watch Gregson panic. We're having a jolly old time in this courtroom!

Unfortunately, when the box is played, there's no music. It's just weird tones. So Ryu is confronted with the question of whether the music box's sounds are relevant to the case or not. Naturally, I chose that they aren't relevant to see what would happen. I don't know why I expected any different than this:

“When you speak, you must mean what you say. ...Or be prepared to suffer the consequences.”

Penalty from Van Zieks! He's right though, I never learn. Okay, so let's say the tones are relevant. Van Zieks jumps onto that like a cat pouncing on a mouse toy, of course. He wants to know just what that relevance is. Ryu says that the chimes aren't necessarily music, and Van Zieks pursues relentlessly. “Well, now that you've told us what they are not, I'm sure the court would like to hear what they are. Do enlighten us, my Nipponese friend.” This is all very standard fare, of course. In any Ace Attorney game, the player has to outline their reasoning in steps, which means the prosecution and/or the judge will continue to ask for elaboration until all the details are out in the open. Of course, Van Zieks has to be a jerk about it as he follows it up with the words “Surely you have an idea in mind? Because if not... It will be the death of your ill-formed argument!” Eesh. Harsh wording for such a simple concept of 'your argument is void if you don't tell us exactly what you mean'. What's bothersome about these moments is that often, the player already has an exact idea in mind, but the game's dialogue will beat around the bush a bit more and really rub it in. (example: Iris telling Ryu at this very moment that the music box isn't broken at all and it's meant to play these particular chimes.) But because the player isn't given the option to just figure this out for themselves and then gets scolded by the prosecution for 'taking too long', naturally the player may get frustrated.

I'm getting there! SHEESH! It's not my fault Iris is distracting me! I had the evidence ready to present like two minutes ago!

Anyway, Ryu finally links the chimes to government messages being intercepted and leaked to other countries. These messages are usually telegraphed in morse code, so it should be obvious where Ryu's going with this. Van Zieks looks horrified at the notion of the disc containing secrets in morse code. Still, alongside Ryu he works through the logic of what happened and how McGilded would've been involved in this. Graydon, who works at a telegraph office, is of course the prime suspect for intercepting those secrets and that's the reason why he broke into the pawn shop to recover the disc. Graydon is outraged by the accusation, saying “I've had to stand here in silence while that pretentious foreign lawyer has been prattling away!”, but Van Zieks cuts him off with an objection.

“The prosecution demands the witness testifies... in response to the accusations brought by the defense!”

It's Mrs. Garrideb all over again! Yes! So just to reiterate, the prosecution has nothing to gain by doing this, the way I see it. Ryu can't actively prove any of his theories, he's got no hard evidence. The only thing Ryu can do at this point is have Graydon testify and hope that he'll slip up; and Van Zieks is supporting this notion instead of demanding to see this currently non-existent evidence. So Graydon testifies, the topic of morse code comes up again, and we get a lesson in the basics of how it works with the dots and the dashes.

Surely it can't be that a prosecutor in an Ace Attorney game is being passive aggressive again? Anyway, turns out the music box doesn't play morse code at all because instead of dots and dashes, there's only one of the two. The testimony continues on to address that Graydon's last name used to be Milverton, a fact which causes Graydon to react very heavily and attempt to deny it. Van Zieks subtly reminds him that this effort is futile, since Graydon is a communications officer attached to civil service. His personal details would've been thoroughly checked when he was appointed to his position.

I enjoy it when Van Zieks finally gets turned around to point his sharp finger and sharp words towards people who actually deserve it. Yes, he's ferocious and a somewhat horrible person, but Graydon had this coming for being, y'know, a literal murderer who tried to frame a teenage girl. Van Zieks even reminds Graydon of the same sentiment (“it would really take no time at all for the court to subpoena those records”) later when Graydon continues to deny that Mason Milverton was his father. Good boy, Van Zieks. You're learning that not all British citizens are upstanding and it's okay to accuse some of them of wrongdoing. Because remember, in earlier trials when Ryu would indirectly accuse witnesses (or juror no 4) of lying or criminal activity, Van Zieks would overreact with an “HOW DARE YOU, SIR” of sorts. But not this time, oh no. How dared Graydon?

So with the relation between Graydon and the victim of the omnibus murder proven, we've made headway, but still not enough. So long as the music box chimes seem irrelevant, we don't have the full story to pin Graydon down for anything. For this reason, Ryu gets back on that topic and insists it's very much possible for the disc to contain secret messages. Van Zieks is still not quite convinced.

Covering his insecurities with fancy speech, I see. Van Zieks can act as smart as he wants, but the brutal truth of the matter will always be that he's not smart enough to take evidence in his own two hands and flip it over or open it up. Ryu's the only one who takes the practical approach, opens the bottom and finds out that the music box can actually play two discs at the same time. One for dots and one for dashes, which means there's a second disc out there. So with this out in the open, it's time for everyone's favorite type of Ace Attorney tennis: The back and forth truth reveal! Ryu and Van Zieks take turns in detailing the chronology of Graydon's illegal dealings with McGilded, with negotiations apparently turning sour in the omnibus two months ago, and thus the brickmaker met his end. McGilded attempted to hide the stolen disc by sticking it in his coat and pawning it at the pawnshop, but Graydon found out about this, etc. We've all played the case, we all know the story.

Graydon ultimately admits to having been at the crime scene that night, but still refuses to admit he worked with McGilded or stole government secrets. (Okay okay, ALBA, your denial is too powerful to let this game end, have it your way.) Ryu surmises that only Graydon could have shot Windibank, as he would've been the third intruder holding a third gun. Graydon flips this logic around; now that he's admitted he was at the crime scene that night, he can also admit to 'what he saw' as a 'key witness'. He claims that he saw the moment Windibank was shot by the pickpocket and he took the third gun afterwards, and he's ready to testify about it. Van Zieks, who should technically be jumping at the opportunity to hear decisive testimony for his precious guilty verdict, is instead not amused at all.

“If it is shown that your claim is false, you will have incriminated yourself as the killer.”

And these are some very telling lines once again. Why would he warn Graydon about this if he didn't have reason to believe those claims would be proven false? Why would he think Graydon could incriminate himself as the killer if he were 100% convinced that Gina is the culprit? He must know by now there's a strong chance that Gina is innocent and Graydon is the real killer. But sure enough, Graydon testifies about watching through a peephole and seeing blood spatter over the coat. Blood which he couldn't know is there unless he saw the murder happen. So the judge wonders whether the coat can be tested for blood and indeed, Van Zieks confirms that it can. A German scientist discovered that test 'very recently' and it's already being used in several courts around the globe because this test was actually, y'know, verified in the field of science.

“Ideas are no use to us here. In science, as in law, theories must be proven before they stand.” “We could shatter all vestiges of doubt within minutes!”

rip. To be clear, it doesn't seem as if Van Zieks actually knows for certain there's blood on the coat, because how could he? His insistence on the blood test doesn't seem to be motivated by hope of 'cornering Gina because the blood will definitely be there'. Rather, I think he just wants to either prove or disprove Graydon's testimony so we can all get on with our lives. Plus, I think he may want to flaunt these 'official methods' just to diss (S)Holmes's methods some more. While waiting for the results, Ryu is allowed to cross-examine the very suspicious peephole testimony. Despite Ryu being the one to press Graydon at every statement, Van Zieks will occasionally chime in with questions of his own to get some clarification. Which is funny, because the prosecution isn't the one who has to cross-examine witnesses. Van Zieks should technically be staying out of it. The fact that he's butting in to needle Graydon some more is just... I don't know, it's another one of those very telling moments, I suppose. Again, he probably already suspects that Graydon is the real killer.

The cross-examination is put on hold when the test results finally come back, confirming the blood on Gina's coat. Ryu still tries to save his case by saying the blood actually belonged to Mason Milverton, but that's obviously a very dangerous route to take.

“Did you not argue fervently for McGilded's innocence? And yet now that the man is dead... You brand him as a murderer? Your conduct shatters any shred of respect you may have earnt for yourself in this country!”

We all know he was a murderer for real. Van Zieks knows this more than anyone in the courtroom (well, except maybe Graydon). Besides, Gina testified about this like fifteen minutes earlier. To be frank, the fact that Ryu is admitting to this openly should actually warrant more respect as opposed to breaking it down. Because, remember, Van Zieks gave Ryu several options two months ago to blindly defend McGilded and instead of taking those opportunities, Ryu instead admitted he couldn't say for certain whether there was foul play happening. I think what's going on here may be that Van Zieks is emotionally conflicted. He was already buying into the theory that Gina is innocent and Graydon is the real killer, but the blood on the coat threw a wrench into it all. Graydon hypothetically could only have the coat knowledge if he'd seen it happen, which makes Gina the real killer after all. With something so conclusive, any belief he might've invested into Ryu's integrity has just been 'betrayed' and indeed, if Ryu's integrity is in doubt, anything else to come from him will also be relentlessly drawn into question. That doesn't just apply to Van Zieks; all the jury members who were on Ryu's side before immediately, unanimously vote guilty. Van Zieks assumes that there will be another Summation Examination, as has become the norm.

Ryu grows desperate, because changing the jury's minds is going to be exceptionally difficult now. Thankfully, our hero (S)Holmes appears! That mischievous scamp!

“Detective (derogatory)”. I think it would've been an interesting plotline if (S)Holmes actively investigated the Professor case back then, perhaps even at Van Zieks's request, and failed to find the killer in time to prevent Klint's death. That would explain why Barok now thinks so badly of (S)Holmes and the amazing detective he's described as in the novels. Unfortunately, the second game never really addresses whether (S)Holmes played a part in the Professor investigation and if so, why it ultimately came down Genshin's duel and Gregson forging evidence to 'close the case'. You'd think that if (S)Holmes investigated the deaths, he and his partner would've tracked down the real killer long before things could escalate that badly.

Anyway, (S)Holmes asks for five minutes of the court's time to pass some evidence on to the defense. Van Zieks begins by saying that the trial has already taken up many hours of the court's time. So 'having spent that long already...' Gregson cuts him off to agree, saying that since they've spent so long already, they don't want to waste even more time. Unfortunately for him, that's not what Van Zieks was about to say at all.

So he's fully on our side again! Hurray! All well and good, but he does still fling one of his chalices later to signify the five minutes are up. (S)Holmes thanks Van Zieks for allowing the brief recess, the reply being that he needs no thanks, since “the die is cast”. In other words, they've already reached a point of no return here. At first this seems like a very cryptic dismissal of gratitude, but what Van Zieks is actually saying is that the jurors have already made up their minds and settled on guilty. “Any attempt to alter the verdict now would be utterly futile.” Which still doesn't say much about whether Van Zieks believes they're headed in the right direction, it only says that he doesn't believe Ryu can convince them to change their minds this time.

Surprise! Ryu doesn't have to! When (S)Holmes came into the room in disguise to deliver the lab results of the coat, the cross-examination of Graydon was actually suspended. This means that, by law, Ryu has the right to continue that cross-examination instead of turning to the jurors for the Summation Examination. Van Zieks suffers through his damage animation (which has been rarely seen by this point in the game and honestly, it's a delight to watch), calling the whole matter absurd. This is the law, Ziekie boy! Deal with it! So with this final chance granted, Ryu presents the catflap device to debunk Graydon's testimony about the peephole. Susato tampered with the crime scene and made that cat flap mere minutes after Windibank was shot. So if the cat flap wasn't there before, how could Graydon possibly have witnesses what he claims to have witnessed?

Oh, he's thrown off now. He's got no idea what to believe anymore. I can't blame him; who would expect a trial to take a turn like this? We're getting close, but Van Zieks has one more obstacle to throw our way, as all prosecutors do. How can we prove that the peephole flap was made after the crime as opposed to before it? “When was the peephole cut? The prosecution demands proof of your answer!” Again, this is par for the course. This is what any prosecutor would demand. Evidence is law in Ace Attorney world and Van Zieks needs tangible proof that Ryu isn't just a 'lying traitor' like Genshin was. Naturally, we have proof and Van Zieks is the one we have to thank for that.

Considering Van Zieks is the one who showed up to court that day with a big stack of photographs from that very same 'infernal camera', this line will never stop cracking me up. So now we know for sure the peephole was made after Windibank was shot! Unfortunately, in submitting evidence we now also know one other thing.

To be fair, Susato didn't know it was a legit murder scene until the cat flap was created and they could see the body. Up until that point, it was just a scene for breaking-and-entering, along with (S)Holmes shooting. I'm sure that was taken into account when discussing the punishment later on, though. Anyway, we've proven Graydon's perjury, but Van Zieks insists we still haven't quite proven that he's a killer. Luckily, Ryu's already two steps ahead of Van Zieks here. Since we've proven that Graydon was lying about what he saw, the question is now how he knows about these things to begin with. He couldn't possibly have seen the peephole with his own eyes, so how did he know it was there? And how did he know about the blood on the coat? Gregson once again decides to interject, asking Van Zieks for 'a word, please'. He wants to leave the courtroom and return to the station to put in his report.

“You will remain exactly where you are until this trial concludes.”

Heeheeh. Brutal. So with Gregson forced to stay, Ryu is free to insinuate that information about the crime scene must've been leaked to Graydon. And since Graydon had no idea he'd be summoned to court to testify on the murder, he could only have received the information after arriving at the Old Bailey. The only person with the opportunity to pass that information to him (in the middle of a trial, I might add) was Gregson. Gregson immediately barks that he had no reason to leak information about the investigation to someone like Graydon, but we know that's not true. Ryu suggests there was a deal.

I really enjoy this particular expression on Van Zieks, and it fits especially well in this context. While he usually looks very calm and cold on the surface, he now looks outwardly ferocious, slightly unhinged. Perhaps even in pain. This is the face of betrayal and humiliation. We learn in the second game that Van Zieks had already suspected Gregson of having dirty hands when it comes to the Reaper, so I expect this insinuation hits extra hard now. It's confirming to Van Zieks that Gregson is indeed not above dirty tactics. He doesn't take it lightly, of course. “With the stakes so high, the prosecution is not prepared to listen to baseless charges. It is incumbent on the defense now to present evidence in support of this diabolical claim.”

So let's do it. It all comes down to the music box disc and the stolen government secrets, of course. Gregson admits that he was ordered to retrieve the stolen information and do it “on the q.t.” Top secret mission, this one, though earlier on it was implied to have been ordered by Stronghart. Van Zieks concludes that Gregson objected so heavily to the disc being used as evidence because he knew of the information on it. Gregson replies that he realized there was a possibility of it. Since we know the music box plays two discs, the deal must've involved this second disc. Van Zieks is now thinking ahead very quickly, here. He asserts that since Gregson is a Scotland Yard detective, he would've approached this deal with extreme caution and not simply taken Graydon's word for it. He would have asked for the article in question to be handed to him immediately and so, it stands to reason the second disc is in the courtroom at that very moment. Gregson doesn't take lightly to the accusations and when Ryu suggests a cavity- sorry, I mean body search, Gregson agrees to it without so much as a flinch. Suspicious behavior, to say the least. But this means the body search is allowed and everything rests on the outcome.

“If, following the search of the inspector's personal effects, no disk is found... You will be deemed unfit for court service, this trial will end and my country's government will formally demand of yours that you are severely reprimanded.”

But Van Zieks, if Ryu were deemed unfit for court service, who would you face in hectic turnabout trials? He's your one true nemesis now, remember? The judge agrees with Van Zieks's sentiments, but Iris has some very interesting insight: “You're just threatening Runo because you're scared!” Since Iris is one of the most clever characters in the games, we have to examine this statement further. If he's scared, then what's he scared of? My guess would be the firm, undeniable confirmation that Gregson is willing to screw with a fair trial and let a killer walk free. Yes, he was ordered to do this by his superiors (STRONGHART), but it doesn't change that Gregson is throwing an innocent girl under the omnibus to get what he wants. And again, keep this in mind, Van Zieks already held suspicions that Gregson had something to do with the Reaper curse. But they were friends once; Gregson was Klint's friend. There's a difference between suspecting an old buddy of being up to no good and hard evidence that it's true. What adds credence to this being the reason of Van Zieks's fear is one of the game's recurring themes: You mustn't look away from the truth, no matter how blinding it is. No matter how painful, it needs to be acknowledged.

So the game asks whether Ryu still insists on the search, knowing there'll be grave consequences if nothing is found. By this point I was so tired that I didn't choose any of the other options and went straight for the correct answer: Search someone else! Gregson's being so cool about it that we can already surmise he doesn't have the disc on him, but he did have the perfect opportunity to hide it on the taller Skulkin brother earlier in the trial. So Ryu insists on there being a search, and Van Zieks says:

“But your typical Nipponese stubbornness may well land you in hot water this time. Perhaps the lesson will do you some good.”

This sort of implies to me that Van Zieks has also realized the disc isn't on Gregson's person. He's known the guy for a very long time, and so, he'd also know that Gregson is easily flustered with zero poker face skills. There's no way he could look so cool if there was a chance of the disc being found in his pocket. So this is the point where Ryu reveals that he doesn't want the search done on Gregson, which does succeed in ruffling our dear old inspector. Gregson starts accusing Ryu of having lost his mind and the court shouldn't have to put up with this nonsense, with the gallery also erupting into chatter. Iris snaps and tells everyone to be quiet. Ryu's just doing what he was told to do and having the courage of his convictions, so they should all respect that and listen to what he has to say. The judge admits that the court is in awe of the defense's convictions and I could write an entirely different essay here about Ryunosuke's growth throughout the games, but I won't. Point is, the cavity- sorry, I mean body search of Nash Skulkin is allowed. Gregson absolutey has zero poker face without a doubt, as he tries to object to the search in the name of Scotland Yard.

“In this courtroom, only the prosecution and the defence have the authority to object.”

Gregson tries to sputter his way out of this, but Van Zieks says: “I have no idea what forces are in play that might influence your actions, but personally I have no intention of obstructing the course of this trial.” (Gregson literally said that Van Zieks needed “Stronghart's paw print” to get more details on the top-secret investigation into McGilded's shady activities, but sure. No idea what forces are in play. Okay.)

Pin 'im down and use the rubber glove, bailiff! The missing second music box disc is pulled out of Nash's jacket and Ryu explains why he knew it'd be found there.

Uhhhhhhhhhh. I think what Ryu's trying to say is that Gregson would rarely fly into such a rage that he'd assault someone physically, but... This man absolutely loses his composure all the dang time. Just ask the fish n chips he keeps aggressively chomping down or scattering over his shoulder. He doesn't strike me as a composed character at all, so to say he behaved “extremely out of character” is kind of off to me. But whatever, it proved our point so I'll let it slide. When the judge asks why Gregson didn't just submit the second disc as evidence the second he got his hands on it, Van Zieks surmises that if the information on the disc were revealed in court, it'd be problematic. Gregson once again confirms he's working under direct orders from the ministry (STRONGHART) to keep the stolen info on the down low. But now we've got a problem. Neither Graydon nor Gregson will admit that they made a deal for the disc (it just magically appeared in Gregson's possession then, sure) and so long as they don't admit to that deal, we still can't prove Graydon lied about his testimony in regards to Gina being the shooter. The judge is ready to turn the matter over to the jury for their final learnings, and if these people had any common sense they'd all vote not-guilty because Graydon is getting away with his nonsense through a sheer technicality. Even so, Ryu intends to put the squeeze on Gregson by playing the second disc along with the first to determine whether there's truly morse code involved. Either Gregson admits to unlawful dealings with a witness to protect state secrets, or those state secrets get played out loud for everyone to hear. Gregson warns him he'll be making an enemy of the entire British government if he lets those secrets out into the world. Ryu insists he'll stop at nothing to do his job and protect his client, no matter who he makes an enemy out of. Van Zieks pours himself another glass of wine in silence.

Yeah, a real shrewd, calculating man. Uhuh. Again, I want to take a second here to point to the symbiosis we usually have between prosecutor and lead detective. Even in the case of Fulbright and Blackquill, with their unique circumstances, they still worked in tandem. You'd never catch them bickering about whether or not to present a certain piece of evidence. It's fascinating to watch Van Zieks consistently ignore Gregson's pleas. Speaking of which, let's have a leg slam to shut Gregson up.

“I'm a prosecutor. ...I'm no Scotland Yard puppet. In this courtroom, my duty is to the law. So let me propose a toast. To uncovering the truth... by fair means or foul.”

YOOO!!! Get him, Zieks! There's absolutely no denying now that Van Zieks is 100% on Ryu's side. He knows that playing the secret message will cause Gregson to cave and admit to his shady deal. And once we know for certain Graydon's testimony is one huge sham... Well, as Van Zieks already said earlier, Graydon will be incriminated as the real killer.

So the box plays for about ten seconds with actual morse code this time and Gregson cracks like cheap porcelain. When Ryu confronts him with how this dealing would lead to the defendant being wrongfully accused of murder, Gregson just kind of shrugs it off. On its own, you might be thinking Gregson is a scummy asshole for this, but there's some very important factors to keep in mind here from the second game. First of all, very simply, Stronghart ordered Gregson to retrieve the info 'no matter what' and Gregson isn't in any position to refuse at this point. But then there's the Reaper's curse, which is way more important. Even if Gina were found not guilty, she'd still have to die. Not just die; Gregson would have to arrange for her death. I doubt he enjoys being in that position, so it's easier for him to just willfully sabotage the trial and have Gina be executed by the government. Some of the blood would still be on his hands, but at least he wouldn't have had to orchestrate some elaborate death trap himself, leading to all the blood on his hands. (Cool justification, still second-hand murder.)

Uh, wait, this is a Van Zieks essay, not a Gregson essay. So anyway, after Gregson gets choked by Graydon and nobody steps in to help him, we finally get the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Graydon has a semi tragic backstory and he was the one who cause the omnibus fire.

I guess Graydon wasn't too familiar with the Reaper's curse. Either that, or he didn't believe it was real. So now, to reiterate, we're told several times that anyone prosecuted by Van Zieks is doomed, but only one of the defendants Ryu's had so far has died a tragic death and it wasn't even because of the Reaper's curse. It was because someone else sought revenge, so even if Van Zieks hadn't been the prosecutor, McGilded still would've died. Graydon then goes on to talk about what happened in the pawnbrokery and how he shot Windibank without even thinking about it. Van Zieks has something to say about this.

“A man who used his wealth and influence to distort the facts and escape justice for the crime of murder. What tragic irony... For what you have done... is exactly the same. You've become the very monster you saw, and despised so deeply, in McGilded.”

I feel like this is even more elaborate setup to the fact that Van Zieks's brother, a wealthy and influential man, was actually a mass murderer. For bonus points: 'someone realized the wealthy man was a murderer, knew he wouldn't be confronted with his crimes and therefore took matters into his own hands with vigilante justice'. Does that sound familiar too? Gosh, I love foreshadowing. The judge tells Gregson he'll have to face charges as well, with Van Zieks chiming in that even if it was in the line of duty, Gregson's crime is a serious and inexcusable one. With that, the attention is turned to the defense. The judge says that the morse code thing was an unexpected revelation (and this is said in a complimenting sort of way), with Van Zieks unable to stay silent on this:

“In fact, I think we should applaud my learned friend's courage here today. I propose a toast. To demanding that government secrets be disseminated before the entire courtroom!”

Hee hee... Well, Gregson did warn him beforehand that he'd be making an enemy of the British government if he played those music discs. Ryu becomes very flustered and apologizes, but the telegraph juror interjects here to say that the dots and dashes weren't really morse code. Rather, it was just gibberish to her. So despite Iris looking thoughtful, it seems we didn't spill any beans after all and the matter is dropped. We move on to our verdict, a unanimous not-guilty for Gina Lestrade. Hurray!

Now there's a very clumsy scene transition of Ryu and Van Zieks standing in the abandoned courtroom, facing one another. I suppose Van Zieks made some sort of gesture for Ryu to hang back so they could speak in private? It's odd for them to still be standing behind their respective benches, though. Since court's dismissed, it'd be easy for them to just walk up to one another instead of shouting across an empty room. It may be symbolism that there's still a gaping void between the two of them; the Professor incident. Or maybe I'm giving the game too much credit there and they just couldn't be bothered to animate new backgrounds for this single scene. So here we have a very important conversation. I'll type it out:

“I must say you've surprised me, my Far Eastern friend. Despite being a Nipponese, you saw through the pretence to the malice that festered within that Englishman. And at the same time, you saw through the grime to the surprising heart of your English client. You have a curious talent for judging character, especially considering our very different cultures.”

So here we have a telltale problem with racial prejudice. Van Zieks assumed that because Ryu has a different background, especially culturally, he wouldn't be able to understand or relate to English citizens. We've seen this sentiment before in case 1-4, where Van Zieks is shocked that Ryu would understand the mind of an English policeman. Ryu says that he doesn't think there's anything curious about it at all, because whether people are from Britain or from Japan, they're all human beings. They're not so different on the inside. Ryu is effectively saying that Van Zieks needs to stop categorizing people based on their nationality because that doesn't work. Human beings are human beings; some of them are good and some of them are bad. Van Zieks doesn't directly reply to this, instead confirming what we already suspected.

“You know, I took this case for one very simple reason. To lock swords with you once again here in the courtroom. When I encountered you for the first time two months ago, it reminded me... of toasting friendship and trust with another Nipponese... only to find my trust betrayed. Through you, I hoped to look into the eyes of the man I once knew... and try to understand.”

So remember in the previous essay when I surmised that the torrid look of hatred in Van Zieks's eyes was directed at someone who died ten years ago? Well, it's confirmed here. Van Zieks didn't see a fresh newbie whenever he looked at Ryu; he saw Genshin Asogi. The betrayal which took place ten years ago was never given closure. Sure, Van Zieks managed to send Asogi to the gallows to exact 'justice' and get some form of payback, but he was never given Asogi's motives. He never got to confront this man with the emotional turmoil or the hurt, because he wouldn't have been given the opportunity to do so and even if he'd tried, he wouldn't have gotten satisfactory responses. Asogi was abruptly executed and Van Zieks never learned just what possessed a dear friend to murder his brother. He was left with boiling hatred, grief and a whole lot of questions. So indeed, now he hoped to 'understand' Asogi through Ryu, but that was never an option to begin with. Ryu has no relation to that man, so Van Zieks might as well have tried to grasp that understanding by 'locking swords' with Beppo. It's about the same level of futility. Van Zieks's misguided attacks appear to be born from the assumption that it must've been a cultural thing; that perhaps betrayal is something which comes naturally to people from Japan. It's an incredibly stupid, naive way of thinking, because by simplifying Genshin's motives down to his race and cultural upbringing, it takes away the option that there's a far darker truth to be found. Quite frankly, I think Van Zieks is afraid of that truth, just as he was afraid of confirmation that Gregson's not above dirtying his hands. To affirm that Genshin Asogi's friendship was genuine and he truly was an honorable man would imply that he'd had a reason to take Klint's life. I'm not saying it was a good reason! I'm just saying... a reason. When Ryu asks for more details on what happened back then, Van Zieks won't reply.

“Coming to be known as the Reaper of the Bailey, and my retirement from service five years ago... It gives me cause to wonder if our meeting has some deeper purpose. So... Farewell, my learned Nipponese fellow. Until we meet again.”

(He crushes another chalice in the process of saying this, because of course.) The deeper purpose alluded to here, along with the earlier line that Ryu may one day learn the answer, can only mean that Van Zieks foresees something of a journey here. A path to walk down together with Ryu in which, eventually, the Professor case will once again surface. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing for Van Zieks, we don't know. I'm not sure he knows. But he did admit to having been pleasantly surprised by Ryu and he had a civil conversation with him just now, so the sentiment here is that Van Zieks is slowly letting go of some of his earlier grudges. He doesn't outright admit that he was wrong to be a scumbag to Ryu, nor does he apologize, but by admitting he was only attacking Ryu to make sense of something that happened in his past, he's basically admitting to his behavior being irrational. He's softened up a little, and with a second game on the way, it means at the very least the option of further character development is there.

The conversation ends and in the defendant lobby, Gina is reminded she's not in the clear yet. There's the curse, after all. Gina's not afraid, because he say she sees it, “the Reaper is a bit like Him upstairs.” Sort of funny to equate the Reaper to God, but what she's basically talking about is karmic retribution. Rotten coves like McGilded get what's coming to them, but she knows she's a good person deep down and so, she thinks she'll escape the curse just fine. Which doesn't say much about all those other victims who came before McGilded, mind. We can't say for certain they were all rotten too. Well, the second game will tell us whether she escapes with her life or not. And normally I would also take a look at the little 'bit' that characters have in the end credits, but Van Zieks didn't get his own bit for whatever reason. He's only briefly mentioned by Pat and Roly Beate, so that's it when it comes to his character in the first game.

Next up, we're moving on to case three of the second game, taking place six months after The Unspeakable Story!

#dgs #dgs spoilers #tgaa #tgaa spoilers #barok van zieks #hot dang #this trial escalated quickly #I took like 500 screencaps when Graydon went for Gregson's throat

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hatterstan-shameblog · 3 years

Text

The One With The Room Reassignment

Aguni needs a new room. For, well, reasons. Embarrassing reasons. Reasons that he’s trying not to disclose to anyone, least of all Takeru, who...well, you know how he is.

But it’ll all be okay.

Right?

(Because I simply could not have read this post by @missdrake without writing the Aguni prompt. I mean, come on, the opportunity for banter was just too good!)

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Rating: ‼️18+‼️ Do Not Interact If You Are Underage

Warnings: descriptions of sexual situations, referenced drug use, alcohol, threats of violence

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Of all the places Aguni could be right now, this has to be one of the worst.

It’s not that he dislikes Takeru’s room, per se. On the contrary, he actually enjoys the subtle opulence of the space, spelled out in caramel-colored woods and blue-green drapes.

It’s fancy, yes, but approachable. Comfortable, even.

But, in this moment, Aguni feels anything but comfortable. He feels antsy, he feels jumpy—he feels the angry little teeth of embarrassment nibbling at the ends of his nerves, and its making his palms sweat.

Are the lights in here extra hot, or is that just him?

...It’s probably just him.

It doesn’t help that Takeru is staring at him, those deep-dark eyes filled with their usual mix of subtle scrutiny mixed with glittering amusement and finished off with a dash of smug confidence—like a flourish of whipped cream atop a hot fudge sundae, if the whipped cream had the uncanny ability to see into a person’s soul and the hot fudge sundae was a lovable bastard whose modus operandi involved creating as much drama as possible.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Takeru says—and he is so very feline, stretched into a graceful sprawl along the black leather sofa, his lips curled into a serene, sleepy smile around the lip of a champagne flute.

Aguni doesn’t even like champagne, but he’s been taking small, nervous sips from his own glass all the same because that is infinitely more manageable than talking. Except, well...because he’s not talking, the situation is getting more and more awkward by the minute.

“Didn’t expect you to be alone.”

“I’ve decided to take the night off,” Takeru says, rolling his shoulders back in a slow stretch of spine, “The games, the meetings, the endless parade of unfortunates looking for guidance and reassurance? It wears on you, Mori-chan.”

As if to illustrate the point, Takeru heaves a dramatic sigh.

“There’s something wearing on you, too, isn’t there? You look...pained?”

“I, uh,” Aguni swallows nervously. This is the part he’s been dreading for the last hour, and now that it’s here...well. All he has to do is stick to the plan and everything will be okay.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

“I...” Aguni gulps, “need a new room.”

Although his delivery leaves something to be desired in the “calm and collected” department, Aguni is quite pleased with himself for having managing to get the words out without blushing.

...Okay, he’s probably blushing a little bit, but Takeru hasn’t teased him about it yet, so it can’t be that bad.

“Oh? Why?”

Aguni’s jaw tightens. The problem with Takeru (one of the many, if he’s being honest) is that the man can be particularly difficult to read. Even after thirty-plus years of friendship, Aguni can’t tell what he’s thinking half of the time, which has left him in quite a few...situations. Difficult situations. Confusing situations. Awkward situations.

Situations like these, where Aguni’s brain is spinning like a high-powered carousel on a pottery wheel inside of a giant blender and someone keeps pressing the ‘pulse’ button with a giant hammer and it’s all very loud and very unpleasant.

“The bed,” he answers slowly, “uh, the bed is...broken.”

“Broken?”

Aguni takes another gulp of alcohol—too much for one swallow, and his throat spasms around the popping fizz of carbonation. He coughs slightly.

“Yes,” Aguni clarifies, “Broken.”

Takeru rolls his eyes.

“Always the brilliant conversationalist,” Takeru says, dripping with sarcasm and waving his champagne with a dismissive gesture, “We’ve established that the bed is broken, but you’ve failed to mention how it is broken, and since I do not know the extend of the breakage, I am unable to determine if you do, in fact, need to be moved to a different room. Space is limited, Mori-chan. I can’t afford to be frivolous about such things.”

Had he not been so focused on maintaining some semblance of composure, Aguni might have teased his friend for lecturing him about frivolity—but now is not the time for chit-chat. He is a man on a mission, and the success of said mission is dependent on his ability to, as they say, ‘get in and get out.’

“The frame. It, uh...snapped off of the headboard,”Aguni answers carefully, “It’s...I can’t sleep on it.”

Takeru’s eyes narrow.

“Ah. I see.”

Silence settles between them once more—only for a moment, but it’s enough to make Aguni shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“I can fix it,” Aguni adds, “I just...need a place to stay tonight.”

There is a flash of silver—Takeru is one of the only people Aguni knows under the age of sixty who uses a cigarette case, which is both charming and frequently inconvenient— and it’s only a second before the scent of smoke and nicotine fills the air.

“I suppose that’s reasonable,” he concludes—and it’s a weight off of Aguni’s mind and heart that Takeru hasn’t decided to ask him a million questions regarding the “why’s” and “how’s” of his current predicament.

Perhaps there’s a chance he can make it out of here (relatively) unscathed.

So, when Takeru offers Aguni a drag on his cigarette, Aguni doesn’t much read into the gesture and gladly accepts.

“Hm,” Takeru says.

“What?”

“That is...so interesting.”

Aguni hands the cigarette back to his friend.

“Not sure what you mean.”

“I’m just reminiscing, I suppose,” Takeru says airily, “about the last time we shared a cigarette. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Something blooms in Aguni—something bad and uncertain.

“I don’t—“

“Oh, it’s been years. Three, actually. And a half. Tell me, Mori-chan,” Takeru furrows his brow, “can you remember where we were three-and-a-half years ago?”

Remember the ‘something’ that bloomed inside Aguni just a moment ago? Well, it has a name, and that name is ‘intense discomfort.’ He knows where this is going. He knows he’s powerless to stop it.

“Don’t worry, my dear friend—I remember,” he says, closing his eyes and smiling to himself, “Halloween. Osaka. 2018. I was Freddie Mercury. You were Elton John. It took me ages to get all those sequins sewn on...”

Takeru takes one final hit from the cigarette before stubbing it out into a (decidedly lovely) teacup that happened to be conveniently placed on the coffee table in front of him.

“Isn’t that the year you threw the statue of Colonel Sanders into the river?”

Takeru sneers.

“You mean the year I threw Colonel Sanders into the river alone because...somebody ran off with the mascot from that mediocre takoyaki stand,” he snips, “and then had the audacity to show up two hours later asking for a cigarette. Do you know why you asked for a cigarette, Mori-chan?”

“Oh no.”

“It’s because you didn’t have any on you. Because you don’t usually smoke. Unless,” and Takeru positively relishes his dramatic pause, “it’s after sex.”

Aguni doesn’t say anything.

“You thought you could come into my house,” Takeru shouts, “after having mind-blowing, soul-shattering sex—the kind of sex that snaps bed frames clean in half—and I wouldn’t know about it?”

“But how did you—?”

“I heard you,” Takeru spits, “howling like...like some kind of demonic wolf in the light of a full moon!”

“I couldn’t have been that loud...”

“Loud enough to hear from down the hall,” Takeru adds, “frankly, I’m impressed. And a little jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Of your lover. Nobody’s broken a bed fucking me lately, which is a goddamn shame,” Takeru sips from his glass, “Don’t suppose you’ll tell me who it was, hm?”

“No,” Aguni snaps, perhaps a bit too quickly, “making fun of me is one thing, but I won’t you have you making fun of my...uh, my...”

“Paramour?”

“...Sure,” Aguni says, “Look, the point is, it’s important that I—“

“Yes, yes, you’re about to lecture me about ‘privacy’ and ‘boundaries’ and all the things decent people like you are oh-so-interested in preserving,” Takeru says, rolling his eyes, “Believe it or not, I am capable of discretion.”

“You are?”

“When the situation calls for it,” Takeru muses, “or if it’s simply more fun to keep my mouth shut and watch the drama unfold. You having a secret lover ticks both boxes.”

Takeru jumps up from his seat and claps his hands together.

“So! I have decided,” he announces with great panache, “that I shall, in fact, give you a new room. A nice one, too. Maybe even nicer than the one you’re in currently.”

Aguni huffs a relieved breath.

“Thank you.”

“But!” Takeru flops down on the couch next to Aguni with all the grace of a fleshly-flipped pancake, “You have to do something for me.”

“I don’t—“

“You have to answer three,” and Takeru holds up three fingers in front of Aguni’s face, “of my questions. Truthfully. No skips, no take-backs.”

This is...well. This is not ideal.

Aguni considers his options. On one hand, he’s entirely justified in slapping Takeru across the face and shouting ‘absolutely not!’—and, honestly, Takeru would probably understand because, while he is an asshole, he is a self-aware asshole.

On the other hand, it’s only three questions. Maybe, if he’s able to keep Takeru on topic (a Herculean effort to be sure), Aguni can make quick work of getting a new room and, more importantly, getting the hell out of here.

“Fine,” he mumbles, “but make it quick. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I bet you are,” Takeru says, “nothing wears you out quite like an evening of dirty, nasty, animalistic—“

“Takeru!”

“—Depraved, disgusting fucking,” and he makes a very disgusted ugh-ing sound when he notices Aguni shooting him a pointed glare, “Fine. Lovemaking. Whatever. The point is that you got it in real good and that’s enough to make anyone tired.”

“Dealing with you is making me tired. Please, just...ask your questions so I can get a room and go to bed.”

“Fine, fine,” Takeru says, and he makes a great show of thinking the matter over, mouth puckering into a pouty little frown before snapping into a mischievous smirk, “Question one: did you shower before coming here?”

Aguni sighs and looks down at his shoes.

“No.”

“Oh, that is gross,” Takeru shouts, clapping him on the back, “I’m so proud of you!”

Aguni rolls his eyes, trying his hardest to look unaffected by his friend’s prying. But he can’t hide the blush from blooming on his face, because this is all very mortifying and he doesn’t particularly enjoy the way Takeru is looking at him with a devious little smile.

“It’s like looking in a mirror,” Takeru says, running a hand through his hair, “a less-handsome—but taller—mirror!”

“Got a good two inches on you,” Aguni says, and he relishes the way his companion winces. Although he is not a short man by any means, Takeru has always been just a bit shorter than him—which has led to quite a few jabs over the years.

“Maybe in height,” Takeru quips, “but certainly not everywhere else, hm?”

It’s odd, but somehow, Aguni has not yet gotten used to feeling his soul leave his body. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s dying inside, letting the pain shine out directly from his face and hopes it slaps Takeru across the mouth so he doesn’t have to.

“I couldn’t resist,” Takeru says between chuckles, “You know how I am!”

“Unfortunately.”

But Takeru is too busy staring at him now to give one of his classically witty retorts. To the untrained eye, it would appear that he is carefully considering something. Because Aguni knows that the words ‘careful’ and ‘consideration’ are not part of Takeru’s vocabulary, he steels himself for whatever batshit-insane bullshit is going to come flying at him next.

“Now, I know the identity of your new squeeze is off-limits. Which I am sympathetic towards, because I am a sensitive and caring man—which, by the way, is something you should mention to any and all available singles you should happen upon throughout your travels...”

There’s just something about the way Takeru talks—and talks, and talks—that sets Aguni’s blood to boil.

“You know why it took me three years to get laid? Because you,” Aguni snaps, “wouldn’t stop fucking talking long enough for me to get away and meet someone.”

“Ooh, so bitchy! Seems like you could use a little more of whatever you just had,” Takeru runs a finger along the rim of his glass, smiling to himself when the friction creates a high-pitched hum, “if that’s a possibility, of course.”

Aguni feels a headache coming on. He runs at his temples in a (futile) attempt to stave it off.

“I don’t have time for your games, Takeru. If you want to ask me if this was a one-night stand, then ask me if it was a one-night stand.”

“Fine, then. Mori-chan,” Takeru places his glass on the table and turns to face Aguni. He pulls his legs up and hugs his shins close to himself, chin resting on his knobby knees—like a high school girl at a sleepover, “Did you give that mystery individual the fuck of a lifetime because you knew it was going to be a one-time thing...or because this is the start of something more?”

“I...” Aguni pauses, “I don’t know.”

Takeru’s brow furrows.

“Don’t look at me like that! I was, uh,” Aguni rubs the back of his neck uncertainly, “I thought we’d maybe have that conversation when I got back.”

Takeru tilts his head slightly to the left.

“Got back from where?”

“Here.”

“Mori-chan. Darling. Dearest,” Takeru places a hand on his shoulder, fingers gripping into the skin a little more with each passing moment, “do you mean to tell me that you...left your lover alone on a broken bed...to come talk to me?”

“No,” Aguni answers, “Left ‘em in the bath.”

“Oh my God...”

“What? I thought it was a nice gesture.”

“You are so cute and hopeless.”

Takeru scoots close enough to Aguni that their hips are touching, the arm that had been gripping his shoulder now slung around his mid-back.

“Picture it,” he says, reaching his other arm out in front of them as if grasping at a ghost of a dream, “your paramour—whoever they may be—sitting alone in a bathtub. Naked. Glistening.”

“...Glistening?”

“Sparkling, even.”

That is...oh dear. Aguni hadn’t thought of it like that. And now he can’t stop thinking about it. His mind’s eye is conjuring up a most hypnotic display, involving skin and steam and a crystalline droplets rolling down the length of a neck and—

“I put bubbles in,” he admits, voice soft and unfocused as he drifts in his daydream, “Lavender-scented.”

“That’s. Wow,” Takeru sighs, patting Aguni’s knee, “You’re a stronger man than I am, that’s for sure. I simply wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation. I mean, you could be in there right now, but...you’re here with me instead.”

Something breaks in Aguni. Something he hadn’t been aware of before now, but was apparently a very important piece of whatever was keeping him from grabbing Takeru by the lapels and shaking him with all the strength and rage that has been building up for the past twenty minutes.

Because that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s grabbing Takeru by the lapels of his weird robe thing and shaking him within an inch of his life. He’s also yelling, something like ‘give me the goddamn room’ but it’s hard to hear over the deafening rush of blood in his ears.

“Not...the...silk,” Takeru begs—well, as much as a man being maliciously jostled can beg—while his hands attempt to loosen Aguni’s own from his outfit, “She didn’t...do anything...wrong!”

Aguni stops shaking him, but not because he wants to—no, he very much wants to continue shaking this annoying man until his head snaps off and flies out the window—but because Takeru has started to take on a bit of a sickly greenish tinge and Aguni is not in the mood to deal with that on top of everything else.

“I will tear that tacky thing to shreds if you don’t give me a new room,” he seethes, releasing his grip on Takeru altogether and enjoying the way the other man falls back slightly as he’s let go, “I snapped a fucking bed frame an hour ago; I could tear that and you in half without even trying.”

“Okay, but,” and Takeru winces, “I just...there’s a bit of a problem. Not...a ‘problem’ problem, but...I’m very worried about how you’ll react after that little outburst you just had.”

Great. Of course there’s a catch. There’s always a catch with Takeru—but Aguni had been naive enough to think that his frustrating questionnaire had been it.

“There’s only one room available,” Takeru continues, as if he’s trying to calm a very angry horse or convince a toddler to do literally anything, “and it’s...well, it’s...the one next door.”

“You mean,” Aguni says very flatly, “the room next to this one?”

“Yes.”

“With the adjoining door?”

“Hit me if you want,” Takeru says, pressing himself against the arm of the couch and, therefore, as far away from Aguni’s anger as possible, “just...please don’t shake me again. My delicate constitution couldn’t possible take it.”

Aguni is reminded of a poem—the Robert Frost one about two roads in a wood or something like that. The way he figures, he’s got two roads in front of him right now: the ‘scream at Takeru and maybe shake him a little more and also refuse the room’ road versus the ‘it’s only one night and things couldn’t possibly get worse than they already are so take the room and maybe try to salvage the evening’ road.

Both are tempting.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said it was nicer than your current room. Good view, spacious, well-decorated,” he says, “Except for the credenza under the TV, that’s hideous. Wouldn’t be mad if you, y’know, decided to break that in the heat of the moment...”

Aguni must look positively murderous, because Takeru immediately switches into grovel mode, which includes various assorted platitudes and exclamations of ‘it was just a joke!’ and ‘please don’t kill me!’

It’s kind of funny, actually.

“Listen,” Takeru half-pleads, “I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m over here. Hell, if I smoke enough weed, I won’t know I’m here, which will work out just great! I slip into a light coma, you slip into a comfortable bed with your sweetheart, and everybody’s happy.”

“You just want an excuse to get high.”

“No,” he answers confidently, “I want you to be happy and I want to get high. Use my mind-altering substances for good, not evil. You know, like a superhero. Or maybe even Jesus.”

Aguni decides not to bring Takeru’s half-joking-but-not-really God-complex into question, because that would launch him into an hour-long tirade about the importance of self-love and how he would be an excellent choice for the next mayor of Tokyo. And maybe he wouldn’t be the worst mayor Tokyo has ever had, but...well. He might not be very good at it, either.

And maybe it’s because he’s incapable of staying too horribly angry at his best friend for very long, but Aguni concludes that it’s best just to take the room and let the situation go. He’s had enough drama for one night.

“Fine,” Aguni finally says, “I’ll take it.”

And he moves to stand before Takeru can suck him in to another conversation.

“You know,” Takeru calls casually as Aguni begins to walk towards the door, “I still haven’t asked my third question...”

“You have got to be kidding—“

“But,” Takeru quickly interjects, “I don’t have to ask, because I already know that the answer is ‘yes.’”

“Hm?”

“Yes,” Takeru concludes with a wry smile, “you are happy. Even when you were about to about to slap me, I could see it written all over your face.”

Aguni feels...embarrassed. Again. He’s truly been on an emotional rollercoaster since stepping foot into Takeru’s room, and it’s almost poetic that he has managed to start and end his journey with a begrudging blush.

“Now, go,” Takeru says, shooing him off with a roll of his wrist, “get out of my sight and into bed with that sexy little secret you insist upon hiding from the rest of us!”

Aguni doesn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly makes his way towards the exit, his legs taking slightly-larger-than-normal strides as he attempts not to appear too giddy at the thought of returning to his lover. Maybe they can test out the bathtub in the new room. Or the shower. Or maybe just hang out in bathrobes and talk?

Honestly, he’s just excited to see them again. A nice, soothing presence. Something to help him decompress after...whatever the hell that just was with Takeru. There’s a seventy-five-percent chance that he’ll stay true to his word and be stoned out of his mind by the time they switch rooms, and a twenty-percent chance that he’ll spend the night pressed up against the door trying to listen in. The other five percent? That’s what Aguni likes to call the ‘wild card allotment’ because Takeru is...well, he’s just the kind of guy to do something completely unpredictable, and he likes to plan for that.

“Remember,” Takeru calls out just as Aguni is stepping out, “Break the credenza!”

And Aguni has never been happier to shut a door in his life.

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

PS: the thing with throwing the statue of Colonel Sanders in the river is a thing that actually happened and I think it’s really funny so that’s why I put it in here. Plus, like. Takeru totally would.

#alice in borderland #danma takeru #hatter #spicy boy #alice in borderland netflix #aguni morizono #writings and such #this took so long omg but it’s DONE wow what a time what an adventure #listen. I just. we need more of them being actual buddies.#like. just guys being dudes.

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ninjabelle · 3 years

Text

Key-points in Berserk if Guts was allowed to act on his emotions where Griffith’s involved - Meta

There is a theme with regards to Guts always wanting to run to Griffith when he is feeling emotionally shaken up and vulnerable and though it happens a bunch of times in a lot of subtle ways all throughout Berserk the 3 that majorly stand out to me are - going back in time - the hill of swords, primrose hall and after the Zodd fight when Griffith’s recovering.

Let’s start there, and this is also a direct (long winded lmao, forgive me) response to this reply by @bthump about what I wish had gone differently.

When Griffith gets injured after fighting Zodd together Guts wants to see him. I forget the exact timeline but I’m pretty sure this is effectively immediately after. As soon as he’s able to, but he’s stopped by Caska and whatever it was that he wanted to say or do gets put on hold until his talk with Griffith outside later on when, surprise surprise, they get interrupted again. This is also a theme and another recurring, deliberate one. Guts never gets to have a true heart to heart with Griffith and vice versa and this is something that drives the plot forward because otherwise those two would’ve run off into the sunset together long before the eclipse ever had a chance of happening. The whole of Berserk rests on the fact that Guts and Griffith have unfinished business and the entire story takes a nosedive into the dark and depressing once Guts overhears Griffith’s speech to Charlotte at primrose because, again, he’s stopped by Caska (again!! poor girl gets done so dirty every time she gets used like that but that’s meta for another time) and he does not have the opportunity to speak with Griffith about how deep that affected him either.

So, back to just after the first Zodd fight, though he doesn’t seem as deeply wounded and emotionally raw as he was after accidentally kebabbing Adonis while trying to get to Julius, I believe he was deeply shaken up by the whole Zodd encounter regardless, not to mention the thought of Griffith being injured, the guilt - god, the guilt, between the two of them I don’t know who would win when it comes to sheer amounts, but the key difference is that Griffith’s guilt morphs into self-loathing and ruthless actions and Guts’ guilt manifests as self doubt and a recklessness and disregard for his own safety that gets thrown back into his face when Griffith shows time and time again that he’s willing to put himself at risk to protect Guts in spite of all that. Imagine what a shock to Guts’ system that was, to be seen like that. It’s what he still wants, even now wayyyy post-eclipse.

If he hadn’t been stopped that very first time, I imagine him storming into that room and demanding Griffith explain why he risked his life again. His handling of the guards earlier and the fact that he never, not once during the golden age gave a single shit about politics and standing and propriety and would only participate for Griffith's sake speak volumes, because in that moment of intense feeling and on a quest for answers he moves on emotions alone, like he does in battles, where he goes with his gut instead of strategizing, and it helps the Hawks win, because he is the perfect wild card and so complementary to Griffith's more analytical nature. You could argue that emotive Guts = best Guts, but when it comes to directing them at Griffith in a productive way he always gets stopped one way or another, and I mean every. single. time.

In a perfect world Guts gets to storm into the room, where they’re alone and they do not get interrupted and instead of a non answer like ‘do I need a reason?’ Griffith would tell him exactly why, and the only you made me forget my dream is said to Guts’ face instead of thought during Griffith’s despair event horizon. Guts probably wouldn’t even know how to process that and would promptly leave the room to think that over, or not think about it and swing his sword some in frustration, but crucially that would have created an opening and a version of Berserk where Guts is mercifully allowed to seek out Griffith when his emotions dictate that he should.

So then, even if the story unfolds the same after this and Griffith still makes his speech to Charlotte and Guts still wants to see him that night because he just did something horrible and needs comfort, even if Caska gets thrown in front of him again to stop him there would be an opening - because it was allowed to happen before, and last time he learned he meant more to Griffith than he could have ever imagined, maybe he would know to take Griffith’s words about equals and see them for what they really are instead of feeling so horribly incompetent and resolving to leave.

In a perfect world he seeks Griffith out afterwards, and tells him he overheard, and Griffith would probably panic and start babbling politics as damage control, and Guts would throw in a ‘what are we?’ and Griffith would look into his eyes and say ‘you’re so much more to me than an equal’ (I’ll write the fic someday, I promise) and then... well. All I’m saying is when Guts is allowed to be emotionally vulnerable when he’s alone with Griffith that would give Griffith the boost of confidence he needs to finally open up and tell the truth about his own feelings. Because Guts isn’t alone there, Griffith’s just as emotional, just as fragile, if he allowed someone close. He’s just better at pushing all that down until his indifference becomes a mask he wears and a weapon he wields.

He could overcome it, but it starts with Guts, he’s the catalyst, as the only one that could have ended Griffith’s dream that’s only fair.

Now last but not least, the hill of swords.

In a perfect world, the eclipse never happened because Guts, knowing his true worth in Griffith’s heart, would never leave. And even if he did, for whatever other reason, having opened up to someone would have made Griffith a hell of a lot less repressed, and less likely to hit a point of despair so strong it triggers the behelit. After all, it wasn’t the torture that broke him.

But.

The eclipse does happen, and even then, with all the bad blood between them and al that hurt and anger Guts still want to run to Griffith. There is a reason why my favorite moment in the whole entire manga is that scene. It’s just- mwah. Kissing my fingers. So good. I almost have no words. Almost.

Guts, for a moment, forgets that he has to kill Griffith. And I say has because wants does not feel right to me. I don’t believe Guts, nor Griffith, nor Caska or anyone in the story for that matter really ever gets to do what they want. In the world of Berserk desire is a ticket that leads straight to tragedy. But Guts has to kill Griffith, and he forgets himself for a moment and is ready to run to him, and in that moment I see the echo of all the moments before where he wanted to do the same thing and was stopped.

Again it’s Caska that jolts him back to reality and his rage and away from Griffith, who even as Femto draws Guts in. Who even after everything he’s done has Guts standing there with wide eyes and the whole of his body straining towards him. Now if this sounds overly romanticized to you I say this, look again. That’s Guts, again, vulnerable and raw and hurt, and to who does he want to go? I guarantee if Zodd hadn’t whisked Griffith away when Guts went on his mad dash to run him through with a sword under the pretense of rescuing Caska it would not have been her he’d locked eyes with first.

Do I believe they would have talked heart to heart, even in that setting? I doubt it. But if Caska hadn’t been involved, and Zodd was nowhere to be seen I wonder what could’ve been said. I imagine Griffith as Femto wouldn’t have let Guts come close enough to physically harm his brand new body, but perhaps if he was slightly less in denial about no longer feeling anything he would have let Guts rant and rave and cry out all his anger instead of flying off, and maybe in seeing the pain in Guts for what it truly is - betrayal over hatred, a broken heart over unstoppable righteous fury - that would have made it easier for his heart to thaw, and perhaps then at least he would know that he meant more to Guts, like Guts meant more to him. And Guts, would he admit that to himself? That it’s not just anger and hatred he feels for Griffith? It gets hinted he knows that damn well several times post-eclipse, that the anger and hatred is just a front, the beast of darkness whispers it to him all the time. But it never gets to go somewhere, because he’s not alone with Griffith when it happens. Even now, even as enemies instead of comrades he’s still not allowed to be near Griffith when his emotions demand of him that he should be.

And that’s a damn shame.

Ninja out~

#berserk #berserk meta #griffguts #damn this was nostalgic lmao #i'm not real good at writing speculative meta and im better at talking about griff but here goes #rant rant #crying at 2am because the boys dont get to talk about their feelings #here we go again

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teawithkpop · 4 years

Text

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 6

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 6.0k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, sex with ulterior motives, dirty talk, dom!yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), throat fucking, spanking, clothed sex, unprotected sex, ripping clothes, degradation, throat holding (not to the degree of choking), licking, cum play, it’s nasty it’s just nASTY

I hope you don’t all hate me after this ahahahahahaha love you guys <3

☕💕 If you enjoy this work, please consider supporting me and my writing on KoFi ^^ ☕💕

-------

We must build a brighter future for PhysComs. They are people, just like you and me, and they are severely undervalued in our society. We employ them, we rely on them, and yet, they are ignored at best, and abused at worst, with punishment and persecution waiting should they dare to speak out about the horrific injustices through which they suffer. We cannot live in this double standard. I refuse to accept it, and I urge you to open your hearts and imagine what it would feel like to be needed but shamed. To be relied upon, but to never receive recognition for your efforts. They are people, just like us. They live among us, yet they are treated like ghosts. As of now, Physical Companions are employed by most entertainment companies, but are given no benefits and no job security. They have only the protection of their own agencies and any underground communication they might have between each other. These people should be respected. They should not be forced to live in the shadows. It’s time that we acknowledge and thank these tireless workers, and provide them with some support in return for all of the support that they provide this industry.

You read over the words again and again until they become a continuous stream of overlapping thoughts, filling you with utter confusion.

What the fuck does this mean?

You look away from your ComGear and pull up the document on Namjoon’s computer again. “Jungkook!” You call out to him, your heart hammering, and the door opens enough for him to poke his head through, his eyes widened expectantly.

“Yeah?”

You hastily gesture for him to come in, your eyes glued to the screen. “Come read this. Out loud.”

He seems confused, but comes up beside you and looks over the document, murmuring as he reads. “We must build a brighter future for PhysComs…"

As he confirms by reading back to you what you’ve seen with your own eyes, your confusion heightens to a fever pitch, and you almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Is this… an essay? About PhysComs?

“Wow,” Jungkook says softly, his eyes scanning the words in fascination. But when he turns to look at you, you can see that it isn’t fascination at all. His eyes contain something that stirs worry in your gut. “I, uh… I didn’t realize things were so bad for you.”

Pity.

No. No, this is bad. This can’t be happening.

Your brief feeling of ease at finally getting some answers vanishes in an instant as your mind becomes a whirlwind, spiraling down, down, down… You can see, clear as day, what will happen if Namjoon shows this essay to the other boys.

You’ll become someone they pity.

Pity is bad, pity isn’t hot, pity isn’t sexy, pity isn’t fuckable, pity means they’ll feel bad when you do your job, pity means they’ll use other sluts to lessen your burden, pity means they give you more fucking vacation time, pity means they’ll never look at you the same way again, pity means-

You don’t realize you’re short of breath until you’re gasping, hyperventilating, your knuckles white against the dark armrests of the chair.

Jungkook is beside you. He’s saying something but all you can hear is a high pitched whine and the thunder of your own pulse as it crashes in your ears, reminding you with every thump of your beating heart that you’re a failure.

You’ve failed.

You stand up, probably a little too fast, as your vision grows dark in the corners. Jungkook immediately goes to help you when you stumble, but you fend him off.

"I'm fine." You put a hand to your head, trying to force it to stop throbbing. "I don't need your help."

He seems hesitant to reply.

“Where is Namjoon? I-I need to-” Your voice trails off as stars swim in your vision. “Fuck…”

The room becomes blurry, and you feel weightless as you sink to the floor, the distant echo of Jungkook’s frantic voice fading into nothingness.

-------

“Some clients may become… misguided.” Madame paces in front of the class, checking everyone’s form and breathing as they lay on their backs at their stations, legs propped and parted as fucking machines train you all for stamina.

This is a relaxing class, despite the nature of it. After a while, you barely even notice the dildo sliding in and out of you, the whir of the machines becomes background noise. It’s a good chance to focus and meditate.

“They may come to hold… pity for you.” Madame bites on the word as she lowers her ever present riding crop, gently coaxing one girl’s legs further apart.

“They’ll think, aww, the poor little sluts are forced to be used. They’re being objectified. They don’t get a say.” You can barely see Madame’s arm from your position as she drags the riding crop along the girl’s thigh, and the girl shivers in pleasure.

“Pity is useless, girls. This is your job. You don’t pity the mailman for having to be out in the weather. Safety is key, and rules are in place for a reason. That’s why people never hire just one Physical Companion.”

The class snickers at this. The idea is preposterous. PhysComs are always hired in sets, proportional to the amount of clients they’ll be serving.

“You are never forced to serve your client. You are independent contractors. Anything you do for them, you do willingly. This is why we train. To broaden our capabilities, and make ourselves-” Here, she adjusts the setting on one girl’s machine. The dildo moves faster, causing the girl to let out a breathy moan. “-as flexible as possible for our perspective clients.”

You inhale steadily as Madame examines you, her eye keen enough to pick up every detail of your posture, every twitch of your muscles. She clicks a setting on your machine and you feel the dildo expand slightly in girth, stretching you out further.

You smile and sigh at the stretch, proud to beat your previous record for time needed to move up a size. Madame’s expression gives away no approval, but you can tell from the twitch in her lip that she finds you to be a promising pupil.

She moves on, examining the next girl in line. “Our job is to assure them. To remind our clients why we are here. When we are with our clients, we are purely sexual beings.”

The girl beside you has her hands clapped to her mouth, trying desperately to conceal her noises. You can see her legs quivering and feel a twist of pride at being one of the few people eligible for an orgasm suppressant. Until you get your Opticon implanted, it’s an excellent advantage for stamina training.

Madame returns to her post at the front of the class, her sharp gaze sweeping over each of you as she continues her lecture. “If you are pitied by your client, then you have failed to make them see you as useful. Useless toys are thrown away.”

-------

Regaining consciousness is like being pulled up from the depths.

You vaguely register the softness of a bed beneath you. You blearily open your eyes, and see someone sitting at your side, their face swimming in your vision.

“Jagiya,” Taehyung pets your cheek, his large hands warm against your clammy skin, his voice is gentle. “Are you with me?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, suppressing a groan as you shove yourself onto your elbows.

“Woah, woah,” He stops you, guiding you to lay back down. “Easy there. How are you feeling?”

You feel like shit, honestly. Your head is still pounding and there’s a ringing in your ears, though the dizziness has faded significantly.

“I’m fine,” you croak, surprised at how weak your voice sounds. You wish you had the strength to shove him off, but your hands are braced uselessly on his arms.

A quick glance at your surroundings tells you that you’re back in your bedroom. How did you get here? The memories of what you discovered begin to come back to you, and with them, your sense of urgency returns. You try to push him off again. “N-need to see Namjoon...”

Taehyung shakes his head with an air of duty. “Namjoon isn’t home yet, but he said to keep you company and make sure you don’t overexert yourself.” He rearranges your arms and tucks the blanket up around your shoulders, then reaches for something on the night table and gently coaxes a straw to your lips. “Here, have some water.”

You reluctantly take a sip. You hadn't realized your throat was so dry.

He seems satisfied, and gives a nod before setting the drink down.

"What happened?” You ask with a looming sense of dread.

“You fainted,” he replies somberly.

You squint at him. “Yeah, I meant after that.”

His face brightens in understanding. “Oh! Well, Jungkook said he tried to call Namjoon as soon as you collapsed, but he didn't answer right away so he had to leave a voicemail. Then he brought you back here to your room instead. Carried you the whole way.”

There’s amusement in his eyes, though you can’t imagine what he finds funny about the situation. “It was perfect timing, so I said I’d look after you until you woke up.” He smiles warmly. “And now you’re awake.”

“What do you mean perfect timing?”

His smile falters for a moment. “Because... I just got home from shopping. See?” He says brightly, gesturing to some shopping bags sitting by your door with big name brands on them.

You also notice that your door handle is broken clean off.

“What… happened to my door?” You gape at the sight.

“Oh, I guess it must have been locked when Jungkook brought you home.” Taehyung chuckles. “I don’t think an elephant could have stopped him. You had him really worried.”

Something inside you feels warm at the notion that Jungkook would care so much.

And that warmth is immediately doused by frigid guilt.

Fuck, what are you thinking?

You’ve let them get too close, you’ve let them see your struggles, you’ve let them see you as a human being, as someone to worry about, instead of a mindless toy. Namjoon has written an entire persuasive essay about the supposed plight through which he believes you’re suffering.

You’ve become too relaxed around them. Fuck, you’re sitting here letting Taehyung fuss over you, when you should be offering him your body, sucking him dry, and letting him fuck your brains out.

That document puts things back into perspective. Letting this… tentative emotional connection that you've started with them go any further could be career ruining. Not just for you, but for the rest of their PhysComs. The dozens of Secondaries they employ could be at risk for losing their jobs too, if your clients suddenly feel guilty for using your services.

And then what? The members’ sexual drives will get out of hand. They won’t be regulated, they might stick their dick into a lucky fan and end up with a pregnancy scandal to cover up, or they’ll become tired, sluggish, and distracted due to unregulated sexual maintenance, which could affect their performance.

You are a necessary piece of their daily routine, their health, their jobs.

Vacation be damned, you are not about to let Namjoon’s blind optimism put himself, the other boys, or your own career at risk. It's for his own good.

You should have deleted the damn document when you had the chance. But it would have been too late anyway. Once they see you in that light, once they start pitying you, then that flicker of doubt will linger in their minds no matter how much you try to extinguish it.

You need to remind them of your place.

Jungkook and Namjoon are lost causes, they’ve both been exposed to the document’s propaganda. But there's still that mysterious vote they’ll be having by the end of the week, presumably about your future. That means you still have a chance. If you can convince a majority of them to view you once more as a purely sexual being…

You try to clear your head, mustering your strength to serve, but before you can ask Taehyung how he wants to use your body, he speaks.

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving.”

Your whole body tenses. You don’t like where this is going. He’s starting to sound an awful lot like Namjoon.

Taehyung seems to sense your discomfort, because he leans closer and bestows a fleeting kiss to your forehead. “Now it’s time for you to receive.” His eyes are warm as he stares down at you, and he holds a glimmer of something secretive in his smile, like he just told a private joke.

Your confusion grows. “Taehyung… what are you talking about?”

“He’ll be here any minute,” he says by way of an answer, and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Just relax, jagiya. You deserve this.”

“What do you-?”

But before you can question what he means and why he’s acting so strangely, your door swings open, and Min Yoongi enters.

“Here to take over,” he says, his mouth and nose still covered by the same black mask from earlier.

Taehyung looks surprised, almost shocked. “Where’s Jimin? He was supposed to-”

“Asked me to come instead.” Yoongi lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Said something about not feeling right.”

You look between the two of them. Taehyung’s mouth flaps like a fish and Yoongi sighs, coming over to take his place. “Come on, you’ve been up here for hours.”

Hours? What time is it? You reach for your ComGear and find that it’s not in your utility belt.

“No, but Jimin is supposed to-”

Oh, there it is. Plugged in, resting on your night table. Maybe Jungkook saw that the battery was low. That boy is way too considerate.

“Why don’t you go check on him, then?” Yoongi doesn’t give Taehyung any room for argument, staring him down. “I think he went to the practice room.”

Why is it on the settings screen? Shouldn’t it still be in your emails from earlier…? Weird.

Taehyung reluctantly stands up and takes a few steps towards the door, shifting his weight with uncertainty. He looks to you, then back at Yoongi. “But she was about to ask me something.”

You put aside your ComGear, pushing away any prior thoughts to focus on your mission. “It’s okay, we’ll talk later,” you assure him with a nod, your mind whirring into action.

You have to remind five men of your place as their personal sex slave, if all goes well. The order in which you remind them of this is inconsequential. Plus it might be more effective to go for Taehyung later. He may be less eager to fuck you after nursing you back to health.

But Yoongi… you haven’t seen him since earlier in the day. Yoongi doesn't have feelings for you. Yoongi’s only ever known you as a slut, which makes him an easy target.

Taehyung doesn’t look happy about leaving, but he nods, retrieves his shopping bags from the floor, and gives both of you a final glance before shutting the door.

You wait just long enough to know Taehyung is out of earshot. Yoongi walks over to your vanity, takes off the jacket he’d been wearing and drapes it over the back of the chair, leaving himself in a plain black t-shirt and black sweatpants.

While he isn’t looking, you carefully sit up and shed your oversized hoodie, leaving you topless. Time to get back to business.

You take a deep breath and slip into your persona. It feels good to wear it again, you feel less dizzy, more focused. Ready to fuck.

“Did you miss me, Master Min?”

Yoongi freezes, his back to you. You suppress a laugh. You know you’ve caught him off-guard.

“I’m sorry?” He tugs down his face mask and turns around, only to see you in nothing but a pair of leggings, perched prettily on the edge of your bed. His eyes widen only marginally, but it’s a big reaction, coming from him. "What are you doing?"

You tilt your head to the side and cover your breasts with your hands, groping and squeezing them together. “What do you think I’m doing, Master?” You bite your lower lip, keeping eye contact with him while you feel yourself, rolling a nipple between your fingers. “You always tell me to show off my pretty body.”

Yoongi looks off to the side, averting his eyes to your actions, but the tent forming in his pants tells you he didn’t look away soon enough. “Stop fucking around. You're suspended.” He says, echoing your words from earlier in the day.

You hum in agreement, a pout forming on your lips. “Mm, but I don’t want to be.” You let out a desperate, breathy sigh. “I want to be filled with your cock, Master. I need it.”

You watch his adam’s apple bob. His weight shifts. His lips press together. Every movement you analyze for signs of weakness. It’s like playing chess.

“I know you want me, Master,” you purr, sprawling back onto the bed. You bring one hand down to your core, massaging your mound through the stretchy material. “I’m yours for the taking. No one has to know.”

"Is that what you really want?" He asks with a distinct note of skepticism.

You bristle, but try to hide your irritation. Here they go again with their fucking consent.

“Yes, of course, Master.” You mold your face into submissive desire. “It's my dream to be a good little slut for you. Being stuffed with your thick cock, pounded into the mattress, and pumped full of your seed,” you whine, grinding against your hand for effect. It feels good, better than usual, and you come to find that you mean what you said.

Sex actually sounds good right now, if you’re being honest. A good fucking might be just what you need to forget your worries, so it’s really a win-win.

You sense Yoongi’s hesitance, and you try to think of a way to convince him that you’re serious. The only off-the-clock sex you’ve had so far was with Hoseok, and that had been… far too intimate. But maybe some of the same principles could apply here. Hoseok had wanted you to want it. He’d asked you to use his name.

“Yoongi,” you breathe his name, dropping your character for just a moment. His eyes snap to yours. “I want you.”

He stares at you for a second. Two. Then he’s hovering over you, hands planted on either side of your shoulders.

“You want me?” His breath is warm and heavy, and you can see the way his pupils dilate when he looks at you.

Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected intensity. You nod, your lips slightly parted as he holds his body only inches away from you.

He seems at war with himself, his jaw working as his eyes roam down to your chest, then travel slowly back up, settling on your widened eyes, your pink bitten lips.

"Fuck it," he mutters, and surges down to crush his lips to yours.

It's unexpected. He's never shown any interest in kissing you, he's always preferred shoving his fingers in your mouth.

But you're grateful for that, because if he'd ever tried to kiss you before, you don't think you would've been able to keep your composure.

Yoongi is like fire. His lips are searing with passion, his tongue flickers and licks into your mouth. It's a stark contrast to his icy fingers as they brush against your ribs.

He's full of contradictions. His kiss is greedy but controlled. He grinds his thigh between your legs, causing you to moan, but his hands are feather light as they caress your breasts. He's fire and ice.

You feel yourself getting hotter by the minute, and all too soon, he breaks away from the kiss, leaving you gasping as he trails his mouth down your neck, biting a bruise there.

"Ah! Yoongi…" Your fingers twine through his hair of their own accord, and you're appalled at how easily you've given in to your desires. But it's all for the cause. You're saving careers.

He groans, his voice low and tempting as he kisses and licks your skin. "You really want me, princess?"

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. "Yes. Fuck, yes, please…"

"You want me to fuck that greedy cunt of yours? Fill you to the brim?"

His words light a fire in you, and you writhe beneath him. "I want it so much, Master. Please fuck me…"

He grabs your jaw. "You're my slut."

He says it more like a question than a statement. You nod as much as he'll allow.

He drags his thumb across your cheek and dips it into your mouth. "You're mine. I can use you however I want…"

You didn't think he'd be so easy to convince. Well, mission accomplished, you suppose. One down, four to go.

You suck greedily on his thumb in answer, widening your eyes to draw him in. He hums, pressing down on your tongue and making you gag around the digit.

"Good girl." His eyes are half lidded as he looks at you. Then something changes, a sharp glint appearing in his gaze as he removes his thumb and squeezes your jaw, forcing your mouth open.

He licks past your lips in a kiss of complete dominance. Despite his control, he's gentle, savoring your taste, praising you for it between breaths.

While your mouth is occupied, his other hand snakes down to cup your heat, palming you through your frustratingly thin leggings. His dexterous fingers find your clit faster than you would expect, and he circles the pads of his fingers there intently, nothing but the thin material separating him from your skin.

You buck into his hand, though you hope he doesn't keep you there for too long. You know the ache between your thighs will only get worse with no release.

"So fucking wet…" he mutters, pulling back from exploring your mouth to lick a possessive stripe up your cheek. "Tell me how much you want me, slut. Beg for it."

"Please!" You whine, falling into the familiar routine. "Please, Master, all I want is your cock inside me! I need it, I want it so badly…"

Yoongi exhales through his nose, and soon he's up and off of you. "All fours."

This is what you're used to. The familiarity of being told what to do, knowing what's going to happen next, it makes you relax. You get in the position he asks, wiggling your ass towards him.

But Yoongi needs no encouragement. He spanks you hard, rubbing his hands all over the smooth material covering your ass. "Fuck, so juicy…"

He's silent for a moment, and his hands still. You're about to say something to provoke him when there's the distinct noise of ripping fabric behind you. Your hips jerk towards him as he tears the seam of the leggings right down your core, exposing you.

"Yoongi!"

But he's already digging in, dragging his tongue along your folds and sucking at your dripping cunt. His hands grip your ass, spreading you apart for him, and you quiver, his tongue igniting sparks as it plunges within you.

You try not to let it get to you, but the lack of constant sex must have made you extra sensetive. Every thrust and flicker of his tongue has you breathless, squirming, needing more. It was never like this before, you have to pull yourself together. Keep control.

But Yoongi seems to like your enthusiasm. He hums, and the vibrations buzz at your clit, sending tingles straight up your spine. You let out a shriek of surprise as he sucks on the overly sensitive bud and you feel yourself throb.

Fuck, he's too good at this. How did he get so good at this? Your arms give out, and you fall onto the bed, your face buried in the duvet as Yoongi fucks you expertly with his tongue.

"S-stop…" you plead weakly, trying to avoid the inevitable disappointment that will soon follow if he keeps this up.

"What? I didn't hear you use your safeword, slut." He growls, landing a warning spank on your rear ashe rises onto the bed behind you. A shuffle of fabric as he pulls down his sweatpants. "You like this, don't you? You like being exposed. Being treated like a pornstar? Dirty girl."

You do. Fuck, you do. Especially when Min Yoongi happens to be the actor starring with you.

You feel him tap the head of his cock against your ass, slide the thick length along your center. "Look at how fucking wet you are already. So desperate... pathetic."

You feel a flash of heat at his assessment. Yoongi's always enjoyed a little degradation, but his choice of words hits a little too close to home in this particular scenario for you to fully embrace it.

You cover your embarrassment with a thicker cloud of pretend. "Of course I'm dripping, Master. I'm your fuck doll. I live to service your cock..."

"Damn right, you do." He shoves into you without warning, and you gasp for real. Fuck, you've been denied dick for less than twenty-four hours, and you're already off your game? Come on, shake it off. Get in the rhythm of it.

But Yoongi sets such a relentless pace, it's impossible for you to keep up. It's as if he's got something to prove. He fucks into you so hard it hurts. You moan and try to relax, try to cling to the familiarity, but you feel a weird pressure building in your chest. It makes it hard to breathe, hard to focus.

He takes your moans and gasps as a sign to go harder, and he leans over you, pressing his chest to your back. His hand slips around your neck, holding you in place while he growls against you, his nose digging into your cheek. "Gonna fuck the living shit outta you… yeah? That's what you want? Gonna make you see stars and beg for my cock, over and over until I say so."

You moan in gratitude. You're grateful he's so easy to convince. You're his slut, and he knows it. This is where you belong. You feel happy. Safe. You smile, closing your eyes as Min Yoongi fucks into you like a freight train, and you finally get a moment’s peace from the past day’s turmoil.

He suddenly grunts, lifting himself off of you. "This cock belongs in your filthy mouth." He pulls out of you and takes you firmly by the shoulder. You hastily follow his implications to sit up.

He grabs his cock at the base and guides it to your face, nudging your cheek and spreading the coated wetness across your skin. You get a glimpse of his length - rock hard, nearly purple, and leaking - before he stuffs it down your throat. You relax, humming and taking all of him and gagging obediently upon request, just like always.

"Such a good whore, yeah… just like that," he moans, bracing his hand behind your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. "This is how it should be, yeah?"

You hum around him in confirmation, glad that you're both on the same page.

"You're our slut. Nothing will ever fucking change that… " he starts rutting into your mouth, and you obediently let him fuck your throat.

He huffs, his voice dropping lower, “No use pretending you can be anything else.”

The change in his tone of voice is so stark, it gives you pause. You almost lose your concentration. He sounds almost... sad? Why would he be sad? Are you doing something wrong?

You redouble your efforts to please him.

"Look at you. So filthy." He praises you softly as you gurgle around him, drool starting to leak from your mouth. His roughness starts to return at the sight of you, and you beam with pride as he resumes his filthy dialogue. "This is what you want, isn't it? To choke on our dicks all day, huh? This what you signed up for?"

He pulls out to let you gasp in a breath, then shoves right back down. He does this a few more times, letting the blowjob get sloppy. You nod desperately between thrusts, assuring him of your devotion. You graze your hands over his clothed thighs, caressing him while he fucks your throat.

“Nothing else matters.” Yoongi huffs, and as his face swims back in forth in your vision, he looks resolute.

You surge forward to hold his length down your throat, swallowing around him, your nose touching his abdomen.

He groans, pulling your hair taut and holding you in place. "Yeah, that's it…. You were built for this, weren't you?"

He finally lets you come back for air, but no sooner do you take a messy gasp than he pushes you backwards onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"Say it." He grabs you by the jaw again, and his voice is low and soft, his eyes like hot coals. "Tell me what you want."

You sputter and gasp, still reclaiming your breath, but obediently say what he wants to hear. "I want you, Yoongi. I want your cock..."

He let go of your face and hoists your legs up, bending you in half. "You're gonna get it, too," he mutters, grabbing your calves, keeping them up and out of the way as he shoves his thick cock into you again.

You moan compliantly, gasping and staring up at him. This is all going according to plan, you just have to hang on and not let your throbbing pussy distract you from the goal.

"You want to be a whore, huh?" He asks, maintaining a gravitational sort of eye contact as he slowly slides in and out of you, torturing you. "Cum for me. Cum around my cock."

You shiver and within a few moments, clench around him convincingly, letting your eyes roll back as you moan in delight.

"Cumming on command, within seconds... look at that." He braces your legs with one arm and starts rubbing your clit with his other hand as he picks up the pace. You feel a jolt as his thumb circles the little bundle of nerves, and you actually flinch.

"So sensitive." He growls, reading your mind. "What a needy cunt."

You can't form any words, the way he's kneading your clit has your head thrown back, your breath coming in gasps. It’s never felt like this.

Yoongi picks up on your arousal, and quickly gains speed, fucking you relentlessly, with little grunts of his own as he keeps you spread wide open for him, watching as your pussy takes his cock over and over again.

After endless minutes of stimulation, your core is swollen and aching, but still somehow desperate for more.

Yoongi's hips buck and stutter, and without warning, he leaves you painfully empty, clenching around nothing. His cock in his fist, he pumps himself to completion, letting his seed cover your puffy, aching pussy.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it…" he grunts, using his cock head to smear his release along your folds.

You start to relax, trying to overcome the disappointment your body feels at getting frustratingly uselessly stimulated.

But before you know it, Yoongi is lining himself up with your entrance again. "You thought we were done?" He chuckles darkly, using his cock to collect cum around your entrance, then he sheathes himself to the hilt with a low groan.

It feels so fucking good, you can't think straight. You cry out, your body desperate and screaming for more but knowing it's not enough, and it'll never be enough.

"Yeah, you want it deep inside you, don't you, you little cum slut?" He mutters, shoving his fingers into your mouth, and you're grateful that he's muffling your embarrassing noises.

"Gonna fuck you like the worthless little whore you are," he barks, ruthlessly slamming into you, and you moan with every thrust.

You would have said something if you still had an ounce of coherent thought in your brain, but the sensations are quickly taking over. Your whole body is wound up, desperate for something. His fingers reach down to rub hastily at your swollen clit and your vision blurs, your pulse pounds in your ears - are you going to faint again?

No.

You peak.

A scream catches in your throat, broken and gutterel as pleasure takes over your entire body, coursing through you in waves, lifting your body off the bed, convulsing, throbbing through you, inside and out.

It feels so good it hurts. You want to stay in this moment, extend it for as long as possible, but you know there's something wrong. Your mind is so addled, you're scared, terrified, before you even remember why.

You shouldn’t be capable of climax. Something’s wrong.

Yoongi keeps fucking you, grunting as you clench around his cock, but you're clawing at him, begging him to stop, tears leaking down your cheeks. Something’s wrong.

He realizes you aren't moaning anymore, but wailing. Sobbing. Something's wrong. He pulls out of you, shouting to be heard above your panic. He looks scared. Guilty.

Just then your door bursts open, and Jimin enters the room with a shout, quickly followed by Taehyung.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

Taehyung’s mouth falls open, and he appears too alarmed to speak, apart from a very small, “Fuck.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What’s your fault?” Yoongi’s shouts at Jimin and Taehyung are drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears as your shoulders shake from dry sobs. Your eyes flash between the two younger members, their guilty expressions, and you remember your private conversation with Jimin just yesterday.

"There is a way to turn it off, in case of emergency side effects. But I can't just turn it off for fun. You have to understand that.” You rest your hand on his shoulder again, hoping he now comprehends the reason for your earlier outburst. “It's a part of my job."

"I understand. Sorry,” he says, giving you a small nod. He twists his mouth to the side, chewing over the revelations. "That must really suck. Not being able to cum."

He’s the only one you’ve ever told.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-”

Your ComGear. The settings.

You're too shocked, too betrayed, too sore to get up on your own. You feel some of Yoongi’s release drip down your leg, and a robotic voice fills your mind, drilled into you from the hours of safety lectures you’d had to sit through during training.

… If at any point the user experiences orgasmic sensations before, during, or after sexual activities, then this may be a sign of malfunction in the Opticon Miracle Implant, rendering the user susceptible to sexually transmitted disease and/or pregnancy. Side effects of a malfunctioning Opticon Miracle Implant could become severe, or in some cases life-threatening, if left untreated. Please consult your local physician and refrain from any sexual activity until the Opticon Miracle Implant may be examined by a specialist.

They’re all shouting now, and you feel your throat constrict in horror at the implications of what just happened. The words get caught in your chest, bubbling up with your mounting fear, and finally fall from your lips in a raw cry for help.

"Someone call an ambulance!"

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