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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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How will nmy react to a memory loss jgy how think himself a nie scet member ?

There were murmurs around him when he first started waking up.

“– last few times – appears he thinks that –”

“– need to avoid any disturbances –”

“ - perhaps pretend -”

“Absolutely not.”

That last one was Sect Leader Nie.

His voice was loud and piercing as always, a general accustomed to needing to make himself heard over the din of battle and never quite having adjusted to situations where it wasn’t needed, and Meng Yao found himself relaxing a little bit just at the sheer familiarity of it. Nie Mingjue was as reliable as the sunrise: once you were one of his people, he’d defend you to the death.

If he was here, Meng Yao was safe.

He went back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, the room was empty but for Sect Leader Nie, who was sitting at the desk doing paperwork. Probably paperwork that Meng Yao should be doing, but for the injury that must have led to all of this – he didn’t remember it at all, but short-term amnesia was a common side effect of certain injuries, and his head was wrapped in bandages.

Still, he struggled to sit up. “Sect Leader Nie,” he called, and Sect Leader Nie’s shoulders tensed. “If you want my help –”

“You should be resting,” Sect Leader Nie said. He was staring at the wall in front of him instead of turning back to look at Meng Yao – a sign of guilt? Had he been involved in what happened? “Do not trouble yourself.”

“And let you mess up my filing system?” Meng Yao teased lightly, hoping to lighten the mood. “Don’t forget how long it took me to fix the accounts the way I like it –”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Meng Yao paused, then, abruptly concerned: Sect Leader Nie’s shoulders were curved inwards, as if expecting a blow – afraid of pain. Afraid of him?

Impossible.

And yet, at the same time – unmistakable.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” he asked, keeping his voice level. He always kept his voice level, no matter the circumstances; someone certainly had to, and it wasn’t going to be anyone surnamed Nie. “Are you expelling me from your service?”

It was a joke, of course. Nie Mingjue liked him, respected him, valued him – had made it clear a thousand ways that he would never listen to gossip or to slander, would never judge him by who his mother was, and Meng Yao couldn’t imagine what sort of dire mistake would be necessary to make Nie Mingjue refuse to stand by him, even against the world.

“You’re the one who will leave,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice cutting, but then the anger flowed out of his shoulders and he sighed, closing his eyes, as if he had mistakenly become angry over the wrong thing. “It is not that I didn’t know that your ambitions had always been with Lanling, not Qinghe.”

Bile and panic rose up Meng Yao’s throat, but what could he say?

It was true. He had come to Qinghe because he had heard that they respected talent there, regardless of birth; he had come because he had needed a place to rise to prominence, where he could become so respectable that even his father would be unable to ignore him.

Qinghe had always been a waystation, not a destination.

Or, if one wanted to look at it with less kindness – he had treated it as a stepping-stone.

Had Nie Mingjue discovered how Meng Yao had schemed to get his attention, his sympathy? The little tricks he’d played to get him to agree to take a chance on an unknown, all the ways he’d wormed his way into the man’s life so that it would be impossible to extract him without damage? Or was it something more recent, something hidden away in his lost memories – had his father asked him to betray some confidence of Nie Mingjue’s? Turn over some information, take some secret action…had he done it?

Was that why Nie Mingjue didn’t want to look at him?

“Sect Leader Nie…”

“I’m not supposed to talk to you about it,” Nie Mingjue said bluntly. “The doctors told me to play along, pretend not to…I told them trying to hide it from you was pointless, that you were too smart, that you’d figure it out – I assume you have by now?”

“I’ve lost my memory,” Meng Yao said. He was shivering, and it wasn’t cold. “I woke up and the doctors realized that I’d forgotten a great deal, so they wanted you not to cause me any disturbance…how much time have I lost?”

“The war is over,” Nie Mingjue said, and surely that should be cause for celebration? But Nie Mingjue’s voice was flat and neutral, as if some terrible thing had happened, and his fists were clenched in rage. “You have been recognized by the Jin sect, and now live in Lanling. I cannot speak to the quality of your life, or to your happiness, but you have at least achieved that much.”

It was not that Meng Yao thought he’d be happy in Lanling – it was that he hadn’t thought he’d be happy anywhere, and found to his surprise that Qinghe actually did make him happy. It wasn’t supposed to, nothing was supposed to; it was all supposed to be part of the plan, that was all, a means to an end.

He wasn’t supposed to become fond of Sect Leader Nie, who tried so hard and listened so earnestly; he wasn’t supposed to be friends with Nie Huaisang, a charming waste of space who ought to have been born as a roly-poly kitten instead.

He was supposed to be in Lanling, by his father’s side, and now it appeared he was – and yet the injury he suffered had driven his memories back to his time at Qinghe.

That said something, he thought.

He’d had head injuries before, memory issues, dating back to his childhood; his mother had hired a doctor for him over it, a real one and not some faker, and he’d explained that when injured, Meng Yao’s extraordinary mind would retreat to the place it felt safest, recreating the past out of all those perfectly preserved memories and sinking into it as if it were real. If this injury followed the pattern of the others, there was no need for any treatment beyond time – soon enough, he would start to remember, and reality would gradually reassert itself over fantasy.

In the past, no matter what, his memory would always return to those few months when he was eight years old, when his mother had met a possessive benefactor and they had lived free and easy under his care – it had ended horribly, of course, but at the time he didn’t know that.

This time, his memory had returned to his days in Qinghe.

And Nie Mingjue still wouldn’t look at him.

“What did I do?” he asked.

“You assume that you’ve done something?”

“You don’t want to look at me,” Meng Yao said. A moment of silence, with Nie Mingjue not giving in, stiff and quiet, so he added, quietly, “I warned you in the beginning that I was unworthy of the trust you placed in me.”

In the end, Nie Mingjue turned to look at him. He seemed tired, and his eyes were bloodshot in a way that did not speak well of his health.

“Tell me what I did,” Meng Yao said. “I want to know.”

Nie Mingjue exhaled. “You killed a captain,” he said dully. “Premeditated murder, and you excused it by saying that he had stolen your glory and bullied you; even if it was true, you never once said a word of it to me before, never sought some other means to resolve it. You then defected to the Wen sect, becoming a master torturer and Wen Ruohan’s right hand; you killed my men, tortured me, and then killed him to become a war hero. After that, you were accepted into the Jin sect, and Lan Xichen and I swore brotherhood with you.”

He paused, then, but that was not the end, or else he would not be so angry.

Meng Yao waited, his mind dancing over all the excuses, all the things he could say, belated justifications, things that would cast him in a good light, a better light – what Nie Mingjue had described was obviously a problem, but not an insoluble one, and his future self should have known that. He could still fix this.

But to fix it, he needed to know the full extent of his crimes first.

“My qi became disordered after the war,” Nie Mingjue finally said, continuing. “Lan Xichen proposed a treatment: a Lan melody known as the Song of Clarity. But he is busy, so you took on the responsibility of playing for me…”

No, Meng Yao thought. No.

But at once he knew where the story led, even before the telling of it was done. A story that started with premeditated murder, however his future self had justified it to himself, could only end with the same –

Why would he do something like that? Perhaps because Nie Mingjue turned away from him after the first murder, as he ought to have known he would – Nie Mingjue tried so hard, and thought everyone else did, too; the glimpse at what Meng Yao was really like, the creature of spite and bitterness and hatred, willing to kill the filthy way, hidden in the dark…it would have come as a shock to him.

And yet his former self had obviously salvaged it, somehow; Nie Mingjue had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, to make up with him, to treat him as an equal, and still he –

Surely no prize could be worth this.

“Do you know why I did it?” he asked quietly, staring down at his own clenched fists, hating iron for not being steel. His damaged mind was telling him that what he had had in Qinghe was dearer to him than his own mother, and he had nearly destroyed it with his own two hands.

“The Nie sect and the Jin sect are at a crossroads,” Nie Mingjue said, and at last, at last Meng Yao recognized the flatness of his tone and the lack of visible signs of fury as the signs of medicine, the sluggish pain relief that could help stymie an incipient qi deviation. The poisonous song he played must have come very near to working. “Jin Guangshan wants the title of Chief Cultivator; I think there should be none. Jin Guangshan protects Xue Yang even after he murdered an entire clan; I think he deserves to die – I asked you for his head, and you promised it to me…you never intended to deliver. There can be only one sect ascendant, and you are, as much as he hates it, your father’s heir.”

His heir. Had he done something to Jin Zixuan, then? Unsatisfied with only the name he had promised himself he would obtain, had he coveted the power, too, and sought to achieve it by any means possible?

If he had reached the point of being willing to murder Nie Mingjue, then surely he had done that, too.

“I bashed your head in,” Nie Mingjue said conversationally. “During the deviation that you provoked. Lan Xichen stopped me from actually killing you, and from dying myself, and then you awoke without any memory of what you’d done, calling yourself Meng Yao again as if you were still – as if you still –”

Someone had asked Nie Mingjue to come in here and pretend, Meng Yao realized, and with a start realized also that he was furious about it. Someone had told him to come in here and play pretend with his would-be murderer as if they were still friends.

It might even have been Lan Xichen who’d done it.

There were tears on Nie Mingjue’s cheeks. He did not wipe them away the way Nie Huaisang would have, trying to hide his pain; he only let them fall, his eyes sliding shut once more – he could not look at Meng Yao, and Meng Yao couldn’t blame him.

“I wish I could go back,” he said, and Nie Mingjue opened his eyes to look at him. “Before I made those decisions. I wish I was still Meng Yao, and could do things differently. Is it too late for that?”

With anyone else, he would know the answer already. With anyone else, he wouldn’t have asked.

With anyone else, his mind would still be back in those wonderful days of being eight and alone with his mother for the very first time and last time.

“How can I ever trust you again?” Nie Mingjue asked, shaking his head in denial. “You drove me into a qi deviation – you wanted to kill me, knowing it would leave Huaisang the position of sect leader, knowing how cruel a death it was –”

“Is it too late?”

This was not something that could be repaired easily, with words and a gentle smile. This would take action and sacrifice. But before he committed himself, he had to know if it were even possible.

If Nie Mingjue could still forgive him, even now –

If he was still one of Nie Mingjue’s people, to be defended until death.

Nie Mingjue abruptly stood up, unsteady on his feet, clearly still ill – if I am half the murderer that I appear to be in his stories, I will kill those doctors who prioritized my health, this farce, over his, and if Lan Xichen was involved I will make it clear to him what wrong he has done – and shook his head, but this time it was not a denial.

“I never know what to do with you,” he said, and it was not a no.

It was not a no.

Jin Guangyao smiled.

(At the trial, which happened eventually, Nie Mingjue spoke in his favor, and his would-be murderer was remanded into the custody of Qinghe for whatever punishment they saw fit. It didn’t last long, but it was an excellent alibi for his father’s untimely death, even though it did not solve all the questions that lingered in Nie Mingjue’s eyes. But that, too, was not an insoluble problem.)

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

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euphoriacentral · 3 years

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THE PLAYLIST: “The gist is this: Rue wants to die. Ali hopes to convince her to stay alive. There are few dramatic premises heavier than this. And yet writer-director Levinson, aided hugely by his performers and cinematographer Marcell Rév, extracts a painfully human exchange without lapsing into melodramatics. Ali, who receives a welcome helping of character development, refuses to treat Rue with kid gloves – yet Domingo plays this role with an underpinning of warmth, ably challenging the stormy Rue. As Rue, Zendaya is essentially here to remind everyone why she won her Emmy. She expertly balances emotion and stoicism, wearing this character like a second skin.

There is minimal plot here, an almost whiplash-inducing change from the regular series, where high-stakes drama constantly crescendos. But this is a perfect departure, a welcome pause in the shimmering chaos. “Trouble Don’t Last Always” is uniquely suited to this moment, as the world finds itself at a standstill, paralytically powerless over disease and mortality. So many of us don’t know where we will spend our holidays, or who will still be here to spend them with us next year. So we sit, unbearably human. And though we may be separated from Ali and Rue by fiction and celluloid and screens, for an hour, it feels as though we are just one booth across, eavesdroppers on a conversation between two vulnerable, beautiful, sick people.” THE INDEPENDENT: “Domingo gives an all-star performance as a tough-love sponsor, but it is Zendaya who remains the show’s linchpin. She appears as she does in series one: a cynical waif with legs scrunched up, knees under her chin, and a hoodie pulled over her head. The 24-year-old gives a magnetic performance; she makes even the most cliched lines, such as “I just don’t plan on being here that long”, somehow stick. When Ali asks Rue how she wants to be remembered by her mum and sister, the next minute of acting is a reminder of why this year Zendaya became the youngest person to win an Emmy for best lead in a drama series. The episode closes on an extended shot of Ali and Rue driving; Bocelli’s “Ave Maria” thunders in the background. It is undoubtedly a diversion from the usual relentless sex and drugs of Euphoria, but this episode hints at a more thoughtful second series to come.” INDIEWIRE: “Rue and Ali wade through self-pity, self-blame, self-hatred, and plenty more difficult topics, and it’s a credit to writer-director Sam Levinson that the conversation progresses with substance .But Zendaya and Domingo get all the credit for making it watchable. From Domingo’s voice built on crackling embers to Zendaya’s elastic jawline, the two thespians give and take with a natural grace. Without going too big or dialing it down too far, the duo entrenches themselves in the reality of the moment in a way that “Euphoria” rarely did so sparsely until now. Clearly, shooting under pandemic guidelines resulted in some creative changes, but the episode still feels like a sturdy bridge spanning a wild first season and the studied sophomore effort coming next. Its calmness and maturity is welcome, after so many episodes that built up to a big, shocking reveal.” ROLLINGSTONE: “Verbally, the whole thing is much more a showcase for Domingo than Zendaya, as Rue mostly just listens to her sponsor’s lectures and deflects his questions. But then, her line readings throughout Season One — particularly for the show’s usual narration (another stylistic flourish that’s absent here) — were often underplayed and lacking affect, the better to contrast with the high drama all around Rue, and to illustrate how numb she has become to the horrors of this life. Her face almost always says more than her voice, and that’s true again here.

At one point, Rue quietly admits that she doesn’t see the point in self-improvement, because “I just don’t plan on being here that long.” It pains Ali to hear her speaking so openly about wanting to die, but rather than trying to talk her out of it, he simply asks how she would want her mother and sister to remember her after she’s gone. The camera stays on Zendaya’s face the whole time as the weight of her pain, and her understanding of how she in turn is going to hurt her loved ones, fully takes hold. As the tears begin to flow, she says she’d like them to remember her “as someone who tried really hard to be someone I couldn’t.” It’s a devastating admission, made all the more so because of how simple and unvarnished the presentation is. Obviously, this structure isn’t something Euphoria can deploy in every episode, or even in many of them. There’s a huge cast of characters with stories to service each week, and the series’ hyperactive style is a fundamental part of its DNA. And going the full My Dinner with Andre is much harder than it looks, requiring actors like these two who can be so compelling while so little is happening. But with Zendaya and Domingo, in these extraordinary circumstances, it not only works beautifully, but suggests that, at minimum, Levinson can perhaps take his foot off the gas a bit more often whenever Season Two begins filming.” THE GUARDIAN: “As Rue, broken by what she sees as Jules’ betrayal, Zendaya continues to demonstrate exactly why she so deserved the best actress Emmy she won in September; as the older, wiser Ali, Colman Domingo is simply extraordinary. These needed to be good performances. Although this looks stylish, wearing its Nighthawks inspiration plainly and dwelling on blurry neon lights through glass, all Edward Hopper via a Lana Del Rey filter, it is essentially a conversation about addiction that has to sustain our attention for an hour. When Euphoria is at its best, it is deeply empathic. I did not buy the criticism that it glorified drug-taking; I thought it showed how horrendous adolescence can be, particularly in the digital age, and that nobody could truthfully watch this show and want to emulate any of the behaviour in it. This episode, given space and time to breathe, is a frank discussion about how destructive and damaging addiction can be, all wrapped up in a smart and sympathetic plea for compassion for addicts. Ali and Rue talk about their personal low points. For Ali, this is a story about how many last chances a person can burn through. Rue, devoid of hope, is forced to confront the idea that there may be a little hope left in her yet. It is a touch too long and some of the dialogue is eye-wateringly Euphoria – “For some people, there is no rock bottom, it’s bottomless” – but, for the most part, I was lost in its world and captivated by the back-and-forth, which is frequently as funny as it is grim. Ultimately, its message is one of forgiveness, of others and of oneself, of empathy and understanding. It quietly calls for good will to all men, even whip-smart, heartbroken, navel-gazing teenagers. Perhaps it is not so unfestive, after all.” THE DAILY BEAST: “The writing is strong but demanding—equal parts wrenching and humorous, and full of the kind of earnestness that can sound downright comical coming from the wrong performer. But both Colman Domingo and Zendaya, fresh off her Emmy win this year, are more than up to the task. It feels fitting that Ali chooses poetry as his metaphor for a higher power. In a way, this belief feels like the heart of Euphoria—a series that, like poetry, focuses on meticulous aesthetics and (visual) metaphor to drive home truths that can at times elude plain language.” ROGER EBERT: “Spiralling through a brilliantly written conversation about addiction, revolution, and depression, this is one of the best hours of TV in 2020—an incredibly moving piece that hints at the limitless potential of “Euphoria”’s future. The conversation between Ali and Rue circles her addiction from multiple angles without feeling overly scripted. It’s like a great stage play, and it allows the two performers to really shine. Domingo is an incredible character actor who imbues Ali with just the right amount of earned wisdom and realistic skepticism.

And then there’s Zendaya. She was excellent in season one, but she digs even deeper here than in that Emmy-winning performance. She has a few beats near the end of the episode that are breathtaking, not only in the decisions she makes but in how much room Levinson gives her to feel her way through her own emotions. Rue is angry and demonstrative in parts of this conversation, but she’s mostly listening, thinking, and feeling. It’s more about what she doesn’t say to Ali than what she does. The emotions that she allows to wash over her face and then pull back before approaching melodrama make for such a finely-tuned piece of work.”

#euphoria #euphoria hbo #special episodes #reviews #sam levinson #zendaya #colman domingo

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svtkillua · 4 years

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little lion man > 2

rating: [pg-13 / angst] pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader x todoroki shouto warnings: cursing, lots of yummy angst >:)) word count: 11.3k listen while you read here!

join the discord!

ch.1 + ch.2 + ch.3 + ch.4 (final) + alt. ending

A broken heart was a nuisance, an annoying leech that sucked the life out of you every moment you paused to think about the pain it was spreading through your limbs. Every second you spent with your mind not occupied you wanted to scream and cry. It felt like your emotions were burning embers and anytime you paused to give it oxygen the fire would grow and consume you til you were nothing but ashes.

You had been on a roller coaster for a week straight, you had highs and lows and every dip and turn was filled with Bakugou. He was in your favorite songs and covering your walls. He was in your brain and in your vision and filled your senses down to your atoms that made you alive. Sometimes you felt angry, sometimes you felt happy, but mostly you felt so incredibly sad.

You’d managed to, mostly, get Bakugou off your case after repeatedly insisting you’d just been surprised and upset at the possibility of losing him. It wasn’t technically a lie, you were definitely surprised when he’d announced his plans to get engaged. To say you hadn’t seen it coming would have been an understatement. You conveniently left out that your heart had been crushed and that you’d never suffered a pain more severe in your entire life thus far. It had felt like you got hit head on by a speeding train that you’d been too slow to dodge.

Now was the hard part; to continue to act like you were okay, like you couldn’t wait to watch him get married and see them began their happily ever after. You were pinning your emotions to the back of your mind and tying them down with a neat little bow because you needed to. You would be the best friend Bakugou deserved and yearned for right now, even if it made you feel like your insides were rotting.

All of it was frustrating. It was frustrating he didn’t love you but you so unwaveringly loved him. It was frustrating he could so easily tell when something was wrong with you and made it so much harder for you to lie. It was frustrating that every moment alone felt like torture because all you could think of was him with her and there was nothing to distract you. He had been your distraction when you’d been hurt before, and now he was unknowingly the cause and couldn’t be the cure.

Maybe you’d just feel this sad, heartbroken and lonely forever. Maybe you’d always be stupidly in love with someone whose heart was taken. Maybe you were foolish for thinking you could’ve had a chance if you tried harder. Maybe you’d be alone and in love til the day you died with someone you’d never have and would never want you. Maybe that was your fate in life, to have a permanent fake smile and empty feeling in your chest.

It was all affecting you more than you could let on, though you were mostly convincing, sometimes even to yourself. It was like your brain had turned to stone and got chipped to pieces too small to make coherent thoughts other than how awful you felt at times. You just needed to ignore the gnawing in your chest that had been so consistent lately it was becoming a part of you. Then you would be fine, you had to be.

For Bakugou.

He was obviously worried about you, even after the long phone call and a few days passing. He’d been calling more frequently and every time his voice would waver on the edge of concern when your tone wasn’t quite right. Whether or not he trusted what you had told him didn’t matter, because you could hear the worry lacing his tone when he’d repeatedly asked if you were okay. It only solidified your decision to put your feelings aside and focus on him, because you loved him too much to egg on the anxiety you were causing him. Besides, there was no reason for the both of you to be living a pained existence.

Convincing yourself that locking your feelings behind a perfect smile would be easy had been step one, though in the far parts of your mind you knew it wouldn’t ever work. Now, you just had to actually put that thought into action and try to be there for him. Perhaps the self sacrifice would persuade the universe to give you a break.

The wind whipped at your cheeks as your eyes squinted into the cool air blowing your hair away from your face. Your feet made soft clapping sounds against the pavement as you took a quick peek towards Bakugou’s building, the large inconspicuous residence you hadn’t been to in months. Perhaps it felt more intimidating because you’d be alone with Bakugou for the first time in a long time. The thought made your abdomen twist uncomfortably, the wind shifting directions, your jacket flitting open.

The sky was a pale blue and dotted with soft looking white clouds, the streets slow but bustling as workers fled their jobs for lunch. The day wasn’t nearly as ominous looking as your last time seeing Bakugou had been, but your mind still felt restless as the front door came into view. Your fingers were wrapping around your phone before you could dwell on it, plucking it from your coat pocket, fingers to drumming across the glass.

To; Bakugou [ 15:04 ]:

I’m here come let me in it’s cold!

Coming over for a late lunch had been Bakugou’s idea after you’d been seemingly sticking to phone calls rather than visits in person when he had free time. He’d been complaining about it and you could only tell the boy no so many times before he’d multiply his suspicions and assume the worst. He opened the door after a few minutes, a breathtaking grin on his face as he promptly reached out and tugged you inside.

You were met with a gush of warmth as the door closed behind you, a content sigh slipping out as you hung up your coat and slid your phone into your back pocket for safekeeping. He flashed a relaxed smile as you slipped your shoes off, his body pulling yours in for a hug the moment you stood upright. You tensed for a second when his body molded into yours, but took a shaky breathe to relax, slithering your own arms around his waist.

“Missed you.” He hummed mutely and slowly slid his arms off of you, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as he looked down at you. His hands moved to your shoulders as he held you at an arm’s length, eyes examining your entirety.

“We talked on the phone yesterday, Katsu.” You quietly laughed and patted his chest with your palms out flat, dipping your body away from him as you moved further into his home. Something about being here had always made you feel content. Maybe it was because it smelled like he did when you’d hug him so tight he’d burn into your senses.

Your eyes flickered around the living room you hadn’t seen in so long, landing on picture frame after picture frame filled with photos of him and Camie. Sure, there were some mixed in of yourself, his family and the boys, but you could tell without counting that most of the new items in the room were featuring her. From the baby pink teddy bear sitting on a desk in the corner, to the several photos of the two of them dotting the white walls, her presence was made known.

Hatred wasn’t something you felt for her but jealousy without a doubt was. It wasn’t that you disliked yourself, you just had an ever expanding nagging in your brain reminding you of all the things she had you lacked. She was smart and graceful and kind and oh so beautiful, according to Bakugou. She had gotten his affections just by being herself and you were resentful that you being you apparently wasn’t enough to do the same. Not for him, at least.

He cared about her and that was so immensely obvious just by having seen the two of them interacting. It made your confidence deflate. All the things you so badly wanted to do with Bakugou, she would get. The memory of her kissing his lips and holding his hand replayed in your head like a sick movie designed to make you ill and you had to take a deep breathe to try to push that sickness away.

You followed Bakugou’s retreating back towards his kitchen, away from the taunting photos, where he’d set up a small lunch for the pair of you. A small smile spread on your lips as you sat, eyes watching him move around his kitchen to get you both drinks. You could see his lips moving but his words weren’t registering in your conscience, though he seemed to be talking about what he ordered you for lunch. All you could focus on was how relaxed he looked there in the kitchen with you, chuckling to himself about how much food he’d bought.

Little moments like this had been what made it so simple to develop feelings for him. He just seemed so close to you in those minutes when he was the most himself he could be, just talking about his day and moving without thinking. When you were alone like this he wasn’t Bakugou Katsuki the hero, he was Bakugou Katsuki, your idiot of a best friend who loved to make you smile.

Had you really been that stupid for thinking that maybe, somewhere, in the deepest parts of his heart, he had been falling in love with you too? Had it been stupid to think that these moments alone had felt just a right as they had to you? How was it possible for you to have been developing such different feelings every single second of your time together? You had only ever been watching him when he had never really glanced at you, not in the way you yearned for.

“Here we go.” Bakugou sighed, finally settling into his seat, placing a mug of your favorite tea in front of you before he sipped some of his own. You noticed he was using the mug you’d sent him a couple months ago while he was on tour, shifting your eyes to his face as you picked up your utensils.

“Thanks, Katsu.” You smiled a small but genuine smile as you took a bite, your smile spreading as you took another, much bigger one. Bakugou’s light laughter made heat rush along your face as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Shut up, I haven’t eaten all day.” You defended halfheartedly, taking another bite before snapping your chopsticks towards his face, which only made him laugh a bit harder, his head shaking from side to side.

“You just look cute with your cheeks all puffed out like that. Like a chipmunk or something.” He commented, using his finger tip to poke one of your food filled cheeks, making your eyes roll.

The two of you fell into your easy rhythm so quickly and it felt like for just a few minutes you didn’t have to keep your guard up. You didn’t need to pretend you were happy because simply being with Bakugou made you so much happier than you wanted to admit. You wanted so badly to hate him for making you feel this way, but you just couldn’t seem to.

You were both sipping your tea, plates mostly empty, a huge amount of leftovers on the counter. The kitchen silent besides the quiet ticking of the clock on the far wall behind you, as it had been for a few moments since your conversation died out. His eyes had averted from yours when the silence fell, your own taking advantage of the beat in conversation, trailing over the lines of his jaw and neck. You watched as his muscles moved when he swallowed and let out a small huff of air, it sounding a little strained.

His fingertip was dragging lazily along the rim of the mug he had set down, a drip of the brown liquid rolling down the side of the cup and pooling onto the table below it. Your knee bounced under the table as he took a slow inhale before he spoke, the anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

“Were you mad at me? The other night, I mean? Were you mad?” His eyes were avoiding yours as the words slipped out, perhaps because he knew this was the tenth time he’d asked you the past week if he’d done something wrong. To you, he had done something hugely wrong by loving Camie instead of you, but you couldn’t exactly tell him that without telling him everything, and that was a conversation you definitely weren’t having right that moment.

“Why would I have been mad at you Katsu?” You took a second to compose yourself before you spoke, not wanting to give yourself away or say something you shouldn’t. You knew if you kept avoiding this conversation he’d eventually grow agitated but you also had to tread carefully or he’d start figuring things out.

You lifted your cup up to your lips, which puckered to blow some of the steam away before you took a drink. His eyes shifted over to your, moving from your hands, to the mug, then up to your eyes, his own masked slightly by his lashes and messy, spiky pieces of hair. He ran his fingers through it to push it aside.

“I don’t know, I just… I just feel like something changed, like we changed. I don’t want you to think that just because I’ll be married to Camie that we’re going to be any different. I wouldn’t ever let that happen to us.” His bottom lip tucked up under his teeth as he scrunched his face up some. His ruby eyes squinted closed as his lip slowly slipped out from under his teeth, lips pursing as he debated his words. “I know that everything seems really sudden, we’ve only really been together a year. I shouldn’t have expected you to be ecstatic when you barely know her.”

His voice was quiet but felt so loud in the space surrounding you, the air reverberating with the sounds. Everything had changed when he told you, you changed and you knew he could see the shift. The way he’d hugged you when he left made it obvious he knew you weren’t okay even if he appeared to be telling himself you were. You couldn’t have been sure why, maybe it was because Kaminari had walked in on your conversation, or perhaps it was because Camie had been there.

“She’s just so incredible, she’s so special to me. I don’t even know how I got lucky enough to get her. The idea of losing Camie now…” He trailed off his little rant, eyes moving away from yours and down towards his cup, staring at his spoon as he swirled it around. His head shook slightly as he tilted his head upwards so his eyes were on you again.

You were sure you loved him more than Camie never would. How was it possible for him to not see that you meant so much more to him than a friend? How could he for a second think that no one who love him again when you always had?

“I just, I can’t lose you, either of you. I need her but I need you too, so badly.” Bakugou’s gentle tone felt like he was trying to calm you down, like he didn’t want to awaken the sadness in your heart he wasn’t sure was there inside you. “No matter what happens with me and her I’m always going to care about you and need you, here, with me.”

Was it possible to be dumped by someone you were never dating? You felt like he was giving you the talk when all you’d ever done was daydream from a safe distance about what it would be like to be his. Why did he feel the need to explain how much he needed her when you didn’t need convincing that he was in love with her? You thought you were the only one not acting like yourself, but seeing Bakugou’s eyes now darting between yours made you question that.

“Katsu, I know you love her, I know you need her. Relax. You know you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” It was the truth, Bakugou never needed to explain himself to you, and right now you didn’t particularly want him to. You could only listen to him fawn over her so much before you’d start feeling like you were being suffocated. “I just want you to be happy Bakugou, no matter what.”

He stayed still for a moment, his fingers having grown motionless against the cup as he focused in on you. He was scrutinizing you, trying to read your thoughts and find out your very secrets you were struggling to hide. You’d thought you’d been convincing but perhaps you weren’t as good of an actress as you had thought.

The obnoxious ringing from his phone got the attention of both of your gazes, his screen lighting up and flashing with Camie’s name. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, standing up with your dirty cup and heading towards the kitchen sink as he cleared his throat behind you before answering.

“Hey…Yeah, sorry we were eating lunch.” You could hear bits of his conversation as you turned the water on and rinsed your cup out, glancing at him over your shoulder as he retreated from the room, phone pressed to his ear as his voice caught your ears again. “No, it’s just me and her.”

A quiet sigh left your lips once he was out of your line of vision and you tilted your head downwards, damp hands gripping the countertop. You could feel yourself getting worked up as you repeated him talking about her in your head.

In the movies and books they always made it seem like getting your heart broken was one quick moment, but it wasn’t. It was so slow. It was all consuming and would build and build until you finally couldn’t take it anymore. It would kick at your chest and turn your skin deep purple and blue. It would throw hammers at your ribs and rip apart the bones before yanking out your heart. It would squeeze it tightly and cut off the blood flow and make that pain grow and grow til it was all too much.

It was breaking you, the only question was what would be the final push to ruin you. How many more words of his love for her could you take? You were barely making it as it was, your eyes were lined in dark circles makeup couldn’t quite cover up, your body sluggish and mind in a fog. You could only ignore the silent pain for so long before you were going to lose it, despite how hard you were trying to make it okay.

You placed the cup in the dish rack before padding your way through the house, looking for Bakugou, spotting his back in the crack of his bedroom door. Judging by the sound of his muffled voice he appeared to still be on the phone, his messy hair moving slightly as he shook his bit of head you could see.

“…just haven’t been alone for a while, that’s all. You know I wanna see you, too.” Was all you picked up as you walked past, going into his makeshift study. It was a small room with a desk, some bookshelves and a little keyboard in the corner. You shut the door behind you as you sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. You dropped down into the chair at his desk, using your foot to kick off the ground and give it a light spin.

The room was hushed besides the sound of the world outside coming through the barely cracked open window, the curtains fluttering in the breeze coming through. His space was littered with crumpled up papers and stacks of books and magazines so high you were surprised they hadn’t toppled onto the ground yet.

You sighed quietly as you slid your phone from your pocket, hair falling into your face like a curtain you were too lazy to move. You hummed to yourself as you noticed you had a text waiting from Todoroki and opened it with a tap of your finger, eyes flickering over the words.

Todoroki [ 15:44 ] :

Do you want to come over and watch a movie later? I got that new mystery thriller you wanted to see.

Your fingers drummed over the letters as you sent a quick response back, before setting your phone back into your pocket.

To; Todoroki [ 16:02 ] :

Sorry, was eating lunch with Katsu. That sounds great, I’ll text you once I’m home.

Your fingertip slid along the edge of the desk as you rocked side to side in the chair, eyes trailing along behind it before you paused, noticing his top desk drawer was ajar. Curiosity got the best of you as you slowly gripped the edge, giving it a gentle tug open. It was mostly junk, scrap papers and little notes tossed inside to be reread later. You moved to shut it when it caught your eye; a small, black, velvet box tucked safely in the back corner.

The air felt thick as you halted your movements, unable to tear your eyes away from the unassuming object as your lips parted to let out a sharp breathe. You hesitated before picking it up, your mind going a mile a minute at the possibilities of what could be inside. You held the box delicately in the middle of your palm, as if it could snap and bite you if you touched it wrong. Your breathing felt too labored, chest too tight as you rested your fingers against the top. The sinking feeling in your chest making you gulp for air as you shifted your weight anxiously.

The room felt to silence as you pulled the lid open and your eyes were met with a beautiful diamond ring. It took your brain a second to catch up with what you were seeing, the panic spreading through your veins before you could register that the box had contained exactly what you dreaded. It sparkled when the light hit it as your hand shook and you felt like the universe was mocking you, laughing at how pathetic you’d become.

It was incredible how a stupid piece of jewellery could make your mood plummet. You’d let your guard down too much today with him, you’d forgotten the reality of what was going on outside of the little bubble you’d climbed inside. You’d been idiotic to think you could pretend your feelings into nothingness, foolish even for even giving that kinda thought an ounce of your time. Your fingers shook some so you squeezed your hand tighter around the black velvet, bottom lip beginning to tremble instead.

It definitely wasn’t anything to scoff at, a large teardrop shaped, crystal clear diamond in the center. It had two smaller pink gems on the sides of it, the entire band covered in rosy stones with delicate gold swirls protruding behind the teardrop shape. It screamed Camie. It was elegant and graceful and the pink tones reminded you of the color her cheeks turned when she blushed.

You felt like you could vomit, staring at the perfect stone and thinking of how much it seemed like her. She was just as perfect, just as elegant, just as graceful.

It was no wonder he loved her and not you.

The trepidation that crept up your spine made your entire body tense up, like you’d been shoved in a bath of ice water. Your nose scrunched as you tried to swallow, aware of your loud breathing, fingers snapping the lid shut before you could stare anymore. All you could picture was him slipping it onto her finger and the image made you want to run so far away. Seeing the ring in person only solidified the plans he’d told you, you just hadn’t imagined you’d be seeing it beginning to happen so fast.

The damn perfect ring represented so much more to you than just being a ring. It was everything you weren’t, everything Bakugou loved and cherished all wrapped around in gold and covered in diamonds. It was everything you’d never be and never have and everything you wanted so bad it was crushing you inside. How could you have been so naive to let yourself get here? How could you let your heart be swayed so easily by one boy to the point where he held your whole being in his palm and could toss it aside whenever he pleased? You were just a stupid girl with stupid feelings for a boy who didn’t seem to understand how he could, and was, affecting yours with every move he made towards her.

A single tear slipped down against the side of your nose, your curled up hand rubbing it away as you pushed the box back in place and slammed the drawer shut with your knee. Your hands shook as you walked over and sat idly on the small cushioned bench in front of his keyboard, fingers curling into your palms to make hard fists against your thighs. A shaky breathe fell out as you squeezed your eyes closed, now thankful for the curtain of hair shutting the room around you out.

Your head lifted up towards the ceiling, eyes opening back up as another tear slid out of the corner, spilling along your temple and skimming the shell of your ear, your hand raising to absentmindedly wipe it’s wet trail away. You felt like you weren’t in your body anymore, like your systems had all shut down and put you on low power mode. You were weak, too weak to really cry and too stubborn to address the agony in your bones that was screaming for attention.

You turned your body towards the keyboard, back to the door as you stared down at the pristine white rectangles, mind blank. The keys were untouched while the actual body of the keyboard was littered with little notes and lyrics he’d apparently not wanted to forget. He had a little piece of music you’d given him to practice awhile ago set on the music stand, his messy handwriting all over it.

You wanted to leave. You needed to leave. You felt like you were drowning but no one could see you struggling. Like your lungs were filling with water and you couldn’t scream for help, only now the water was pain and sadness and you couldn’t scream for help because no one could know you were being killed. No one could know because he couldn’t know.

Your fingers slid over the keys before you really thought about it, barely using pressure to play a somber tune, trying to simultaneously fill the void of silence but also quiet down the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.The emotions you had bubbling just below the surface made your body slouch forwards, eyes run dry but feeling tired.

Why was it that the one you wanted was the one you couldn’t have? Why did you have to fall in love with someone like Bakugou? He had become your everything without even knowing it. He was the sun and the moon and all the stars in the universe and you were just an admirer who stared at it all from a telescope. You’d never even gotten close to capturing him but somehow in your mind you had thought you would.

The quiet melody you played blocked out the sound of Bakugou sighing as he came in the room, but the sound of the door closing caught your attention enough to make your fingers stop their movements. His body sunk onto the bench beside you, a heavy exhale coming from his lips as his hands ran over his face unceremoniously.

“I’m sorry that took so long. It was Camie, she said to tell you hello.” Bakugou spoke with a half convincing smile, his forehead leaning over and resting against your shoulder. You could tell he was put off now, but didn’t want to push it, your mind lingering to the box hidden in the desk as his body relaxed against your side.

You hated how effortlessly he could make your nerves multiply at this proximity, he was barely even touching you but he somehow seemed to have total control over your body. Half of you loved having him so close, loved feeling his lips press into your covered shoulder and hearing his breathing slow. The other half of you, however, dreaded having him like this as it only seemed to make the painful state of your heart more prevalent. You could feel his tense muscles relax against your side, his breathing slowly evening out to his normal pace.

“Teach me to play what you were playing.” He broke the few minutes of silence with his voice, nudging you with his elbow and straightening his back out. His eyes flickered over the keys before he turned his head to look at you, his hair falling further against his forehead. “I’m a good student, I promise.”

You stared at him for a moment before silently nodding, seeing the small smile tug on his lips before you let your fingers repeat the quiet tune, your free hand rested on your lap and tapping the beat into your thigh. You glanced over at him once you finished, nodding towards the piano to indicate he should try.

He nodded his own head, fingers reaching forward and starting to slip ungracefully between each note, hitting the keys a bit too hard to make the melody sound right. You let out an involuntary quiet laugh, making him pout and turn his upper half towards you as he spoke.

“Don’t laugh at me!” He grumbled like a little kid, even stomping his foot lightly to make it the full package. It was almost funny how quickly his mood had shifted from disgruntled and quiet to his usual playful, hotheaded state.

“I’m sorry.” You quipped, laughter quieting down as you shook your head at him and tried to calm your nerves, “You’re just hitting the keys too hard, it has to be more gentle, like this.”

You shifted towards the instrument again, biting down on your bottom lip as you let your fingers float through the melody. You were barely ghosting over the keys, just enough to make an audible sound. Your body moved with the notes, throat vibrating with hums as you let the sounds fill the room.

When you glanced over at him to see if he was paying attention, you noticed his eyes weren’t on the keys, or even your hands, but on your face. He hadn’t noticed you were looking at him, he was too in his head to realize he’d been caught staring. Something about the way his eyes were glued to you, with his lips parted and his breathing slow made your stomach tie into a knot.

You cleared your throat, reaching over and patting his knee with a sigh, which seemed to pull him from whatever was going on in that brain of his. You felt your mind going fuzzy as you shook your head at him.

“You’re a horrible student, you’re not even paying attention.” You scolded, narrowing your eyes at him as if you were mad. He just flashed you a sheepish smile and laughed quietly, bumping his shoulder lightly into yours as he muttered a small apology. For a moment you swore you saw a blush on creep onto his cheeks.

“I got it now.” He defended, hands once again resuming their place on the keys, moving too quickly and too aggressively through the tune, perhaps even worse than before. You rolled your eyes, adjusting your body so it was closer to his before letting your hand fall on top of his above the keys.

“Like this, Katsu..” You mumbled, fingers laying atop of each of his, his body stilling for a moment before beginning to move with your guidance. You tried not to focus on how soft his skin felt against your palm, not daring to look at his face as you swallowed thickly. “You see? Soft, it sounds better this way.”

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet, like speaking too loud would be alarming with how pressed together your bodies were. You finally let your face turn towards his again and instantly realized it was a mistake. You were way too close and at this distance you could see every single detail Bakugou Katsuki had.

His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as his eyes flitted across your face, his tongue poking out of his soft looking lips to wet them. You could see all the tiny details on his face, like the tiny scratch on his cheek from fighting with whoever and how his long eyelashes danced upon his cheeks. His thigh was pressing into yours and your hands were still overlapped though his was no longer moving, which stilled yours. Your nerves that had felt so fried the past few days were suddenly running on overdrive and your brain wasn’t moving well enough to process what was going on.

He let out a shaky breath as his eyes focused in on yours and held them in place, his free hand lifting up and pushing your hair back behind your ear as he spoke.

“Thank you.” His voice was soft, but sounded loud in the silent space around you, his calloused fingers lingering there by your cheek and not moving away. His fingertips dragged across your cheekbone, thumb grazing the corner of your lip just barely but the touch felt too intimate. Your heart was pounding so hard you could feel the blood pumping through your veins, making your fingertips feel like there were drums banging in them.

You couldn’t move, glued to the spot as his hand under yours turned, your palms flush as he slotted his fingers through yours, his other hand slipping away from your face, leaving what felt like burns behind. His eyes moved away from yours and instead to behind you, towards his desk. You were close enough to kiss him, just a tilt of your head and your lips could be on his. Your ribs felt bruised from how hard your heart was thumping into them.

Your eyes flickered over his face as his eyes remained glued to his desk and you silently wondered what he had said thank you for. Was it for, badly, trying to teach him to play the song, or something else? What had you done that was worthy of a thank you, and why was he holding your hand so tightly the longer he stared across the room? Why did he have to be so beautiful with the light flooding through the window casting a glow over his features? Why did it have to hurt so much to love him?

He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing across the face of your hand as his eyes finally moved to yours, a quiet sigh reaching your ears. He looked serious, his eyes definitive as he stared at you.

“Have you…have you ever thought ab-”

“Babe? Are you guys here?”

Camie’s voice cut off whatever Bakugou was going to say, his hand slipping from yours and his body springing away as if you’d scorched him. He was immediately standing up, eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you as the door to the room opened, Camie’s smiling face meeting the both of yours. You felt an odd sense of nerves course through you for a moment, like you’d almost been caught doing something secret and immoral.

“What are you doing here?” Bakugou asked, his hand raising to scratch the back of his neck. He cleared his throat to try and clear out the waver in his voice, his body moving him a step closer to her.

“I got done with my class early and thought I would bring you guys some dinner.” Camie smiled brightly, giving you a polite wave hello before moving over to wrap her arms around her boyfriend. Bakugou glanced over at you once quickly before he wrapped his arms around her small middle, lifting her off the ground slightly when he stood up with her in his grasp. Her playful gasp and loud squeal had his laughter floating out so easily.

Watching him shift all his focus to her felt crushing, like the moment she showed up you no longer existed. Every step he took towards Camie was a million more away from you. To think for a second there you’d been imaging he was going to kiss you. Were you really that delusional?

The way they so simply made each other happy made you wanna scream. Camie was busy chatting away about her class to Bakugou, his head nodding though judging by the look in his eyes you could tell he wasn’t listening. His eyes were following her lips as they moved, his hands grasping her hips so she didn’t drift too far from him, but his brain wasn’t digesting the words.

You’d been living in a fantasy for a moment and Camie walking in brought you back to reality. You couldn’t keep letting yourself do this, you couldn’t give into how badly you wanted to be with him because this was what always followed. It wasn’t just self sacrificing, it was self destructive.

You tore your eyes away from the pair of them as you slid your phone from your pocket, throat constricted as you quickly texted Todoroki.

To; Todoroki [ 16:47 ]:

Change of plans, would you be able to come get me from Bakugou’s please? I don’t want to walk home, it’s too cold out.

“Did you wanna stay and eat with us?’ Bakugou’s voice met your ears as he spoke to Camie, your eyes on their feet as they shuffled closer to each other. You silently wondered if they’d forgotten you were in a room, Camie had barely even acknowledged your presence the entire time she’d been here. Your phone buzzed with a response, making you glance at it.

Todoroki [ 16:48 ]:

On my way, I’ll be there in a few minutes.

Camie’s giggling made you gaze up again, her trademark blush spread across her cheeks as Bakugou lightly let his fingers tickle her sides, his smile a tad more relaxed than it had been a minute or two ago. You rose to your feet, which made Bakugou look in your direction once quickly, his grip on Camie loosening enough for her to turn her body towards yours.

“I should probably get going, actually.” You said with a forced smile, desperately wanting to get out of the room you were trapped in with the happy pair. Because the truth was you weren’t fine, you weren’t sure you’d ever be fine. You were a wreck and you were forcing things to seem okay because you were too scared to face what may happen if you admitted they weren’t.

Remembering that engagement ring was hidden in the desk beside you made your blood run cold. Your fingernails dug half moons into your palms, bottom lip trembling as the tears threatened to spill while you desperately tried to force them down, starting to move out of the room. How were you supposed to do this? How did anyone do this? Those romantic movies were such shit, no one would want to fall in love if they knew this was how it was going to feel.

You hadn’t known, and look where that got you.

“You don’t have to go.” Bakugou’s voice clicked in your mind as you exited the room, his footsteps trailing behind you as you made your way back towards the living room. The pictures of them on the walls now felt like they were there to mock you, to remind you that you weren’t wanted.

“We’d love to have you eat with us.” Camie insisted, appearing by Bakugou’s side as she slid her hand slowly into his, her sweet face twisted into a small frown as you slid your shoes back onto your feet. You hated how she answered for the both of them. Then again, Bakugou had invited her to join you both on behalf of the two of you. Maybe he just didn’t care if you wanted her there or not.

“It’s alright, you guys should have some alone time. Todoroki’s on his way already anyway.” You insisted, tugging on your jacket and noticing how Bakugou’s grip on her hand relaxed. Hers only tightened however, her body shuffling about as close to his as she could get without actually being against him. It made your body burn seeing how perfect they looked together, a vision of beauty and pain to your heart.

The room was mute for a moment as you got your jacket situated and buttoned up properly, fingers weaving through your hair and pushing it back off your face while Bakugou just stared. He pursed his lips slightly and then folded them in on themselves, making his mouth a straight, hard line. He looked dejected which you couldn’t quite understand. He had Camie here, he invited her to stay. Why would he be frustrated you were leaving? You knew he wanted you to like her but surely he didn’t expect you to be their constant third wheel.

Camie seemed to notice his quiet state and leaned up, kissing his cheek and frowning in concern as her free hand lifted up and cupped his chin, moving his face towards hers as she quietly asked if he was okay. The worry was clear on her features, her eyebrows furrowed as her thumb drew gentle circles on the curve of his cheek, his head barely nodding in response. You were beyond grateful to hear the knock on the door, turning your body and tugging it open without hesitation.

Todoroki stood with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a dark colored sweater on his top half making him look soft. He had been looking at his shoes, his head lifting up when you answered and a smile spreading on his famous lips.

“Hey.” He spoke, stepping forward to pull your body into his hard chest, arms holding you tight for a small hug, your eyelids fluttering shut and savoring the warmth of his sweater covered chest against your cheek. “You ready to go?”

You nodded and pulled away from him, turning to bid the couple a goodbye, Bakugou staring at you with that unreadable look on his face again. His eyes were on your back, then on Todoroki, his jaw clenched uncomfortably and his free hand balled up into a loose fist. You moved your body forward to his, his demeanor relaxing as he slid his arms around you.

His hug felt different than Todoroki’s, his was hard and made your body crush into his, his palms encasing your back like a shield and his breath fanning across your cheek as he leaned his head down. You were surprised when his lips puckered against your cheek considering Camie was beside him, but she didn’t seem to have much of a reaction other than an uncomfortable clearing of her throat.

“I’ll see you later, Katsu, thank you for lunch.” You said quietly, pulling from his tight grip and rubbing your hands along your forearms anxiously. He simply nodded but said nothing back as you turned away from him. You followed Todoroki out the door, taking a deep breath of the crisp air outside once the door clicked shut behind you. Your muscles were achy and sore as you moved towards the car, body exhausted from the few hours there with Bakugou.

You felt like you’d gone through every emotion, from happy to sad to confused and back again. Your ability to keep it together was becoming paper thin, your mind foggy and begging to just be silent for a few hours. The tiny rope holding you together was being plucked apart string by string and was ready to snap.

The only question was when.

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The taste of the expensive alcohol on your tongue was doing little to dull your senses in the crowded expensive restaurant. The private back room you occupied was lavish, with high ceilings and a dazzling chandelier that sparkled in the dim lighting. The air felt hot and the music was so inaudible it might as well have been turned off.

Your dress was too stuffy, your thighs sticking to the faux leather seat beneath you as you shifted and tugged the too thick material. You were uncomfortable here. Uncomfortable under the gleam of all the expensive things.

Uncomfortable in the stupid dress that made you feel like you were being choked. But most of all, uncomfortable being sat at the end of the table where you had a perfect view of Bakugou and Camie, side by side and feeding each other bites of their dinners.

You didn’t know how you’d been forced to come to Camie’s birthday dinner, Bakugou had insisted she wanted you to come and since most of the boys were coming you’d given in. You were sat between Kaminari and Kirishima. Midoriya, Sero, and Todoroki were across from you at the large wooden table. You hated being here. You hated being subjected to watching the happy couple kiss and hug all night long like some form of specific torture catered towards your secrets and insecurities.

It all felt too much, them so in love, the sound of her friends loud laughter and chatting, the way Kaminari kept catching you staring at Bakugou, the tight anxious feeling in your chest every time Bakugou took a second to glance your way, all of it. Your nerves were at max capacity, body nearly buzzing from the emotions bottled up inside you and all you wanted to do was go home.

You sighed quietly, taking another sip of your drink as you glanced over at Kirishima, who had let out a bored grumble, making you crack a tiny smile. The youngest boy looked like he’d rather be anywhere but there, his arms folded lazily over his broad chest and the corners of his lips just barely turned downwards as he spoke.

“I don’t like her.”

You nearly choked on the sip of your drink you’d just swallowed, Kaminari’s large hand clapping at your back to make sure you could breathe while Midoriya’s eyebrows narrowed across the table at Kirishima.

“That’s not polite, Kirishima.” He scolded, taking a small bite of the food in front of him. Kirishima scoffed quietly as he sat up properly and picked up his own drink, speaking as he lifted it up to his lips.

“Don’t you think this is all a bit much for a birthday party?”

You bit down on your bottom lip as you set your glass down, eyes skimming over the other boys as they remained tight lipped, though Kaminari was bouncing his leg beside yours. Your last birthday you’d spent watching movies and eating pizza with Sero, Kirishima and Tokoyami while Todoroki baked you a cake and Bakugou insisted he did all the decorating. You’d just assumed this was going to be a small dinner, not this lavish affair it seemed to have become, her friends all in expensive looking outfits and the prices on the menu you’d seen astronomical. You could understand Kirishima’s distaste for location choice, it wouldn’t have been your first choice either.

“She’s been all over him all night like she’s trying to show him off.” Kirishima added and set his glass down after taking a swig, his hand overlapping as he folded them neatly in front of his body at the table. “So I don’t like her, period. I don’t really care if that’s rude.”

You took a glance down towards the other end of the table as Midoriya started lecturing Kirishima, muting out their conversation and letting your eyes wander over Bakugou as he took a bite of his food. Camie was chatting away with her friends beside him, his tongue poking out to lick his lips off as his eyes glanced over at her. His arm moved slightly from its grip around the back of her chair, instead wrapping around her shoulders. A smile tugged on her lips that made jealousy rage in the pit of your stomach from the simple gesture. It killed you to know you’d never have that with him, as much as you were trying to pretend it wasn’t hurting you.

You were scared of what would happen when you let the floodgates open. How were you ever going to move on if you let yourself feel just how deeply those emotions for Bakugou ran? You had been rooted to the same spot for so long hoping that maybe, just maybe, the impossible would happen, but deep in the back of your mind you knew that time was never going to come. That was becoming more obvious with each passing day.

When Bakugou’s eyes flickered towards your end of the table, he paused for a moment, gaze catching yours and you held it, swallowing down the lump that threatened to grow in your throat. He stared at you hard, his expression not changing and his eyes too hard to read from so far away, though you doubted there was any meaning behind them. He’d been distant the past few days, like you’d hurt him and he was pulling away and while it stung, part of you had been thankful for the time to try and put yourself together.

But you missed him, gosh did you miss him. You missed him every second you weren’t with him, even when being with him was murdering your mental state. It was like he was a drug and you were an addict waiting for their next fix. Only with Bakugou, coming down from the high felt more like plummeting off a cliff and landing right on your back, all the air being thrown out of your body along with any signs of happiness.

When Camie turned towards him and spoke something into his ear, his eyes moved away, a smile on his lips as he responded to whatever they were talking about. You pulled your own eyes away, feeling a pair burning into your face and looking over at the source. Todoroki, who you’d caught sending you looks all night. He’d been like your saviour all week, letting you stay at his place when yours felt too lonely, never asking any questions or pushing you to tell him why you weren’t acting like yourself. You knew he had noticed, if anyone was perceptive it was Todoroki, he never missed a thing.

Kaminari cleared his throat beside you, fingertip poking your cheek and gaining your attention as he smiled sweetly in your direction, nodding towards your plate of untouched food as he spoke.

“Are you okay? You’ve barely eaten.” His head tilted to the side, a small frown spreading on his pouty lips and his shoulders slumping, as if your lack of consumption completely deflated his mood.

“I’m alright, just not very hungry. Don’t worry, Kami.” You smiled faintly at him, patting his hand lightly and kissing his cheek, his head bobbing up and down as if he understood. Of course you weren’t hungry. How could you be hungry when you kept watching him kiss her? It made you want to expel everything in your body every time you saw it.

You sighed quietly and pushed your chair out, excusing yourself as Camie’s friends all quieted down to hear the story she was telling them. Bakugou’s fingers were drawing lazy shapes on her bare shoulder blade, your eyes tearing away as you made a silent b-line for the restroom, desperate for a second alone.

The minute the bathroom door closed behind you, you sighed heavily, leaning your back into the hard black door and closing your eyes. You were on the edge of a mental breakdown, your brain on overdrive to even keep you functioning. You were holding too much in. You didn’t want to hurt anyone else’s heart in the process of hurting your own, but could barely handle the feelings consuming you alive.

Your body moved over to the large mirrors above the sink, eyes wandering over the black lace dress that landed mid thigh. You always thought made you look good. Now you thought it made you look depressed, the fabric climbing halfway up your neck and covering the entirety of your arms, it hugging your hollow figure too tight to hide any imperfections you thought you had. It was a stark contrast to the lilac strapless number Camie had gone with. It only amplified how different you both were, neither bad, but one clearly superior in the eyes of Bakugou.

It was a terrible feeling to watch yourself be replaced. Of course you were never the one who filled Bakugou’s heart, but Camie was slowly taking your place in every other way. She was whose pictures covered his walls and whose presents littered his shelves. She was who he sang songs to late at night over the phone and she was the one who kept his attention when she was in the room. You were becoming more obsolete every second she became more relevant.

After a quick splash of water and a few deep breathes, you adjusted your body to stand up straight, hair pulled half back up off your face for once. You slowly pushed the heavy bathroom door open, giving yourself a mental pep talk as you exited the hallway towards the backroom, aware of the eery silence that filled your ears. Why did it make your skin crawl to hear so little chatter?

You scrunched your face up just as you entered the room, confused as to why Bakugou and Camie were standing and no one was speaking, Bakugou’s back to you and Camie’s eyes flickering to yours for a second, before focusing back on him. That was when his body sunk down to the floor and onto one knee, your body halting all movement.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

Right before your very eyes were you watching Bakugou Katsuki crush the very last piece of you.

Gasps filled the air along with excited squeals as he looked up at her, Camie’s delicate hand lifting up to her mouth and covering it in shock, her own eyes filling with tears just as yours were, only hers were of happiness and yours most definitely were not. You saw his reflection in the mirror on the wall, his hands holding open the same velvet box you’d found a few days before, the ring sparkling under the faint light. The world felt like it stopped spinning, your lungs stopping all functions as his eyes met yours in the reflection for just a second, his firm expressing softening for just a second before his eyes tore away from yours, the words flying past his lips without a second thought.

“Camie, will you marry me?”

Hearing the words out loud was the final snip to the string holding you together. Everything began to crumble apart inside you, your cool exterior melting away. Her friends had all burst into cooing and clapping at her exclaimed yes, your body the only one unmoving while the girls all rushed over to see her ring. Your feet started carrying you backwards, your eyes burning and blurry as you saw his body turn towards yours for just a glance. Camie gripped at his arm and pulled him tight to her side as her friends all congratulated them, everyone fawning over them.

Kaminari was staring at Bakugou, then at you, then back at Bakugou, Kirishima complacently beside him looking unimpressed. Todoroki was already moving towards you, pushing past the crowd around them to get to you as you backed up out of the room, whipping around to leave. Your body pushed forward, bumping into a waiter and spilling a drink on yourself but you didn’t stop, rushing out the front doors uncaring about the scene you were causing.

You burst out the front and felt your resolve crumble completely, your body collapsing forward as you stumbled out and a choked sob ripped from your throat. You couldn’t hide it anymore, you didn’t care if it was selfish, you couldn’t pretend you were okay. You weren’t okay, you were so damn far from okay.

The air was filled with the sounds of your loud crying, your entire body shaking as you looked around for somewhere to go, some sign of what to do, struggling to breathe. All you could see in your head was Bakugou down on his knee in front of her and his voice repeating over and over.

He was everywhere, you couldn’t escape him. He was in your head making it hazy and in your eyes making them burn and boil over. He was in your lungs squeezing your airway til it was crushed and nothing could pass through. He was in your very nerves making sure you felt each and every touch he’d ever given you then ripped away. He was in your heart tearing out every last string holding it together until you snapped. You couldn’t do it anymore, it hurt too much.

You struggled to stay standing, seeing spots of black as you tried to stretch straighter. The door behind you opened but you were too weak to turn away. A pair of firm arms enveloped you and that only seemed to make your next wave of tears so much stronger. They were spilling down your cheeks and wetting your flushed skin, the cool wind blowing making your cheeks feel frozen.

You gripped at the strong body’s shirt and bawled into the chest, nostrils flared and mouth wide as you tried to get in oxygen. Your eyes screwed tightly shut as you blocked out the sound of the world around you. You recognized the feel of the hand stroking your hair and dug your nails into his back.

“I love him, Todoroki.” You sobbed, the words coming out choppy, trembling lips having difficulty forming the syllables. “I love him so fucking much.”

“I know.” Todoroki whispered, his grip around you growing more firm as he lifted you off your legs when they went to give out. You’d tried so hard, so so hard to ignore your feelings and you just couldn’t anymore.

You were never going to be his first choice. You were never going to get to hold him and kiss him and tell him how much you loved him. You were never going to be his entire world like he had been yours. Camie was, perfect Camie who had everything you didn’t, and now she had him too.

“Why doesn’t he love me? Why does he love her and not me?” You croaked, arms constricting around his shoulders as his hands gripped below your thighs to keep you steady. “Why am I not enough?”

Todoroki didn’t say anything, his thumbs pressing soft circles into your skin as he kissed his heart shaped lips into your forehead. You bit down hard on your bottom lip to try and hold back the screams you wanted to let out. You tasted metal and released it, using a hand to wipe the tears and snot off your face to no avail. Your eyes wouldn’t quit flowing, like a busted pipe that had been blocked up for years and finally sprung free.

Everything was falling from your lips too fast for you to comprehend, every coherent thought spilling out in cries too loud for such a public space but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, this had been a long time coming.

“I tried so hard to be happy for him. I tried so hard. Nothing I do is making it any easier, it hurts to look at him. I hurts to think about him, I just want it all to stop. “ You faintly felt one of his hands leave your thigh, the other hand sliding across your backside to stop you from falling to the ground. You heard keys and lifted your head slightly to see he was carrying you to his car parked near by, your voice muffling when you laid your head down against his chest. “I can’t do it anymore.”

His hands slid off your body as he leaned you into the door on your own two feet, a hand on your hip to make sure you wouldn’t fall, before turning toward the door to unlock it. Your crying was subsiding but the ache in your chest was only growing. The tears started coming back however when you heard the door of the restaurant open and footsteps rushing your way.

Bakugou was jogging towards the pair of you, Kaminari hot on his trail and you felt your whole body start to seize again, the tears returning tenfold as you covered your face with your hands, turning into Todoroki as he moved to cover you from Bakugou’s worried figure.

“I’m taking her home, she doesn’t feel well so just go back inside, okay? Go celebrate.” You could make out Todoroki’s words despite the way you were hiccuping as you tried to choke back your crying. Even when you were having a breakdown you didn’t want Bakugou to know, you didn’t want to ruin his night. You wanted to smack yourself for caring so much.

“Shut up, Todoroki.” Bakugou snapped, trying to get around Todoroki who was unmoving. Bakugou’s hand reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away, turning your back to him and facing the car as your knees shook, hand clamping over your mouth to keep your crying silent. “Please look at me, please? Please talk to me, stop shutting me out. Please?”

The concerned begging made it worse, he was the reason you were like this. Had he just proposed tonight to make sure your heart was broken as possible? Did he love to be the one to make you miserable? Did he make sure you were there to see it so you wouldn’t keep thinking maybe he could love you too?

“Fucking go inside Bakugou, you’re making it worse.” Todoroki snapped and his figure tensed behind you. Your back shook with each gasp for air you took, vaguely seeing Kaminari touch Bakugou’s shoulder in the rear-view mirror.

“Katsu, cmon. She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.” Kaminari’s unusually soft voice met your ears, the only one who seemed to be calm in the entire situation, though when his eyes met your reflection in the mirror, his face screamed concern. Whether it was for you or the distraught Bakugou you weren’t sure.

“Will you both fucking shut up and let her speak for herself!” Bakugou snapped, the sound of his feet moving making you clam up, his figure coming around Todoroki who was still trying to block Bakugou from seeing you. The moment Bakugou’s face met yours from over Todoroki’s shoulder, his entire face fell, your own twisting in anguish as you started crying harder again, looking away from him.

“Why..” He started quietly, his hands lifting as if to reach out for you but Todoroki smacked them down, yanking open the car door so you could get inside, effectively creating a barrier between the two of you.

“Because you’re an idiot, Bakugou.” Todoroki sighed, shutting the door once you were inside and instantaneously muffling the voices outside the door. You chest was trembling with every inhale you took, hands shaking as you dug your nails into your thighs and squeezed your eyes shut. Everything you had was broken, everything felt ruined and tarnished and sick.

You didn’t feel like you anymore and you didn’t think you’d ever feel right again, not now. Not now that you saw him choose her right before your very eyes. Right after he looked at you did he shatter everything you’d been so desperately hoping for. Your heart you had so willingly given him he tossed to the ground and smashed under his expensive shoes, then crushed the pieces to dust so they could never be put back together. He did it all with five short, little words.

You couldn’t love someone who wouldn’t ever love you, not anymore.

When you dared to glance out the window you could see Todoroki coming towards the driver’s side door, Kaminari trying to tug Bakugou toward the restaurant. Bakugou’s eyes were glued onto your tinted window, not listening to a thing the taller boy said, a pained expression on his face that paled in comparison to the agony in your chest.

Camie’s head came out from the doors, concern painted on her features as she slipped between Kaminari and Bakugou, her arms sliding around her fiance and hugging him. Her ring glittering in the nighttime lighting made you tear your eyes away, the car moving finally and taking you away from there. You shivered but you weren’t sure if it was from the temperature or from your heart rate.

You felt empty, even as the tears fell silently down your cheeks and slid onto the dress that bunched around your thighs. Your heart was gone and your lungs were empty and your brain was consumed with all the things Bakugou had ever done that made you hurt the most. You heard his voice telling you she was the one. You felt his fingers rubbing into your palm as he held your hand and his lips pressing into your cheek. You saw him kissing her and holding her and getting down on one knee. You felt everything he’d ever done that made your heart ache, and all you could do was sit there and take it.

Bakugou wasn’t yours anymore.

He never was in the first place.

And you were an idiot for ever thinking he could be.

Todoroki’s hand wrapped around your knee, rubbing the ice cold skin as you chewed on the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to just breathe. You took slow, deep inhales through your flared nostrils, body twitching from the erratic cries your body was still producing.

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Todoroki’s gentle tone fell on your deaf ears, your nails digging into your thighs so hard they left angry red scratches in their wake. It felt like the earth was opening up and swallowing you whole. You swallowed hard, eyelids falling shut as you tipped your head to the side so it rested against the cool window.

You lifted your legs up, his hand slipping away as they bent in front of you on the leather seat, your arms wrapping around them. You had goosebumps risen along your calves, your body slouching into the door. You could see your face in the rear view mirror when you opened you eyes, your complexion gaunt and eyelids rimmed in smeared black. Little grey streaks were spread across your face from the wind blown tears mixing with your watered down mascara, your lip swollen from biting down so hard. You looked like you had finally given up, like nothing in the world could take away the pain in your heart.

“I don’t think I am, Sho.” You whispered, voice cracking as you let your eyes slip back shut “Not this time.”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou #katsuki #bakugou angst #bakugou fluff #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki #shouto #todoroki angst #todoroki fluff #todoroki smut #todoroki x reader

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transsexualhamlet · 3 years

Text

asmr i psychoanalyze my favorite war criminal, aka calling out norman the essay

basically all of my thoughts on norman on one callout post because i care him (both manga and anime are discussed)

LINK TO RAY PSYCHOANALYSIS: https://chaoticgaymess.tumblr.com/post/646749875570196480/ray-81194-the-long-explanation

this is going to be ungodly long so here’s a keep reading, essay below the cut

((tw for suicidal ideation and self harm, brief discussion of eating disorders))

Disclaimer: no shipping is included here this is just about norman also they’re kids who call each other siblings

Thoughts: So you may be thinking, Rowan, why do you yell about the colorless war criminal so often? Well the answer lies in your honor the court hates to see a girlboss winning. Norman is a girlboss :) Yes norman is a tiny twink who can't lift a milk jug. And he is a girlboss :) Obviously I don't condone, um, eugenics and all, but that's not the point the point is that he satisfies my need for more characters like Levi motherfucking Calder from Unwind because I’m apparently an edgy 13 year old. Also all of his problems are violently things I can fix and I keep him around as a pet project because someone needs to give him a hug and slap him on the face

I diagnose him with things:

-pisces man :pensive:

-is he albino? Not literally. Is his skin so pale he would catch fire if he went outside at noon? Yes.

-autism: Yes I’m aware that calling him autistic makes him, problematic rep by perpetuating the autism unfeeling savant stereotype whatever but have you considered i’m autistic and I’m projecting also he’s L with standards? Anyway traits of AuTism he has: hyper fixation, canonically breaks and fixes things over and over because like ofc he does, doesn’t understand Emotion, hyperaware of body language at the same time as it all somehow flying over his head, low empathy, sensory experiences™, min maxed in certain areas, and I don’t think he’s got social interaction quite right? There’s something off about it

-gifted kid (derogatory) This is self explanatory but basically him being the smartest and the best in a competitive environment caused most of his issues, such as the perfectionism, the need to succeed, the lack of self esteem and ridiculously high expectations on himself, giving himself no breaks or time to relax, the “i must be productive with every second of my day or i will die” deal, the “peaked at 11” thing, the way in which he goes through life like there’s going to be a fucking test on it

-Eldest Daughter™ lmao. Norman’s always had to be mature, he’s always had to be the best, he’s always had to do the things Ray got out of bc he’s a snitch and Emma got out of because Isabella likes her. Norman gets respect from Isabella only if he excels, and her bar for him is astronomical. He doesn’t have the Mommy Issues that Ray has, but it’s because for him Isabella basically just reflected his expectations on himself, whereas with Ray it was more personal.

-low empathy (part of the autism thing): this one needs more explanation, but it’s not a bad thing in and of itself. Cognitive empathy is a thing and he can use it, but he does not instinctively understand other people’s emotions, or even recognize them properly, especially when the person is not like himself. This is obvious in Emma. Man has no fucking clue what’s going on in her head or why she does what she does, but he can predict what she will do in any given situation very well. He could understand the suicide attempt from ray he predicted more because Ray’s an easier equation to solve, and someone who’s more similar to him. I know he gets it because, well, motherfucker’s just as self desctructive as him, just in a more dignified manner.

-he’s got some sort of chronic illness. This is also me projecting and a headcanon but he’s got something going on, even before lambda pumped him full of growth hormones or whatever which they maybe should have Not Done but oh well. (I assume this just didn’t happen in the anime, since he’s still so fucking short) But he's So weak. He passed out when it was too hot. He passed out when it was too cold. He can’t open a pickle jar. His skin is too pale and he’s skinny af. He’s much more prone to sickness and probably has asthma too? But in the case that he did actually have something going on, I don’t think grace field would see the need to treat it, if it didn’t impact the quality of his meat? Isabella’s probably just “you have chronic pain and you get migraines? Great, take some tylenol and do some calculus.” Can’t say that probably helped anything.

personality type: ISTJ

Basically, he’s the most boring personality type to exist, and personally as an enfp i do not respect him. But basically this means he’s a fucking nerd that gets his projects done for school the day they’re assigned, is probably the president of the Anime Student Council™, and could probably get away with premeditated murder (ok actual istjs this is a joke don’t skin me)

The only trait that norman doesn’t have on the istj thing is telling the truth. Yeah, he values the truth, but like, that doesn’t apply to him, clearly. Bitch is a notorious liar.

The only other personality type he has any similarity with is intj, which is the same except it’s more rare and a purple theme instead of a blue theme. Sadly, that’s not him though, because although he can care more about some kinds of philosophy overall this isn’t the case and ray already occupies this personality type tbh.

strengths and weaknesses: This one’s kind of obvious, but he is aside from the crazy insane intelligence good at planning. Extremely good at planning. He can predict any outcome and figure out how to prevent it, using all his resources. For example he’s physically weak and someone could literally just walk up and stab him, but it doesn’t impede his progress on his goals because he’s surrounded himself with strong, mentally inferior people who would die for him in a heartbeat. He never gets stuck in some “everything is shit and i can’t do anything” deal like Emma and Ray do, he always works through it and has confidence in his abilities (in as much as he will solve the problem or die™. Weaknesses other than his twink body include his Low Wisdom score. It’s funny how he’s often associated with an owl, the mans is 14. He thinks he knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t. Plus obviously his fundamental misunderstanding of so much of everything going on around him, the fact that he lies not just to the world but himself, his refusal to take care of himself and his incredible cowardice. His achilles heel is being forced to, actually confront his actions.

what he likes about himself: He does pride himself on his mental abilities, and his judgement, which in his opinion is the only correct opinion and the only correct way. In the past, he likes being seen as a leader, he likes being responsible for other people. He likes his ability to manipulate and lie, because he sees it as an asset, and I honestly think he enjoys being william minerva more than he enjoys being Norman. He prides himself on his unhealthy expectations and the fact that he is able to meet them. Honestly, he does think he’s better than everyone else, mentally, though it’s humbled by his self hatred. Cursed thought: If Norman had self esteem he would be light yagami.

what he doesn’t like about himself/insecurities: Oh god, nearly everything. His appearance, his status, his superiority, his physical inability, his own mess of a mind, also have I mentioned his appearance. He’s obsessed with self control. He wants everything he sees wrong with himself gone. And I understand why having control of everything is necessary and appealing, everything for him has always been rigid and planned out from moment one, he was even more regulated in lambda, and though he desperately wants to Not Be Food, he has no idea what to do with the chains now that he’s broken out of them. So he just wraps them around himself. Regulates to an unhealthy degree when he sleeps, what he eats, when he actually takes even minimal care of his own problems, what he looks like, how much of himself he lets show, the expressions on his face, the literal thoughts inside his own head he will shut down if they are not Correct. It’s literal self harm. Norman, please stop it.

motivations/goals in life/general philosophy: To be honest, I’m not sure he knows what he wants. He sure thinks he does, he could sure give you a memorized answer, but it means nothing. He wants to excel. He wants Emma to be happy. He wants to be perfect and for that to make everything perfect. But he doesn’t realize everything he’s working towards will do pretty much the opposite of that. He’s a crippling perfectionist, and pretty much everything he does is motivated by his fear of failing. He picks the certain path, he doesn’t wait for anyone else, he doesn’t care if it’s not nice. Emma foils that a most of the time because he cares about her, but it can only go so far, especially after he’s had so much time without her to develop a Complex. His philosophy is very contradictory, basically the tokyo ghoul “everything bad that happens to you stems from a lack of ability”. All of his problems are his fault. All the world’s problems are his to fix. If he can’t fix them, it’s his fault, it’s because he wasn’t strong enough, and not being perfect condemns someone forever, including himself.

how he’s perceived by others vs how he actually is: In most people there wouldn’t truly be much of a difference, but with Norman things are different, because, well, most of his personality in grace field is a put on, as well as the tough guy dictator thing he radiates after lambda. How he appears to someone is determined by the context of their meeting- the kids at grace field see him as a nerdy, weakish, pretty boring kid who is really caring and kind. The researchers at lambda see an obedient, beaten down and perfectionistic boy. The lambda kids see him as an infallible leader, ruthless and genius, a good man who knows what’s right. But in truth none of that is him. It’s a fucking chess game to him, putting on different faces, lying and pretending and treating everyone differently. In truth? He’s a fucking coward. He’s scared out of his mind and he’s tired and he can’t take pain, he’s obsessed with reaching some goal he deems is necessary that in the end is going to be his death because he doesn’t want to face the consequences of his actions. He’s taken on the role of someone evil, though deep down he’s not, he feels it’s easier to live that way because it strips him of his conscience.

interpersonal relationships: In general, Norman sees all relationships in a pretty dim light. He sees everyone as black and white, for the most part, and other people make no sense to him intuitively, he has to figure them out like a puzzle. He’s manipulative and not particularly kind, but he follows all societal expectations to a T, overly focused on his appearance and placing the person he’s interacting with into a Category™. So he can be truly kind, to people he feels deserve it, to people who he values and doesn’t see flaws in. He gets incredibly attached to people he loves, protective, though he often doesn’t take their own feelings on the matter into consideration, and he’s ruthless with anyone who he deems a bad person. With people he understands and relates to, though, things can be different. If he sees someone as like himself, he will drop all the social interaction police bullshit and cut to the chase of whatever he wants or needs from them, and he’s not very forgiving in any manner, if he thinks what someone did is actually bad.

Emma: Norman obviously cares a lot about Emma, and honestly views her as better than anyone else. He realizes her moral integrity and all of the things she has and he doesn’t, and admires it. Because of his black and white view, Emma is like an angel to him. She couldn’t do anything wrong if she tried. But he comes to treat her as something to be protected instead of respected, and although he realizes she wouldn’t like what he’s doing, he fundamentally cannot empathize with her and doesn’t try to understand her. Their personalities are very literally opposite. Norman really needs to fucking listen to her. And Emma needs to understand that Norman doesn’t have a single ounce of empathy and you really do need to spell it out for him. Emma can only convince him when she has logical reasons for her actions, which she, doesn’t often have. And Emma gave Norman too much slack, because she didn’t see past the surface, and Ray never wanted to warn her, even though he knew the dude was showing a bunch of red flags, because you know. It was kind of an unspoken deal between them. (on ray’s part)

Ray: His relationship with Ray is a lot more complicated than with Emma. He understands Ray, where he doesn’t understand Emma, and he can see right through anything Ray does. And this makes things really tense between them, because Ray doesn’t, take kindly to being psychoanalyzed. If someone perceives him he will deck them and Norman is just there silently perceiving him at all times when Emma doesn’t see it. They are both constantly in competition with each other, but they care about each other a lot, though it’s kind of in a derogatory way. They both recognize each other as fundamentally fucked up, and silently agree never to bring it up with Emma. They’re nice to each other when she’s around, but all pretenses disappear when she’s gone. Ray is always frustrated with Norman, because Norman’s never been intimidated by him, and though he tries his best not to be vulnerable around him, Norman can always see through it, whereas Ray can’t crack Norman’s fake fucking smile no matter what he does. Norman will always take Emma’s side, and doesn’t see Ray as a good person at all, but he still understands and can excuse him, he takes measures to be… worse than Ray, which is better in his mind, because it’s rational, and ‘not selfish’.

Isabella: She has always had ridiculously high expectations for Norman, and treats him kind of harshly compared to the others. Bitch has heat stroke and Isabella’s first question is a calculus problem instead of like, “are you ok”. She knows he doesn’t complain about anything ever and she doesn’t stop him from being Terrible to himself, because it makes her job easier. They want smart kids, not mentally adjusted kids. She does really care for all of them, but she basically overrides it, she gives them what they want, not what they need, lets them be exactly what they’re making themselves. Isabella is distant with Ray but gives him anything he wants, she’s close and super nice with Emma, but Norman is… it’s weird. Isabella is proud of him because he meets her astronomically high bar. But at the same time, Norman never really cared for her that much and has never pretended to. Once they discover The Thing, though, he has a revelation, and it doesn’t take him long to switch his entire perspective about her. He’s pretty much like. Oh. She’s like me. That explains it, time to treat her like I treat myself: fucking brutally. Passive aggressive as hell. The kind of energy the :) emoticon at the end of an email gives. He does like just go “yeah we should kill her” at one point, which. You know, ok. When he got shipped out it was hhhh really interesting because Isabella knew full well he knew he was walking to his death and Norman was like “are you Truly Happy?” and just went :) and she was like h u h and tried to get him to talk while they were walking there because she feels Bad about it and he just. Did not. He didn’t say a single word just kind of smiled menacingly at her and I think it was half a sort of rebellion and half because he viewed her as similar to himself and therefore felt no need to put up any front with her, no words were necessary for him to impart exactly how he felt about it

Lambda kids: His relationship with the lambda kids is weird and bittersweet. I think he really truly does care about them, they were in a similar situation to his and he wants them to get what they want. However it is not a healthy or beneficial relationship, they see him as a god and don’t realize that he’s killing himself to give them what they want, he’s basically adopted them when out of anyone norman’s the one that should least be in charge of kids. I think he’s honestly younger than them but I’m not sure if they even know. He acts like their fucking mom, and that’s from what he thinks mothers are like… like isabella?? Giving them what they want, not what they need, lying to them, showing a front, caring deeply for them but at the same time using them for his own ends. And it’s not helpful for him. He thinks he knows what they need, but what he’s doing is what they want. What they need is therapy,(and so does norman), and he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with using them as weapons because they love him. It makes him feel good, to be seen as perfect, to have people who don’t know how weak he really is. But it’s only making him worse, and he’s enabling everything the lambda kids are doing wrong as well. They need like, Yuugo and Lucas. Some actual adults who are actually wise and have the ability and the knowledge to take care of them and understand their mental problems and maybe actually address them. And actually be nice to them. But um sadly.

what he’s doing wrong: It’s pretty obvious, but… Norman, you maybe *shouldn’t* commit genocide? You’re not helping emma, you’re not making anything better. You’re not helping the lambda kids, you’re enabling them. You’re not helping your friends from grace field, you’re ignoring what they want. You’re not helping the world, you’re eradicating an entire race from the face of the earth and murdering the poor for the crimes of the fucking 1%. You’re not being a martyr, you’re a selfish piece of shit liar you little coward, you just want an easy way out and you want to die on your bloody fucking hill instead of admitting you’re wrong. Grow up, cringe little man.

why he went wrong: I think most of the reason this happened was the way he was raised combined with the kind of person he is. Norman would have turned out fine, if there has been good adults in his life who actually cared about his well being. Instead he got people who just wanted to control him and make him what they needed, and family who largely didn’t realize there was anything wrong. Ray being an ass to him most of forever probably didn’t help but well, that’s just Ray. Even then, he would have managed alright if he escaped with the rest of the kids because he would never have been separated from the experiences that caused the rest of them to realize demons weren’t all evil. In lambda he didn’t have anyone supporting him or telling him when things went too far, so he fell into relying on himself alone, pushing himself further with absolutely no limits. All he saw was enemies and allies, and things got stratified. He never had a lucas or a yuugo or mujika when he would have needed it, instead he found children who wanted him to be in charge and a world that made it so he had to be. Everything was an echo chamber for his worst thoughts, so they just became more and more dominant.

what he needs: To put it simply, he needs Emma and Ray to cut to the chase and slap him across the face and make him take care of himself. He needs to be forced to see everything for what it really is- this edgy 14 year old committing atrocities to feel better about himself? He needs to be told that what he’s doing is irrational, because in reality, it is. There are better solutions that he’s ignoring, both to his own suffering and the demons, and the way he’s going now no one will truly be happy because of it, that there is no requirement that things be perfect and this bullshit doesn’t make him stronger. He needs someone responsible to take the fucking dagger out of his hands. He also needs someone to babysit him and make him go to bed at a reasonable time.

i describe his personality through songs on my spotify playlist for him:

-outrunning karma by alec benjamin: this one super applies because it calls him out for making shitty decisions, being manipulative and a liar, and having blood on his hands in a very calm and subdued manner, that he knows this is wrong and yet he chooses to keep running faster and faster towards destruction, that he means to escape it through death

-empty by boyinaband and jaiden: yes this is a song about anorexia yes it also applies to norman i’m not saying norman literally has an eating disorder (but honestly it wouldn’t be far out of character if he did) but metaphorically this applies to his method of ignoring his needs, both emotional and physical, in favor of seeming in control

-toxic thoughts by faith marie: this one speaks to his gifted kid trauma. Man’s got perfectionism running his entire soul. He’s terrified of failing, because he’s always been at the very top, he’ll beat himself up over any miniscule mistake and forces himself to keep at bad habits that keep him Productive, but he won’t ask for help no matter how much he’s suffering because that would be failing, he fights with his mind, this song basically tells him “yeah i feel you but you need to stop that”

-no time to die by billie eilish: ignore the romantic overtones but this is emma and norman, emma who trusted norman and was lied to, betrayed, for norman’s greater good, and norman who refuses to feel or hurt because of it, who refuses to apologize or see himself as wrong, pushes forward because he’s going to Pass Away

-achilles come down by gang of youths: hhhhh it's like. His vibe. Obviously you can disregard the lifestyle specific shit but it's. It's achilles come down you have to understand it’s like the same deal as friend, please just like french and longer

-friend, please by 21 pilots: i feel like i don't have to explain this one but it’s more to the manga (not the anime where he kind of figures out he done did wrong by himself instead of committing unforgivable sins and still going yeah this is valid before emma is like holy fuck). He is like sorry emma I cannot fix anything I’m going to die :) *coughs blood* and emma going like stop it stop it stop it fuck you see you fucked up and i forgive you just stop don’t walk away while he’s like “no<3”

why im a repressed little norman kinnie even tho he’s my exact opposite: I don’t generally kin ppl like norman, honestly he’s an infj I have no clue how it happened but I’m pretty sure it’s because of my intense desire to project onto a little man who cannot lift a milk jug and has chronic pain and decides you know what I AM tired of being nice i DO wanna go apeshit. Also he’s a twink. A little bastard. He’s a terrible person and I go mood every time he does anything. I said mood when he fell out of a tree. Don’t know what this says about me, I swear I wouldn’t commit no genocide. He’s like the inverse of Yoichi Saotome, and somehow i kin him too. Damn.

Miscellaneous headcanons:

-man’s SO attached to his william minerva cloak. He’s a wispy little bitch, you know he’s wearing that thing inside the house, he’s fucking cold. It also makes him Look Important he can retreat into it like an emo middle schooler with an oversized sweatshirt

-although you could probably get Mad street cred from having two whole brands you know he’s not gonna whip it out and show off his lambda thing he’s incredibly self conscious and his chest hasn’t seen the sun in years

-norman’s got MAD laundry skills to be able to wear like, all white all the time while constantly murdering people. I think he’s the only one who knows to do the laundry. And Ray is the only one who knows how to cook.

-but even then there’s gotta still be a few questionable stains on that thing, but if anyone asks he’s like “ketchup” “I’ve literally never seen you eat anything with that much color” “ketchup :)” *coughs blood*

-he’s probably thought “well i have not literally coughed blood yet today so I am not legally obligated to take care of myself”

-He probably adopted much of his current personality from taking on the persona of william minerva. I’m calling him out for being like me, he’s a blank motherfucker, he absorbs personality traits from characters he plays! He’s just not in theatre so it’s a bit more intense!

-the first time he sees barbara Eating Demon Meat he kinda stares and goes oh cool! not for me and violently exits the room. Like it's hilarious bc he thinks that's really gross on a moral level though he understands why she would do it

-Which is even funnier bc I’m not sure about the canon on this but there was That Chapter Cover that one time that kinda seemed to imply norman eating demon meat which i absolutely latched onto because I’m terrible. He was just politely eating it. With a knife and fork like why dude. As to a possible reason for him doing that I can come up with, of course barbara does it out of spite, but man we don’t know the properties, if it had some sort of painkilling aspect to it or it was like, caffeine, you know he would, but he would Definitely not talk about it

-I kinda disagree with what the anime did in episode eight? It was good I liked it and the imagery was fantastic but also have you considered Norman could not kill someone with his own hands if he tried, or even physically injure them? That’s what his minions are for shawty. That doesn’t make it any less bad, of course, but the manga captured it perfectly by the fact of he carries around a dagger and a scepter in the capitol battle, but he never even raises it out of more than intimidation. He walks through calmly like he’s not scared at all but he makes sure all the lambda kids do all the actual murder, he just stands there impartially, clearly The Mastermind, as the kids fucking murder the queen of the demons. And I think that’s more profound because he’s, a coward. And he doesn’t realize being the one who orders the strike makes you just as responsible as the one who sticks the knife in someone. The knife is just there to Compensate™ for the fact that he weighs like eighty pounds.

-he’s more of like lady macbeth (because he’s a girlboss) than macbeth himself. He has blood on his hands, but it’s the kind of blood that you can’t wash off. He never killed anyone himself, and he cannot admit he never would have been able to.

-the last thing is that there are definitely epic things about the anime, episode 8 was my favorite so far, goddamn that imagery and the bitch walking through the city while it burns down with the screaming asmr going on behind him my god. We stan. But like the downside of, letting Emma and Ray get to him before he commits first degree murder makes the whole thing lose a lot of his value. In the manga (oh my god look at me being a pretentious manga fan please) it fit more of his ideas- he never backed down, and he planned for Emma coming and trying to stop him. Of course he wanted Emma to stop him, he wanted it with all his fucking heart he was pleading for it to happen but the man wouldn’t give himself what he wanted if he was held at gunpoint. He knew she’d come and he made absolutely sure she wouldn’t be able to stop him. So when she came and he said “you’re too late”??? It kind of said it all, in the fact that he was disappointed that he got his way. He still thought he did the right thing, but deep down there where he shoved all his thoughts and feelings he desperately wanted to be saved from himself.

So yeah, those are my thoughts. Feel free to eviscerate me if these are not Correct he is just my favorite girlboss who I feel the need to yell at

#tpn #the promised neverland #yakusoku no neverland #tpn norman #norman tpn #essay post #god why do i do this to myself #dear god help me this is 5000 words #rowan's hyperfixation essays

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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ngl voyager gets a whole lot of very disproportional hate from the fandom and i'd hazard a guess that a lot of that is just garden-variety misogyny (and probably racism mixed in, considering how many of the most prominent characters are women, poc, or both). like, is voyager perfect? absolutely not. and no spoilers but there was a lot of executive meddling that wound up leading to the finale/conclusion being lacking and there's a lot of reasonable dissatisfaction with that--but again that was largely thanks to the execs fucking the show over and i recommend looking into that if you can once you've finished the show. but overall? voyager is trek right to its very core--it has heart, it's about family, and it never loses sight of that imo, even if some episodes are weaker or just duds (but, like, would it be a trek series without some episodes that just kinda suck but are still fun to watch???)

anyway, i absolutely love that you're getting into voyager, it is my all-time favorite trek series to this day for a lot of reasons, and i hope that ppl like that anon dont put you off bc i'd love to continue to see your thoughts as you watch the series!

Oh, it would take a whole lot more than some anons being salty that others enjoy things to turn me off :D

Thus far (I lost internet last night so I’m still only on Episode 7 of Season 2), Voyager is the Trekiest Trek I’ve watched. Which is a weird sentence, but I mean it in the way you said it’s “trek right to its very core.” What is Star Trek, if we strip the intent of the story down to its basics? It’s about exploration, discovery, that “wagon train to the stars,” wrapped up in the argument that life is fundamentally good. We have problems, but we can work past them. We have differences, but they strengthen us. Diversity is the lifeblood of the universe and the future will continue to improve so long as we embrace that.

Voyager is (again, from what I’ve seen so far!) basically a love song to that premise. I didn’t do too deep a dive because I’m trying to avoid spoilers, but I did look at a couple threads discussing why Voyager is so hated. Again and again I saw the same reason pop up: wasted potential. Now, a lot of fans left it at that (as if the answer to what potential Voyager apparently missed out on is self-evident. It’s not), but those who did expand on the idea consistently claimed that the show needed to be darker than it was, even if they rarely said it like that. Why aren’t the Federation and the Marquis at each other’s throats? Why isn’t the crew going crazy under these circumstances? Why aren’t characters getting killed off left and right in hostile space? “Anything could have happened out there and they played it safe!” but the “anything” here is always... awful. There’s this very pervasive idea that the world is inherently cruel, people are inherently divisive, that when pushed to the brink everything will fall apart... and that (while making for one kind of great story) is very much not Star Trek.

See, Voyager created an unimaginable scenario--lost in space, 75 years from home, forced to live indefinitely with strangers--and their answer to the question of “What happens?” is “People make it work.” They learn to respect one another, they uphold their ideals, they maintain a love of life and discovery, and they create a family. And that’s fucking fantastic. That’s Star Trek! I’m not going to pretend there aren’t problems with the show, with plenty more to come, I’m sure, but I don’t think this is one of them. Why do so many viewers think that hatred, horror, death, and growing jaded is the only potential here? Why would they expect that in a Star Trek show whose premise is the very antithesis of those things?

“But they don’t do enough with those things, even if they have happy outcomes.” They do plenty, they just do it in an episodic rather than serialized nature. I can point to multiple episodes where the replicator rations or Maquis differences are driving the characters’ actions. “But without that horror there’s no conflict.” There’s plenty of conflict. Hostile aliens aside, I just watched an episode where Tuvok and Chakotay are pissed as hell at one another because they fundamentally disagree over how to handle problems, but--because they’re adults with a well-tested respect for one another--they apologize and work through it. “But the characters don’t develop at all.” You mean they don’t grow harder. That’s not the same thing as no development. Tuvok is figuring out how to be more flexible, Chakotay is becoming more willing to accept cultures he doesn’t agree with, Harry is growing more confident now that he’s far from home, the Doctor is learning to see himself as a person, Paris is grabbing his second chance with both hands by making strong ties, and Janeway is learning to command and care for her crew simultaneously. I honestly believe that a lot of people think of “character development” as the character becoming a fundamentally different person, unrecognizable from where they started out. But characters can also grow into the people they wanted to be in the first place. “We’re far from home, in hostile territory, tempted to do horrific things to survive... but no. Right now at least, we’re holding onto who we are. We’re scientists, so we’re going to explore and learn. We’re peaceful, so we’re going to make friends with as many species as we can. We’re members of a society that teaches acceptance, so we’re going to form a family on this spaceship.” That’s incredible!! Did fans miss why Seska was an antagonist in the episode she was unmasked? Because she was trying to convince them to give up everything they believe in in the name of survival, an ends justify the means argument. And the crew said no, we will not give up what we believe in just to make it through. I legit saw a ton of fans saying some version of, “I can’t believe they were that far from home and actually followed Starfleet’s rulebook.” It’s because those rules don’t exist for the hell of it. Overlooking their practical function, they’re a philosophy that the characters believe in, and they’re figuring out how important that part of their identity is to them under these circumstances. Am I willing to steal a specie’s technology if it gets us home? Am I willing to die to help another uphold their own philosophy? (Chakotay in “Imitations”). What regulations should we bend or change to accommodate our new situation? The first two things Janeway does are a) giving the guy who just came out of a penal colony a rank and b) deciding that she needs to be more familiar with her crew than is normally encouraged for a captain because she’s essentially their mom now. Developing doesn’t have to mean characters do a 180 on their initial personality, or characters getting killed off when stuff gets “boring” so that others can do edgy things in response.

Voyager upholds Trek’s premise and runs it to its logical conclusion:

Voyager has the most literal trek--a trek back home.

Voyager has the most diverse crew--a woman Captain, Native American First officer, black Vulcan, Asian-American communications officer, and a White Dude pilot that realizes he wants to be soft and kind towards those who took a chance on him because Toxic Masculinity who?

Voyager has the most literal family--not just a 5+ year mission, but a crew who expects to raise the next generation. They have no choice but to work together, so they indeed come together rather than pulling apart

Except they do, of course, have a choice. In “The 37′s” the crew is allowed to stay on the Earth-like planet with a city of other humans and Janeway is convinced that a sizable number will choose that. After all, they may never get home and this is a safer, kinder future for them. In fact, the real question is whether so many will stay that they can no longer run the ship... but Janeway would never dictate her crew’s choices in that manner. So she swallows her worry down, opens the door...

... and finds that not a single person decided to stay behind. And the show has ensured we understand that this is not just because they all have some unshakable belief that they’ll get home (many don’t), but because this is their family now. This is home.

And fans want to toss that out for a generic, gritty, sci-fi adventure where hope is scarce, the universe is cruel, and people need to be pushed to the limit just to admit that they maybe, sort of, like each other?? Obviously like what you like, but that’s a hard pass for me. I’ll take the bridge crew comforting each other in “Twisted,” thanks. Besides, we already have shows like that. And we already have DS9 which grapples with many of those dark, pessimistic themes. Voyager feels like a breath of fresh air, even within the breath of fresh air that is Star Trek as a franchise. It’s a show that says, “Yes, when everything goes wrong people will come together. They will love each other. They will make it through.”

What’s more Star Trek than that?

#star trek #ST #mymetas #Anonymous

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kaythefloppa · 2 years

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Hot take: Grubber's redemption in the MLP movie is the 2nd best redemption in Friendship is Magic. Obviously the first goes to Sunset Shimmer for obvious reasons, but Grubber is unnoticed throughout the fandom and he is truly an underrated case, but I think he is actually a very strong character and his redemption may actually Trump Tempest Shadow's.

Villain sidekicks who are more comedic have more potential for redemption than bigger bads. Mainly because they're not as serious and they don't invoke a sense of sheer hatred. Grubber was specifically created to contrast Tempest’s dark tone so while he is a villain, the lacking of a menacing role and personality allows for him to be a more redeemable character.

This doesn't mean that all comic relief villains can and should get redemption arcs, but Grubber is a case where he isn't irredeemable.

Grubber himself is described as a good guy put in a bad situation. He's nowhere near as vile as say the Pony of Shadows or Chancellor Neighsay and he isn't shown acting as nasty or vindictive

Redemption would fit his character both by the show's habit and by the logic of his character.

In the prequel book, Grubber's motivation is shown and it isn't tragic or complicated: He wants validation from someone he looks up to and wants to fit in with his peers. It's one that fits his personality and his actions, unlike what we get with Starlight and her monstrous delusions of grandeur.

His redemption also ties into this; After failing to stop Twilight's friends, his self esteem lowers and he prepares to leave but Tempest arrives and gives him words of encouragement and offers him friendship. His redemption is the resolution of his villain arc. It's a proper set up and resolve: Grubber wants to be Tempest’s sidekick but fails: In the end he learns the value of himself and changes for the better. It wraps up like a bow:

Grubber's redemption also compliments Tempest's redemption. She apologizes for her shitty behavior towards him and lets him know that not being good at being the bad guy is something that shouldn't be looked down upon. This shows growth for both Tempest and Grubber. The former learning to be more open and kind, and the latter being shown to a new side of life: These two character arcs intertwine with each other whilst being good on their own which is why I got SO MAD when Tempest got name dropped in the show, had a comic arc based around her, and appeared in the final episode yet Grubber was left in the wayside.

Lastly, (and this is the most interesting), the Mane 6 had nothing to do with it: Unlike Nightmare Moon & Stygian, Grubber's heel-face turn was not from the Mane 6's actions. This makes sense because the Mane 6 had fuck all to do with his story. It was his story and Tempest was a key factor in it so thus it makes sense for his redemption to be tied to Tempest. Stygian and Juniper's redemption was basically just forcing Starlight to be the "hero" by turning the villains away, regardless if she had anything to do with the conflict at hand and passing it off as a furthering point in her redemption (note that while I am dissing Starlight, I don't really hate her. Sure her motivation and redemption is shit but she's overall an OK character despite that. 4/10. And I'm comparing Grubber to Starlight because Starlight is a culmination of the redemption trend so it feels fitting to comparevthr 2). Once again, Grubber's conflict was with Tempest and this conflict resolved when she took the initiative, thus resolving both character arcs. Had it been the Mane 6 that came up to Grubber and held out a hand in forgiveness, while it would've been good to see, it wouldn't have directly solved the conflict.

So in the end, despite his lacking role in the film, he's redemption is a service to his and Tempest’s character and the overall story, which is why I place him direct under Sunset Shimmer in the best redemption list that I might make in the future.

I know that not a lot of people are a fan of Grubber, but I am and I wish his character was more touched upon.

#my little pony friendship is magic #friendship is magic #mlp fim #mlp the movie #grubber #2017 #2021 #redemption arc #starlight glimmer #sunset shimmer #equestria girls #tempest shadow #fizzlepop berrytwist

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gingus-doon · 3 years

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pov u just shot your childhood hero, wdyd

i.e. i ramble about keiji post-shooting; his occupation, what he does, how he copes, how he feels, etc. etc.

just putting this little thing here because the post got quite long and i couldn't split it up because it's all somewhat related. it started out as a rant / informal ramble but then it got serious lololol

—

one thing i don't understand is why people hc keiji as still having a job with the police post-shooting? like that just doesn't make sense to me– not only based on his character but like... why would you wanna make him a cop with all the talk of how much the police suck lately? personally i'm a brown bitch so i couldn't be down with thirsting over a cop lol. it's just kinda confusing sjdhd

i've seen the hc of him as a private investigator, though, which i like! it's a very neat way to let him flex his detective skills without being part of a corrupt organization and without forsaking his own personal beliefs and feelings about the police, because i don't think those would change anywhere near easily and i just kinda can't see him going back into the police force because of that.

i have often wondered what keiji would do after the death game, and what he was doing before the death game or after the shooting, because i think he'd definitely quit after the shooting, with all the grief and trauma surrounding the job and his newfound cynicism.

i don't think he'd be doing private investigation before the game, or more specifically, before his character develops into something reminiscent of his old self– as he is at the start of the game, he just doesn't have that faith in protection, so i can't imagine him being an investigator at that point. HOWEVER, in a post death game OR non-death game au where keiji has started to pull himself up from that tar (most likely with the help of others lol) i think that's definitely a plausible option for him and i like it a lot :]

as for other options, though... i really don't know! this is more of a stupid idea but i considered him working in a convenience store like shin lol. i had a whoooole au about him, kai, and shin working in the same convenience store just because they can't hold down any other jobs / don't know what else to do for work. shin is able to actually hold down the job because the last manager was mysteriously taken out of commission (i don't know lol) and they were ridiculously short-staffed already so shin ended up being the "most qualified" for the now vacant position. keiji's had a string of odd jobs since the police and this is just the next one. he's hoping to find something with a better wage but this'll do for now, it's even in walking distance from his apartment. and kai, kai's trying to exercise more independence from the chidouins' after becoming his own person! so he gets what i think would be his first job (well, his first official job, anyway... being an assassin and the chidouins' personal maid were more unofficial gigs lol.) ahh that was a lotta rambling about my dumb little au but i just think it'd be neat, they're three of my favourite characters so having them just vibe with each other at work and become friends sounds nice 2 me :] also Coincidentally i ship literally every combination of those three characters so that may have played a part in my casting decisions lmfao

oh wow that was a really long and uncalled for synopsis but this is just a rambly post so it can't really be uncalled for because this post doesn't have any particular point lol (A/N after writing this— IT HAS A POINT NOW, DISREGARD PAST ME)

SO ANYWAY ! i was just considering what keiji would do right after the shooting. honestly i have noooo idea, it's the beginning of a long road of him burying his trauma in a desperate attempt to avoid facing the pain it brings, and it marks a profound loss of innocence which makes his heart begin to grow cold. it's just hard to see the beginning of the process when where he started and where he ended up are very different places.

obviously, he'd quit his job. i wonder if the hallucinations would start right away? him being naïve in the beginning, i'm sure he'd acknowledge them– cry out apologies and plead for forgiveness until his throat is hoarse. the rule of hallucinations in yttd seems to be that if you acknowledge them, they'll burn themselves into your brain and you'll never be rid of them– implying that keiji has done so, as it's likely been years since the shooting and he's still suffering from the visions despite seeming to ignore them now.

ahh, i'm getting in my feelings about keiji now 😭😭 when i started this, i wanted to be held by him, but now i just wanna hug him like damnnnn

but back to what he'd do after the shooting– this scenario is self indulgent, but wouldn't it be nice if he took some time off and just stayed at his mom's place for a while? help her with chores while she's at work, try to regain a sense of normalcy in his childhood home...

i don't think he'd be able to do this right after the shooting. keiji had shame, once upon a time– the guilt would rack him like nothing else. i can imagine him spending a lot of late nights with alcohol, just wishing it was a dream. his resentment towards megumi slowly building as he feels he's being left in the dark as to why, why he isn't allowed to atone, why she's being so cold towards him about the shooting when he's suffering so heavily from the effects of it.

he wouldn't want to be around his dear mom as a murderer, and as a resentful alcoholic who's coping very poorly with his circumstances.

also (tangent incoming), i kind of wonder about keiji and alcohol a lot. in his fondness events with mishima, he says the following—

the "haven't drank that much in years" part makes me wonder– for how long? did he start to restrain himself before the shooting or after? i would say it's most likely after, considering the "feels like it'll swallow me up" comment he made soon after. and, how he talked about binge drinking when he was still a newbie. perhaps it was fine for him to do so, before the shooting— he'd just get wasted and flirt, have a good time. but after, it morphed into an inefficient coping mechanism which he fell far within the depths of to try and control the worst of his grief and self hatred. after that, heavy drinking couldn't just be for fun anymore.

i assume in the "before it got this way" comment, the "way" he's referring to is how he doesn't drink much anymore? or, he could be talking about the depression drinking, but i think the prior makes more sense.

even though i think, given keiji's example of drinking with megumi, that he could have gotten blackout drunk a couple of times purely for fun pre-shooting, i think here he's referring to the painful side of his relationship with alcohol here, the part that took place when he was trying to cope with his trauma. i think he brings up the story of drinking with megumi immediately after, then, to avoid talking about that part of his past. though he doesn't show it much, i think he's deeply ashamed of himself. not only of what he's done, but how he's handled it afterwards.

on a lighter note, though, it's quite funny to think of Lawful Good young keiji shinogi getting drunk off his ass and flirting with every woman he comes across willing to flirt back. like, what's up with that??? he seems like such a serious dork in the flashbacks, but doing well in his police job, he just... lets loose?? no no, honestly i think he hadn't drank much before going out with megumi and he took her insistence on him drinking a little too far, and with his inexperience with alcohol and the successive lack of self restraint that comes with each new drink, you get casanova shinogi, lmao.

BACK TO THE SERIOUS STUFF THOUGH !! i really like the idea of him going to his mom to help him pull himself back together. i think they'd have a solid relationship, fight me! he seems to adore his mom as a child with a good single parent usually does. i'm sure he appreciates her immensely for all the care and love she managed to give him when he was a kid while also working her ass off to support them financially. this very respect for her is what i think would drive him to isolate himself from her after the shooting– as i said above, he's a murderer now. a disappointing human being in general, and an even worse son. to let down his mother who worked so hard to raise him right... how could he? as his condition worsens and his heart grows colder, i'm sure that feeling would fester inside of him. he'd try to ignore it, as he does with everything else, but it's already wrapped its tendrils around his soul. that particular guilt isn't leaving him any time soon.

now that i'm thinking about it, also, i don't think it's likely that he'd quit his job right right away. it'd be more of a slow descent over the span of a few weeks. immediately after the shooting, he may stop showing up to work for a while. he just can't put on that uniform when it's practically caked in the blood of someone he held in such high esteem for so long. eventually, though, he gets a hold on himself– just a bit. he doesn't want to be cooped up in his apartment with his thoughts anymore, and he doesn't want to lose his job. what else would he do?

so, he takes it easy on the first few days back. megumi tries to make it easy for him. paperwork, whatever job he could do that's not on the field. he clings to her like a wounded puppy, hoping that she'll explain why she's covering it up when he doesn't want her to, what he's supposed to do with these feelings around the incident. he's drowning, and she's made herself a big sister figure to him– she's supposed to help him. but, she shrugs him off when he brings it up. she's so harsh about it compared to how she usually speaks to him. perhaps because of her own guilt around the incident, perhaps it's the family's response and how keiji is now, how panicked and sleep deprived the poor kid has looked since that day.

so he continues to spiral with nothing to hold on to. grasps at alcohol in a futile attempt to stop falling, because it's all he can think to fall back on. he's a wreck at work– he's barely living, much less working. but megumi tries her best to keep him from getting fired. she'll get him coffee and breakfast and try to say something encouraging. "hey. hang in there, shinogi." with a touch on the shoulder. but in spite of her efforts, of course, it hits a breaking point. everyone in the job thinks keiji's too damaged to continue, saying he either needs to see a shrink or get the hell out of the way and let everyone else do their job.

and keiji just stops coming into work one day.

the downward spiral ensues.

#your turn to die #keiji shinogi #yttd keiji #kimi ga shine #i really just wrote this much just about keiji like goddamn. calm down @ me #it's not that much tho i checked and it's like not even 2000 words 😔😔#i got sad writing some of the angstier parts of this. like keiji... my darling.... let me hug him #i feel like there's a lot to be said about ~after the shooting~ and the process of him becoming the man he is now #there's lotsa speculation about that here from me specifically lol #i'd kinda kill to read a fic that goes into this stuff! no ship or anything just keiji. and megumi and his mom #i wonder if it exists 👀👀👀 but there are few things without ships that exist....#anyway i love keiji more now somehow #i am super keiji simp trust #i am tired tho lol i think i'll sleep now. maybe #OH ALSO!!! it's very fitting that the last line mentions the downward spiral #because i was thinking of the nin album by that title earlier today #specifically keiji and a certain track. I WILL NOT SAY WHICH TRACK. YOU DO NOT NEED TO KNOW

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dangan-meme-palace · 4 years

Note

Hey, dear! So I have a question. Do you have an opinion on Tenko? (yes more questions because why not) ~Mod Maki

Heya~! I sure do! And don't worry about asking questions cuz I love answering them!

Fair warning: This will be long as fuck.

Tenko

Tenko is a very solid character with very entertaining and interesting traits that set her apart from most of her peers. She also has a plethora of flaws that would've been enjoyable to see her overcome, and no, I'm not just talking about her drooling and her hatred of men.

Speaking positively, Tenko is a very upbeat person who likes to help others and protect them as best she can, not taking dumb risks with her life but also not unwilling to step up for the sake of others if the need arises. She's very passionate and energetic about things and gives her all for the sake of the things she's interested in, proving to be a very dedicated disciple. An unfortunately lesser known fact about her is that she's very sensitive to the emotions of others and can be seen both giving very wise, heartfelt advice to others while trying her best to uplift them or reflecting on their views of her. She has a genuinely interesting and unique past that adds a lot of depth to her character and brings up struggles that you never would have guessed she had. She also expresses interesting points, morals, and concerns relating to the killing game that make it feel as if she is actually immersed in the setting (which a few v3 characters sadly lack.)

Strong in both body and heart, courageously willing to tackle challenges, and earnestly wanting to improve herself with a zeal that few other members of the V3 cast can match; Tenko has a lot of positive qualities that make her likable, if not lovable.

Having said that, she also has quite a few flaws, but I don't think that they detract from her character. In fact, I think they add quite a bit to her– ...most of them anyway. For now though let's just talk what her flaws actually are: Tenko is a loud, gullible, obnoxious girl who is quick to point fingers at people she finds suspicious (usually men) and will casually insult people she doesn't like. She's self conscious about a lot of things, including her looks, her volume, and her rambunctiousness. Most prominently, she's also very, uh, drooly over Himiko.

Her self consciousness, willinglyness to improve, and past are by far the best of her traits, because of the amount of positive potential for development and intrigue they add to her character.

Her parents sent her to her dojo because they didn't want to deal with their annoying daughter, so they sent her away making her extremely self conscious about the way she acts to this day. With the help of her master she tries her best to work on those traits so that she can become the refined and elegant type of woman that she idolizes due to the standards set by her parents.

Obviously she's still a major work in progress, but it's supremely refreshing to see a character that's already working on themselves instead of yet another girl with trauma being fixed by someone else, most likely by falling in love with a man *cough cough Maki cough cough*. I'm a big fan of self improvement stories simply because they're usually shunted to the side in favor of yet another fixer-upper story, and while that's my own preference, it truly does work in Tenko's favor because it makes her seem that much more natural. She has clear motivations that believably influence her personality and flaws with a set path to self improvement that she's already walking and will continue to walk of her own volition for her own sake.

Her drooly-ness is obviously her worst trait, not only because it's based on gross stereotypes or because it makes Himiko uncomfortable, but because if literally goes against the rest of her character. All of her other traits are cohesive and mesh well with each other, but her most defined flaw runs counter to everything she stands for.

She's shown as someone very conscious of the way others view her –to the point of putting herself down when others compliment her– and very intuitive/sensitive to the feelings and thoughts of others. There is no way for Tenko to not have noticed that she was making Himiko uncomfortable and there is no way that Tenko, who is already very self concious about the way she acts and has a character entirely based on improving herself for the sake of that self consciousness, wouldn't stop as soon as she realizes that she's acting the same way she condemns men for acting. It goes against everything her character stands for and all of her core personality traits.

I'm not saying that it should be ignored –because it shouldn't, unwanted advances are definitely something to be critical of– however this inconsistency is definitely something that was shoehorned in to make her into a ~qUiRkY~ character rather than anything born of her canon personality. It's not a trait authentic to Tenko, but rather something tacked on in order to portray a ~wAcKy~ archetype as danganronpa so often loves to do with it's characters.

Wrapping this up, the moments where I think Tenko truly shined and where her traits showcased in the best possible way were when she infiltrated the student council and planned to convince Angie to stop with the help of Shuichi and Maki, the moment when she talks to Shuichi after he takes off his hat and she tells him that she also wants to fulfill Kaede's wish and tells him to never go back on the progress he's made, and of course her FTEs.

The first one because it was an interesting solution to a very valid concern, the second one because it shows off her compassion and empathy better than most scenes with her do, and the third one because it focuses on her past where she is flawed and then the present where she is still working on those flaws, showing both a determination to change and also just adding some really enriching context that explains Why Tenko is The Way She Is in a very well written way.

All in all, I love Tenko for who she is and while I acknowledge that her actions towards Himiko are canon and should definitely be criticized despite any well-meaning intentions she might have had, I don't believe it was core to her character or even in-character in the first place. Tenko, in my eyes, is a girl in the middle of working on herself with a genuinely moving and entertaining in-between phase with flaws that never fails to make me smile with her caring and bright demeanor. I love this girl and genuinely think that she would have been a more compelling, amusing, and fascinating character with better development potential than the survivors of V3 combined.

#asks #tenkido #my thoughts #to edit

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boxoftheskyking · 4 years

Text

Something Good part 3

Here’s part 3. I’m probably getting all the honorifics wrong, but hey

I’m not sold on the title but whatever I can’t keep calling it “I should name it something” forever

(Part 1 & Part 2)

----

I am not afraid of children. Wei Wuxian puts it to a little melody inside his head, but obediently does not sing aloud. I am not, not, not afraid of children.

Sect Leader Lan wasted no time. Wei Wuxian is to gather the children after their morning lessons and take them to eat their lunch, followed by quiet study while their instructor attends an important meeting.

Their instructor, Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian has tried not to think about him too much during his time at Cloud Recesses. It’s too easy to fixate, to wonder which of the robes belong to him (surely none of the muddied and torn ones), which dishes he’d eaten from (obviously leaving not a crumb behind), which door he might be just behind. His younger self would laugh at this hesitation, would do anything he could for just a sliver of that solemn-eyed attention.

But now . . . he’s not sure what would be worse. The look of disgust, hatred, distrust that seems to follow him wherever he goes. Or nothing. A complete lack of recognition. Eyes skittering over his face like light against water, never piercing the surface. Just another servant.

There’s nothing wrong with being a servant, he chides himself. There’s more nobility in Madam Xiao’s bad left knee than in all the Wen gentry put together. And if Second Master Lan doesn’t see that, then he’s just like everybody else. You know who you are, and that’s all that matters. The confidence is false, but at least it feels loud inside his head.

When he reaches the pavilion where the children are finishing their lessons, he’s relieved to find some of them slouching, others chatting, a little one drawing on a scrap of paper. Straight lines of silent children would just be too creepy to handle.

Lan Wangji appears to be waiting for him in the doorway, face as tightly-controlled as ever. He doesn’t bow, of course he doesn’t, but he does incline his head a fraction when Wei Wuxian approaches. It’s not the blank stare he’d dreaded, so he tells himself to be grateful.

“So!” he says as he comes into the door, wrapping his old bravado around his shoulders like a cloak. “What are we dealing with here? How many?”

Lan Wangji opens his mouth for a moment, closes it. Then he seems to remember himself and says, “Eleven.”

“Eleven?” It’s both better and worse than he expected. He’d been dreading an army of tiny Lan’s, but in practice eleven is quite a lot of children. From what he can see, the oldest looks about fourteen and the youngest maybe four.

“Disciples,” Lan Wangji says, and the children fall silent and sit up straight as they can. The little one looks like he might tip over from tensing his shoulders up to his ears. “This is your new caretaker. You will address him as Wei-qianbei. You will behave in a manner befitting disciples of the Lan Clan of Gusu.”

Wei Wuxian steps to the front of the room, flashing them his usual winning smile. “Thank you, Second Master Lan. Will you introduce me to my new charges?”

“They are perfectly capable of telling you their own names,” Lan Wangji says dismissively. “I will be back to collect them for afternoon lessons. Wei Wuxian, a word.”

He follows Lan Wangji’s lead, turning his back on the children, and barely manages to lurch backward as Lan Wangji reaches out for his arm.

“What are you doing?”

Lan Wangji glares. “Just give me your wrist.”

“No! Why? No.” He folds his arms across his chest. It’s foolish, and he knows it. Lan Wangji knows as well as anyone that he has no golden core, that he won’t feel anything when he checks his dantians. But Lan Wangji is all nobility and righteousness, he thinks, a muddled swirl of admiration and anger. He doesn’t deserve to know what emptiness feels like.

“I need to check your resentful energy.��

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. “That’s not how it works, Second Master Lan. If I were to call upon resentful energy it would just come, and then it would be gone when I was done with it. Look, I promise not to do anything evil. And the kids will tell you, right?” He turns back to the waiting room, noticing the older children who are pretending very hard not to eavesdrop. “You’ll tell Hanguang Jun if I do anything evil, right?” He points at a kid who looks around eleven. “You look like a snitch. Hanguang Jun, you can count on this kid.”

The kid is young enough not to look offended. The oldest looking boy raises his hand nervously. Wei Wuxian points at him without waiting for Lan Wangji.

“Are you going to do something evil?”

“What’s your name, kid?”

The kid’s eyes dart around, but the others won’t look at him. “Wen- Wen Qionglin, sir.”

“Wen Qionglin, you trust your sect leader and Second Master Lan, right? They wouldn’t let someone evil look after you. No, you’ve got nothing to worry about. We’ll all be great friends! We’ll have plenty of adventures, learn all kinds of—”

This time he doesn’t manage to dodge Lan Wangji’s grip on his arm. He whirls him back around.

“You are not to teach them anything,” he hisses.

Wei Wuxian laughs in his face. “They are children.”

Lan Wangji tightens his grip on Wei Wuxian’s forearm.

Wei Wuxian sighs. “You teach them every time you talk to them. You show them how to dress and what to wash and what not to say, and you teach them. You walk ahead of them through the woods—” “Then you are not to speak to them. You will not show them what to do or what to say. You will walk behind them.”

It stings, bouncing around the empty place inside him like a stone down a well. It’s not vitriol, exactly, but there’s a fire in Lan Wangji’s eyes that makes half of him want to cower and the other half want to call up an army of spirits and tear down the walls of Cloud Recesses. He lets his eyes close and takes a long, slow breath.

When he opens his eyes, Lan Wangji has leaned in closer, barely a foot away from his face. He slides his hand down Wei Wuxian’s forearm until he reaches his pulse point and watches Wei Wuxian flinch. He doesn’t pull away in horror the way Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue did so many months ago, but a furrow appears between his brows and his lips part just slightly on a shaky inhale. Wei Wuxian images he can hear it echo from deep inside his abdomen.

“I—” Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what to say, so he lets his mouth run away with him as usual. “I’m not afraid of you.”

That serves the purpose of bringing the familiar glare back into place.

“And you don’t mean that, anyway. That’s ridiculous, not talking to the children. If I can’t talk, then I need at least a flute to keep them in order, but that’s officially forbidden. Unless you’d rather I—” he purses his lips and lets out a high, trilling whistle.

Lan Wangji’s eyes go wide and he slaps a hand over Wei Wuxian’s mouth. Wei Wuxian raises both eyebrows as high as they can go. A giggle comes from behind them, and Lan Wangji pulls away sharply, wiping his hand on his sleeve.

Wei Wuxian turns back around, pointedly ignoring the man beside him.

“Okay, charges. First thing to do is learn all your names. It will be difficult, but I’m a confident man. That’s lesson number one—even if you’re not sure what you’re doing, do it with confidence.” He doesn’t turn to watch Lan Wangji storm out of the pavilion.

“Little one, here, you start.”

The littlest child lets his straight-backed posture droop. “I don’t want to be the little one. Jingyi is smaller than me! I’m not the littlest!”

Wei Wuxian holds up his hands. “Whoa, okay. You’re not the littlest. What’s your name, oh big and mighty warrior?”

The girl sitting next to him giggles and the little boy shoots her a glare that he clearly learned from Lan Wangji. “My name is Lan Sizhui. And you are making fun of me.”

“I apologize, Sizhui, I’m just having a little fun. It’s not bad to be small, anyway. You should always know what you are—if you don’t, then how will you become the best version of yourself? You must know your own qualities so that you can use them all to your advantage.”

Seemingly despite himself, little Sizhui leans in a bit. Wei Wuxian continues, encouraged.

“If a tiny frog tries to be a powerful ox and pull a plow through the field, he will only be disappointed. But if he tries to be the very best frog—to hop the highest and croak the loudest and hide so well in the green leaves—well, then he can excel and be satisfied, right?”

There are some murmurs of agreement. “And,” Wei Wuxian continues, “being small can be very useful. It means you’ll be underestimated.”

“Is that a good thing?” the kid he’d dubbed a snitch interrupts.

“Oh yes! In fact—” Before he can finish, there’s a commotion from the corner where an even tinier child scrambles out from behind a curtain.

“I want to be underestimated too!” He crows and promptly trips over his own robes to tumble into Wei Wuxian’s knees. Wei Wuxian gives in to the urge to pick him up and set him on his hip.

“And I’m very sure you will be. Now, young masters and ladies, it’s off to lunch. You can introduce yourselves on the way.”

Part 4, Part 5

#assorted writings #the untamed #everything i write is fucking kidfic #whatever

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xxpadfootxx · 4 years

Text

🐾Playing the Part🐾

Summary: No matter how much he tried to tell himself to snap out of it, no matter how much he internally screamed at his muscles to move, Izuku couldn’t do anything but stand and stare at the villain’s second in command.

~~~

There were not many things that could genuinely shock the famed Number One Hero, Deku. He had been a hero for long enough that even when there was something that surprised him, he could usually hide his expression pretty well, focusing on the task ahead and forcing himself to solve the problem in front of him before dwelling on whatever new discovery had shocked him to begin with.

But for the first time in his life, Izuku Midoriya was frozen, stunned by shock, anger, fear, and confusion as he took in the disastrous scene before him, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, slack jawed. The villain in front of him smiled wickedly, his eyes twinkling as he took in Izuku’s expression.

This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening.

“Well well well, Deku, what do you think? Pretty cool, right?” The villain laughed as he gestured to the woman standing beside him, the woman whom, up until a moment ago, was someone Izuku would’ve trusted with his life.

No matter how much he tried to tell himself to snap out of it, no matter how much he internally screamed at his muscles to move, he couldn’t do anything but stand and stare at the villain’s second in command. She was dressed in black and brown fighting leathers, completely different from her usual brightly colored, flowy blouses and t-shirts. Her rosy cheeks had been dusted over with a pale foundation, making her face darker and less cheery. Her hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail, only a single strand of her gorgeous chocolate brown hair hanging in front of her face, the piece having come loose in the midst of all of the fighting.

Ochako Uraraka. The woman he was best friends with. The woman he had grown up with and gone to school with. The woman who had told him years ago that she planned on becoming a hero to give her family a better life. The woman he was deeply in love with.

“Hello Deku,” Ochako said, her voice unusually cold and clipped, her lips parting into a terrified smile that made shivers run up and down Izuku’s spine. “Long time no see.”

Izuku’s mouth opened and closed several times as he fought to find his words. How could this happen? This could not be happening! He wanted this to just be some horrible dream so badly; to wake up and find himself curled around her peacefully sleeping form. But here she was, staring him down with eyes as sharp as daggers, blood dripping from the sword she held in her right hand, the blade glinting as she tilted it threateningly in his direction.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Ochako sneered, her red painted nails gleaming in the sun as she gripped the handle of her weapon harder.

Gulping, Izuku finally managed to speak.

“W-What? W-Why?” Izuku closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Why are you doing this? What have you done?”

Ochako laughed at his questions, her wicked smile widening.

“Why? You’re asking me why? How pathetic, you really don’t know what to do with yourself do you? I’m doing this because this is who I am. I have always felt that this world needed fixing, and although in my youth I was too naive to see it, I have come to realize in my adulthood that violence is the only way to truly cause change.”

“What are you talking about!? You are not the Ochako I know! The Ochako I know has always been loving and kind, gently talking to people and learning about their problems, fighting for a world of peace! The Ochako I know is the sweetest person on this planet, she would never do something like this!” Izuku yelled, his voice strained with desperation.

“Wow, you really are stupid, Izuku,” Ochako said in a frigid tone that stabbed at Izuku’s heart like a spear. “The Ochako you’re talking about never existed. The life you have been living is nothing more than a lie. It’s pitiful really, how easily you fell into my trap. You were so willing to lay yourself down for me, to do anything I asked for no matter the repercussions, I almost feel sorry for you.”

Izuku gaped at her, his words caught in his throat once more.

“But in the end, I guess I could just never push away my true self. This image of me you see before you, this is who I am, and this is who I will always be. I have come to realize in my time with you how ignorant the heroes of this society are, pushing for a world of peace while torturing and killing the villains of this world, oftentimes harming them beyond repair, crippling them for life or sentencing them to a life of damnation. No world like that is worth fighting for,” Ochako said, her eyes glinting as she looked right at him, seemingly staring right into his soul.

Izuku could feel his heart being ripped to shreds, tears dripping from the corners of his eyes as her words slapped him over and over again. This couldn’t be true. This had to be some elaborate scheme, some sick joke to mess with him.

But in his heart he knew. This was no joke. Everything he was seeing, everything he was feeling, was real. He felt his knees buckle, the pressure of this particular realization too much for him. He landed on the ground, his head in his hands, not caring that the enemy could easily strike him down while he was not paying attention. He didn’t have the strength to look up anymore.

“Y-You used me…,” Izuku mumbled into his hands, more tears flowing down his cheeks.

“Obviously.”

Her crass response made him cringe, his sobs becoming audible enough to bounce off of the surrounding debris. His best friend, his seemingly perfect lover, they were gone, reduced to nothing but the form of hatred and death that stood before him. The original villain he had been fighting stood off to the side, keeping silent with a vicious smile on his face as he watched the scene unfold before him. Watching the great, unmatched hero Deku break.

“None of it was real? Your loving words? Your sweet nature? Your warm kisses and hugs? You meant none of it?” Izuku sobbed out, his hands still covering his face.

Silence was his response for a moment, until he felt a warm breath brush against his ear, causing him to shiver. He hadn’t even heard her come up to him.

“It was for the best,” Ochako whispered to him, ignoring him as his cries got louder. “But do not worry my love, the pain will all be over soon.”

Izuku had just enough time to look into her eyes, alarm and somehow even more shock flowing through his system at the implication of her words before he felt the cool bite of the blade sink into his chest. Izuku let out a gasp, his arms involuntarily wrapping around her waist, her own free hand coming up to grasp his collar.

Izuku choked a bit, blood spilling from his wound before he let out one last shaky breath, his eyes rolling back into his head as his form went limp. Ochako watched the light leave his eyes before standing up, releasing his collar from her grasp so his body hit the ground with a heavy thump.

Staring down at his prone form, Ochako’s eyes followed every curve of his now relaxed body before coming to rest on his lips. Leaning down, Ochako splayed her palm across his chest, the lack of his beating heart thumping against her hand causing her heart to flutter lightly. Narrowing her eyes, Ochako leaned forward and pressed her lips to his still ones, her heart fluttering even more at the lack of a reaction. He was normally so eager to kiss her back, the lack of movement was a clear sign to his death.

Removing herself after a moment of basking in the glow of her lover’s death; sharing their final kiss, Ochako smiled at the red lipgloss she left smeared on his lips. Reaching over, Ochako used her fingers to delicately close the lids on his lifeless eyes, her lips parted slightly.

“Goodbye, my dear Deku, sleep well,” She whispered with a light chuckle, continuing to kneel by his side as she felt her boss move up beside her. The villain remained silent, allowing her to mourn in her own, sick, twisted way.

“CUT!”

As soon as that loud declaration sounded, Ochako went to remove herself from Izuku’s body when he reached around suddenly and pulled her back down, silencing her protest with a kiss to her lips.

Ochako giggled when they parted, opening her eyes again to see her husband staring right back at her, his eyes shining brightly. She leaned down once more and gave him a quick peck on the lips before rolling off of him to talk to their director, who was making his way to them with a smile on his face.

“Perfect! Absolutely stunning performance by the two of you! It almost felt real!” Their director raved as he padded up to them, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“Thank you Iida, it was your idea to have that twist at the end,” Ochako said, leaning down to help Izuku up from where he had crumbled to the floor during their performance.

Iida shook his head, his blue locks swaying as he did so.

“It doesn’t matter that I thought of the idea, you two were the ones who brought it to life. Good work to the both of you.”

“Thank you,” Izuku said, wrapping an arm around Ochako’s waist and pulling her against him, smiling at the small squeak she released at the contact.

Iida smiled at them before glancing at the clock.

“I think we have what we need, you two are dismissed for the day.”

The pair thanked him again before rushing out to their car, eager to head home after a long day of filming for their newest upcoming movie, a film about heroes and villains in a fight for survival.

“You know, if we hurry, we can pick up Ryoko from school,” Izuku said as they situated themselves in the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot to the studio.

“Ooooh! Yeah, let’s go surprise her!” Ochako said.

Izuku and Ochako Midoriya loved their jobs as famous actors but hated the fact that it took up so much of their time. They were a family now, and they wanted to spend more time together. Unfortunately, their talent on the big screen oftentimes led to long periods of time away from their precious little daughter, forcing them to hire a nanny to collect their daughter from school and watch her until they could come back home in the evening.

The pair chatted idly as they made their way to their daughter’s school, both of them excited to see their little girl. Izuku drove a little faster than normal, eager to make it there on time. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, both of them were practically trembling in their seats, their eyes scanning the schoolyard.

“There!” Ochako murmured to her husband, pointing at a small girl with bright green hair and brown eyes, her gaze fixed on a praying mantis on the sidewalk, not paying attention to the cars moving through the lot. Clearing his throat, Izuku smiled and rolled down his window.

“Ryoko!”

The little girl snapped her head up before her whole face broke into the world’s brightest smile, scrambling to her feet to rush at the car.

“Mommy! Daddy!” She squealed.

Izuku and Ochako got out of the car, ignoring the stares of the people around them who recognized them from their movies and focused solely on their daughter as she sprinted at them. They both held their arms out for her and caught the squirming little girl as she launched into their arms with a joyful laugh, her tiny arms wrapping around their necks to hold onto them as tightly as she could.

Both of her parents embraced her in a giant hug, nuzzling her face and neck as she giggled, their hearts threatening to burst. They may work hard and they were definitely busy, but they never got tired of spending time with their daughter and her happiness was well worth their time. Coaxing the energetic girl into the car to head home, Izuku and Ochako gave each other a quick kiss before following suit and entering the vehicle, eager to spend the rest of the afternoon with the whole family together.

“I’ll call the nanny on the way home, let her know we’ve got Ryoko,” Ochako said as she buckled herself in.

“Perfect, thank you,” Izuku said glancing over at his amazing wife. “Hey, Ochako?”

“Yeah?” She asked, giving him her undivided attention.

Izuku swooped in and gave her a kiss on the lips, humming when she responded passionately and smiling when he heard his daughter make vomiting sounds from the backseat at their displays of affection.

“I love you,” Izuku said with a smile. “I know we play a whole variety of roles but I will always love you and you will always be my number one, remember that.”

Ochako smiled at him and cupped his cheek lovingly.

“I love you too, and the same goes for you, mister,” Ochako teased before pulling back to call the nanny, Izuku setting the car in drive to go back home, ready to spend the rest of his day playing his favorite role of all, a loving husband and father.

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