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danketsuround · 4 months

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sunday six!

early again (late for me, but). i wrote this on tumblr while waiting for a package that hasn't arrived yet. tagging uhhh @four-white-trees @c-cw-f-saeko @overdevelopedglasses @fire-tempers-steel @passthroughtime and uh i forgot who else is participating in this

sawa and mitsuru one shot below. not an au, they're just in high school. i was complaining earlier today about how they didn't get to interact at all (like, not even in a flashback???) so like whatever i wrote my own thing. be the change you want to see in the world. kthnxbye

Past a road on a steel bridge, among little fossils in a river, there was a mound of green grass, and two bikes laying diagonally atop each other. Mitsuru laid there in the sun, craning his neck upwards to look at their chains, tangled like legs under a blanket. He sighed and let his head drop against the ground. It made a sound much heavier than him.

"Mind your head," pretty Sawa seemed to scold him, as if he were some infant with a soft spot in his skull. She had the nerve to speak to him so dearly, even as he twisted the grass between his fingers in anxious sorrow.

"It didn't hurt," he said, not bothering to look up again.

Her little patent leather shoes hit rocks. She had been balancing on a log near the river. He heard the gravel under her feet, then the grass, and then the sun disappeared.

"You have a grass stain on your shirt."

A halo of light hit her backside. Had he prayed more, he thought, maybe the angel would say something useful, or kind.

"That's okay," he replied shyly. She was tall; tall enough to call the sun again when she sat beside him.

They had biked from the train station—as most high schoolers did—recklessly, without their helmets. Sawa lived three doors down and across from him, in a smaller, gated house, with a nice windowsill tomato garden and an old dog with a hoarse bark. Despite this, they never saw each other. Better yet, Mitsuru never saw her. He kept his head down and looked at his feet like his shoes were in danger of catching on fire at any moment. He was quick-footed, too, despite his chronic tardiness—or, perhaps, because of it. Sawa held onto his arm in the sardine-packed commute of the sweaty summer afternoon rush. She didn't let go when the doors opened, or when they squeezed out of the car, or when they took the escalator down; and she didn't say a word to him at all until Mitsuru found he had locked his bike next to hers, and suddenly it seemed his feet were safe of any interesting fires. She wanted to tutor him.

"No thanks," he told her, then frowned when tall and pretty Sawa made an angry wrinkled face like she was going to chew him.

In the long hour they walked their bikes together, he discovered her face was stuck like that, always, even when she smiled. He thought, that's probably why no one messed with her, and why she won the student council election by a landslide. It was the first day of the second semester and they came to the knoll, together.

"Are you eighteen already?" Sawa asked him out of air, watching the sun lower behind the old bridge.

Mitsuru shook his head into the dirt.

"Are you?"

"I turned eighteen over the summer."

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

Then it was quiet again when Mitsuru started thinking about sitting at the dinner table with a grass stain on his shirt, and his mother with her eyes on some stack of papers he couldn't read.

"I'm still a kid compared to you."

"I guess."

"You can vote, and take out a loan, and apply for a credit card, and stuff."

"I can't drink yet."

For some reason, she defended herself.

"But you're closer," he argued anyways. "And you're taller than me."

She laughed. "Age doesn't have much to do with that."

He looked at her and, for some reason, he grew excited.

"Do you think I'll grow ten centimeters by winter?"

"No," she said, which sounded cruel coming from her chewy face. "Or, I guess you'll have to wait and see."

"Yeah, I'll wait," he said sadly. "I'll wait."

She loosened her clip and pulled her fingers through the bend in her hair. Being a girl seemed really hard, but, like most things, Sawa did it effortlessly. He hadn't noted much about her, but he knew she played the cello, and that she played it beautifully. She could have played a stand-out instrument—the violin like Mamiya, or the flute, like himself, which stood-out in terrible, shrill ways—but she played the low, humming background of an instrument and she played it better than anyone else. Her kindness was the same, her voice played a pitying, slow tune.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

He imagined she asked because she, a grown up, already knew.

"A nurse."

"A nurse!"

Admittedly, her shock stung a little.

"That's just the first thing that came to mind. I want to work in a hospital, like my mom."

Sawa tucked her legs in. "Is she worried about exams?"

He wrinkled his face taking another blow, then shook his head in an uncaring way.

"No, she doesn't worry about me," he said. "She thinks I can do anything."

"You can do anything."

Mitsuru shrugged. "I don't know."

"You can play the flute pretty well."

"I don't know."

"And you can swim pretty well, too."

"I don't know. I hate swimming."

She leaned forward. "Do you like being a nurse? Don't say you don't know."

His answer was silence instead.

"What do you want to be?"

She held her breath. Her face was red and puffy and she laughed when she couldn't hold it any longer. On her back, next to Mitsuru, she said, "I don't know."

Mitsuru scrambled to his feet while Sawa held her stomach, spitting and laughing and hitting the ground with her legs.

"Well!" He said stridently. "Then! Then, then! Why'd you make me pick!"

When she finally calmed down, she said, "I want to know more about you, Kusumoto."

That was a damn good answer—better than one he could ever give. The sun had mostly set, leaving gradients of pink and yellow, which settled starkly under the coming twilight. He stuck out his hand for her to take it; his actions were bold but he was red in the face, redder than Sawa's spitting laughter.

"I want to go home now," he said. "And do my laundry."

"Okay." She took his hand but pulled herself up by her legs. They untangled their bikes and she motioned putting on an invisible helmet, then she led the way because her house was a block further than his.

On their bikes, Mitsuru yelled, "Maybe you should be a teacher."

"Maybe," she yelled back.

"I'd like to see that." He was smiling but she couldn't see. "Sawa-sensei."

#sunday six #judgement #rgg

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scatteredpiecesofme · 2 years

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Between Darkness and Light

We all noticed the change in lighting in the 4-minute snippet but I didn't connect it with Edvin's repetitive statement about the season being darker until now. Or better, I didn't realize that this change in lighting goes in the exact opposite direction to the change in tone that S2 is supposed to display.

S1 gave us a lot of scenes in a very dim light, usually in a warm yellow-ish tone, and yet many of them didn't feel 'dark' at all. They rather felt cozy, intimate and warm (thinking of some happy domestic scenes at the Eriksson's, the intimate Wilmon scenes, and many others) in a sort of reversed parallel between the lighting and the general mood.

What I'm wondering now is: what if in S2 they're doing the same, but the other way round?

After the dream sequence, the first thing we see is an evidently depressed Wilhelm. What colors would you instinctively associate with depression? Dark ones, right? He's alone, sorrowful, disappointed and angry. He's lost everything. We might expect a shadowy room and a gloomy and suffocating atmosphere. But what do we get instead? The sun. Brilliant colors. A very bright room, flooded with daylight. And that's what I love in YR: they never make the obvious choice, they always go for something different. The Eriksson's house is shown ina bright diffused light too, suggesting that this might be a theme of the season, or at least not something only related to Wilhelm.

The thing is, by the end of S1 everyone showed their true colors, either in a good or in a bad sense.

All the five main characters have been somehow exposed - to us the audience and to the other characters. It's not just about Wilmon and the leaked video, despite this being the main focus.

Felice, contrary to the first impression, turned out to be a good friend and a kind-hearted person. August confirmed to be an unreliable douchebag full of personal unresolved issues. Simon demonstrated that he can and will stand for himself and set boundaries. We witness Sara making a deal with the devil to obtain what she wants. And then there's Wille. His intimacy, his body, his love exposed to the world. But also his essence, who he really is, what he really wants, what he's ready to do, finally revealed to himself in a newly-found awareness.

In S2 there's no more hiding. No matter how much betrayal, pain, revenge plans and shit are going to happen. No matter the darkness of it all. None of them can hide their true selves from the others anymore and, more important, from themselves. They have to face their own flaws, their own needs, their own choices. Their own actions. It's about knowing - and showing - where they stand.

No more hiding. Dark times are ahead, but all the cards have been laid on the table. In plain sight. In plain light.

Before it gets better it's going to get worse. Things are going to go down. Badly. Especially for Wilhelm who's not even trying to hide his intentions. And when he - and maybe also someone else? - will be going through his darkest moments, this new, bright, merciless light will do nothing but emphasize it by contrast in a piercing, almost painful way.

(reality check: I have no fucking idea. i'm just speculating because it's fun. but I guess I got carried away a bit? sorry. please don't mind me)

#not sure if it makes sense #I'm just taking wild guesses #now watch them use this lighing only in those 2 initial scenes and never again in the whole 6 episodes LOL #can't wait to see the actual use of light and colors in S2 #young royals #yr #young royals analysis #young royals s2

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faetedforglory · 2 years

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🎀 (Nanu)

memory lane -- a childhood memory

It was that time of year again. Nanu heard a lot of kids in the school talking about Father's Day, what they were making for their fathers for it. He felt weird when the teacher had given them a set period of time to make cards or whatever they wanted to surprise their dads and Nanu just. . . Sat there. Even more so when he was asked why he wasn't doing anything and had to say he didn't have a father.

There were questions blurted out before the teacher got the class back on task, all of them things he'd thought. Why didn't he have a dad? Where was he? Why didn't he actually have a stable father figure in his life and only his mother's very brief affairs where the men, if they ever met the kids, only did so once or twice? Why? What happened?

He wasn't really listening to whatever she was talking about. He thought it was something about how Ripleys were so powerful and deserved this and that-- boring stuff that never sat well with him. Nanu looked up at her, she was in her own world too, going on and on. She wasn't going to stop and let him speak, was she?

"Where is my dad?" Nanu interrupted bluntly.

She froze and stared at him for a few moments. He didn't understand her expression. She didn't seem sad or upset. But it wasn't as if she was happy about the question either.

"It doesn't matter, my sweet boy," suddenly she was all smiles and doting, a hug and she even lightly booped his nose. "You have me. I'm all you need."

Nanu felt like she didn't want him to ask again. But why couldn't she just answer the question? "I know. But everyone else has a dad. Why don't I?"

Her smile fell. It was brief but she wasn't happy and Nanu had seen it despite her efforts to recover. If anything she did seem upset now, but almost angry.

She sighed. "He's gone," she said. "He died before you were born."

Nanu nodded. He wanted to believe her. But there was something in him that felt like he shouldn't. It felt like she was lying. But why would his mother lie to him?

"Oh."

And she was back again with arms wrapped around him, petting his hair as if to soothe him. "I didn't want to tell you yet, darling. But it's okay. I'm all you need. I love you so much."

Why did that. . . Not feel right? Why did her babbling of adoration make him feel guilty and bad for asking the more she went on and on?

"You know how much I love you, I love you more than enough for two parents. Now, let's not bring up this silly father thing again, okay? I am all you will ever, ever need and it hurts to talk about. You don't want to hurt me, do you?"

Maybe there was something wrong with him. She was his mother. She loved him. She would never lie to him.

So why did he feel so awful?

"I'm sorry." nanu whispered softly, voice hoarse as he felt his eyes sting.

Why did he feel like this? Why did he ask something that would hurt her? Was. . . Was he bad for asking?

#tellnxlies #( headcanon. )#manipulation tw #abuse tw #{Just in case}#{Also damn she really does just get worse and worse}

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ialwaysknewyouwerepunk · 3 years

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fine line - a close reading

gonna cry bc i’m at the end, gonna cry bc it’s fine line.

(x x x)

want to give the same disclaimer as with lights up: this song is so layered, so multi-faceted, that i could never hope to give an exhaustive analysis. due to its vagueness and openness for interpretation, i assume that everyone, just like me, has their own ideas about it and has attached importance to it in ways that no one else’s words can or should alter. this song means the world to me for reasons that aren’t necessarily in this post, and that’s how it is with art that touches us deeply. i’ve tried my best to pull it apart, lay it bare, spread it open, if you will, so it’s almost as free as it can be for you all to form your own opinion on it. in the synthesis i will make my own conclusions, but feel free to ignore that if yours are totally different. i’m just one set of brain and heart taking in fine line and projecting whatever i think is right onto it. alright, let’s go

fine line, track 12

sung in falsetto

live version at the form: first verse not sung in falsetto - after first chorus goes into falsetto - like “thinking of her” has summoned her

Put a price on emotion

pouring emotions into the art you create: how much is genuine / how much do you show - line between being authentic to your audience and giving away too much, wanting to keep things to yourself and not feeling truthful with what you’ve written

exploits of the industry: lay your soul bare - or the exact opposite, some pretend emotion - to score that hit

I'm looking for something to buy

cynical. emotions aren’t genuine, right? where can i go buy some?

～ lights up themes. fake life, industry, being a sell-out

You've got my devotion

But man, I can hate you sometimes

“you” = career, music, Harry Styles™. devoted to the craft, to the job, all the ups and downs of it, despite the hardships it brings

“man” is deliberate: can be seen as an offhand interjection, like “man, that’s rough”, but nothing is casually placed in this song. “man” is: The Man, the heads in the industry, the people pulling the strings. The man in Harry, the man he’s been in the media all these years, the part he’s played/had to play, the man that’s in him

⟶ “hate you”: hate for industry shit, self-hate created by having to play pretend (～ only angel analysis, the persona of the Bukowski womaniser)

“sometimes” - it’s not fucked up all the time

“you” could also be a lover, but the sudden “hate” there then would be for that person, which is absent in any other song about them, doesn’t make any sense

I don't want to fight you

And I don't want to sleep in the dirt

like there’s a choice to me made, but he doesn’t want to make it: either I fight this “you” or I sleep in the dirt

“you” as the industry: if he doesn’t fight them, he might end up being a beggar, lose all his self-worth bc he gave in to everything they asked/told him to do

“you” as himself: fight your instincts, part of who you are/the persona. if he doesn’t fight to figure himself out, though, he fears he’ll also lose

“sleep in the dirt” as a sense of rejection, as well

We'll get the drinks in

So I'll get to thinking of her

drinks to cope - falling, only angel, from the dining table - or to be braver and confront emotions better - tbsl

who is “we”? who is “her”?

narrative of “you” as “lover” further disproven: if “I” and the lover get together over drinks and “I” starts thinking of “her”?

⟷ “her” could be the lover, but then who is “you”? the industry? some other person, besides that lover, harry is devoted to? multiple lovers, all of a sudden? no.

⟶ “I” and “you” are all harry, that get to thinking of “her” because she is in daydreams with him. the narrative that harry is fighting a part of him, the persona he has (had) to play bc of industry limits, makes most sense. that persona is within him now, and part of his work, but all of him, “we”, is begging to come into the light - of which she is a huge part

We'll be a fine line

balancing act. let everything coexist but pay attention that those lines don’t get crossed the wrong way. what we are, what i am, is a fine line between what makes us go under and what lets us thrive

we will be: determination to fulfil this prophecy, statement of fact “we always will be”

“we’ll be a fine line”: other way of interpreting it is that on both sides of that line is what entails “we”, all that is harry. what merges on that fine line is where it’s just right, when harry is fully himself in every way

“fine line” can also be an echo of criticism, bigotry, in the style of: it’s a fine line between being simply flamboyant and queer, between dressing like that and people thinking you’re a transvestite or summat (cause we wouldn’t want that, now, would we) - “we’ll be a fine line” could be owning all of it. putting himself in the middle of all those messy lines, as someone queer without a category

Test of my patience

patience with himself - kindness to self - took a long time to figure shit out and it was a challenge

waiting for change: industry and its allowances/openness

There's things that we'll never know

my favorite line

“we” = harry / harry and company / us in general, all of us listening

～ tpwk “i don’t need all the answers”: deep sense of acceptance

peace to be found in accepting this!!

You sunshine, you temptress

“sunshine” - as in all the love songs (blue skies, sunflowers, summer days…): lover - possible that there are multiple “you”s in this song?

sunshine could ofc also be directed at the temptress, still

female “temptress” - “i’ll get to thinking of her” - she - it’s tempting for harry to think of her all the time, to lose himself in the “her” in him

other interpretation for “temptress”: woman he knows with negative influence in his life - resemblance to woman “you flower, you feast”, so echo of Bukowski ～ only angel, kiwi (my sunshine, my love, who is involved with this temptress…)

My hand’s at risk, I fold

⟷ tpwk “dropping into the deep end”

not showing his cards just yet / forfeits

anxious to show all of him, to take the chance, with all the risks and consequences involved

Crisp trepidation

I’ll try to shake this soon

nervousness, anxiety - about (not) taking (enough) chances, (not) laying himself bare (release of the album that reveals much more than before)

“crisp” fresh, this feeling is unfamiliar - change is coming “soon”

sense of agency: I can get rid of this feeling by my own volition and make these changes - hesitant, insecure: “try”

wants to be braver. he’s not going back, but still needs to calmly coax himself further and further into the light, out into the open (“we’ll be alright”)

Spreading you open

Is the only way of knowing you

(can anyone else hear “spread thin” like a whisper under “spreading”? or am i imagining things.)

“you” is back - the only way of knowing “you” is to spread them open - the physical

to spread someone open - very literal, don’t need to paint the picture, or to lay bare, to lay it all out

⟶ “you” as himself - the only way of knowing who i am is by doing this: writing this album, performing these songs, letting others listen in and form their own interpretations, let this world grow where i’m laid bare and OPEN and exist as this person who has issues, who is angry, who doesn’t know who he is a lot of the time, but is still so happy to be here - let it spread and let it all circle back to me so i can grow deeper into myself

We'll be a fine line

We'll be alright

“we” = h & self, h & lover, h & fans

collectiveness from tpwk

(notes on a piano sounding like drops, like he’s emerged from the water and dripping dry)

SYNTHESIS

Everything about this song is plural. Personal pronouns are all over the place. I, you, her, we. The sound is incredibly layered, with Harry’s own voice echoing through its verses like he’s singing to himself in an empty cave. Meanings can be attached to every word like it’s a wax tablet used too many times. What Harry has said in interviews for once holds pretty true to the actual meaning, in my opinion.

“It felt like it described to me the process of making it and how the album felt in terms of the different kinds of songs on it.” (Capital FM)

This can mean a lot of things, and I think it means all of the things, of course. It means Fine Line is a summary of all of his emotions he visited on the album, of the things he’s laid bare. And it means that the actual process was also described, as one that can be frustrating and challenging, with added industry shit.

Harry has expressed straightforward gratefulness to his label for "leaving (him) alone” while making the album and that speaks volumes. This time, he had the chance to make his art without the constant interference of a label, which meant he could weave in criticism as well. “Put a price on emotion” is first and foremost a critique on the industry. It’s the first line of the song, setting the tone for the interpretation of this song is about the risks I took while making this album. It involves criticism on an industry that creates such an atmosphere that only a certain type of music and artist breaks through or can be successful, that limits people in their personal expression. Convinces them that it’s better that way. That it’s better to hide who they love because the general public won’t accept them. That it’s better to create a song about a fake emotion than be honest. Harry loves writing songs and being on stage, but it’s taken a while for him to be fully comfortable there as a solo artist and bloom into the person that could make Fine Line. He loves his career, but it’s also limited his freedom in ways beyond our comprehension, and it’s exploited him to the point where he didn’t know who he was, in ways that have clearly taken a toll on his mental wellbeing. To a point where he finishes this album reassuring himself, most of all, that everything will be alright.

That process of making Fine Line obviously includes Harry confronting emotions he hadn’t before. He has stated that he experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows while making it. There are things he hates, he was fighting but doesn’t want to (anymore), uncertainties he was trying to figure out but had to accept he couldn’t, risks he still doesn’t know he can take without shaking. At the centre of it all is this sense of “knowing you.” The different personal pronouns in the song paint a fractured picture, which is ultimately deliberate. That the “you” Harry is devoted to and can hate sometimes doesn’t line up with “her,” that the end focus does seem to be this “you” that is mentioned in the same breath as “man” and “temptress,” forming the “we” together with “I”.

After having songs like Lights Up, She, Falling and even TPWK, one of the central themes on the album has undoubtedly been self-discovery, in all its pain and glory. There are no female pronouns on the album besides, obviously, in She, and then here, in Fine Line. She is about a man living with a woman “just in his head”, who “sleeps in his bed while he plays pretend.” It is very clearly a trans narrative, the story of someone struggling to put into words what they’re experiencing in terms of gender. To a point that they fantasise about running away. Fine Line brings the ideas of knowing what it all means, which Lights Up kicks off (“do you know who you are?”), Falling deepens (“what am I now?”) and Treat People With Kindness turns on its head (“I don’t need all the answers”), together. Harry is still doubtful, and the questions asked earlier in the album haven’t disappeared, but he has accepted that “some things we’ll never know.” His aim, however, is still “knowing you.”

To have Fine Line, as the summary of these emotions of self-growth and self-discovery, echo that one female pronoun, speaks volumes. It is a direct reference to She, to that story about gender. “Her” in this song refers to “she (who) lives in daydreams with (him).” The one who still only fully comes out when they’ve had a drink. The one he’s still working to include in who he is, as he tries to figure out who he is, all of it. The song where he sings in falsetto, just like on Fine Line. Of which he sang the first verse an octave lower live at the forum, switching between those voices, those perspectives. That’s also why “you” in this song is also Harry to me. We get this fractured sense of self, this “I” and “you” conversing over a drink, this “you” Harry is devoted to and wants to figure out. “You” and “I” form “we” and all of them are Harry. The lines are blurry on purpose, there is no way to figure out where “you” ends and “I” begins.

“You sunshine, you temptress” is the most enigmatic line in that respect, and to me blurs those lines even more between the pronouns. “You” is suddenly also identified by a female noun. And no this isn’t about some kind of love triangle. “Sunshine” aligns with all the odes to his lover in the rest of the album. So what does that mean? That there are multiple “you”s in this song, meaning that Harry is addressing both his lover and a temptress? So “her” he’ll get to thinking of, the only other female pronoun used in the song, is identified as a temptress, but tempting to do what? To take risks? And no I won’t forget the “man, I can hate you sometimes,” where "man” is not a casual interjection but an identifier of “you.”

Or is it an echo of “the light” from Golden’s “bring me back to the light” and Light’s Up’s “step into the light”? So that the “sunshine” symbolises being in the clear, being out of the darkness running through his heart, the darkness caused by not knowing who you are. “You sunshine,” you beacon of light. “You temptress,” risk-taker and source of anxiety. You, one I need to spread open to figure out, to know about, source of happiness and despair, one I’m devoted to but also hate. You, man, you, temptress. You there, in the mirror looking back at me.

All of you, and myself included, we’ll be a fine line. And we’ll be alright.

This song is about all of that. The self in art, the self on its own, the other, the journey, the chances, the fears, the passion. Hope. Reassurance. Confidence. And, most importantly, that everything will be alright in the end.

read all my lyric analyses here

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babyybitchhh · 4 years

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This is the anon who commented about yami! I didn't like nozel at first but I can't lie, he kinda grew on me and he's fine asf. I couldn't look at magna in anyway until I saw him with his hair down. Now I'm like 👀👀👀. More than anything, I just want yami to ruin me. Spank me and call me a good girl pleaseee

Yessssssss

Yami was BUILT to be daddy. So strong, so rough around the edges but with a big soft heart, so beefy 💗🥴💗

Words: 3937

Warnings: daddy kink, alcohol, drunk fingering, vaginal fingering

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172960

❤️❤️❤️❤️

You probably should have known better than to start drinking with them. No, not probably. You definitely should have known better.

Hindsight was always twenty-twenty though, and you could see now just how grievous a mistake it had been to accept Vanessa’s invitation without stopping long enough to consider the consequences but, well ... she was one of the only other women in the squad and she seemed to like you well enough. You wanted her to keep liking you, of course. So you’d foolishly jumped at the chance, far too eager to be included in this decidedly unorthodox team bonding exercise of theirs.

The Black Bulls were, by nature, sufficiently rowdy enough on their own but adding alcohol to the mix only seemed to fan the flames. They were the very definition of unruly. Clothes had been shamelessly discarded, more cigarettes smoked than you would have thought possible, arguments over nothing at all turned heated with alarming frequency only to be immediately forgotten and you, you were stuck in the middle of it. Thoroughly lost in your own world and floating serenely through the hazy bog of consciousness without a second thought to what chaos was going on around you.

It was kind of nice, actually. Liberating.

“Remember, ya’ gotta’ have at least three matching pairs to discard,” Magna reminds the assembled party as he quickly deals out a fresh hand. “Or you can do the same suit if ya’ want, but it has to go in order. No incomplete sets.”

The worse for wear table everyone had initially gathered around started off cramped, a tight fit for so many people and with little elbow room to spare. As the night wore on, however, most of the plucky squadron had gradually called it quits and retired until eventually only four remained. You were proud of yourself for outlasting the others but you also knew just how in over your head you were with this particular group. Yami could likely drink anyone under the table and Magna appeared to keep up with him just fine. While Vanessa didn’t exactly hold her liquor well , she could certainly put it away. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you were on your last leg here even if you were, for all intents and purposes, having a good time.

“Alright, lets see what ya’ got.”

Feeling simultaneously as light as a feather and sluggish under the weight of heavy, invisible chains, you slowly flip your cards over. It was hard to tell which way was up anymore, especially when your inner vertigo was so off kilter. You were warm, too. Almost unbearably so. Clammy in the worst possible way and you teeter forward in your chair, struggling to focus your swimming vision on the cards spread out in front of you.

It was a shit hand.

Grumbling under your breath, you distractedly tug at your clothes. A soft, fitful whine claws its way up your throat when it does absolutely nothing to alleviate just how stiflingly hot you are and, in fact, only seems to make it worse. You were absolutely burning up and this card game was its own special brand of torture, you decide with nothing short of woozy contempt.

“What the hell’s your problem?” Yami asks mildly from his spot beside you.

He was infuriatingly collected despite having consumed even more alcohol than you had, guzzling down mouthful after mouthful while you’d taken your time sipping on the fruity concoctions Vanessa made special just for you. You’d lost track of how many cups he’d emptied quite some time ago but you were still only on your third. It didn’t make sense. How were you so damn tipsy already?

“Hot.” You groan, not bothering to look up from what was possibly the worst hand you could have been dealt. Letting Magna shuffle the deck was, unsurprisingly, yet another mistake to add to the ever growing list.

Turning his head, Yami glances over at you and you catch the movement from your peripheral but still refuse to divert your attention from the cards. Maybe if you just stared at them long enough, hard enough, they’d morph into something you could actually use. You weren’t a magic knight in name only, right? Surely your grimoire was good for something .

“You’re drunk.” He suddenly announces, loud enough to make Vanessa whip her head around.

“M’not.” You grumble.

“Bullshit.”

The inebriated witch inserts herself into the fray before you can respond, wrapping slender arms around your shoulders and pulling you in against her bosom. “Awww, honey! Did’ju really like my drinks that much?” She coos at you sweetly. “I wasn’t tryin’ to get you drunk. Promise.”

“M’not drunk.” You insist, louder this time, much to Vanessa’s giggling amusement.

Heaving a clipped sigh, Yami leans across the table and taps your cards with a thick finger, slowly drawing your attention back to them. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” He says around the cigarette in his mouth. “But someone who isn’t piss drunk would probably know better than to lay their hand out on the table like this. Do you even know what game we’re playing right now?”

Mouth tugging into a frown, you wrack your muddled brain for the answer to that question. “Go fish?”

Magna inelegantly snorts at that. You can feel yourself starting to flush in embarrassment as Vanessa begins fussing over you, softly petting your head with murmured, nonsensical endearments. She definitely wasn’t helping matters and you sincerely hoped none of them could see your fluster.

Yami doesn’t seem to miss it though and he purses his lips, pinning you with an unimpressed glower. “That’s what I thought. Sorry, sweetheart, but you’re officially cut off. No more booze tonight, okay?”

Both you and Vanessa groan in unison. Your head immediately starts to spin in earnest now and you slump against the other woman even as she grabs your drink and holds it up to you as if she were bottle feeding a baby. The notion that she might accidentally dump it all over your head when she was just as intoxicated as you doesn’t even cross your mind and you obediently open your mouth to accept her offering.

“Come on, captain! At least let her finish her dr-drink first! I worked really hard to -”

Yami cuts across her babbling with a huff, standing and grabbing hold of the cup so he can pull it away despite Vanessa’s best attempt to keep it in her fumbling grasp. You watch it go, feeling an odd mix of disappointment and relief. The giddy, jovial mood you’d been imbued with was nice, yes, but realistically your body probably couldn’t handle much more. It was likely for the best.

“Just knock it off.” Pointedly setting the drink down towards the center of the table, Yami turns back with a furrowed brow. “Are you trying to kill her or something? What all did you even put in that?”

Vanessa hums a noncommittal sound of guilt, winding a strand of your hair around her finger.

He scoffs and moves closer with an accompanying shake of his head. Your heart gives a little jolt when you realize he’s coming towards you, not Vanessa, and you can’t help the anxious tinge that sparks in your chest. He was probably mad at you for getting so drunk. He looked mad. You didn’t want to be on the receiving end of one of his lectures though and you lean further into the softly swaying witch next to you in search of protection.

Much to your faltering surprise, however, Yami’s tone sounds closer to exacerbated than angry when he says, “Alright, brat. C’mere. You get to sit with me for the rest of the night so I can keep an eye on you and make sure someone doesn’t try to sneak you anything else.”

You blink, thoroughly confused, and it feels like even something as simple as a muscle twitch takes a small eternity to accomplish. Yami either doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care though.

Shooing Vanessa away, he bends at the waist and curls big hands under your armpits, hauling you straight up out of your seat. You outright squawk, flailing weakly in Yami’s grasp when you suddenly find yourself much further from the ground than you were used to. But your panic lasts only a terrifyingly brief moment and you relax when he draws you close, allowing you to curl your limbs around his thick frame. With a slight jostle, he adjusts his hold and secures you to the front of him. You instinctively nuzzle further into his arms, drunkenly whimpering as you tightly lock your elbows behind his neck.

“You’re no fun …” Vanessa whines on your behalf.

He clicks his tongue. “I’m thinking ahead. You’re not.” He says, those rumbled words reverberating inside your skull and further grounding you by some margin. “But if she gets sick, you’re the one who’s gonna’ clean it up.”

With that admonition, he moves back to his own chair and sits down again. It takes you a moment to get situated on his lap, still unbearably hot and fussy now after forcibly being removed from the fun. The last thing you want is to look like a lightweight in front of your teammates but he finally stills you with a large, mindful hand against your lower back. The silent warning in that innocuous gesture is enough to make you quit while you’re still ahead and, mewling something unintelligible, you press your warm face into his neck so you can settle in to pout.

Magna says something then, successfully distracting Vanessa from the subject, and the game carries on without you. The three of them don’t seem to mind the loss one bit as they seamlessly pick right back up where they’d left off.

It's hard to shake the feeling that your presence at the table was nothing more than an afterthought to them, or maybe a simple nicety, and it stung a little. There was no denying that. But you were much too hazy and disoriented to linger on it for more than a moment, molding yourself to the firm weight against you and going pleasantly slack in Yami’s arms. He was surprisingly comfortable, given his hard physique. A little too warm for your liking when you already felt swelteringly hot, but ultimately comfortable.

The even rise and fall of his broad chest is almost enough to lull you into dozing off right then and there with your head resting on his shoulder. Yami’s rough fingers tracing nonsensical, soothing patterns across your spine is the only thing that keeps you tethered to reality and you sit there, eyes closed, just listening to the slurred conversation going on at your back. It sounded far away now. Muted, as if your ears were stuffed with cotton, but you didn’t mind that too much. Magna was loud enough when sober and even worse when he was drunk.

A long moment later, Yami removes the cigarette from his lips and turns towards you when the other two start bickering about the validity of a certain card sequence. “How you feeling, squirt?” He asks, pressing his mouth against your hair.

“Good.” You murmur dreamily.

He laughs, very quietly, and gives you the briefest squeeze. “Yeah? You’re deadweight, baby girl. Sure you’re not gonna’ pass out on me over there?”

“Mmhmm.”

With a soft click of his tongue, Yami focuses back in on the game. The hand resting on your back slips lower, inconspicuously giving your behind a playful tweak that seems to go unnoticed by the table's other occupants given that they keep talking without pause. Magna would more than likely look away, politely pretending he hadn’t seen it, but Vanessa … if she’d caught so much as a glimpse, you’d be hearing about it right now. That was at least one reason (of which there was many) why what you had with Yami, whatever it was, still remained a secret to the rest of the squad even though it was probably a miracle they hadn’t caught on already, especially when he was so damn handsy with you.

Normally you’d err on the side of caution for that reason alone but you felt just daring enough to give him little push back. Emboldened by the liquid courage sitting hot and heavy in your stomach, confident that he wouldn’t have initiated this had it not been safe to do so, you discreetly roll your hips into him. The drag of your pussy across the front of his pants makes your breath hitch and he stiffens underneath you. That’s all the reaction you get for your trouble though, prompting you to lift your head from his shoulder and lean close to Yami’s ear.

“ Daddy …”

It’s nothing more than a tiny, breathless sigh but the effect it has on him is instantly noticeable. Steel chorded arm tightening around you, he breathes out a terse exhale and pulls you more firmly against his chest until you can scarcely breathe. A wavering puff of air slips from you as your thighs flex around his waist, silently trying to urge him on. It doesn’t work though and a shudder works its way down the length of your spine when he turns towards you again, growling right against the outer shell of your ear.

“Watch it.”

You whine, bucking against him more insistently. “ Nooooo .”

Yami snorts and swivels his attention back around to the cards clasped in his other hand. Pressing your face into the crook of his neck, you take a deep breath until the naturally heady scent of him swarms your senses like a fragrant, masculine cocktail. You can taste him in the back of your throat and it just makes you want him all the more.

Another wiggle of your hips is all the incentive he needs, calloused fingers slipping further down to grab a pinching handful of your ass. Roughly nudging you to sit a bit higher up on his thighs, he reaches lower and snakes his hand under your skirt. You squirm at the first touch against your panties, whimpering softly into his skin. Yami merely tightens his arm around you as he ever so carefully pulls the thin layer of cotton aside just enough to slide those sinfully long digits past the flimsy barrier.

“Spoiled brat,” He murmurs fondly, just loud enough for you to hear. “Already so damp and needy for me.”

You bite down on your tongue to keep yourself quiet, shuddering when he casually traces the length of your slit with abrasive fingertips.

Magna abruptly cackles about something and the sudden noise makes you jolt. Yami, to his credit, remains perfectly still though and merely waits a torturously long beat before continuing in rumbling hushed tones. “How long were you sitting over there in your own mess, hmm?”

“I - it’s not a mess.” You warble into his shoulder, your cheeks flushing hot.

“Oh? This certainly feels like a mess to me …” Pausing, Yami dips a finger into the meat of your labia and the slick quality of your pussy suddenly makes itself known. You hadn’t noticed until now, either because you were too caught up in your inebriated stupor or simply too focused on pouting to pay it any mind, but you were absolutely soaked. It wasn’t exactly surprising. Your body always responded eagerly to being manhandled by the captain but even this seemed a bit excessive.

Whining low in your throat, you decide you don’t want to play this game after all and try to angle your defenseless little cunt away from his searching hand. But Yami puts a stop to that quickly enough and shifts his legs further apart, forcibly spreading your thighs until you can’t find the leverage needed to wriggle out of his hold. You lip quivers when he takes advantage of this vulnerable position to worm a finger into the tight, squeezing heat of your body, gummy walls contracting around the intrusion with a pleasant flutter. It takes everything you have not to throw your head back and unabashedly moan up at the ceiling.

“Can’t you feel that, baby? You’re so wet I didn’t even have to work you open.”

Hiccuping, you shove your face against Yami’s neck again. “Dah - daddy … please .”

“Shh.” He warns even as he starts up a slow pace, sedately pumping into you. “Keep quiet or I’ll have to stop.”

As if on cue, Vanessa says something to him then and Yami effortlessly diverts his attention to the slurring witch as if nothing about the situation were out of place. You dig your nails into the broad expanse of his shoulder blades and bite back a groan, suddenly feeling ten times hotter than before. Even with all your concentration focused on keeping as still and quiet as possible, you find yourself imperceptibly arching to give him better access to your sticky cunt. It was certainly a blessing in disguise that she was just as drunk as you were, otherwise she might have given the whole thing a second thought. The way you were sitting on his lap. The smallest twitch of your hips to accompany the shallow quality of your breathing. It was so obvious what you two were doing. How had they not noticed already?

The table.

Neither Magna or Vanessa could see over it unless they came around and stood right next to the chair. You were essentially safe from the waist down and a fresh spark of confidence alights throughout your whole system with this realization, doubling and then tripling your arousal. It was still risky doing something so brazen right in front of them but you were just drunk enough not to care.

Loins twisting and curling, you carefully rear back to meet his shallow thrusts. You’d never felt more uninhibited in your whole life. “Oooh, daddy,” You whisper, choking on it. “Right there.”

Yami doesn’t miss a beat, easily keeping up with the conversation as he allows a second digit to slide in with the first. You feel the stretch in your bones and you quietly seeth, lashes fanning against the apples of your cheeks when it pushes you to just this side of discomfort. Even being as wet as you are, his fingers were just too thick for your eagerly clenching passage to accommodate them without some resistance and you hedonistically bask in the searing burn. It felt good. Almost good enough for you to lose yourself to the pleasure but, somehow, you manage to keep your wits about you instead of shamelessly writhing in his lap.

You may as well have thrown caution to the wind though. Discretion hardly mattered anymore. You already felt like a blatant little slut and the shock of how much that turns you on has your pussy drooling obscenely all over Yami’s hand.

“Hah - harder, daddy … nnghh, harder, please.”

Rather than obliging, he actually pauses his ministrations and you quietly mewl at the loss of friction. You squirm on top of his muscular thighs and desperately try to fuck down on his digits, panting like a bitch in heat against the captains neck. He shifts underneath you, says something to Vanessa that makes her direct a chiding tone at Magna. Their bickering starts up again and with the rise in volume, Yami gives his wrist a good twist that shoves his fingertips into your upper wall. Static electricity shoots through your system at the sudden pressure on that pulsing sweet spot and the tension in your gut immediately starts to toe the line of unbearable.

Your mouth drops open in shellshocked ecstasy but nothing comes out. It’s hard just to draw breath when the dizzyingly sharp jolt of arousal has your toes flexing uselessly in the air and you tremble, quaking in his arms. Unperturbed by the effect this is having on you, Yami takes his time caressing the velvety soft lining of your insides with sedately smooth motions. Those worn fingertips gradually curl up in the general direction of your belly button and press in deeper, harder, making your cunt absolutely gush around him. You weren’t going to last much longer at this rate.

“Oooh god !” You gasp, clutching him in a death grip.

Turning your head, you press your cheek against Yami’s shoulder and fix your gaze to a random spot on the far wall. The room looked like it was tilted on its axis - - spinning, spinning, spinning - - and all you can do is whine and shake when he scissors his fingers, making more room for himself within you.

You weren’t just overheated anymore. It was as if you’d caught flame, burning from the inside out, and it only gets worse when he flexes his hand, jabbing at the spongy soft spot again and again.

A choked off squeal rises in your throat, just barely held back by tightly clenched teeth. You’re almost positive you can hear the greedy, slopping clicks of your pussy sucking him in deeper just below the surface of the enthusiastic argument going on behind you but they don’t seem to notice. They just keep shouting back and forth at each other, oblivious to what was going on at the other end of the table. You have no idea how you’re getting away with this - aren’t even really sure if you will get away with this when all is said and done - but that’s the very last thing on your mind anymore as you haltingly roll your hips into the blinding pressure.

“Ah - ahh - d - dah - ahh - ddyyy !”

“Do it.” Yami murmurs, his mouth pressed tight to your ear. “Come now , baby. Do it while you have the chance. Come on.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you give your pelvis one good little twist. The drag of your throbbing clit across the front of his rough pants is the last push you need, the resulting friction searing your veins. It sends you spiraling right over the edge into doped out bliss and you squeak, jerking against him when full bodied tremors grip you in earnest and make you shake.

Riding out the cresting waves as discreetly as you can, you blink back an onslaught of reflexive tears. Your pussy squeezes tight, milking your orgasm on his fingers, even though the effort of forcing yourself to remain quiet nearly breaks your resolve. But you manage, somehow, to breathe through it even as your hips weakly buck in unmitigated pleasure, subduedly twisting in his arms. It felt like you were drowning in it, choking on immense, all encompassing relief.

But Yami doesn’t immediately let up on his concerted attack, continuing to work you over until the spasms start to subside and you whine in frazzled distress. Digits finally stilling inside you, he offers a brief kiss to your hair and it makes you breathe out a tired sigh. You immediately slump, going boneless on top of him, now even clammier than when you’d started. The sweat clinging to your skin has you feeling worryingly damp but you were also satiated and comfortable. It was an acceptable tradeoff, as far as you were concerned.

“Such a good girl. You even managed to stay quiet for me. I’m proud of you.”

Smiling at the hushed approval in his tone, you snuggle further into Yami’s musclebound frame. You were floating on cloud nine, no longer concerned about being removed from the card game; not when the pleasant afterglow and the reassuring presence of your captain - your daddy - had you feeling so at peace. There would always be a next time.

#Black Clover #yami sukehiro #yami x reader #self insert bullshit #My writing

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komori--shoma · 3 years

Text

Shoma Umi Komori.

🦢

(I'm sorry if my english is shitty-)

❛A sad soul can kill faster than bacteria.❜

—𝐽𝑜𝒉𝑛 𝑆𝑡𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑘

⟅☙⟆ Universe ⟅☙⟆

Diabolik Lovers. I plan, however, to take her out of the universe and make her a character of her own. Or maybe I'll just drop it and do both. Who knows?

⟅☙⟆ Full Name ⟅☙⟆

Shoma Umi Komori.

"Shoma" is a Japanese name that means "Woman who seeks the truth, who is not conformist at all." Her second name, "Umi", is also a Japanese name that means "ocean".

⟅☙⟆ Kanji ⟅☙⟆

ショマ

⟅☙⟆ Nickname ⟅☙⟆

Despite being initially confused by these, as she was not used to it, she was given the nickname "Engel" (which means "Angel" in German) by a family quite close to her. The nickname was given by the mother and head of the family, since in the eyes of that woman, Shoma is an angel.

Seiji, who was the adoptive father of the girl, called the young woman "Astertea", which is quite a "peculiar" name in the bible.

Yui, with whom she is no longer in contact with Shoma, used to call her "Sho" or "Shomi" affectionately.

⟅☙⟆ Age ⟅☙⟆

She is eighteen years old, although she looks a bit younger.

⟅☙⟆ Gender ⟅☙⟆

Feminine.

⟅☙⟆ Sexual Orientation ⟅☙⟆

She doesn't know yet. Doesn't really bothers her to know.

⟅☙⟆ Height ⟅☙⟆

160 cm.

⟅☙⟆ Weight ⟅☙⟆

She used to weigh 35 kg., But now she is a proud 64.5 kg.

⟅☙⟆ Blood type ⟅☙⟆

OR-

⟅☙⟆ Status ⟅☙⟆

Alive.

⟅☙⟆ Race ⟅☙⟆

Human

⟅☙⟆ Birthday ⟅☙⟆

June 20th.

⟅☙⟆ Sign ⟅☙⟆

Gemini.

⟅☙⟆ Favorite Color ⟅☙⟆

Light blue and night blue.

⟅☙⟆ Appearance ⟅☙⟆

There is a great before and after in her appearance, and even though she is not shown in her story (at the end of the card), there was the occasional change in her future.

The girl has oculocutaneous albinism, so her skin and hair are snow-white. Her hair, due to a small "situation", was long, straight and lifeless. Her hair almost touched her waist, and she basically managed to cover her view. She is now a cute short hairstyle down to the nape of hers, wavy and neat.

Her skin is very pale and fragile, although now she is somewhat better, before she was simply rough and damaged. She has several deep burns and scars on this one as well.

The young woman, despite not having very good eyesight, has beautiful eyes of a light blue color, somewhat grayish.

She has a mark on her right leg in the shape of a fox with several stars on it. It's a pretty special symbol, but she keeps it covered most of the time.

She usually did not wear clothes other than bandages to cover herself, although she still finds old clothes to wear, even though she was a little too big. Now, she got used to wearing light clothes that cover most of her body; like jeans, leggings, or long dresses with something underneath. She doesn't really like to wear short or see-through clothes.

⟅☙⟆ Personality ⟅☙⟆

Many think that she simply doesn't have any kind of emotion. Shoma never shows any kind of expression in public, she is shown with her face up and with a look so cold that she makes it true to her appearance. The young woman is too serious, and depending on the person, it is very difficult to get her out of her typical attitude.

Sho is an elegant little girl, and full of grace despite all her troubles. She will never be friendly enough in front of someone (again, it depends on the person), but she will also not feel uncomfortable or unwelcome unless that is the goal of the little one. Shoma knows that she is able to erase someone from the earth fas if she wishes, but she doesn't abuse that thought, you just have to be careful not to make her angry or touch her too much. It could be a big mistake.

Still, well ...

She is always alert, so it is very easy for her to get nervous or anxious most of the time.

She can also happen that she cannot do something right (she finds it very difficult to concentrate / think on several occasions, as well as sometimes she finds it difficult to understand what happens around her, etc). Still, it is something that doesn't happen as much as before, after leaving the aforementioned situation in which she found herself.

She is easily frustrated, and this happens when she recognizes that she has trouble thinking. It's very easy for her to cry or tear up in frustration (she doesn't do it in public, she refuses to do it, but that only makes it worse). Also, her coping strategy is simply not talking about her emotions and keeping a straight face all the time.

Still, and even though she very reluctantly accepted help, Sho is willing to change and improve (even if she has to go through hell first). She has shown to be too cunning for her age and to behave as if she were an adult, and even though she is slowly trying to behave according to her age, she is very difficult for her as well.

Anyway, Shoma can also be a girl who listens to others and is willing to do it regardless of the situation, and she is always there to be a shoulder on which one can cry. She also tends to have fun when she feels calm around her, being one of the few moments when she feels and acts like a young little girl.

⟅☙⟆ Relatives ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Seiji Komori: Adoptive father. Currently dead.

⟣ Yui Komori: Adoptive sister. Currently alive.

⟅☙⟆ Favorite Food ⟅☙⟆

She doesn't have a single specific favorite food, but she definitely likes sweet and simple foods, like grated applesauce and banana, or a fruit salad.

⟅☙⟆ Hoobies ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Shoma likes to make paintings with her hands. She serves to entertain him and clear her mind.

⟣ She also likes to make crowns with different types of flowers, even some bracelets and necklaces.

⟣ She has a certain fascination for mathematics and literature, so it is normal to see her do either of the two when she is bored. The problem is when she has a hard time doing a difficult exercise.

⟣ She Likes to play decorating and decision-making video games. She likes to decorate and combine, so it is normal for her as a hobby to do the odd combination in video games, or in a room.

⟣ It may not count as a hobby, but Shoma loves to watch an episode of a series that she likes or a movie many times to imitate the lines, as if it were some kind of dubbing attempt.

⟅☙⟆ Occupation ⟅☙⟆

None, she doesn't consider herself a student, even if she studies at home.

⟅☙⟆ Relationships ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Seiji Komori, adoptive father.

She did not have a good relationship with him no matter how hard she tried at the time. It was too obvious the favoritism that he had with Yui, and how she always stayed in the shadow of the blonde. Despite trying to be like Yui, he could never have any kind of acceptance with her father.

⟣ Yui Komori, adoptive sister.

He adored her with her soul. Yui was Shoma's heroine, and she always tried to follow her example despite her unruly attitude as a child. The elder Komori was Shoma's world, and he simply wanted to be with her all the time.

Things have changed now. She can't even look at her. The disgust and hatred that he has for that now young woman is simply immense. And believe it when I say she tries; she tries too hard to forget so many things that caused this feeling, but she just can't.

⟣ Yvonne Beauchene, the right hand.

Shoma's only trusted person alongside her family. Yvonne was Shoma's guardian from the day he arrived at the church, although she had some problems because of it, and that is the reason why she had to leave, but surely nothing bad could happen, right?

⟅☙⟆ Likes ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Despite not having tasted it in recent years, she liked (and still remembers the taste of it, so she still likes) Yvonne's orange tarts a lot. She used to do them when Seiji was not at home for her, Yui and Shoma.

⟣ She loves music, especially the one that doesn't have any type of letter and is only a beautiful and hypnotizing melody. Her favorite, and also Yvonne's, is "The Vampire Masquerade", which is the melody which Yvonne met her husband.

⟣ Regarding the above, she usually daydreams many times with music in the background and she likes that (because the real world sucks and it is her only way out of the stress and anxiety that she feels most of the time). She sometimes even draws or paints those scenarios that are formed in her head.

⟣ As said before, she likes to play decorating and decision-making video games. Also, despite having the face of wanting some horror games (these make her heart race and sometimes she has panic attacks), she prefers Animal Crossing by a lot.

⟣ Loves snakes (which are not poisonous), cats and dogs. Snakes are very good company, and cats and dogs are responsible for keeping her calm.

⟅☙⟆ Dislikes ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Despite having been seen surviving based on it, she does not like meat very much. Of course, she can bear it, she even likes some (very few) meat dishes !, but there are certain types of meat that remind him too much of ... well, her own meat.

⟣ Obviously, she can't stand going to churches or things related to religion. She gets too anxious and nervous.

⟣ Her body and mind literally rejects any kind of physical affection if she doesn't know the person very well or doesn't trust them. It's no surprise, considering her personality. Very few people are lucky enough to even put a hand on her shoulder and not get hurt (Shoma doesn't do it on purpose).

⟅☙⟆ Fears and Phobias ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Somniphobia: fear of sleeping.

Oneirophobia, somniphobia, clinophobia or hypnophobia is an irrational and excessive fear of the act of sleeping. People who suffer from it enter a state of panic caused by the fear that while they are sleeping something terrible will happen to them, such as the possibility of stopping breathing or that they will never wake up, even knowing that there is no threat, but they stay awake, presenting insomnia. Some people who have this phobia associate going to bed with death.

In some cases, panic is unleashed by the belief that the dreams that will be had when sleeping are actually delusions and these will favor falling into a state of permanent madness. This type of phobia generates a great deal of stress and significant physical and mental deterioration, so it is not uncommon for many people to end up suffering from hallucinations, a fact that further aggravates this type of phobia: fear of sleeping.

Shoma cannot sleep because various things used to happen during these. She remembers well once a nun (then she disappeared without a trace) entered her room and hanged her, almost killing her if it weren't for Yui screaming for help.

⟣ Theophobia: fear of religion.

Theophobia is the fear or aversion to religion or the gods, and being more common among people who are raised in an environment of iron religiosity. Theophobia can express itself as fear, aversion, anger, or other negative emotion towards religious practices. In some cases, the theophobic representation can categorize the deity as an arbitrary totalitarian dictator or, conversely, as unworthy of worship.

It is common among people who suffer from theophobia to avoid religious texts, houses of worship (churches, mosques, synagogues ...) and even the parishioners of a religion.

The young woman lived in a church for years and was not treated as "a daughter of God", but as "an aberration of satan" by her father and certain nuns. She causes him so much fear that, if there really is a god, she has abandoned her for "not being worthy". Many things together caused this irrational fear of religion in general.

⟣ Hafephobia: fear of being touched.

Hafephobia is a specific phobic disorder (unlike agoraphobia or social phobia) that causes great suffering in the person who suffers from it.

It is an irrational fear of great intensity that manifests itself when the individual suffering from the phobia comes into physical contact with other people and is touched. It produces a series of cognitive, physiological or behavioral responses, among which extreme anxiety and the attempt to avoid the feared stimulus to reduce the unpleasant sensation stand out.

Shoma, of course, is working on this and for now she's doing very well, but if she's some stranger, she isn't going to allow herself to be touched or touched by another individual. She is so afraid that every touch will turn into a blow or something to harm her.

⟣ Atazagoraphobia: fear of forgetting.

Atazagoraphobia is the excessive fear of forgetting, which includes both the fear of forgetting and the fear of being forgotten or replaced by others. Despite the fact that it is a common sensation, atazagoraphobia has been little described in scientific language. In fact, it has been more pointed out by philosophers and writers who speak of atazagoraphobia as the fear of eternal anonymity.

Shoma was literally forgotten or ignored from a young age, and she doesn't want to go through it again. She doesn't want to feel so cold again that she can't breathe properly or move. She can't, she doesn't want to...

⟅☙⟆ Headcannon Voice ⟅☙⟆

Mia Rodríguez.

⟅☙⟆ Skills ⟅☙⟆

⟣ She is impressively good with knives and razors. She usually uses them for cooking.

⟣ Literally she can imitate many voices, even male ones. She uses it to make jokes or for some plan (to get some dessert) that she has in mind.

⟣ She is becoming more and more independent, and that is why she is getting very good at cooking. She even manages to focus on that rather than other things.

⟅☙⟆ Extra ⟅☙⟆

⟣ She has undiagnosed “attention deficit hyperactivity disorder”.

⟣ She tends to bite her arm or bite her nails if she is very anxious.

⟣ It is difficult for her to accept some changes in her life, but she manages to adapt step by step.

⟣ She likes to play with Yvonne's family, August, her husband, being Shoma's favorite.

⟣ She is considerably innocent of the world around her, but at the same time, she isn't. She is aware that the world revolves around that filthy green paper, and she is very clever with it. She knows that her "condition" and her situation may be a weak point, but it is for that reason that she is also careful who she hangs out with.

⟅☙⟆ History ⟅☙⟆

Shoma arrived at the doors of the Komori family church on May 22, 2001, with only a note that said "My name is Shoma, Mom and Dad can no longer take care of me," just three weeks after I was born. She was greeted by one of the local sisters, a favorite of the owner and leader of that church, Seiji Komori. The latter named was not on that cold night, with the snow falling slowly in that beautiful place, so the same sister took care of the girl in his absence.

A girl with blond hair and pink eyes like the petals of a cherry tree approached said sister, curious by the cries that began to be heard. Seeing her up close, and seeing that beautiful celestial gaze, the seven-year-old girl took the girl in her arms (with the permission of her sister), and did not leave her during that night until the next day. It was no surprise to the sister that her crying stopped as soon as the young Komori began to gently cradle her in her arms.

Still, from the moment Seiji arrived, he knew that something was wrong with the girl, that she was "not human", and that he probably knew whose "gift" it was. Shoma was unwelcome, and he couldn't show her that in public, not with Yui close to her. Also, the plan deviated. No, he isn't supposed to have two daughters, and she is supposed to be just one more orphan, but the young blonde girl already called her "Shoma Umi Komori", and that could be ... Something dangerous for him. Obviously, the orders for Shoma to come to his office were not long in coming as soon as he was two years old.

What Shoma saw in her supposed father's room was sealed in her mind, and nothing else. Every time Shoma was called to her father's office, her heart raced because she knew something bad was going to happen. Every time that happened it was because she Shoma found out more and more that she was going to happen to every sixteen, maybe seventeen-year-old on certain dates. It was because Shoma knew too much about her, and if he couldn't make her forget everything she had seen, then she would silence her to her grave. Every time Shoma gained courage and told Yui, she was scolded for inventing such things, and she would see her father again for "breaking her promise" to him.

The only one who managed to believe her is the same sister who received her the day Shoma arrived there, although that same sister would get a serious face everytime Sho told her that, she never had to see her father when she told Yvonne.

But, one day, Seiji went a bit far with the punishments, and let the fury just blind him, even if he didn't even regret it afterwards. Seeing Shoma talk to someone... Important, once this man left the church it just infuriated him. That man's smile when he stopped talking to her and saw him in the eye was not good news at all. That night, everyone heard the screams of a three-year-old girl resound throughout the establishment, and she was found in the middle of the hall with a desperate Seiji, saying that she had been playing with a poker and that she tripped, with it smacking part of her face.

Shoma began to startle every time someone moved near her, every time someone placed her hand on some part of her body, or when they called her, or when they approached her. She didn't separate from Yui or the sister she trusted so much, and even though it started to be annoying for Yui as she grew older, there were very few times when she was really rude to Shoma due to the fatigue of having her on her back every day three seconds, but they just didn't help Shoma with her fear of being alone, either with Seiji, or with certain nuns. The sister who had her trust steadfastly refused to leave her alone if she wasn't with Yui, although it was only because she slipped out of sight once.

Things escalated to the worse on December 12, 2006, at exactly a quarter past two in the morning. It was precisely an exhausting day for the girl, because the nun who was taking care of her and her sister had to leave due to family problems, or so they told her.

The albino-haired girl couldn't sleep due to some nightmares, even though she had become very habitual. The young woman began to hear murmurs and footsteps outside the room that she shared with Yui, and she could make out her father's voice. She could make out her desperate tone from her ... And, strangely, anger.

Carefully, she got out of her bed without making any noise, but following a little voice in her head, she took the camera that belonged to the blonde that was a gift from her only trusted caregiver, and opened slowly the door. Her father had locked himself in her office, and she could hear someone else's voice. On tiptoe, he approached the door ajar, and looked behind it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she saw the body of one of the older girls on the ground, tied up and with blood pouring from her head. That memory is somewhat blurry, but it remembers very well various parts of the conversation between her father and a man with long hair. She took photos, and to her surprise, they did not have flash, and the photos came out perfectly ... That woman had many strange objects.

Once she finished, she turned, intending to leave, but one of the nuns spotted her, yelling to warn Seiji. Shoma wasted no time running and closing in on her sister's room, which she was awakened by her scream. Shoma told her everything quickly, leaving the photos to hide them, and the little girl didn't hesitate long to jump out the window (it was not the first time that she did that out of boredom), and she ran away from there. Still, the nun had gone ahead, and it wasn't long to be just a few steps away from her with her father's poker, part of them burning.

She remembers her sister with hatred seeing it all in horror and just standing there with the camera in her hands, shaking, to simply turn and turn her back on him.

In the blink of an eye, she was dragged by her hair by her "father" and other nuns, and before she had a chance to run away, the girl was thrown into the basement, away from other people, away from Yui, away from everyone. She tried to get out, scream, but no one ever came.

Nobody, nobody at all...

And here ends her story. The young woman, thanks to her curiosity, sealed her fate. She was destined to die in that place, even if she didn't want that, alone and starving, not knowing if Yui or someone would remember her...

But they say that there is always someone who takes care of us somewhere, right? Even if she has no hope... Maybe there really is someone, even without her knowing it.

#shoma komori #komori shoma #diabolik brothers #diabolik lovers #diavolik lovers #diabolik oc #diabolik lovers oc #diabolik #diaboliklovers #dia lovers #dialovers #describe your oc #oc info

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ben-the-hyena · 3 years

Note

[[ Also, could you please give some insight on Dai Gui and Bai Tza? I have curiosities? ]]

Coming right up !

First, Dai Gui :

Surprisingly despite his voice and looks, he is one of the youngest, he is the 6th. He doesn't care nor feel self couscipus about it, but sure trained to to show he is just as strong as his olders, in the end becoming THE physically strongest of the 8

Easily angry like we saw. Due to the fact he is not very smart therefore can't control himself nor analyze something

Never ever cared if Shendu was older, he always treated him as if it were the contrary being his intelligence and scheme were annoying and weak in his eyes and action was more needed. In short Dai Gui pulling the "I'm stealing your elder pass" card. Shendu sighs and frustrated his grounding on him never work

In fact, he opposes and fights most of his oldee siblings too, useful with how unintelligent he is. Sure he is often forced to obey him, but sometimes it will even go to fist fights. HOWEVER a side of him fears Tso Lan and his powers, only Tso Lan can drag him pulling him by the horn if he fucked up something and he would just go "ow ow ow ow ow ow"

So he bullies (almost) all of them. Still he tries to take his role of big brother to Po Kong Hsi Wu seriously by commanding them the way the others do, and with his "rocky" arguments it sure works even if in his case it is mpre bossing around than actual useful orders/missions. Though he has a soft spot for Po Kong because they are of similar elements and chuckles a very proud way when he sees she is solid and strong as if he trained her even if she were born that way. Also admires Bai Tza for having always whooped his ass successfully

Mostly uses his fists and powers, but he has a lot of respect as well of practice for other kinds of weapons. Any mean to be strong and stronger earns his respect

He headbutted so much his mother's inside when she was pregnant of him she was relieved to finally give birth to him. In fact he would headbutt everyone as a game like a baby from birth to young childhood, before being finally stopped when his horns would become to big and put Shendu in a coma for 3 weeks (relieved everyone with his silence though)

Would throw angry pouty tearful tantrums as a kid if told no, destroying his toys then sitting there arms crossed

Surprisingly when he was a little child he and child Shendu and preteen Tchang Zu formed a little trio of mischief, not agreeing at all nor being at peace to each other but allies in their will of disobediance of the elder authority. Often stopped by them in the end tho, being grounded then blaming each other and fighting

Sees humans as objects, in most cases dummy trainings and toys he can break/kill to become stronger and also as an example of never rebelling against him

Like I had said, same with his harem, he sees them as fucktoys sure but also trophies and training dummies/partners he doesn't fear to break either, just disappointed if so since that means he had wasted time with weaklings all along

Like his siblings, he would look outside of his harem for a heir, ending up finding a very strong Spanish street fighter. She accepted to be the mother of the biggest royalty family in the world and get the honors and privileges that go with it, but sadly (for her, Dai Gui did not care) died in childbirth for how big the baby was, a girl @dracocheesecake and I didn't name yet. Even if loving her deep down, Dai Gui would rarelt show it and be extremely harsh with her, determined to make her a powerful warrior and making her train until she would bleed, not showing a lot of affection (she and Drago = daddy issues) except sometimes a treat or a break day when he would have found her particularly fierce that day

With his niblings notably Drago, he was no better, being the kind of uncle demanding pushups and sending to bed early with no food to make them stronger because their parents taught them like mice. Again, he does like them but affection is not in his limited vocabulary

He chose Oceania, India Indonesia and Polynesia as his Empire because he was fascinated to see so many rocky yet fertile islands with big rocky hills or weird shapes and vocanoes as well as mountain chains. He made his capital like I said in current Easter Island and in my HC for the JCA lore, was the origin to the big statues' culture. Yet his banishment portal is in Spain because it happened a day he was showing her roots to his heiress so that she could maybe improve her fights by mixing both cultural skills together (even if in Ancient Chinese demon eyes Asian origins were superior)

He found his element was Earth with how much he loved digging holes and nap under the dirt for hours making everyone panic and look for him when he was a toddler

However his weakness was found to be flowers around the same time for how his mole tunnels would drastically dodge any and if there were just that he would enrage and headbutt the earth until the flowers would be crushed

Then, Bai Tza :

The 3rd born, one of the oldest and determined to be seen as such instead of the first youngest or eldest youngest, she became assertive as soon as she could think to owe that title and remained all her life to keep it

She and Tso Lan and Xiao Fung therefore being the 3 eldest are an efficient trio who respect all each other, due to the little age gap they had them be too young and unable to take care of each other when one was a baby and who take decisions together, order, and the others come consult them. Though being younger in the end she sometimes has to bend and obey grumpily the 2 others if they disagree with her, and a side of her, as angry as she is, also respects them as such and fears to upset them (notably the eldest Tso Lan, like all) even if she often opposes

She is feared and respected by the youngest siblings because she is the harsher, angrier, and less chill of the 3 eldest. A mix of a bully and a responsible sibling. The kind of big sister who tells you to clean up your room while giving you a wedgie. They were all more scared about her finding about something they did than the others (though for certain matters she and Xiao Fung INCLUDED feared it would be Tso Lan). Hates and loves the nerve at the same time of the younger siblings who fight her and oppose her

Very cruel and blood thirsty, fierce warrior and torturer/executionner which unlike Dai Gui was doubled with her intelligence and strategic mind. So cruel she too like Xiao Fung loves deadly fight games and was in the JCA lore the origin of gladiator games. Gladly accepted Xiao Fung's invitiation to bloody rituals in his own empire too

Often angry. When she smiles, it's zo unusual it creeps out everyone

Actually constantly stressed and on the edge because she is self conscious in only being the 3rd kid, being surrounded by idiots even if she does love them, and in her need to assert herself as an eldest as well as one of the most powerful Demon Sorcerers both physically and magically to always be one of the best and not lose her authority

Yet secretly loves art too, notably literature. That's why there were so many scientists, philosophers, poets and historians in her Empire. In fact, she considers war, combat and magic as art in themselves and probably why she loves them too

In fact her Empire wasn't just Atlantis if you remember my post but also Northern/Southern/Western Europe Turkey. Because again she loves all the art and science that could be found there as well as its seaside traditions and cultures and the climate of most part of it. She influenced the Medusa myth, and the Ancient Medusa cult notably in Corsica where her capital was, in cutrent Bonifacio. Her banishment portal is in the Colosseum because the Immortal who banished found her in the middle of one of her gladiator games

Was a grumpy baby and toddler who would float away or slither away in hard to reach places angering her parents

Found out Water was her element as a baby with how much she loved baths and could spend hours there giggling and threw tearful tantrums when she had to be taken away and dried off

Also found out the gourd was her weakness with how she would kick away as a toddler any dish containing it and vomit if forced to eat it

Sometimes there were girl night outs between she and Po Kong when they were empresses

She despises most mortals and sees them as vermins, yet respect warriors and magicians who fought boldly. Hate, sure, but respect too

Howeveeeer, she has the secret kink of a human dominating her, and that's why her harem is composed of strong people able to do that. Her fetish. The one humans safe with her for sure as long as she is satisfied. Likes them ginger because it contrasts with blue cold colors like water is

Actually attractive and charismatic to human standards in-universe, so filling ans renewing her harem for centuries of reign was never too hard of a quest

Notably when the time came for having a heir. Unlike her brothers who had to convince women to bear their kids, it was easier for her since she would be the ones bearing, so she took the form of a human woman passing as one and just seduced a buff and powerful Atlantean magician just the time of a night and never see him again. She knew the child she bore after that would be strong in both fields. She had a daughter @dracocheesecake and I did not name yet and lile Dai Gui was very hard on her, training her in always being stronger. However it wasn't always about trainint and being angry. Sometimes it was also about culture and being cold. Lots of mommy issues. However she does love her deep down, it's just that affection never was her forte even to her siblings and always found it weakening the child who needed to rather be confronted to harshness to become tough. Unlike Dai Gui however, there were moment where she would become OOC sweet to her heiress but mostly when she had already collapsed in exhaustion so that she wouldn't know, bringing her to bed and caressing her hair gazing at her

Just as harsh to her niblings like Drago, if not neglectful like "yeah yeah let them there meanwhile I will just keep doing my things" even if she does like them deep down. That was during one of her negligences almost drowned and she saved him at the last minute, horrified but making him promise not to tell his father, resulting in his water phobia

Surprisingly ? VERY surprisingly ? She has a soft spot for Shendu despite being of opposite elements. But mayne precisely BECAUSE they are opposite elements. She absolutely hates his scheming ass and always gladly punishes him, grounds him and tortures him for that and always calls him out or tell him to shut up when he opens it, and YET a part of her feel a sort of tenderness if not weird pride for how that guy often gets away with whatever he does and how inventibe he is, both loving and hating his nerve. Plus, whenever they fought together against a common enemy, complementary powers and very good synchronisation

#ask-jackie-chan #moi #dracocheesecake #jackie chan adventures #demon sorcerers #bai Tza #Dai gui #ask

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myriadimagines · 4 years

Note

Okay hi Sam, congrats again for 9k!! I'm terrible with requesting anything ever and gaaahh even when you're my friend I'm nervoussss because I'm just fearing I screw up. But maybe now when I don't have to make up any plot I could request?? But I requested an ID card from musicallisto too so you got this Jen... sooo could I get a ship drabble thing for The Maze Runner with prompt 32? (I literally just stuck my finger on random prompt BECAUSE I CAN'T CHOOSE MYSELF THEY ALL ARE SO GOOD) (1/7)

So for the apperance: I'm 5"8 girl, she/her. I have short, black pixie hair (my own hair color is brown), light skin and blue eyes with long eyelashes. I don't use makeup very often but sometimes I like to make myself pretty, usually if there's a birthday party or if I'm just bored. I usually wear t-shirts and jeans (long, capris or shorts depending on season). 2/7

Personality: I'm INFP-T Hufflepuff and very shy and timid with strangers, and I don't like big groups. At big parties you probably find me frozen against the wall and not moving. But with friends I'm very loud and make a lot of bawdy jokes. My friends say I'm loyal and kind. Despite that, I can be quite a hothead and it shows especially if I'm provoked by wrong people. 3/7

I also am very protective of my friends, going as far as cutting ties with people if they are mean to my friends (even if they haven't done anything for me personally). I've been told I'm like a lion protecting its pack in those situations. But if I have to deal with such situations myself (that people are mean to me) I'm incapable to survive from it without help, because I'm just blurting random things out if I'm angry at someone and I haven't learned to control it yet. 4/7

It often leads to people finding me childish when fighting. I find it difficult to talk verbally and I'm just awkward if I have to actually use my words. My hobbies include writing, learning to read more books, learning to play piano (I'm not very good with it yet though), play video + board games, taking long walks to the forest, fangirling and just clowning around. I want to be a crazy guinea pig lady when I'm old. 5/7

And for sexuality: I don't know my sexuality yet (I recently got to know there's a term called fictosexual though which means having sexual attraction for fictional characters), but I've been crushing on guys more than girls in fictional worlds. I've never dated anyone irl but I haven't really been wanting to date anyone as fictional characters have been enough for me as for now. But both genders are cool!! 6/7

Characters: Reader x Newt

Warnings: alcohol

Prompt: 32. “Oh God… I think I’m in love with you.”

Word Count: 475

A/N: thank u so much jenni!!! also u didnt screw this up at all and i’m super glad to hear u liked the prompt list :’) i debated between thomas and newt but decided to go with newt, i hope u like it!! 💕

NOT TAKING ANYMORE REQUESTS!

“Didn’t fancy on joining in on the celebrations?” Newt asks as he approaches you. He holds a mug out to you, and you wrinkle your nose, already knowing the disgusting alcohol concoction inside, but you take the cup anyway. He sits beside you, and you try to ignore how close his leg is to yours as he continues, “I have a good feeling about the new Greenie. I quite like him.”

Both you and Newt look over to the bonfire, where you can see Thomas a short distance away, getting to know the other Gladers. He looks disoriented, and understandably so — you remember how lost you felt upon entering the Glade for the first time.

The both of you turn away from the scene, falling silent as you listen to your fellow Gladers loudly cheering and jostling one another, enjoying the festivities. You enjoy Newt’s quiet company far more than the wild party raging on behind you, and you’re grateful for his calming presence. He takes a sip from his drink, wrinkling his nose at it slightly before he remarks, “Do you remember your first day?”

You gulp. It comes to you in your nightmares, the flashing lights, the loud mechanic sounds of the elevator. You slowly nod, and Newt chews his lip, “Yeah, me too. Was ages ago, but I still remember it like yesterday.”

“Do you think we’ll ever leave this place?” you blurt, and Newt falls silent, leaving you feeling miserably uneasy. Your shoulders slump, knowing the answer to your own question, and you let out a sad laugh as you remark, “I shouldn’t talk about this. We’re supposed to be partying.”

Newt doesn’t respond again, before he lets out a heavy sigh. He turns to face you, and you feel your cheeks getting flushed under his intense gaze as he tells you, “Look, I know it’s easy to feel hopeless about this whole situation, but we’ll be alright. We’ve got each other, yeah?”

You know Newt’s referring to the entire Glade, but you can’t help but think about just the two of you in this private moment. Newt’s always had that effect on you, making you feel as if you’re the only two people who matter, and you find yourself at loss for words before you suddenly confess, “Oh God… I think I’m in love with you.”

Newt blinks at you in surprise as you quickly clasp a hand over your mouth, but he quickly laughs to ease the tension. Gesturing to your cup, he teases, “I see the drink has gotten to you.”

You snort, quickly downing some, as if trying to wash the words out of your mouth. But Newt leans his leg up against yours as he takes a sip from his own drink, and you can see him smile out of your corner of your eye.

#tmr imagine #newt imagine #tmr #tmr drabble #newt #newt drabble #imagine #imagines #reader insert #drabble #drabbles #9k celebration #swanimagines

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not-just-any-fangirl · 7 years

Note

I'm a slut for your writing so how about like a progession from 52,73,151, to 184? If not, any of the above would be adorbs in your writing bae😙💕

Thunderstorm Revelations

Pairing; Nalu

Word Count; 2417

A/N; BAE I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMFG. But thanks for the prompt!!

52: “ Can we cuddle? ”

73: “ Oh, Are you ticklish? ”

151: “ I can’t feel my legs! ”

184: “ Can I touch you? ”

Natsu sat in the center of the sofa, one of Lucy’s books perched on his knee as he flipped through it absentmindedly. Lucy was always weird about him reading her stuff, and so he tried to wait until at least the third draft before sneaking a look at it. Lucy had been in a rut, however, and so Natsu was forced to reread her previous chapters to fend off his boredom.

Magnolia was all but shut down under the heavy thunderstorm outside, Lucy and Natsu trapped in her apartment on Strawberry Street as it had been closer than the guild. She had sent a lacrima message to the guild, letting everyone know her and Natsu were safe but wouldn’t be going to the guild that day. Happy had been especially upset, needing to be talked down from flying through the storm by Lucy. Natsu had been forced to bribe the exceed with the promise of all of Natsu’s catch next time they went fishing.

Natsu sighed loudly, leaning his head against the back of Lucy’s sofa and closing his eyes. She had been drying off for forever, and Natsu didn’t understand why he couldn’t have just dried her off himself. Lucy was so weird she had squawked and turned bright red at his offer, and now she was wasting time drying her hair when they could be playing cards.

A loud boom outside caught Natsu’s attention, the thunder harsh and sudden when he wasn’t watching the flashes of lighting outside the window. The lights flickered overhead, Natsu mentally threatening them if they went out. Lucy got all antsy in the dark with him, which bothered Natsu. She knew he would never try anything, didn’t she?

Besides, it wasn’t like Lucy was even aware of how Natsu felt.

Natsu cocked his head, tracking the soft padding of Lucy’s socked feet walking towards him.

Another crack of thunder rang in the sky, and Natsu opened his eyes with a frown when he sensed Lucy tense beside him. She looked pale, half dried hair thrown in a messy braid and large shirt trailing to her mid thigh.

“Can we cuddle?” Lucy asked, voice timid as she looked at her hands clasped in front of her. Natsu opened his mouth to ask her why she wanted to cuddle when a third boom shook the small apartment, Lucy flinching and curling into herself at the noise.

“Course, weirdo.” Natsu said instead, grinning at her easily. She smiled at him, shy and thankful in response as she slipped onto the couch beside him. Natsu shifted them around, his back now tucked into the corner of the couch and Lucy curled under his arm. She squeaked and pressed into his side firmly when the power shut off, the room falling into pitch blackness while the sky roared.

Natsu ran a comforting hand over Lucy’s back, soothing her small shakes as he tried to think. It had never occurred to Natsu that Lucy might be afraid of thunderstorms, and frankly he didn’t know what to say.

“You, er, alright, Luce?” Natsu asked, watching her face in the dark. The pale light coming from the window behind them was all Natsu needed to easily see in the room, but obviously from the unfocused expression she wore it wasn’t enough for Lucy.

“I’m fine Natsu. Just... don’t like thunder.” Lucy tried to brush off, but another loud crack of thunder sent her head burrowing into Natsu’s chest in fear.

“I think it’s more than a little dislike there, Luce.” Natsu commented dryly, tightening his arm around her and pulling her closer as he spoke.

“Oh shut up.” Lucy exhaled, hand relaxing as she bickered with Natsu. He grinned to himself, proud his plan had worked. He tensed as he sensed the change in the atmosphere, squeezing Lucy tight as a flash of lightning lit up the room, quickly followed by the booming thunder. Natsu looked over her face, tracing the tired pinching and tenseness she held on her face, thinking she was concealed by the dark.

Natsu ran his hand down her ribs, smirking when it got the desired squeak from Lucy. “Oh, are ya ticklish?” He purred, knowing fully well that she was indeed ticklish. Lucy tried to squirm out of his hold, cursing and threatening Natsu with denial to her kitchen as she did so. Natsu ignored her, the pair wrestling on the couch as Natsu attacked her ribs, large peaks of laughter and screams filling the dark room. They stopped when Natsu caught the scent of salt, and underneath that the light scent of Lucy's happiness. Everyone smelt different with different emotions, and a happy Lucy reminded Natsu of a field at dawn.

Natsu hummed happily when Lucy laid her head in the crook of his shoulder, wiping her face on his vest. The pair had ended up with Natsu on his back and Lucy tucked between his body and the back of her couch. The storm carried on around them, rain heavy on the roof and flashes punctuating the darkness outside, but Lucy seemed more relaxed now. Hidden from the world, her and Natsu escaping to their little universe for the moment.

Wow, Natsu needed to stop reading her writing so often, it had started to affect his brain with her weirdness. But then how would he find out what happened to the Dragon’s son?

“Hey Natsu?” Lucy whispered, her breath fanning over the skin of his shoulder, where both his vest and scarf failed to cover him. Natsu hummed in his throat in response, shifting with Lucy as she settled deeper against him. “Thank you.”

“For what Luce?” He asked, pausing his absent-minded stroking of her arm with his thumb.

“For helping me, for not making fun of me for being scared of a stupid storm. For being you.” Lucy whispered, nose pressed tight against Natsu's neck. He became hyper aware of how her curves moulded against his body so perfectly, the feeling of her heart beat calling his own pulse to match. Her breath tickled Natsu's skin, goosebumps causing a gentle shiver to run through his body. He swallowed thickly, suddenly unsure of himself.

“You're my best friend Luce. I don't like seeing ya afraid of anything.” His voice sounded rough, Natsu cringing at how close his words sounded to his thoughts. “‘Sides, I'll make fun of ya later when the storms passed.”

Lucy huffed a small laugh, hand curling into a fist on his bare stomach. She saw right through him, something only Happy had been able to do, and Lisanna briefly before. But not Lucy. No, it had taken her a week at most after meeting him to start to understand him. Maybe because she was the only one who had ever really tried to.

Natsu said nothing when he felt her shift, one hand lowering and resting on her knee, leg slung over his like he had seen her do to pillows in her sleep. Another shock of thunder rang outside, but Lucy barely flinched. Her breathing had slowed to match Natsu's, steady inhale with a slow and long exhale. Natsu let his face fall against the crown of her head, greedy as he took in her honey and vanilla scent. They would have to take a job soon, Lucy's expensive soaps and shampoos almost emptied.

On the bright side, Happy's fur was full and luscious now.

The peace lulled over him, Lucy's calm heartbeat pulling him to sleep and the rain a gentle backdrop despite its angry sounds as it hit the roof. But Natsu didn't want to sleep yet. Didn't want to miss time that he held Lucy in his arms for no other reason than to hold her.

“Hey Luce?” Natsu whispered, grinning as her small mewl in return. Her face turned more into the nook of his shoulder, nose pressed against his scarf as a pillow. “I can't feel my legs.”

“Oh shut up, you ass,” Lucy grumbled, fully awake. She moved over so more of her weight was pressed to Natsu's hips, her entire body eventually laying on top of his as she got comfortable again. “How about now?” She asked, smug lit making Natsu bite back a laugh. As if she didn't know he could lift her with one hand.

“Now I have a blanket!” He crowed, wrapping his arms around Lucy and trapping him against her. Her loud laugh and squeals as she half struggled in his arms sounded like the sweetest bells he had ever heard, pure joy and warmth washing over him from her.

“Well I have a space heater then.” Lucy countered, giving up her attempts at escape and snaking her arms between his back and the sofa cushion, legs falling between his spread ones and body curling into his.

“Just usin’ me for my body, eh?” Natsu teased, rolling his eyes at her exaggerated nod and hum in agreement.

“I have to admit,” Lucy said softly, Natsu barely able to hear her above the rain on the roof, “it is a very nice body.”

Natsu froze under her, mind crashing as he struggled to come up with a reason Lucy would say something like that. He made a gurgling sound when he couldn't find one.

“Natsu?” Lucy called, voice unsure and soft. Natsu hugged her tighter as he tried to swallow, mouth suddenly dry and his tongue feeling too big for his mouth.

“Uhh,” was all he managed to say, and he cringed inwardly. Yeah, that was so articulate, just like how Lucy would spend long walks on their missions describing her perfect man. She'd try and get Natsu to describe his perfect girl -or boy she added quickly, who was Lucy to limit him?- but Natsu had always brushed her questions aside, saying he didn't need any stupid romance or love when he had Fairy Tail and monsters to fight.

“Is that okay?” She asked, voice less unsure but still not what Natsu would call confident.

“Uhhuhh,” Natsu said again, biting his tongue sharply. She giggled at his noises, Natsu relaxing a bit despite his face feeling like it was on fire. “I, uh, like your body too.” Natsu said, scratching at his temple as he spoke. Was it too much? To admit something like that in the dark as he held her?

“With how much you grope me I should hope so.” Lucy said dryly.

“Oi!” Natsu squawked. “It ain’t like I try to do that shit! It just kinda... happens.” Natsu pouted. He really didn’t mean to touch her boobs and shit. He knew how uncomfortable it made her, and so Natsu tried his best to avoid it. But when a half naked best friend gets thrown at you, you’re going to try and cushion her fall. It was just that Natsu always seemed to end up with a handful and a red handprint on his face for his troubles.

Lucy always bought him double meals though, as way of apology, so he didn’t mind too much.

Lucy’s light chuckles made him relax, and a sudden desire took over Natsu. For the first time he could remember, he wanted to touch Lucy like that. He froze, unsure if this new realization meant he was overstepping a line just by holding her. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if what she loved most about being his best friend is that he wasn’t constantly chasing her like all the other guys?

“Natsu?” Lucy asked, worry in her voice making him sink deeper into despair. Here she was being concerned for him as he was debating if he was being a pervert by even cuddling her.

“Lucy,” Natsu asked, mind screaming for him to stop talking but his mouth not listening, “Can I touch you?”

“What?” Lucy asked. Natsu closed his eyes at her voice crack. Gods he’d gone and fucked everything up. “Why do you- I mean- what?”

Natsu whined and snatched his hands from off her back, covering his face with his scarf. He wondered if facing the rain was really that bad. A boom of thunder crashed overhead and Natsu struck that idea. He wouldn’t leave Lucy alone to brave the storm.

“Natsu, why are you asking for permission all of a sudden? You have literally never considered my personal space before, so why now?”

“I dunno,” Natsu mumbled through the scarf. At least Lucy mainly sounded confused, and a bit embarrassed. Not angry or repulsed. So Natsu was already ahead of the game in his mind.

“Is me touching ya bad?” He asked instead of letting it drop. Maybe it was the dark around them, the safety of knowing that Lucy couldn’t peer into his soul and figure him out that let Natsu speak his mind. Or maybe he’d just gone completely weird like her.

Lucy stayed quiet for several long seconds, blindly reaching for Natsu’s hands before leading them back to where they had sat on the small of her back. “No Natsu, it’s not bad. I like how close we are. The casual touches and the way you drape yourself over me or just pick me up and drag me along on whatever crazy scheme you’ve come up with. All of it. It makes me feel safe and like I’m home.”

Natsu swallowed thickly, letting his hands run along Lucy’s spine as the heavy quiet of the rain and darkness of the room fell over them once more. Lucy shivered lightly under his touches, and something whispered far back in Natsu’s brain that they weren’t bad shivers. Fuck.

“I feel the same.” He rasped, staring blankly at the ceiling as Lucy laid her head soundly on his chest, arms squeezing him tightly and knees tucking under his thigh.

“Good.” Lucy whispered. Natsu let some magic seep into his hands, warming them as he continued to rub her back in slow strokes, letting his fingertips follow the ridges of bone along her spine or gently graze the dimples that let him know he was pushing how far south he could go. Neither of them were ready for that yet.

But Natsu had hope now that one day, they might be. And even better, they might be ready to acknowledge what they meant to each other. Right now though, under the rain and as Natsu held Lucy in his arms, this was enough. He smiled.

It was definitely enough.

#nalu #fairy tail #just any writing #thanks hun!!!!#this was so long lmaoooooo #requests #kapower #just any answers

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mittensmorgul · 7 years

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I'm not sure calling out Mary for saying "I love you" is entirely fair, or comparing her use of the words to Cas'. Of course she doesn't love Sam and Dean as strongly as Cas does. How could she? She just met them, she's just getting to know them. But I think it's important to remember that even if Mary was raised as a hunter, she was still raised by a very traditional looking family, and the bar for saying "I love you" in a traditional family isn't so damn high. (1/2)

Mary's frame of reference for those words is so different. Mothers tell their children they love them, all the time, for no real reason (I'm generalizing here. I'm aware there are lots of moms who don't do this). Even when they feel distant from you, or they're angry at you, or they don't understand you. I think it says a lot more about what Sam, Dean, and Cas have been through than it does about Mary that in order to say things like that someone has to be dying. (2/2)

Oh, no. I’m not “calling her out” for telling her kids she loves them. I mean, I’m a mom, and I tell my kid “I love you” every day. The thing is, it’s not what I think about the importance or profound meaning behind a casual love declaration like that is. It’s what 12 years of Supernatural has stated this phrase means.

In TWELVE YEARS, Sam and Dean have never ONCE come out and directly said, “I LOVE YOU.” TO ANYONE.

(yeah Dean said it to Mary, while reenacting a scene that had occurred when he was four years old, and he once told Sam-- in his djinn dream-- to tell Mary he loved her)

But as far as we know, Dean hasn’t said those words TO ANYONE in more than 30 years.

Yet I don’t think that any reasonable person could argue that he doesn’t love Sam, or Cas, or Mary... because for Dean the words are meaningless without the proof, and that happens through actions. This isn’t me judging Mary for saying the words, this is how the SHOW ITSELF has established the way Dean understands what it really means to be “family.”

This is how DEAN defines love, explaining it to Crowley in 10.17:

DEAN: Never saw that coming, either. What is it, huh? Why you letting mommy dearest tie you into knots?CROWLEY: Because... We're family. Blood.DEAN: That's not the same thing. A wise man once told me, "family don't end in blood," but it doesn't start there, either. Family cares about you, not what you can do for them. Family's there through the good, bad... all of it. They got your back... even when it hurts. That's family. That sound like your mother?

Someone can SAY “we’re family!” until they’re blue in the damn face, but if they then turn around and stab you in the back and expect you to just roll over and accept it “because we’re family!” then...

I mean going back to 6.21, Cas hadn’t really learned this lesson yet, either. He THOUGHT he had. The whole reason for agreeing to Crowley’s plan to “pop purgatory” was based on the fact that he could leave Dean entirely out of it. He started down this road in an attempt to PROTECT Dean, to leave him “in peace.” And he’d already gone too far down the road, and his desire to keep Dean out of it had already failed.

CASTIEL: I thought you said that we were like family. Well I think that too. Shouldn't trust run both ways?DEAN: Cas, I just can't...CASTIEL: Dean, I do everything that you ask. I always come when you call, and I am your friend. Still, despite your lack of faith in me, and now your threats, I just saved you, yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you? All I ask is this one thing.DEAN: Trust your plan to pop Purgatory?CASTIEL: I've earned that, Dean.

Thing is, Cas was desperate here. If Raphael got that power instead, the apocalypse would start right back up and there would’ve been nothing anybody could’ve done to stop it. He was in an impossible situation.

I think Dean even recognized that, because he couldn’t even offer any viable alternative for Cas. He just knew that nothing good could come of Cas’s current plan. Partly because Cas had done ALL of it behind his back.

That’s one reason I’m relieved that Mary has come at least PARTIALLY clean here as early in the season as she did. It means she still has time to turn back and find another way.

She also doesn’t have the fate of the universe resting on her choices here, the way Cas did when fighting the war in Heaven. There were real stakes involved back then. If he lost, the whole planet would lose.

Mary’s not fighting a war. Not a real one, anyway. And yet, without planet-ending stakes on the table, she’s demanding Sam and Dean trust her choice to work with the MoL, despite what they’ve already experienced about working with them...

And she’s basing her demand that they “hear her out” on the fact that “they’re family.”

Which for Dean is just a different way of telling someone he loves them. People have to EARN that designation, even if they’re blood.

It’s fine for her to say “I love you,” and it’s a biological fact that they’re family. But to Dean, there is a difference between family and ///FAMILY///, and Mary’s violated one of the biggest rules for him:

She didn’t have their backs. She chose the people who’d been party to Sam’s torture over her own sons. And when the whole truth comes out about her part in 12.12, and what she’d really been sent there for... I think there’s going to be a MAJOR sense of betrayal.

Sure, she had no idea things were going to go so horribly wrong there, but if she hadn’t been lying in order to prevent Sam and Dean from finding out the truth about her working with the MoL, they would’ve been able to prevent that entire situation from happening in the first place.

And even AFTER all that went down, she STILL went back to work for the MoL.

That’s just not, in Dean’s definition of the word, what family would do.

All the words in the world can’t make up for her choices and her actions if it hasn’t changed anything. No amount of “I love you’s” can just make that betrayal disappear if she doesn’t actually do anything to demonstrate the fact.

Mary learned that the MoL had given her “bad intel” that nearly got Cas killed and DID get Wally killed. But she accepted Ketch’s apology and went right on working for them. Not only that, she handed over the Colt. If that had been Dean, he would’ve walked away from that arrangement. Like he did after Samuel tried to feed him and Sam to ghouls...

Samuel was “family” too. What would Mary have thought of his choice to resurrect her at the expense of her own sons’ lives? THAT’S NOT HOW WE DO FAMILY AROUND HERE!

Yet, that’s exactly how Mary’s choice to keep working for the MoL feels to Sam and Dean here...

Granted, Samuel had never known Sam and Dean before. They didn’t really mean anything to him. The fact they were Mary’s children was sort of an abstract concept to him. Mary was all that mattered to him.

That’s... kinda monstrous, no?

It’s this twisted bargain to bring back Mary at the expense of Sam and Dean’s lives that made it impossible for ANYTHING Samuel said to overcome that. In 6.16 (granted, it’s while he’s possessed by the Khan worm, but still...)

SAM Put your gun down.SAMUEL What you gonna do, son? You're not gonna shoot me. You got your soul back. You gonna shoot your own family?SAM Yeah, I wouldn't go with the family thing. Try again.

And then later, when Sam is feeling guilty for shooting Samuel:

SAM I don't know. I mean, I barely remember him, and what I do remember – it's not good. And what he did to us...But...DEAN There's a "but"?SAM I mean, I just can't help but think...What would Mom say?DEAN You know what I think Mom would say? She'd say just 'cause you're blood doesn't make you family. You got to earn that.

And just... in the show’s own shorthand, saying “I love you” and then turning around and going right back to work with the MoL are two contradictory things. Saying “we’re family” but then announcing you’ve been secretly working with the people who’ve hurt your family all along negates the family sentiment.

Yes, Mary wants a chance to explain, she wants Sam and Dean to hear her out, but I don’t really think there’s anything she can say to make her choice to continue working for the MoL okay. If at the end of 12.14 she stays on the MoL’s payroll, it would be as bad in Dean’s mind as Samuel feeding them to the ghouls.

And no combination of words can fix that. Only actions can.

One week after the earth-shattering weight of Castiel’s “I love you,” Mary’s casual and repeated use of the phrase despite having kept up this betrayal, combined with her pulling the “we’re family” card when she confessed... and then proceeded to “explain herself...” Well, this had better damn well be one hell of a weighty explanation here to justify those words, at least to Dean.

I’m just saying that the show has instilled both “I love you” and the concept of “Family” with far more meaning than they’d have to anyone else on the planet. To Dean (and to Sam, and even to Cas), they know and understand that these are not terms that are thrown around lightly. And the show has demonstrated over and over again that Mary doesn’t yet understand this.

This will be her “teachable moment.”

#spn 12.13 #spn 12.14 #winchester family dynamics #spn 6.16 #s12 as s6 redux #spn 6.10 #Anonymous

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