#but despite that i still think it's worth examining her character closely | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gildasfantasy · 1 month

Text

Id really like to credit my friend panda for helping me out on editing my story because they noticed mistakes I made <3 besides I'd like to have new ideas so it you guys want me to do something new like, new ships or share your plot ideas it'd be great !! I do oc/yn X any character from any show and game and fluff+nsfw+angst ect!!

First times in a relationship's can be scary especially if everytime you've had sexual contact, it wasn't filled with love you so desperately craved

Husk and angel had formed a friendship after their bonding near the bar that night, it was clear to everyone that there was more than friendship between the two and after awhile they made their attraction be known and a loving relationship blossomed between them but they promised to never let this relationship out the hotel to reach the ears of Valentino, angels boss. Many months has passed since they made it official and they found themselves at the 8 month mark, husk being the awkward romantic he is, he wanted it to be something immensely special for angel just to show how much he genuinely loved him.. Husk examined the stores down the pathways of the somewhat busy area but no matter how hard he searched all he could find was bondage stores, lingerie stores ect; and he didn't want that, he didn't want angel to think he was just like all the rest of the men he had to deal with and additionally, husk wasn't a big.. sex fiend.. sure he got urges but he had boundaries and the thought of leather wear and overly threatening sex felt disgusting to him, so he despised these types of stores..eventually after a long day of trying to search he sighed, he'd been to every ring, even the lust ring, but still he hasn't found what he felt was right for angel, what was he supposed to get for someone that gorgeous? He was down on his luck til he heard two strangers talking down the sidewalk as if they were married and raised his head to look at the imps. One imp had black hair, 'a girl' he noted absent-mindedly, and the other imp had white hair, 'a guy'." 'excuse me? Sorry, I don't mean to listen in on you folks but am I right to assume you're both..?" "Together? Yea we're married' the white haired imp spoke, his voice kind of scratchy that made husks ears twitch ever so slightly, 'great! I need help, me and my boyfriends 8 month mark is comin' up and I can't find anything romantic.. everywhere I look it's just.. sex novels or over-the-top sexual stores.'

The black haired imp girl spoke excitedly, her southern accent bounced off of her husband's demeanor like a bouncy-ball on a whiteboard "Well hi thereee! You're alright to ask, sugar —"

"I'd suggest checkin' out LooLoo Land stores! Even though its a theme park they have the gosh darnedest cutest things, my mox got me a thang from there!' 'christ' husk thought to himself, already he formed a headache solely because of her loud voice but despite it, he thanked her, she was kind enough to help "thanks" *his deep voice grumbled but his expression was as if he were genuinely trying to force an awkward smile and eventually they changed paths and husk found himself on the way to the infamous looloo land, loud blaring music and the sound of kids screaming and crying made husk furrow his brows and groan but it was worth it to find something angel could love..perhaps after an hour of searching he found it.. a stand filled with stuffed animals and one caught his eye immediately.. a white bear with crossed out red eyes stitched in along with round red cheeks at each side of its smile,

he knew it'd be beyond perfect for his angel and he threw a coin at the stand-man, a determined look plastered on his face. Husk picked up the toy-gun and shot water at the wooden stands. No matter the amount of times he hit them though, the standman rigged the game and after draining his coin pocket dry, Husk had enough and tackled the man. Pulling him close by the collar and holding a sharp claw up to his neck. "Give me the fuckin' bear." He growled, and while he would usually never lose his composure, he was not going to let that bear be dangled in front of him. Feeling the man shudder with a nod, he backed away to let him grab his prize; the bear and his money back in full. He loved it, the texture of the bear and the way it felt on his fur made him know Angel would adore it. A proud look made its way to his face subtly and he walked out of the park happily, believing that to be enough from LooLoo land today. he deserved everything. Angel deserved the universe, in Husk's eyes and as he walked, he found his eyes gravitating towards a jumper on the way back home. It was beautiful; the jumper was white with flowers trailing up the sleeves in pink stitching and a heart cutout on the chest and on the back. It looked as if it was made for Angel, with a lighter wallet and a newfound bag in his claws, along with a bouquet of Devil-Eye flowers (Mammon Special!) he made his way back home. Husk smiled as he walked through those hotel doors and stood in front of sir pentiouses big portrait on the wall and sighed. "Wish me luck, buddy." he muttered as he made his way to the second floor of the hotel and faced the door of Angel's room, staring at the picture of his boyfriend and their friends. It made Husk's heart melt and his fur grow hot at the beauty of Angel. with courage that took a few minutes to tame, he twisted the doorknob and opened it to see his Angel sitting with a book in his top hands. He cleared his throat lowly and watched as Angel perked up and smiled, "Whiska's! Ya made it!" he said In disbelief

lord, Angel adored husk more than afterlife itself

He knew Husk was genuine, but a part of him still doubted he'd show up for their 8th month. He was pleasingly surprised to be wrong as he pecked both sides of Husk's face and massaged his fingers into his cheek fluff and slid them up to scratch behind his ears; causing Husk to purr and melt lovingly into his touch and for his leg to ever so slightly start thumping "ah what's this then husky, this fa' mee?" Angel said teasingly, his tone joking to ready himself to be wrong. Angel couldn't believe it, he nervously took the gifts and smiled at the bouquet 'husk' he spoke 'i don't know what ta' say..' his voice seemed much softer as he sat down in his bed, the silk curtains draped up and the pink lighting above set such a pretty tone to the scene.. he placed the flowers down against his bedside table before taking a look at the jumper, sliding straight into it and it fit so perfectly. Husk could barely believe his eyes, all four arms fit so perfectly and angel suited it so well, it made husk feel hot N heavy, his cheeks slightly pink tinted 'i knew you'd like it ange' " he smiled softly just before angels tears slipped, his hand covering one side of his face to wipe his tears.. husk didn't know how to respond, 'aye what's wrong ange'.. do you not like it? I can take it bac-" "no!- no I love it I just.. didn't.. expect it' he admitted with a smile.. the two of his arms connected to his waist wrapped around himself like a self hug.. his heart was racing and in that moment husk was the only one he cared for, the only one he ever wanted to be with and die with.. he placed a kiss against husks lips, but it was soft, like their lips had barley even touched.. and before he could respond again he made contact with the bear husk had 'won' for him and got ecstatic "huska' it looks like me' awh you big-' he immediately wrapped his arms around husk and buried his cheek into his head, his fingertips stroking his cheek.. Husk laughed and held angels back to pull him closer, like this hug wasn't enough contact for him.. in the moment it's like a piece of a puzzle finally clicked and he took a deep breath, pulling away and holding one of angels hand 'i.. want.. you to know I'm ready' he smiled and this confused angel, 'ready fa' what huskie..' he responded like his heart dropped to his stomach 'to be intimate with you' he whispered, his eyes drifting up to meet angels gaze 'oh.. huska' don't force ya'self for lil ol' me.. I can wai-" "no, I want this.. I want you but I don't know.. what, I'm doing.. I'm scared I'll embarrass myself y'know' he sighed as he traced his fingers through his hair to push it back, a huff leaving his lips and his eyelashes fluttering shut to avoid angels stare 'aright then but.. I.. can help, we all start somewhere yaknow?'

It'd been awhile since husk had been intimate with anyone, the last time he did he was alive and walking earth, but this felt so different because he WANTED to be perfect for angel.. so he smiled and took his boyfriends hands, and kissing him, a passionate, gentle kiss that burned straight through with not just love but lust too, for once angel felt genuinely... Turned on by the thought of sex and he slowly shuffled down, propping himself up on his bottom elbows while his other arms hoisted around husks neck, the dim room only lit by the pink lighting above angels bed had made it feel so much more perfect, husk, being the nervous guy he was didn't know where to touch him so instinctively he moved his hands up to hold angels chest fluff and immediately angel pushed back, panting with only drool stringing their lips together, 'shit, I'm sorry' husk said immediately before angel shook his eyes, eyes wide and breath heavy 'nono, husk it's okay I just want expecting it, it's hard to..' husk frowned and lay flat against angel, his head against his chest fluff 'we don't have to do this ange' trust me I'm not a sex-maniac, I'll wait til you can feel safer with this whole thing' he spoke reassuringly, his hands moving up to hold angels cheeks, swirling his thumb just under his eye 'husk, it's fine, I want this but it's hard to.. know what people are gonna do when all I've ever been through was abuse and unconsenting touchy sex yaknow..' 'yea I know sweetheart' husk lifted himself up a little, angels legs around his waist as he peppered soft kisses down his neck towards his arms 'ill be gentle with you my love.. let me show you what love is, trust me, all I ever want to make you feel is my love'

And with that angel smiled and nodded, his head slowly cocking back as a sign of angel giving himself over to husk, at this point they could hear their own heartbeats as well as each others heartbeat, the sensuality raising the heat through the roof as husk slipped off angels shorts..his hand sliding down his hips and down his v-line til eventually he found himself grasping at angels cock, slowly moving his hand in a up and down motion while undressing himself, angels moans felt like music to his ears, knowing he was capable of actually making angel feel good sent knots of love and lust into his gut and he craved so much more..

but at the same time, watching angels face, his brows furrow and his mouth agape, his pretty waist jolting up and his hips bucking into husks touch as if he wanted more friction, god he looked gorgeous like that and husk let his desires take control. He pulled his hand away and slid his arms under angels back with his palms behind angels head, fingers interlocked into his hair before finding himself entering angels hole, a groan leaving his lips while angel wrapped his arms around husk, their bodies close enough to make the heat somehow hotter, angel seemed to grip onto husks fur and pull like he needed even closer so husk obliged and pushed himself up against angel, his head buried in his chest fluff and loud purrs alongside moans escaped his lips, he was quite the sensitive man, not very aggressive dominant, and angel adored it, The shockwaves of love being pumped into angel overwhelmed him, when it was more loving, it just felt better to angel, he let this pleasure be known via his whimpers, moans, cries, whispered begs for more, not just that but his body reacted so strangely.. his legs twitched and perked up sometimes and his hips arched upwards, the spiders hands gently stretching behind husks ears 'good kitty' angel whispered 'fuck, my god' hmmnph.." be cried out quietly all the while husk slowly thrusted into angel, his dick twitching inside angel causing a reaction from both of them, husker tightened his hug like grip on angel, holding him closely 'i love you, i love you, god.. i love you angie..' he moaned in chants, his hips bucking and his hands squeezing his hair, gently tugging at it as he opened his mouth, drooling a little as he did so.

Angel let his head fall back and succumbed to husks movements and words, his eyes slowly drifting backwards and eventually his moans became so loud that they clogged his throat sometimes, he was choking on his own pleasure.. his legs squeezing around husks waist and his hands unable to comprehend where to hold next. He wanted all of husk so he tried to speak through his moans despite the struggle 'i love ya.. t..oo..gh..whiskas" he whined out just as he felt himself release on his own chest..his hand moving up to cover his mouth and muffle his pretty moans.. and the sight of that to husk sent electricity down his guts, and almost like a wild animal, his last thrusts became power filled and he moved his arms from under angel, he found himself squeezing under angels thighs while also lifting them up a little, and let himself vunerabalise, his semen filling angel quickly. He forgot how good it felt to be intimate like that with someone and it was enough to make them both moan while hugging at eachother tightly.. the relaxation setting in while they gently rode their high out together "Christ" husk huffed through a chuckle, slowly pulling away from angel and sitting up, his eyes focusing on the quite red and lovely spider Infront of him.. he finally faced his fear and he did it, he let himself be that vulnerable with someone, "You ain't gonna leave are ya?' angel said almost nervously, despite his broken speaking and loud breathing, there was a sense of seriousness and scarseness to it 'what? No, no, baby, I'm just gonna get ya something to eat.. I ain't gonna just have sex with ya and not treat ya like a prince after' he reassured while standing up, sliding on a dark red robe he left behind the last time he went to angels, a smile forming from ear to ear that made angel feel easy 'ya really doin' that fa' me?' he spoke back as he pulled up the silk bedsheets, not taking his eyes of husk the entire time.

'of course ange, sweetheart, you deserve it' husk responded while leaning in and laying a kiss on angels forehead

#angel dust x husk #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #hazbin husk #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #vaggie #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #verbalase #smutty smut smut #smut tag #smutty fanfiction #fluff #Spotify

25 notes · View notes

lightandfellowship · 1 year

Text

Examining Vor's motivations

(Major KHDR spoilers)

So if you’ve experienced KHDR's story, then you’re probably aware of how...confusing and seemingly contradictory Vor’s motivations are, at least on an initial viewing. Because of this lack of clarity surrounding her circumstances and inner thoughts, it can be a little difficult to get a solid grasp on her character. However, I think her motivations, feelings, and choices start to make a lot more sense once you analyze her cutscenes closely. The key to understanding her, I think, is realizing how human her emotions are. And human emotions are oftentimes a complex web of contradictory ideas that can't always be easily defined, explained, or reconciled.

In light of this, I decided to engage in some character analysis where I examine her story more in-depth, going over some scenes from the game and trying to break down her motivations into something a bit more easily understood. (Also be forewarned that this post is fairly long and image heavy, so you might want to open it in a new tab or something.)

So, Episodes 1-2 aren’t very useful for analyzing Vor’s character, one because not much happens in those episodes, and two because those episodes utilize the “pick your party member” system where the characters are sometimes interchangable without many significant alterations of dialog (sometimes no alterations at all.) Technically Episode 3 uses the same system, but at least here the dialog changes are substantial enough to make a bit of a difference. So let’s just start with the end of Episode 2 and go from there.

(FYI, I wanted to use even more images in this post, but I was running into some issues, so I decided to reduce the number of them. I apologize if the lack of an image in certain places creates any confusion.)

Episode 2/3

The end of Episode 2 has Vor noticing that Xehanort and Eraqus are scheming a plan together, and she's suspicious/curious enough to (rather forcefully) insert herself into the group so that she can get all the juicy details. That is if you choose to take her with you as your third party member, which...why wouldn’t you? It’s clearly what the story wants you to do.

But just for the sake of thoroughness, know that if you don't pick her, she'll dramatically pout with a "Aww..." and look really sad while everyone else smiles. It's played for laughs but she honestly looks pretty upset about it.

Anyway, when you give in to her request, she’s very pleased. She jumps up and down excitedly and says that Xehanort and Eraqus won’t regret bringing her along (even though Eraqus looks pretty unhappy about it). Even as early as this moment you can see that Vor likes being included in things and getting the opportunity to prove her usefulness/worth to her friends. As the episode goes on it becomes even more clear:

She gets upset when Eraqus still refuses to let her in on the plan despite allowing her to tag along, throwing a tantrum and smacking him repeatedly.

"Don't look so surprised. You made it pretty obvious." She reveals that she's way more observant than they give her credit for, correctly guessing that their plan involves the Queen of Hearts and her darkness.

"...so you were going to leave me to do your own research!"

She gets upset again when she finally learns the details of their plan and questions why they were leaving her out of it/refusing to let her help them.

And finally when Xehanort and Eraqus explain that they didn’t want to involve anyone else for fear of their classmates getting hurt, Vor ignores their concerns and confidently declares that they should go visit the queen together. Xehanort and Eraqus are, in a way, trying to exclude her from their plans with the excuse that she might come to harm, but she won't let them leave her behind.

Again, just to reiterate: it’s clear that she loves her friends a lot, wants to be included in everything they do, wants to feel like a useful, strong, reliable member of the team, and something that will be stated more directly later: she wants to feel like she belongs somewhere.

Episode 4

Where all the important stuff actually happens, but mostly at the end.

But some details of minor relevance before we get to that: Vor is the first one to rush off to help the seven dwarves when Xehanort, Eraqus, and Vor overhear that a cave-in happened in a mine. Makes sense; she’s naturally curious and likes to be helpful.

After they help the dwarves reunite, Vor makes a comment about how the seven dwarves remind her of her and her six classmates. Her friends and her place among them is fresh on her mind, for reasons that aren't known to the player yet but get revealed soon afterwards.

She also looks pretty pleased with herself to have a solution to Xehanort and Eraqus’ problem, when they say that tracking down Darkness isn't going to be easy. Vor corrects them, and reveals that she discovered an all-knowing Mirror that could potentially solve all of their problems. Again, this ties in to her desire to be a helpful member of the team.

But anyway, on to the actual meat of this whole thing.

Xehanort, Eraqus, and Vor go to speak to the Magic Mirror. The Queen interrupts their discussion, throws a potion at the mirror, and the group fights it. After it's defeated Vidar shows up, and compels Vor to reveal A Secret.

Here we learn through a flashback that when Vor first discovered the mirror, she discretely asked it a question of her own without telling her friends that she did this. She asked it if she would ever become a Keyblade Master.

A single sentence question, but it implies a lot about Vor. The fact that she’s asking this at all means that she isn’t confident in her abilities or her future. Even the use of the word "ever" suggests a level of desperation to her query.

So here's the thing: when Eraqus approaches the mirror, his first instinct is to ask a silly question like “How can I beat Xehanort at chess?”, and Xehanort makes no attempt to ask the mirror a personal question at all (though knowing him he would probably ask about his dream friends like MX does later in life). I imagine even if Hermod, Urd, and Bragi had the opportunity to ask the mirror a question, it wouldn’t be about the possibility of them failing to become a Keyblade Master, it would be about something else that bothers them. So I think this anxiety about failure might be unique to Vor specifically.

But what makes her think that she might not become a Keyblade Master? Some possibilities: maybe she feels like she’s falling behind on her studies compared to her friends. Maybe she feels like she’s become complacent in her comfort. Or maybe she feels like people underestimate her abilities because of her appearance and stature (Xehanort and Eraqus were shocked at her picking up that boulder, after all.) Vor is very observant and has a good intuition (even her name comes from a Norse goddess with this exact reputation) so if people were looking down on her, I think she would notice quickly. And this might be why she’s so eager/persistent to be included in activities and allowed to be useful. She feels like she has to prove herself constantly in order to be on the same level as her friends.

Anyway. The mirror gives its answer but it wasn’t the reassurance she was hoping for. “With friends thy heart doth lie, content and free of woe / In comfort stagnant calm, forward thou fail to go.” Let’s break this down line by line before we get into her reaction.

“With friends thy heart doth lie”. She spends a lot of time with her friends, yes, but also the focus of her heart, the focus of her affections, is directed at her friends (wouldn’t surprise me if they’re the most important people in the world to her).

“Content and free of woe”. She has a pretty good life with her friends, for the most part. “Content” doesn’t necessarily equate to an overabundance of happiness though, the connotation of it is like...satisfactory enough. Right? “I’m content with something” vs. “I’m overjoyed with something”. Things could...probably be better? Maybe underneath the surface Vor can tell that something is wrong, but since things are Good Enough, she doesn’t try to think about it too hard, y’know? Don’t fix what isn’t broken. This Is Fine. If I try to improve things I might accidentally make things worse instead.

“In comfort stagnant calm”. Comfort. Something that eases the pain. Friends who make you forget about the pain. Stagnant. Unchanging, unmoving, lifeless or unable to support life effectively (like stagnant water), unable to progress or develop or improve. Your friends are moving forward and bursting with potential and you are not. Calm. Stillness. Peace. But it’s unexciting, unrewarding, you’re not being challenged by anything or anyone and it isn’t conducive to improvement or learning.

“Forward thou fail to go.” Pretty open-ended wording, but since Vor was specifically asking about becoming a Keyblade Master, that must be the subject matter the mirror was answering about. For whatever reason being with her friends is going to prevent her from becoming a master. I kinda have a theory that the mirror was basically saying (in his usual cryptic unhelpful way) “if you stay with your friends you won’t become a Keyblade Master because you will DIE” but who knows.

Vor takes this. Not well. In fact, she’s very angry. She runs up to the mirror, gets right up in its face and yells at it, and then raises both of her arms up into the air like she wants to break it. We've seen this before where she’ll smack Eraqus over and over again (despite her official bio saying she shies away from battle, she’s surprisingly prone to some mild violence) but it almost seems like she’s ready to kill this thing, lmao.

She does say something interesting though. First she yells “That’s not true!” and then clarifies “I want to become a Keyblade Master as much as everyone else!”

Is that true? Is she just as motivated as everyone else? Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll get to that.

But the Mirror’s matter-of-fact statement about being literally incapable of lying makes her calm down real quick with a quiet "Oh."

We flashfoward back to the present. Vor explains her feelings in more detail.

She says that recently, she started to realize how she really feels. I think the moment she’s referring to is actually shown in the game: it’s the flashback that plays at the end of this scene where the lower classmen discuss their reasons for wanting to become Keyblade Masters. So let’s go out of order a little bit and talk about that.

Vor asks all her friends why they want to become Keyblade Masters. It’s hard to say exactly why she brings this up, whether she had a specific reason or if it was just idle chatter. Everyone gives their reasons and at the end Eraqus returns the question to Vor. Why do you want to become a Keyblade Master, Vor? And wow Vor practically goes through the five stages of grief within the span of five seconds when asked this.

First she’s a little taken aback, like she didn’t have an answer prepared (because she didn’t). Then she looks confused, like she’s NEVER BEFORE asked herself this question and is suddenly realizing that her brain can’t find motivation dot exe. Then she looks HORRIFIED, the true implications of what this means dawning on her. And then realizing that she needs to put back on her cheerful mask before her friends start to suspect something, she pulls herself together enough to come up with an excuse for why she can’t answer. She makes a joke about how wishes won’t come true if you say them out loud so HAH I tricked all of you! Now NONE of you will become Keyblade Masters!

So. Okay. That was a lot of emotions she just went through in a short period of time. But what does it all mean? I think it means that she never once stopped to consider why she wanted to become a Keyblade Master, because she was just following in her friends’ footsteps. She wants to go wherever her friends go, that’s all. Like a baby duck following a bunch of other baby ducks. Oh, all of my friends are joining the Keyblade wielder program? That’s gonna take up a lot of their time and I won’t get to spend as much time with them as a result...wait, what if I join too? Then I get to hang out with them during school and outside of school, and we get to go to class together and do activites together and go to lunch together and I get to belong somewhere and and and! Oh, why would I want to become a Keyblade Master? Shhhh don’t ask me that la la la la I can’t hear you!!!

What’s interesting though is that despite seemingly coming to realize that she might not actually have her own personal motivations for becoming a Keyblade Master, she still asks the mirror if she'll ever become one as if she still wants to. Maybe it’s not a matter of needing to find a different path in life, maybe she just needs to find a better reason for wanting to become a Keyblade Master? Or maybe she just wants to prove herself capable and strong enough to accomplish this feat? Or maybe she was in denial? I guess denial would make the most sense actually since she reacted pretty strongly to the mirror's implication that she wasn’t as motivated as her friends, even though she’s probably already realized this about herself at this point.

Her lack of a definite reason isn’t the only thing she realizes, though. She also realizes that even if she finds her true motivation, even if she successfully becomes a Keyblade Master, one of her other desires will inevitably escape from her grasp: her desire to be with her friends. Because for whatever reason, the path of the Keyblade Master requires them to go on their own separate paths. And even in the scenario where Vor fails to become a Master, she has no reason to believe that her friends will fail alongside her, meaning that they would all eventually leave her to go do their own thing anyway.

So, you can see where all the contradictory feelings start to converge. She wants to become a Keyblade Master. She doesn’t want to become a Keyblade Master. Actually, maybe she does want to become a Keyblade Master? But in the very least she wants to do it for a better reason than “because her friends are doing it”. But wait, if she and her friends become Keyblade Masters, then they’ll go their separate ways and they won’t be together anymore. Vor doesn’t think she can handle that. But what could she possibly do to prevent that? She can’t ask her friends to give up on their dreams just to make her happy. So is separation inevitable, then? In that case, how can she reduce the pain of that separation? The longer she stays with her friends, the more she’ll grow to love them, and the harder the separation will be. But what if she left now? Wouldn’t that be easier in the long run? Plus, the mirror said that staying with her friends will prevent her from growing, so isn't leaving undeniably a good thing?

And so she leaves.

It seems that Vor’s departure from the group kills two birds with one stone: leaving her comfortable bubble allows her to escape the stagnation that’s been plaguing her development, and it also allows her to preemptively nip in the bud the pain that’s only going to grow more and more unbearable over time. She’s essentially ripping the bandaid off in one fell swoop rather than peeling it back slowly and painfully.

As for Vidar...at least initially, Vor’s decison to help him probably had nothing to do with wanting to help him and everything to do with just needing a good excuse to finally bite the bullet. He gave her an out and she took it. After all, Vidar gave her NO EXPLANATION whatsoever on what his plans were. How could she possibly judge whether or not he was worth helping with zero information to go off of? However, once she finds out that Vidar is trying to do something “noble” and “good” (defeat darkness) I imagine it wasn’t too hard to get her on board. Though I’d be curious to know what she thought about the whole “purging the world” thing. Unless he just kept that part under wraps and was vague about what “defeating darkness” actually entailed.

The next time we see Vor after her departure is in the lamp room in Agrabah. She doesn’t say much in this scene other than reiterating that she wants to help Vidar. However, there are two moments during this scene where I think we can get a glimpse at what she's really thinking. The first:

Here we see Hermod angrily denouncing Vidar's plan, saying that what they're doing is wrong. And Vor looks pretty startled and upset about that. She's probably not too comfortable knowing that her friends don't approve of what she's doing.

Second, is when Vidar says this:

And now look at how her expression changes with each line of dialog.

She starts off sad/worried, then becomes a little more despondent, and then gets really upset (eyes shut tight).

Vidar talks about losing sight of what's truly important, and when Xehanort asks what that important thing is, Vidar basically says "my friends, and us fighting by each other's side."

Interesting thing to say in front of someone who you helped convince to leave her friends, and therefore is no longer fighting by their side...

You could argue that Vor is only making these faces because she's sad/upset about what happened to the upperclassmen, but it's so much more interesting to me to think that in this moment, she's starting to seriously doubt her decision to leave.

One other thing. At the end of this scene when she’s about to leave, there’s a pretty sad moment between her and Eraqus. Vor looks at Eraqus, who is GLARING DAGGERS at her. She's upset about it for a split second before her expression becomes determined instead (sucking it up, trying to harden her resolve). She walks through the portal and leaves, and Eraqus, perhaps realizing that his anger isn’t actually making him feel any better, drops his glare and goes back to being sad instead. But here's the thing: she never sees him drop his anger. She leaves thinking that Eraqus hates her right now. Why is that important? Because it’s the last interaction they have before they meet up again during Vor’s death scene. Oh. Great. :’)

Speaking of her death scene. Yeah that’s the next time we see her. Or, we see her talking to Baldr a couple of times before this, but her death scene is the next relevant topic.

Vor apologies, saying she messed up big time. Eraqus incorrectly assumes she's talking about...her death? Not being able to stop Baldr? Something like that. But she clarifies she's not talking about now, she's talking about her decision to leave her friends behind. Leaving them was a mistake. A mistake that, in her eyes, was her fault. Since she's dying she doesn't really delve into why it was a mistake or how she came to that realization. Instead she simply states "This is where I belong."

Whatever happened on her journey with Vidar, she must have concluded that leaving her friends early on in order to minimize her pain later wasn't the right call. Why? Because her true place of belonging was with them, regardless of the inevitable pain that may result from that.

Perhaps she thinks that leaving them was a moment of weakness, that she should have been stronger, strong enough to endure the pain. Perhaps she thinks that her friends deserved better, didn't deserve to be "selfishly" abandoned by her. Perhaps she realized that Vidar's plan was wrong and she shouldn't have left her friends to join him. Or perhaps she simply realized that being separated from them actually caused her more pain in the long run, which would kinda defeat the point of her decision to leave them in the first place. Either way, she ultimately changes her mind about leaving her friends, seemingly re-finding her purpose in a life she already had before but now has tragically lost.

Without further information about Vor's journey, it's hard to say if she ever got closure to...anything. Does she still want to be a Keyblade Master, or no? Is she still afraid of change/not changing? What does her decision to return to her friends mean for her character? Because like, it's entirely possible that her choice to return was a form of character regression, where she realized that she couldn't handle being disconnected from comfort and familiarity. Or maybe it wasn't! Maybe she realized that she could fight against her stagnation and her tendency to follow others without having to abandon everyone in her life to accomplish that, and we just don't get to see that because she died prematurely. With so little information to go off of, I think it ultimately comes down to personal interpretation. What flavor of tragedy do you want her death to be? What kind of resolution do you want for her character arc (positive or negative)? Is the tragedy of her death that she crawled back to her bubble and remained stagnant? Or is it that she died right as she achieved enlightenment about her true desires and her place in the world, meaning she didn't get to reap the benefits of her character development?

Anyway, that's about everything I have to say about Vor for now. If you have any thoughts or feedback, feel free to send them my way in the form of tags, reblogs, replies, or asks. I'd be curious to hear other people's interpretations of Vor's character and story. Especially if I missed any important details that you think are essential to understanding her.

Thanks for reading!

#khdr #kingdom hearts dark road #kingdom hearts #kh dark road #kh vor #vor kh #rambling about kh #rambling about dim path #ch tag: vo #ch tag: era #ch tag: vid #ch tag: xeh #khdr spoilers #long post

38 notes · View notes

babyjamiebarnes · 3 years

Text

Build-A-Bear

Part One

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters

Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence

Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?

Author’s Note: I’ve written a decent portion of this but know I won’t keep writing it or post it unless I hold myself accountable and get it out there in the first place 🙈 I haven’t written much for Marvel yet but I’ve read plenty and have written for other fandoms in the past (not to mention the writing degree on my wall lol). I’ll try to post every 2-3 days to keep this moving! And if you like it and want to, buy me a coffee!

No one knew Tony Stark had a daughter. No one but Tony Stark and his daughter. Well, and her step-mom Pepper. And her godfather Rhodey. And her uncle-not-uncle Happy. But no one in their everyday lives knew. She was given her mother’s maiden name and kept a secret, even when she turned 17 and moved to a small apartment near NYU’s campus (with Happy stationed right next door, of course) to start life as a truly normal adult, or as close to normal as an undercover Stark could be. When she graduated with her PhDs in robotics and electrical engineering at 25 — proving brains really do run in the family — she moved into her own apartment in Manhattan, funded by her father under the pseudonym “Michael Myers.” Subtlety was never his strong suit.

Fortunately for you, growing up without the Stark name let you live a relatively normal life. It also allowed you to apply for a position within Stark Industries without being ushered past any red tape because of who your father is. Outside of the financial advantage you had, you worked for your spot in a STEM career. You suffered through every man in your field belittling your work despite knowing less than you. You dealt with the constant interruptions and “well, actually” because of your gender. You powered through late nights and early mornings when your mind was flowing too smoothly to quit.

The last thing you wanted to do was have all that work disregarded because you shared a name with genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark. So you filled out the application, sent in your resume and cover letter, and attached three letters of recommendation from your professors. You went through hours of interviews, background checks (conveniently redacting your father’s name), and polygraph tests until that offer letter showed up in your email. You even had to sign the Non-Disclosure Agreements that would bar you from discussing *anything* work-related with anyone outside of your department.

You spent your first year in the weapons analysis department, evaluating alien weaponry and determining how it worked and how to disable it. You had your fair share of mishaps, of course. Holes blasted into walls, fried robot dummies, even burnt animal carcasses. By the end of your first year, your supervisor sent a commendation and proposal for you for an undisclosed promotion. After Pepper Potts “thoroughly examined your resume, cover letter, and accomplishments during your tenure with Stark Industries,” as the letter read, you were awarded a position working on the Avengers’ weapons as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist. You’d never see a fight in-person, but you were assigned to work on advancements and post-battle repairs for everyone, from the Winter Soldier’s arm to the Falcon’s wings to Vision’s... everything. The only heroes you wouldn’t work on were Iron Man and War Machine (those were your dad’s territory) and Spider-Man.

On your first day in your new position, the one and only Pepper Potts showed you to your new lab on the 47th floor. It took all your willpower to look your step-mother in the eye and say, “Wow, Miss Potts. This is amazing. It’s such an honor to meet you,” with a straight face to convince any passerby that you had no outside affiliation with her. Even if her eyes stayed steady on you, you could see her mentally rolling them.

Once you were alone behind the doors of the elevator, conversation changed course.

“You’re going to be sharing a lab with someone else,” Pepper said.

“Sweet. As long as they’re competent, that’s fine by me,” you shrugged. Part of earning your degrees was learning to share a workspace with others, even those who bumbled and fumbled with no idea what they were doing. You’d had more hair singed by nearby explosions than you’d like to admit.

“He’s still in college so he’s not here as often as the others. Most of his work will be on Spider-Man’s gadgets and suit, but you can use him for any help you need.”

Walking past the familiar faces of Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho in their respective labs, Pepper ushered you into your lab, where you were met by your father and put on the same excited facade you did with Pepper.

“Oh my god, you’re Tony Stark! This is incredible! It’s such an honor to meet you, sir!”

He shook his head at you and reluctantly accepted your outstretched hand. Oh, the jokes you’d be making at family dinners.

“Yeah, anyway, this is your new lab, Miss [Y/L/N]. Make yourself at home. This lab rat over here is mister Parker. If you have any questions, he can at least bullshit an answer for you.”

The young man on the other side of the lab perked up at the sound of his name. He tugged the goggles off his face and set down his soldering rod to rush over to you.

“Hi. Hi, I’m Peter,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.

“I’m [Y/N]. It’s nice to meet you, lab partner.”

He looked to be a bit younger than you and at least relatively smart, if the MIT sweatshirt peeking out from under his lab coat said anything. If your dad gave him an internship like this, you knew you shouldn’t question it. He had to be a genius.

The kid just smiled at you, continuing to shake your hand past what most would deem socially acceptable.

“Okay, enough of that,” Tony said, pushing on your joined hands to separate you two. “Mister Parker might be in and out of the lab from time to time. He joins the Avengers on the occasional recon mission for immediate repairs but since he’s on break from classes, you’ll see him more often than not. Play nice.”

When he noticed you surreptitiously looking Peter up and down, he added, “Remember, no fraternizing with coworkers.” He pointed a finger directly at you before he spun and pointed to your fellow lab mate, realizing he should warn Peter too to save face.

“All the blueprints you need for the Tin Man’s arm are in the system. We’ll have you start on that and see what you can do about minimizing the sound that thing makes. Any other questions, give Pep a call.”

“Thank you, mister Stark. I really do appreciate everything,” you said genuinely.

“Yeah, well… don’t let me down,” he replied, patting you on the shoulder on his way out. Pepper followed close behind, leaving you alone with Peter Parker.

“So Peter,” you started, sliding onto the lab chair next to where he remained standing, “tell me about yourself.”

“Uh… what do you want to know?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

“How old are you?” you asked immediately.

“I’m 21.”

Only four years younger than you. So you’d probably get along just fine.

“I assume you’re at MIT?” He nodded. “What are you studying?”

“Biomolecular and mechanical engineering.” He said it so casually, you’d think he was talking about the last song he heard on the radio.

“Damn,” you responded, eyes wide. “I thought robotics and electrical engineering was wild but fuck, that sounds like hell.”

He laughed and nodded, letting a bit of the tension in his shoulders fall. “Yeah, it’s not easy. But it’s worth it.”

He shot you a small smile before gesturing back at his project. “I should probably get back to work and let you get started.”

For the rest of the day, you familiarized yourself with the Winter Soldier’s arm to figure out how to… turn the volume down? You assumed it was the gears inside causing the noise, but part of you wanted to outfit an audio jack and speaker just to fuck with your dad.

You and Peter worked in relative silence, aside from the playlist he had quietly playing through the lab sound system. When lunch rolled around, however, you finally spoke up.

“Hey Peter,” you called, his eyes flicking from the chemical beakers in front of him up to you. “First of all, what are you doing?”

“Um, it’s Spider-Man’s web fluid. Just trying to find more durable combinations.”

“Interesting.” As much as you wanted to touch the stringy substance, you knew better than to fiddle with someone else’s lab work. “Okay so second thing, in my last position, I’d just order food and have it brought to my floor but now that I’m on an exclusive floor, what do you do for lunch?”

“Oh, there are a couple security guys who have clearance to come into this floor. They just can’t get into any rooms so you’d have to meet them at the elevator. But I usually find something in the kitchen down the hall.”

“Oh, sweet. Thanks!” you said as you made your way out the door. Before you could fully exit, you turned back to see if Peter wanted you to grab anything. Once he promised he’d take his own break ‘once I get this one thing figured out,’ you continued to make your way to the kitchen.

As you drew closer to the doorway, you could hear three voices speaking over each other. They didn’t sound angry, but they were definitely arguing. You opened the door anyway and almost immediately froze in your tracks. The Falcon stood with one hand on his own head and one on the Winter Soldier’s head while Captain America rolled his eyes before those same eyes landed on you, along with the rest of the room.

“Perfect,” Sam started. “Hey new girl, between the three of us,” he said, pointing to himself, the Soldier, and the Captain, “who has the best hair?”

“First of all, my name is [Y/N]. Second,” you continued, making your way past them to the fridge you hoped your dad kept stocked with goodies, “that’s an unfair question.”

You grabbed a soda and popped it open before turning back to the three men. “Your hair suits each of you. Cap wouldn’t look good with Winter Soldier hair and Falcon wouldn’t look good with Cap’s hair.” You took a few steps closer, leaning against the island counter between you and eyeing each of them. Your eyes settled on the Winter Soldier, unashamedly flitting across his face and admiring the sharpness of his features. “You,” pointing at him, “could probably pull off either of their looks, though.”

Bucky smirked at you, but his rosy cheeks gave away a hint of embarrassment at your compliment. Steve and Sam, on the other hand, weren’t taking it quite as gracefully.

“What?!” Sam shouted. “Okay, now I know you’re lying. I could pull off Cap’s hair for sure.”

“You know, I think shaggy hair would really suit me,” Cap said, only half sarcastically.

You giggled to yourself as the three of them started talking over each other again, all dead set on their own hair being the best of them and positive they could pull off the others’ looks. While they bickered, you searched the pantry until you found a snack to at least get you through the remainder of the day.

“Alright boys, it’s been fun but I have work to do,” you said as you walked past them again. “Actually, wait. Bucky — can I call you Bucky?” He nodded even though you continued anyway. “If you could stop by lab six today, I’d love to check out your arm in person. The digital renderings aren’t quite the same.”

“Uh, okay. Sure. I’ll find you,” he said quietly.

“Sweet, thanks!” And with that, you skedaddled back to your lab.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x Stark!reader #Stark!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series #bucky x Stark!reader

448 notes · View notes

some-kindofgnome · 3 years

Text

for auld lang syne

“And then I woke up in the hospital alone, and I saw the doctor alone and took a taxi home alone. I went to physical therapy alone and saw my counsellor alone. Whatever you thought, Katsuki, whatever you believed made me spend six months staring at my phone and thinking I’d ruined everything.”

It’s time for your agency’s extravagant New Years’ Eve party. But after a little sabbatical, there are some things you’re not ready to come back to.

characters: katsuki bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.2k

warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, pro hero!bakugou and pro hero!reader, mentions of injury, near-death experiences and gunshots, smoking, drinking, angst with a (filthy) happy ending, me being a whore for glamorous new years’ parties

notes: This fic has been dragging me across the coals since Christmas- I could not get it out of my head, despite how much work I knew it would be to get it out on time. Still, it feels supremely worth it. I have a metric ton of love to give to @hoe-doroki for beta-ing this mammoth on such short notice (I dumped it in her lap at 4am) because she really helped me whip it into shape. As always. 💖

Happy New Year, everyone.

(MASTERLIST)

“Won’t be long now.”

Anxiety bleeds into the already-nervous voice of your driver, muffled by the plexiglass divider that separates you. You’ve been sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic for the past four red lights, barely inching toward the intersection with every green.

You’re well past fashionably late at this point. You’re sure that the commissioned driver’s fearing for his job at this point, knowing exactly how long ago you were supposed to have arrived at your own party.

But you couldn’t care less. The longer it takes you to get there, the better. The vodka you’d downed neat, standing over the bar cart in your polished apartment, sours in the pit of your stomach. And the fact that your outfit barely allows a spare breath isn’t exactly cooling your nerves, either.

You’re draped over the door, resting one elbow on its edge to cushion your jaw as you lay your forehead against the chilly glass. Outside, the crowded traffic casts a golden warmth over the bluish urban night, betraying the slow swirl of fluffy snowflakes that drift lazily into the street.

Tonight has all the makings for an ideal, albeit bitterly cold, New Year’s Eve. But if it were up to you, you’d be watching all the wonder unfold from the comfort of your own bed.

You’ve been away long enough, though, says your agent. It’s time, says your manager. You stay away from the spotlight for too long and we’re going to forget about you, says the Internet.

The glittering gold fabric your stylist presented you with would’ve swelled your heart on any other occasion. He knows your taste to the button. And after breaking into exhausted sobs at your first fitting together, you’d been able to tell him that the outfit was perfect.

At long last, the glossy windows of your agency loom outside. You push the backseat door open before your driver can even kill the engine, stepping out as gracefully as you can muster and pulling the folds of your designer coat demurely closed around your glamorous party clothes. You’re greeted by swaths of flashbulbs and determined shouts of your hero name, and suddenly the practiced gracious smile that you’ve always saved for the cameras is stretching your lips one more time.

You used to love something about this. But you’ve almost never had to face it alone.

Inside, the party’s taken off without you. Your coat’s taken before you can even see who’s hands are slipping it deftly off your shoulders, but by the time you’re ushered into the elevator and sent all the way to the top floor, you’re already sweating with the anticipation of all that’s waiting for you.

The doors open to a rush of guests, each noticing you simultaneously and pushing in to greet you.

Arriving late does absolutely nothing to dissolve the grandness of your entrance. Your attention is immediately pulled in a handful of different directions as celebrities and dignitaries and politicians shake your hands and congratulate you. People you’ve never met are telling you how good it is to see you on your feet again and, despite the overwhelming distractions, you can’t stop searching the crowd.

You don’t want to let yourself search for somebody in particular, but you spot him long before your shame catches up with you.

It’s not a glimpse of his mussed hair you catch, bobbing through the crowd. Nor is it a slip of the edge of his suit, the most devastating shade of midnight blue you could have possibly imagined.

Your eyes, like magnets, are drawn right to his crimson gaze. Lightning shoots through your chest, and you look away so fast you nearly pull a muscle in your neck. You cast your gaze immediately to the red-faced MP in front of you and let yourself stare. Still, from the corner of your eye, you can see the way he lingers, still facing you.

You haven’t seen Katsuki in months. Luckily, your ability to multitask has not faded, and you make easy small talk with the mayor and his wife while you sense him, in all his midnight splendor, disappearing into the crowd again.

A close call. Too close, in fact, not to warrant a drink. You excuse yourself kindly from the mayor’s attention, cutting through the glamorous partygoers until you reach the bar at the center of the room. It’s crowded, but you grab the bartender’s attention quick enough and order the first of many glasses of Dom Perignon.

The agency knows how to spend, for a special occasion.

It’s while you’re trapped at the bar, waiting for that imperative first drink, that he corners you. You spot him an instant too late, sidling between two dancing couples and crossing the short distance between you. There’s no way to skirt subtly away from him now. Instead, you lean more fervently across the bar and immerse yourself in an intense examination of the liquor, shelved decoratively behind the working bartenders.

He hesitates—possibly for the first time ever—but you’re determined not to watch as he searches for the right way to bridge the silence. You spot the way he stuffs his hands into his pockets, and when he finally speaks it’s low and sharp and bitter.

“That’s a nice dress.”

He has to lean too close to make his voice heard, speaking low and gruff to you in a way he never used to. You’re too anxious to care whether he sees the way you close your eyes to dull the fervent ache that flares in your chest.

He’s not allowed to say things like that to you. Not now.

“Listen.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, pushing ahead.

In the throes of closeness, it’s easy to pick up the tremor in his voice. That kind of shake used to scare you. It’s the way he’s always spoken to you when he’s keeping his temper at bay in public.

He’s opening his mouth to say something else, something deeper and far more expository perhaps, but your champagne arrives with no moment to spare. You pluck it eagerly from the bartender’s fingers with an exceedingly gracious smile and turn quickly in the direction you swear Katsuki’s not blocking.

“Watch it.” He grabs your wrist to keep you from sloshing half your fresh champagne down your front. His touch sears hotter than you’d dreaded, and you can’t stop yourself from flinching at the rough brush of his calloused fingers over your tender inner wrist.

Fuck.

“Don’t run off,” he insists, squeezing your wrist just a little tighter. Your entire body is drawn tight like a bow, but you’re not actively searching for an escape route at this point. Sensing this, he slowly unwraps his fingers, dropping your hand and letting you down half your drink in a couple of parched gulps.

“You look…” you start to say, letting your eyes wander his immaculate form one more time. Whoever cut that suit for him knew his shape well. It fits perfectly. Contrasts his golden hair like the night behind a harvest moon.

Absence has not culled your feelings for him. Especially not when he comes back to you like this.

You take another long, slow sip, ignoring the way Katsuki’s brows shoot toward his hairline when you nearly empty the glass. His gaze darts to the narrow flute in your hand, the prints of peachy lipstick that mar it.

With your heart beating a touch slower, you try again.

“You look good.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes.

“I can’t—” he starts, shaking his head as his eyes swim the crowd. “I’m not doing this.”

“What?” Your stomach drops. When he looks at you again it’s dead straight, burgundy and blazing in that way that used to make you molten.

Now it makes you want to cut and run.

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ play nice, like this,” he pushes. He takes a step toward you, letting your name—your real name—fall from his lips as tender and soft as a prayer. “Explain to me why my agent had to tell me you were gonna be here tonight.”

“Katsuki,” you plead quietly, backing away from him a touch. “I don’t want to—I can’t. Here. Please.”

For a million other people he might press on. He might get angry and demand an answer, threaten anything it takes to solve the puzzles in his brain. For you, his strong jaw ticks and he shoves clenched fists back into his ironed pockets.

“Let’s just,” you begin, “make it through to midnight, okay?”

“Fine,” he bites, but he doesn’t like folding to you. He gets you back by clearing his throat and extending you a palm, drawing the attention of the people around you. They turn, charmed by the agency’s finest reappearing as the duo they’ve always adored.

There’s a glint of something in his eyes as he gives his chin a little jut toward the dance floor.

“Dance with me, then.”

You’ve been to hundreds of opulent agency spectacles together. Charity benefits, galas, holiday parties and the like have always been studded by your presence. But no matter how many times you’ve entered the party together, you never managed to get him onto the dance floor. Despite your whining and pleading and fussing, he’s never ever let you drag him out there.

So this feels like a particularly low blow. But the orchestra’s struck up a dreamy rendition of The Way You Look Tonight and there are too many people watching for you to turn him down.

Instead, you down the rest of your champagne, set it on the bar behind you, and slip your hand defiantly into his.

“Fine.”

His fingers close gently around your palm and he gives it a lingering squeeze that turns your blood to venom.

You’re already racing through a complex plan to survive this attention as he walks you onto the dance floor. Some of the other couples pause in their swaying to send a smattering of applause over the crowd. You can feel the winning smile tugging at your mouth, forcing you to swallow the panicked ache in your chest.

Katsuki pauses at the center of the dance floor and pulls you slowly closer. The low dip of your gown places his warm hand on bare skin when he settles it in the small of your back, and you’re sure he doesn’t miss the sharp little suck of breath that you’re not prepared to hide.

He does not try to speak, so you’re silent as you settle a shaky hand on the shoulder of his perfect suit. He’s as perfect a dancer as you’ve always known he’d be, and he leads you into a smooth little sway that’s easy enough to navigate in your precarious gold heels but sweeps you into the music like a scene from years gone by.

“Hey,” he grunts a few bars in, ducking a little closer as his fingers press into the bare skin of your spine. He pulls you against him, forcing your tense body against his. The gentle dip of his hairstyle brushes your temple as he leans forward to murmur in your ear. “You’re holding your breath.”

You deflate against him, letting your eyes fall shut. When you take your next careful inhale, your head is filled by the heady, smoky scent of him. Your heart pounds so forcefully it’s practically blinding you. But above all else you hate yourself for still feeling all of this, after so many months of promising to force it away.

Katsuki knows you well enough not to try and trap you in conversation in public. But he doesn’t pull back any further, continuing to hold you flush against him, letting your soft cheek brush his with every couple of steps.

Despite your best efforts, you’re drowning in him: the strength of his touch, the fluidity in his movements. His thumb strokes the base of your spine with an easy rhythm that you’re trying hard not to notice. It’s becoming too much. He’s holding you closer than a colleague should, tucking his nose too attentively against the side of your head for a courtesy dance. You’re overthinking too many of the signs. You’re letting yourself believe what should have been thoroughly dashed to pieces so many months ago.

It’s when tears well behind your glittery eyelids that you put a stop to it.

“Katsuki, I—” You can’t finish, pushing yourself sharply away from his chest. Whatever expression of dreamlike peace that had touched his eyes fades quickly as he sees the telltale wet sparkle in yours, and he reaches for you an instant too late.

He calls your name softly, fingertips brushing the edge of your upper arm. But your tears are spilling over and you’re backing away and you cannot be here anymore, not when people are starting to see.

“I can’t do this,” you plead. “I can’t pre—I’m sorry.”

With a final shake of your head, you turn and hurry clumsily from the dance floor, pulling up the beaded skirt of your heavy gown and sweeping, as quickly as possible, to the glass doors shut tightly against the imposing snow on the terrace.

It’s bitterly cold, nearly fifty storeys up, and the wind whips mercilessly past your bare arms with biting chill. You can’t stay out here long, but it still feels better than the alternative.

With shaking fingers, you dip into the tiny bag you’ve been wearing over one shoulder. You’ve stashed exactly one emergency cigarette in its silky depths. You haven’t smoked in weeks, but something told you that tonight would beg one.

You have to back away from the railing to even light it in the wind, but you’re barely two puffs in before the door behind you opens carefully.

It’s the last person in the world you hoped for. And the only one you can imagine finding you out here. He’s got a glass of something neat in each hand—amber in one, clear in the other. He spies the cigarette in your fingers and his soft, concerned expression melts into a scowl.

“You’re still smoking?”

You take a defiant drag, blowing the smoke in his direction. The wind catches it, carrying it in a sharp curve back over your head. Katsuki licks his lower lip, but you can tell by the way his nose twitches that he’s trying not to chuckle.

You nod toward the whiskey in his right hand. “How many of those have you had tonight?”

“Not enough,” he quips. He nods toward the cigarette. “Put it out.”

“You don’t get to order me around anymore.”

“I said put it out.”

Your livid soul wants to defy him. You’re craving the conflict that inevitably comes when you both dig in your heels. But you’ve got no energy left to fight, so you flick the smoke dejectedly onto the wet pavement and crush it under one delicate pump.

“Better?” The attitude cuts cruelly through your voice. Katsuki just pushes the other glass into your hand and you know that it’s gin before you even have to smell it. You roll your eyes.

“The healthier alternative,” you snarl, but he’s finished with your games.

“Come inside,” he prompts. “You’re gonna lose your nose out here.”

“I’m not sure that’s your problem any longer.”

“What the hell’s wrong with you? Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Katsuki, I wanna hear you say it.”

He’s throwing back an irritated slug of his drink, but he bristles, gesturing wildly with the cup.

“Like we’re not gonna be partners anymore.”

His voice is punctuated by a horrible, involuntary sob that breaks from your lips. He’s always been able to read you so well, picking up on things that you’re not even ready to acknowledge. But he’s right. That is how you’ve been speaking, because you can’t even imagine standing next to him in a photo right now, let alone letting him take your life into his hands.

Katsuki moves forward, shocked by your tears, but you hold your empty palm out straight and, like he would only for you, he relents.

“Because I don’t think we can be anymore.”

“Shut up. Look at you. You’re fine. You look…” his eyes cast briefly over your form, “fine.”

You clap a hand protectively to your abdomen, remembering the painful tug and knowing that he’s missing the point.

“That’s not why,” you snap through your tears. “That’s not even…close to why. Katsuki, don’t be dense.” Your voice is breaking because you’re about to say it, the thing you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel as you were zipped into your gown earlier tonight. And if you’re going to say it, there’s no point in doing it with gusto.

Might as well go out like the whimpering fool you are.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whine, “because somehow, despite my best efforts, Katsuki, I fell fucking in love with you, so hard, and you knew I did, and so you…you don’t. You don’t, and I’ve ruined everything, and that’s fine, but I—”

He pulls your name from the very depths of his chest. If you were expecting fire and brimstone, you’re met with an even more harrowing sight—soft, somber, remorseful Katsuki, looking at you like he’d stop the world on its axis if it would make things better.

The memories are too easy to reconjure, and the sunshine of that sticky summer afternoon that changed everything lights up behind his gaze.

There was a crime syndicate you’d been uprooting for months. An underground hideout tucked well away from the prying eyes of hero society. A stray spray of bullets—bullets, of all things, finding the gaps in your shattered armour and nearly taking you from him.

You’d been sure. Both of you. There were too many shots. There was too much blood. The hideout was too well-hidden for anybody to find you in time. Your vision was bleeding out around the edges, and you saw Katsuki cry real tears for the first time.

In a slurred heap of breathless prose, you’d unloaded everything. The most important secret you’d ever kept from him came spilling from your blood-tinged lips.

You were glad to go, if it meant you never had to lose him. Glad to be the one to selfishly leave him behind. You were going to be okay if you never had to face a world without him in it. Because—and you’d choked this on a fresh wave of blood and ungraceful spittle—you’d loved him as long as you’d ever known him.

Six days later, you woke up alone in the ICU. And that was the last you’d seen or heard or known of the man who’d once promised to have your back, always.

Katsuki silently finishes his drink. His cheeks and nose have flushed deeply from the ruthless chill, and he turns to give the city one last glance before moving toward the door.

“Come inside,” he gruffs. Deep shivers have broken out along the column of your spine, but you wrap your frigid arms around yourself in protest.

“I’m not going back in there.” Not like this.

“Idiot,” he snaps softly. “Look at you. You’re gonna die for real if you stay out here.” He tightens his jaw and slams the empty glass down on the windowsill. Then he looks at you with all the lights of the night blazing in his crimson stare.

“Let me take you somewhere quiet. No one’s gonna see.” His chest rises and falls with a deep breath and he reaches carefully for your arm. “I promise.”

Even with a breaking heart, you’re a fucking sucker for him. Your voice is teary and pathetic but pinched by cold.

“Fine.”

He slips an arm around your shoulders—making your chest lurch—and you duck back inside. Immediately he takes you to the wall, putting himself between you and the rest of the party. With the breadth of his chest he shields you from prying eyes that grow drunker by the minute.

You skirt the edge of the party, making it to the stairwell door on the opposite wall. Somebody by the bar looks up just in time to see Bakugou tugging fiercely down on the handle, but you slip onto the fluorescent-lit landing and the silver door falls shut behind you without consequence.

You’re turning around to grab for the door that isn’t closing fast enough as he slips through it, colliding gently with his chest. Bakugou grabs your wrists to stop you, and for an instant you’re nose-to-nose, smelling him and the whiskey on his breath and the faint odour of paint that never quite faded from the concrete walls.

If not for the tears leaving streaks in your makeup, you might let yourself believe he’s lingering in front of you on purpose.

You pull from his grip and turn back toward the stairs before either of you have the chance to imagine more.

Your office is at the end of the hall on the next floor down. It’s a corner office studded with windows, far too lovely for someone who spends as much time in the field as you do. But you’d worked hard to make it a personable space, with plants and artwork and a couple of very comfortable guest chairs in emerald velvet.

Katsuki rolls his eyes every time he has to wave off the odour of your favourite scented candle, but you’ve caught him admiring what you’ve done with his office, too.

Now, the space is too tidy for either of your tastes, a little dusty from so many months of neglect. You’ve been out of commission for six months, and nursing a heartbreak far too immense to allow any casual visits to the agency.

He closes the door behind the both of you. Locks it, just in case. You’re already pacing across the rug and perching on the edge of the desk, gratefully taking some of the weight off your aching feet.

He keeps his back to you for a long moment, fingers lingering on the brass doorknob. His shoulders bob with a deep, harrowing sigh.

“You were dying.”

He turns around, and in the quiet dark of your office his eyes are lit up with a deeper fear than you’ve ever seen in him. He comes toward you and sits in one of your squishy little chairs, steepling his fingers and settling his elbows on his knees.

“You don’t–” he shakes his head and lowers it, pressing the heels of his hands to his forehead. “You don’t understand. You weren’t making any sense.”

“I was,” you bite back, gripping at the edge of your desk. “I meant everything I said to you, Katsuki; I remember every word.”

He flinches. He looks so sorry it’s starting to genuinely scare you.

“That’s not it,” he demands, straightening. “You didn’t. I did.” He slapped a hand against his chest, the dull thud reverberating through your own heart.

“You said those things and I didn’t believe you. They couldn’t have been true. Not when I’d spent so much fucking time wishing they could be. I couldn’t tell myself you felt that way about me. I couldn’t hope. Not when I’d come so fucking close to losing you so easily, I—”

His voice breaks and he looks away, and you might be crazy but his chin gives a telltale little shake like he’s holding back tears.

“So you thought it would be easier to what? Fucking ghost me like a bad Tinder date?”

That hurts more than it should. You’ve seen Bakugou at his very worst, bleeding and soot-streaked and showing you feelings he never means to. For a very brief period in your lives, you believed yourself to be special.

“Don’t play the innocent,” he snarls. “You never talked to me, either. I had to find out from my fucking manager that you were outta the hospital.”

“So you never thought to drop by? Bring some fucking… flowers?” You can feel the venom filling your mouth and you’re not altogether certain you’re strong enough to swallow it this time.

“And tell you what? That I was in love with you and, maybe I heard you wrong, but you said something while you were dying in my fuckin’ arms and I was hoping for some goddamned clarification?”

“Yes!” You sob, the word ripping itself from your chest and landing wet and heavy on the floor between you. “That! Anything would have been better than radio fucking silence. Katsuki, I was sure you hated me.”

“Well I fucking love you, okay?” He rises from his chair, taking one step forward. It lands him almost right between your thighs and you hate how close he is, but you have no power to pull away. He cups your jaw in strong, gentle fingers, forcing your eyes to his.

“I fucked up,” he presses. He leans down and presses his forehead to yours and this time his proximity is on purpose. You drink it down in eager gulps.

“I missed you,” he murmurs. Despite your tears and the ache in your heart, you give a wet little laugh and nuzzle your nose against his.

“I missed you, too.”

He takes your hands and pulls them both to his chest. And for a long moment you just sit there, curled over one another in the dark and growing accustomed to the idea of being okay again.

“Did you just…” you start after a long moment of silence. His eyelashes flutter against your cheek as he tucks his cheek against yours, but the grin that pulls your mouth is enough for him to stand back and look at you.

“Did you just admit to making a mistake?”

You’re laughing at your own joke before Katsuki can even roll his eyes. But he’s scowling good-naturedly and tugging himself against you by the hips.

“C’mere, you brat.”

He’s leaning in to close the distance between you when muffled chanting from upstairs makes you pause. You tilt an ear toward the window and light up, easily recognizing the five, four, three, two, one as the magnitude builds.

Bright flashes of gold and red light up the sky outside your window in a brilliant display. And all at once the lingering ache drains from your chest and you shoot Katsuki a fond little smile.

“I guess it’s midnight.”

“We missed the fireworks,” he notes, nodding toward the window as he edges back toward you.

“Not really,” you confess, and the first real big smile breaks through the pain when he steps up between your knees again, nice and tight and deliberate.

He cups your jaw in one hand again, settling the other palm on your knee, where it peeks through the golden slip of your dress.

“Happy New Year,” you whisper, eyes falling shut. You hear the way he smiles, that bare little chuckle that used to make your heart light up like stars.

He leans in and kisses you without another word. It’s soft but firm and so loving, so much better than any brush of the hand or lingering glance. Better, even, than the way he danced you into a stupor upstairs. This is yours and nobody else’s.

And you’re not letting him go anytime soon.

You let the kiss deepen as naturally as you can, dropping your jaw and letting the bare press of his tongue roll against your teeth. You reach up and grab his jacket by its lapels, hitching him even closer as the fireworks die out behind you.

He’s not backing down, either. Katsuki draws his hands from your body to unbutton his jacket, shrugging it away easily without breaking the kiss. He’s pressing his mouth to yours in long, lingering spells, tasting you eagerly while his hands have to stay busy. But as soon as he can he’s touching you again, teasing his fingers under the slit of your dress and brushing them over your bare thighs.

“Katsuki…” you whine into his mouth, turning your head to gasp and fill your empty lungs. He finds the next bare patch of skin, kissing down the side of your jaw. He finds your earring where it lays against your tender neck, sucking the crystal into his mouth and giving it a gentle tug.

“Fuck,” you gasp, and he grins into your skin.

“Don’t tell me you’ve had enough already.”

“Not a chance,” you growl. There are millions of questions flooding your subconscious. But years of tension and desire spiral more fiercely between you. It’s energy that demands release. And you don’t want to wait another second.

“God,” he groans hard, collapsing gently into you. As he presses forward against you, the twitching swell of his erection pushes into your bare thigh. You slide your palms down the meat of his chest and find his mouth again, kissing him with searing intent.

“Look at you,” he rasps into your mouth, gripping hard at the weighty skirt of your beaded gown. “You’re a goddamned vision in this, you know that?”

You pull back to look at him, raw sexual energy briefly dispersed by his tender confession. For a long moment you sit there, panting at each other, remembering how much this is about to mean.

Fuck it. If he’s in, so are you.

“Help me get it off.”

You slide to your feet, pushing him back a couple of steps to accommodate you. As soon as you turn around he’s sliding a palm up your side, thumbing at the fabric to find its zipper.

“God damn,” he growls, leaning in to kiss a path down the column of your spine. He drops to one knee as he works the zipper down the back of the dress—sitting low, thanks to its open back—letting his mouth trail all the way to the waistband of your underwear. All the while, you brace a palm on the edge of your desk, trying your best not to implode.

This is more attention than you ever could have prayed for.

He peels the thin straps down your arms and shoves the whole mess to your feet. You’re bending down to unbuckle the straps on your heels, but he stops you with a hand on the back of your thigh.

“Leave ‘em on.”

His voice sends a sharp pang of arousal through your entire body. When he stands, trailing his fingers all the way up the back of your naked thigh and over the swell of your ass, the arousal disperses into a dull ache that settles in the pit of your stomach and throbs incessantly.

He digs his fingers into the flesh of your hip and turns you to face him. Your nipples are already peaking in the chill of your office, and he sucks a deep breath through his teeth as he slides his palms up your tummy.

There’s puckered scar tissue and new ridges on your abdomen, but there’s no pain when he traces brushes over them.

He pauses, looking down with dull shock tugging his brow. You’re holding your breath again, watching him circle the roughest part of your new scars with one tender thumb.

“It’s okay,” you plead, cupping his cheeks and forcing his eyes back to yours. There’s pain littering his gaze that you’re determined to dissolve, and you lean in to kiss him until he’s groaning into your mouth and drawing his hands toward your chest.

“God,” you breathe, goosebumps betraying you as they race beneath his fingers. Katsuki watches your face as he dips his head, pushing your breasts together and laying kisses between them.

“Please,” you whimper, reaching forward and settling a hand over the front of his pants. You palm the shape of his cock through the pressed wool and he flinches, biting gently into your tender flesh.

“Katsuki,” you pant, squeezing and rubbing the hard swell in a gentle, heady rhythm as you set your ass on the edge of your desk again. “I need you.”

“Jesus,” he curses, dropping his hands and reaching desperately for his tie. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me before I even get my cock out, sweetness.”

It’s the dirtiest thing he’s ever said to you. And it shows. You’re a shivering, lustblown mess already, but the petname that falls from his lips is enough to make you whimper.

He shrugs out of his shirt and pushes you further onto the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you and pushing your thighs apart with strong fingers.

“Always kinda wanted to do this in here,” he confesses with that cocky smirk that’s always made a hummingbird out of your heart.

But Katsuki doesn’t give you too much time to swoon over his pretty words, kissing a path up the inside of one plush thigh and nipping at your sensitive flesh. He helps you brace your heels against the rug and lift your hips, peeling your underwear off and rucking it down your knees. There’s something very naughty about the way it feels to settle your bare ass on your polished desk.

But there’s something even naughtier about the way it feels to have Katsuki on his knees in front of you.

He pushes your thighs apart again, harsher this time, and settles your knees over his shoulders. You’d like to ride the wave of self-consciousness that threatens to crest when his breath ghosts over the folds of your heated sex.

He pushes higher for a moment, taking your sides in his hands and drawing lovely little kisses down the rough length of your scar. You push self-consciously at his head, making him pull pack and settle a hand over the flesh instead. He tilts his chin up, shooting you a look so filled with guilt and sorrow it nearly shatters the moment.

He wasn’t there for the pain. And as he kisses back down to your hips and thighs, you let yourself hope that this will be enough to make up for it on both sides.

But then he leans in and licks a long stripe up your cunt and the groan that echoes from his chest makes it hard to do anything but cum on the spot.

“Fuck,” you sigh wantonly, letting your head fall back as you brace your palms on the wood behind you. Your fingertips dig into the surface and he settles into an easy rhythm, slipping his arms under your thighs and tugging you tight to his face.

He’s not shy with his voice, either, grunting and sighing into your pussy with every stroke of his tongue. The noises double your pleasure almost immediately, coupled with the obscene slurps that vibrate all the way up your spine.

It doesn’t take long at all for him to find that tender little spot, the perfect direction from which to swirl his tongue against your clit. It’s obvious in the way your legs go tight around the sides of his head, the way you shiver and cry and clap a hand to the back of his head.

He grunts hard into your body when your fingers rake through his hair, harder still when your tense thighs press the narrow points of your heels into the flesh of his back.

“Katsu,” you whimper, already fucked out and tender like you’ve never been for him, “I’m gonna cum. Fucking shit, I-I’m gonna…”

He takes your warning like a hit, leaning more fiercely into you, keeping his rhythm with intense precision. Later, you’ll try not to think about why he’s so good at this. But right now, all you can think about is the way your pleasure rears up and crashes over you, sending loud gasps and breathy mewls of ecstasy from your chest as you squeeze his head and pull his hair and roll your hips shakily into his persistent mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” he snarls, sitting back on his haunches and swiping a palm over his flushed lips. He looks up at you, rubbing your thigh with one free hand as you come down panting from your ecstatic high. Between his legs, his cock juts obscenely down one thigh of his suit pants, and he palms himself shamelessly as he gets to his feet, taking in every inch of your pleasure-soaked self.

“You’re gonna make me cream my fuckin’ pants someday,” he chides, fumbling with his belt and impatiently shucking his pants. His undershorts follow closely, and you’re barely on your feet again before he takes you by the shoulders and turns your back to him.

“C’mere.” He slides a hand under one of your thighs, hitching it gently onto the edge of your desk and coming up tightly behind you. The brush of his knuckle against your ass proves that he’s stroking himself, and the tip of his stiff cock leaves a little print of wet precum on the back of your leg.

“Please,” you moan, still hazy and shaken from your first orgasm. Still endlessly needy, though, when Katsuki’s involved. “God, baby, just fuck me already.”

“Fuckin’ hell, you can’t say shit like that,” he groans, twitching behind you. “It’s like you don’t know how fuckin’ sexy you are.”

He braces a hand on your bare hip and then you feel it, the tip of his drooling cock pressing up between your slippery folds. It’s enough to make you whine and arch your back, wiggling your hips impatiently against his.

It’s enough to make Katsuki lose it.

“Shit,” he growls, gripping the fat of your hip and pushing forward, sliding home with one smooth thrust. He bottoms out inside you right away, buried perfectly in your belly and making you feel every inch.

“Baby—” you start to breathe, but he doesn’t waste time. Katsuki reaches around and lays his palm flat on your sternum, pulling you back against him. He keeps his other hand braced on your hip for leverage, dropping his mouth to the crook of your shoulder while he starts to thrust.

All you can do is keep your knee planted on the edge of your desk and try not to scream as he fucks you in steady, long thrusts, lapping and sucking all along the side of your neck while his hand roams over your chest and thumbs your nipple. Whatever hairstyle you’d left the house with has come long undone by now and you’re sure that if your makeup wasn’t smudged before, it’s certainly not going to survive the drool and sweat and heat that he’s forcing through you with every push of his hips.

The slap of his body against yours fills the space, punctuated only by your harsh pants and quiet whines of pleasure. Katsuki’s fingers dig harshly into your hip, gripping you tighter each time he anchors himself back into your fluttering cunt. Your walls are clamping ruthlessly around him, but he doesn’t miss a beat, slipping that free palm away from your nipples and down your belly to strum rhythmically at the swell of your stiff clit.

“I love you,” he grunts breathlessly behind you, and the raw truth behind it brings a rush of warmth to your chest you can’t ignore. You turn your head sharply towards him, pushing your forehead to his and feeling every beat as his breathing becomes laboured.

His body’s growing tight behind yours, his thrusts losing some of their impeccable rhythm as his brow knits against yours. He’s concentrating hard—holding back, you realize—and you reach down to cover his hand that braces your hip, giving it a relenting squeeze.

“Baby,” you plead. “Let go for me, baby, I can feel it.”

“God,” he mutters. “No—fuck, gonna make you—with me, sweetness.” Your body is clenching in preparation for your own climax already, and the fact that he can even pick up on it shouldn’t surprise you.

“I’m there,” you promise. “I’m there, Katsuki, fuck, just cum for me. Please.”

His arms tighten around you, seizing you hard against his heaving chest. You lean forward and seal your mouth against his, kissing him as he loses control and cums with a shout that echoes at the back of your throat.

He grabs your ass in one hand and fucks madly into you, spurting warm handfuls of cum into your belly and biting down hard on your lower lip. The erratic twitch of his fingers on your still-aching clit and the warm release inside you is enough to bring you to another tight, simpering little peak—not as powerful as the first one, but just as significant.

He stays behind you for a long moment, pinning you to the desk while he goes soft inside you. Finally he peppers kisses down the back of one shoulder and steps away from you, already smoothing his hair and taking in the image of you, in nothing but your heels, dripping with his cum.

The first of many, you let yourself hope, as you turn to carefully face him.

“I guess we missed the countdown,” you quip, reaching for your discarded panties. Navigating the strappy thing seems a great deal more complicated now that it’s not Katsuki tearing them off you.

He smirks at you in a way that does not make it easier to concentrate on the task at hand. Especially since he’s watching you struggle, easily buttoning himself into his now-creased shirt.

“I didn’t miss a thing.”

He’s already half-clothed by the time you get your underwear on again, stooping to collect your delicate dress from the floor and thumbing the sequins that pepper its surface. His smirk has dissolved into another pensive look as he examines the cloth.

“If I’d known,” he tells you, pressing the scratchy fabric into your hands, “I never would’ve—”

You lean up and push your mouth to his, soft and loving and just enough to silence him.

“I know.”

Once Katsuki’s got the rest of his clothes on, he helps you carefully into your dress and gets behind you one more time to help you zip it. He can’t stop kissing you even for a minute, peppering his lips over your back, neck, arms. He turns you around and takes your hands, kissing the backs of each palm with devotion that, if you stop and think about it, you’ve seen in his eyes a thousand times before.

“You’ll make it up to me,” you promise good naturedly, letting him slide his arms around your waist. He looks at you again, diligent and honest.

“I will.”

“Good.”

You slide your hands up his sleeves of heart-stealing midnight blue, smiling so big it ought to hurt. You tilt your head toward the door, giving your chin a little jerk as you squeeze his biceps through the pressed wool.

“For a start,” you say, daring to lean a little closer while he’s still feeling tender, “how about another dance?”

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo #my hero academia #bakugou #bnha #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo #it's new years eeeeeeve and i am not #spending it with him #sigh #;.;

573 notes · View notes

aerequets · 3 years

Note

can you give me some webtoon recommendations? name some of your favorites! :)

i am here to answer folks 😎

all of these webtoons can be found on webtoons.com! I'm not sure about the whole daily pass thing they've got going on (which sucks tbh) but like,,, you could probably find it online illegally. NOT THAT I CONDONE ILLEGAL ACTIVITY HAHAHAHA ᵖˢˢᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ

I'll split these up between completed and in progress :) most are still in progress though

COMPLETED

1) Gourmet Hound (166 chapters)

this is like, my all time favorite webtoon. it follows Lucy and her quest to find all the chefs that left her favorite restaurant, Dimanche! it’s a really heartfelt story and the food illustrations make you really hungry, so make sure you have a snack before you sit down to read it. each character’s name is also food-related, so that’s pretty cool too! and the diversity in this webtoon is AMAZING. it’s the only webtoon i’ve ever read that has a hijabi character in the main cast. the development is done really well and it explores themes of loving and letting go. all in all, it has a bit of everything. i personally love food-related things, and this centers around it, so i was set LOL

(also a bonus is that this webtoon has NOT succumbed to daily pass hell, so you can binge read the whole thing. legally.)

2) Hooky (200 chapters)

if you like stories of witches, this is the one! the summary and beginning chapters are deceptively lighthearted. DO NOT BE FOOLED! the story really develops further on and explores numerous conflicts, a big one being (if i remember correctly) witch vs. nonwitch. if you like to see struggles between two sides, not a good-and-evil but just people-who-want-the-best-for-themselves-and-their-loved-ones type of thing, this is good for that. also, sibling love! the two main characters are Dani and Dorian, and while there is someee romance, i like how this story centers around the siblings first and foremost. ALSO THE ART??? I LOVE HOW THE AUTHOR DRAWS SETTINGS SO MUCH and am unabashedly jealous because i am completely incapable of doing so just like,,,, even if the story doesn’t pull you in, you can at least stare at each panel for long stretches of time.

(unfortunately succumbed to daily pass, but you can read it on mangaowl or manganelo!)

3) Spirit Fingers (167 chapters)

aww, this one is cute. Amy is 18 and lacking in self confidence (her family definitely doesn’t help). but HEY she joins a wacky art club!! without her parents knowing!! HECK YEAH!! unfortunately it takes more than joining an art club for her to learn to love herself (it is a long journey after all!). i love this webtoon because it explores the problems of multiple people, not just amy: her high achieving brothers, her mother who had to give up her dream, the different members in the art club, Amy’s girl friends. the art is unique and has a cool watercolor-y texture! and the main couple is just adorable, too. if you’re an artist especially, i recommend this because that’s a big theme and you get to see these characters expand their art styles! which is very cool!

(you can read this one fully on 1stkissmanga)

now here’s where the majority of my recs are:

IN PROGRESS (all can be read on webtoon.com)

1) The Makeup Remover (currently 71 chapters)

i look forward to this every tuesday and friday because oh man!!!!!!!!! idk about you guys, but i am thinking about beauty standards A Large Amount of the time, especially when i consume media. and this webtoon is all about beauty standards (specifically in Korea, but still applicable like. everywhere). Main character Yeseul ends up having to partake in this beauty competition and, with her experiences through it, she begins seeing makeup and beauty standards for the huge role they play in society. i said it already but i LOVE LOVE LOVE this webtoon because it really challenges you as a reader to think about your own perspectives. why do we find the things/people beautiful that we do? what shapes our perception? how much of it is marketing, and how much of it shows in our daily lives? what assumptions do you make about people based on how they look? AGHH im sounding like an essay prompt instead of a reviewer but man. if you like webtoons that examine society through a critical lens (gosh i sound like an english teacher), this is the one.

2) Odd Girl out (currently 261 chapters; on season 2)

okay, first and foremost: if you’re NOT into long winded drama, this probably isn’t it for you. i will admit im not a fan of long problems that get dragged out, especially in a school setting, but i did keep reading this webtoon and i am glad that i did! the character development here is amazing and ONE CRUCIAL THING is that the whole first season (which is many, many chapters. at least over 100) focuses on the friendship between our main 4 girls. if you don’t wanna wait for a romance storyline (which comes in season 2), then you’ve gotta have the patience of a saint. i loved this though because lots of romance webtoons cast friendships aside or use them to further the romantic plot. platonic relationships are great to read about and this one does it masterfully! main character nari is resilient and emotionally strong, and it’s great to see her ruin her enemies

3) Cursed Princess Club (currently 110 chapters; on break before the final season)

this is another one about beauty and societal expectations, but in a fantasy setting! it’s really funny and the cast of characters is heartwarming. Gwen is a princess, but she doesn’t look like the typical princess. she accidentally stumbles upon the Cursed Princess Club, which is exactly what it sounds like: a club for princesses that have been cursed and are trying to find their self worth despite not being conventional princesses! now that i think about it, this is like a lighthearted mixture of Makeup Remover and Spirit Fingers. although while i do say “lighthearted”, this webtoon has its fair share of mysteries and exploration of deeper topics. but its funny throughout

4) Brass & Sass (currently 83 chapters)

ahh this one is really cute and the art is cute, too! i also like how this has a diverse cast. high schooler Camilla kinda sucks at band, but dangit if she’s not passionate. Victor is some type of musical prodigy but he’s a brass-hole (hahaha get it. no that’s not original i ripped it from the summary). now i KNOW I KNOW, the whole “perky girl and asshole guy” is so overplayed BUT DON’T FRET! this isn’t the type of story where the girl “fixes” the guy, or where the guy is an asshole to everyone except the girl. believe me, the character development and relationship development in this story is SPLENDID. there’s no real antagonist. it’s just a bunch of high schoolers trying their best to make themselves and everyone else happy, and that’s hard! the story is carried more by the characters than by the plot, but it works well in this case since the characters are strong and each one has a presence.

5) Surviving Romance (currently 10 chapters)

this one is relatively new compared to my other recs but it’s by the author of the Makeup Remover so yaknow i had to hop on it. BUT IT IS VERY DIFFERENT! first off, it’s a horror, so keep that in mind. the best way i can describe it is a mixture of the standard “girl falls into a story” genre, Groundhog Day, and zombies. Yeah. Bascially, Chaerin is our main girl and she’s in a romance story that’s she’s read a bajillion times, so she knows the day has come for her male lead to confess his love! except he doesn’t! because he becomes a zombie instead! hahaha well that sucks! it’s only got 10 chapters but i am very into it, and it seems to be taking an emphasis on platonic relationships, so i am very closely watching 👁👁

6) The Witch and the Bull (currently 60 chapters)

another witch story! and the art is GORGEOUS. more witch + nonwitch conflict, too! our main dude, Tan, is the royal advisor and he’s hella bigoted against witches. our main girl, Aro, happens to be a witch. and Tan needs her help to make him into a human again (because he got turned into a bull. that is worth mentioning). this is a very barebones summary and there’s a lot more that goes on, but that’s the general gist of the beginning!

ANYWAYS. this got very long, predictably, and i rambled for each title, predictably. i’ve got more that i’m reading, but i really like these 9! i also made comments on the art for a lot of them, which might not matter to some people, but i feel like my art was very impacted by each webtoon i read. if you’re an artist i recommend finding a webtoon you like and studying the art; try implementing parts you like into your own style!

anyways, i am FINALLY done talking. bye yall

#webtoons #my recs

136 notes · View notes

cowboycakes · 3 years

Text

The Strategy

Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Reader

Synopsis: The forest was the last place you thought you'd find yourself infatuated with someone you barely knew - especially not your cocky prisoner.

Themes: angst, flirting, guilty love, big plot twist

Warnings: kissing and suggestive language, bullying / teasing, mentions of death, some anxious thinking, light alcohol and tobacco use, profanity. reader uses she/her pronouns. s4 spoilers.

Word Count: 5.7k

Anon (🐸)'s Request: Hi ! Can I request a Zeke x fem reader imagine/one-shot? Reader is a captain for the survey corp and long time veteran. She is really intelligent and is a strategist for the corp. They kind of hate each other but have a lot of chemistry but start bonding before the forest incident. Sorry if that isn't specific enough and too vague.

On occasion, you tended to be so logical that it ruined your life. There was no room in your mind for daydreams, love, or speculation. Fate was false - most things in life were completely arbitrary. That was the way you’d trained yourself to think. Not because you enjoyed it, only because it made it easier to survive.

This way of thinking is a result of your lifetime with the Corps. The award of a Captain’s position was the fruit of your labor, along with being revered for your ability to strategize. Many of the most important and most successful missions in recent years had been planned by you. But, the bubbling tension and division within the walls have thrown you for a loop. You’ve attempted to collaborate with Levi in recent weeks to try to pin down any conflict - anything you could do to calm the storm and keep your comrades safe would be worth it.

Instead of being able to act on whatever plans you’d developed, you’d been assigned to the most bizarre mission you’d ever taken part in: babysitting some man in his late twenties, all the way out in a forest filled with towering redwood trees. This mystery man was apparently not to be trusted, he was Eren’s half-brother from Marley and the holder of the beast titan. He’d done tremendous damage to the Corps in the past. His intentions and motives now remained mysterious, but one thing was for sure: his loyalties lied with Eren, not with the Scouts.

You were disappointed and terrified all together. Being so far away from the action left both you and your comrades vulnerable. But, Levi insisted you needed to confine this man far away from society. And although you were a captain, whatever Levi says usually goes.

The forest wasn’t so bad upon your arrival. Damp pine needles that covered the ground coated the air in a sweet aroma. The blanket of shade given off by the trees was temperate in the summer heat. The tents you’d been provided with were sturdy, insulated, and a dark shade of green that complimented the woodland setting. Above all, you were accompanied by 30 trained soldiers and a shipment of high-quality Marleyan wine.

The entirety of your first day in the forest was spent unpacking and setting up your living quarters. Stars now peak through the canopy of branches above, and a cold breeze ruffles the millions of leaves surrounding the camp. The air was chilly despite the heat that blazed earlier in the day.

The cot you’d assembled in your tent is comfortable enough, but the grey sheets you’d just stretched over the mattress still smell stale. You conjure up the idea of going for a walk while your blankets air out. The musty scent sure wasn’t going to lull you to sleep.

Your timid feet crunch on the ground through the forest for a while, away from the camp. The mist of your breath is tangible in front of your face - the light jacket you’d brought wasn’t going to be enough to keep your goosebumps at bay. It’s much more intimidating out here at night than you’d expected. Darkness brought mystery to the gaps between each tree. And the sheer amount of trees beyond the campsite is dizzying, their height is even more difficult to process. They add a sense of company to your walk, although you can’t tell if they are peaceful observers or prying sets of eyes.

It’s surprisingly quiet out here, no animal or human alike made noise at this hour. The silence leads you to pick up on the echo of a fire crackling somewhere. You’re suddenly a bit excited - you’d figured everyone would have gone to sleep by now.

You spot a comforting orange glow coming from the other side of the distant campsite, offset from the main groups of tents. Maybe someone else’s sheets needed time to breathe too.

The light grows brighter as you trek towards it. It leads you to a humble tent and a fire pit with two rusted metal chairs placed on either side of it. In one of the chairs sits a blonde man in a white shirt, with his back turned to you. He has his nose in a poorly bound book - its stitching is frayed and the pages look wilted, as if they’d been dropped in water before. A cigarette smolders in his free hand.

Your feet crunch into the ground a little harder as you approach in an attempt to avoid startling him. The man looks up to you once you’re finally facing each other. His face is foreign to you. Round glasses on his nose reflect a golden luster from the fire in front of him, blurring your view of his grey eyes slightly. Blonde waves are parted down the middle of his head, tousled a bit too perfectly. He has a well groomed beard that compliments his structured face and strong biceps that peak through his shirt sleeves.

He’s handsome, classy, alluring. Nothing like the usual around here.

“Hi, I’m Captain Reader,” you say with a small smile.

“Reader, huh?” he says, folding his book closed, “I think I’ve heard that name somehow…”

“Oh, possibly. I’m a long time captain. I do a lot of strategic work as well, and it's not exclusive to the Scouts. So my name tends to get around.”

“My name is Zeke,” he replies, returning the smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Zeke… did that sound familiar? You couldn’t decide.

You take a seat in the other chair across from the fire, warming your hands once you get comfortable. The embers lit in front of you are only a sad little bundle of sticks, clearly in need of more fuel. Zeke rolls his shoulders back as his eyes focus in on your frame. His attention is definitely not on the book anymore. His body language almost tells you he likes what he sees - he’s open, relaxed, observant. The cigarette has gone a bit limp in between his fingers.

You’re guilty of curiosity too, as your eyes prod his figure. There must be something in the air.

“What’s that book about?” you question, “it looks… well loved.”

He chuckles. “It's a little fantasy piece, actually. Not something I’d usually find myself reading, but I’ve read it a hundred times now. It’s about a maiden who buys her way to heaven, and a prince who rescues her from the consequences.”

“Interesting…” you say, “how does someone buy their way to heaven?”

“With something far more valuable than money,” he explains. You wonder if the sultry undertone he added was all part of your imagination. It was a little grumbly, suggestive.

“And what would that be?”

“Not sure, still trying to figure that one out,” he remarks, bringing the cigarette up to his lips. Light from the fire gets trapped in the smoke and travels up through the dark air as he exhales.

“You’re gonna ruin your lungs if you keep doing that, Zeke,” you joke.

He chuckles again, “So she’s pretty and caring. Guess I’ve lucked out.”

You feel a little heat rush to your cheeks. This innocent, flattered, puppy-love feeling: you hadn’t felt this way in years. You really wish you could just brush it off, it wasn’t something you were used to. Instead, you let your mind wander for only a second - it would be a nice pastime to have a summer fling with someone in this forest. You were more than tempted. It would get your mind off of the impending doom you tended to feel in chaotic times like this. You could live a bit for once.

And the beautiful man in front of you could be the perfect candidate.

“Hmm, it’s convenient that you think so,” you reply, crossing your legs.

“Convenient? For you, or for me?” he questions. “Looking to get something out of your time in this forest, Captain?”

You pause. He’s bold. “Depends… what about you?”

Zeke lifts the book up slightly in his hand and flips it over to examine its withered back cover, “Not sure, maybe I’ll finally experience whatever this book is talking about. Something so desirable I could cheat my way into heaven with it.”

No. His tone wasn’t your imagination.

“I have a feeling you’ll end up being the prince that has to deal with someone else’s fuck-ups instead,” you laugh.

His lips curl back into a smile as he starts to laugh with you. “Doesn’t sound out of character,” he replies.

His pretty blonde hair ruffles a bit as the wind picks up. And shit - is that wind bitter. The miniscule fire wasn’t doing it’s best to warm you. You notice your limbs are shaking, too much for your jacket and hands to conceal. Zeke surely notices too, he’s been eyeing you this whole time after all.

“Here,” Zeke offers, pulling a thick corduroy coat off of the back of his chair.

“No, no. You should wear that. I’m alright,” you protest, rubbing your hands over your arms vigorously to try to stop your shuddering.

Zeke gets up from his seat anyway and crosses the gap between the two of you. You look up to him once he’s standing over you, embarrassed. Two big hands drape the hefty fabric over your shivering shoulders. You immediately feel warmer as your body heat gets trapped underneath it.

“Thanks,” you mutter, pulling on the jacket to adjust it on your arms.

The wind still howls as Zeke goes back to his metal chair. He sits down casually, taking another drag of his cigarette as his eyes move back to you, lingering on you gently -- like he feels satisfied or nostalgic. Your features looked so beautiful in the faint orange light of the fire, as the only focal point in his vision while darkness clouded everything behind you. He couldn’t help but stare.

“I do mean it,” he says as he exhales, “that you’re pretty.”

His words hang there for a moment. They wait for you on a hook, persuading you to take his bait. So he could reel you in.

“Trying to flatter your superiors huh? Well that’s one way to get what you want,” you retort.

“Who says you’re my superior, Captain Reader?” he jokes.

You laugh at him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you begin, “but I’ve never seen you around before. Are you from another branch of the military?”

Zeke pauses, letting out a huff of air.

“You know, with a reputation like yours, one would think you’d know your enemies a little better.”

Your face drops from a smile that rested high on your cheeks to a shocked, open-mouthed glare. You’re frozen. Why didn’t you assume…

“You’re the other Jaeger…” you trail off.

Zeke brings the cigarette back to his mouth and flips his book back open in response.

You stare down into the fire, unsure of what to do or say next. You were mortified. Maybe saying nothing was the answer - you’d already dug yourself into a hole by flirting with your prisoner. And damn, did Zeke deliberately let you. He knew who you were. He wanted you to feel this way. He led you on.

Who was supposed to deal with your fuck-up now?

You stand up, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“Goodnight, Zeke,” you say quietly, dropping his coat onto the chair.

You move quickly through the dark air that nips at your ears, back to the safety of your tent.

***

“Don’t go off and be an idiot,” Levi warns.

You assure him you wouldn’t, pouring a big glass of wine for yourself with a smile spread across your face.

Levi had been more than reluctant to let your soldiers bring this wine, but you’d done some convincing. This forest had been boring for the past few days. Laughing over a few drinks would be a sure way to liven up the crowd. You were just excited to finally get a taste of this Marleyan wine that everyone had been raving about.

You hadn’t seen Zeke since that night three days ago. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get him off of your mind. Partially because you were horribly embarrassed. And angry. You couldn’t believe you’d walked into his trap like that, practically offering yourself to him as a subject to humiliate. You were sure he’d enjoyed every bit of it.

And the other reason you couldn’t get him off of your mind…

He was a bit gorgeous. And you loved the way he talked to you, how it made you feel. Even though your time with him was so short, you secretly wanted more. You cursed yourself for thinking about him like that after all the harm he’d done to the Scouts. All of it made you sick - it was wrong, it made you feel like you had dirt on your hands.

But what if you tried to talk with him again? Just to sort your feelings out. Then you could be free to forget about him. This time, you would control yourself. You knew who he was now, and what it meant to be speaking with him. You were allowed to speak with him, you just had to be careful if you were going to proceed. None of you could trust him.

But the curiosity was still killing you.

You swirl the wine around in your glass as you dig the toe of your leather boot into the soft ground - trying to decide.

Anxious feet move below you before your mind is ready for them to, back toward Zeke’s tent.

It was nearly sundown, and beautiful purple rays beam through the forest, shattered from full display by hundreds of tree branches. The air was warm tonight, so there would be no need for Zeke's jacket again.

Once you see his camp, you notice he’s back in the same chair again. He’s still reading that torn-up book, this time with a pencil in his hand. He scratches little notes onto the pages here and there.

He looks up once he hears the familiar sound of your boots. The eyes behind his circular lenses scan you, lingering on the glass in your hand. You wonder if you should have brought him one.

“Hi, Zeke,” you say softly, making your way to the chair across the empty fire pit.

“Captain, thought I’d never see you again,” he says, a false excitement stuck in his voice.

You keep swirling your wine around in its glass, waiting for it to air out so you could take your first sip. It smelled divine, so fruity and fresh, in contrast with the earthy smells that the forest gave off.

Zeke looks up to you over the top rims of his glasses, unimpressed. You raise your glass to your lips, almost ready to tilt it back and let the chilled, burgundy wine rush into your mouth.

“That’s sluggish if you,” he remarks.

You pause, letting the cool glass linger on your bottom lip.

“What?” you bark, pulling the glass from your mouth.

He looks back down at his book, “No Marleyan strategist - or any good strategist for that matter - would drink in front of their adversaries. It makes you look sluggish.”

You just gape at him. He’s probably having fun while trying to irritate you. Two could play.

You put your arm out in front of you and flip the glass over, pouring the wine onto the wet dirt below. It splashes up onto your boots as it streams from your cup and runs down to spill into the fire pit.

“Happy?” you grumble, tossing the glass into the dirt. “Probably shitty wine anyway, considering you two come from the same place.”

He snickers, “Not quite. I was hoping you’d just hand the glass over.”

You regretted trying to talk to him now.

“Fine,” you sigh, getting up from your spot and turning back toward your tent. “Keep scribbling in your stupid book.”

“Actually, I was writing the two of us into the story.”

You’re sure he’s just pushing your buttons further - trying to lay another trap for you and capture you in another awkward moment of infatuation. But his words cause you to pause in your steps for a second.

“And what are we doing?” you question.

“We just cheated our way into heaven.”

“Creep,” you grumble before continuing to walk.

***

You hadn’t gone near that wine since. You had a grudge against it now, it completely ruined the mood last time you saw Zeke. But it had sure lightened the mood for everyone else, probably a little too much. Everyone except for Levi, of course. It was nearly impossible to change his mood.

In the meantime, you were still victim to unwarranted thoughts of Zeke in your head. This almost felt like a schoolgirl crush, how he bullied you a bit. This was more like torment, actually, considering you were trying to get him out of your head. But it didn’t change the fact that you liked what you saw.

Lately he was always reading that book and jotting down notes in it. And he rarely left his little corner of the campsite except for when he went on walks sometimes. You’d admire him from afar, careful never to let your eyes meet with his.

You’d take the images of him now burned into your brain back to bed with you, and stare up to the dark tent ceiling above. You’d fantasize about what it would have been like to meet Zeke in another life. One where the two of you weren’t enemies trapped on two different sides of a war. Where you didn’t feel guilt for your interest in someone who had jeopardized you and your comrades. Where the two of you were free to know one another.

You couldn’t pinpoint what kept driving this involuntary curiosity you felt towards him. It was tiring, honestly. But you wanted his company. Maybe you just wanted company in general -- it's not like you got along with him or anything.

Should you fix that? Did you even want to fix that? Would a peace offering be doing too much?

He did mention he wanted your glass of wine…

So one night, you cave. And you march over to the wooden cart that held dozens of cases of wine, an empty glass for Zeke in hand. You’re shocked to see only four measly bottles remain, laying on their sides in the only wooden case left. You could have sworn the shipment was full only a few days ago, but this camp had been set up for weeks now. Everyone here must be just as bored as you were, and several times more thirsty.

You pry open a cork and pour a few inches of wine into the glass, stopping to waft the crisp aroma into your nose. The air tonight was crisp too, it was cooler than it had been in recent days. You were adamant about remembering a jacket this time. The journey to Zeke’s tent feels long under the moonless sky. Hesitancy, followed by regret, pools into your brain as the dim light from his campfire comes into view.

Grow some balls, you’re convincing yourself that all of this means more than it really does. You’re bringing him a glass of wine for God’s sake.

There’s still time to turn around though… you could just finish the glass on your own. Out of range for him to bully you for it.

But he’s sitting there so prettily. He has his boots up on the rocks surrounding the fire pit, careful not to burn their soles in the flames. His blonde locks are pushed back slightly, giving you more room to look at his smooth face. And he’s certainly not busy, just reading his old book. Maybe he still had some compliments left for you despite all the bickering you two had done. Maybe he-

“Haven’t tried any of that ‘shitty’ wine yet, have you?” he questions. You hadn’t even noticed how close you are to him now. You’d gotten lost in him on the way.

“No…” you grumble, “it's for you. A peace offering.”

You stick your hand out. He receives the glass, lifting it up to examine it before taking a big drink.

“Ah,” he breathes, clearly satisfied. “It’s disgusting, Captain. Really.”

You stifle a laugh. “Everyone else seems to think so too. It’s all nearly gone.”

“Hmm,” he says, taking another sip, “None for you, I guess. Might as well just let it run out.”

“I think I will,” you mock, turning away from him to go sit in your chair,

The sizable fire Zeke had put together tonight was quick to thaw the chills on your arms. You really didn’t need your jacket after all, and opted to lay it over the back of your chair. The two of you sit there in silence for a while, taking in each other’s presence, observing the dying light in the forest.

Zeke looks at you eventually. Your eyes instinctually dart away.

“What made you want to come see me again?” Zeke asks.

You frantically search for an answer. You need to be careful.

“Boredom,” you reply flatly.

“You think so?” His attitude is back to how it was the first night you’d met. He’s engaged, focused, yet comes off so casual laying back up against his seat like that. He enjoys toying with you, like a cat to its prey.

Be careful.

“Don’t like my answer or something?”

That wasn’t exactly careful.

“No. You’re just not being honest.” He breathes that last word out like he needs to get a rise out of you, then he nonchalantly takes another drink while he waits for you to respond. Your mouth is open the slightest bit; you’re nervous, angry. He’s in your head now. He was reading you like that overused book of his.

“Then what do you want to hear from me?” you question. There’s thankfully still a false calmness in your voice.

“Just the truth. It’s not that complicated.”

You were sweating in front of this fire now. What was the truth? That you were interested in him? That you wanted nothing to do with him?

Be honest.

“I guess I just like your company,” you admit. Your eyes fall to the rocks lining the fire pit.

***

The discussion became pleasant after that, surprisingly. You guess you just needed to own up to how you felt. Your admittance caused some of the anger and tension tugging between the two of you to subside. The conversation was calm, collected, bouncing around from subject to subject: from the book, to life in Marley, to life in Paradis, to your occupation, and back to the book. Most of it was uneventful, but you liked that. It made it easy to pretend you were talking to him on the first night again, before you found out who he really was.

You left his camp with a giddy smile on your face. You’re on your way back to your tent now, after saying your goodbyes to Zeke. It was late, and you needed to be up early to have an important conversation with Levi. And god forbid he found out about any of this business between you and Zeke. Even though nothing was serious, it would come off unprofessional. And rightfully so.

You’re so lost in thought by the time you’re opening your tent door that you didn’t realize your arms were cold. The jacket you brought was probably still hanging off the chair at Zekes fire pit. It would look suspicious if you left it there and one of the other soldiers happened to see it.

You go back quietly, careful not to let anyone hear your footsteps. A couple of scattered thoughts weave their way into your head on your journey - what if this was another ploy of his? An attempt to get you back where he wants you, this time late at night. But how could it be? You were the one who left your jacket there. If anything, this was your own attempt to lead yourself back to him. Did you want him that badly… deep down?

When you reach your chair, you find it to be empty. You check around its sides, back, and underside - no jacket in sight. Out of the corner of your eye, a sliver of light shows from under the tarp serving as Zeke’s tent door. He’d probably noticed it and taken it inside with him after you’d gone home.

Halfheartedly, you meander to the tent door. You tap on it once the limited glimmer of light from inside touches the toes of your boots.

“Zeke? Do you have my jacket?” you whisper, still flicking the tarp to get his attention.

No answer.

Cold air stings your exposed skin as a draft swoops down through the camp. You also were wary of any observers that happened to be out this late at night. There was no telling what it looked like you might be doing outside his tent at the moment. The more uncomfortable you became out here, the more impatient you got.

“Zeke!” you hiss, whipping your head around your shoulder to double check your surroundings.

Still nothing but silence on the other side. Had he fallen asleep already?

The urge to pull back the tent door hits you. It would only take a moment to retrieve the jacket, then you’d be on your way.

Once again, making this a bigger deal than it really is.

But that didn’t matter. It felt like a big deal. That’s what every situation that involved him felt like. A big, complicated, multidimensional deal.

Be careful.

That wasn’t the answer either. Being careful was a good tactic when it came to strategizing your next moves in war. It was sometimes rendered useless when dealing with love. This was out of your control. And that was ok. That was what compelled you toward him - the mystery, the rush.

Let go.

You grip the tarp, it crinkles under your stiff fingers as you pull it back. A rush of warm air hits you, along with the light of a few oil lamps. And Zeke… shirtless. Sitting on his unmade bed with your jacket in hand.

The sight of his sculpted body in front of you sets a nervous, unprepared spark off in you, causing you to shut the door fast and stumble inside. And all at once, there you were - back in Zeke’s grasp. You accepted that wanted to be there.

“My jacket... ” you say, staring hard at the fabric in his hands, trying to avoid eye contact with his bare chest.

He stands up in silence and comes to your side, raising the jacket up once he gets real close to you. Oh no, he’s draping it over your shoulders again, slowly this time around, taking his time to stare into your puppy dog eyes. Dammit - the hot cheeks, the butterflies, the embarrassment. All of it was back now, in an instant he had you feeling like puddy in his hands. The two of you stare at each other as his hands adjust the jacket around you, stopping to play with one of the buttons on the front.

“You’re forgetful,” he mumbles, still focused on the button on your chest. His tone is sweet and quiet, a small smile appears out of one corner of his mouth.

You weren’t breathing, or thinking. Just looking down innocently at the hand that was so close to you.

“I’m not… normally,” you say quietly.

Zeke’s hands move to grip each side of the front of your jacket gently. His eyes move up from the hands placed on your jacket, and back to you. To your lips. You part them at the realization, swallowing the lump that suddenly appeared in your throat.

He shifts further in towards you, tugging on your jacket the slightest bit.

One cohesive thought rises up in the blankness of your brain. You want to kiss him.

The urge was mutual. Your lashes flutter against your cheeks a few times before you shut them, turning your head slightly to the right. Zeke follows your lead. You feel warm fingertips touch your chin and guide you to his soft pair of lips. His other hand abandons your jacket and comes down to meet your waist, slowly sliding to the small of your back. You melt into his touch, pulling yourself in closer. Chills go down your neck at the sensation of being in his arms, at his mercy. It feels so right, so warm and gentle. You want to keep going - so bad. You want him to hold you, touch you, kiss you harder.

But only for a moment.

You pull away once the guilt hits your core, gently touching your fingers to your lips.

Zeke stares at you, his eyes a bit wider than normal. His arms have gone limp at his sides without having you to occupy them any longer. You can tell there’s something on the tip of his tongue, something that might save the situation and bring your lips back to his. You didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s wrong. This is all wrong,” you say, backing up into the tent door behind you.

You think of the war. You think of your duties. You think of who Zeke really is. Any fluttering in your stomach was gone now, instead it was filled by tinges of regret.

“You’re right. It is,” he responds. He walks back over to his bed and sits on the quilt ruffled at its end. He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his head away from you. “I figured you’d be smart enough not to kiss back.”

You were almost too shocked to notice how much his words burned. Your mouth hangs open as your eyes squint at him a bit. Emotion courses through you as your mind crashes down from the high you were just on. You needed out of this tent.

You grip the tarp resting against your back and fling it open. You felt lost, speed walking away from Zeke’s tent and toward the center of camp. The night concealed the confusion on your face, but only for a minute. A fire glows near your tent, lighting up your surroundings - its Levi. You try your best to avoid him, changing your course to avoid his eyes.

“What are you doing awake, Reader,” Levi questions dully.

You don’t let out any response other than stopping in your tracks.

“Is everything... alright?”

“I just,” you search for anything appropriate, any excuse for your apparent distress, “don’t like being in this forest.”

You both go quiet for a moment, listening to the snapping of thin branches in the fire.

Levi breaks the silence, “That’s actually what I was going to mention to you tomorrow. The MP’s need you for something. I was going to give you the choice to go back, or stay here.”

Going back. Maybe that was the right answer you’d tried so hard to find.

***

You shove all of your belongings into your suitcase early the next morning. It didn’t take you long to decide you needed to abandon this mission. Nothing between you and Zeke would ever work out, and your feelings for him were only a burden to everyone here, and yourself.

You lug your bags to a horse and cart that had been set up for you, tossing them over the cart’s walls and into the back.

Climbing up into the front seat, you notice a gift waiting for you - that overused book. Zeke must have finally figured out how to fake his way into heaven.

You decided to read some of it on the way back.

Zeke sure had written his own story inside of it. All of the notes he’d scribbled in the margins were in another language, presumably from Marley - a secret story you’d never get to understand. Only for him to know.

***

You heard news of what happened in the forest a few days after you arrived home. You couldn’t process it at first, instead you just sat in disbelief and denial. Then the ‘what ifs’ set in. What if you had stayed? Maybe you could have stopped Zeke from doing all the damage he decided to cause. The tear-filled anger set in after that.

There was only one chapter of his book left now. You felt disgusted looking at it, a reminder of everything you’d felt for him. You needed to sit yourself down and get through it so you could finally throw it away - and finally forget about him forever.

You come to the final page. It was intended to be blank, a sort of protectant between the ink on the last page and the back cover. But instead, there’s a penciled in note. From Zeke.

His writing in your language was messy and shaky. You assumed he could read in your language, but may not be practiced in writing in it. This was probably the first message he’d ever written in it. All for you.

—

Dear Captain Reader,

I tend to avoid feeling guilty for much. I probably won’t feel guilty for everything I’m about to do to your soldiers in this forest.

I did feel guilty, however, when I saw your beautiful face that night you found me alone in the forest. And then I realized you were caring, brilliant, and a strategist that was far smarter than I was.

Well, this was my attempt at strategizing.

Pulling you in and then pushing you away. I hoped the guilt and confusion would make you leave. Make you think you were unfit for the assignment, too distracted by me. Heartbroken, even. Anything to get you out of here.

Now, I’m not too sure there will be anyone to rescue you. I won’t be able to again. Take care of yourself. Stay sharp.

I hope you enjoyed the book. I was really never a fan of the ending.

Zeke

—

Author's Note:

Dear anon: You gave me a lottt of free rein with this one, so I hope it was ok ●﹏● (and not too angsty and complicated lol. You said they kinda hate each other but theres chemistry and I just ran with it. Oopsies.) This was one of my favorite fics to write, ever, I think! I had a lot of fun with the dialogue especially. Thanks so much for the request, and thanks to everyone else for reading! Lots of love - Shep :)

254 notes · View notes

ootahime · 3 years

Text

what is utahime’s role in the future? — a prediction (manga spoilers)

part 2 (unedited)

part 1 is here!

let’s continue answering the question: is utahime weak?

chapter 135

what preparations is utahime making? like i’ve mentioned before, i theorize that she needs to charge up in order to use her technique. since momo and the other kyoto students are fighting on the front line to buy time for utahime, i believe that they trust that their teacher’s ability can help turn the situation around.

what do the students think of her? do they think she’s weak?

chapter 128

mechamaru manipulates the circumstances in a way that allow him to keep the kyoto people away from danger. this has more to do with how much he cares about his classmates and his teacher rather than seeing them as incompetent sorcerers who can’t hold their own. notice how he says “EVEN utahime”.

chapter 128

kamo thinks mechamaru doesn’t have that much faith in the Kyoto students—but this isn’t true at all! he knows who the enemy is and has a grasp of how dangerous they are. he just wants to keep his friends safe. besides, kamo is a semi-grade 1 sorcerer which means he’s more than capable of defending himself against curses. but since he’s being kept safe too, it suggests that this is not a matter of keeping weak people away from fighting :)

chapter 41

this seems a bit off topic but let’s talk about the misogyny in jujutsu society. momo points out to nobara that the women from the zenin clan are expected to be perfect. the misogyny runs so deep to the point where some women aren’t allowed to even fight. you may think that this is just about the zenin clan but it’s about society as a whole. that’s why nobara responds to momo in a more personal sense. she doesn’t care about the boys versus girls issue because she embraces all aspects of herself. she loves herself when she’s strong, and she loves herself when she’s dressed up and beautiful. if it only applied to the zenin family then nobara wouldn’t have responded the way she did.

in the chapter before, nishimiya explains, “even if a girl has skills, if she’s not cute, she’s looked down upon. of course, if she’s only cute with no skill, it’s the same. women sorcerers aren’t expected to be skilled, they’re expected to be perfect.”

some of the female characters in jujutsu kaisen apply to this. for example, maki and mai. they’re looked down upon because one can’t use a cursed technique or see curses, while the other’s cursed technique is weak. in chapter 148(?) naoya says the only thing maki had going for her was her face, but it’s ruined now so she’s nothing. the zenin twins fall under the “cute but not skilled” category in jujutsu society. before we can put utahime into a category, let’s examine mei.

i promise this will all connect so please bear with me LOLLL let’s move on to mei. we find out that mei has the ability to control crows. she deems this ability as weak because it’s simple and doesn’t have much attack or defense power.

she convinces herself that a sorcerer’s worth doesn’t revolve around their CT. by following this ideal, she soon found herself at her limit because you can only hone your physical abilities to an extent. she said she was crushed because she thought that her weak CT would forever stunt her ability to grow as a sorcerer. but because of all the training she did in order to not rely on her CT, she was able to combine her physical prowess with her technique to make what’s best of her ability to control crows.

mei is an example of a perfect woman based on the standards the jujutsu world has established for women. although she has a weak technique, she makes up for it with adept use of weapons and physical prowess. she found a way to incorporate this “weak” ability to make it something strong. she’s beautiful and powerful so therefore, she was promoted to be a grade 1 sorcerer. she is what a woman is expected to be in order to be acknowledged by others.

what about utahime? why couldn’t she follow the same footsteps as mei?

i can’t answer that because we don’t really know much about utahime so far. i can only speculate why. being a grade 2 sorcerer at 20 is not bad at all. but why is she stuck as a semi-grade 1 sorcerer at 31? that surely proves she’s just weak, right?

semi-grade 1 sorcerers are sorcerers who have performed well on missions with a person accompanying them. i feel like when utahime was on a mission to exorcise a grade 1 curse on her own (the final step of the grade 1 promotion process), something happened that gave her her scar and made her unable to fulfill the mission. it’s either that or she did complete the mission but her appearance is too unsatisfactory. can you recall what nishimiya said? if you’re cute and not skilled, you’re not good enough. if you’re not cute and skilled, you’re still not good enough.

in men, scars are a symbol of honor and strength. on the other hand, scars on a woman’s face are seen as an imperfection. as a result, those who are scarred are deemed imperfect and unsuitable for marriage.

gojo hates the way things are run because the higher ups are so close-minded. they make decisions on a whim and have no compassion for sorcerers who are breaking their backs on their orders. he wants to change jujutsu society for the better by raising the next generation of sorcerers to be as strong as him. the old-fashioned and narrow-minded attitude of the higher ups leads me to believe that utahime is stuck as a semi-grade 1 sorcerer because she is viewed as imperfect. utahime’s scar is most likely the reason contributing to her being held back. who would want to promote a woman who isn’t beautiful enough to be a grade 1 sorcerer?

she obviously has a lot to offer because she’s a teacher at Kyoto. todo, a grade 1 sorcerer, has never shown any sign of disrespect towards utahime despite the fact that he surpassed her in rankings. he trusts in her and believes she has some things she can teach him.

can we additionally address the fact that gojo respects mei? he refers to her as mei-san and says that there’s no way she’d cry because she’s strong. mei has a weak technique though? 🤔🤔🤔 controlling crows?!?!?! nah im jk, mei is strong with and without her technique, of course. since gojo respects someone like mei, a person who doesn’t have an out-of-this-world technique, i believe his view of someone strong isn’t solely based on their technique. when he calls utahime weak, he may not be insulting her CT. it’s just all jokes because in chapter 65, geto and mei join in on the fun too and pick on her. mr. hot shot knows that utahime is a valuable asset to his plans so he entrusts her with the task of unearthing the traitor(s). if she was so incapable of such a thing, why did he pay mei to do the same job? 🤔

*a lot of people think mei was actually paid by gojo to promote his students but that’s incorrect. it goes against everything gojo advocates for. he wants his kids to enjoy their youth because his was taken away. being a sorcerer is not a smooth job and no matter how many years you’re in the profession, it never gets easier. he doesn’t wish for his students to be thrust in a world full of hardship and loss, which is why he was so against yuuji and yuta’s execution. he works hard to preserve the innocence of his students. he doesn’t want yuji’s heart to break, not even once. why would he pay mei to promote his students to grade 1? that would automatically strip them of their innocence and youth and push them into a world full of burden and pain.

PHEW that was long. how does this all tie back to utahime’s future role in the story?

her CT will probably come in clutch in an important battle

she might be the one to help get gojo out the box (A REACH i know)

she will help gojo with his plan to overthrow and change jujutsu society as a whole

i don’t really have to dive into the first bullet point. as for the second one, look at what i found!

in the second opening, utahime is seen searching for something in a dim forest.

*i read an analysis about opening 2 and apparently this just symbolizes her looking for the traitors. that makes sense too.

in chapter 144, this scenery pops up right before they enter master tengen’s base(?) the branches are thicker than in the opening but it gives the same vibes to me. i think utahime will be the one to break gojo out.

why utahime? well, gojo is their best shot at stabilizing whatever the fuck is going on right now. she knows it’s a crime to unseal him, but she wants her students to be safe so she’ll probably risk it. plus, gojo’s flashback starts with him breaking utahime and mei out of a building with a barrier. i think utahime breaking gojo out of the prison realm will make a perfect parallel :3

that theory is a massive ass pull I KNOW. it’s just fun to think about. it’s likely that kurusu hana will be the one helping yuuji and megumi out with that.

if utahime isn’t the one freeing gojo, she will definitely come face to face with the other traitors.

ive read numerous Reddit threads and tons of users think she’ll play a small role in the story—nothing too significant. i’m perfectly content with that as well. i never expected her to be gojo level or anything like that LMAOO. as long as we get to see her technique in action, i will be satisfied 😮‍💨

——

i feel like there may be a few things i missed but i tried to include everything i could think of. the organization of this post is quite off but im too lazy to rearrange it in a way that makes it more coherent LOL. thank you so much for reading. ill probably analyze gojo and utahime’s interactions in the manga and anime next :-)

#gojohime #gouta #gojo x utahime

134 notes · View notes

noobsomeexagerjunk · 3 years

Text

Always Shine and Redefine Our Humanity

How Eret Contributes to the Dream SMP's Narrative Themes of Change and Self-Discovery

I can’t believe listening to a song from a fairly obscure but growing musical (where I took this post’s title from) would prompt me to inspect Eret’s character more but here we are. I will heavily use @theeretblr's (whom you should subscribe to, btw) Character Explanation thread as a basis, as well as statements about their character from their most recent streams and things that I have gathered from other essays by people who clearly have been watching from the start.

This will include sentiments and theories I want for the character because I kinda got attached to them as of late. Please keep in mind that I have been watching since around Late November-Early December, so my biases would be appropriate to such a viewer.

This essay is a discussion of the roleplay character.

1. Eret is Self-Preserving & Versatile in Skill (and this is why they're powerful)

"Those who are given Power hold on to it."

Something I’ve observed concerning Eret’s Betrayal of L’Manburg was their motivations for doing so. For a time they have believed that power and security mattered. For a time their interests went first. CC!Eret referred to the choice as "an offer no one would refuse" as well. This wasn't just luxury and (they didn't know it at the time, but false) power, it was the protection they would be allowed to have by the admin of the server. It was being allowed to do whatever they wanted, despite the means to it being dishonorable and interestingly enough, demanding of permission.

Eret was willing to do anything to remain secure and equipped, and I argue that they still do until now. The difference is that now, they are more concerned about how they maintain their security in that they wouldn't hurt other people or be extremely unethical in the pursuit of this security.

Also, they're privy to grinding when it's necessary, they know how to build structure and contraption, and they can hold their own fairly well. They're very well-spoken and can deliver on appearances and ambiance, excellent at both comforting and intimidating whomever they choose. They had to have been this skilled for a while.

2. Eret has a Forgotten History (of bringing down powerful groups of people, apparently)

"Those who don't know History are doomed to repeat it."

So remember that interaction with Foolish? I want to bring this up because I feel that having particularly close ties with a God of Undying/Death has implications.

Foolish also brings up "taking care of [a] Wither cult"—an organized group! Wasn't Eret known for taking down an organized group on the server? L'Manburg, at its founding. He was part of the rebellion against Manburg. He was against the Eggpire. Yep, that's a pattern.

What does this mean? Well:

Eret's hands were never clean from the start, clearly before the Final Control room, and it can be inferred that they're redder than they seem

Eret's tendencies towards self-preservation may have been influenced/learned from Foolish

Eret may have had (if they still don't do) an inclination to pursue power through the dismantling of organized groups that also seek/already have established power

Eret's current skills are the way they are due to his past

And we cannot forget the CC confirmation that c!Eret has relations with Herobrine, the infamous Minecraft urban legend known for the horror he brings and how many lovers of Minecraft frame him as this terrifying powerhouse entity beyond human comprehension. This relation is still a mystery, but from what we know, it can tell us a lot about what Eret has forgotten about himself and what Eret is capable of!

3. Eret is Concerned by What People (though only those that matter to him) Think of Her

"I think Respect is a big thing."

In light of her power, we have to remember that Eret regretted pursuing power upon recognizing the loss of respect and friendship that came with the throne. This becomes a much stronger detriment when she realizes that the power she thought she had never actually existed in the first place—one can say she would dread pursuing power for herself again. To subject oneself to the standards of others after all is to subject yourself under constant scrutiny.

In her regrets, she learns and realizes what she wants—to be loved and cared for, to be truly alive with her loved ones. It's why she decides to improve herself, and she works and makes the effort to try! She struggled (and still does) in the process of pursuing forgiveness, illustrating that her determination towards an end is very strong, gradual as it may be.

It's how she looks up to Wilbur! Still! I reckon the two believe they're responsible for the other. Change! What an incredible thing the two are able to do.

4. Eret Knows What He Wants (but is struggling to figure out how to get it)

"That was a long time ago. I've changed things and I know not to break people's trust anymore."

One of Eret’s biggest concerns right now in Season 3 is his relationship with the Crown, mixed and fickle it seems based on his streams during this time. His kingship carries more and more weight each passing day, debating whether forgoing the effort and spilled blood Eret had to get the Crown is worth it. (I mean, he accepted the restoration of his Kingship when George got dethroned.)

The Kingship is still power, and it's become true power after Dream had been put in prison. We know he's admitted being deathly afraid of Dream, so this period of genuine Kingship would be incredibly special to him. Ever since he's been finding ways to make his kingship genuinely meaningful, redefining the evils the Crown used to have by doing good to whomever sincerely, freely, and willingly. He's attempted allyhood with like-minded individuals based on his judgment of their character. Remember his Knights? These consisted of HBomb, Puffy, and Punz, each of which exhibited behaviors (predilection for community, dedication to duty, moral neutrality) he has as well!

But yet, the blood spilled for that Crown still stains him, and it cannot be denied that it will continue to do so for as long as Eret wears the crown. I wonder if he believes this, whether a part of him does deep down. Dream being in jail doesn't just mean freedom to be a king but freedom to quite literally be yourself, whatever it may be.

5. For these reasons, Eret Represents Constant Self-Actualization and Rediscovery

"I'm a strong, independent...whatever the fuck I am."

Given the points established above, Eret is unfamiliar with her full self and wants to shape herself into someone desirable and genuinely contributing kindness to a clearly broken world, a world whose brokenness she also happened to contribute to.

Her enthusiasm for History and the pursuit of enlightenment speaks volumes to this motivation. It's her repeated, dedicated efforts to try and try and try and try, to be better! Not just to be a better person herself but for everyone else to be able to be better too! She's aware that perfection is impossible, but clearly recognizes that constant reevaluation of the self is nonetheless necessary.

It's how she's open to engaging with as many people as possible despite differing opinions and carried baggage. She researches and explores and examines! She does no harm but takes no shit.

Every facet of her, to the terror her eyes have been known to give, to the air of affirmation radiating in her domain of a Pride castle, to the blood that decorates her fingers, to the people she has given support to, to the people she has disadvantaged, to the History she keeps, to the part of herself she no longer remembers, to the power she carries—Eret knows how to be truly alive.

#hey eret if you're reading this feel free to respond in any way you can (especially if i get something wrong!)#dream smp #dream smp analysis #dream smp theory #eret #the_eret #eretblr #long post

44 notes · View notes

writertitan · 3 years

Text

Fate

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 5291 (not sorry)

themes: mentions of minor character death, nightmares, sassy!reader, confused!levi

requested by iman-the-simp

The breeze was harsh and whipped at your body as you made your way to your temporary lodging. It had been a long day of meetings with your new superiors, getting up to speed on what it meant to be a soldier, and trying not to lose your cool. There had also been a lot of spying, and whether they were aware that you noticed or not, apparently it didn’t really matter. After all, they were still trying to figure out where to put you and they knew you’d have to go along with whatever they said. Would you be most useful in the Garrison Regiment, or perhaps with the Military Police? Pyxis had basically vetoed placing you with the Scouts and part of you was relieved for that. Your set of skills were put to use when defending someone, not fighting someone. Or, in this case, fighting something.

You shuddered at the thought of having to face a titan in the flesh.

The door to your room came into view and you relaxed a little, ready to just take a breather alone, but the call of your name made you tense up and turn around slowly to see who was calling you. It was an MP, a new recruit, and it took you a minute to remember her name.

“Private Hitch,” you greeted her cordially, her name finally popping into your head, but you couldn’t hide the irritation that edged your words. What could she possibly want? She’d been one of the spies you’d caught watching you today, and she’d done her duty very poorly.

“Sorry, I know this is a pain, but...you’re wanted for another meeting tonight and I’m supposed to take you,” she explained. You noted the way she tensed around you, and the slight shakiness in her voice as she spoke to you, though she did a decent job of trying to remain calm. You could only imagine the rumors going around about you.

With a loud and exasperated sigh, you ran a hand over your head and gave her a frown, though it wasn’t directed at her, despite her willingness to spy on you all day; you were upset with the situation you were finding yourself in, and how it somehow got worse and worse. You just wanted to be alone.

“Fine,” you quipped, and followed her along long hallways and past closed doors with muffled voices on the other side, until you got to a familiar one. This had been one of the meeting rooms you were constantly finding yourself in these days.

Hitch opened the door and let you in, and you stepped inside rather confidently, though you had no idea what this was about.

You saw a few familiar faces as your eyes scanned the room. There was Pyxis, Zachary, and Dok, and...new faces. Confused, you tilted your head to the side as your eyes met blue ones, and then grey ones.

“Who am I meeting today?” you asked bluntly, looking towards Pyxis, the friendliest one of the group.

He was already smiling warmly, beckoning for you to come and sit. You did so, opting to sit as far away from them all as possible.

“No need to be upset,” Pyxis told you, gesturing towards the two new faces at the table. “This is Commander Erwin of the Scout Regiment. And this is Captain Levi.” He pointed out Commander Erwin as the blond, and Captain Levi as the black-haired man. When Levi glared at you, you glared back.

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I don’t know what I’m doing here, either. This is clearly more of a meeting for the higher-ups.”

The last sentence was directed more towards Erwin, but Erwin didn’t indulge him with an explanation. His eyes were trained on you, examining you shamelessly. You’d only heard snippets about Commander Erwin, but of course had never seen him in person. All of this was new to you.

“You’ve got quite the skill set, I’m told,” he greeted you. His voice was deep. Even though he spoke calmly, his voice seemed to boom. Definitely a Commander.

“You could say that,” you replied, eyes shifting to Captain Levi briefly. The way he seemed to stiffen up and also examine you a little harder caught your attention right away. It was as though whatever Erwin had said triggered him. What was his deal?

Erwin chuckled at your demeanor, which caught you off guard. And the fact that you were once again caught off guard by someone made you mad. It was the reason you were here in the first place. Pyxis had laughed at you the first time he’d laid eyes on you, much like Erwin, and it was so disarming. Now look at yourself.

As soon as you realized your mistake, you fixed it. Straightening up and hardening your gaze, you met Erwin’s eyes without hesitation, even going so far as to quirk up an eyebrow. In a way, you were challenging him to just get to the point. You’d have liked for this meeting to be done with as soon as possible.

From beside Erwin, Captain Levi scoffed a little.

“I know Darius Zachary and Commander Pyxis are deliberating on where to put you, in their respective regiments,” Erwin began, “but I was hoping to speak with you about joining the Scouts.”

“This is only a formality,” Zachary immediately interrupted, shooting Erwin a glare. “This is not to be taken seriously.”

“Duly noted,” you replied coolly, arms folded over your chest as you stared between all of them. Your glare faltered when your eyes met Levi’s again. He was struggling to pick an emotion. You saw him waver between annoyance and curiosity and even confusion, if you were reading him right. And, usually, you were spot on.

Pyxis laughed that same laugh that had taken you by surprise and gotten you caught, and you looked at him with a bewildered expression, never failing to be surprised by his reactions to things. The atmosphere was so tense. How could he always find it in him to laugh at any situation?

“We all know you’re pushing hard to have our little prodigy in the Military Police, Zachary, but please remember that there is a process to these things,” Pyxis chided gently, a smile ever-present on his face, and then it seemed like he had taken everyone by surprise at that. Nonetheless, it got Zachary to back off and lean back in his chair, silently allowing for whatever was happening to continue.

Erwin cleared his throat and leaned forward, eyes intent and determined as they stared right at you. “Whether you think so or not, your talents would be highly advantageous in the Scout Regiment. I believe we’d benefit from how you’ve used those talents, on the field. The Scouts also have much more experience with...less traditional ways of recruitment. It would be an easier transition than transitioning into a soldier with the Military Police or the Garrison Regiment. We’re willing to work with you.”

It was difficult to keep your gaze fixed on Commander Erwin when Captain Levi was practically twitching beside him, eyes slightly wider now as he stared at you, clearly trying to figure you out. Your eyes flickered over to him more than once, your own gaze questioning him, but eventually you were able to ignore the captain and focus solely on Erwin. Maybe Levi was just a weirdo. That’s what you’d heard about the Scouts anyway; all of them were outcasts in their own right.

“I ask this in the most respectful way possible...you’re asking me to voluntarily get eaten by titans?” you asked Commander Erwin, your eyebrow again raised up as if to challenge him. Nile Dok, who had been silent this entire time, actually guffawed.

“I’m asking you to risk your life considerably more than if you joined the Garrison or Military Police, yes,” Erwin answered, honest as ever. It did surprise you a little, but you were careful not to show him.

You didn’t answer right away but met everyone’s gaze calmly, all of them very concentrated on you and you alone. Clearly, you had every opportunity to have your fun with them. Maybe pretending to consider joining the Scouts could buy you a little alone time, force everyone to leave you be. Even if just for a little while.

A sigh escaped your mouth and that little noise alone made all five men lean in closer. As fun as it would have been to string them all along while you figured out a way out of this mess, you knew it would be no use.

“I’m not really into risking my life unnecessarily,” you said.

To his credit, Commander Erwin didn’t show any sign of disappointment or discontent in your answer. He must have fully expected it.

Levi looked to him then, back to being stoic and unreadable, but you caught a flicker of something in his eyes as he gazed at his commander. The emotion was gone before you could really make it out.

“For what it’s worth, it wouldn’t be an unnecessary risk,” Erwin said, ignoring Levi’s steely gaze. “You’d be doing something meaningful. And you’d be avenging those you’ve lost.”

Commander Erwin’s last words made your heart stop beating.

He got up calmly, like he hadn’t said something so earth-shattering, and Captain Levi followed suit automatically. You barely registered Commander Erwin saying something about it being nice to meet you before walking out with Levi. You barely registered that you were also standing up, following them despite calls from Zachary and Dok to stay where you were, but of course, you didn’t listen to them. You were only fully aware, fully back in your body, as you stopped at the corner Levi and Erwin had rounded, keeping yourself hidden as you peeked out and listened to their conversation.

“- should have known you’d brought me for a reason,” you heard Levi say. “I guess I’m not surprised that you’re resorting to ‘less traditional’ approaches to recruitment, as you so eloquently put it.”

Erwin chuckled.

“Thanks for coming, Levi. What did you think?”

“I think the kid’s sassy as hell. Don’t tell me I was like that,” Levi replied. Their voices were fading away the farther they walked down the hall.

“You were, and still are, very much like that.”

Before they turned another corner and were completely out of your line of sight, Levi paused and turned his head to look over his shoulder, meeting your gaze instantly. You felt your face grow hot but didn’t look away or try to hide; no use in hiding when you’ve already been caught.

The quirk of his eyebrow was almost mocking as he disappeared around another corner with Commander Erwin. But, more than mocking, it was challenging.

You set your laughably small sack of belongings on your new bed, taking a look around at your new room.

Temporary bed, temporary room, you thought to yourself, huffing a little as you sat on the edge and then flopped down to stare at the ceiling, legs still flopping off the edge. There was no way you were actually going to join the Scout Regiment. No way in hell. You were just here temporarily, to learn about their techniques, their day-to-day, and how you could potentially be useful in this regiment.

The scrubby window showed nothing but the black of night, a faint orange glow of a lantern outside the only real source of light besides the burning candle on the dresser across from your bed. The bed was creaky and the blankets were scratchy, not as good as what you’d had when you were temporarily lodging over with the Military Police. Still, you were hoping for more peace and quiet here, ironically, than you’d had back there with the MPs.

Though sleep should have been calling your name, you fought it with every fiber of your being, as you’d been doing for weeks now. There was, admittedly, a part of you that was exhausted, but the part of you that was overwhelming and overpowering told you to stay awake, for many reasons.

In an effort to distract yourself, you got yourself situated and put away what few belongings you had and were able to bring along with you, and then took out the leather journal you had somehow managed to keep to start writing down the events of the day. But all of that was done soon enough, and you didn’t want to waste paper on another mundane day, so you got up to exit your room and explore.

Commander Erwin and Squad Leader Hange had already given you a tour of the grounds, but it had been quick and, if you were being honest with yourself, you hadn’t really paid much attention. Why would you, when this wasn’t permanent? This was just a formality, as Zachary had reminded you time and time again. There was no need in remembering every detail of this place.

Silence and darkness engulfed you as you walked along the hall, vaguely remembering where the dining area was. You’d brought your candle along for extra light, fingers hooked around the brass handle of the holder as you made your way to...well, wherever you were going.

About to give up and turn back and hopefully find your way back, your eyes caught another flickering flame around the corner. When you rounded it, you were surprised to see a head of cropped black hair that was becoming increasingly familiar. Although you hadn’t spoken to Captain Levi since the meeting, you’d glimpsed him around the grounds during your arrival and subsequent tour. His back was always turned to you, or his profile was visible but he would never look at you. Any curiosity he’d had about you seemed to have been squashed. For some reason, that bothered you.

He didn’t look up from his cup of tea and stack of papers. But he did acknowledge the extra presence by calling out, “It’s well past your bedtime, brat. You better be halfway back to your room by the time I turn around.”

“That’s no way to talk to your subordinates,” you said without missing a beat, fighting the urge to smirk when Levi’s head whipped around. “I’m not your subordinate, though.”

Levi frowned at you, but didn’t look away. “Technically, you are while you’re still here.”

You frowned at that and walked over to where he sat, setting the saucer holding your candle next to his and sitting down.

“So, why are you still awake? Like you said, it’s past bedtime,” you said with an air of casualty, back pressing into the chair as you studied the man in front of you. Levi was definitely a force to be reckoned with. His attitude was obvious, of course, but there was something determined and unyielding in his eyes. His stoic demeanor was still edged with that same unstoppable nature. Captain Levi was definitely interesting.

You should have known from your few observations alone that Levi wouldn’t answer your question, but it still irked you when he didn’t even acknowledge it and went back to working his quill on the papers in front of him.

“Sorry I asked,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes, but then turned your attention to those papers with intrigue. “What are you working on?”

“Nothing.”

“...Can I help?”

“No.”

You huffed, annoyed, definitely about to say something snarky, but Levi cut you off before you could lash out.

“This is exactly why you should go to bed, kid. You’re getting cranky,” he said, sounding almost bored.

Maybe it was true. Maybe you were cranky from your lack of sleep. Maybe it would all come crashing down on you, the weight of everything that’s happened, and if you’d just rest, things would feel better. You would feel better. But that nagging part of you, the one that said to stay awake, whispered in the back of your mind about the darkness that was waiting for you if you did try to rest.

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered suddenly, and it came out meeker than you wanted it to.

Levi snapped his attention away from his papers to look at you then, eyebrows knitting together for a moment before finally relaxing back into an unreadable expression. Even then, you swore that it wasn’t a trick of the light when you saw a little bit of understanding in his eyes. But then the flame of the candles flickered and it was gone again, the emotion you couldn’t quite pin down from Levi, the one you’d seen during that meeting when you’d first met.

Wordlessly, he handed you a stack of papers he’d clearly already finished.

“Proofread these for any errors,” he said. “And there’s a pot of tea in the kitchen. You’ll want to heat it up again. And bring me another cup.”

You brightened up and nodded eagerly as you stood up, grabbing your source of light again.

“On it!”

You took a few steps and then stopped, face getting hot with embarrassment as you remembered --

“You don’t know where you’re going,” Captain Levi stated. It wasn’t a question.

“Maybe I do,” you challenged.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“I knew that.”

You should have been exhausted. You should have been on the verge of passing out, rocketing into a dreamless sleep for the night, out like a light. In many ways, you were completely worn out.

Your limbs ached and felt heavy from ODM training, and your eyes burned from being awake so long. You’d managed a few hours two nights ago, but the nightmares had been so realistic and so dark that you hadn’t been able to try and rest since then. Your insomnia headache, as you affectionately called it, was in full swing after exerting yourself all day.

And yet, as you collapsed onto your bed and closed your eyes and tried to just fall asleep and forget about it all...you couldn’t do that.

You couldn’t keep your eyes closed for more than a few minutes.

A frustrated groan tore through you as you curled up into your scratchy blankets, your stubbornness kicking in. Whether you wanted to or not, you were going to get some sleep tonight. Nightmares or no nightmares, it was getting ridiculous.

Your eyes stayed shut and you stayed unmoving, breathing evenly to try and coax yourself into some form of unconsciousness, but your mind still felt restless.

It’s no use, you thought bitterly, and then physically jolted in surprise when the words were said out loud.

Just not by you.

“It’s no use,” a familiar, achingly familiar, voice said.

Your eyes flew open and you frantically searched the room for her, but afraid to move a muscle from where you lay in bed.

And there she was, clear as day, so close you could have touched her.

“Saria.” You breathed out her name, hand twitching at your side, wanting to reach out and just touch her. She was right there. Just sitting at the edge of your bed by your feet, watching you with the most serene expression on her face. She had never looked serene when she was alive.

“It’s no use,” she repeated, cocking her head to the side as her wide eyes stared you down. “How could you possibly sleep knowing you killed me?”

Before you could even think to answer, you watched in horror as blood soaked through her dress, dripped from her hairline, dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She was getting more and more mangled as you stared, until finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry!” you cried out, ripping the upper half of your body from the bed to try and get close enough to her, to try and save her somehow.

Your hand was outstretched to the foot of your bed, reaching out to nothing.

Another dream.

The tears came swiftly after the realization hit. Just a few wretched sobs that you were unable to control, which died down once you got your bearings and a better hold of reality set in.

“Only a nightmare,” you mumbled to yourself, throwing the blankets off of you. No chance in hell you were going to attempt to sleep after that.

You were surprised to see how dark it was outside. The sun had only just set when you’d gotten back to your room, but now the early morning chill had set in and there was nothing but silence to keep you company. So, you’d slept after all. It just had only felt like 5 minutes compared to the hours you’d allegedly been out.

You lit your candle and padded out of your room, shifting uncomfortably in your newly issued uniform that you hadn’t even pulled off before trying to sleep. Barefoot, you wandered the halls until you came to the dining area again, a surprising wave of relief washing over you when the sight of another flickering flame came into view.

Levi was there again, a cup of tea at the table next to him like last time, but this time he was reading a book instead of working through piles of undoubtedly boring paperwork.

And he’d heard you again, like he had the first time just a few days ago. This time, he didn’t make a snippy remark. He did, however, look up from his book, likely to make sure it was who he thought it was. His eyes flickered back to the pages before his mind seemed to catch up with the full sight of you, and he immediately looked back to you and set his book down for a moment as you made your way over, Levi registering that something was amiss. You saw him take note of your eyes, the same eyes you were now positive were red and puffy from your little outburst, and then he looked over your rumpled uniform and jittery hands.

“There’s tea in the kitchen,” he said simply, picking up his book again.

You were embarrassed at not realizing you probably looked a little wild until just then, but were grateful that Levi didn’t comment on it. Now that you knew where the kitchen was, you made your way there silently and reheated the kettle, finding a small container of sugar. You poured a little less than a tablespoon into two cups after pouring out some steaming tea, nervously making your way back to where Levi was sitting.

Why were you nervous?

“I brought you another cup,” you started, then berated yourself internally when you saw the cup already by him was still half full. “I hope you don’t mind that I put just a little dash of sugar in it. I hate the way tea tastes after you reheat it. You can taste the difference.”

At that, Levi’s eyes shot up and he didn’t even try to hide the astonished gaze.

“What?” you asked uncomfortably, sitting down in the same chair you’d sat in before.

“Nothing. I just...have never heard anyone else say that before.”

To your complete astonishment, a very rare smile pulled at Levi’s lips, but he was gazing down at the cup of tea you’d brought him and not at you. Briefly, you wondered how it would have felt if he had looked right at you when he smiled.

“I’m glad I’m in the presence of someone with actual taste,” you said with a grin, heart skipping a beat when Levi actually chuckled at that.

Then, as soon as it had all appeared, his smile and his laughter died away and he gazed up at you with an apprehensive gaze. Your heart sunk, your earlier thought - hope - of seeing him smile at you squashed.

“If you’re having problems sleeping, you should talk to Hange,” he told you, voice a little stern.

At that, you had to scoff.

“Real nice, coming from you of all people,” you grumbled. “You should practice what you preach. Everyone says you basically have forgotten how to sleep.”

“I have my reasons-” Levi started, but you cut him off instantly.

“So do I.”

Again, you began to tremble, a flash of your lost friend at your bedside suddenly coming to the front of your mind. You tried to shake it away, but it still felt so fresh. With a frustrated sigh, you grabbed your cup of tea and took a heavy sip, not caring about the way it burned.

Levi seemed just slightly gentler by the time you spared a glance his way. His book was closed, index finger holding his place in his book, and he pursed his lips as your eyes met.

“Need to talk about your reasons?” he asked; a clear indication this wouldn’t be a mutual thing. Nonetheless, he was allowing you safety to talk to him, something you hadn’t really expected.

Something else you hadn’t expected was how easily you just let it all slip out.

“I couldn’t save my friend,” you explained, gritting your teeth as the confession was said aloud. It was a bitter pill to swallow. “When I realized the MPs were on our tail, I told her to meet up with the guy who had hired us as their...protection, so to speak. That’s what we’d been planning on doing that day: meeting up with our new contract for the first time. I’m sure you’ve already heard that that’s the reason everyone is so intent on bagging me. She and I...we were both really good spies, basically. Sometimes vigilantes, to be honest. And I didn’t want both of us to get caught, so I told her to go ahead and find the guy who’d just hired us, see if he could help somehow. Turns out he had only hired us to kill us, after we’d gotten some of his guys killed from a previous job. They tortured her, and then they killed her. The MPs demanded for me to take them to the meeting site. We got there much, much too late. It was hard, seeing her like that. All because of the choice I made. And now I just...can’t stop seeing her.”

The disgust you’d been feeling for yourself crept back up, almost made you gag, as the words weighed down on you. Levi was watching you intently, his eyes conveying that peculiar emotion. This time, he didn’t try to shield it with his stoicism.

You shifted around awkwardly, not knowing if you wanted him to say something or not, and then you stiffened when Levi frowned and leaned back in his chair, scoffing a bit.

“What?” you asked him, arms hugging yourself.

“It just feels like I’m being fucked with somehow,” he admitted, his eyes back on the tea you’d brought him, and then flickering back to you. “That wasn’t your fault. You made the choice you thought was best. That’s all.”

Although the words should have been meaningless coming from someone who didn’t know you at all, or know the situation, it dawned on you that maybe Levi understood more than you realized. Him being a captain in the Scout Regiment alone was reason enough. How many people had he lost? Against your own wishes, you felt yourself soothed by his words.

“I’m sorry about whoever you’ve lost,” you whispered. “What was their name?”

Levi tensed at the question and you knew you wouldn’t really get an answer.

“Too many names to list,” he breathed out. You nodded.

“My friend’s name was Saria,” you said, forcing yourself to say the words. It was painful to even speak her name. You felt ashamed to do it, undeserving. “She’d be more qualified for this kind of thing. I’ll probably be hanged soon or something. I’m not a soldier.”

Levi gave a fleeting smile again, shaking his head.

“Trust me, you’ll learn. Just survive it. That’s all you can do.” His eyes darkened, then softened, as he said, “Survive it for her.”

As soon as he got the words out, you found yourself making that promise to yourself, and to her.

“I will.”

“You’re sure?”

Levi’s surprise and apprehension was evident in his question, his brow quirked up as he gazed at you from across the table. It was supper time, and you’d made it a habit to sit with him and the other higher-ups during meal times. At first, he’d barely acknowledged you. Now, on the third day, and with your little announcement, he was forced to engage with you.

“Yup. I’ve decided to join the Scouts.” You repeated the words again, tasting them on your tongue, and they didn’t taste so bitter. Just a couple of weeks ago, you would have scoffed at the idea of being crazy enough to choose the Scout Regiment.

From beside Levi, an amused chuckle rumbled from Erwin’s chest.

“Zachary’s not going to be very happy about this,” he mused, but he was clearly enjoying the prospect of telling him, gaze faraway as he daydreamed the scenario.

Levi didn’t say anything else, but he gave you a wary glance again before getting back to his cup of tea. You shrugged and continued to eat your meal, though admittedly, you were too antsy to really eat. You ended up handing over the last of your bread to Levi, who shot you an incredulous stare, and the last of your vegetables to Hange, who seemed pleased.

“Take it, I’m full,” you insisted, already hurrying away from the table so you couldn’t be around to hear of the protests.

It was true, you felt full and didn’t have an appetite. Maybe it had to do with the anxiety coursing through you, though. Because, for once in who knew how long, you actually felt sleepy. Your eyelids drooped as you made it to your no-longer-temporary room and finished your night routine of pajamas and splashing some water on your face. You crawled into your no-longer-temporary bed and sighed in relief, letting sleep take you.

When you felt the bed dip, you tensed up. For what felt like several minutes, you waited in silence, hoping to be called into a dreamless sleep, but you were suddenly all too aware of your bedroom, and the fact that you just didn’t feel alone.

“It’s no use.” Saria’s voice pierced through the air and made your eyes fly open. The same words she’d used before. She’d never liked repeating herself when she was alive. Dead Saria was kind of annoying.

You wanted to tell her so many things, wanted to beg for her to let you sleep, but your throat felt like there was a rock lodged in it. The lump couldn’t be swallowed down. You couldn’t even scream. You couldn’t even move. Your body felt heavy, like lead.

“It’s fine,” Saria sighed wistfully, a hand running over the material of your blanket. “You’ll probably be dead soon. The Scouts, huh? Wonder why you chose the Scouts.”

And then you finally found the will to move, and clenched your eyes shut as you sat up in bed forcefully. When you opened your eyes again, she was gone.

A shaky exhale left you and you clambered out of your bed, wanting to just get out of there and already knowing where you wanted to go and who you wanted to see. You lit your candle and made your way out, barefoot and only in your nightgown.

The sight of Levi’s flickering candle made you feel ten times better, and the sight of Levi himself made you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

When you saw that there was a second cup of tea right in front of your usual seat, you let yourself smile.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman oneshot #levi one shot #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi fanfiction #levi fic #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman #levi #aot fanfiction #aot oneshots #aot #snk fanfiction #snk

229 notes · View notes

sup-hoes-its-me · 3 years

Text

Golden II (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: hello. This is the second part of the Kakashi amnesia fic. I was so conflicted on what to do in this one and admittedly, I am not satisfied with this. Not completely. I really struggle writing the second part of a trio, and it's evident here.

Part three is up!

Word count: 4200

_______

Kakashi struggled to maintain his normal persona after Y/N got into the incident. He just couldn’t shake off that desperate need to be around her. At this point, it was just instinctual to look for her in the crowds, and expect to see her waiting for him each time he got home from a mission. He missed her laugh and her smile, and the people in the village did not help.

His only solace was on missions where he could forget about it all. It was an impossible struggle, especially when everyone and their mother was consoling him every time he stepped outside to do literally anything. He didn’t want people in his business, especially something so sensitive.

The mornings were now cold and depressing. Each time he rolled over in an attempt to throw his arm around his girlfriend, he was only met with the hollow space where she used to be. He would bury his face in his pillows and shut his eyes, just trying to drown out her voice from his mind. But her scent still lingered on his linens and buried deep into the pillows.

He imagined her groggy eyes opening just a peek to see if he was awake before her, and he usually was. She would smile and scoot close to his body, curling up and hugging him around the waist, her head resting against his chest. He missed wrapping her up in a cuddly hug, peppering the top of her head with kisses.

He missed going to get breakfast with her, and her ranting to him about this new novel the store had in shipment, comparing the plot to that of other books she had read and gushing over the character development or the vocabulary or a plot twist she'd never seen. She was always such a nerd, it was adorable.

And he missed meeting up with her each night as she closed the store, her hugging him so tight he could feel her heart beating against his. She'd attack his face with kisses and giggles, pulling down his mask in between the bookshelves where no one could see and gracing his lips with a kiss, or a dozen, depending on the day.

He just missed her. But he knew it was for the best-not knowing her anymore, not getting attached all over again, or letting her get close to him again. He thought of her amnesia as a fresh start, a way to break up with her without crushing her emotionally. She would never know what she was missing.

He would be the only one suffering, and that was better to him than the other way around.

For Kakashi, it was always hard to imagine he would get to a place in life where he felt comfortable enough with someone to maintain such a relationship. He didn’t think he would grow to have these moments with someone he loved. He worked through so many walls he had built up over the years, fought against all his paranoia and superstitions, and for what? To feel his heart break?

He felt betrayed, by whom, he had no idea. He just felt like the stars had aligned perfectly in favor of screwing him over the moment he was comfortable, the moment someone was able to squeeze into his heart and share their love. It would take time to get over his feelings for her, he knew that. The memories would always linger, but they wouldn’t cut through him like they did now.

For now, the only thing he could do was lie in his bed until his next mission the following day. Without her, he didn’t see any reason to get out of bed anyway.

______

Y/N returned to her apartment after being discharged from the hospital, and did as she was instructed to do. Each day she would look through her belongings, pictures, trinkets, anything that had emotional value, hoping it would bring out some of her old memories. Nothing really changed. Sometimes she could see flashes of people in her head that lived in the village. Kakashi, that guy in the green suit, Yamato, the sweet girl that took care of her all her days in the hospital. All of them appeared in her mind at one point or another, but nothing strong enough to give her any knowledge.

Tsunade told her to just keep trying and hopefully, something would fix itself. It seemed like a shot in the dark, but anything was worth a try.

It wasn’t until a few hours into the cleaning process, scrapping blood and ink out of carpets and stocking her shelves of the store, that she found something of real importance. Deep in the back of her front counter, hidden in a drawer, sat a small shoebox, filled with stacks of papers.

At first, she assumed they were probably just old receipts, but that was not the case.

Inside she found many things. Photos, notes, letters, and little trinkets all stacked carefully in the box like her previous self took extra special care of them. For this reason, she took the box to the table to sit down and go through everything one by one. Anything was worth a try, and maybe this would propel her recovery in motion..

First she examined the letters. They were very short, but full of information about her past self, and she found herself more intrigued and surprised with every word. Each one was from Kakashi, she noted that immediately. Out of all people, she could not imagine that man sitting and writing out anything nice or thoughtful to her.

But she was wrong.

They stated things about how he was on missions and wouldn't be back for a month or so at a time. He often stated how badly he wished to come back home and visit her bookstore again. How he was sorry for being gone so long that he couldn’t help around the store.

The first few, dated as far back as 7 years, were very friendly, nothing out of the ordinary for a correspondence between friends. It still seemed sketchy to her that Kakashi took time out of his day to send her letters, but not unbelievable. It wasn’t until they progressed right in front of her eyes that she was taking in every word with awe.

They detailed how much he missed seeing her face, which he often described as beautiful and precious. She was his motivator that kept him going each morning and through the long nights, he said. The man proclaimed his love over and over in the letters starting four years ago until the very last which was from a few months ago. He was never very descriptive or detailed, but he got across what needed to be said and what was on his mind very effectively.

She had no idea Kakashi felt that way about her. He really didn't act like they had any relationship at all. He actually spent most days avoiding her at all costs. Of course, she would see him walking down the street, and wave through the glass panels of her bookstore, not that he ever cared. He would usually take one look over at her, and then walk faster in the opposite direction.

To say her first impression of him was a bit off putting was an understatement. Where other people like Yamato treated her with kindness and humility, he seemed to think he was too good to try and reconnect. Although, he was certainly a handsome man and very courageous. She could vaguely see why her old self was at least physically attracted to him. Even if he wasn’t acting the nicest now, the letters led her to believe he was possibly a hopeless romantic.

She scanned through the other things in the box. The photos were ones of her with all her friends, but the majority were just Kakashi. The first few photos, the oldest, with the most damage around the frayed edges, were of them when they were much younger. He didn't have on the jounin vest he wore, and she had such a baby face to match a toothy grin. Maybe they were teenagers, 20 somethings? She couldn’t tell for sure.

The photos were just of them together. Sitting by certain sights or buildings, hugging, eating, on every kind of date you could imagine. It looked like she documented each one. Time stamps on the backs in whatever pen color she had at the time, scribbled details here and there.

It made sense now, why she had a pile of disposable cameras in her room. Dozens of photos of Kakashi, decades of memories all piled up in this box between the pair. It felt surreal, seeing herself in places she couldn’t recognize, in the arms of a man she barely knew.

She must have really loved him before. Their relationship was one of quite a few years from the looks of the things in this box, and obviously she cherished even the little moments. She felt guilt pang in her chest, and her stomach to turn over painfully. How he must have felt when she told him she didn't remember him. How it must feel walking past her in the street and knowing what they had was gone. She couldn't imagine the pain he had to be going through.

And he said that the entire thing was his fault. That day he walked into her hospital room, he apologized for what he did to her, saying that his family was the cause for this, and that he should have come to the store earlier to make sure something like that never happened. He wasn’t a superhero, despite what everyone thought of him. He was merely a man, a shinobi with a love for porn novels and dogs and one girl he desperately wanted to protect. Now that was gone.

Needless to say, she felt awful. It wasn’t her fault for not remembering him, but it sure felt that way.

She set everything back into the box and put it in its place under the counter before flipping the open sign to closed and heading out into the street. She knew where he lived, only because of the return addresses on the envelopes of the letters. She was still quite familiar with Konoha and it's workings, some of the street names hazy but there. She was now determined to make it to his apartment, even if she had to ask everyone in town to help navigate.

If he was on a mission, so be it, but if he was home, she wanted to see the man.

Thankfully, she realized that he lived only a few streets away from her when a street vendor pointed her in the right direction, but damn, he lived on the fourth floor and she inwardly cursed him. Her legs were still a bit shaky from the incident, and she hadn't healed completely. Stairs were a pain for her. This entire man seemed like a real pain, honestly.

She finally made it to the fourth floor after hobbling up like an old man, and knocked on the second door. She was going to have a conversation with this man, the same man who was keeping their history a secret this entire time without trying to make a connection again.

No one in this town wanted to explain anything to her. Yamato was nice but he always beat around the bush and left when things started getting informative. Sakura just fawned over her broken limbs and injuries. And the man in the green jumpsuit was too loud, she usually had to kick him out once she felt a headache coming on. Other than that, she didn’t have many friends. They’d told her her family died in a “jinchuriki” attack, whatever that meant, so she didn’t have any family to ask either.

As she waited at the door, she felt her stomach churn. Part of her was genuinely curious how her younger self fell for him and what they were like together. Like, what was the appeal? He seemed kinda strange and distant, and she couldn’t help but want cuddles and love constantly. It seemed like an odd match, and Y/N couldn’t help but question it.

Opposites attract, I guess.

After a couple seconds, the door opened a crack, and a half dressed man answered the door. She found her face heating up a bit. He wasn’t even exposed in any way, he just wasn’t wearing his headband, nor did he have his jacket on, revealing toned arms and fluffy, messy hair that she had to admit was pretty adorable. Okay, so she could definitely see herself falling for someone so handsome, but regardless, she was on a mission.

He looked startled to see her standing there in all her glory, out of breath and bent over like she’d run the whole way here. She held onto the doorway to balance herself. Perhaps she was just a tiny little bit out of breath from climbing the stairs still. Y/N apologized quickly, “Sorry, give me a second. Going up the stairs is really hard to do and you live on the fourth floor so, yeah.”

“Who told you where I live?” He questioned, scanning the walkway to make sure no one else was around to be listening.

“You did, actually,” she answered after taking a deep breath. “I found an old box of letters from you, and I just went to the return address.”

The letters. How could he forget about them? He had tried to rid her place of all signs of him, taking out pictures of the two of them together save for a few with other people included. He took out every single belonging he had. The only thing he missed was the letters, ones he didn’t even know Y/N had kept in the first place. He cursed himself.

Her reading the letters made him feel violated. Even if the letters were for her, it felt like a stranger had just read some of his deepest and most pathetic thoughts, the ones of love and adoration and depression all piled up in a few letters addressed to a Y/N he used to know. He felt sick thinking about what this woman now knew.

“Okay. Well, listen, you really shouldn’t just come to my apartment like this. I’m not fond of drop in visits.”

“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I want, Kakashi Hatake, or should I say, my lover,” she laughed, resting one of her hands on her hip proudly. He felt himself wince at the sound of those words coming from her lips, seeing her childish grin. It reminded him too much of before, how they used to be, and he couldn’t handle that. Suddenly, he felt that familiar sickness rolling in his stomach. “How come you never said anything about it?”

“Because, I didn’t think you needed to know.”

“Why? Obviously you were a very big part of my life and I, yours,” she asked.

He sighed and leant on the doorframe, his eyes never leaving the village over her shoulder, anything other than meeting her eyes. He really did not want to have this conversation with her. He would have talked her ear off about a month before when she actually had her memories and knew who she was, but today, with the way she was, he might as well be speaking to a stranger.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Of course.”

“It’s because I was going to leave you after the accident either way” he confessed, and she could only nod. It wasn’t like she was gonna get offended by his words, she didn’t even know him. He continued, “It makes me sick knowing that all this was my fault in the first place.”

She tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“The reason that man and his lackeys kidnapped you is because of my father’s mistakes,” he sighed, “That bastard wanted to get revenge by hurting you, since you and I were close.”

She nodded, tapping the floor with her foot as she absorbed everything he’d said. That is what he alluded to before when they met in the hospital. She replied calmly, her tone so understanding it made him feel nauseous.“I see. Well, I wouldn’t exactly call that your fault. You definitely didn’t directly cause anything to happen, if anything it was your father. I’m not offended at all.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think. It doesn’t make this anyone's fault but mine.”

“Really, it’s not your fault. You could have never predicted this,” she tried to say, but he just went on, words flowing out faster than she could argue against them.

“It doesn’t matter. I knew that it was wrong to let you into my life. You would have lived just as happily if I’d have ignored you and let you meet some son of a baker, get married after a year, have a bunch of kids, shit, I don’t know,” he cursed. She could tell he was breaking down feelings he had been harboring for a while, and she pushed past him into his apartment, walking right under the arm he was resting on. This wasn’t something to talk about in public, out in the open. “I knew that if you were with me that you would never live a normal life, and I still let you fall in love with me, all because I was too selfish to put my own feelings aside.”

“Love shouldn’t be suppressed like that. You did what was natural.”

“Yeah, and look where that got us. Look where that got you, Y/N.” He waved to her bandaged legs. “You’re never going to remember me again, so it doesn’t matter if I rekindle our relationship, does it?”

She took a seat on the edge of his bed to rest her tired legs. He seemed so angry with himself, so much self hate radiating from his person. He was hurting so badly, and she just wished he would let her comfort him.

For a moment, she wondered if he would let her hold him like before, so he could pretend that things hadn’t gone wrong, even for a short time. Put his mind at ease if only for a short while. Y/N refrained from saying anything, though. Physical touch was probably one of the worst things for him right now, especially from her.

Instead, she meditated on what he said. She sat there fiddling with her fingers, trying to figure out what to say to him, anything that would make the situation easier for him. All she ever wanted was to make life easier for others, and if her way of doing so was being kind and thoughtful toward these worn shinobi, then that is what she would do.

She leaned back on her hands and let out a soft sigh, words surfacing in her brain that might just do the trick. “Kakashi, do you want to hear something that might bring you hope?”

“Whatever,” he brushed off, not thinking anything she could say would make the situation better. He’d tried for a month to make things better and nothing was working.

“I’ve been having dreams. Dreams of the past, dreams of memories that I have forgotten. When I look through photos, new images appear of people that I used to know,” she told him softly. “Tsunade says that means I’ll regain my memories with time, it’s just taking a bit longer than we had hoped. She thinks I can get everything back. The girl that you used to know.”

He stood there for a moment, just processing what she said. He could feel his heart beat a little faster in his chest, and he lifted his eyes slowly to meet her own. She always had such soft, gentle eyes, even now. “Do you have any dreams of me?” He was hesitant to ask, but she gladly nodded. “What do you remember?”

“Well, it’s mostly just snapshots here and there of you and everyone else. Short little tibbits of what life used to be like. I know Yamato has wood nature jutsu because in one of my dreams he had summoned this ginormous tree. I know there is a younger guy with the most yellow hair I’ve ever seen. I know that you have a red eye under the headband, but I don’t know what it’s for,” she explained, listing off some examples of things shehad dreamed of.

He hummed. “Firstly, you’re right about Yamato. He’s actually the only one alive who can use that jutsu.”

“Really? That’s interesting. Is that why he’s head of the...uh, that group? The ones with the animal masks?” she asked, feeling foolish at her lack of knowledge.

He let out the tiniest of chuckles, just a hint of one. “It’s actually ANBU, but good on you for knowing about them. And it’s not just because of his wood jutsu, he is also a very skilled and strong shinobi. He is a good team leader,” he explained. For a moment, he almost found it fun to listen to her struggle to remember things and then help her out. He noticed the way her nose crinkled when she was thinking especially hard about something, and god, it reminded him of before. He felt his heart thawing with each look her way.

Kakashi shut his front door and walked over to the other side of his bed. He took a seat against the wall, kicking out his legs. He was beginning to relax. “And about the yellow haired kid? That’s one of my students, Naruto Uzumaki. He’s a handful, but also a very talented, determined shinobi.”

She mouthed the name to herself a couple times, trying to memorize it. It sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t be too sure. A lot of things sounded like she should remember them, and she couldn’t exactly figure out which were right.

“And your red eye?”

“It’s a long story, and we won’t go into it. Simply put, this eye is called the sharingan. It’s a special dojutsu that only members of the Uchiha clan possess.”

“So you’re part Uchiha?”

“No. That’s the part I’m not gonna get into,” he brushed off her question. That was something that he really did not want to discuss again. He’d already told her the story once, he didn’t need to do it a second time, even if she had amnesia. When he looked over at her, she looked so familiar. Her eyes were filled with happiness, and he noticed that her lips were curled up into a sweet smile. “What are you happy about?”

She shook her head and turned her head to hide the upward curl of her lips. She was just so glad, her whole body felt warmer because of it. “Because you are being nice to me and explaining things. No one really explains things to me, they just skip around stuff usually,” she confessed as she tapped her heels together.

He could only shake his head at that. “You deserve to know at least the basic stuff, just until you get your memory back.”

“Hmm? You’ll explain any of my memories? Like any of them?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Oh, yeah, well explain this dream I had.”

“Shoot.”

Her smile took a mischievous turn, and he definitely noticed the change. He could only imagine what she was about to ask. “I’ll give you a hint...I know what you look like completely naked,” she giggled, falling back on the bed and covering her face with her hands.

“And you call me the pervert…” he sighed, crossing his arms behind his neck. Her laugh, it was like music to his ears. No matter what she could say, he was just relieved to feel her beside him, gleaming with a happiness he missed for nearly a month now.

“I really had a sex dream about you the other night, but you can imagine my confusion. I was like, what the hell, I don’t even know the guy,” Y/N laughed, “It all makes sense now.”

He rolled his eyes at her sense of humor. Things felt so normal, like before. He felt his chest grow warm at the feeling. Kakashi’s lips cracked into a grin under his mask, not that it mattered to wear the mask. She already saw his face in a dream, it seemed kinda pointless if they were alone.

Maybe he would let things go back to normal. Maybe he would talk to her more, and let her visit when he was home. Maybe he could go to her store when she waved to him instead of running away like a coward. Maybe he could let himself be happy, despite his faults, despite what happened to her. The wounds could be mended, he decided.

He just couldn’t help but be selfish and let her back in.

#kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #naruto x reader #naruto imagine #naruto one shot #i really love reader in this #i would marry her if i could #steal her from kakashi lol

204 notes · View notes

mollrat101 · 2 years

Text

@trying-to-get-somewhere-real brought up a really good point about Ava and George and I’m starting to rethink my stance on what Ava’s character wound is. I like to keep my mind open to being wrong, so I want to explore this.

I said in my essay it’s not clear what Ava’s character wound is and I thought that was true because we didn’t get a specific example.

But if George is meant to be her mirror character and meant to represent Ava as she currently still is then it’s true that it would make the most sense for George to be the one for Ava to tell her character wound to. It’s the middle of the season where Ava still has some progress to make and his actions predict a future event (the email). This is the moment to do it, if the writers are going to do it. Deborah clocks it earlier in the episode and then Ava tells George later it’s true. It would make a lot of sense.

Deborah: “Ohh, you’re that girl who never got to sit with the cool kids at the lunch table and she just never got over it.”

Ava (looks embarrassed): “We had walk-away lunch.”

Deborah: “There’s other people in the cafeteria and the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be”

Let’s examine Ava and George’s scene in the bathroom in episode 5 more closely.

First, they start off discovering they’re both from Massachusetts and bond over that. We know Waltham was the place where Ava felt lonely. She had no friends and she also has a critical and neurotic mother. A shitty childhood.

Then they talk about Ava’s, uh, “theory” as to why she wasn’t cool in high school. Her name backwards is still Ava and all the cool kids’ nicknames were their names backwards. But despite George pointing out to her that she wasn’t thinking of an exception to that, she still admits she wouldn’t have been cool.

“Well, even if I had, I was still pretty busted in high school.”

She seems embarrassed at George’s insistence he would’ve crushed on her when she was younger. She insists she wouldn’t have been crush worthy as a teenager/young adult. While I do think Deborah insults Ava’s body partly out of her fixation on Ava’s body (topic for another time), it’s also possible that Deb picks up on Ava’s insecurity with her body and uses that against her. That Ava remembers a time she wasn’t happy with her looks not that long ago.

So I think my initial dismissal of this as the explanation is that it felt very non-specific. Was there a specific instance of someone making fun of her looks? Did a specific person reject her because she wasn’t “cool” enough?

No, it doesn’t sound like it. Ava wanted to be liked by the elite kids in her high school and got rejected. And instead of Deborah’s advice which is to focus on other people besides them, she doubled down determined to get their approval long after that makes any sense as a goal. Instead of forming relationships, she hyper focused on her own status. She rejects other people who don’t live up to that elite status, her rejection of Deborah at first a great example. Ava has deep moral values, but she sometimes won’t exercise them if she thinks it will improve her status. It does explain a lot, honestly, and that’s what wounds are designed to do.

“Emotional wounds are more than just painful memories. Inside each wound is a seed of doubt. Is this somehow my fault? Am I to blame? This doubt blossoms, eroding one’s self-worth.”

If being rejected by the cool kids at her school wounded her, then there has to be a lie that was formed. The lie seems to be that she just wasn’t good enough, whatever it was. Whether it was her name or her looks. Ava just wasn’t good enough the way she was. And she became convinced that if the elites didn’t like it, then no one would and it’s because there’s something wrong with her.

It would explain her attention seeking. It would even explain some of her self-destructive habits. Deborah and Marcus are concerned about their own safety, but Ava wants to be liked at any cost. And if Ava is convinced there’s something wrong with her that she can’t change, she’s probably constantly looking for distractions from having to just sit with herself and just be. She’s just like Deborah like that. Afraid of silence and afraid of what will come up if she sits in silence.

Deborah rejecting her after the sacrifice Ava feels she made would hurt a lot. She chose a relationship over status and then still got rejected. Ava tried to be a good person (she admits the lying was not good though) and Deborah thought the worst of her anyway.

“And now you think I’m lying about my dad? Is that what you think of me?”

Maybe younger Ava tried to be herself. The sensitive person we know her to be and she got jackshit for it. And she learned the lesson that being a good person, trying to be kind just isn’t worth it because it won’t save you from pain. She made a globalized assumption based on a specific reaction she got from one group of people.

Okay, okay, I’m starting to come around to this idea. We do know Ava’s character wound and that was being rejected by the cool kids at her high school, she was rejected by her peers or at least this group of peers. The lie she formed was that if she proved her worth, proved how cool she is, she’ll finally be accepted.

Goddamit now I have to revise my essay lol. No, no this is a good thing. Like I said, I’m open to being wrong and in this case I think @trying-to-get-somewhere-real has a point. This is why I like being in fandom because you get diverse opinions.

I will not be revising that essay until after season 2 as I don’t have time, but I will do that eventually with this new idea in mind.

#hacks hbo #hbo hacks #hacks #hacks thoughts #ava daniels

7 notes · View notes

bullworthdrabbles · 3 years

Text

Women in Bullworth: Zoe Taylor

TW: discussions of sexual abuse, trauma, CSA, Mr. Burton's ped* bullshit, self-harm, and other not-great stuff.

This one is super long and full of hard stuff to talk about don't read if you are not in the right headspace.

Oh boy, this one is going to be one of the hardest to write for me because I love Zoe and I know so many who love her as well. Then, there’s also a lot of triggering content in her story that needs to be discussed but hits me very close to my chest. This will likely be very long and particularly scathing due to just how frustrating Zoe’s story (or lack thereof) is to me. As a victim of CSA, this particular post is going to be very hard for me to discuss and will take me a long time to fully articulate. I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to write this, but I needed many breaks and to rant to several friends in order not to type all of this in all caps and through various curses.

Before I really discuss the tropes and stereotypes like I usually do I need to discuss the fact that as I write this series I’m seeing the unfortunate pattern arise of Rockstar sloppily using sexual violence against women in their stories without doing their research, taking the time to consider the consequence that happening would have in someone’s life, and just what message they are sending with how they tackle these kinds of stories. Sexual abuse and teachers using their power to take advantage of teens and minors is an unfortunate reality that does happen in high schools. I can understand the idea of wanting to discuss this issue when your game is set in high school where these things can happen, but this type of story is horrific and to do it justice requires a sensitivity Rockstar simply didn’t deliver.

The bully wiki and the game itself states that Zoe was expelled from the school for reporting Mr. Burton's sexual harassment and based on the previous missions involving this disgusting man we know Zoe isn’t the only victim. Does he ever get held accountable? Does he face any sort of punishment despite Jimmy quite literally being a witness and having evidence thumbtacked to his wall of Mr. Burton's disgusting behavior that he made Jimmy also take part in? No, not really, he only gets “fired” at the end of the game, and by “fired” I mean you still see him walking around the school like nothing happened, still saying the same shit and having access to underage girls. If it was just the lack of accountability I could interpret this as Rockstar taking a very bleak but realistic look at the situation. I could maybe think they were trying to show the disgusting truth that victims are almost never believed even with a mountain of evidence stacked against the perpetrator. They could be showing that it takes so much traumatizing bullshit just to try to get justice only for nothing to happen.

However, they messed up this story almost comically which makes me think it was just a cheap way to get her out of the school because they clearly didn't think about how abuse and a violation of someone’s bodily autonomy would impact an actual victim. I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t simply flip a portapotty onto the person who harassed and violated my bodily autonomy. I'm not a generally violent person, but I do think about harming my abuser in incredibly violent ways because of how much bullshit he has put me through. Rockstar never has her dealing with the side-effects and real mental toll this kind of abuse does to a person unless it’s time to make it a funny mission. Turning real horrific trauma into nothing more than a motive for a prank. Then there’s the dialogue of her talking about liking older guys, which I want desperately to believe is Rockstar trying to insinuate that Zoe is coping with her trauma via hypersexuality. Hypersexuality is a common unhealthy coping mechanism for survivors of sexual trauma, they purposely seek out sexual encounters as a way of reclaiming power and bodily autonomy sexually. It can also be seen as self-harm behavior if the survivor is having lots of purposely unprotected sex. But Rockstar clearly didn’t do enough research into sexual trauma responses, much less the basic realities of surviving sexual trauma, so I highly doubt that they even considered this when writing these lines.

Unfortunately, Rockstar was just trying to make her a “not like other girls” stereotype, I bet you thought I wasn’t going to bring it up but sadly I am. Zoe is one of the better-written female characters, but that isn’t really saying much when all the other girls are just cardboard cheap conflict and plot devices. We actually know a lot more about her background than we do the other girls, does it really change that she doesn’t serve much of a plot-significant role? Nope. Does this change the fact that Rockstar once again used sexual trauma as a cheap mission fodder? Nope? Is she allowed to be more than just a health pack, quest giver, and reward? If you think her being the “girl the protagonist gets with at the end” counts maybe, but to me, nope.

This was hard for me to say as it was a hard pill for me to swallow, but literally, all of her traits that separate her from the other girls are just so they could make her a “Tom-boy” and “not like other girls” stereotype. They don’t make her a fully formed unique person where her past, experiences, and traumas actually impact who she is as a person. No, they needed a final love interest for their protagonist so they just took his character traits and story and made some similar dialogue as the dialogue for Gary ( we can all admit there was something going on before the betrayal between those two) then slapped it onto another ginger, now with boobs. The funny thing is she doesn’t even seem that interested with Jimmy until the very end, their whole relationship seems forced and rushed so Rockstar fucked even that up. They clearly had a lot of ideas they wanted to touch on but because of their own unwillingness to take the time to flesh her out instead, we got...well everything I said before.

I’ve said it a thousand times and I will say it again, a lot of these problems could have been avoided. Rockstar could have taken their female characters seriously, could have written them well if that was one of their focuses, but it wasn’t. I love this game and I love a lot of these characters but I feel that even if this game provided me years' worth of comfort and entertainment, it should still be called out for its issues and how it mishandles very serious and sensitive issues. I hope this series and my thoughts on these characters made you think about your own writing and works you see making similar mistakes. I can tell that none of these errors came from a place of malice, but deep ignorance and works that perpetuate said ignorance can send harmful messages to people. I hope by shedding light on this I may make you re-examine the messages you see surrounding female characters in media and their stereotypes. Thank you for reading my incredibly long rants.

#sa tw #csa tw #cce discussion #bully canis canem edit #canis canem edit #women of bullworth #bully anniversary edition #bully brain rot time #bullworth academy #bully scholarship edition #bully game #cce bully #bully cce #cas speaks

41 notes · View notes

nagito-kissmaeda · 3 years

Text

Arcade - Komaeda x Reader

ミ☆ Just a silly thing I wrote about an arcade employee being baffled while Komaeda clears out all the machines lol ミ☆ I’ve been feeling kind of down about my writing so i just wanted to do something fun. It’s not very good haha. I’m tired and i can’t write good asjfkakd

Night shift at the arcade is usually pretty quiet. Most people start leaving around dinner time and while there are usually still some hardcore gamers lurking around until the AM, most of them only come in on Friday’s or weekends. So the job is usually easy breezy, most nights you lean up on the counter and browse the internet on your phone until your shift ends.

Tonight though, you have been acutely watching as this guy moves from machine to machine. Absolutely clearing them out. You’ve never seen anything like it. Presently, you are crouched behind a claw machine filled with Hello Kitty plushies as this guy slips two bucks into the Big Bass Wheel cabinet. Your eyes drift over to the last cabinet he used, the Wizard of Oz coin pusher. It is empty , you have never seen that happen in the whole time you’ve worked here. You weren’t even sure it could happen.

The guy spins the wheel, it spins and spins and spins. Jackpot. Your eyes narrow, a jackpot isn’t too uncommon, it honestly isn’t even worth that many tickets, but then he nonchalantly slides in another two dollars and hits jackpot again . This is starting to get suspicious.

The machine is spitting out tickets now, so many tickets. Even the guy looks surprised, you are definitely surprised. Two jackpots is not worth that many tickets, but they just keep coming and coming. Machine fault? Must be. The guy looks almost resigned at this point, sighing unhappily as the tickets keep spewing out, like they’re wasting his time and not like this was a superhuman feat of luck. Then, the machine starts smoking.

“Shit!” You hiss, jumping up from your hiding place behind the claw machine and dashing over to the guy before anything catches on fire. You’ve caught him by surprise, he probably didn’t realise you were following him around, “out of the way, please!”

He ducks out of the way, pulling his armfuls worth of tickets along with him as you switch the arcade cabinet off at the wall. The machinery inside stops whirring and the smoke calms down. You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, you’ve never seen a machine fault this badly before, you were probably going to need to file an indecent report. What a pain.

“You okay?” You ask the guy. He is a lot taller up close, and the shock of messy white hair on his head only makes him seem taller. He sways like a palm tree in the breeze, clutching onto his massive wad of tickets for dear life.

“I’m sorry. I broke your machine.”

Oh...his voice is softer than you had expected it would be. The lights from a nearby Daytona cabinet are reflecting in his green eyes. You swallow, “You didn't break anything, machine fault, it happens sometimes.”

His eyes drift away from you and over to the cabinet, the smoke has stopped now, it doesn't look like there was too much damage, but he looks very upset about it anyway.

“Hey, seriously, dont worry about it.” You give him an awkward pat on his forearm, “The machines in here are really old, stuff like this happens all the time.”

“Oh...ah…” He bites his lip, “If you’re sure…”

You smile, “Yeah, don't even sweat it. You can keep the tickets by the way, once they're out of the machine it's a nightmare to get them back in again, so consider it an apology for almost setting you on fire.”

He laughs weakly, “Thank you.”

“Hey, uh…” You start, not so subtle eyeing his ticket collection. A decent chunk of it was from that Big Bass Wheel malfunction, an already exorbitant number was won legit. More than you had ever seen anyone win before, “are you a cabinet master?”

“A...what?”

“Like, you know all the sweet spots on the machines. Technically not cheating, but not entirely legal either.”

His eyes widen, “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” You shake your head at him, “You just won a lot of tickets is all. I’ve never seen someone win that many tickets.”

“I’m just really lucky. It’s all i'm good at, honestly.” He’s fiddling with the tickets in his arms, “My friend’s birthday is coming up and i'm trying to win her that Sailor Moon statue.”

It is true that there is a coveted Sailor Moon statue amongst the arcade’s prize collection. It’s huge, beautifully painted and according to your boss, incredibly rare . It’s been sitting there on the shelf for god knows how long, still tight in it’s shrinkwrap. Generally the most any player is able to afford is three or four sticky hands and a glow in the dark spider ring, but this guy is getting tantalisingly close.

You cross your arms and smirk at him, “You’re really that lucky?”

“Most of the time.”

“Okay then. You’re going to play Monster Drop next, it's the hardest cabinet we have.” You start heading over to the machine in the back of the arcade, it’s huge, you always forget how huge it is. The guy is diligently following behind you, shoulders hunched like he’s trying to make himself seem smaller. The pile of tickets in his arms rustling as he walks, “I’ve never seen anyone get a monster jackpot on this thing. Also my boss filled it with a bunch of different sized balls, so it's basically impossible to get a standard jackpot too, even after practicing at other arcades.”

“Hm. Is that really fair?”

You shrug a shoulder, “Nope. It’s big and loud, so lots of people want to play it and Boss doesn't want too many people winning. there's a catch though, raise the difficulty and you also raise the ticket payout. So if you manage to beat it, you'll be able to afford Sailor Moon.”

The current ticket payout is displayed in flashing red lights, 72,483 . With every failed attempt at hitting the monster jackpot the payout just gets higher and higher, those tantalising numbers draw in more kids hoping to be the one who gets lucky. A number that big means the cabinet has never been won, a smart arcade goer knows that a number like that means stay away.

“How do I play?” He asks, dropping his ticket collection on the ground at his feet.

“Ah, it’s deceptively simple.” You grab his hand and tug him over to the machine, gesturing up at where the balls drop down from, “You just need to press the button to let out a ball, and that’s literally it. The base of the machine spins around to make it harder to get the balls in. Monster jackpot is in the middle, so you would think a straight drop down would jackpot you every time but-”

He smirks wryly, “it’s never that easy is it?”

“Of course not! We’d never make any money if it was.”

He laughs to himself, pulling another coin out of his pocket and clinking it into the machine, “Ah, only one turn?”

You hold up a finger, “Just the one.”

He laughs again, “Brutal.”

“Very.” You take a step back to give him room to familiarise himself with the machine. Most people like to observe it from a few angles, take some time, watch at least one cycle before using up their one shot, “Good luck.”

He turns to you and smiles, “Thanks, but like i said, this is the one thing i'm good at.” He pushes the button, he isn't even looking at the machine, the rotating base hasn't even finished half a cycle. This guy is ballsy.

Despite his gumption, the ball falls a little short of the monster jackpot, “Aw, bad luck-” you start saying, but then it starts bouncing. Once off the base, three times off the sides, up high into the air and then plonk . Straight into the monster jackpot. All you can do is stare. Not only did he get the jackpot, he got it in a rigged machine while he wasn't even looking .

He laughs politely, the sound barely audible of the cabinet’s furious ringing bells and sirens signalling an impossible feat just happened here, everyone look! The tickets have started dispensing, with over 70k to print, it's going to be a long wait, “Jeez, that was scary. I almost thought my luck had run out there!”

He looks completely relaxed as he starts folding the fresh tickets into the neatest pile he can manage, “Are you a god or something?”

“Huh?” He says, blinking down at you, “That’s such a strange thing to ask me.”

“You just beat Monster Drop without looking . I’ve seen professional cabinet masters come in here and still lose after examining the machine for a good two hours!”

“Oh, no need to be impressed. I didn't actually do anything.” He smiles sadly and continues collecting his tickets, “It’s not really much of a talent, but i suppose it comes in handy sometimes.”

You clap a palm to your forehead, unable to believe what you are hearing, “You’re going to have enough tickets for the Sailor Moon statue and enough leftover for like...unlimited sticky hands.”

He taps a finger to his lips, “Oh! I would like some sticky hands.”

“How many?”

His brow creases as he considers it, “Three or four, i guess.”

“Three or-” you start laughing, “Buddy, i could pour the whole box into your bag if you wanted.”

“I don't think i need that many sticky hands, but it's very kind of you to offer.”

“We also have glow in the dark spider rings, and a robust selection of slinkies. Oh! If you really want to splurge we have a pair of slippers that resemble a character from Rick and Morty.”

He grimaces, “I would prefer the slinkies.”

You hear the arcade cabinet’s ticket dispenser finally come to a stop, and despite his good natured effort to collect the tickets in a neat pile, they are still all bunched up around his ankles. You are about to ask him another question when you quickly realise that the Monster Drop machine is now also smoking.

He sighs, “I should have known.”

You don't have time to look into that comment, you are too busy scrambling around to the back of the machine so you can turn the power off at the wall. Much like last time, you catch it before anything actually catches on fire. This has been a very eventful day.

“Hey, uh-” you start awkwardly, pulling yourself up from the ground and moving to help the guy contend with his ticket pile, “I finish in like half an hour...if you need help carrying your miscellaneous arcade prizes back to your car or whatever…”

He blinks at you as you both reach the prize counter and deposit the monstrous ticket collection onto the bench, “I should be okay on my own...but if you want to come I wouldn't mind, though I can’t guarantee I won’t set anything else on fire…” he chuckles nervously and you give him a quizzical look.

You do want to go with him, you aren't sure if it’s just a morbid curiosity about his luck with the arcade machines, or a fascination with the soft halo of white hair falling into his eyes, but you want to get to know him better, “I’ll come with you. You don’t have anywhere near enough fingers for all the glow in the dark spider rings I’m about to give you.” You say as you round the counter and start organising his tickets into more manageable piles.

He smiles, “that does sound like a good idea. I don’t want to drop any of my brand new sticky hands, after all.” He leans forward on the counter, blinking up at you. He’s got really pretty eyelashes, “I’m Nagito Komaeda, in case you were wondering.”

You laugh, “Nice to meet you, Nagito. Now give me 20 minutes to count all your damn tickets.”

#danganronpa #komaeda nagito #komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #danganronpa x reader #my writing #asjhfjdl i hate everything i write #its literally garbage lol

124 notes · View notes

icequeenbae · 3 years

Text

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 4 [fin] | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~2.1k (Chapter 4)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: Yaaay, the finale is here! ✨ Hope you won’t be disappointed [I know it’ll be something you don’t expect, but the end can also be a beginning, right?] Please let me know what you think, I had fun talking to you about the previous chapters!! And thank you for following this story all the way through. Looove 🖤🖤🖤

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove @usernameloaa @geniusloey

Chapter 4. The end of you and I [Finale]

Stepping out of the room the next morning, you felt like you were walking to the gallows. In a way, that would’ve been less devastating than the reality. The anticipation, or rather a bad feeling, settled in your gut from the moment you opened your eyes and made you feel sick to your stomach.

After declining an offering of food, you were escorted downstairs to a large space, which was essentially a parking lot, cars all around. The premises were dimly lit – some of the lights simply went out, some were flickering as if they were about to. It was mostly dull grey concrete, a few wide columns around the area, just like any underground parking would look. There were still quite a few vehicles left – EXO liked to have a good variety. Especially Baek- No, you didn’t want to go there.

If you were completely honest, it wasn’t like you hadn’t been in this place before. You’d spent quite some time down here when Baekhyun was trying to teach you a few car tricks for fun. Despite your unwillingness to recall any of that, you could almost hear his obnoxious laughter whenever you failed to disable the alarm or accidentally set it off and panicked. Yet now this place became wicked in your eyes due to the new context. Worse than any dungeon in this abandoned building.

Sat on a lonely chair, you had your wrists bound and scotch tape put over your mouth.

‘This is for your own good,’ Baëkhyun muttered as he placed it on you. ‘Just keep quiet and let it play out.’

Huffing, you looked away. Eyes wandering around, you took notice of the absence of windows in the area. They probably chose the most isolated place in the building, luring the opponent in here. Likely to block the exits as soon as they arrive.

You exhaled through your nose, wishing that the boys just didn’t show up. Not really expecting Baëkhyun to protect you in this case, you only hoped for Baekhyun to stay away and be safe. One thing you were sure of, was that your life was not worth that many others.

As you contemplated this scenario, a drop of water fell in your lap. Then another one.

You looked at the droplets in confusion. Then up – locating a spot on the ceiling that was leaking. The intensity increased with every drop, and when you lowered your gaze, you saw the water level rise quickly, creeping at the level of your ankles. This didn’t look like it could be caused by any leakage you could think of. It was like there was an invisible circle around you, that water couldn’t cross. Like you were sitting in a glass tube.

Breath hitching in panic, you fidgeted in your seat, trying to get out of the rapidly growing pool of liquid. You whimpered, drawing Baëkhyun’s attention, and as he saw your current state, he immediately turned to the leader.

‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘The sun is almost up. I don’t see a sign of our friends arriving,’ he shrugged, tapping at his watch.

‘Stop it,’ Baëkhyun snapped, hearing you squeak as the liquid reached your knees, rising above the ground unnaturally.

Were they going to drown you?

You tugged at your restraints in a poor attempt to free yourself, and Baëkhyun turned around, walking towards you decisively.

Until Chën stepped in front of him.

‘Get out of my face,’ Baëkhyun snarled, but his opponent only laughed.

‘Keep walking. If you want me to electrocute her before you’re done.’

A faint purple lightning bolt appeared around his right fist, and Baëkhyun’s eyes darkened further, sparks of red swirling in his orbs as he gathered his power in his hands. But the fight did not break out, as Sehūn walked between them nonchalantly, shoving them away from each other.

‘They’re here,’ he announced, taking his spot next to Suhø.

The water stopped climbing up, freezing at the level of your collarbones. It pressed down on you unpleasantly, holding you still, but it also allowed you to slowly start slipping your wrist out of the restraint. Baëkhyun left it a little loose, so taking it off was feasible, now that it was wet.

A rumble sounded from behind the farther wall where the entrance was, and a car came in, tires screeching. The yellow sports vehicle took a spot in the middle of the room, drifting and rotating a perfect 90 degrees. Then a van appeared, doing pretty much the same right behind it. The door of the latter flew open, and a blonde head appeared. You swallowed a lump in your throat. He was here, they were here. It was your fault.

Baekhyun’s eyes landed on you, and he examined your state, before eyeing the crowd in front of him and turning to Suhø.

‘Let her go. I’m here to trade myself in for her.’

Your own eyes went wide. Trade himself in? No, no, you could not allow this!

‘Mhm!’ You shook your head fiercely, trying to sound protesting with your mouth covered.

He met your desperate gaze, and his eyes looked so… remorseful, that you froze in place. Turning away, he continued.

‘I’ll surrender to you, but you have to let her go first.’

Suhø hummed, nodding seemingly in contemplation of this suggestion.

‘You know what, I have a better idea. Why don’t you all surrender, and then she walks free?’

He suddenly chuckled, looking Baekhyun in the eye. ‘Or she doesn’t.’

It was a split second later when you finally freed your wrists and ripped the tape off, ready to scream… But the sound didn’t come. It happened faster than you could register – you were underwater. Fully submerged now.

Struggling to float in the mass of liquid, you saw people around start moving. Baekhyun threw a ball of light in Suhø’s direction, presumably missing him since you were still drowning.

A shadow appeared out of thin air behind Baekhyun and you screamed desperately, losing oxygen and trying to rip yourself out of the suffocating pool of water. He reacted instantly to the ambush, as if he was waiting for it, and used his power to defend. On the other side, Baëkhyun blasted Chën in the back, to find his way to you, but got held up by Kāi, appearing now in his way. Your lungs were burning. Realizing that no one would make it to you on time, you lowered your eyes in resignation.

And then you saw it.

A small, maybe the size of an orange, bubble appeared at your feet and made its way up. It reached your face, and you took an incredulous breath. Another one appeared.

‘Sehun,’ you thought, breathing in and out as the bubbles reached your face.

As you were struggling to ventilate underwater, the whole battle was happening on the outside. There was fire, and blood, and flashes of red and white light…

You almost got startled when the water around you subsided, releasing you from its hold. Falling to your knees, you finally breathed in fully and looked around in confusion, noticing Junmyeon closing distance.

But before he reached you, a wall of fire appeared. Turning your head, you saw Baëkhyun, about to hoist you up, when he got an electric shock. Looking over his shoulder, you watched Chën approach.

‘B- Baëk-’ You stuttered as an arrow hit Chën in the side, making him slump to the ground from the impact and proving that Sehun was still watching over you.

‘Run to their van. Along that wall, behind the cars. I’ll give you cover fire as you go, okay? I got you,’ Baëkhyun instructed, tugging you up and shoving you forward. ‘Go!’

You ran towards the wall to your right, feet barely able to move after all you’d just gone through. But your instincts kicked in, giving you the adrenaline high you needed to function. Hitting the wall hands first to change direction, you then ran along the concrete surface, not looking back, only hearing blasts, and swearing, and fighting…

You almost made it to the van.

But the water in your sneakers made you slip as you jumped out of your cover to relocate to the safer spot, falling over and grabbing at your leg. Not thinking more than a moment about the pain, you got on all fours and began crawling towards safety.

‘Y/N, no!’ Baekhyun shouted, and you turned around, seeing lightning paint the room purple for a second before someone shielded you from its reach.

And then he fell on his knees.

Black leather and silvery white head.

‘B- Baëkhyun?’ You muttered as he pressed his hands to his eyes, thick streaks of blood instantly painting his long fingers red.

You gasped in horror, but before you could say a word, someone grabbed you by the waist and dragged you around the car you were hiding behind less than a minute ago.

‘Are you okay?’ Baekhyun looked at you, as he pressed his palms to your body, trying to assess your injuries hastily. ‘We need to retreat quickly, can you walk? Hold onto my shoulder, okay?’

You barely registered what he was saying, the horrible picture from seconds ago still imprinted in your vision.

‘Wait,’ you shook your head, getting up. ‘I need to help him!’

‘What? Y/N!’ You heard Baekhyun call out your name, trying to catch you by the wrist as you ran out into the ongoing fight, limping noticeably.

The silver light appeared, covering you as you reached your target.

‘Baëkhyun!’ You grabbed him by the shoulders. ‘Did it hit your eyes?’

He turned to you, eyes narrow as if his vision was blurry, blood running down his entire face. Your hand trembled as he grabbed onto it.

‘What the fuck are you doing back here?’ He snarled.

‘Come on!’ You urged him to circle the closest vehicle, as Baekhyun still blasted the other side of the parking lot with his light.

‘Leave me here and run, while they have the upper hand. This won’t last much longer,’ Baëkhyun gritted.

‘No,’ you stubbornly gripped his leather jacket.

‘Y/N!’ He raised his voice.

You stared at each other intensely for no longer than a second, and then you took a quick breath and leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in an abrupt kiss. Tasting metallic and salty from his blood and your tears, it was the most frenetic one in your life. As you broke it, he looked at you silently, eyes dark blue.

‘The next parked car is the one Baek used to teach me how to break in. It’s unlocked, so if you can make it inside, you’ll be able to drive off instantly. We’ll distract them, and you show us the other way out of here, okay?’

He slowly nodded, and you held his stare for another second.

‘Don’t die,’ you told him, getting up as Baekhyun appeared again and took your hand impatiently to finally get you into the van.

‘Go, go, go!’ He yelled at Chanyeol, who grabbed the wheel.

The tires screeched, and a black sports car drove off under your noses.

‘Yeollie, follow him! Baëkhyun knows the other way out,’ you shouted, catching a confused look from the driver, as well as others. ‘Trust me, okay? The one you came through is disabled in some way already.’

He nodded quickly, no time to hesitate, and went after the black car.

Jongin appeared in the crowded van, as an explosion sounded from behind.

‘That should hold them up a sec,’ he sneered.

‘Good job,’ Junmyeon praised, looking in the rear-view mirror, as the van sped up, making it out of the building right behind Baëkhyun.

He then fell back, diverting the attention of the cars that followed you, and driving in a different direction to lead them away. You were glued to the window, watching him being chased by another automobile, and wishing that he made it out safely. If he could manage that – with the horrific injury to his eyes, no less… It would be nothing short of a miracle.

The boys around you shouted something about the chase, and that they only needed to take a couple of turns to get to the parking lot where their other vehicles were waiting, so that they could individually shake the clones off their tails...

But you paid no attention to all the tactics. The world around you disappeared, narrowing down to just that one car, fading into the distance. Your bloodied hand left a red trace on the glass you were looking through.

‘Don’t die,’ you prayed, still tasting his blood on your lips as you watched the black vehicle disappear on the horizon. ‘Don’t you dare die, Baëkhyun.’

Masterlist

A/N: This is it! Thank you for reading this entire story <3 Probably not the ending you wanted, my beta was ready to throw hands too lol But it’s a pretty logical conclusion to this scenario, isn’t it? The OC is safe and reunited with Baekhyun... In any case, I hope you enjoyed this little journey and are willing to share your thoughts with me 💌

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #exowritersnet #byun baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfiction #icequeenbae fics #Desert Flower #baekbaёk #exo smut #x exo #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun

129 notes · View notes

thevindicativevordan · 3 years

Note

Having seen your post on several different characters populating the Supermythos, particularly Clark's workmates, namely Lois, his girlfriend, and Jimmy, his pal, I wanted to ask what are your thoughts and takes on Perry White, the Daily Planet's editor-in-chief, because he isn't given much focus compared to other characters like again, Lois, Jimmy, and recently Cat, in the CW Supergirl show, and when he is, he's given curious roles such as Clark and Lois father figure, literally or figuratively

That's pretty much all he is. Perry is the father of the Daily Planet cast in much the same way as Clark typically gets the "dad" role on the Justice League. It's his job to keep everyone on task and at their best despite the insanity of life in Metropolis.

Cantankerous, foul-tempered, cynical, but also principled, brave, and compassionate. Lois and him having a strong bond makes all the sense in the world, they are very much the same person personality-wise, which is also why they butt heads all the time. Perry for her is one way she could end up, a highly successful journalist who ended up running one of the highest profile news sources, but without any real personal life to speak of. The Daily Planet is Perry's one true love, the only woman or child he is truly devoted to, and that she's seemingly on the verge of dying because the Internet has killed print horrifies him. Has he completely wasted his life caring for this entity that's poised to get bought out and ripped to shreds? Was it all for nothing, does anyone really care about ethics in journalism anymore? That's the existential dread Perry struggles with, feeling like a dinosaur in an a job field where the asteroid has already hit.

Yes they have absolutely swiped some traits from that other comic company's newspaper editor-in-chief who has a red and blue superhero on the payroll, J. J. Jameson. However Perry has a greater commitment to the truth than Jameson ever has, and is far more even-handed and beloved by his underlings than Jameson ever was. Perry is sort of a throwback character to the idea of the boss who cares, who grumbles and yells but also makes sure everyone gets their paychecks. If he has to take a paycut to make sure everyone working for him gets what they're owed, he'll do it without a word. If one of his workers is in trouble and needs help, he'll get involved and make sure they're ok.

Sort of a cliché but one that I think is still worth keeping around. The Man of Yesterday is what Perry is, and examining the tropes he embodies as a way to compare and contrast with Clark and Lois can still offer some good storytelling. Like the idea of Clark/Superman's arrival to Metropolis indirectly having the impact of softening his edges and letting more of his compassionate side show. With Lois I think him being her mentor/father figure is totally fine, God knows Sam wasn't encouraging towards her life choices. Seeing that Lois has incredible potential and dedication and taking it upon himself to nurture her talent makes complete sense to me. Because of the close bond between the two, Perry is willing to share information about Metropolis' secrets, individuals, and organizations with Lois that he's acquired over a lifetime that he wouldn't share with anyone else.

Although for Clark I don't think Perry being a father figure works as well. Clark already has two dads, he doesn't need a third. When it comes to Clark's relationship with Perry, I think the way to handle it is that Perry is The Boss to Clark. He busts Clark's balls when Clark slips up, gives him tough assignments that need doing, and constantly demands and expects more from him. Two of them respect each other and Perry can tell that there's more to Clark than meets the eye, but they don't have a close personal relationship. Were Clark to need his help however, Perry would give it, but not because it's Clark personally. Merely because Clark is one his employees and he looks out for the well-being of the people under him without distinction (except for Lois who everyone knows is the Golden Girl). Know that flies in the face of Perry being Jon's godfather, but 1. I prefer Jimmy getting that role and 2. I say Lois is the one who picks Perry as the godfather if it must be him.

Now for some quick thoughts on the rest of the Daily Planet cast!

Cat Grant

Love her as Lois' big rival and competitor in terms of how they operate as journalists. Lois is like Perry while Cat represents the "New Media". Whatever will capture eyeballs is what she's willing to print and she doesn't care if it ends up being fake. Cat is ruthless and cynical but not heartless, there are lines she won't cross and she doesn't set out to destroy anyone's life. Sometimes though it just happens as a result of the demands that come with operating a modern 24/7 news source. Lois and Cat should frequently be at each others throats over Cat's "flexibility" in terms of what she calls news. Lois thinks Cat gives the Planet a bad name, but also worries that Cat's methods are the only way the Daily Planet can survive. Cat is pissed at what she sees as Lois getting preferential treatment from Perry despite Cat being as just a big a "name", but also struggles with guilt over the damage some of her articles/blogs have caused.

Cat leaving the Planet to go found CatCo is my preferred "endgame" for her. I want her running CatCo and Lois taking over the Planet from Perry to be part of this big shift in status quo that DC is currently exploring. Can Lois and the Planet compete with the reporting methods of CatCo? How long can Jimmy keep the Planet afloat with Luthor's money before Lex either finds a way out of the "deal" or CatCo launches a hostile takeover of the Planet? Cat would think she's doing her old co-workers a favor, integrating them into her media empire would help secure their jobs, but the Planet staff would have much more mixed feelings. Flip side of that is Cat relishes the idea of Lois having to work for her while Lois would rather walk into the Phantom Zone than ever submit to Cat being in charge. So the rivalry is still very personal between the two.

Steve Lombard

Steve is an asshole and that's fantastic. He's the right-wing jock who mentally has never left high school. Playing pranks on Clark and Ron, Steve keeps his job because he's friends with higher-ups in all the major sports organization and can get the inside scoop. As a storytelling vehicle, I'd love a one-off issue where Steve and Clark have a prank war where Clark shows he still has that Silver Age Superdickery streak in him. Also think Steve is a useful storytelling tool in that while he's an ass, there should be some depth to him buried deep down. When his co-workers need him Steve will help, thus helping to validate Clark's belief in the inner goodness of people who seem to lack it at first sight.

If I had to come up with a way to show Steve's more positive traits, I'd have him be a big friend to animals. Strays, abused former pets, animals missing limbs or sick with terminal diseases, Steve runs an animal shelter where he cares for and helps rehabilitate them. Something like that would explain why his co-workers tolerate him, they know there is a heart buried under all that bragging.

Ron Troupe

Rather like Ron as the big foil for Steve in terms of being a much kinder guy with left-wing views. Ron is the guy who writes about social issues, something that he has conflicting feelings about. Work he does is important but is he being pigeonholed because of his race? Can he really reach his full potential by staying in that niche? Despite his soft-spoken nature, he can absolutely cut you to shreds with his writing, and even with his voice if you poke him the way Steve loves to.

Personally I think the way to make him a much more interesting character is to have him share Clark's rural background. Instead of Kansas he came from a small rural town in the South, and that dramatically impacted the way he feels about "small towns". He does not share Clark's nostalgia for his rural roots and if anything he's very bitter about the poverty and racism he experienced growing up. This makes pairing the two of them up far more interesting because now Ron brings a different perspective to Clark's background and heritage. No Rockwellian home for Ron, which is something that causes Clark to reflect on the nature of America and on himself.

The Daily Planet cast is really underrated and underused (like pretty much everything else in Superman's world). None of them except Lois have really gotten much love since the Triangle Era ended and that's a shame. Rucka had a Black Label pitch starring the Daily Planet cast that ended up providing the seeds for his Lois Lane book. Would still like to read that given I felt his Lois book went off the rails in the second half, and Mike Perkins has said both he and Rucka are still interested. At least My Adventures With Superman seems poised to utilize the cast given it's premise of being an action office romcom. Praying that show gets people interested in the Daily Planet again.

#superman #lois lane #perry white #cat grant #steve lombard #ron troupe #daily planet

17 notes · View notes