#and that he would give them a foundation to start with to apply themselves WELL should they have never had the chance pre-hogwarts

[finelyageddragons]

Currently in love with the relationship between the Grey Wardens and being doomed by the narrative, especially with how the HOF subverts that relationship so here's a 3am rant about it. Enjoy! The wardens are ghosts. They are born by letting go of everything you had before and drinking poison to bind your fate to the darkspawn and promise that your life and perhaps more importantly, your death belongs to them. The whole joining is a terrifying experience, you're drinking the blood of monsters and seeing a corrupt god in your mind and waking up to see those who died around you and being told you'll meet the same fate soon enough you've just been given more time to get there because to sacrifice, to die is a warden's purpose. Even if you survive becoming a warden, your best case scenario is sacrificing yourself to end the blight but it's far more likely you'll die fighting darkspawn or even more likely lose your mind and have to go to the deep roads to be lost and have your death be your last act of defiance in the face of this overwhelming wave of evil waiting to rise again. The best thing that can happen to a warden is to die in a meaningful way because you gave away your life the moment you drank that blood. All you are now is a soldier waiting to die in war and hopefully take the enemy down with you. It is tragic and haunting and noble and so full of grief. Grief for the live you gave behind and for the one you'll never have. Every warden spends every day of their life hoping not for a future or any life for themselves but simply to make their death mean something which is an incredibly interesting mental state and I could go on about how that effects individuals and messes with their values so that corruption is rife but what started this whole thing is Fereldan.

A wonderful post by @sapphim (which I don't know how to cite but I wanna give credit so if there's a way please tell me) discussed how beneficial it was for the wardens that the fifth blight occured in Fereldan and how much they lost by it being solved so soon. To put it simply, they wanted to sacrifice Fereldan as a lost cause and use it as an example of why they wardens shouldn't be neglected. They wanted it to be known of how much of a sacrifice they make an how important their duty by letting the country of Fereldan be an example of what happens when no one is there to do it and that the narrative has doomed everyone, that the world's crimes will be paid for unless someone is willing to be selfless and bear the burden to give the world another chance. Andraste would have been a great warden I'm sure. In the eyes of the warden, Fereldan is tainted just like their blood, it is promised to the darkspawn just like they are, willingly or not it bears the duty that all wardens do and must make the sacrifice they do too. For the greater good. To stop the darkspawn. It's better you having a death that matters than a life that lasts. This is the psychology of the wardens and they are applying those same beliefs to all of Fereldan. Why must they be the only ones doomed by the narrative? There is no surviving this story and there is saving the world there is only killing the darkspawn before it kills you. Thedas is at war with the archdemons and until they're all dead, there is no peace, there is only preparing for the next battle. There is no building a life, no building a country, there is nothing to protect because it is all doomed.

The way duty and sacrifice and the promise of the Grey Wardens must alter their values and perspective on life is fascinating and there is so much to explore here but what's important for this post is that the foundation of their entire order is that they are already dead.

This then brings us to the HOF and cheating death. Duncan is like the grim reaper in Origins the way he comes and snatches your soul at the end of each origin which I honestly love and it ties in so well to the idea that wardens are ghosts given you die in every other version of the story without him but that's the story of all wardens. They all die a symbolic death at the joining so that's okay but then Ostogar happens. Flemeth happens. You should have died. Fereldan should have been lost. Remember, the duty of the wardens is dying not surviving but you did survive, snatched away by a god. Every other warden has died thinking their paying the price for an absent god yet this goddess not only favours you, she changed fate for you. Every other warden throughout history has paid the price but not you. Not Fereldan. You get to cheat the fate while it dooms everyone else. Can you imagine how that must have felt for the other wardens? How much they must hate the hero for stealing the martyr Fereldan was set to be and making all their losses naught but a tragedy when it could have been so much more? Not only did you escape your own death but you stole the value of theirs. You survived which goes against everything the wardens are made for.

Going even further than that, you have the dark ritual where you can actively choose to cheat death again. When every other warden has had to give their life, had to sacrifice and lose and grieve and poison their humanity as they did their bodies, you get to escape it all. Wardens have struggled for decades to have a foothold in Fereldan but you'll go so far as to choose their ruler for them without any consultation. You have been a warden less than a year, ended a battle that they prepared for over hundreds of years and sacrificed more hundreds of years fighting in the past and not only have you defied everything they defined themselves by, you have made them look like fools and decided their fate for them. You have stolen the meaning of the death of every warden, you have stolen their martyrs and the justifications for their actions and by keeping your own life and humanity, by resisting their poison you have made them all look like monsters.

The hero was doomed by the narrative as all wardens are but they rewrote fate, they stole their life back so many times and by surviving, they created a whole new narrative that ruined everything the wardens were built upon. The wardens were made to be ghosts, not heroes. They're meant to die and be remembered nobly so they can be redeemed for they had to do to get there but not you hero. You get to shame us all, don't you?

#I have work in like 5 hours but it is my duty to share my madness with you all #UGH I need to make more warden OCs #I can't fix him but I can become equally corrupt by his side #There are so many ideas in here I can't wait to elaborate on over the next few days/weeks/lifetime #Anyway good night y'all #Also hi Saph it was me thank you for encouraging this #Got a good grade in anon something both normal to want and possible to achieve #GOODNIGHT #dragon age origins #dragon age #ramblings #grey wardens #doomed by the narrative #idk how to tag things but I hope people see this I want to hear ideas #Rubbing my hands together and giggling like a goblin thinking of all the potential warden content #I'M GOING TO BED NOW BYE BYE

[asm5129]

Flash thoughts episode 9x02

Let’s get the headline out of the way—I freaking love Khione. She’s great. She’s interesting, she’s intriguing, and she’s performed really well by the ever exceptional Danielle Panabaker.

Her sincerity and joy is such an interesting contrast to the rest of the team this season—especially Barry, Iris, and Joe who are all dealing with 9 years of superhero life baggage and trauma. She’s also got really interesting and deep insights into people, almost piercing ones. Plus there’s her connection to nature she speaks of. I wonder if that’s some kind of power, or simply a result of her sincerity and fresh eyes on the world, uncolored by a long history of bias and regrets and the like.

It was off-putting to hear Barry and the other heroes talk so casually about sacrificing Khione’s life to bring back Caitlin and/Frost, barely thinking of her as anything more than a reason Caitlin isn’t there anymore, but I think it works within the context of how grief affects us. Even heroes struggle to think of every life as having equal value, because they have personal relationships too, and these heroes just had more investment in Caitlin and Frost—it’s just someone you just met is not going to mean the same thing as someone you’ve known and thought of as family for years. Obviously I’m glad Barry realized he was treating her so awfully.

I definitely miss Caitlin and Frost, but I agree with the team—Caitlin made her choice. For that matter, so did Frost. Both knew the risks of their choices. Khione is the result. And neither Caitlin nor Frost would want Khione to give up her life for them when it’s only just started.

I also think it’s really interesting that what she said to Hartley actually applies to Mark in a really deep way. Mark never really committed to becoming a better man, he just worked to be a better person to make Frost happy. Like Khione said—doing it for someone else isn’t real change. With Frost gone he’s lost the foundation for those changes, hence him “going rogue”, as Barry phrased it. Speaking of—

The new rogue is another strong one. A new version of The Fiddler, and while I liked what we saw of the new Captain Boomerang we got a lot more of Fiddler and I am very pleased with her. I think it’s a fun performance, a cool power set, and a solid presence. She also sold the fear in the scene with Red Death really, really well. Regardless of why these Rogues decided to ally with Red Death at first, it’s clear they’re in over their heads.

It was fun to have Hartley back, and I’m very happy they didn’t pull a bury your gays with his boyfriend but instead did this really neat thing of him and the others being trapped in a vibrational frequency out of sync with reality. It allows them to be saved through Barry’s ability to vibrate at a frequency that can see them, without undermining Fiddler’s claim about it being “a fate worse than death”—for being frozen just out of sync with life forever, I think that’s an apt description, and that doesn’t get undermined just because they could be saved imo. Anyway it’s just a really neat thing to do with sound powers.

Joe meanwhile is in a rough spot as Cecile gets closer and closer to being capable of field work, cuz he’s been dealing with the harsh reality of field work longer than anyone—both as a cop and as the patriarch of the Flash family since the very start. I think with all that experience with violence and pain it makes a lot of sense that he feels like he has to draw the line somewhere, and this feels to him like where it has to be drawn. I’m intrigued to see where this goes.

It’s cool to see WestAllen making sure to keep themselves provided with joy during these difficult times as well—we could all learn from that honestly.

And finally, I think Red Death framing her plan as “serving justice” rather than “getting revenge” is really interesting, especially knowing this is a version of Batwoman. We’ll probably find out soon if my theory is right about this being the Ryan Wilder from the Armageddon future. If it is, from her perspective Barry is the reverse-flash, and he did to The Flash exactly what Thawne actually did in the beginning of season 8. Would be a really interesting way to play with that warped future Thawne created, keeping him as part of the last season while Barry faces consequences for rewriting a timeline in which Ryan was happy, and was even literally about to adopt a child with Sophie. She would have lost not just that but all her other friendships and connections too. In this timeline for instance, Ryan and Iris aren’t friends, they don’t even know each other. All the years of friendship? Gone. Anyways we’ll see.

Overall another really solid episode for the final season.

On that note, it seems like the Arrowverse guest stars will be more of a chance to say goodbye this season rather than wrapping up any of their stories, which makes sense. Better to keep it focused, but I’m glad we will still have a chance to say goodbye.

I’m sad we won’t get to see Eric Wallace’s grand plan he talked about recently come to fruition. Season 10 sounds like it would’ve been amazing, maybe even a proper Justice League story, but instead the planned 200th episode is now the series finale. I have to believe that if the star wars prequels can find themselves real fans, and there can be a desire for The Amazing Spider-Man 3 with Andrew Garfield, the Arrowverse will find its way to the sun again as well.

#be kind #arrowverse #arrowverse positivity #the flash #the flash season 9 #flash thoughts #flash spoilers #season 9 #final season #red death #khione #caitlin snow #killer frost #barry allen

[obsidianlung]

The weirdest yet most illegal thing...

#governmentharassment #corporatecontrol #identitytheft #privacyinvasion

Right now in the process of looking for a stable job, I started to see a lot of wierd red flags in friends and property, and household everyday life. Work searches and seasonal work was good, until hackers in phone companies like trac phone, and free phone services would try to control my friends and life. I started to notice with free phones, every number I would store, my friend or family member would act awkward or different after a couple of days or even weeks in the phone. the free phones were causing a lot of my individuals not to sleep, I also started to notice very bad sexual problems with the persons number within the free phone. even with parents. I notice technology having its way with mother, and because I am a techy, I don’t think she really sees what I comprehend every time she says she’s going to do, or assist. I don’t think she realizes most of the attacks on her children come for her own phone. as well as my uncles’ phone. Since my uncle is a donor all it takes is for him to use your identity and your life wind up like the life of Hayden in the movie where he needed a heart. the enemy have been labeling me, and trying to tamper with phone devices, and even tried to mentally train individuals that fight back into thinking that trafficking and sex trafficking is okay. I can’t even take a piss or a shit without someone telling me what not to do or to do in the restroom. I notice the same thing when going to an interview, or applying. Why waste my time telling me your going to interview me or higher me, but when I go down to the interview you check to see if my social security is on the paper, and make a weird face when you see that im part of the minority category or indigenous population category. You can clearly see hatred for another or racism in the eyes of some of these characters placed at multiple jobs. The false files were eradicated, My groups told me the individuals trying to stick to me create files just to attach themselves to you. to try to give them a reason to lay on your case. When they really don’t have anything to have a case on me or any of my connecting foundations, bodies, hair, or body parts, let alone tech or video game systems. Sex cults began to say they were going to pick kids in my family to have sex with, individuals involved came from Chappy IP Addresses, Dacreh Wests addresses and Pings, Dacreh west looks like a younger version of Chappy, my uncle. These individuals are basic human sims/versions of people within a veil or matrix. They thrive off of control. I have so much proof of Illegal 3rd party and government strife oppression, and discrimination, for work place labor, I just found paper work for DFEH to start a case on these individuals. I no longer work at warehouse environments anymore because I started to notice really bad identity problems, and trapped work and home life. Then I started to notice really dark things like deep control, hatred, and the fact that someone was always hacking my progress, because of my smart mind(s). I was constantly badgered, begged or harassed to join an organ harvesting ring, and sex ring, as well as people smuggling ring, where peoples identities are inserted digitally, before they are put out there. A lot of my legal friends and family members were having their identity stolen from them. I was even told to allow my body to be used in manufacturing controlled and non controlled substances, Fentanyl for starters, I have a cup full of poison I spit out because I was putting the group out there, for disregarding the children, nieces, nephews, cousins, relative children of the family and friend groups. The constantly steal phones and vehicles I own whenever I visit a mobile home park community. I refuse to allow crooks to steal my phones or tech, especially if im minding my own business using my tech to apply for work. My things will not be used as a tool to get you to a place in my life where I mentally and physically will not benefit from. Success levels, stress levels, dopamine levels, etc. I was working pretty far making all the effort, until someone would hear how much I make an hour, and then I would get fired, or someone would try to say Im doing something wrong. I would travel extremely far for good positions, just to have self hear how much money I work, and they would sabotage a car, or have someone steal a car from me, or the gas that I put in the car would come up empty. Sold out type individuals would try to wait to hear how much I would be making, then they would go in there, to get me out just to replace me in the system, and I would start getting blame for illegals and criminal activity online and offline, and problems withing certain networks and infrastructures. But I notice the pattern stems from racism, and terror, and sex rings, not to mention the dead illuminati corp, a bunch of old sex addicts who try to gain control of your technology for a wicked purpose. pretty much a lot of old men that like kissing random little girls on the cheek and lips, and doing it in a way where it sounds innocent. I remember having a problem with apple, and the lady at apple asked if I knew that they were doing all that to me. I told them I knew something was going on, but other than that someone was asking for my help and I responded in an interesting way. think about how many family members are in a good position and then think about all the burning vessels of witches and bodies that put generational curses on kids and adults for no reason. when you see how much of this stuff is linked together, you start to think and wonder how none of that stuff was taken care of already because the criminals are not really as clever as you think they are. There was an individual who grew mad at the fact that I took a lot of oil and stored it away, oil and gas, fluids and drinks. These scams were and are so bad, they intercept a call ask for a social security number full social and I.D. for things not related for work purposes. they started to do this a lot so I started to change where I receive work at. Its funny because all I did was take a seat back, and watch how zombified everyone else got. they drug everyone so bad to the point where no one realizes they haven’t seen or talked to certain family members. they falsify a world of your own. I have seen traffic of individuals that look like versions of individuals I know come forth and not remember a thing and watch them melt like ice cream in a cone when we keep it 1hunnid. I sat here and watched the media and seen how bad this crap really is from network kkk, to kkk in the white house, and police force, to kkk being used on individuals in life, to kkk using the tactic that turns friend against friends, If I explained the lynching system to you, and why kkk does not need to make it to a sanctuary city you would be pissed. I just might let individuals know about the trafficking systems, organ harvesting systems, and baby sacrificing systems that politicians, police force, and illuminati systems use. once all those informations began to stream, I started handling personal attacks from criminals hiding in networks, I started watching public bathrooms being used in fucked ways.

[sneverussape]

slytherin house dynamics under snape hc

this was inspired by this post by fuocogo that stated that slytherins probably know sign language because they need to communicate with the creatures living in the Black Lake and that tickled my imagination. 

this will also focus on slytherin house specifically with snape as the head of house, because i like to think that after his own experiences he would have reformed a lot of what goes on inside, especially with him aligning to the light.

disclaimer: i haven’t reread the books in over a decade. i also don’t play any of the games so everything is really just based on how i remember the material i read, with some bits from the movies, as well as other hcs people have 

snape does not tolerate bullying and any slytherin caught will answer to him personally. draco gets away with it a lot because i feel like it’s either he does it where the teachers don’t/can’t see, or snape makes a judgement call on the ones he does see (like the ones in potions where draco taunts the gryffindors). he definitely will not have tolerated draco calling hermione mudblood though. not even lucius’ son can get away with that

he keeps strict tabs on his little snakes - he interviews first years personally and at the start of the year assigns each one an older student to act as both a guide (like a mentor) and a guard. he does not encourage slytherins to walk alone, and each slytherin is assigned to and responsible for another.

he doesn’t openly encourage inter-house friendships but also doesn’t say no to them either. he turns a blind eye when he sees any of his snakes consorting with ravenclaws for homework help or hufflepuffs for trading sweets, but it does grate on his nerves a bit when he sees them interacting with gryffindors in a friendly manner. he doesn’t stop them however

slytherins do not lie to their head of house. the older students are quick to tell the first years that snape always knows when they lie and it’s just not worth it

snape advocates for his snakes’ continued and expanded learning - he’s well-informed of their background before they attend hogwarts and assigns them learning materials with homework as first years to fill in gaps that they may lack. this is especially useful to the half-bloods and muggleborns who may not have had any magical exposure prior to hogwarts (not unlike himself). as they grow older he also keeps an eye on their likely strengths in different fields and suggests to them possible materials for advanced learning

knowing that a lot of his snakes are from pureblood, bigoted families who would rat out any suspicious anti-dark lord dealings within the house, he encourages them to duel once or twice a month, but with very strict house rules: (1) he always has to be there; (2) hexes and curses only, no Unforgiveables; (3) to not tell the other houses that they are doing such and; (4) to not use any of the more harmful hexes on any of their fellow students or teachers. as a side effect, slytherins are actually quite good at DADA because snape also sneaks in a lesson or two and he knows it’s these students that will need them the most

they have a distress signal (maybe a small item?) that the students can use to contact their head of house directly if they’re in trouble. students have been known to trigger it even during the hols, and snape always assists in the best way he can

he never addresses problems nor gives praise in public. everything is discussed in his office and is always strictly confidential

his snakes are used to the rule that ‘whatever happens in hogwarts, stays in hogwarts’ so even if they see snape at any of their parents’ parties or meetings, they either ignore him or only acknowledge him subtly

he has a potions cabinet that’s for slytherin use only - these contain the basic first-aid potions and other solutions that the students may need and that he or they can use within the safety of the house, away from prying eyes

any student showing budding interest in the dark arts will be mentored by snape personally (he’ll give them a hell of a time to subtly discourage them from continuing)

slytherins are loyal to snape because they know they can trust him and are safe with him

discussions about the dark lord are not forbidden, in fact they’re encouraged, but only within the house. it gives snape a chance to gauge where his snakes stand and an opportunity to change their mind should they be in treacherous waters

he watches every game, every contest where a slytherin is represented and makes sure to sit in a spot where his student would see him

any internal issues are resolved by him mocking up a trial court that comprises the entire house. students are given a chance to plead, defend, allege, bargain, and stand as the jury. he stands as the judge 

#slytherin #hc #snape is the best house head #he'd be the most hands-on and almost stage mom mf ever #snape #hp #the point of this is im pretty sure he would have done his goddamn best to make sure slytherins had a modicum of morality #and that he would give them a foundation to start with to apply themselves WELL should they have never had the chance pre-hogwarts #he'd also always give them a chance to be heard and defend themselves #and he would always listen #stuff that he would have wanted to experience for himself as a student #but never did

[tastyykpop]

jeno extra filthy degradation please 😭

ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ

Pairings: jeno x reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: dom/sub themes, degradation, brat!reader, brat tamer!jeno, spanking, fingering, eating out, overstimulation

you were annoying

that was as simple as jeno could make it. he found you absolutely insufferable. and the countless of times you've opened your mouth to make a stupid comment was like nails on a chalkboard.

sure you were pretty and kind to others but not very much to him. you were rude, cocky, and persistent, it was your way of getting his attention. and to say it worked was an understatement, you were on jenos mind 24/7. no matter where, when, or who he was with, he could only think about you. of course, you were the same, but that's because you've had a crush on him since trainee days and almost everyone in SM knew.

jeno knew.

since you worked at SM as a stylist, it was easy to get closer to jeno and work your magic everyday. you were blatant with every touch, every shameless sentence that entailed more then it should, he couldn't quite ignore it either or tell you to shut up. seriously, it doesn't work.

you're a brat, he would say to himself, nothing more than a brat that doesn't know her place.

which in this case, he was correct.

but to him, your behavior was easy to change. he's noticed how you've drawn blanks when he interrogates you on your behavior, how you downplay your wrongs to see him try and hold back his longing to make you submit. it was a game to you clearly, but jeno wanted to beat it.

so how did you end up under jeno so soon in the practice room?

well, the group had been preparing for a dance practice video and you and a few other stylists were called in to help get them prepare for the camera. jeno was trying his best to stay low and out of your sight. it didn't work, but it was worth a shot.

"happy to see me?"

jenos eyes rolled, "I'd be happy if I saw death staring at me in the eyes." he began walking away until you grabbed his arm, making him put his hands over his face.

"dont be like that." you push his hands away now seeing jenos annoyed face. "be lucky you're not stuck with someone else. at least I make your life more interesting.

"interesting or frustrating? I think you've got your words mixed up."

you began applying a light foundation on jenos skin, taking in his angelic features before realizing what he said, "impactful I must say. I know you love me, jeno."

jeno makes a face in disgust pushing your hand away from his face, "youre not my type."

"I dont know. chenle told me otherwise...."

"youre a brat."

"and you're close-minded."

"close- you-"

"done. now go dance and make some fangirls or boys scream." you don't bother turning around as you walk towards the back of the dance practice out of the cameras view.

jeno, somewhat red in the face, stood in his starting position for the choreography, you couldnt help but stare at him in awe. hes gorgeous, you can't lie about that. and the way he moved once the music started playing made you feel different. maybe it was your crush on him, but you heated up very quickly while watching him. other staff members weren't paying as close attention on the boys as you were, only their phones caught their mind. you didn't mind, but damn did they not see how hot jeno was when dancing?

sweaty and out of breath, the boys took a break to get a drink of water.

"you did well- you all did actually." handing jeno a bottle of water, he stared between the thing in your hand and you before taking it and chugging the whole bottle. "but I think mark was the one who stood out to me the most."

"what?"

"mhm. mark was very fluid in his footsteps and his movements were clean and precise. a good dancer I must say."

there's something up. you were staring at him the whole time and he knew it, he danced harder just because you were watching. how could you have seen mark when all you did was stare at jeno?

"and hes cute too. surely he's got a bunch of girls and boys ready to throw themselves at him. I would too, he's absolutely perfect."

jeno balled his fist. what game are you trying to play? "you're testing me." he may not like you, or maybe he did, but something about you talking about someone else like that sparked jealousy in him.

"good. maybe you'll do something about it." you put a hand on his chest, jenos heart pounding fast as you came closer and whispered, "I bet you won't. all bark no bite. pathetic if you ask me."

"youre gonna regret your words if you keep speaking."

"oh really," you leaned back, his eyes pierced your curious ones with a sense of fury and annoyance, "and what are you gonna do? spank me?"

just like that jeno pulled you out of the room and into another practice room. he pulled a chair out from the corner and pulled you over his knee.

"jeno, I was just kid-"

he spanked you hard over and over and over again as you wailed and wrapped a tight hand around jenos ankle for support. each spank was painful and to the point unbearable, yet jeno didn't back down. not after he felt he could break you now.

each time his hand made contact with your ass, felt like he was letting loose all the pent up anger you caused him over the past months you've been working here. for him, it was hell. no matter what people would say to you about him did not dictate his feelings about you. right now, he hated you and needed to let that burning passion out by spanking you. jeno wanted you to feel the hell he endured when around you. sure enough, you were feeling it, crying and sobbing on his thigh like an idiot.

you didn't fight back even though you proposed that you hated it. your body seemed to like it more then you thought.

"youre a pest!" he landed another hard hit, "an annoying pest who needs to learn when to shut the fuck up. now apologize."

"no!" you winced at another hit, squirming- no more like trying to grind on his lap because of how painfully wet you've become in just minutes.

"apologize." he repeated.

"you're- you're an idiot if you think I'll give up!"

jeno stripped you of your pants and panties, "its cute listening to little sluts like you thinking they have power over someone much stronger then them. it must be tiring thinking youre charge." he taunted before spanking you again, this time the impact was far greater and almost caused you to scream before jeno clasped a hand over your mouth. with the same hand, he pushed you off his lap and on the floor, leaving your lower half bare for him to see.

you were a pretty sight, a mess to say the least, but jeno loved that. finally seeing you disheveled with tears leaking down your cheeks, he thought of you as his little crybaby. he tried his hardest not to take a picture.

"don't think I didnt notice how your wet cunt leaked all over my thigh" he began, "do you really get off to being put in your place, slut? is that why we're here right now?"

"d-dont be so full of y-yourself."

"oh? but your dripping all over the practice floor, how could i not." jenos lips were close to your heat, teasing you with his eyes and tongue as he glided it just above where you wanted him.

you had nothing to say, yet your eyes told him everything. told him just how you'd defy him any chance youd get only to make him more upset. it wouldn't be fun if your goal wasn't to piss him off.

jeno kept his tongue away from your most needed area, his lips kissing anything but your dripping heat as you bucked your hips into his face. jenos hands would push your hips down and back his face away frowning at your behavior and returning to what he was previously doing. you weren't done though, since he was holding your hips, you grabbed his hair and forced his head where you needed him. his tongue inside you was far from good, it was amazing. and though you realized jeno wasn't pushing your hand away, you pushed and pulled his hair as you kept his head in place so he couldn't stop.

the long strides and the smooth rhythm he had was enough to make you arch against the floor, gasping and calling out his name far to loudly for his liking. but with watchful eyes and a steady tongue, he shamelessly enjoyed it yet he had to be aware of the people in the building. one loud moan and someone would sure walk in to see what's up.

so jeno swatted your hand away from his head and lifted up with a frown. he liked the frightened look on your face as he leaned closer and closer, "if you're this much of a slut for people to hear us, we might as well have just stayed where everyone else was."

"thats hot." you stated blankly, jenos eyebrow raised before realizing how far gone you practically were, with how big and dilated your eyes are. "w-wait no! I'll stay quiet I promise."

"No you wont." jeno got up and grabbed your underwear that layed on the floor, then shoved it in your mouth allowing you to taste yourself. "stay quiet, fucktoy."

"fucktoy?- oh fuck!" you mumbled into your panties as his fingers protruded inside you. at least you were quieter this time.

"tell me when youre about to cum." he said just above a whisper as he watched you slip further and further into bliss. the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head with each skillful thrust from jenos fingers made his cock grow harder each second. you were so hot, so damn beautiful as you moaned into the panties like a little bitch. jeno loved it too much to say he hated you.

"feels good- f-feels so good, j-jeno." you said quietly into the panties. it was getting harder and harder for you to keep silent as he began rubbing your clit like a desperate man, hungry for your cum. but you did your best keeping low.

you grinded against on his hand, inching closer and closer to what you believed to be your orgasm. clentching tightly around jenos fingers you gasped and spat your panties out, "jeno! i-im gonna-

"cum, fucktoy." he insisted, never removing his fingers from your wet hole as a white substance spilled out. he kept going, in and out, in and out as you clamped a hand over your mouth. so much sensitivity and his fingers were still going.

"stop i-i can't take it!" you found his wrist and tightly held it as you attempted to pull him out.

"youre gonna take this like a good bitch until I want to stop." he said right as your second orgasm washed through you.

too much. you could barely think straight and even tried pulling your hips back but his fingers followed.

too sensitive. you could barely breathe because of the overwhelming sensitivity. yet in a twisted way, it felt good in a strange way. maybe it was the pain of cumming over and over or how jeno worked his fingers. either way, you could feel another one building up.

"please, please, please." you cried hoping for the end, but there was no way jeno was stopping.

"apologize and this will be your last one." He stuck his fingers deeper, if that were possible, and watched you squirm trying to find words to say, but all that came out was drool. "disgusting whore." you slapped him in the face for that.

"I-i am not sor-sorry!"

"im not playing these games anymore. say you're sorry."

jeno growled, deeper and deeper he went and faster and faster he goes before your third orgasm of the day came. your legs shook and your grip got tighter but still to no avail did he stop.

you were very persistent on making jeno angry before, but now you seemed to have started rethinking that apology. "im sorry."

"for?"

"for being rude to you!" you legs shook again and that feeling in your stomach was back, "i-im sorry jeno, but p-please I can't take it!"

he did it. he broke you. and with that he finally pulled his fingers away letting all your cum out.

you cried softly, still a shaking mess from the orgasms and jeno, well he didn't care all too much but he knew he probably shouldn't be too harsh with you about now. so he gently took you in his arms, sitting your bare bottom right on his lap as he rocked you slowly.

"im never leaving after this." you say slowly, "and I know you don't hate me either, I can feel your boner against my ass."

jeno pinches your arm and shushes you. god, you were a pest and maybe youre right. maybe he doesn't hate you like he proclaimed he did. maybe he did enjoy this session in the practice room, but he won't ever say it. not because he's afraid to admit it, but because he doesn't want you to rub it in his face.

#nct #nct smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #jeno #lee jeno #jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #ask #anon

[thefanficmonster]

I'm so happy you like the idea! Your first three words are: Rattle, Candlelight and Corset.

Oh this is gonna be interesting 🤭

Regretting

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC (taken in by the Winters family as a daughter of theirs basically)

Warnings: Swearing (No Spoilers for any games don’t worry😊)

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Enjoy the mess my brain’s produced. Love, Vy ❤

“I have several questions surrounding this bullshit event!“ Gwen shouts from inside her room where she’s been getting ready for the past hour with the Captains of the BSAA keeping a watchful eye outside her door, making sure she doesn’t get any ideas of running away.

“I have as many as you do, trust me on that one.“ He replies, readjusting his tie. He hasn’t found himself in a three-piece-suit in a long time, all’s been soldier get-ups, bulletproof wests and combat boots. Truth be told, it’s not that he doesn’t want to dress nicely, he’s just rarely had any occasions worth dressing up for. Lord knows he’d be at home in this very moment, seated on the couch with a cold beer bottle in his hand. So to make the truth truer - he actively avoids places and events that would require him dressing up. It’s simply a hassle in and of itself, but dealing with the people at the even - that’s what he’s most bothered by.

“You cannot expect me to believe that’s the truth!“ Gwen shouts again, the sound of shuffling accompanying her voice. 

“Leon said it was important, Jill backed him up and you know I rarely get a say when the two of them partner up to support one another.“ Chris says, sighing while reaching for a cigarette before withdrawing his hand, remembering he didn’t take his pack with him on purpose. Claire says he needs to break the habit little by little so, in order to give her peace of mind, he does try whenever she’s looking. However, when she turns away, he’s quick to light a cig, almost as quick as a dying man getting connected to life support.

“You, Leon and I have very different definitions of the word ‘important’.“ She sasses back, her voice now being the only sound coming from the room which is a sign Chris cannot decide the meaning of - is she almost done? Is she starting over with everything? Either way, he doesn’t mind. Running late to the gala the mayor’s throwing is not particularly bothering him, he actually prefers it.

What’s been bothering him is the fact that he’s found himself impatient of something else. Impatient of seeing her - not that he’d ever admit it. Him and Gwen have been friends for quite some time. Well, they did get off on the wrong foot, but were quick to arrange a relationship alike a friendship and function without wanting to gauge each other’s eyes out. Somewhere along the lines they became actual friends without even noticing.

Gwen Winters had every right to be suspicious of Captain Chris Redfield. Not that she was always wary of him or anything - seeing as how him and her ‘parents’ are friends, she never thought twice about the guy. However, when she expressed interest in joining the BSAA and earned herself a scoff from him, she was rather pissed. Being the main chemistry project of an asshole with a saving-the-world complex back in Raccoon City, it’s safe to say she got some above average strength to her name. And that’s putting it mildly. Being rescued from that lab by Leon and getting taken in by the Winters family, she’s developed her own hero complex, the need to save those who can’t save themselves always dwelling within her.

And so, despite the amusement Chris showed when she brought up the idea, she became a BSAA soldier. 

“I think we established that on your very first mission, soldier.“ Chris chuckles, recalling that first mission he was so opposed to, mostly because Gwen was tagging along at her request and the allowance of Leon. He was very fucking afraid they’d have to carry her dead body out of there but the action was quick to turn the tables on him - having Gwen save his life more than once. What surprised him most though was her humbleness about it. She didn’t rub it in or nag him about having proved her point. She was just glad they had all made it out in one piece and that struck him with a whole new intensity. Almost like a wake up call.

The door beside him suddenly swings open, causing him to abruptly straighten up from his leaning position, shooting a look at the doorway from which emerges Gwen. Or at least he believes it’s her. Had he not known she was the only other person in the house at the moment, or had he seen her passing by on the street he wouldn’t have recognized her.

And he’d have every right not to: this must be the first time she has worn a dress since prom - if she even wore one then - and the same probably applies for the make-up she’s put on. It’s not much or anything, in fact the only reason he’s noticed it is because he’s so used to seeing her make-up-free face. So much so, he’d recognize even a drop of foundation if she applied it. And oh boy, is he whipped by the sight. He can lie all he wants and to whoever he wants to, but he cannot lie to himself. Especially not when his jaw has fallen to the floor, his eyes have grown wide and his heartbeat has picked up noticeably.

If Ethan could hear at least half of what Chris is thinking at the moment, he’d be as good as banned from the Winters home forever.

When Gwen’s eyes meet her Captain’s, she can’t help but smirk, “What is it, Cap? I exchange the bulletproof vest for a corset and you suddenly don’t recognize me?” She asks, raising a teasing eyebrow.

He knows it’s wrong, for so many reasons: He’s her captain, she’s his soldier; She’s an adult but he’s still significantly older than her; She’s the ‘daughter’ of a friend of his, to make matters even worse - It’s so wrong yet he can’t get the thought out of his head. It’s not just now, it’s something he’s been struggling with for quite some time. He’s constantly haunted by her: the sound of her laughter, her smile, that focused frown that appears every time she is looking at a map or a new case, analyzing its every detail, the twinkle in her eyes whenever she gets told she’ll be going on a mission and that same sparkle growing brighter when she returns from it having successfully completed it.

It’s all overwhelming, and in the nicest, wrongest way possible.

“Honestly, Winters, seeing such a shift does rattle a person. Especially when I haven’t seen you out of a soldier’s uniform for years now.“ He comments, his eyes traveling up and down her body on their own accord, despite his best attempts at keeping his gaze on her face.

She laughs, “Can’t really go to training in a dress and high heels, you know. If I had more opportunities, the dresses in my closet wouldn’t be covered in spiderwebs.“

“Duly noted.“ He smirks, offering the young lady his hand as he leads her down the stairs, “I could help you out with that.“

She frowns, pausing mid-step, “Oh no, no, no no. If what you have in mind is a bunch of charity events, you better get that thought out of your head. A bunch of rich assholes drinking champagne, really not my scene.”

Chris chuckles offering her his arm as they walk out the front door to where he parked his car upon arriving at the Winters home, running into Ethan, Mia and their five year old daughter, about to head out for the night. He won’t complain about the lecturing he received, he deserved it after all. It’s a miracle the two even agreed to let Gwen accompany him, not that they could stop her either way seeing as how she’s an adult woman who’s more than capable of making her own decisions.

“No, no, I know you hate those events. I do too.“ He says, oddly timidly as the two get seated in the car. “I was thinking more along the lines of...“ He contemplates how to say it without making the rest of this night awkward, or mess things up with Gwen in any way. She means a lot to him and he’d hate to lose her over his complicated feelings he wishes he could control. “Dinner under candlelight, maybe?“

He’s as stiff as a boulder, tense and expecting something, anything. Literally anything, even outright rejection would be better than silence. Regardless of her answer, he’s gonna regret this move later when Ethan hears about it and goes to kick his ass.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the slight shake of her head, a blush evidently appearing on her cheeks, visible even in the dim light in the car. A small smile graces he features as her hand travels to his which is nervously resting on the gear shift. “Sure, I’d like that.” She says, her smile growing wider.

There’s that same twinkle - the sparkle in the eyes of a soldier willing to fight for the greater good, putting everyone above herself. And, on his hierarchy, she’s number one.

“I’m glad.“

Chris Redfield has regretted many things in his life and will probably regret even more in the future. However, he was a fool to think he’d regret this decision - one look at Gwen’s eyes and all regret was erased. All ass-kicking he might receive for it seems more than worth it, looking at it from the perspective of this very moment.

Then again, Captain Chris Redfield has never been a stranger to a little ass-kicking.

Thank you so much, Anon for this super fun challenge! I hope to receive more three words to turn into fics cause I really enjoyed this experience 🥰

#resident evil 8 #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 7 #resident evil chris #resident evil chris redfield #re8 #re village #chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #re chris redfield #chris redfield fanfic #chris redfield x oc #ethan winters #mia winters #original female character #original character #challenge #3 word challenge

[rovelae]

Behind the Scenes of “Hologram”

           Today marks exactly one year since I posted arguably my most popular fic. “Hologram” is a postgame Saiouma one-shot about escapism, loneliness, and running away from the past. I put a lot of myself into this fic and I’m blown away by all the love it’s received, not only on AO3 but in Discord servers and other social media. All that excitement made me keep thinking about it, so I thought I’d share a (very self-indulgent) behind-the-scenes of sorts about how I wrote it, as well as what I think of the story.

           This essay will contain spoilers for the whole fic, so if you’d like to read it first, you can find it here. Of course, if the tags scare you off, that’s valid, but you might want to skip this post too since I’ll be quoting it throughout (so, just to be safe, expect the warnings I’ve posted on AO3 to apply here too).

           If you’re a Lorde fan you’ll recognize the lyrics in the fic summary – “Nothing’s wrong when nothing’s true,” from “Buzzcut Season.” The inspiration for this fic came to me while I was on my way to an early shift at work, and I needed a good song in my head to give me the will to live for the next eight hours. Not sure why I chose that song in particular, but maybe part of it is because I like imagining stories to go along with the songs I listen to, like AMVs playing in my head, and I’d never been able to pin down exactly what this song reminded me of.

           The mood of the music is really what compelled me – there’s something lonely about it, and the lyrics sound like the singer’s trying to convince herself that everything’s okay even when all evidence points otherwise. There are “explosions on TV”, and “The men up on the news / They try to tell us all that we will lose,” but “we live beside the pool / Where everything is good.” Despite everything going wrong, despite the notes of fear creeping into the pre-chorus, the character will “play along… in a hologram with you” and “never go home again.”

           From there, it was an easy jump to “postgame Saiou” and that was that.

             There’s a cloud of seagulls hovering in the air around him, and a dozen or so more standing just out of reach, staring him down with beady black eyes. Kokichi takes a slice of bread from the loaf he’s holding and tosses it to one of the birds, watches it catch it and stumble under the weight, watches its head bob as it tries to swallow the whole thing at once. It gets remarkably far before four other birds descend on it, shrieking wildly.

           “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles into his folded arms, wondering if Shuichi would get the reference.

           He really wishes Shuichi was here.

           Kokichi upends the rest of the loaf of bread onto the sidewalk and laughs at the resulting chaos until his chest aches.

             To start off, I wanted to create the same lonely mood from “Buzzcut Season” in Kokichi’s simulation. He’s not exactly trapped there, but he’s refusing to leave, because as long as he’s on the fake Jabberwock Island, he can pretend the killing game never happened. The trade-off to that escapism is that the only people he can talk to are the NPCs, who aren’t complex enough to be remotely interesting to him, and Usami, who… well, tries her best, but is more of an informational / moderation program and can’t offer him what a therapist could.

           The only thing Kokichi has to look forward to is Shuichi, who he’s convinced is an extremely lifelike computer program rather than the real thing, because the real Shuichi would definitely hate him for everything that happened during the killing game. He’s so locked into this line of logic that he doesn’t let himself consider that Shuichi has forgiven him – he doesn’t even have a good answer for why the Future Foundation wouldn’t just keep the supposed Shuichi AI on indefinitely, believing it’s their way of baiting him into leaving the simulation.

           It’s not a healthy or sustainable lifestyle in the slightest, but Kokichi stubbornly refuses to do anything but wander the islands aimlessly, passing the time with ice cream and feeding seagulls until the next time he can see Shuichi.

             He dreams that DICE is here in the simulation with him, smiling and carefree as they explore the weird music venue. One of them has gotten the karaoke machine working, and another found a box of kazoos and maracas in the back room. Kokichi already pities anyone unfortunate enough to walk by the building tonight.

           “Not going to sing, Joker?” one of his DICE asks (over the sound of their youngest member shrieking through seven kazoos at once), sitting on the bench next to him.

           “Some games are more fun to watch than play,” he answers, leaning back on his hands and sighing.

           “Like a killing game.”

           The warm dream-atmosphere turns cold then, and Kokichi’s head snaps over to look at him—but his brother is gone and Kaito’s looking back at him instead, blood in his teeth and face ashen pale.

           “You... we don’t have to do this, man,” Kaito says, but it’s a lie and they both know it, and he doesn’t want to look behind him because he knows the machine’s looming over him with its unyielding steel and slow slow slow descent—

           “You’re not real,” he snaps at dream-Kaito, who doesn’t respond except to lift him up again. “Nothing’s real, none of—PUT ME DOWN! LET GO OF ME! DON’T PUT ME BACK IN THERE!”

           “Death is more mercy than you deserve,” Kaito says, and Kokichi claws and bites and kicks his way out of Kaito’s grasp like a wild animal, only to end up in front of a prison cell full of—

           DICE, his beloved DICE, trapped and hurt and afraid, bloodied and beaten and helpless.

           “Why didn’t you save us, boss?” says his second-in-command, clutching the bars with bleeding hands. “Why didn’t you do more? Now we’re all dead and it’s because of you.”

             Moments like this are my reference to Buzzcut Season’s pre-chorus, where the not-okay starts to creep into the illusion. Despite Kokichi’s valiant efforts to forget, he’s still dealing with the aftermath of seeing his family hurt and in danger, watching his friends die, orchestrating the deaths of two of them, being killed himself— and then being told every bit of it was made up to entertain an audience who sees nothing wrong with that picture. Running away is not the way to heal from trauma, and one day soon it’s all bound to come crashing down around him.

             “Do you know what this … island paradise represents, Kokichi?” [Hinata] asks, and Kokichi’s really not in the mood for a lecture but he continues anyway. “Jabberwock Island … was the setting for the fiftieth season of Danganronpa. The golden anniversary, they called it. It was my season.”

           Kokichi hunches over, hugging his arms over his torso and stifiling a scream. He does not want to think about this right now—

           “They wanted it to be the best season of all, which, unfortunately for us, meant it was also the bloodiest,” Hinata says. “Twice as many participants, deadly traps hidden across each of the islands— they even changed the way the motives worked, like when they told Fuyuhiko to cut out his own eye so Peko could have a quick death instead of suffering for days.”

           “Do I look like your therapist, porcupine-head?” Kokichi hisses. A sharp pain is pounding into his skull, and there’s a bitter, metallic taste at the back of his throat. A taste like poison and blood.

           “There was so much going on that the simulation malfunctioned,” Hinata says. “When people died, their Ultimate talents downloaded themselves into me. I’m told that the stress of so many personality grafts came close to liquefying my frontal lobe. I’m lucky I woke up at all… especially considering more than half of the others didn’t.”

           “Why are you telling me this?” Kokichi grates out through the static building in his head. If he opens his eyes, will he see the beach or the dull chrome of the machine closing in on him?

           “Because I know how much you want to forget about what happened,” Hinata says. “Believe me, I get it.”

           ….

           “These things that happened to us… we can’t erase them, no matter how much we want to. Some things have to be remembered.”

             I’d mostly like to leave Hajime’s season up to interpretation, but there are a couple things I wanted to say about it. I imagine Danganronpa is like the Hunger Games in that it’d go all out for big anniversaries. So, there were twice as many participants for the Jabberwock Island beatdown that was probably subtitled “Bloodbath Bay” or something equally appealing. The game’s formula changed from a focus on the mystery and the trials to “look at all these kids massacring each other a la Lord of the Flies,” and since the VR system wasn’t equipped to handle that many people and their deaths, it malfunctioned, giving Hajime way too many Ultimate talents and putting half the cast into comas from which they never woke up.

           Viewers either absolutely loved or absolutely hated this season, depending on whether they were DR fans because of the “blood n’ guts” factor or the “mystery and psychological thriller” aspect. Team Danganronpa faced quite a bit of backlash for actually causing the real-life deaths of half its participants, but were able to weasel their way out of serious legal repercussions because of the waivers the participants had signed beforehand (plus a lot of bribery and falling back on their longstanding popularity). So, the cast of Season 50 failed to end the killing game, but helped provide great evidence for the “Danganronpa is morally wrong” argument.

           Hajime works as a victim liaison for the Future Foundation and has been trying to take down Danganronpa since he got out of it. He’s like that in a few of my fics, actually; I like the idea of Hajime acting as a big brother of sorts to the V3 cast. It’s especially entertaining to imagine his interactions with Kokichi— though maybe not so much in Hologram, since to Kokichi he’s a representation of the past he’s trying so desperately to forget and the future he refuses to acknowledge.

             “SHUT UP!” He launches himself at Hinata, his hands wrapping around the other man’s throat as he uses his momentum to slam him to the ground. “SHUT! UP!”

           “Ko— ghk—” Hinata coughs, eyes wide with surprise, but aside from moving his hands up to grip Kokichi’s wrists, he doesn’t seem all that worried about fighting back.

           The thought only fuels Kokichi’s rage until he’s choking Hinata so hard his knuckles are white. “If you want me out of this simulation so badly, you can kill me,” he snarls. “I’m never waking up! I’m never leaving, do you UNDERSTAND ME?”

           Hinata grimaces, the outline of his avatar flickering, but he still doesn’t struggle, and Kokichi hates him all the more for it, despises him with a seething malice that festers low in his stomach. He wonders distantly if he’d actually kill this man in real life. Or if he’d be able to stop himself, feeling like this.

             Kokichi’s breakdown here is more out of fear than anger. Like I mentioned, Kokichi sees Hajime as another piece of what’s hurt him, and no matter how Hajime tries to help, Kokichi will always remember Danganronpa whenever he sees him.

             Warm yellow-orange light casts a relaxed, cozy glow over the dining hall. It’s an ambience compounded by the flickering candles on the table, which seems overly idyllic, but Kokichi will let it slide because of the adorable way Shuichi flushed when he noticed them as they sat down. Well, if he’s being honest, everything about Shuichi right now is adorable, from the way his hair keeps falling into his eyes to the way he’s nervously fiddling wth his chopsticks. Kokichi wishes he could keep staring at him forever.

           Ah, not… not in a weird way, though, just… because Shuichi’s beautiful, and when Kokichi looks at him he can forget everything bad that’s ever happened, can create some new and brighter world to exist in.

             This is an idea I wish I’d had room to explore a bit more in the story— that is, just how far Kokichi will go to pretend everything’s fine. I thought about making him border on delusional, like having him talk to people who aren’t there or forget what’s actually happening around him because he’s so lost in his fiction-within-a-fiction. It would have creeped Shuichi out a whole lot.

           Unfortunately, there wasn’t much room for that past the plot I’d already nailed down, so I focused on his loneliness and escapism instead. I do touch on it later in this scene, though— the couple paragraphs where he slips into fantasizing about being a phantom thief having a surreptitious meeting with his detective under the not-so-subtle supervision of his DICE. There would have been a lot more of that if I’d gone with the ‘delusion’ stylistic choice, to the point where even the readers would be confused about what’s real. Maybe I’ll look into writing something similar in a future story.

             Eventually, Shuichi sets down his bowl and looks away with a little sigh, and Kokichi clenches his teeth because that’s the sigh he does when it’s time for that conversation.

           “Um… Kokichi?”

           Kokichi’s only response is to exhale the breath he’d been holding in a quiet hiss.

           “I-I know you don’t want to, but… but I really need to talk to you about something,” Shuichi says. “Please?”

           “My Mr. Detective can talk about whatever he’d like!” Kokichi says with a lilt to his tone that makes it sound more sarcastic than he wants it to. He takes the last bite of curry and wishes that it burns hot enough to hurt.

        ��  “It’s about Kaito.”

             This more serious part of the date scene is meant to reflect the little bridge in “Buzzcut Season”:

“Cola with the burnt-out taste

I’m the one you tell your fears to

There’ll never be enough of us.”

           It’s a part of the song that sounds especially bittersweet to me, a bit of self-awareness between the insistence that everything’s okay.

           Really all I think I managed was to reference it when Kokichi’s internal dialogue comments on his drink being “so sweet it tastes burnt” and then later not tasting like anything. But hopefully the mood’s still there.

             “Tell him… that I have nothing against him,” he says.

           “That’s … not a lie?” Shuichi presses.

           Kokichi shakes his head idly, still not raising his gaze. “I wanted to wreck the killing game and he wanted to save his friend. We both got what we wanted. I’d say the end more than justifies the means.”

           Was that a lie?

           (I don’t want to die Shuichi I’m sorry I’m sorry save me Shuichi please I’m sorry ithurtsmakeitstop—)

           His fingers tighten into clawlike shapes, nails digging sharply into his forearms.

             I really don’t think Kokichi would have anything against Kaito, even if here he’s not being completely honest with how much he’s affected by what happened. It wouldn’t make sense to him to hate Kaito for something he himself proposed, but I think there’d still be a subconscious barrier between them. Too much history.

             “Don’t go, Shuichi, I’m so sorry, I— that was so dumb, what I said, please don’t be sad anymore.” He’s not sure if he can’t breathe because of the exertion of running or because of the hysteria boiling over in his head. “Please don’t go, I didn’t mean to hurt you— please don’t leave, Shuichi, I’m so sorry.”

           “Oh, Kokichi….” Shuichi’s tone is strange, soft and pitying, like he sees something Kokichi doesn’t, and he shakes his head slowly as more tears follow the paths of the others.

           Kokichi goes to his knees, ready to grovel if that’s what it takes, but Shuichi follows him down, closing his other hand over Kokichi’s, and then they’re both crying and he doesn’t know why, and all he can do is repeat a mantra of I’m sorry and hold on as tight as he can.

           It’s horrible. Shuichi’s horrible. Shuichi’s wonderful, and kind and lovely and perfect and Kokichi hates him, Kokichi adores him, and it doesn’t matter because Shuichi’s not actually here but Kokichi doesn’t want to be alone, just let me pretend some more, please, please let me have this—

           “I’ll… I’ll stay,” Shuichi says at last. “I can stay a while longer.”

           You shouldn’t, Kokichi wants to say, but his mouth won’t obey him. You shouldn’t stay if you don’t want to. I don’t deserve having you here. I’m not worth your mercy.

           But there on the bridge, crying tears of relief, he soaks up as much mercy as he can get and hopes it’s enough to drown him.

             I wanted to create a contrast between them that highlights just how the isolation and trauma Kokichi’s experiencing has affected him. He has an almost unhealthy reliance on Shuichi as “the only thing that makes this world bearable,” and panics when faced with the prospect of being alone again so soon. Part of why Shuichi’s crying is because he’s realized the extent of Kokichi’s desperation. It’s not that he thinks Kokichi’s apology is insincere, but that he’s hardly heard him apologize for anything before, so Kokichi going this far has him realizing how bad things really are.

             The door rumbles and slides open when they approach, revealing the bright light of the log-out point that took Shuichi away every time, that would wake Kokichi up in his real body if he walked into it. Shuichi stops just a step away from it, biting his lip as if searching for something to say, but before he can find it, Kokichi reaches out to tug at his sleeve.

           “Shuichi?” he says, distant as the waves on the beach that he can still hear if he listens closely enough. Shuichi turns back toward him. “Before you go, can I be selfish one more time?”

           “Huh…?”

           Shuichi doesn’t move when Kokichi steps closer, reaches up to ghost his fingertips over Shuichi’s jaw and around the back of his neck. He lets Kokichi tilt his head downward, lets him hover inches away, close enough to feel their breath mingle in the night air. Kokichi pauses there to give him the chance to pull away. He doesn’t.

           So Kokichi closes his eyes and the distance between them.

             That last line is a ZEUGMA! It’s a literary device where one word refers to two more in a different way. A popular example is the hyenas’ line “Our teeth and ambitions are bared” from The Lion King. It’s my favorite grammatical trick and I’d love to see more of it in fanfic.

             Slowly, he slides his hand down to Shuichi’s shoulder, using it as leverage to push himself away. That hurts even more. He can’t seem to open his eyes, and he feels so weakened, breathless, fragile. Cracked open, hollowed out.

           When he finally does open his eyes, Shuichi’s are wide with some mix of astonishment and a dozen other emotions. Kokichi bows his head, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I just wanted to know.”

           “Kokichi,” Shuichi breathes, like a bullet through his heart.

           “Goodbye, Shuichi,” Kokichi says, and shoves him into the light.

           Shuichi’s little yelp of surprise cuts off abruptly as he falls through the door, vanishing into the glow, and all too soon, Kokichi’s alone again in a dream that suddenly seems far too vast. Alone, with the faintest taste of Shuichi’s lips still lingering on his own.

           And he thinks, It was enough just to know you.

           It’s a lie.

             Nothing to say here except that this is my favorite scene and I’m so happy with how it turned out.

             Fake sun rises over fake ocean, fake seagulls glide through fake sky while fake wind tousles fake palm fronds. Kokichi lies on his stomach in the fake grass and talks to his fake family in the fake notebook. Gives them fake names and runs through everything he remembers about them. Apologizes, over and over, wishes he could hug each of them goodbye one last time. Wonders if it would be more painful to die or to never have existed at all.

           He leaves the notebook of his memories on the seat of one of the Ferris wheel cars on the fourth island, because one time he promised them they’d steal the London Eye together.

           He buys a can of fake soda from the fake convenience store on the first island and sits on the fake beach watching the fake waves. Wonders when he’d hit the end of the simulation if he started swimming, or if he’d drown first.

           White sand, blue sea, bluer sky. Washed out, like an amateur watercolor painting.

           He opens the soda can and raises it to his mouth, but … even the thought of drinking it makes him sick to his stomach. He sets it down in the sand and flicks it over, watching the bubbly liquid run down and sink into the sand. The color’s all wrong, like blood streaked against a metal floor.

           He walks the fake streets of the fifth island, passing fake skyscrapers and fake commuters and their fake conversations, until he finally stops outside the factory he’s never been able to bring himself to go into. Smells like oil, and metal and machines and he can hear the sounds and he’s immediately back in the hangar, dizzy on adrenaline and desperation and leaning heavily on Kaito so he doesn’t keel over and die then and there. Kaito says something about how maybe he should sit down for a minute, and Kokichi didn’t agree back then but he does now, goes down on all fours and dry heaves.

           When his vision solidifies and he can stop gasping for breath, he sits up and presses his back against the factory wall, covering his ears and hiding his face in his knees. Tries to convince himself not to imagine Shuichi’s there with him, holding his hand again, promising everything’s going to be okay.

           “I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you anymore,” or maybe, “Breathe with me, it’ll be over soon. You’re safe now.”

           I love you.

           He laughs until there’s nothing left in his lungs. He called these little daydreams obsession, before, but now they just seem sick and insane.

             I wanted to indicate throughout this scene that Kokichi’s gotten substantially worse. Instead of halfheartedly interacting with the NPCs or finding something to spend time doing, he’s aimlessly wandering the islands, focused on how fake all of it is. Not even talking to his sketches of DICE can make him feel better. The suicidal ideation starts to slip in even if he doesn’t realize it— a fixation on wondering what death is like, purposefully triggering himself by walking by the factory….

           The thing I want to talk about most though is the italicized I love you. I left it outside of quotation marks and dialogue tags on purpose because I wanted it to be ambiguous as to who’s saying it. If it’s Kokichi’s line, it’s sudden and almost out of place, like he couldn’t hold back from thinking it anymore. But it could be Shuichi saying it, too. Since it’s outside quotation marks, unlike the previous dream-Shuichi lines, it’s more vague, almost a whisper in Kokichi’s thoughts— like he can barely bring himself to imagine it and even feels guilty doing so, because there’s no way it could possibly be real.

           Which do you think?

           Eh, I don’t have an answer. When I hear it in my head, they say it at the same time.

             “How did you know?” he finally croaks.

           Shuichi’s breathing still sounds shaky, too. “Because you said ‘goodbye,’” he says.

           Kokichi finally looks up at him in a silent question.

           “You never say goodbye,” Shuichi says, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes. “It’s always….”

           “‘See you later,’” Kokichi finishes for him. Despite himself, a tiny huff of astonished laughter escapes him. “I didn’t even know, not until a couple of hours ago. And you figured it all out from one word?”

           Shuichi bites his lip at that. “You kissed me,” he says.

           Kokichi’s stomach twists and he looks away. “I said I was sorry—”

           “No.” Shuichi squeezes his hand into a fist and lets it fall to thump against Kokichi’s chest, like he’s trying to knock some sense into him. “It was so honest, and vulnerable, and… and I know how much you hate showing how you really feel.” Another tiny sob catches in his throat. “And so it felt like … like something you’d do if you weren’t going to s-see me again.”

           “Shuichi….” Kokichi trails off as Shuichi muffles his cries in his hand again. He’s so breathtakingly smart. There’s no one else in the world who thinks that way, no one else who could possibly be that attentive and that clever. Not a programmer, not a team of shrinks… how can an AI manage it? How is it that Shuichi always manages to take him by surprise? How can he see straight through him when he least expects it?

           Kokichi’s hand reaches up to Shuichi’s cheek. Reverently traces the path of the tears falling down it.

           “I wish you were real,” he confesses in a whisper.

             Kokichi’s stubborn. So, so stubborn. And he’s not used to being cared about, if the way he does everything by himself is any indication. So it makes sense to me that he’ll refuse to believe anything good can happen to him even in the face of convincing evidence. He’s pretty self-hating for someone so arrogant.

             Kokichi’s weak, deep down to his core, weak for this man. Already knows he’d do anything for him, and the thought is terrifying—that one person could have that much power over him, even if he doesn’t realize it.

           But what if he has realized it? Couldn’t this all be an elaborate ruse, a lie he knew Kokichi would be so desperate to believe that he wouldn’t bother questioning it?

           …Shuichi’s never hurt him, though. Only that one time, when he really deserved it. Shuichi wouldn’t … betray him, even for what he thinks is Kokichi’s own good. They’re… different from each other, that way.

           But still….

           “I’m so scared, Shuichi.” It’s barely a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

           “You won’t be.” It’s so hard to be skeptical, lost in his eyes. “I’ll be right there with you, for as long as you want. I won’t let you feel like this anymore.”

           Promise me, he wants to blurt out. Promise you’ll stay. Promise me you’ll never leave me, Shuichi, he wants to demand, but that’s wrong, that’s manipulative and selfish and everything he doesn’t want to be for Shuichi anymore.

           Shuichi, of course, says it anyway.

           “I promise, Kokichi.”

…        

           “Kiss me again,” he says. “Please?”

           Shuichi leans in close, then pauses, his brow furrowing the way it does when he catches him in a lie.

           “I’ll kiss you again in the real world,” Shuichi says. “Okay?”

           Kokichi shakes his head. “Shuichi, please.” Please, I don’t think I can do this. Please, I don’t want to wake up to a lie. Please, one last kiss for me to remember in case it was all fake.

           Shuichi reaches out to tilt his chin up and Kokichi closes his eyes, savoring every second, burning it into his memory.

           Shuichi’s soft breath ghosts over his lips.

           “Trust me,” he murmurs.        

           Kokichi’s eyes flutter back open, searching his face. Shifting him around on the white board in his head, seeing what categories he fits into this time. Weird, of course. Suspicious, maybe not. Trustworthy?

           Trustworthy….

           “I do trust you,” he realizes.

             Kokichi’s still hesitant to accept all of this— Shuichi kissing him didn’t magically fix everything. He’ll still doubt all the way to the log-out point, but at least now he realizes that this simulation is only hurting him— that if things are to get better they’re going to have to change, too. He’s got a long way to go before he’s all right, but he’s not going to have to face it alone anymore.

             And that’s a wrap!

           Once again, I’m really proud of this story, and I feel like I grew as a writer because of it. There are a few things I would change if I wrote it again, but for all its flaws it’s still my baby and I like how it turned out.

           Thanks again for all your support for “Hologram,” and thanks even more if you actually waded through all this nonsense of a director’s cut. It’s a huge confidence-boost to think that people liked what I wrote, and even wanted to hear what I had to say about it. If there’s any interest, I’d love to review some of my other fics here, or theorize or brainstorm or whatever else  you’re into. (Ask me what Byakuya’s Thing is in my superhero AU, I dare you 😉)

           I do have a WIP in my folder of bits and pieces currently titled “boy finally gets that kiss”, and it’s a post-Hologram scene from Shuichi’s point of view to just sorta… tie it all together, have them talk things over again… and kiss, of course. We’ll see if anything comes out of that.

           Until next time!

#Rov talks #Hologram #Saiouma #Oumasai #Behind the scenes #Director's cut #Fanfic review

[srose-foxfire]

“First Impressions” Part: 6 (Finale) Damirae Pic

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

A/N: Hello Everyone. We finally made it to the finale of “First Impressions” I wanna thank you all for being with me and following along with this fic. This started out as a one-shot but after writing part 1; I couldn’t just stay there and decided to make it into a longer fic. I hoped you enjoy it thus far. This part in particular is longer than the other parts.

I would also like to take the time and wishing Happy Birthday / Belated Birthday to @ravenfan1242 . I wanna personally say thank you so much for all the support you give to artists and writers, like myself in the Damirae community. You may not know this, but you were my very fist commenter on my very first Damirae fic I had written when I first joined tumblr. Your words cheered me right up and gave me the confidence I needed to continue writing. I hope you enjoy this small gift from me. Thank you.

Without further ado, enjoy the story!

~ Simona R.  

-- -- --

Part: 6

Where in his right mind did Damian think this was a good idea? He stood in front of his bathroom mirror and looked at the ‘work of art’ his sisters and Raven had done on him. Layers of foundation, contour, and highlight were plastered all over his face. His eyes were covered in a golden-brown eyeshadow, the girls then added some golden shimmer over it. Cass went ahead and nearly poked his eyes out when she used a liquid eyeliner to create a cat-eye look over his eyes. Stephanie was adding a light peach blush onto Damian’s cheeks. As for Raven who looked like she was actually enjoying torturing him, finished his ‘look’ with a dark purple matte liquid lipstick.

When he saw Cass grabbing her phone, Damian made a run for the door and dashed towards his bedroom. Damian touched his cheek, debating the choices he made that ended him looking like this. He turned on the faucet with warm running water and soaked a hand towel in it. Damian then started scrubbing his face clean; he looked hideous. The make-up wasn’t coming off easily and instead was smudging across his face, why did girls enjoy this, Damian had to wonder. He felt dirty and his face felt thick and tight from all the stuff that was plaster onto his face. Damian turned the water off and threw the hand towel in the sink. Lost in thought. He could had just said no, but he didn’t.

-- -- --

A few minutes earlier Damian had stood outside of Cass’s room when Raven entered to confess, she made up Jasper Sky. One may call him a stalker for leaning against the doorway, but Damian was there for Raven’s sake. He had promised to be there in case the confession had gone bad. Cass’s bedroom became extremely quiet, Damian couldn’t make out words anymore. He concentrated and heard a soft cry. Panicked and worry made him throw the door open to find his sisters hugging Raven, while Raven cried happily in their arms.

His sisters shocked at his outburst both cursed and questioned him what he was doing. Damian shot a quick glance towards Raven who was starting to flush. His sisters didn’t know the promise he had made to Raven. In order to save them both from being interrogated by his sisters, Damian had to come up with a quick plan. The first and only thing that popped in Damian’s mind was “I would like to try that make-over!”

-- -- --

Damian exited his bathroom and tirelessly fell onto his bed. He looked up to the ceiling and watch his ceiling fan just spun. At some point the girls would need to eat, Damian thought. Which would give him a chance to sneak into Cass’s room and take some facial cleansing wipes to clean his face. He should had been more patient and waited for Raven to come out, but the thought of her crying only terrified him greatly. He never wanted to see her cry or be scared, but even he could never stop that. But Damian hope he could be the one to bring Raven comfort, if she allowed him.

Damian’s thoughts were interrupted when someone was heard knocking onto his bedroom door. He turned his head towards the sound and contemplated if he should even open it. If it was one of his older brothers and found him in the state he was in, they would make Damian the laughing stalk of his family till he died. Though Damian rather die if it turned out either his father or Alfred ever saw him in his ridiculous state. How did the heir to Wayne Enterprises come to this? The knocking continued as Damian thought of the last person he would want to see. Cass. Damian knew very well, out of all his siblings, Cass has the largest following in her social media. What if she was trying to take a picture and post it to the whole world?! Worse she was actually coming to get him and drag him back to her room so they could add more cosmetics?

Please no more. What more could they possible add? The door was now being banged and each knocked sounded more frantic than the next. Damian groined into his hands, got up and walked towards his door. “Damn it Cass, enough is enough. I am not going back out there.”

“Actually, it’s me Damian.”Upon hearing her voice, Damian immediately unlocked his door and opened to find Raven holding some facial wipes and a few bottles, which he presumed to be used to remove cosmetics. “I brought some stuff to help clean your face.” She said softly.

Damian lifted a brow and then peek through the doorway before retuning his gaze to her. “It’s just you right? The she-devils aren’t near?”

“She-devils? Your sisters? Damian that’s mean and no they’re busy applying each other a facial mask.”

“Come in.”

Very timidly Raven walked into his room as Damian closed the door behind him. Damian continued to study her as she carefully walked like a frightened doe. What was she so afraid of him? Did she think he be upset with her over the make-over? Then he came to a realization, this was the first time Raven had entered his room. Every time she came over to the manor, the only places he would find her was in Cass’s room, the manor’s library, and the kitchen. Damian had never once invited her to his room.

As Damian continue to think of what he could say to comfort Raven in this most awkward situation, Raven had cleared her throat. “Where would you like to sit?” She asked very shyly.

Damian looked around his room and wished his desk had two chairs instead of one. He walked past her and sat down on the thick carpet, reclining against his bed. Raven followed him and bended down to her knees, she carefully placed the box of facial wipes in front of her and laid a few bottles next to them. She pulled out a wipe and carefully started rubbing his left cheek.

At first Damian tried keeping his gaze towards the carpet floor and count each thread. But his will betray him, he would catch himself side-glancing towards Raven as she carefully continues to clean his face. Afraid he would be caught; Damian closed his eyes and focused on how soft she was being with him. It felt like a massage and the tense knots he had in his face loosened under her touch. Damian leaned his head back against his bed and let out a deep sigh.

“So, my sisters forgave you, correct?”

“They did. Is as you said, they don’t hold grudges though they wanted a complete explanation on why I had to come up with Jasper Sky.”

“Like what?”

“Well I told them something specifically, and with that they backed down.” Raven carefully rubbed his brows clean. The room then became quiet and the only sound heard was the rubbing on his skin.

“I’m sorry.” Raven said in the most-lowest voice possible. “You’re like this because of me and… sigh… I’m sorry.”

Raven pulled away as she threw some used wipes into one pile. Damian looked at her and noticed how some of her lashes had grouped together due to her crying earlier. Remembering how thathad made him feel. Damian looked down at her hands and without even noticing with himself wrapped his hand around hers making Raven look up into his eyes.

“Don’t be.” Damian said as he pulled Raven’s hand closer to his chest. “You have nothing to apologize for, I put myself in this situation and… I would do it again to make sure you’re alright.”

Raven looked shocked at his words. She was right to be. Though now that he revealed this to her, Damian need to tell her more and come clean of his own feelings. He took a deep breath and allowed his heart to speak, “Raven, I have fallen in love with you. My heart beats every-time I am with you, my day lights up at the mention of your name. You are the most unique and most beautiful girl I have ever met. You view the world with a sense of wonder and I would like to see it through your eyes. I-”

Damian stopped when he saw Raven’s eyes watered. What had he done? This was too much and too soon for her.  He sighed, “just forget I said anything-”

Raven slammed her lips onto his, she cupped his face between her palms. She was actually squishing his face, but Damian didn’t feel any pain or didn’t knowhow to react since his brain decided not to function anymore. The poor boy was left in shock, Raven then released his face and slowly pulled away. Hiding her palms between her thighs. Her face was ridiculous flushed, but she was so beautiful, and Damian couldn’t help but stare. “I fallen in love with you too, Damian. I…I love you.”

Damian gave her a warm smile, he touched her cheek and pulled her onto his lap. Once she was settled, Raven wrapped one arm around his neck while the other stroke his check. The two youth continue to smile before both of them leaned into each other for another kiss. This kiss was slow almost as if though this kiss alone they could tell each other their true feelings and leaving themselves open to one another. They pulled and just looked at each other for what felt like an eternity. 

Raven giggled in his arms as she wrapped both arms around his neck, “I actually had a crush on you since before we met.” Damian raised a brow at her as he waited for her to continue, “Your family would tell me stories about you and well I couldn’t wait to me the Damian Wayne.”

“Well lucky for me, I just hope I didn’t raise any concerns after my first impression.”

“Actually, after calming down the whole incident made you look hot. I found out just how much your father’s books meant to you and the lengths you would go to protect the people you loved. Only made the crush I had on you grow.”

Damian only smiled at her and gave her a quick peck on her temple, Raven sighed and rested her head against his chest. “Is there a way for you to sneak away from my sisters tomorrow? I would like to take you out on an official date.”

“I will let them know I won’t be available for a few hours but I’m sure they will be okay with it… they did give me their blessing to date you.”

Before Damian had a chance to ask her what she meant by that, his bedroom door was blasted open, with all his siblings coming through popping confetti poppers and Cass holding up her phone snapping a picture of them, “Damn right you have our blessing Rae, whoo welcome to the family, sister!”

#damirae #damiraefic #Damian Wayne #raven roth #raven and damian #dc damian #dc raven #first impressions #DC Universe #dc fanfic

[parablesoftheone]

Ginko and Adashino: a study in Daoist perspectivism

Huizi said, “I am not you, to be sure, so I don’t know what it is to be you. But by the same token, since you are certainly not a fish, my point about your inability to know the happiness of fish stands intact.”

Zhuangzi said, “Let’s go back to the starting point. You said, ‘Whence do you know the happiness of fish?’ Since your question was premised on your knowing that I know it, I must have known it from here, up above the Hao River.”

—Zhuangzi: Essential Writings, pg. 76

It would be criminally neglectful to talk extensively about Mushishi without discussing Ginko and Adashino’s friendship. Apart from Ginko himself, Adashino is the most frequently recurring character in the stories, and he and Ginko obviously share a connection that goes well beyond trading in mushi-related goods. 

In contrast to Ginko’s other significant relationship, this one is not with someone who shares his degree of centeredness. Adashino’s focus is markedly external, his habits of life and outlook very much out of line with the teachings of Lao Tzu. Most obviously, he stockpiles a wealth of mushi-related treasures and is always on the lookout for more, while Ginko’s possessions are pretty much what he has in his backpack. The storing up of wealth and possessions, the Dao De Jing warns, can only bring grief: "Amass a store of gold and jade,” it says in verse #9, “and no one can protect it.” And indeed, Adashino’s storehouse is invaded with dire consequences no later than the tenth episode of the first season. His insatiable desire for interesting items persists nonetheless, leaving him open to a level of emotional excitability Ginko never displays even at his most distressed.

(Still, a man’s gotta protect his property...)

This is hardly the only particular in which Adashino and Ginko are decidedly unalike. S2 E8 "Wind Raiser” especially develops their differences. When Adashino takes credit for Ginko’s cure, Ginko completely ignores it; when Adashino speculates about what the young man Ginko advises will do, Ginko responds with a laconic, “Who knows?” These simple interchanges point toward their fundamental contrast: Ginko’s mindset is Daoist, and Adashino’s is (mostly) not. In accord with multiple verses of the Dao De Jing (#2, #10, #30...), Ginko doesn’t care a damn about who gets credit for his work; neither does he care to speculate about future events, preferring to “move with the present” (Dao De Jing #14). His focus is centered; Adashino's is outward.

Given these divergent values and the fact that Ginko reguarly cheats Adashino—of which Adashino is well aware—an observer might wonder why these two have anything to do with each other, much less why they’re such good friends. 

But their bond makes perfect sense through a Daoist eye. 

Daoist perspectivism

To the Daoist mind, contrasts and differences are part of how the world functions—and this includes differences from the Daoist mind. Zhuangzi not only teaches followers of the dao to not disdain non-Daoist values but hold “perfectly to the differing allotments of things” (Zhuangzi: Essential Writings, pgs. 70–71); his own closest friend Huizi is a man with whom he trades debates and criticisms throughout the Zhuangzi (pgs. 8, 38, 112...). This worldview doesn’t seek the exclusion of others—the Daoist idea of “oneness” means that opposing views and forces are inherently one, without being made to unite or agree.

Along with this embracing of contrasts comes a firm belief in perspectivism: that anything that can be affirmed from one perspective can be negated from another and vice versa, and that each person and creature’s nature and experiences determine what is right from her/his/its own perspective. "The embrace of the same viewpoint,” says the Zhuangzi, “comes simply from being in the same position” (pg. 101).

Just as Ginko understands that the natures of the mushi are rightful parts of the world whether they’re valued by humans or not, he also understands the validity of differing human viewpoints. Though he scolds Adashino for the trouble his collection causes, he doesn’t consider him lesser or unworthy of friendship because of it, or because of any other contrasts between them. Through all the disparity in their values, they share a connection—and in true Daoist fashion, their differences are likely what brought them together in the first place. Ginko gathers mushi-related items, and Adashino wants them. Ginko has no desire to collect things or haul them around, so he’s happy to sell... if not always honestly.

Which raises the next point about their relationship: Ginko’s shady business ethics. 

Perspectivism applies here too. As Zhuangzi tells us, “whatever might be [from some perspective] strange, grotesque, uncanny, or deceptive” (pg. 13) can be affirmed as right from another view, and this certainly applies to Ginko and Adashino’s exchanges. To an outsider, they’re questionable as all get out—but it’s not an outsider’s view that matters. Both Ginko and Adashino freely choose to associate with each other on their current terms, because that choice makes sense to them. Adashino knows from the start that Ginko isn’t always on the level—from his first appearance in S1 E5 “The Traveling Swamp,” he’s questioning Ginko’s story about the green sake cup. And as Ginko points out, Adashino is under no obligation to buy from him—he chooses to, knowing the odds, and continues to choose to. And we can see in “Wind Raiser” that Adashino values even the more questionable items Ginko’s sold him; he’s held on to all of it, even the stuff he's probably guessed is junk.

Whether this arrangement makes sense or seems right to an outsider is irrelevant. Ginko and Adashino accept each other as they are, and the only ones who need to validate those choices are themselves. 

So, for all their differences, do Ginko and Adashino have anything in common? 

In fact, they do—and one significant value they share is the very perspectivism that shapes their relationship. We can see as much in “The Traveling Swamp,” when Adashino asks Ginko why he’s so determined to save Io from becoming a mushi. 

“If the girl said she wanted desperately to live,” he says, “I’d understand. But she wanted to become part of the swamp, right? That might be her happiness... Sometimes that’s the way it is in this world, though it sounds cruel...”

Adashino’s statement points to the path along which he and Ginko connect: No less than Ginko, Adashino is open to another’s perspective, even one that he acknowledges sounds terrible. He fully understands that “rightness” for one person is not the same as “rightness” for another.

Ginko’s reply underscores that he shares this value. In S1 E1 “The Green Throne,” he made a human a mushi because it was her choice—despite his own assessment that becoming a mushi is a terrible fate for a human. He seeks to prevent the same from happening to Io, not because he doesn’t value her choice, but because his observation of her has convinced him that she doesn’t understand what she’s giving up—that she’s making her choice without full knowledge. 

Interestingly, in this sense, Ginko and Adashino’s exchange is reminiscent of one between Zhuangzi and Huizi. Crossing over a river with his friend, Zhuangzi comments on the happiness of the fish below. Huizi protests and asks, "Whence do you know the happiness of fish?” In his frequently smartass fashion, Zhuangzi replies that he knows it from the position where they stand, above the river, watching the fish (pg. 76).

Not simply a play on words, this exchange is an illustration of Daoist perspectivism. Zhuangzi’s point is that, while we truly can’t know the perspectives of anyone other than ourselves, we must proceed from our own—including our observations of what may or may not make others happy. Not able to consult Io on the matter, Ginko has to proceed from his own observations, which lead him to believe she still cherishes human feelings.

Like Zhuangzi and Huizi, Ginko and Adashino both know that perspective is individual, and they respect the choices others make from their own. Adashino respects that Io may, after all, want to become a mushi, and Ginko respects that, in his assessment, she probably doesn’t—just as, in Renzu’s case, he respects that she does. 

By this same principle, they respect each other’s natures, Ginko accepting that Adashino is an outward-focused, obsessive collector of things, and Adashino accepting that Ginko will occasionally chastise him or sell him a bad coat. 

On these multiple levels, their relationship is one of Daoist perspectivism. And in the same way that Ginko can guess what Io’s happiness might be, we can “know” from observing them that Ginko and Adashino value their relationship just as it is—with no need for any foundational “rightness” other than their own choices.

With all that said, there is another kind of rightness to their friendship. In their contrasts to each other, Ginko and Adashino fit together. This is even signaled visually: Adashino's light-reflecting monocle signifies the yang within his yin, just as the tokoyami in Ginko's opposite eye is the yin within his yang. Like Ginko and Tanyuu, Ginko and Adashino form a Taiji, interlinked and corresponding through their similarities and their differences alike.

#mushishi #ginko #adashino #the traveling swamp #wind raiser #lao tzu #zhuangzi #spoilers

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 13

I’m alive! Here’s day 14 of @biodad-bruce-month event (even tho it ended already)!

Chapter 13: Dating/Love

-

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07

-

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

“Wait, I could just do that?” Chat exclaimed, looking at the akuma that crumbled under his hand.

It was another day without Ladybird, but Chat and Bee were able to handle the past two akumas with ease and with little damage. 

The first time around, the duo met with Ladybird’s kwami Tikki to help purify the akuma. But after witnessing Tikki eat the akuma before spitting it right out purified...let’s just say the duo were left a bit traumatized. 

Not wanting to see that again, Chat and Bee decided to look for alternate ways to purify an akuma. Or at least get rid of them before causing more trouble.

“Wait, how did you not know?” Bee asked.

“Never tried.” Chat said with a slight shrug. “Which reminds me, I have to tell LB something after this.” 

Queen Bee noticed how Chat frowned, his eyes becoming dull. 

“You too?” Bee asked, watching as Chat’s ring was down to its last pad. 

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘you too’?” 

“I have to leave for the States in a few weeks. Something about having to keep appearances and the sorts.” Bee huffed, watching the Parisian sky starting to darken. 

“What are the odds? I also have business in the States, although it’s more about business than appearances in my case.”

“Seeing as the two of us have to tell LB, how about we tell her the news together?” Bee suggested. 

“Sounds like a plan. Although it has to wait for some other day. Right now, I have a meeting to attend, so later!”

Queen Bee watched as Chat Noir left the training grounds in a hurry, noticing the fake smile plastered on his face. 

“You’re being dragged into it too, aren’t you?”

-

“Morning.” Marinette told Adrien and Chloé, much to the surprise of everyone else in the class. 

How did the trio become friends overnight? And wasn’t Marinette best friends with Alya?

“Marinette. The sun is out, I’m having a great hair day and all you can say is morning?” Chloé huffed. “Good morning to you too.”

“Hello Marinette! Feeling any better?” Adrien decided to ignore Chloe, Marinette nodding.

“To be honest, a bit. Still got to take my medication and rest, but staying in bed won’t do me any good.” 

Amira recalled the text message she received this morning, her father asking her how she was. 

Selina had filled him in when he called back, telling him about the situation. Amira also learned of his visit through the baker’s surveillance cameras.

While she had told him that she didn’t care what he did, it hurt to see that he came to visit her. 

Then again...what right did she have to feel sad that he didn’t try to talk to her when she’s already pushed him? 

“-to Marinette. You see Adrikins? I’m telling you, she needs to stay-“

“He could’ve at least let me have known he came over.” Chloé and Adrien found Marinette mumbling, a frown on her face. 

“He? Did someone-“ Adrien started only for Miss Bustier to walk into the class and start the class. 

Chloe watched as Marinette zoned out during their first class, watching as Alya didn’t bother to check in with her supposed ‘best’ friend.

Marinette continued to zone out throughout the entire morning and then acting if nothing was wrong once lunch came around. 

It bothered Chloe so much and she didn’t know. Why did it bother her to see Marinette act as if she wasn’t in pain when it was clear as day?

-

“Ladybird!” Chat called out, snapping Bee from her thoughts. It’s been three days since she last saw Ladybird, watching as their leader greeted them with a slight smile on her face. “Feeling better?”

Deja vu much?

“Chat. Bee. I’ve been doing well. Master Fu gave me the okay to return back to patrolling despite not wanting me being here.”

“How come?” Bee asked, looking out to the Parisian skyline. Tonight, it seemed foreign. 

“One word: Hawkmoth.” Ladybird stated, watching as her partners looked at her with narrowed eyes. “If I stay for too long out of commission, not only will we be giving him more answers about the miraculous, but he’ll know our weakness.”

“But-”

“He’s probably caught up with the most recent information regarding the damage left behind from Dark Owl. Can’t exactly hide the evidence left behind at the stadium and his office.”

Ladybird watched as Bee and Chat nervously laughed at that, remembering the large pile of rust left at the stadium and the amount of tech to clean out of Principal Damocles’ office. 

“Do you think he knows about you and-” Bee started, only to stop when LB nodded.

“He might know I’m not suited for the Ladybug, but there are also other possibilities.”

“Which are?”

“I’m like him.” Ladybird bluntly stated, getting titled heads for a reaction. “I have another life outside the mask that makes me mia.” 

“Wouldn’t that apply to all of-”

“Not exactly. The two of you are mostly active, always at the scene as soon as possible. As for me, I don’t usually appear until minutes later or until halfway. That can mean many things. One, I’m a sickly person outside the mask, therefore I take longer to arrive. Or similarly, I live a little bit outside of  Paris, thus making me tardy. Third-”

“You might be an adult,” Bee stated, watching Chat look at LB with large eyes. What did he figure out?

“Or you might be someone of a high standing who can’t afford to leave their place in society to fight him, a man who has all the time to be ready to akumatize someone at a moment’s notice.”

Guess LB wasn’t expecting that answer, judging from her taken back expression.

“Right on. To think you got it on your first try.”

“Wait, you’re rich?” Bee screeched out, looking at Chat for back up. “I mean, that would explain the burner phones, the equipment at the- you have the money to buy out an entire floor!”

“Yes Bee. I’m rich, although it’s my father who’s rich and was stupid enough to forget to take away my black card.”

“You have a black card?” LB and Chat watched as Bee continued to freak out.

“What’s a black card?” Chat decided to ask, earning concerned faces from the girls. “What?”

“How do you not know what a black card is, Chat! It’s literally the symbol of being filthy rich! Not even Daddy has one!” Bee exclaimed, promptly shutting her mouth.

“You’re rich too, Bee? Wow. To think we all come from a-”

“You’re rich too?” The girls exclaimed, the trio bursting into laughter. 

The three chatted for hours, learning more about themselves. Time went on, the three kids laughing and holding their stomachs as they told tales of their past and of the present. However, Bee picked up on the way Ladybird avoided talking about her father and urged the other two to talk. 

What was she hiding?

“Does that make us the rich kid club?” Chat asked, earning a stifled laugh from LB and a ‘seriously?’ look from Bee. “What? It seems fitting!”

“As much as I’d like to continue to stay and talk, I think we should be heading home. It’s one in the morning and I have class tomorrow.” Bee and Chat nodded in agreement, the three bidding each other farewell. 

-

“So two days, huh.” Amira hummed, watching as Selina packed her bag. While it was two in the morning, Amira thought it would be best to drop by and visit Selina. The talk with her team left her in a giddy state, Amira wondering why she even came here.

“Actually, I might be leaving tomorrow evening.”

“Why?” While Amira still wasn’t particularly fond of the woman, she felt a part of her wanted Selina to stay. Perhaps it was the fact that Selina had been by her side these past few days. 

Or the denial that continued to linger in Amira. That she enjoyed Selina’s concern over her. 

While Selina was by her side, Amira didn’t have restless nights where she would wake up from dreams she couldn’t remember. But from what Sabine had told her, Amira used to have nights where she would be waking up screaming and calling out Jason’s name like a madwoman.

But ever since Selina came over, they stopped happening. “What made you-”

“The gala was pushed forward towards this month. Towards Thanksgiving.”

“Why would-”

“Dick had made the decision to push it forward after getting a phone call in regards to the main event of this year’s gala.”

“Main event?” Amira asked, now wondering what type of event caused Dick to push up the date of the gala. What event caused her father to accept the change of date from it’s usually wintery day?

“This year, Bruce was eagerly planning the main event with such pride, making sure everything was perfect to announce the main event. But then, Jason’s...Jason’s death happened and-

“The Catherine Todd Foundation.” Amira whispered, feeling her heart stop. 

That’s right. How did she forget? How dare she forget? How dare she forget her brother’s dream?

“That’s right.” Selina closed her suitcase shut. “Bruce was planning to reveal the latest Wayne foundation-Jason’s foundation- that he had planned for months.”

“That was planned...for this year’s gala?” Amira asked, feeling her mouth dry. 

Her father didn’t utter a word about it. Nor did Dick. Did...did they not-

“Amira. Amira, look at me.” Selina coaxed, cupping Amira’s face into her hands. “Dick just found out about it when he got a call about one of the sponsors. The sponsor wanted to change the date to make sure-”

“Why didn’t he tell me about it?” Amira whispered, feeling something roll down her face, salt meeting her lips. “Why did no one-”

“Amira, kitten. Dick hasn’t called you in a while, right?” A slow nod. “He’s been busy setting up the gala in your father’s steed. Bruce...your father holed himself again in his study when he found out the sponsor had called in. He...he had forgotten about it. It slipped his mind after-”

“He could’ve called me so I could’ve helped him rework the-”

“Amira.”

“I could've helped!” 

“Amira, Dick couldn’t-“

“You wouldn’t understand Selina! You don’t know-“

“I do.” Selina said softly, holding Amira’s trembling hands. “Just like you, I loved the brat to pieces.”

“You’ve...you loved Jason?” 

“Sure, we didn’t get on the right foot, but I did go to love the boy. Little brat loved to play dirty. Remember he endangered his life once just so I would catch him and make me drop my guard.”

“Sounds just about him.” Amira softly said, Selina picking up on her relaxation. “Jason liked playing dirty, no matter who he was up against. Once he popped his arm off its socket during one of our sparring lessons, which caused me to stop fighting. When I went to check on him, he popped it back in and won the match.

Even though I knew he was alright, I started bawling and hugged him. Father and Alfred came running to see what had happened and when Jason told him what he had done, Father scolded him. ‘Sometimes, you have to play dirty. A fight in Gotham will never be fair and square, old man. You, better than anyone else, should know that.’” Amira said with a smile. “He’d always use that against Father and would win his case. Or perhaps Father let him, knowing that using those tricks would help in a fight one day.”

“And it did, although it mostly grossed out Riddler when he saw Jason do that. Should’ve seen the look at his face.” Selina said with a chuckled, reminiscing that day. 

“I would rather have Jason back than wishing to have seen that.” Amira admitted, looking at Selina with unshed tears. “Jason… Jason was the glue that held us together. He was the one who brought us together, so when...when he died...we...we-” a shuddering breath escaped Amira. “We fell apart...

Dad became so broken that he began to isolate himself from us. He would shut himself in his study for hours and from what Dick told me - days! When I was still in the manor, we wouldn’t see him at dinner nor would we hear from him unless he came back home frustrated from a work meeting.

He no longer made time for us. For Dick...nor me. He allowed himself to drown in his work, both as CEO of WE and Batman” 

“Amira.” Selina softly said, wiping away the tears that had been running down Amira’s face.

“When I finally got to talk to him again...it was to tell me I was being sent to Paris.

He didn’t even let me say goodbye to anyone, not even Jason...

He was at it again. He was isolating me again, but this time to a place where I couldn’t do anything no matter what I tried. I would have no friends to help me, nor connections to help me break out of my father’s control. The only option I was left with was to obey.”

“But Amira, you have friends now. You have people you can lean on. So why? Why can’t you-”

“It was all Jason.” Amira said. “Jason managed to convince Father to let me explore the outside, not me.

Jason was the one who made Dad understand that I shouldn't be kept inside like a trophy bird. That I should be allowed to spread my wings, to grow. How did he do it? I would never know, but I wish he had shown me how.

I only knew how to yell and scream to get what I wanted. I wasn’t like Jason who proved he was right, who fought for what he deemed just.”

“Amira, you don’t have to keep-”

“I do, Selina! I do!” Amira cried, digging her hands into her hair. “My father won’t see nor talk to me otherwise if I don’t! Father never understood the damage he’s done to me unless I show it to him. He’s...he’s!”

Selina pulled Amira into a hug, feeling the girl stiffen in her hold. Selina held the girl tight against her, letting tears run down her face that she didn’t know she was holding back. 

To hear the amount of pain she was holding in, the amount of troubles she had to deal with...and to think Bruce was the cause of the majority of it. 

“Your feelings are valid Amira, your frustrations are as well. But trust me when I say, things will get better and you’re already doing a wonderful job of moving forward.” Selina began to stroke Amira’s hair when she felt Amira tremble. “It may seem as if the situation isn’t getting any better, but it is due to your efforts of wanting to change it. 

So give yourself a break and just let it all out. I’ll make sure to protect while you do.”

That was all Amira needed to let herself cry out her heart, hugging Selina back as she wailed her soul out. 

Selina drew circles on her back as she sat there, making sure to not let Amira go.  

How did Bruce let it get this bad?

-

“You’re going to the States?” Marinette asked, looking up from her calendar in her planner. 

It’s been two days since Amira last saw Selina, already missing her. It took everything in her to not beg her to stay. To not leave her...but she knew better than that. She had to leave and Amira had to respect that.

So here she was, letting her mind try to forget Selina’s warm hug and the calmness she felt when Selina hugged her.

“Yup!” Adrien said with a smile that Marinette could look through from a mile away.

“Adrien and I were both invited to some event that our parents want us to attend, something about having to keep images and whatnot.” Chloe elaborated, noticing the last Thursday in the month circled in red. What a coincidence. “As happy as I am that my mother called me, I didn’t want it to be this way.”

“At least she gave you the choice. My father is threatening me with going or not being able to leave the house again.” Adrien bluntly stated, flinching when Marinette narrowed her eyes. “Baguette, what’s-“

“He threatened you? Your father threatened you?” Chloé and Adrien could feel the murderous intent seeping from the girl. “Let me talk with-“

“Baguette! It’s alright! I told him I’ll do it on a few conditions!” Adrien practically scrambled the details out. He watched as Marinette softened a bit. 

“Conditions?”

“For starters, he’ll let me go with Chloé. No Nathalie nor Gorilla. Second, he will not be allowed to contact me nor Chloé. If I need his help or if I want to go back, I have to be the one to call him back. Third and final one, if I manage to settle a meeting between him and one of the people he told me to make contact with, he has to agree to let me do whatever I want for the rest of the year.”

“Wow Adrikins. Since when did you start stepping up towards your dad?”

“Since I realized that my so-called freedom is still being controlled. If I fully want to be free, I have to start by loosening my father’s control over me. So far, I’ve been seeing results from my efforts. I don’t plan on backing down until I fully achieve my goal.”

Marinette watched as Adrien smiles proudly, not being able to hold back her own smile. 

“Hope you reach it Adrien. I know it’ll be worth it. So then, when’s the event?”

“It’s in three weeks, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Adrien and I will be attending Wayne Gala.”

-

Ladybird looked at Bee and Chat with the same look she had given Adrien and Chloé. 

“The both of you? The two of you are going to be mia in three weeks?” Ladybird asked in disbelief, watching as the two of them rubbed the back of their heads. First Chole and Adrien and now these two? “Do you realize-“

“It’s why we’re telling you now and not later this week or next. We know-“

“Do you really?” Ladybird growled, huffing as she turned around, the Parisian night staring right back at her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have-“

“No, you’re right.” Chat said, Ladybird picking up on his sorrow. “It is stupid of us to leave you-“

“Master Fu.” Ladybird casually said, looking at Bee and Chat. “I can ask Master Fu to see what I can do.”

“Master Fu?” Bee asked, looking at Chat for clarification. 

“Oh right, you’ve never heard about him. He’s the one who chooses the wielders for the miraculouses. He’s the one who chose Ladybird and me. As for you, you were recommended to be a wielder as I vouched for Rena Rouge to be a temporary holder.”

“Wait. I was recommended to-“

“I recommended Master Fu to give you a miraculous. However, that doesn’t mean I fully know your identity. I did recommend two people to become Pollen’s holder after all.” Ladybird looked at Bee who was on the verge of tears. “Guess Master Fu chose the better of the two and I’m glad he did. You’re a great partner.” 

Bee ran and threw herself at Ladybird, the two girls tumbling to the floor as Chat just stood there smiling. 

“I promise to make up for the time we miss!”

“Don’t worry about it Bee. The two of you shouldn’t worry about a thing. Everything will turn out alright. You’ll see.”

-

No. Everything didn’t turn out alright. 

The day came where Chat and Bee bid LB a temporary goodbye and Adrien and Chloe boarded a plane towards Gotham. The minute they said goodbye, Amira grew restless, uneasy. 

It didn’t help that this uneasiness traversed towards her civilian life as well. 

As she walked into the school, it felt like if everyone was watching her every move, judging her.

It was Gotham Academy all over again...

Wally had assured it that it was going to be fine, that she was worrying over nothing. 

But Amira knew better than to ignore the emptiness she felt in her chest. 

Sure, Alya talked her ears off, but Marinette didn’t like the feeling of emptiness around her despite Alya’s clear company. 

Without Chloé and Adrien, everything just seemed...off. 

She didn’t realize their importance until chemistry class. 

She watched people get into pairs as Miss Mendeleiev finished telling her instructions for today’s lab. With the clap of her hands, everyone started to pair up...except her.

“Miss Mendeleiev. I don’t seem to have a partner. If it’s alright, can I-“

“No partner?” Miss Mendeleiev asked, realizing only then that three of her students were out. “I can’t just let you do the lab by yourself Marinette. It’s unsafe.”

“Miss Mendeleiev, I am fine being on my-“

“Now, now. You know that in my lab, no one is allowed to touch the chemicals without a partner.” Miss Mendeleiev clapped her hands to get the class’ attention. “While it seems like everyone has a partner, Marinette doesn’t. Now, who would love to have her in their group or volunteers to be Marinette’s partner?” 

Marinette’s didn’t need to turn around to know no one raised their hand. 

After all, she was always doing labs with Sabrina or Alya, although this time around, Alya had promised Alix to be her lab partner. That left Marinette to be partnerless this time around. 

“So no one is going to volunteer? That’s alright. Nino, please help Marinette with this lab. Kim, join Ivan and Mylène.”

Marinette heard as Nino approached her, turning slowly to avoid seeing everyone else pity him. 

“Look forward to working with you.” Marinette said with a slight bow, only to receive nothing in return. 

Seems like this would be a long lab. 

-

Or not. 

Marinette somehow ended up talking up a storm with Nino.

“You do parkour?” Nino asked, looking as if Marinette grew a second head. “No offense, you don’t even look like the type-“

“Parkour, gymnastics and martial arts. Of course, I haven’t touched gymnastics in a while since my mentor has been busy. Doesn’t help that he’s on the other side of the world.” Marinette said, pouring the hydrogen peroxide into the water and then into the catalase test tube. She watched as the latter created bubbles. 

“Dudette, that’s amazing!” Nino exclaimed, opening up his notebook to the back of his page. 

“Dudette?” Marinette looked at the page he opened, noticing some notes about a personal project. How did she come to that conclusion? Simple. It said ‘Directed by Nino Lahiffe.’

“Ah, I should’ve asked if-“

“It’s fine. Just taken aback by the name since it’s my first time hearing it.”

“Really? What do your friends call you then?” 

“My brother calls Mimi and my friend calls me Bugette.”

“Alya calls you Bugette?” Nino asked, writing down his observations of the catalase in boiling water. 

“As much as Alya thinks she’s my friend, she isn’t quite there. And it’s Wally who calls me Bugette. He’s a friend of mine before I transferred here.” Marinette elaborated, sliding her notebook towards him. “Haven’t spoken to him in a few days though.”

“Alright class!” Miss Mendeleiev said with a clap of her hands. “At this time, start wrapping up your workstation! Make sure to properly rinse out the tubes and place them into their appropriate-“

“Marinette. Is it alright to call you dudette? Of course, if you don’t-“

“I’m fine with it.” Marinette told him with a smile. “I don’t mind being called dudette, Nino.”

-

“-only known her for 30 minutes. How can you say that she wasn’t doing all the work so that-” Marinette heard as she approached the windows that belonged to her classroom. She stopped before they could see her through the glass.

If her ears didn’t betray her, the one speaking right now was-

“Alix, she wasn’t doing all the work. We both did the lab toget-”

“She’s friends with Chloe.” Ivan added.

“How do you expect us-”

“You didn’t try to even get to know her. Yes, I also didn’t want to interact with her before being paired up with her, but now I wish I did. I wish I had talked to her earlier on in the school year and you guys should too! She’s-”

“You shouldn’t pressure others to try and talk to me Nino.” Marinette said, strolling into the classroom. “Let them take their time to try and approach me.” Marinette handed Nino a piece of paper. “I also looked into a few things you mentioned earlier and thought I should give you this. They’re always giving out free courses and workshops, so I thought I should let you know.”

Nino looked at the paper Marinette gave him and was surprised to see a list of different companies and dates in which they held workshops for upstarting directors.

Just as he was about to ask where she had gotten the information from, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the next class.

-

Amira wishes she was able to escape Anansi’s punches just as quickly as she was able to bolt out the classroom earlier that day.

Amira had been trying to call Wally, trying to get any info on her two friends who should’ve have arrived at Gotham when her phone began to yell ‘AKUMA ALERT.’

So having to leave her worries behind, Amira yelled ‘SPOTS ON’ as she headed towards Hawkmoth’s latest Victim.

Rolling away from Anansi’ punches and parrying them took a toll on Ladybird, feeling the air leave her body as she was slammed onto the ferris wheel structure.

Managing to find a safe space within an alleyway, Ladybird reached for her burner phone when she was reminded of her dilemma. 

Her two partners were away...she told them not to worry…

“Here you are!” Anansi roared, striking the alleyway where Ladybird was hiding, causing the vigilante to become airborne. As Ladybird crashed onto the pavement, the transformation was called off, Tikki opening her mouth to scold Amira for dropping her transformation when she promptly closed her mouth. 

Calling her transformation off, when she crashed onto the pavement and scrambled her way towards another alley. 

“Tikki, go to Master Fu.”

“But-” Amira looked at Tikki with stern eyes.

“Tikki, go and don’t worry about me. I don’t have super strength but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a plan.” 

“Amira.” Tikki whimpered.

“You now what we have to do. Now go!” Taking one last look at Amira, Tikki flew off.

“Please be safe Amira. Please, don’t do anything reckless.”

-

“Come on Little Bug! Is that all you got?” Anansi smugly said, cracking her knuckles as she watched Ladybird wipe off the blood that seeped from her mouth.

Spitting out a bit of blood, Amira grinned. Beads of sweat rolled down her face, something Amira didn’t know she missed dearly.

“Did you really think that was my best? Come on Anansi, I thought it was pretty obvious what was going on here.”

“What are you talking about?” Anansi growled, noticing someone land behind Ladybird. Anansi watched as Ladybird glew red and healed her wounds. “You!”

“That’s right Anansi.” Ladybird grinned. “My backup is here. Carapace!”

“On it!” Carapace yelled, throwing his shield towards Anansi.

With a simple step to the side, Anansi was able to dodge it, only to get her foot wrapped by Ladybird, slipping backward as her back connected with the ground.

Carapace tried to land a hit, but missed when Anansi rolled to the side, but was then dragged towards Ladybird.

Swinging her foot to the side, Anansi shook Ladybird off when she noticed the makeshift ring around her.

How did they set that up? Who set it up when she was bust fending of both Ladybird and Carapace.

“Up for a round Anansi? Or are you afraid of losing against someone half your size and weight?” Ladybird challenged, the smug on her face fanning the annoyance within Anansi.

“You’re on Bug. Can’t wait to beat you and show you that a bug should never mess with a spider!”

-

“Come on Anansi! I thought you said this match will be over in one punch! Oh wait a minute! You can’t even land one!” Ladybird said in a haughty tone, causing Anansi to lunge at her, sending one final punch onto the Arc de Triomphe.

Anansi felt as the ground began to shake, only then realizing the trap Ladybird set down for her.

Grabbing something from the ground, Ladybird grabbed hold of Carapace and brought them to where Alya was being held hostage. 

“Carapace, now!”

“Shellter!” Carapace yelled, shielding them as the Arc de Triomphe crumpled to the ground, trapping Anansi underneath. 

Once the debris settled and the dust settled, Anansi’s headgear appeared by Ladybird’s feet, causing Ladybird to smile. Gleefully, Ladybird slammed her yo-yo against the thing and cracked it, the akuma emerging from it.

Capturing the akuma and purifying it, Ladybird yelled her words. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Carapace watched with wonder as all the damage Anansi caused was repaired, the Arc de Triomphe restored before his eyes. “Meet me at the Eiffel Tower,” he heard Ladybird say before she swung away.

-

Ladybird stood at the Eiffel Tower, looking at the setting sun in the distance. She had yet to receive a call from-

“Ladybird! So, what do you think about-”

“Hold on Carapace.” Ladybird cut off, Carapace now wondering what was going on. “Not all of us are here.”

“All of us? But I thought-”

“Sorry for coming late!” A voice said, causing Carapace to jump.

Soon, something on the ground began to grow, the pink glow becoming bigger by the second. Emerging from the glow was a girl that seemed to resemble a mouse themed hero.

“Carapace, I’d like you to meet the other vigilante who helped us today.” Carapace remained silent as the mouse themed vigilante shyly waved at them, tucking a loose orange auburn hair strand behind her ear.

“Hi, my name is Gris. It was a great honor to work with you, Carapace. Ladybird.”

-

Pulling their luggage behind them, Adrien and Chloé scanned the welcoming area. Their flight lasted longer than what they thought it would be and they were ecstatic when they landed a few hours ago.

Their eyes landed on a gentleman with a poster board with their names on it. 

When they approached the older man, they couldn’t help but notice the faintest smile on him. 

“I presume you’re Mr.Pennyworth?” Adrien spoke up, Alfred nodding in response. 

“I am Master Adrien. It's also a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Chloé. Welcome to Gotham.”

NEXT

#maribat #amira wayne #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #b!dbwm2020

[shsldepressedlesbian]

Komahina for 30!!

30: "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?"

allow me to formerly apologize for how long this is, anon. what meant to be a drabble turned into a one-shot... solely because i had too much fun with it lmao

domestic komahina where komaeda bothers hinata while he's trying to work until he caves in and fucks him... those are always good, i like to think lol

ao3

-

"You'll definitely overwork yourself one of these days, you know."

Hinata blinks up from his paperwork just in time to take the mug his boyfriend held out to him, having not even heard him coming into the bedroom.

"It's not my fault there's so much to do, you know," he says after a quick "thank you", taking a sip of the freshly brewed drink, which turns out to be coffee. "I'm just doing Naegi a favor by taking over some extra documents. Which, I'm almost done, by the way."

He doesn't have to look at Komaeda to tell his expression. Just hearing the familiar, breathy sigh is enough.

"Well, either way, shouldn't you move your work desk somewhere else?"

"Ah, am I bothering you? I can go work in the living room if you want."

"No, that's… I just think it's a little shabby compared to the rest of the room, is all."

This is almost enough to get Hinata to chuckle. Well, maybe it didn't work with the aesthetic of their bedroom, especially when it's covered in papers, but Hinata liked having it in the bedroom. It wasn't like it was uncommon to have desks in your rooms. Plus, after a hard day of extra work, he could pass out in the bed right away.

But he can tell that's not truely what's bothering Komaeda, anyways.

"Look at it this way," he voices, shuffling some of the completed papers into a neat pile. "It's Friday, and so long as I get this all done, we can have the whole weekend to ourselves."

That was for sure a guarantee. Afterall, with both of their busy schedules causing them to barely have time for each other, the weekends were like their checkpoints. To be able to act and love each other like a normal couple: to relish in each other's company, even if it was something as simple and quiet as reading in the same room together.

Even if they were far from perfect, ever so little, step by step, as the world was rebuilt, so was their relationship.

"Sure, if you aren't still exhausted by then."

Empathize on "far from perfect".

Hinata turns to look at Komaeda again, giving him an expression that he hoped didn't look angry or annoyed, but rather just miffed or stern.

"It's only eleven, you know. I'll have this done by midnight, and I can still get all eight hours of sleep in. I promise."

(The only hard part would be falling asleep, of course. But as long as he had Komaeda sleeping beside him, it'd be a lot easier.)

Komaeda opened his mouth as though wanting to say something, before closing it again and merely giving a small shake of his head.

"Of course, Hinata-kun. I trust you, afterall."

It's a genuine, if not tired, expression, and even if it's small, Hinata is thankful. Hearing those words from Komaeda felt far more different than hearing it from anyone else.

He gives Komaeda a genuine small, if not apologetic, smile, before turning back to his work.

He hears Komaeda step further into the room, and he expects him to just rest in bed(afterall, it is late)while Hinata worked diligently, and he reaches for his cup.

Only to almost spill it when he feels a sudden pair of arms wrap around him from the back, eyes peering over him at his desk.

"What are you working on, anyhow?" In this close proximity, Hinata can hear just how breathy Komaeda's voice is, and it sends goosebumps down his skin(and maybe heat somewhere else). He also distinctly smells the scent of floral shampoo; it was clear he had taken a shower only around an hour ago.

Komaeda had never been one for spontaneous acts of physical affection, unless it was something he and Hinata had discussed beforehand. Of course, he could be clingy at times, but with this act, it was clear he wanted something.

But, Hinata wouldn't succumb that easily, taking a sip of his coffee and getting back to the paperwork as though this was completely ordinary for them.

"It's nothing that fascinating, really. Just some files of survivors that slipped past the foundation's priority."

"Oh?"

"Ah, yeah. I just got to… uh, well…."

It's clear to Hinata that Komaeda isn't even listening. In fact, he seems far more focused on massaging Hinata's chest through his button up shirt, clingy fingers working upwards and then tracing down what parts of the man's stomach he could reach from this position, all in a circular motion, purposefully skipping over his sensitive spots.

And yet, even then, it's almost unbearable, and it's starting to get difficult for Hinata to think properly as he attempts to go over the papers. Especially as he starts to feel a familiar strain in his crotch.

"Komaeda," he speaks, perhaps a little too harshly, and he finds himself almost regretting it when Komaeda's hands halt. "I really got to get this paperwork done, y'know."

There's a short pause, before Komaeda responds with a simple, "Ah."

Another pause, but ever so slowly, his hands begin moving again, this time tracing the buttons of Hinata's shirts softly with his fingertips, as though waiting for a quiet nod of consent.

When Hinata doesn't stop him(he probably should, but his arousement is getting hard to deny), he becomes a little more forceful.

"Ah, of course," he adopts the tone that Hinata could recognize anywhere, resting his head on his shoulder, and the warm breaths that hit Hinata's nape makes him shiver.

"Of course, I wouldn't possibly want to interrupt Hinata-kun's hard work." He toys with the buttons that rest right on Hinata's chest. "Working so hard. So diligently. Don't you think you deserve a break?"

With a small pop, he undoes the button he was fiddling with, as well as Hinata's patience.

He bolts up, perhaps too fast as he hears Komaeda make a faint squeak of surprise. But that isn't what he focuses on as he turns towards the other.

"Komaeda," he hisses, sounding more stern than he meant to be, and instantly regretting it when the man instantly backs down.

"Aha, sorry, Hinata-kun. I shouldn't have, I know, of course, I'm such-"

"Komaeda," Hinata says in order to interrupt his spiral, sounding more gentler than before. And when Komaeda stops for a second, looking confused, he takes the chance to put their lips together.

It takes only a second of fumbling before they find their footing, and sure enough, Hinata only has to nip at Komaeda's lips and press their bodies together to get eager access to his mouth, a low moan spawning from his throat.

The way they fit into each other’s curves, hands moving in all the right places, refusing to leave each other, the lewd noises and growls that neither would believe the other knew to make had they just known each other vaguely… it’s addicting, and Hinata quickly finds just how much he’s missed this.

Considering both of their sex drives, it defintely wasn’t an uncommon occurrence between them. They maintained a healthy limit- but they certainly did it far more than most people. One of the few exceptions was this week. They had been far more busy than usual, and so barely had the chance to get together properly.

Of course, it only seems to make sense how all that repressed sexual tension would unload the moment they finally got time to themselves. So, Hinata can’t possibly get mad.

When they finally separate for breath, already looking like drooling messes, he isn’t given a chance to clear his head when Komaeda instead attacks his neck, applying open mouth kisses and slinking his hands underneath his shirt, taking his time to further undo the buttons.

“Fuck, Komaeda…” Hinata fails to stifle a moan, backing into the corner of the desk for support while keeping another hand entwined in the other’s soft locks.

At this point, he’s going to end up being dominated, and so he makes the hasty decision in order to regain control.

“Wait, wait, Komaeda,” he urges, tightening his grip on his hair. Sure enough, Komaeda stops to make eye contact with him, a look of attentiveness, yet also an obvious urge to continue, which is also something Hinata finds weirdly humorous.

"You're getting way too excited too fast," he calls out, his voice breathy, yet his smile proves how he wasn't actually annoyed.

"Ha, well, you can't really blame me," Komaeda retorts with a small chuckle, massaging Hinata's hips in a way that makes him groan.

Looking to at least get back at him for that, Hinata forcefully grinds their hips together, which earns him a surprised cry from his partner that helps him earn back some confidence.

"Desperate," he muses with a smirk, as though it's an insult, and he raises his knee enough to push it in between Komaeda's legs, against his crotch and plenty visible erection, which spawns another appealing whine from his boyfriend. "What do we do about this?"

"Haaaa, Hinata-kun," Komaeda's voice is already shaky and his face already a disaster of arousement, and as though he knows this, he buries his face into the shoulder of Hinata whilst also grinding against the knee he held in place. "Please, I-"

"You're already going to start begging?" Hinata's voice comes off more condescending than he intended it to, but he doesn't think Komaeda will mind at all this time. "I still have a busy night, you know. Maybe it'd be better to just tie you up and leave you to play with yourself, until I finish everything."

He comes up with the scenario at the top of his mind, and while he wasn't sure how good it would sound at first, imagining it manages to make him even more aroused.

"NO!" That idea is quickly scrapped by Komaeda's own bark, as though Hinata actually fully planned on doing it. "No, i-it has to be you Hinata-kun. It has to be you that, that fucks me." Him stumbling on his words seems to be less out of embarrassment, but rather, desperation. And god, does it turn Hinata on.

"Fuck, alright, alright, Komaeda." Truthfully, he's already quite desperate as well. There's no way he could even think of leaving Komaeda with them both like this. He wouldn't even be able to focus on his work, anyways.

He pushes Komaeda away softly while still holding his sweatershirt sleeve, to make sure he didn't think he was rejecting him. A good thing to do, as Komaeda had seemed ready to walk over to the bed.

He gave a blink at Hinata's hold. "Ah, Hinata-kun?"

"I'm going to fuck you over the desk," Hinata states far too simply. "So bend over for me, Komaeda."

This seems to work wonders for Komaeda's own arousement, as Hinata watches as his eyes widen with a familiar, excited look before he's even seemed to analyze what he said, before giving a submissive nod and happily listening.

The two trade spots near the desk(though not before Hinata makes sure to push the papers into a messy pile at the other corner of it), and Komaeda balances himself by pushing his upper body on the desk, making sure to display his lower half properly.

Hinata, in thanks, makes sure to marvel over it properly: firmly gripping at Komaeda's ass, which gets him another gasp from the man. Ah, yes. He's definitely missed this.

While as much as he'd like to fondle Komaeda's thighs, ass, and hips all night, he's sure they're both already close to their breaking point, especially judging by his boyfriend's own small whines.

"Take off your pants, Komaeda," Hinata orders, turning away to go to the bedside and fetch some lube. He can hear a dissatisfied noise from Komaeda when he takes his eyes off him, but as long as they're in the same room, Hinata doesn't have to explain himself.

(He would have made a joke about how this was evidence it was a good idea to have the desk in the bedroom, but he decided against it for risk of ruining the mood.)

When he turns back after grabbing the half-empty bottle, he's greeted with the sight of Komaeda's own bare ass, him not even having bothered to step out of the leggings and underwear that now pooled at his feet.

He still didn't make eye contact with him: Komaeda still had his head facing into the desk, but the way his body trembles as his hips are grazed with a single finger is all Hinata needs to know to tell what his face looks like.

"I didn't tell you to take off your underwear," Hinata accuses, though sounding far from angry. Komaeda's breath seems to halt for a moment, before starting to rambling:

"Apologies, I just assumed-"

"No, I get it, Komaeda." Hinata interrupted, and once again he grips the other's ass(perhaps even more aggressively, judging by Komaeda's inhale), contemplating just spreading it apart and preparing Komaeda already.

"You just can't handle yourself, right? So desperate, so horny, you just needed to get them off." He grins when Komaeda just makes a few shaky noises, leaning forwards on his back in order to mutter in his ear; "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?"

"Hinata-kun," Komaeda seems to object, his voice almost trembling as though Hinata had already put it in. "Your being cruel, teasing… please."

Komaeda plays his own trick, pushing back into Hinata's clothed erection, causing him to hiss at the unexpected friction.

"Fine, fine," he huffs, but he can't say he doesn't sympathize with Komaeda. Afterall, he definitely wants to get into him real soon as well.

Finally applying a good amount of lube to his fingertips and placing the bottle on the desk chair, Hinata brought a finger to Komaeda's entrance only to tease and circle the rim for a second or so, but objections from the man made him finally push it in.

Even just the way Komaeda starts making consistent mewls and the constricting heat that wraps around his finger is enough to get Hinata even more eager, the eroticiness giving him the want to continue faster.

And luckily, it doesn't take long to prepare Komaeda at all, as the second finger slips in with relative ease, and Hinata, already on his own limit, decides that he's ready enough, as much as he'd like to tease Komaeda a little more.

His partner gives another small whine when Hinata pulls his fingers out, but he doesn't respond, too set on unbuckling his pants.

There's a feeling of relief when he finally allows his cock into the air, before reaching for the lube again to apply it. He's in the middle of stroking a fair amount on(his arousal winning over the initial chills of first adding it), when Komaeda once again makes a noise of dissatisfaction, pushing his hips out as though Hinata had already forgotten about him.

"Come on," he complains, this time turning his head to look over his shoulder ever so slightly. "I need you to…. to just hurry up already."

Ah. It's at that time Hinata figures, maybe, he could bare to tease Komaeda a little longer.

"What do you want me to do?"

"...Ah?" An almost genuine sound of confusion, followed with an almost instant noise of supposed realization. "I, I want you to-"

"No, Komaeda. I want you to show me where you want me to fuck you. Otherwise, I'll have no idea."

There's a moment of silent hesitation, or Komaeda merely trying to think of what Hinata meant, before it seems to dawn on him anyhow.

Ever so carefully, as though putting on a show, Komaeda, keeping his head pressed against the desk but turning it to look at Hinata, brought his hands to cup his ass, spreading it open to give his partner a view of his entrance, slick with lube and almost twitching, as though begging as well.

"Here," Komaeda gives a shaky smile. "I want you to fuck me here. Fill me up, Hinata-kun, use me until you're satisfied, just please hurr- HA!"

Hinata wastes no more time in slamming into Komaeda, and at first it's painful with the tightness(he worries if he hurt Komaeda, too), but the warm, pleasurable heat wastes no time in fixing that.

The noise that Komaeda lets out is almost a scream, or the beginning of one, as he tilts his head up with an open mouthed expression, clearly taken offguard.

"Fuck, Komaeda…" The name rings on his tongue so naturally he can't help but keep on cursing it.

The tightness of Komaeda's insides that seem to constrict around him everytime he tries to move, the satisfying heat, and the wet noises that spawns… it causes Hinata's head to already start going dizzy, wondering how he could have gone without this for almost an entire week.

But he doesn't get to ponder any longer, when Komaeda forcefully thrusts his hips back at him, clearly desperate to continue.

Hinata makes a small noise of acknowledgement, before holding onto Komaeda's hips. For a moment, however, he finds his hands tracing along everything else he can reach, appreciating Komaeda's ass, thighs, and reaching for his untouched cock, speckled with precum, only to be halted by another push backwards from him and a low whine.

Hinata finally gets a better, full grip on Komaeda's waist, before testing the waters by slowly grinding into him. The soft sounds from his partner spurs him on, and he lets out his own low sounds as he angles himself in an attempt to get deeper.

He knows he's hit a good spot when Komaeda lets out a small cry. "There…!"

Hinata grins at this, brushing the spot again, but never actually thrusting into Komaeda's prostate, which gets him another keel.

"You're… you're doing it again!" Komaeda breathes, once again attempting to turn his head over to Hinata, his face cast in a complete fluster.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hinata lies, giving his best aloof impression, only to regret it when Komaeda once again pushes back with a new kind of intent, which gets him to let out his own embarrassing groan.

"Hurry up, Hinata-kun," he objects, already starting his own pace as he continues to thrust back bit by bit. "I… I need this. Come, come on, come on,come-"

He's cut off by his own primal yet breathy shout, when Hinata finally obeys and slams right into his prostate, nails digging into Komaeda's skin, and him digging into the surface of the desk.

"Yes," a hazed, pleased chant, "yes, yes, that feels good, Haj-"

But Hinata doesn't give him a chance to say anything, losing himself in favor of forcefully pounding into Komaeda.

The sounds of their skin smacking ruthlessly and Komaeda's lewd noises filling the room is erotic enough to get Hinata to loose almost all of his common sense, leaning forward to kiss the nape of his partner's neck.

"Komaeda," he sighs, slowing his pace, but only slightly. "Nagito, you feel amazing, it's so good inside you-"

Despite his trembling, Komaeda still meets Hinata's thrusts with each buck of hips, and yet even staying more forceful- as though doing his best to get Hinata to hurry, to go even deeper.

The whole situation is hot, both figuratively and literally, and as embarrassing as it could be to admit, Hinata was already getting close to his climax.

Losing much of his usual care, Hinata slows down only to angle himself correctly, and begins chasing his high by thrusting into Komaeda at a brutal pace.

His partner's own strangled noises that sound more akin to sobs than just moans and groans doesn't faze him, rather spurring him on.

It doesn't take long for Komaeda to beat him to his orgasm, as he lets out a shrill noise that has the same intensity as a scream, and the feelings of his walls clenching onto him is all Hinata needs to finally reach his own, giving a final desperate thrust or two before burying himself as deep as he can reach into Komaeda, and instinctively biting into his shoulder.

Their hips seemed to tremble together, until Hinata finished emptying himself. There's a moment of silence, the room being filled with merely their own harsh breathing, attempting to recollect themselves.

Komaeda's whole body is shaking so much that Hinata fears that if he pulled out and let go of his hips, he'd fall right onto the floor, and so he keeps his grip firm.

But the feeling gets uncomfortable soon, and he pulls out, ignoring Komaeda's own noises of discomfort. The sight of his stretched, wet hole is enough to arouse Hinata again, so he turns his attention on the other's back, loosening but still keeping a grip on his waist.

"We," he huffs, still out of breath, "...should take a bath."

He's surprised when this causes Komaeda to suddenly raise his head, breathing an almost inaudible, shaky, "no".

He also doesn't expect his partner to turn himself around by slightly straightening his back and grabbing onto Hinata's shirt, taking a step only to almost immediately crumble.

Hinata quickly catches Komaeda in his arms, a look of sudden concern filling his face. The man takes advantage of the support, swinging his arms around the other's neck to make proper eye contact with him.

Komaeda looks like a mess, tears staining the corner of his eyes and drool running down his lips, all while his face is almost entirely red. His eyes are also hazy, as though he's not entirely connected with reality.

"Hajime," Komaeda attempts a grin, especially when the use of Hinata's given name causes his boyfriend's face to get red, "let's go… another round."

Hinata opens his mouth to say something, but looking down at his clearly needy partner, he can't find it in himself to object.

So much for his plan to get eight hours of sleep.

#pineapple writes #unsafe #komahina #confusement and betrayal: komahina

[eslfast]

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[capri-ramblings]

Can I request yandere headcannons for Leona, Jamil, Kalim, and Jade with a s/o who has trust issues?

Let's be honest aside from Kalim and Jade,Leona and Jamil has major trust issues as well lmao but here you go! Thank you for requesting and waiting! ♥️

Please refer to Pinned post for crucial information of my situation.

Jamil Viper

- He enjoys it even if he doesn't say so aloud

- He puts on a 'Sad, conflicting boyfriend' act whenever his s/o starts showing signs of their trust issues, not only to convince people he's doing his best to make the relationship work but also to use it against his s/o whenever his yandere tendencies starts to reveal itself

- The quick shift of emotions in their eyes when they lash out at him for not understanding their problems and seeing how hurt he was by that statement...There's simply nothing that could beat the satisfaction Jamil feels after winning every argument with the same trick

- Sometimes he finds it slightly annoying, simply because it's harder for him to fool them into a few of his possessive traps because they're always filled with questions as to why they have to do what he says

- But it's nothing he can't handle

- Having issues meant he could manipulate them fairly easy once he's figured out the basis of it

- Won't push his luck too far though, Jamil is extremely careful with an s/o who won't openly trust him at times just so he wouldn't push their buttons too far in

- Likes tormenting them by using their lack of trust in his faithfulness. Incidents where they'll call him late at night and ask him when he'll be home is a game Jamil loves to watch them lose at

- The sound of their quiet yet steely voice over the other line, attempting to sound harsh when Jamil already picked up the nasally tone that indicated they'd cried earlier, gets him off more than anything

- The naked feeling of someone being so dependent on him is luxury food for this Viper's ego and the more that swell of frustration in his s/o grows, the hungrier he gets

Leona Kingscholar

- "What the hell is wrong with you?"

- Being one of the most laziest yandere, Leona would be very unkind to an s/o like this,not even caring if how he addressed their issue offended them

- He doesn't mind at all if you didn't find trust in others, in fact, he encourages it. The more people surround you, the more he had to hunt down and kill off pesky free loaders in his territory

- But applying that same mistrust to him?

- You can say he'll act very aggressive about it

- By all means,no one should trust him, this fact Leona acknowledges but this issue makes his s/o more aware, if not paranoid of their surroundings and that usually means they think more which would lead to a lot of unnecessary drama Leona doesn't want to put up with

- Like Jamil he would use it against them,toying with their insecurities about the relationship and where they stood in his life but unlike Jamil, Leona gives little care for the damage it ensues

- He would spend an entire week at Farena's palace without telling them and come back with all kind of scents sticking to him and when his s/o questions him about it, he just smirks smugly

- "I was having fun."

- He knows that look they gave him was of hurt and extreme anxiousness but he doesn't care, you can't build a new bridge over an old one after all, right? You'd have to break the first then build the second.

- Leona's tactic is crude compared to how he'd usually settle for, but only because he's emotionally invested in his s/o

- Long story short, Leona would push the limits of his s/o trust issues to completely have them fall under his weight so he could pick them up by himself and build their new world around him

Jade Leech

- Jade is probably one of the kinder yanderes on this list

- Why? Because he'd have the most patience and the best tactic to flank the issue

- An s/o who can't openly trust themselves with people is simply a sign of social neglect on their part, maybe somewhere in their childhood or during their adolescent years

- Jade will find the root of the problem and from there slowly starts to test the waters with his s/o

- Seeing what would trigger their mistrust towards others and how they reacted to it

- Once that's all put out into the light, Jade will move to the second phase

- He'll play out scenarios,just to see how on point he is with his observation, but then the more he watches the more he starts to accept that this issues of theirs was not troubling to him at all

- They didn't trust people and that usually meant they'd spend less time somewhere they weren't familiar or comfortable with which gave Jade a very stable sense of control over them

- Sure,they tend to be wary with him but then again who isn't? Jade is fully aware of the many eyes that avert his when he and Floyd walks down the hallway.

- All he had to do was simply play the humble game

- Jade's ego isn't starved so he has no problem with adjusting his personality to suit his s/o's mistrustful nature, in fact,he might even admit he likes it

- Seeing how they have doubts over everyone in their life and how that emotionally hurts them makes Jade smile,he's a sadist who doesn't even need to lift a hand to make his s/o come crying to him for comfort

Kalim Al-Asim

- Terrible. This whole issue is a heavy burden on this boy, he doesn't really care if they couldn't trust other people but how could they possibly include him as well?

- He loves them, he wouldn't do anything to betray them

- Kalim is by nature kind, but in his delusional state of possessiveness, he simply can't accept this... disability of theirs

- A long lasting relationship starts with a strong foundation of trust, if he couldn't have that with his s/o, doesn't that mean their love was only momentarily?

- Kalim will try too hard to prove to his s/o that he can be trusted, even going as far as restraining himself from the the usual tendencies of the Yandere he's become

- He gives them more space, decreases the time he spends with them to let their friends talk to them like usual

- He even stops stalking them for awhile, but everyone has their limits, and Kalim's is when his s/o hesitates despite all his efforts

- The wavering look in their eyes when they turn to him

- He hates it. This shouldn't be happening.

- Kalim is a reckless yandere to say the least, unlike some, he doesn't really think things through and often allows his emotions to act out which results in very dramatic trauma

- The last time they hesitated when Kalim asked if they would place their life in his hands, he slipped himself a small amount of poison in his drink and had them tending to him a whole week, not that they knew of course. To everyone except Kalim, it was an almost tragic incident.

- He'd do anything to make them trust him, even when it's not really acceptance that has his s/o listening to his every word. The fact that they're scared for him is fine enough for Kalim

- Because even if they couldn't learn to trust him wholeheartedly, Kalim was very aware that their soft heart wouldn't let him be alone after so many horrible accidents.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst jamil viper #twst kalim al asim #twst leona kingscholar #twst jade leech #yandere Leona #yandere jade #yandere jamil #yandere kalim #twst wonderland yandere #male yandere

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: maybe not star-crossed (but daybreak)

Author: @fieldofsunflowers8

For: @emmakoneko

Pairings: Hinata Hajime / Komaeda Nagito

Additional Characters: Kamukura Izuru, Nanami Chiaki

Rating: M

Warnings: No specific warning applies beside the ones that could be applied in Danganronpa in general

Prompt: Hajime realising he loves Nagito.

Author’s notes: hi!!! this is my exchange piece for the komahina secret exchange!!! this was super super fun to write, and i really hope my giftee likes it! special thanks to my friend for looking over this and making sure it’s coherent :D have a good day, loves!

Hinata Hajime is not a romantic, but romance fills his thoughts anyway.

It’s an identifier that isn’t exactly of importance, of course. Romance on Jabberwock Island, specifically in the aftermath of the Neo World Program, is something privately kept by each individual pairing. Occasionally, it’ll be the subject of harmless speculation on the slow days, but overall, it is just… a part of life.

A part of life that most of them never got to fully experience.

A part of life that Hinata doesn’t necessarily need to have a piece of.

A part of life that he wants, all the same.

He isn’t certain if it’s the influence of Kamukura on him that makes him hesitate in the face of it. The other is a lull in the back of his head most of the time, diminishing everything to uninteresting, and yet seamlessly taking control when Hinata gives the slightest hint of needing help, slipping into the role of the Ultimate Talent easily. It’s a difficult dynamic, and it would be a lie to consider it a linear sort of thing– lines blur when you are made to become another person, and further, residing with that person in the headspace.

Hinata wonders if, before it all happened, back at Hope’s Peak Academy in the suffocating reserve course dorms, with little to hope for… he maybe pined after romance in a desperate way, if he wanted something to break the suffocating silence, if it would all really be any different to him now.

It’s not something he needs right now, which is what he tries to convince himself matters the most. He has enough overwhelming quiet, and even more overwhelming noise. He has tasks to commit to– even though all of the Remnants have awakened, there are Future Foundation members to call, emails to send, resources to manage, buildings to reconstruct, surgeries to conduct… it keeps him busy, to say the least.

(He hardly allows himself more than the clinical, repetitive process of healing. Not his own healing– that is far from the forefront of his mind. Rather, constructing robot arms and extracting rotting body parts and starting up chemotherapy. For the others. Not him,

never him.)

Prioritizing romance is selfish, in all cases. Putting it before himself and everyone on the island, losing himself in the want of something he isn’t even sure he could recognize, if he saw it in front of him, if he had a flickering chance of love… it’s selfish. Excess. A lapse.

However, there is still a kind of yearning he keeps in the back of his mind, in the endlessly swallowing part of his throat, in the throes of his heart. A sort of fixation, solely focused on a single individual, who keeps him awake through restless nights and sends him directly to the infirmary for more work, who leads him to discover new places on the island that the person tends to frequent, who leaves him with an unfamiliar warmth that his body rejects like a disease because love is not-

One that defies all his wants and needs, all his thoughts on relationships and the others, all his thoughts on the person whom he thought he hated more than anything.

One fixated on Komaeda Nagito.

And this is where his doubt is born.

–

The first time he hears the name Komaeda Nagito is in a time before the seeds of despair were planted by his hands, before The Project became more than just a whisper of Hope’s Peak conspiracy and research. He hears it from Nanami Chiaki, before she became just a program, before an entire class gave into despair at the sight of her death.

He hears it from her at the fountain. Their fountain, he has taken to calling it, because while they aren’t exactly the only people to come here, they are most certainly the two students who frequent it the most. Before, it was a place to admire Hope’s Peak from a distance (one he maintained out of respect, or maybe self-hatred, or maybe an amalgamation of both), but after meeting Nanami, the cynical tones of the setting were replaced with a sort of safe haven.

It’s now comforting, for him, to hear the sound of her game starting up against the sound of rushing water, leaves and blossoms fluttering around them as the sun lights up the campus around them.

In all honesty, it’s easy to get lost in the surroundings, in his own thoughts, especially when he has the space to. Nanami rarely presses any matter, unless it is something she’s particularly passionate about, so Hinata zoning out isn’t exactly an issue for her. It’s not like she doesn’t do the same. Which leaves them with a pretty nice relationship, because either of them are free to completely lose themselves in their thoughts without having to make small talk.

However, he does jar himself back to reality to pay attention to the game she’s playing– it’s a survival game, which is sort of exciting, because that’s the kind of video game he thinks he’d be best at– and listens to the soft breath she always takes before she starts to speak.

“Do you know a lot of Ultimates, Hinata-kun?” is what she asks, her voice as dreamy as usual.

It’s sort of a harsh question unintentionally, since it sort of nags at the parts of him that wishes he could be an Ultimate, would do anything to be an Ultimate, but he shoves that down and keeps his voice casual. (It’s not a big deal, anyway. Nanami affirms him of his worth a lot, and really, he should just… accept that things are the way that they are. But it’s really, really not that easy. Not when everything seems to loom above him, dangling promises of talent and hope).

“Uh, not really?” he answers tentatively. “I mean, I know Koizumi, and I sort of know Kuzuryuu because I’m friends with his sister.” Friends is probably not the right word for it, but being her friend is pretty much impossible. “And I know you, of course. But, I dunno about the others.”

“Mm,” she hums. She focuses back on her game for a while, and Hinata focuses right alongside her, but she ends up speaking again only a few moments later. “I was just thinking… a lot of my classmates would really like you.”

“Oh?” He leans forward, just a bit. “I don’t really know much about them, but maybe?”

It’s not really relevant, in any case, or possible, because I’m a reserve. So, why do I want to entertain this impossibility?

“Well, I can tell you about some of them.” There’s some passion in her voice, underneath the languid sort of pace her words take.

He shrugs. “Sure.”

She opens her inventory as sort of a pause screen, organizing all of the items while talking. “There’s Mioda-san. She’s… sorta loud, but she’s the Ultimate Musician, so that makes sense, I think. She’s really optimistic, she likes bright colors… reminds me of a dancing game… you’d get along with her, probably.” The idea that Hinata could be friends with someone like Mioda Ibuki is unsettling in a hopeless way, but he’s interested in the descriptions regardless. “She gets along well with Pekoyama-san, who’s the Ultimate Swordswoman. She’s really pretty and quiet; she’s defensive over Kuzuryuu-kun, too. Like a Skyrim housecarl, kinda. I remember Komaeda-kun saying something, once, and she was immediately at Kuzuryuu-kun’s defense. I don’t think Komaeda-kun meant it badly, though.”

Hinata tilts his head. “Who’s Komaeda?”

Nanami bites her lip, stacking some potions before saying, “He’s the Ultimate Lucky Student. He’s… sort of an outcast, I think, but he cares about the class a lot. I wish he would talk to us more.” She puffs out her cheeks in a cute way. “You might like him… but you also might hate him. Maybe.”

“Why would I hate him?” From what Hinata’s hearing, maybe dislike would make sense, but hate sort of implies he would have done something… really off.

“Mm… Komaeda-kun has strong views on talent and hope. It might annoy you, but…” she sighs. “I dunno.”

That’s a vague description, but it gives Hinata enough information to sort of… make inferences. Of course, Hinata sort of expected some Ultimates to view talent as superiority, and he knew that some of the adults believed it, but to hear it being an actual thing from someone his age… sort of sucks. At least the rest of the class seems to not agree with it.

But… is Hinata really sure of that?

In any case, he tunes back into the way Nanami continues talking about her classmates, about a sheepish mechanic and a princess she seems to have a slight crush on. He laughs along with her, listens with intrigue and fascination at some of the things her class has done and somehow not gotten expelled for, and feels the sense of peace grow overtime (alongside his quiet bitterness).

All the while, though, part of his mind thinks about Komaeda with a… weird sort of interest.

(And for some reason, Hinata wants to both avoid him as much as possible– which might be a bit harsh, admittedly– and also… maybe meet him.)

–

Hinata doesn’t sleep well.

His sleep patterns vary. Sometimes, he falls asleep in a random place– he’s been found on the floor of the dining hall and at the beach, once, both instances embarrassing– and stays asleep for the better part of a day, barely brushing below twenty hours as he restores his energy. Then, he pushes himself, neglecting rest for three days straight until he downright collapses again.

He tends to get nightmares, too. When he’s sleeping deeply and for a long time, it’s not enough to jar him. When he first woke up from the Neo World Program, though, they were relentless, leaving him paranoid and guilty constantly for all he has done to his friends– his family, now.

His family that he needs to stay awake to care for. His family he has to keep intact– physically and mentally.

(He remembers that, for a week, all he saw in his dreams was a burning warehouse.)

He doesn’t sleep well, working on restocking and labelling all the medications they have in the infirmary, and he finds that none of the others sleep well, either. Some sleep too much, some function on caffeine and nothing else. But there’s one other person on the island that varies with Hinata, not exactly the same but similarly.

Komaeda.

Hinata’s been monitoring Komaeda’s progress closely, almost closer than the way he fusses over the others. Komaeda’s health is precarious, even with the rotting flesh of Enoshima’s arm fully removed from his body, and one of the facets of his lifestyle that directly impacts his not-ideal progress is his shitty sleep schedule.

A simple example: he falls asleep at 4:00 PM, wakes up at around 7:29 PM. He goes to the dining hall, all of the other inhabitants having finished dinner and retired to their rooms for the later parts of the afternoon, and eats a worryingly small portion of dinner. He goes to his room, stays up for hours, and falls again the following day at 10:00 PM, successfully bypassing lunch and repeating the process.

It’s horrible in every possible way– it doesn’t do wonders for his prognoses and mental health, and Hinata doesn’t like the dark circles under his eyes that grow more familiar with each progressing day.

(It doesn’t suit his face. Because, well, Hinata can acknowledge that Komaeda is very, very pretty. But the shadows are… worrying. He still looks beautiful, but he looks more fragile than he’s ever been, even in the green pods, and Hinata wonders why he’s worried in a way beyond medical observation.)

However, there is one benefit to it, a meek silver lining that could hardly be considered one at all: Komaeda and Hinata end up accidentally interacting quite a lot. Komaeda follows lights– buildings with fluorescents open, signalling that Hinata is currently occupying them– and Hinata follows the soft sounds of Komaeda hanging out at the beach, throwing rocks into the ocean or tripping on some ridges and yelping.

The latter ends up happening when he exits the infirmary and sees in the distance a white-haired man face first on the beach shore, and he sighs in a way that isn’t fully exasperated as he walks over to help him out (maybe fond, maybe fond).

Komaeda tilts his face, his cheek still buried in sand, and looks up at Hinata. He decisively accepts his help, straightening himself out and brushing the sand off his pants with a smile. His voice is cheerful– far too cheerful for 5:00 AM– as he says, “Good morning, Hinata-kun! I’m so sorry you had to see me in such a disgraceful way!”

Hinata rolls his eyes. “You weren’t disgraceful. You just tripped. Also, why are you even out here?”

Komaeda’s lips curl slyly. “Do you even have to ask, Hinata-kun?”

“Ah.” Fair enough. “Well, you should, uh, try to get some sleep.”

“Will Hinata-kun get some sleep?”

It’s equally frustrating to talk to Komaeda and get him to do anything… and interesting. There’s also a bit of heat that wants to pour into his cheeks, something he fights with a poker face, at the idea that Komaeda cares about his sleep schedule. Technically, a lot of people on the island do, but it all comes back to the inexplicable feelings he has around the other. In any case, Komaeda’s due for an answer. “I was actually heading back to my cabin to do that.” It’s sort of a lie. Sort of.

(He was probably going to lay awake, staring at the ceiling again. Maybe he’ll think about the other, maybe he’ll think about everything else.)

“Can I come with you?” Komaeda asks.

Hinata squints. “… Why? How would that help either of us sleep?”

“It could be relaxing to be near another person,” Komaeda defends, his logic slightly flawed. “But I understand that being around me is absolutely dreadful, and I shouldn’t impose even the disturbing thought upon another person. I apologize for that, Hinata-kun! I’ll get out of your sight, now!”

“Wait,” Hinata finds himself saying before Komaeda can actually leave. The other stops and looks at him, a curious but not demanding expression in his murky grey eyes. It’s sort of cute. Hinata isn’t sure why, why he looks at the other in that way.

It’s with a defeated sigh that he says, “You can come with me,”

and Komaeda’s eyes light up in a way that’s really, really endearing.

–

The first time he meets Komaeda is a month after his conversation with Nanami.

Stress has settled onto his shoulders, making a permanent residence there, as exams approach at increasingly rapid paces and life-changing emails chase him forward, forward, forward. He finds little enjoyment in his spaces between classes, isolating himself up in his room and hardly having time to reply to any of his friends (not that there’s an overwhelming number of people on that list). Occasionally he takes a break, but these times just remind him that he has so much to do, so much to consider, his entire life might change with a few signatures and-

-he needs a breather.

He ends up leaving half-finished history homework on his tiny desk, nearly tripping over his laundry bin in exhaustion as he makes his way out of the dorms. He figures a small walk might do him some good, since he’s hardly seen the sun as of recent and it might be less intimidating to think through things when he has fresh air to breathe and the soft ambience of nature surrounding him.

He hums to himself for the first part of his walk, careful to stay out of the way of others, but he eventually falls into silence as the number of people around him dwindles. He’s tired– he’s so, so fucking tired– and he should probably be adjusted to fatigue and restless nights, since he’s not exactly new to overworking himself, but he hasn’t. Not fully. And God, he’d probably kill for a nap, for someone to hear him scream everything he thinks, to go to a completely different school for a few days and relax.

But would he even want that? Would he know what to do with so much free time? Would it even be okay, going to a place that would view him as equal, not endlessly lesser than another sector of the school? Would it even make sense to be worth something, when he has spent so long not being worth anything?

It’s in this rumination that he ends up near him and Nanami’s fountain, and he almost expects to see her there…

… but instead, he sees someone else.

The Main Course uniform is the first thing he sees, the red tie loose around the Ultimate’s neck, their jacket still buttoned properly. They must have been out there for a while, since their white hair, unruly atop their head, is slightly ruffled from the wind. Their grey-green eyes that remind Hinata of mercury he had seen in chemistry class is focused on the pavement, but looks up when Hinata’s footsteps grow closer. On their face, there’s a pleasant smile, one that Hinata finds strikingly pretty…

… one that disappears when they make eye contact with Hinata.

He can’t say he expected anything other than this.

“I thought reserve course classes were still in session,” they muse, which is an interesting conversation starter in any case. Paired with the way they were almost glaring at Hinata, it left him with… an unsettling feeling.

“They, uh, aren’t,” he replies eloquently. “They ended a bit ago.”

“Ah.” They smile, slightly, but it looks… more cold than friendly. “Can I get a name? Or should I just refer to you as ‘reserve-kun’?”

Hinata quickly decides he doesn’t like this person. “Uh, Hinata Hajime.”

They nod. “Komaeda Nagito.”

That name is… kind of familiar.

Oh. Oh. That’s the name of Nanami’s classmate. The Ultimate Lucky Student, who has strong views on talent and hope, if he remembers Nanami’s words correctly. Someone that Hinata would either like or hate– and it is strongly veering towards the later– someone who is a bit of an outcast. Someone who Hinata isn’t sure if he should have a lot of pity for, or none at all.

He’s heard more stories since, ones where Komaeda is a background character. He’s gotten the vague idea that aside from his unsettling opinions, he also tends to be an overall concerning individual, with a shocking inferiority complex, calling himself trash near constantly. It seemed to worry Nanami, which in turn worried Hinata.

But from the way this guy is talking, it doesn’t really seem like this guy feels inferior at all. At least, not compared to Hinata. Which is…

… not surprising.

Hinata isn’t really sure how to progress the conversation, especially one that started this oddly, so he figures he should make do with this new information, asking, “Oh, you know Nanami, right?”

“Nanami-san is my classmate, yes.” He tilts his head to the side and sits up a bit straighter. “You must be the reserve she’s friends with, then. In retrospect, I remember she’s mentioned your name once or twice. I thought she was kidding.”

Yeah. Hinata definitely doesn’t like this guy. “Well. She wasn’t.”

“So it seems.”

This conversation is going nowhere. “Well, I’m gonna go. And, uh. Finish my walk. So-”

Before Hinata can leave, Komaeda speaks up. “Don’t you feel awe, Hinata-kun, walking around Hope’s Peak, looking at a school filled with such hope and talent?” He punctuates those words, wrapping his arms around himself and looking up at Hinata. “Doesn’t it put you in your place? Knowing that you’re a stepping stone for hope, just here to further the Ultimates’ abilities? Isn’t it beautiful, so beautiful that you know you’re unworthy of it? Do you have another purpose aside from this, or do you put your value in mindlessly pacing the perimeter of Hope’s Peak Ac-”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” Hinata interrupts. This guy looks really worked up over the random bullshit he’s saying. He’s managed to get under Hinata’s skin really fast– which, yeah, Hinata has kind of a temper, but Jesus Christ.

This must be the whole concerning thing.

Komaeda just smiles wider. “You’re rather disrespectful for a reserve. Shouldn’t you be worshipping me? I mean, I’m utterly worthless in every possible way and deserve to be destroyed like the filth I am– but at least I’m an Ultimate.”

Hinata gives up, walking away from the other and running an agitated hand through his hair. He can hear Komaeda laughing raspily, still at the fountain, and it just forces his steps to go quicker.

(The most aggravating part of all of that is that it hurt. It shouldn’t– the opinion of a slightly-unhinged, annoying, pretty Ultimate shouldn’t hurt him. But it did.

Because there was some truth in that mess of shit he was saying. Hinata is inferior. Hinata would always be inferior to the Ultimates he looks up to– not as much as Komaeda said, but still. The whole being a stepping stone thing, he didn’t get, but… he is unworthy of this place. That much is true. That much hurts.)

He decides, without much hesitation, not to mention the encounter to anyone.

–

“Uh, make yourself at home, I guess,” Hinata says when Komaeda steps into his cottage, his eyes wide as he looks around the scene. Which is fair– Hinata hasn’t exactly had time to clean the place, and he’s sort of a restless sleeper, so it’s a shitshow of a mess, as of current. Komaeda’s room, from what Hinata’s seen, is a lot neater than this, so hopefully he isn’t all that judging.

(Not that Hinata really cares about Komaeda’s thoughts on his cabin.)

“Thank you, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda replies politely, sitting on the edge of the bed. Hinata sits beside him, and they both ignore the bed sheets that are tangled at their feet. “Once again, I apologize for intruding.”

“I invited you,” Hinata points out.

Komaeda frowns a bit. “Well, yes, but-”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you here. I don’t exactly do things out of pity or kindness when I’ve been awake for over a day,” he states bluntly.

The other stares at him with a weird expression in his eye, something like understanding. “Ah.”

“Yeah.” Hinata kicks the sheets. “Speaking of.”

“Are you going to sleep, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda sort of teases, but there’s a level of seriousness in it. Hinata sort of hates the way the other makes him feel like he’s fucking up by neglecting himself (which is sort of an oxymoron in thought, but). It’s something Komaeda has always done– made Hinata feel like a fuck up, that is– but it’s sort of different, now, when it’s more of a constructive criticism than a blatant attack.

He’s not sure how he feels about the change.

“I was going to talk about you sleeping, actually,” he retorts, clearing his throat.

Komaeda smiles mischievously. “Did you invite me here just to watch me sleep? How flattering, Hinata-kun, but I assure you I would not be able to do harm to others or myself whilst asleep.”

“That’s,” he takes a deep breath, “not what I meant.”

“Ah, okay. Sorry for assuming!”

“It’s fine?” It sounds too much like a question to his ears, but. Whatever. “I just meant, like. I’m sort of concerned about your health.”

“This doesn’t seem like the mood to discuss this,” Komaeda observes.

Hinata blinks. “Was there a specific mood set by any of this?”

Komaeda looks unimpressed. “Hinata-kun, we’re in your room at 5:00 AM, spending time together. I don’t think this is ideal for a medical visit– especially considering how exhausted you are. I thought you were more trying to be a person than a doctor, right now.”

… There’s some truth in that. There’s some pain in that. Hinata doesn’t try to be inhuman in any way, but he knows, deep down, that it’s a difficult task to accomplish. Months of conditioning combined with the instinctual drive for survival resulted in Kamukura’s eternal boredom and apathy to manifest as a defense mechanism, one that Hinata employs in situations that aren’t necessarily defense-requiring. Like administering medicine, or investigating his own psyche, or trying to breach any topic with Komaeda.

He hates it, but it’s part of him, neither nature nor nurture. Just… a trait, forced upon him, one he has to adapt to.

“Hinata-kun?” Komaeda’s smile is thin. “I apologize for overstepping!”

“It’s fine.” He sort of has a headache. Maybe he should sleep. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“Ah, Hinata-kun doesn’t have to apologize! He can do whatever he likes! I still appreciate him regardless!” he reassures enthusiastically, in an almost adoring way.

… And. The thing is.

Hinata has been viscerally aware of Komaeda’s attraction to him ever since he awoke from the Neo World Program. It didn’t take overwhelming amounts of self reflection and memory analysis to realize that Komaeda has had feelings for him, ever since the Despair Era, when neither of them were the person they are now or were before it all began. It’s present in Servant’s endless worship and Komaeda’s subtle (and sometimes, less subtle) affections.

It’s something that Hinata thought, initially, he could just… accept. The fact that the other likes him is simply a fact of life, like the fact that this same individual is still suffering from frontotemporal dementia and lymphoma, like the fact that the other has trauma neither of them can even begin to impact, like the fact that Hinata is privy to entirely too much about the other that he’s hardly aware of.

This is why his yearning and fondness for Komaeda, despite his conflicting thoughts of romance, takes him by surprise. The idea that Komaeda’s affections could be requited is a shocking concept to both of them, one that might be earth-shattering or simply a natural progression of their current behavior. It’s a thought that he keeps in the back of his mind, primarily, believing that not much can be done until Komaeda heals.

And yet, it surfaces in the quiet moments like this, where Komaeda has that energetically adoring expression, where the moonlight accentuates his face in a pretty way that will only get more beautiful with daybreak, where Hinata is just staring at him mindlessly. It surfaces like this, and Hinata wonders, to himself, if he loves the other.

If this is how it comes to him.

“Hinata-kun?”

Or maybe it’s just a lapse.

“I’m tired,” he replies, which isn’t a proper response but it is the only thing he can find himself saying, right then.

Komaeda nods and starts to stand up, “Ah, okay! I apologize if I bored you, I know I can tend to do that. I hope you sleep well, Hinata-kun-”

Hinata catches his wrist.

“Maybe,” he inhales. “You can stay? And sleep beside me?”

Komaeda’s face shifts, emotions spreading across his face like auroras, but they’re quickly stifled by another smile, one that seems a bit more genuine. “Ah, of course! Whatever Hinata-kun wants.” He takes the eagerness Komaeda exhibits while taking off his shoes and scooting to the center of the bed as confirmation that Komaeda wants this as well.

It’s odd how Hinata has the courage to ask something like that, despite everything.

Hinata draws the curtains closed, hoping that the sun won’t wake them up, and he slips beside Komaeda in bed. The other adjusts well to sleeping in someone else’s bed, all things considered, but he looks fairly stiff all the same. Hinata knows there’s nothing he can do to change his slight discomfort– anything he could do would be a bit too courageous, and he’s already expressed a lot of bravery considering that he’s more contemplative than rash, at the moment.

So he lays down beside him, facing the other who faces away, and he finds himself tracing the contours of his body (innocuous and entirely unrelated to medical concerns), the way his hair curls against his nape, how his hands lay at his sides. It calms him to study the other, and he wonders if that is love, if all of this is love, even if he has a thousand other concerns.

It takes a pathetically short five minutes before he says, “Komaeda…?”

“Yes, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda still sounds awake. He wonders if he was planning on sleeping at all.

He breathes out a soft exhale. “Can we talk?”

–

He does not see Komaeda again until after despair overcomes the world.

But by then, both him and Komaeda are separate people. The memories prior to the creation of himself– Kamukura Izuru, that being– are vague and only documented in a diary that Hinata Hajime struggled to maintain. And Servant, while not suffering direct memory loss of everything regarding Hope’s Peak Academy, does not appear to want to verbally recall anything regarding the school to Kamukura. This could be from lack of trust. This could be his nature.

They meet in a bloodied street, bodies scattered across the asphalt in an unpleasing way. From an aesthetic standpoint, it is disgusting, but Kamukura does not necessarily dislike it. He does not dislike anything.

He only finds this despair base.

Servant’s hands are dirtied from crusted blood, which is to be expected. His hair is awry, his face in a considerably tormented frown, and his attire is dirtied aside from his chain that drags obnoxiously loud on the pavement.

Kamukura clears his throat.

His face shifts drastically when he sees Kamukura, which is the most interesting part of his appearance, as of current, and he immediately drops to his knees. It is certainly an interesting display, yet predictable, and Servant’s voice is raspy when he says, “Kamukura Izuru.”

“So you have heard of me.” That is understandable. The only reason Kamukura is at this location, after all, is because Enoshima requested prior to her death that Kamukura take ownership of Servant. She had considered it a present to him, but Kamukura finds nothing to be a gift, especially when it is at her hands.

One of her hands is severed and attached in place of where Servant’s would be. Expectable.

“You’re the Ultimate Hope,” he breathes. “I- I have been looking for you-”

“How convenient,” he cuts off his likely obnoxious rambling. He does not want to hear about his godhood from the lens of a worshipper. “As I was looking for you.”

Servant’s face flushes. “You were looking for me? Ahaha, I’m sure you must be mistaken.”

“Enoshima stated that in her death, you were to be my property. Transitive ownership.” His face twists at the sound of her name, which is not necessarily expected, but can be easily explained retroactively. “You are mindlessly idling, as of current. You plan to travel to Towa City, but have not done so yet. You have killed seventeen people directly in your time of being a Remnant of Despair, but you are growing bored.”

Despite his wide eyes and droll expression, Servant is clever enough to catch on. “You would like me to travel with you, Kamukura-kun? I warn you, I am useless in every possible way and unworthy of your presence.”

Kamukura glares at him. “I will determine that.”

“… Understood.” Servant hesitates before standing up, and there is shocking amounts of excitement in his expression. “I apologize for being overeager, I’ve never travelled with someone like this before. Someone like you before.”

“That is to be expected,” Kamukura says as he begins to walk, stepping over corpses with grace as the Remnant beside him trips and stumbles, babbling about despair and hope and talent all the way.

From there, an attachment forms. They continue to travel in this manner, relocating from place to place with little but each other’s companionship (and what they can find, in this cataclysmic scenario– assorted piles of canned vegetables and month-old water bottles). Along the way grows learning, basic answers to questions that benefit both of them only slightly, though prove to be boring, as Kamukura does not have a favorite color or movie or food. But the basis of small talk leads to a more expanded exploration of morality, of death and life and the liminality of such matters, philosophy and physics and their prediction for where the world will be.

Kamukura discovers, then, that Servant is not capable of matching him in intelligence. However, he nears close to having this ability, exhibiting his cleverness in a distinctly separate way than how Enoshima enforced her analytical prowess upon her victims. It is refreshing, to have this difference. It is refreshing, by extension, to have him.

That is how the evolution of their relationship begins.

Sexual ties between them have been present from the start. Servant is poor at concealing his overwhelming attraction to the other, and Kamukura has curiosities he was not interested in exploring with Enoshima. Thus begins tumultuous, albeit safe to an extent, exploratory intercourse, which Kamukura finds not particularly boring.

Then becomes an inherent domesticity in residing together, in sharing beds (although, Servant only allows himself to sleep beside Kamukura if he is particularly in pain, that day. Kamukura does not necessarily mind if Servant continues to sleep beside him, but it is a matter of principle that is tedious to undo, especially with no distinct want to commit effort to it). Along with sleeping together, there is having meals together, defending each other from robotic Monokumas when it becomes necessary, and even reading together.

It is all not particularly interesting. It is all not particularly boring. It exists in a grey area that Kamukura struggles to define.

He dislikes struggling.

There is a particular day, once, that he would consider lucky (were he to indulge in this thought towards Servant, the other would likely break down) due to the numerous realizations had. The primary one, and the most convoluted one by far, is the realization that he is perhaps infatuated with the other.

It comes whilst Servant is asleep, his body bare aside from the marring of bruises and hickeys, thin sheets layered in dust resting atop him. Kamukura observes him from where he sits at the edge of the bed, admiring the way the red sky highlights Servant’s body in an almost rosy way, porcelain skin glimmering with red contours that made the Ultimate Artist in Kamukura transfixed. Part of him desired to reach out and trace his body on impulse– and it would not be the first time he sought touch out of poorly placed impulse. However, he refrains.

A small part of him– a romantic, likely, in all but practice– finds that touching him may, perhaps, detract from the natural beauty he exudes. It is not like Kamukura is anything other than manmade.

This is a thought that crosses his mind often. Rather, the latter is. However, with Servant in his life as a catalyst, the frequency of such thoughts rapidly accelerates, and he finds a sense of permanence in the other. Something he is rather interested in exploring, given the time. There are many, many inquiries he would indulge in, given the time.

They are not given time.

He had prepared an injection in advance, one to make Servant unconscious for approximately 48 hours. It is enough time to execute a procedure that would remove Servant’s memories of Kamukura, a similar procedure that he will attempt to repeat on himself (he has done thorough research into lobotomies due to his experiences. Even without this research, it would not be a particularly difficult task. However, his emotions pose a hindrance). He is aware that he should inject Servant now, as, according to his predictions and intuition, he has confidence in the fact that the Future Foundation will locate them within that period of time.

He would like to evade them. He knows he is able to, that he has a capacity to outwit them, that Servant would heed every command necessary to guarantee their survival. After all, there is no certainty in the prospect that the Future Foundation would keep them alive.

Despite this, Kamukura is… curious. He is intrigued as to what the Future Foundation will do, once they capture him and Servant, and he knows that they cannot evade the Future Foundation forever. They will grow bored.

It is regrettable, he thinks as he injects Servant with the serum, stroking his hair for purely selfish purposes as he does so. It is regrettable that they did not have infinite time together. However, Servant is dying to his own illness, and Kamukura is dying, metaphorically, to the boredom that he can not fully stave away, even with his agreeable companionship. It is poetic, in the same sense, that they will be captured and perhaps be executed before they could fully breach the barrier of worship and love, something Kamukura is not certain he could attain.

In all senses, it is over, and Servant will not remember him by the time he awakes in the grasp of the Future Foundation.

(A part of Kamukura recalls their first meeting with feigned nostalgia, remnants of the emotion that must have existed before his creation, and he wonders– or, cynically, he hopes– that he may meet the other again, and finish the life they began.)

–

Komaeda rolls over and smiles, slightly sleepy. “What do you want to talk about, Hinata-kun?” After a pause, he asks, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” he says with a little too much force. “I’ve just had some. Things on my mind. That I want to talk about?”

It’s sort of a half-truth, because it feels wrong to say that it’s been something on his mind. Because it has been, and it has been for a while– but he hardly knows if what he’s feeling is love, if it’s worth indulging in this when he has so much to work on. If he can even be certain of his thoughts at all.

But he wants to talk to Komaeda– maybe to get perspective, and finally decide.

So, he closes his eyes and starts talking. “I was thinking about the simulation, and before. More specifically, us.”

He can hear the bitterness in Komaeda’s voice when he says, “Ah. How I betrayed and belittled you?”

“Not exactly.” But it’s part of it. “… You said in the simulation that you were in love with me, right?”

There’s a pause. One that’s long enough that Hinata almost wants to open his eyes, but he needs to isolate himself in his thoughts temporarily, dissect the words and his feelings and come to a conclusion. It’s something he’s good at (but love isn’t survival games, or class trials. If they were, he would have figured this out a long time ago, back when Nanami was still around).

When Komaeda eventually speaks, it’s brief but telling. “… Yes.”

“And. You didn’t like me much before all of that, but… as Servant, you-”

“Worshipped and admired Kamukura-kun, yes.” He sounds almost nervous. Komaeda rarely sounds like this, and it’s almost enough to stop pushing. “… Why do you ask? Don’t you already know this, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata sighs. “Yeah, technically. But I’ve been thinking about it more, and…” he opens his eyes, now. Komaeda’s face is vacant– no smile, no frown, just a straight line that wavers if he stares hard enough. His eyes are filled with emotion he can’t uncover, emotions he doesn’t want to uncover. But… he watches them carefully regardless, makes note of how they shift. “We’ve had an interesting relationship, throughout all our time knowing each other. In our one encounter back at Hope’s Peak, we didn’t get along, and things in Despair were… intimate, yet twisted.”

“That’s one way to consider it,” Komaeda says, and it isn’t quite hatred in his voice, but something close. Something Hinata knows not to take personally.

“And. I’ve been thinking about where it leaves us, now. And– I mean, it’s something in the back of my head, but not really. Filling all my thoughts? It just sort of came up while we were sitting here, before I said we should sleep, and sometimes I think about it when I’m not working around the island. So it’s sort of…” a dormant thing, has been in the back of my mind forever because I put it there, because I didn’t want to accept that I like you, because I’m too afraid and I know you are too, but there’s something about you, something about this, and I’m curious to know where it goes- “Yeah.”

Komaeda nods. “I see.”

“I think you know where I’m going with this.”

There’s a silence. Then- “I’d rather not.”

“… Rather not what?”

He already knows, but he wants to hope, wants to hope that Komaeda will allow himself this, despite everything. And yet…

… “Rather not believe what you are implying, Hinata-kun.” And the bitterness is directed at him this time, but Komaeda has always tore at him claws to hide something else, whether it be personal insecurity or infatuation or fear. Hinata thinks it might be all three, now. “You are aware of my love for you, how you could use it to your benefit, how you could disregard me and I would-” his breath catches.

“Komaeda?”

“… hardly complain,” he finishes. “I would hardly complain if you used me, because it’s you. You’re aware that you could make this so easy– and you aren’t even certain of this. I’ve been certain ever since I knew you, even when I hardly knew anything about you, even when I stayed with you to wake up on that island, I knew. But you don’t, and you could make it so easy and just give up on me, because it’s not like I would love you less or hate you more, but you’re acting on impulse. You rarely act on impulse, so why are you…”

There are tears in Komaeda’s eyes.

“… When I first met you,” Hinata starts. “I thought you were pretty. An asshole, but pretty. In despair, Kamukura was interested in you, and he was bored of everything else, even her. And he knew your worship, and that was the most boring part of you, to him, because he didn’t like being treated like a god, not by you. And… and in the simulation, I remember the betrayal I felt when I knew one of the only people I trusted turned their back on me. And- and when I saw your corpse-”

Komaeda shakes his head, but Hinata doesn’t stop. “-When I saw your corpse, I was so fucking pissed, because you’re smart and fucked up and I almost missed you that trial, despite everything. And despite everything, now when I woke you up, when I had to run into the infirmary and out of it and had to do all those fucking psychodives to get you out, I thought it was worth it.”

“Hinata-kun.”

“I thought– I knew, and I know– that you are worth it.”

And even though Komaeda’s stare is intimidating, and even though Hinata’s so uncertain of everything right now, he’s confident in that.

He’s never been more confident in anything, actually.

–

When Hinata wakes up on an unfamiliar island, with an aching head and endless questions about his surroundings, he’s greeted by a stranger, with a slight smile on their face. They had slightly tostled white hair, cloudlike and wispy, that falls just above their dim green eyes, and they have a slender yet alluring physique that Hinata almost finds pretty, in his dazed state.

After they confirm that Hinata is awake, they introduce themself. “… I’m Komaeda Nagito. Nice to meet you.”

Hinata accepts the hand he offers him and stands up, brushing sand off his pants (why are they at a beach?) and replying, “Hey, I’m Hinata Hajime.”

Komaeda leads him around the island, introducing him to all the others that had left him behind, unconscious, on the beach (he can’t really blame him. He’s still embarrassed about how he just… passed out. At least Komaeda isn’t judging him for it). He offers his own quips and commentary about the island, one Hinata finds insightful, if not slightly odd at times, and he begins to develop a trust for the other.

Sort of. Because, well, it’s not like he can really trust anyone, when they all woke up on a random fucking island with no idea of what’s going on, aside from some random shit a rabbit tells them. But, for as weird Komaeda can sometimes be and the weird situation they’re in, he establishes him as trustworthy early on. Someone to rely on, even when everything goes to hell.

(And littered in there, far enough in the back of his head that he sort of forgets about it, he is sort of infatuated with the other. In a super base way– because he’s a teenager, c’mon– but, still. Komaeda’s pretty, and he’s friendly, and he thinks there’s some significance in that.

Of course, everything changes when the first murder occurs. When the trial happens, and truths are revealed. When everything spirals downwards for the rest of their ‘island vacation’, and Hinata realizes that Komaeda should have never been trusted at all.

… But he can’t bring himself to hate him, despite everything. Even when he’s faced with his corpse.)

–

There is a long silence that fills the room, after his admission.

It’s understandable, considering that Komaeda… has never quite had anyone stay by his side as long as Hinata has. He’s probably never considered the possibility of requited love or care of anything, has never been able to reconcile with the idea that Hinata wants to stay despite the fucked-up mess of trauma and disease his brain is filled with. He probably finds himself vacant, like Hinata does, sometimes, like every quirk about him that makes him distinctive and worthy of love is completely null, and that he is cursing Hinata by being around him this long.

It’s more fucked up than Hinata can sometimes conceptualize, but. As he said, it’s worth it.

Hinata breaks the silence, knowing that he should be patient with the other, who has had his mentality partially shattered in a brief period of time, but slightly worried that the progress they’ve made would fall at a stalemate in complete silence. “… Komaeda?”

“Hinata-kun.” His voice is both empty and emotional, and it leaves an ache in Hinata’s chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand, still. I’m not…” he trails off.

“You are worth it,” Hinata insists, because he knows the way that Komaeda thinks, knows where his mind is going. “We don’t have to do anything, or be anything, if you don’t want to. I just… thought you should know, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot, so. Thought it was worth saying.”

“Worth,” Komaeda echoes quietly. His laugh is at the same volume, raspy and choked. “I… I really like you, Hinata-kun, but I can’t let you endanger yourself.”

Hinata shakes his head. “Your luck can’t affect me badly, remember? I’m lucky too.”

“It has in the past. Before you remember. When me and Kamukura-kun were together, and how bad luck and consequent good luck would follow us around. He thought it was interesting. I knew we weren’t safe. And we weren’t.” He sighs, and Hinata wants to reach out and brush his cheek with his fingertips, ensure that he isn’t just a ghost. “If I hurt you, Hinata-kun-”

“You won’t,” Hinata argues.

Komaeda raises his voice, slightly. “But if I do, then I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Knowing that you chose to have something with me, despite all your responsibilities and all the risks I bring to you just by existing… it would kill me, Hinata-kun. I’m already dying and I’ve done it once, but… it would really, really kill me. I don’t think I would be able to lose you. I don’t…” He looks so tired.

Hinata reaches out, then, and intertwines their fingers. Komaeda doesn’t push him away, and he takes it as a good sign. “You aren’t going to lose me. And I know we can’t be certain of what’ll happen in the future, but… I think we deserve something good. So much bad shit has happened, and we’re healing and everything, but I think we also deserve to find something like… hope. In each other. Y’know? And, obviously, it’s only if you want. I’m not gonna, like, make you date me, or something.” He squeezes his hand. “But, I don’t want you to keep yourself from someone you want– something we want– out of fear. We’re not going to die, Komaeda. And even if we did… every second that led to it would be worth it.”

Komaeda’s eyes flutter shut. It hurt to see the pain in his eyes, but his scrunched eyebrows and shaky lip is almost worse. “I… I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do?” Hinata asks gently.

“I…” he cuts himself off, thinking in silence as Hinata rubs circles into his palm. Eventually, his eyes open, and his expression is tentative and a bit scared, but Hinata can see some hope in it. It’s almost enough to make him smile, but he fights it off and waits for Komaeda to finish. “I… I want this. But, I don’t deserve it.”

“You want it,” Hinata reminds him softly, “and I want it. So, I think it’s okay for us to have, yeah?”

He hesitates, but eventually says, “… Maybe.”

“Maybe,” he repeats, and then he gives him a slight smile. “I can work with maybe.”

Komaeda responds with a fleeting smile, one that makes Hinata let go of his hand and tug him forward into a warm embrace. Komaeda’s face nestles into the other’s shoulder, and he can hear a muffled voice whisper, “I love you, Hinata-kun. I really do.”

A weight he thought would permanently be on his shoulders disappears, and he breathes out a long sigh of relief as he tightens his grip on Komaeda’s waist. And, with a voice that echoes himself through all of the years of knowing Komaeda, through the stress and irritation and curiosity and trust, in a journey that was just as much his as it was theirs, he says, “I love you too.”

Even after everything.

#komahina #komahina secret exchange #fanfiction