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burntoutdaydreamer · 5 months

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To Write Better Antagonists, Have Them Embody the Protagonist's Struggles

(Spoilers for The Devil Wears Prada, Avatar the Last Airbender, Kung Fu Panda 2, and The Hunger Games triology).

Writing antagonists and villains can be hard, especially if you don't know how to do so.

I think a lot of writers' first impulse is to start off with a placeholder antagonist, only to find that this character ends up falling flat. They finish their story only for readers to find the antagonist is not scary or threatening at all.

Often the default reaction to this is to focus on making the antagonist meaner, badder, or scarier in whatever way they can- or alternatively they introduce a Tragic Backstory to make them seem broken and sympathetic. Often, this ends up having the exact opposite effect. Instead of a compelling and genuinely terrifying villain, the writer ends up with a Big Bad Edge Lord who the reader just straight up does not care about, or actively rolls their eyes at (I'm looking at you, Marvel).

What makes an antagonist or villain intimidating is not the sheer power they hold, but the personal or existential threat they pose to the protagonist. Meaning, their strength as a character comes from how they tie into the themes of the story.

To show what I mean, here's four examples of the thematic roles an antagonist can serve:

1. A Dark Reflection of the Protagonist

The Devil Wears Prada

Miranda Priestly is initially presented as a terrible boss- which she is- but as the movie goes on, we get to see her in a new light. We see her as an bonafide expert in her field, and a professional woman who’s incredible at what she does. We even begin to see her personal struggles behind the scenes, where it’s clear her success has come at a huge personal cost. Her marriages fall apart, she spends every waking moment working, and because she’s a woman in the corporate world, people are constantly trying to tear her down.

The climax of the movie, and the moment that leaves the viewer most disturbed, does not feature Miranda abusing Andy worse than ever before, but praising her. Specifically, she praises her by saying “I see a great deal of myself in you.” Here, we realize that, like Miranda, Andy has put her job and her career before everything else that she cares about, and has been slowly sacrificing everything about herself just to keep it. While Andy's actions are still a far cry from Miranda's sadistic and abusive managerial style, it's similar enough to recognize that if she continues down her path, she will likely end up turning into Miranda.

In the movie's resolution, Andy does not defeat Miranda by impressing her or proving her wrong (she already did that around the half way mark). Instead, she rejects the values and ideals that her toxic workplace has been forcing on her, and chooses to leave it all behind.

2. An Obstacle to the Protagonist's Ideals

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Fire Lord Ozai is a Big Bad Baddie without much depth or redemptive qualities. Normally this makes for a bad antagonist (and it's probably the reason Ozai has very little screen time compared to his children), but in Avatar: The Last Airbender, it works.

Why?

Because his very existence is a threat to Aang's values of nonviolence and forgiveness.

Fire Lord Ozai cannot be reasoned with. He plans to conquer and burn down the world, and for most of the story, it seems that the only way to stop him is to kill him, which goes against everything Aang stands for. Whether or not Aang could beat the Fire Lord was never really in question, at least for any adults watching the show. The real tension of the final season came from whether Aang could defeat the Fire Lord without sacrificing the ideals he inherited from the nomads; i.e. whether he could fulfill the role of the Avatar while remaining true to himself and his culture.

In the end, he manages to find a way: he defeats the Fire Lord not by killing him, but by stripping him of his powers.

3. A Symbol of the Protagonist's Inner Struggle

Kung Fu Panda 2

Kung Fu Panda 2 is about Po's quest for inner peace, and the villain, Lord Shen, symbolizes everything that's standing in his way.

Po and Lord Shen have very different stories that share one thing in common: they both cannot let go of the past. Lord Shen is obsessed with proving his parents wrong and getting vengeance by conquering all of China. Po is struggling to come to terms with the fact that he is adopted and is desperate to figure out who he is and why he ended up left in a box of radishes as a baby.

Lord Shen symbolizes Po's inner struggle in two main ways: one, he was the source of the tragedy that separated him from his parents, and two, he reinforces Po's negative assumptions about himself. When Po realizes that Lord Shen knows about his past and confronts him, Lord Shen immediately tells Po exactly what he's afraid of hearing: that his parents abandoned him because they didn't love him. Po and the Furious Five struggle to beat Shen not because he's powerful, but because Po can't let go of the past, and this causes him to repeatedly freeze up in battle, which Shen uses to his advantage.

Po overcomes Shen when he does the one thing Shen is incapable of: he lets go of the past and finds inner peace. Po comes to terms with his tragic past and recognizes that it does not define him, while Shen holds on to his obsession of defying his fate, which ultimately leads to his downfall.

4. A Representative of a Harsh Reality or a Bigger System

The Hunger Games

We don't really see President Snow do all that much on his own. Most of the direct conflict that Katniss faces is not against him, but against his underlings and the larger Capitol government. The few interactions we see between her and President Snow are mainly the two of them talking, and this is where we see the kind of threat he poses.

President Snow never lies to Katniss, not even once, and this is the true genius behind his character. He doesn't have to lie to or deceive Katniss, because the truth is enough to keep her complicit.

Katniss knows that fighting Snow and the Capital will lead to total war and destruction- the kind where there are survivors, but no winners. Snow tells her to imagine thousands upon thousands of her people dead, and that's exactly what happens. The entirety of District 12 gets bombed to ashes, Peeta gets brainwashed and turned into a human weapon, and her sister Prim, the very person she set out to protect at the beginning of the story, dies just before the Capitol's surrender. The districts won, but at a devastating cost.

Even after President Snow is captured and put up for execution, he continues to hurt Katniss by telling her the truth. He tells her that the bombs that killed her sister Prim were not sent by him, but by the people on her side. He brings to her attention that the rebellion she's been fighting for might just implement a regime just as oppressive and brutal as the one they overthrew and he's right.

In the end, Katniss is not the one to kill President Snow. She passes up her one chance to kill him to take down President Coin instead.

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david-talks-sw · 7 months

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So that whole interaction between Ahsoka and Huyang, where they talk about Sabine's choice to help the enemy find Thrawn (in hopes that she can then find Ezra) is clearly meant to be subtext for what happened with Anakin.

I mean change the pronoun from "she/her" to "he/him", tweak some of the names and...

... it's just blatant.

The parallels were already clear in the previous episode, as pointed out in this post here, and it still holds true:

Sabine's struggle with attachment mirrors Anakin's.

We know Filoni's whole stance on why Anakin fell to the Dark Side: he'll usually acknowledge that Anakin was ruled by his attachments, got possessive of Padmé, but then adds:

"HOWEVER is loving that way really that bad?"

"HOWEVER he never stood a chance because Qui-Gon wasn't there to teach him properly and be the father Anakin needed."

I've already gone into why both these statements don't track with Lucas' intended narrative here and here... but I wanna touch on this notion that "Anakin wasn't trained enough to make a better choice."

He was.

You know how we know? Because we saw him overcome his attachments before.

We saw him explain the theory of the non-attachment rule, before.

In fact, wee saw him pass down a lot of the Jedi lessons, in The Clone Wars, including being disciplined, following orders and not acting impulsively.

The issue is that - while Anakin knows the theory, even has a few minor successes applying it - he never builds the self-discipline needed to master it because... deep down... he doesn't want to.

This is partially because you got Palpatine telling him he doesn't need to, molding him into an arrogant, power-craving person... but the fact remains that Anakin made the choice himself.

Which Filoni acknowledges, sure... but not quite. The difference between his thesis and George Lucas' is that the latter picks a stance and defends it.

"He started out as a very loving and compassionate person. And as he progressed, it was his inability to control his temper, his inability to let go of things, and his quest for power that were his undoing." - George Lucas, E! Behind the Scenes - ROTS, 2005

Anakin fell because he was greedy, just like any one of us can be.

Cool. Filoni, on the other hand, doesn't seem to land anywhere.

He dances around the issue (as can be seen by the debate between Ahsoka and Huyang, with no clear winner) and merely questions whether it's as simple as that.

Clearly he wants to justify Anakin's actions to some degree... but y'know, the narrative considers those actions so reprehensible that Anakin gets friggin' burned alive for it.

"I felt it was important that we actually see that happen so that we could see the consequences of these bad things that he did. […] He forces his friends to turn against him. Which is heartbreaking." - George Lucas, “The Chosen One” Featurette, 2005

Because Anakin's actions are not meant to be justified.

It's easy to see why Filoni likes Anakin. One of the earliest tasks he had when writing The Clone Wars was humanizing a character whose sole functional purpose was to carry out a narrative about how:

"Without self-discipline, greed [can] force a character off the path to freedom." - Micael Hearn, The Cinema of George Lucas, 2005

And Anakin is a very sympathetic character.

His flaws are flaws that we all carry.

Q: Is it fair to assess Anakin is kind of cursed by his own goodness/good qualities? "I wouldn't say that’s true. He’s cursed by the same flaws, and issues that he has to overcome, that all humans are cursed with. There's a lot going on there. [...] The whole point is—and the reason I started the story where I did—is that Anakin is a normal, good kid. And how does somebody who is normal and good turn bad? What are the qualities, what is it that we all have within us that will turn us bad?" - George Lucas, Star Wars Insider #52, 2000

But narratively, Anakin is selfish.

He doesn't want to save Padmé's life, he wants to save himself from the pain of losing Padmé.

And while you're supposed to sympathize with him, you're not meant to agree with him. He's Darth Vader, the space nazi. He messes up and consequentially "leaves the Force in darkness" for 20 years, instead of ushering it towards the light in the chancellor's office, when he has the chance.

So to shift the blame and say that...

HOWEVER, Anakin didn't have the proper support system or training to make a better choice.

... when the whole point of the narrative is about taking personal responsibility and being selfless instead of selfish... well, it is missing that point.

He did know better. He just didn't want to choose better, so he convinced himself he wasn't able to.

#anakin skywalker #george lucas #dave filoni #ahsoka show #ahsoka series #ahsoka #ahsoka spoilers #huyang #sabine wren

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panlight · 2 months

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I know I've mentioned this before, but sometimes I think it's a blessing that SM hadn't really read/watched much Vampire Stuff before she wrote Twilight.

Don't get me wrong--there are definitely times where I'm very frustrated by this, where she misses a key moment that someone more genre savvy would have taken full advantage of. The main character being turned into a vampire in such a clinical way removes so much of the intimacy and eroticism of vampire lit, for example. Or the way she didn't give her vampires any weaknesses and how that makes it so much harder to raise the stakes and put them in any real danger. Or to feel bad for their cursed existence because like . . . it actually seems not that bad without all the weaknesses and limitations.

But It's a blessing in a way because it allowed her to come up with characters like Emmett, Esme, and Carlisle. MOST of the sympathetic, 'good' vampires in fiction end up being like Edward. This brooding vampire who hates what he is and probably has some kind of Dark Past (Edward's vigilante era in his own opinion) but wants to be good but oh, the endless midnights! And obviously that's a compelling story; these tropes are used so often because people ENJOY them.

But then you have Emmett, who is a 'good' vampire too and just . . . doesn't care. He's nice. He'll protect you. But he's also killed people. Whoops. Probably felt bad about it at the time. Probably still feels a little bad if he thinks about it now. But he's not brooding about it. He's generally pretty happy and fun and doesn't take things too seriously. Normally this would be a 'bad' vampire or at least morally gray vampire but as written by SM, he's clearly intended to be a good guy. Just one of the bros who happens to be a vampire.

Then there's Carlisle, who had every reason to be the brooding vampire who hates himself (was actively hunting vampires when he was turned! son of a pastor! alone for centuries!) but instead he . . . just got on with it. Also I think his success with vegetarianism is in itself kind of unusual and refreshing for the genre. I know lots of people think he'd be more interesting if he had killed people but as someone who read Twilight during a marathon read of other vampire fiction the fact that he HADN'T was actually what made him interesting to me. It was bizarrely . . . hopeful? It's the kind of thing that someone actually vampire genre savvy probably wouldn't have done.

Likewise Esme just being this white suburban midwestern vampire mom and playing it 100% straight. This isn't some commentary on how vampirism is a shallow perversion of motherhood or whatever, Esme IS the mom. She does mom things. It's taken seriously. She's not some sinister Other Mother, she is genuinely loving and gentle and motherly and again, I feel like someone genre savvy wouldn't have played it that way.

Anyway, yes sometimes I long for more typical vampire stuff in Twilight, but sometimes the lack of genre knowledge worked out in its favor.

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adnauseum11 · 3 months

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Listening Post (John Price x Reader)

John goes M.I.A, and all is not as it seems at first.

900 words

CW: swearing

feedback welcome!

You’re starting to get worried. It’s out of character for John to ignore you. Even when he was still on active duty, he would tell you if he was going to be in the field. He’d never compromise himself with any details but he’d at least let you know he was away. And he always let you know when he was back on grid, his simple ‘back here’ text enough to reassure you that he had made it home once again. You stand in your kitchen, gnawing a thumbnail and obsessively looking at your phone.

He wasn’t in the field any more, and he shouldn't be away, you had plans to do Trivia Thursday night this week at the pub. He would have told you if he had left town. If you weren’t dating the wretched man, you would send him a text about being a miserable bastard and try him again the next day to see if his mood had improved.

You scroll back in your texts, checking the timestamps. He’s never let a text go unanswered all day before. What kind of trouble could an ex-SAS Captain possibly get in to? He can take care of himself. Surely, he’s fine. He’s been in his share of fights. If the cops had picked him up for something, you would have got wind of it, you’re certain. You’re trying to convince yourself to remain calm, annoyingly something that’s normally John’s job between the two of you.

You realize you’re going to spend the evening standing in the kitchen, agonizing in silence, so you resolve to sort the situation out one way or another. You pull on your jacket, thumbing through your phone to a ride share app. You find yourself in front of John’s flat less than 20 minutes later. His car is there, and instead of making you feel better you get a sinking sensation in your stomach. At least if he was away, you could tell yourself he was busy. Now it looks like he’s just dodging you.

You let yourself in using the key he gave you years ago, knocking gently and calling for him. Nothing. No signs of life in the kitchen or living room. His neat flat looks immaculate. You’re heading down the hall when you hear low groaning. A flame of anger licks at your belly and you have to keep yourself from stomping the rest of the way down the hall.

If he’s cheating on you before you’ve even had sex, you’re going to string him up by his balls. If you have to pay to find someone who knows how to do that, you will. It will be worth it –

By the time you clear the doorway, you’ve convinced yourself of what you’re going to find. Even brace for it, your face screwed up into a wince. So, when it’s just John, sweating buckets and groaning in pain in the middle of his bed it takes you a full ten seconds to reboot your brain.

“What’s wrong?” You’re leaning over him, not bothering with pleasantries or admonishments now, running your hands over his face and chest with anxious movements. You’re instinctively looking for a wound of some sort before you can process your own actions. He squints at you, grabbing your hands and covering his eyes with your palms, curling towards you.

“My fucking head. Holy shit.” His voice is like gravel, and you wonder how long he’s been like this if he’s openly admitting to what ails him. You’re crawling into the bed, moving on autopilot despite never having seen him like this. John’s misery does not like company, thanks very much. But it seems those old rules of engagement for you both are shifting. You’re pillowing his head on your thighs, curling over him protectively and making sympathetic noises softly. As relieved as you are he’s not up to anything nefarious, guilt at it being a thought at all is hot on its heels.

“A migraine?”

He confirms with the tiniest tilt of his head, pressing his cheek into your thigh while you gently cup his forehead. He’s burning hot, sweaty to the touch. You’re stroking a palm over his hair slowly, easing him off your lap so you can run around his flat, gathering anything you can think of that might help - ice water in a bowl with a facecloth, a bottle of water, fruit from the bowl in his kitchen. He’s groaning again by the time you get back and arrange everything on his bedside table.

You spend the rest of the night playing nurse, finally able to get more information out of the miserable man on what might make him feel better. The cool cloth helps, as does the darkness and gently stroking his scalp. You’re able to get him to lightly doze after a few hours of concentrated efforts. Grateful for the small stash of clothes and essentials John insisted you bring over a few days prior, you keep one eye on your sleeping patient while you change into pajamas. The thought of leaving him alone like this makes your stomach drop and your skin crawl, as does the slow realization he’s likely been dealing with these episodes alone for some time.

You manage to crawl back into bed without disturbing him, resuming your slow stroking passes over his scalp. Your insides are wobbling dangerously, like you might fall into a heaving cry at any moment. You’re supremely grateful when exhaustion takes over, silencing any and all thoughts.

Next Chapter

#fanfic #john price x f!reader #john price x reader #call of duty #captain john price #john price cod #john price #friends to lovers

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dawn-moths · 27 days

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Tomura x Reader

word count: 1,300+

(You tend to Tomura’s dry, cracked hands and itchy skin while the two of you watch a movie.)

disclaimer/content warning: no warnings apply! just a lil sfw drabble in honor of tomura’s birthday. also reader has a technology/hacking quirk. enjoy!

The light from the television cast the room in a pale glow, muted colors shifting from blue to green and back to blue again as the scene of the movie oscillated between the perspective of the two main characters— the protagonist and antagonist about to come to a head.

Tomura was enraptured, unable to tear his unblinking gaze from the screen as the tense music began to pick up speed, the cuts between the two opposing sides getting faster and faster until they met on the same ground, the final fight about to build to a crescendo.

You, however, were currently focused on something much more important than a dramatic psychological thriller you’d already seen a million times.

Because, being carefully massaged between your soft little hands was one of Tomura’s big, rough palms, the skin cracked and flaking with irritation.

“Tomu…” you murmured, sort of with a concerned, sympathetic coo. “I told you… you don’t need to wait until they’re this bad to come to me. I can do it nightly, I don’t mind.”

All he gave in response was a simple hum and a barely detectable nod. You felt his hand tense slightly in yours as the fight took a turn and the villain got the upper hand. You knew that’s who he was rooting for, though, unfortunately, very few films ended with the bad guys winning in the end.

You continued to work the first layer of lotion into one of his hands, then reached over to grab the other from his lap, giving it the same treatment. It was a thin, lightweight hand cream that, for you, normally did the trick. In the colder months, maybe you would have to reapply it two or three times a day, at most, but for Tomura, you’d gathered every lotion, cream, and salve within your moisturizing arsenal to treat him with.

All it took was one look at his hands to know it was going to be a lengthy process.

“Just tell me if any of it starts to burn or sting,” you instructed him, finishing with his left hand and retaking up the right one where, just as you’d thought, the first layer of lotion had already soaked all the way in and left his hand still feeling dry, albeit slightly less rough. “And if you notice any unusual redness by tomorrow you need to—”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He appreciated your help, truly he did, but he wasn’t used to having someone fuss over him like this. The care you offered was still a foreign thing to him.

He remedied the harsher edges of his voice then by looking over and giving a small grin, chapped lips beseeching of your attention as well. Lightly squeezing your hand in his, he said, “I’ll let you know.”

That seemed to placate you, for the time being at least, and you resumed your work tending to his hands.

“You better…” you muttered with a crooked grin.

Now moving onto the second layer, you flipped open the cap of a thicker, slightly stronger eczema cream. It would help lock the moisture in better than the surface layer that you’d just finished applying. It was your favorite for whenever you, yourself, encountered any stubborn dry patches on your own skin. A few days of this stuff and your ailment would disappear. You figured it would take a few weeks to have even half the effect on Tomura, though, it wasn’t so much the appearance of his skin that concerned you. It was more so how the constant itching sensation affected him.

It was painful, you could tell. It showed in the way he flinched and hissed and scratched himself raw, carving new scars over old ones. It hurt you to watch him hurting, so whatever you could do to help him feel more comfortable in his own skin, you were more than willing to try.

“Ah, man…” you heard Tomura grumble, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “They always let the heroes win. So predicable…”

He turned his attention away from the movie— there was only about ten minutes left now anyway— and instead decided to focus more on you now.

“What’s this one do?” He half-mockingly, half-curiosity inquired, plucking up step three of your six step lotion lineup for the night. He narrowed his eyes as he read the packaging, smirk widening as he asked with a bit of a chuckle, “And what the fuck is colloidal oatmeal?”

You swiped it from his grasp, motioning for him to give you back his hand.

“It helps your skin!” was all you could offer in defense. And then, before he could tease you any further, you said, “Now stop stalling and sit still.”

To humor you, Tomura complied, though the way his entire body relaxed the more you lulled him with the soothing circles you massaged into his hand spoke to just how much he’d needed this. Craved it. He never asked for it himself, but whenever you told him to sit down and let you tend to him, he never tried to argue.

“Y’know, I’ve been trying to do some research,” you eventually admitted, “and I think I might’ve found a few products that could really give you some relief in the long term. They’re pricey but…”

“Well,” Tomura shrugged. “That’s what shoplifting was invented for.”

At that, you gave a gentle chuckle. “Well, some of these things are prescription only…” You shot him a coy glance. “Which is why I’ve also been researching how to commit prescription fraud.”

“Ah,” he replied, perking with sarcasm. “Glad to see your robbery skills are leveling up.”

You let out another laugh, opened the cap to the next ointment. “Forging medical documents might be the boss battle,” you joked.

“Yeah…” he sighed, something in his expression softening then. “But if anyone can beat it, it’s gonna be you.”

You felt yourself warming to his praise. You were his favorite little hacker, after all, your quirk allowing you to enter into any kind of technology— the internet included— and navigate through it as if it were a physical space, your consciousness traveling into the coding and giving you the ability to alter things, to fidget with and rearrange the contents like they were items on a shelf or paintings on a wall.

By now, you were nearing the end of your moisturizing process, a pile of previous lotions, potions, oils, and hand creams collecting on your side of the couch.

“How does it feel?” you asked him. He hadn’t complained about any discomfort, but you still wanted to make sure.

“Mm, pretty good, I think,” he answered. Though, what he really liked most about these exchanges wasn’t necessarily the effect it had on his skin, but rather getting to have your full attention, privately, away from the other members of the League.

He liked how meticulously you tended to his hands, making sure to get every inch from fingertips to wrists.

He liked how you touched him with such gentle care, dare it be compared to love.

“Good,” you smiled, interlocking your fingers with his as soon as you were done. After these sessions, your palms were even softer than they'd been at the start.

You snuggled against his shoulder, resting your head against it even though it was a bit boney. His hand grasped yours just a little tighter, a silent plea for you to stay here, like this, with him, for just a while longer.

“Thank you…” Tomura eventually muttered, sounding halfway to dozing off. You were starting to drift too, so you almost missed it. But once it registered to you you grinned, softly nuzzling against him.

“Anytime,” you murmured.

Anytime.

#happy birthday to our boooooy!!!#I just wanna take care of him 🥺#tomura shigaraki #tomura x reader #tomura x you #tomura x y/n #boku no hero academia fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #my hero academia fanfiction #mha x reader #mha x you #mha x y/n #drabble

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kikyo-bnha-imagines · 8 months

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Reader with a memory loss condition, any character, hella angst 🙏

BAKUGOU KATSUKI | MEMORY LOSS

Katsuki thought he’d lost you for good. The sight of you covered in blood, eyes squeezed shut, and barely even breathing... it was almost too much to bear. If he couldn’t even protect the person he loved most, then how the fuck could he call himself a hero?

But against all odds, you survived. The universe decided to have mercy this time, even though he’d failed to protect you. He’d fucked up, and the guilt would follow him forever, but at least he was being granted a second chance.

Unfortunately, your life had come at no small price.

“I have to warn you, Bakugou,” the doctor frowns. “She’s... different now. All of the healing and surgery have taken care of her life-threatening injuries, but she suffered severe head trauma, and it’s put her in a state of disorientation.”

Katsuki clenches his jaw. “What are you trying to say? I know it’s gonna take her a while to recover. It’s not like I expect her to be up and running right away. As long as she’s safe—”

“I’m referring to her brain. Well, more specifically, her memories. We did an initial screening, and it’s quite clear that she’s suffering from amnesia.” The doctor offers a sympathetic smile. “I just wanted you to know, so that you can prepare yourself.”

“...oh.”

Katsuki doesn’t know what else to say. Really, what can he say? You’re alive. That simple fact alone is worthy of celebration. He's just grateful that you’re still here, living and breathing. He doesn’t have to say goodbye to you. He’ll never, ever be ready to say goodbye to you.

“This is still a very early diagnosis,” the doctor reassures. “Following a traumatic event, some patients suffer memory loss for a few days, weeks, or in rarer cases, months, but it’s not guaranteed to be permanent. In fact, temporary amnesia is far more common. It just takes a while for the brain to repair itself.”

“I get it,” Katsuki nods. Right. It’s all going to be fine. You’ve just come out of a life-threatening battle, so it’s no wonder if your mind is in disarray.

There’s no need to panic. Katsuki loves you, and you love him.

As long as you’re together, whatever it is, you’ll get through it.

“If you’re ready, then you’re welcome to go see her now,” the doctor encourages.

Katsuki doesn’t need to be told twice. He steps into the hospital room without sparing a breath, and sure enough, there you are. Sweet, lovely [Name]. The love of his life, all covered in bandages, but looking just as beautiful as always.

Katsuki swallows his tears. He already cried his heart out when he first thought you were a goner, and he cried even more while you were in intensive care. There’s no point in crying anymore, not when you’re alive and well. Seeing him with a weak, broken expression won’t do you any good.

For your sake, he needs to be strong.

“[Name],” Katsuki mumbles. He walks over to your bedside and pulls out a chair so he can sit close. He isn’t normally much of a smiler, but being next to you like this—something he thought he’d never be able to do again—makes his lips curl up at the sides and tremble in relief.

You’re alive. Your injuries have been healed, for the most part, and there won’t be any lasting damage. There’s no reason why you won’t be able to keep enjoying life, just as you've done up until now.

Overwhelmed with emotion and the desire to feel the warmth of your skin against his, Katsuki reaches out to grab your hand.

You recoil immediately, and in that moment, Katsuki’s heart shatters.

“Sorry,” you swallow. “Um. I don’t... I don’t know who you are.”

He feels like he’s about to throw up. The doctor mentioned amnesia. He did mention amnesia. But... isn’t this way too extreme? This is like the kind of stuff that happens in movies, or when elderly patients are in the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s.

You blink, searching his expression for a clue. “I’m sorry,” you frown. “I feel like I should know you. It sounds like you know me. But it’s just hard. It feels like my head is all foggy. I’m really, really sorry...”

And then you start crying. You cry and cry, even though you can’t possibly be to blame, and all the while, Katsuki is helpless to do anything but watch.

“It’s not—” He swallows hard, wiping his eyes so that he doesn’t start crying too. “I-It’s okay,” he chokes out. “It’s not your fault, [Name]. I’m Katsuki. Bakugou Katsuki. Does that name sound familiar at all? It’ll come back to you. I promise it will.”

“I don’t know,” you sob. “I don’t know. I just don’t know...”

He’s never wanted to hug you more in his entire life, but how can he? From your perspective, he’s nothing more than a stranger. You wouldn’t even let him hold your hand. All of those years spent together, all of those incredible memories you’d shared... they’re gone. Just like that.

“It’s not your fault,” Katsuki mumbles brokenly.

He says it again and again, but he’s not even sure you hear him over the sound of your own cries.

The past few months have been the hardest of Katsuki’s entire life, and regretfully, the days ahead aren’t going to get any easier.

Your amnesia is permanent. Or, at the very least, the odds of you making a recovery at this point are so small they may as well be zero.

Katsuki isn’t the only person you’ve forgotten. You forgot a good chunk of the classmates you went to U.A with, major life events, and even certain encounters with villains—including the very incident that nearly claimed your life. The doctor said it’s very common for traumatic events to be forgotten, and while Katsuki is glad that you don’t have to remember something so horrible, why did you have to forget all the good stuff too?

It’s just not fair. Katsuki knows he should be grateful. He still gets to see your pretty, smiling face, he still gets to talk to you and hear you laugh from time to time. None of that would have been possible if the doctors hadn’t fought tooth and nail to save your life. At least you’re still young, your body is in healthy, functional shape, and the personality he fell for is still largely unchanged.

Katsuki doesn’t want to complain. He doesn’t want to take what he still has for granted.

But it just really fucking hurts.

He hasn’t been able to hold you in months. He hasn’t been able to kiss you either. Even though he’s told you that the two of you used to date, you’ve forgotten all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. It’s taken time for you to let your guard down, especially since everything’s so difficult to make sense of.

You’re friends. At the very least, Katsuki is still a part of your life. But every time he cracks an inside joke or accidentally makes a reference to something that happened in the past, and he sees the confused look in your eyes, a part of him breaks.

Still, he refuses to stop trying. He’ll never stop trying. The doctors said that certain memories can trigger other ones, and in rare cases, even patients with severe memory loss were able to make a miraculous recovery.

Katsuki never used to be the type of person to hold out hope for a miracle, but nowadays, it’s all he ever wishes for.

“It’s pretty here,” you say, sighing happily. Your gaze flickers towards the beach’s shoreline, and you admire the gentle, rippling waves as the sun descends through the sky.

Katsuki just stares at you. “You’re prettier,” he replies.

“Oh, pfft,” you brush off. “Quit hitting on me.”

He wants to do more than just hit on you. He wants you wrap his arms around you and slam his lips against yours, meeting you in the most desperate, passionate kiss he can muster. If it was up to him, the two of you would already be rolling around in the sand right now, bodies pressed together so close that you could feel each other’s heartbeat.

But he can’t. You’re not ready yet. You’re not ready, and... you’ve forgotten. You’ve forgotten the happiest moments of his life.

So, he’ll wait. There’s nothing else he can do but wait. Starting over from the beginning is painful and gut-wrenching. It’s an endless cycle of despair. You might never remember. There’s a chance you might not even fall in love with him again.

But at least you’re alive. At least you’re here with him right now.

Katsuki will never stop trying, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much he cries. He’ll form new memories with you, and even if those disappear one day too...

He’ll just start all over again.

#bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #romance #mha headcanons #bakugou katsuki x reader #angst #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bnha oneshots #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou

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stayinlimbo · 2 months

Text

she kissed me and i tasted you again

summary: the second worst thing to happen in minho’s life was losing you. he’s still living with the first.

pairing: lee minho x f!reader genre: angst (and i mean it) WARNINGS: implied character death, a non-consensual kiss, grief, drinking, swearing, slightly unedited, intended lowercase please do not read if any of these themes are triggering. word count: 1.91k note: please read the warnings! i had "leave me alone" by daniel seavey on repeat while writing this. i hope you enjoy ♡ please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are always appreciated

minho shouldn’t have listened to chan.

the blend of colorful strobe lights, though vibrant, does little to illuminate the dark room he finds himself in. the smell of alcohol and smoke permeates the air, stinging his eyes and nose as he blindly pushes through the numerous people blocking his way. an involuntary gag almost escapes him at the overwhelming body odor of the man he just brushed past.

at first, a “boys’ night out” to end a stressful work week didn’t sound like the worst idea minho had heard come from his friend’s mouth. now, though, the combination of being pressed between sweaty bodies and the mediocre club music pulsating in the background was reason enough for him to want to end the night prematurely and return to the familiarity of his home.

but he can’t. not if he wants chan’s disappointed face to haunt him for the rest of the weekend.

because chan is just trying to help. or at least that’s what minho tells himself every time he is dragged out of his small one-bedroom apartment to entertain his friend’s version of fun. last week was camping, which minho would normally enjoy if chan had bothered to check the weather forecast’s warnings of heavy rain and strong winds (he only lasted twenty minutes before sprinting back into the car, forcing a reluctant chan to take him home drenched and in a darkened mood).

the thinning crowd reveals minho’s destination; the bar is too small for the number of people surrounding the countertop but chan’s broad stature is identifiable enough in the poor lighting for minho to walk over and squeeze himself beside him. on the other side of his friend, a woman holds chan’s attention as the two talk animatedly about somethi-

minho’s eyes widen, sparing his friend’s back an incredulous glance. his pulse quickens, a rapid rhythm pounding in his chest, as snippets of their conversation reach his ears; the phrases knows how to cook, really good dancer, three cats, single, spew haphazardly out of chan’s mouth and echo in minho’s mind. the woman’s cheerful laughter resonates against the music's throbbing bass and the blood rushing in his ears.

oh. oh. they’re talking about him.

“chan,” minho’s voice is a low murmur, barely audible enough for the older man to hear, “what’re you doing?”

minho’s question hangs in the air as chan’s rambling suddenly stops, carefully turning his body to face minho’s intense stare.

the discomfort radiating off the younger is obvious. shifting in his stance, minho can’t help the slight furrow of his brows; the hardness of his eyes wanes as they flicker between chan and the woman before finally resting on his friend’s face.

softly exhaling, chan gives him a knowing look.

fuck.

minho remains silent as his grip on the bar’s edge tightens, avoiding chan’s sympathetic gaze. he knows what’s coming—the well-intentioned yet painful words that carve a hole in his heart every time they are uttered:

“its been over a year, minho. she’d want you to be happy… i want you to be happy”

minho’s eyes screw shut at his friend’s words.

perhaps it’s the pitiful expression etched on chan’s face, mirroring the ache minho feels within his own chest, or the alcohol flowing through his system that makes him truly consider the weight of the elder’s words. or maybe he’s seen enough of chan’s desperate attempts to mend the fragments of minho’s shattered heart, only to reveal more irreparable damage.

he’s right…

“just try, okay?” chan quietly pleads.

regardless, a small nod is all he manages to give in response. minho opens his eyes, tracking his friend’s movement as chan gives his shoulder two reassuring pats before walking away from the bar and disappearing into the sea of bodies.

…you’d want him to be happy.

“hey”

flinching, minho snaps his head in the direction of the feminine voice. his posture straightens, a tight lipped grimace threatening to reveal itself.

oh, right, she’s still here.

a hesitant smile graces the woman’s expression. the gentle glow of the pulsing lights caress her face with various colorful hues, the radiant shadows enhancing her black-dressed figure as she grabs her half-full drink from the countertop. taking a small sip, her eyes glaze over his tense form. a soft chuckle escapes her glossed lips as she locks her eyes with his.

minho won’t deny it; she is beautiful. and he must’ve been staring too much because her name falls on deaf ears when she attempts to introduce herself.

“...hello? you are minho, right?” the woman questions, eyebrows furrowing with slight doubt.

“uh, yeah i am, sorry,” minho answers, his sweaty hands fumbling to grab chan’s left-behind soju, ultimately choosing to shove them into his pockets instead. he can feel the awkwardness emanating off of him, filling the room with a lingering tension he doesn’t know how to escape.

the woman’s smile widens, eyes crinkling with pleasure at his reply.

well, she doesn’t seem to notice at least.

“ah, great! chan, i think that was his name, was telling me all about you. you have a really dedicated wingman.”

“yeah, he’s a good friend. i’m lucky to have him,” minho sighs, turning his body to fully face her.

“you’re a dancer, right?”

the rigidness of his stance loosens slightly at the comfortable subject. talking about himself isn’t hard; it never has been.

“mhm, i’m a dance teacher for a studio nearby,” minho replies, a faint smile playing on his lips. the flow of conversation remained focused on him: he’s been a dance teacher for three years but has danced since he was in middle school. yes, maybe he’ll audition for a company one day. yes, he has three cats named soongie, doongie, and dori.

the passage of time blends together with their laughter. the nameless woman’s drink has long been finished and replaced with a new one. chan’s soju finds its way into minho’s hand, nursing the bottle carefully as he finishes it with a final swig. the stress mounted on his shoulders has finally lifted, the buzz of alcohol brushing the pain off as they rise and fall rhythmically at her drunken attempt to finish recounting an embarrassing date.

“do you live alone?” the woman’s speech is slightly slurred, tone breathless from laughter. a lopsided grin adorns her features, as if she already knows the answer, “i forgot to ask you earlier.”

minho’s smile begins to fall. “no, i told you about my cats, remember?”

“i meant do you live with another person? a roommate? chan told me you used to live with your ex, so i was just wondering if anything had changed since then.”

the room freezes over. icy tendrils of shock and disbelief squeeze his hammering heart, his blood running cold at the woman’s words. his ex?

silence fills the tense space. the intensifying pain from his clutch on the soju bottle thrusts him back into his dreadful reality. he lets go, placing his hand flat on the counter.

minho sucks in a deep breath. “oh. what else did chan tell you?”

“wellllllll,” she drawls, a flirty smile appearing on her face. the shadows seem menacing now, their elongated forms dancing along with her slow, deliberate words, “he said you needed help getting over her.”

the woman reaches towards him, fingers closing firmly on his forearm. minho doesn’t have time to react before she lurches forward and seals her lips with his.

the kiss lasts for two seconds before she pulls away. paralyzed, minho can’t move until she attempts it again, forcefully shoving her away. tears well into his widened eyes, quickly threatening to spill onto his cheeks. the transferred lipgloss feels sticky against his mouth.

“get the fuck away from me, now.”

the woman doesn’t move, her mouth stammering as she tries to form a coherent sentence. “i-i’m sorry. i was just trying to-”

minho doesn’t wait to hear her justification, swiftly pushing away from the bar and stumbling in the direction of the exit. the rush of air as he pushes the door open makes singular tears streamline down his face. the chilled breeze burns his eyes as they dart around his surroundings lit by the sparse scattering of street lamps.

no, he really shouldn’t have listened to chan.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

minho doesn’t know how he made it home (well, actually, he does but he’d rather pretend he doesn’t than admit that chan saw his distressed state leave the nightclub and called him an uber).

the taste of the woman’s lipgloss remains on his lips, no matter how many times he tries to wipe it away. he hates how he doesn’t hate it because it tastes like you.

you, who wore the same strawberry lipgloss every time you went on a date, only for minho to kiss it all off by the end of the night.

you, who was so excited to move in with him in this small, dingy apartment until the two of you could find a better place; a home.

you, who promised you’d be right back before kissing his cheek and heading out the door.

you, whose hands he will never hold again.

you, whose spot on the bed his cats now sleep on every night.

you, who one year, four months, and six days later, still occupy his every thought.

you– a sob wracks through his body, echoing around the bedroom’s walls. the empty mattress trembles with him as he curls into himself, breath hitching with every whimper of your name, as if calling it enough times would bring you back into his arms once again—right where you belong.

no, you were never his ex. you were everything. you are everything.

your presence is everywhere in the apartment. your favorite coffee mug (that he gifted you) rests on the counter next to his. the book you swore you would finish reading one day is left bookmarked inside the drawer of the bedside table; the same place a velvet box is tucked away and hidden since he knew you’d never pick it up again (but god, he wishes you did). he had to throw away your toothbrush but your skin care products taunt him every time he retrieves his from under the sink.

his heart aches with a feeling that refuses to fade; he loved you. he loves you.

everyday becomes harder to breathe, to exist. the apartment, once filled with loud laughter, gentle whispers, and promises of love, is now a silent void. the absence of your soft footsteps, a careful dance to avoid stepping on the cats crowding around your feet, claws at minho’s heart. the sanctuary he knew he could run to and be welcomed with open arms and a warm embrace crumbled before his eyes the moment you were gone.

minho’s breaths evens out after a few minutes, each inhale pulling the familiar scent of the apartment. the tears leave damp marks on his pillow and lines on his face but its nothing he isn’t used to; a ritual, a routine he’s sadly accustomed to. it's not the first time his tears have stained the sheets, and it won’t be the last. the cruel cycle will repeat itself until one day he wakes up and doesn’t instinctively reach out for you in hopes that his reality isn’t just a hellish nightmare.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

the second worst thing to happen in minho’s life was losing you. he doesn’t know if he can keep living with the first.

────────────────────────────────────────────

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linkspooky · 2 months

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The Death of Kenjaku

So I was planning to write this meta the week that Kenjaku died, but decided to delay until we got full confirmation of his death. Something I didn't believe in even after Kenjaku passed the merger onto Sukuna. However, watching this video about death in Jujutsu Kaisen inspired me to finish this post. Not because I disagree with anything the YouTuber is saying, but because they can speculate on the meaning of so many deaths in Jujutsu Kaisen but can't find the meaning in Kenjaku's sudden death. This has led me to speculate why Gege made the choice to kill Kenjaku in the way that he did. What meaning is there in Kenjaku's abrupt and unsatisfying death?

Who is Kenjaku?

The first step in understanding Kenjaku's death is of course understanding how he lived. We actually know incredibly little about Kenjaku's character by design. Despite the fact he's literally in Geto's body, he's not meant to have sympathetic or human motivations to his actions (though hold onto that "human motivation" in your head for a moment). No flashback sequence shows the audience why this guy is the way he is, no single event seems to have driven him to do what he did.

This is what we know about Kenjaku in brief. He is a sorcerer who is over a thousand years old who was around in Sukuna's day. He once had a friendship with Tengen, but found her original self boring and unambitious. He also contrasts heavily with Tengen, who lives outside of humanity, because he has lived among humanity for 1,000 years. One of those lifetimes was Noritoshi Kamo who violated a woman and conducted heinous experiments. He produced ten children in his one thousand years, the nine death painting siblings and Yuji Itadori. He considers the first children boring, because human and curse hybrids turned out too normal.

He also partially blames himself for how boring they are, because he can't create anything that will exceed his expectations, the only thing that can exceed his expectations is born in chaos. He spent a thousand years organizing the culling games, and wants to use the games to create a merger, because he thinks creating a merger between Tengen and Humanity will create something entirely new and interesting. He also believes the way towards the future lies in further optimizing cursed energy, not in breaking away from it the way Yuki Tsukumo tried to do and Maki has.

The only people whose word we have on Kenjaku's motivations are Kenjaku himself, and Tengen's word and Tengen themselves who claims to not know what goes on in the human heart.

From all of the above Kenjaku seems to be a shallow character who's motivations can be summed up as "because I can" and "I want to see what happens." This shallowness is intentional however, as Gege who once praised the minimalist storytelling of Nasu and Evangelion likes to pick and choose what crumbs of backstory he gives out for his characters. We've never gotten any exposition on the Gojo clan, but we have an entire chapter about Takaba's failed career as a stand-up comic. This isn't a judgement of good or bad writing, this is just how Gege writes as minimalist as possible. This is in line with how Gege writes the ancient sorcerers as well, they are all much more shallow driven by instinct or Freudian Id (I desire) rather than the higher reasoning of modern-day sorcerers. Takaba uses comedy as a means of communication and bridging the gaps between people, Higuruma's backstory is the critique of the modern day justice system. Ishigori apparently lived a satisfying life where he was succesful and had good women, but that wasn't enough so he wants to get into a fight with Yuta to satisfy his hunger and feel like he's eaten desert.

It sounds shallow when I summarize it in text, but in the context of the fight with Yuta, it's a challenge for Yuta who for the most part only cares about his loved ones and sees the world through his love goggles to be more selfish and fight for his own desires. It's also reflective of a more basic and instinctual kind of thinking, as opposed to the higher reasoning and logic that modern-day sorcerers apply.

I'm keeping most of this first part to text for this reason, like go back and read the fight with Ishigori and Yuta. If I summarize Ishigori's character reasoning out of context it sounds stupid, but read the fight and it works because it's ID (I Desire) vs. Yuta's superego in not only having to collect points to help rescue Tsumiki, find a way to protect all the innocent people in the Culling Games, and also collect enough points to take on Kenjaku himself so Gojo won't have to. Meanwhile Ishigori's just fighting to get some of that sweet desert, the shallow works in contrast to the more layered motivations of our heroes.

Kenjaku is a shallow archetype fighting to satisfy his baser impulses (in his case curiosity) in comparison to the main characters who are fighting for more complicated reasons and often people besides themselves.

The question then becomes what archetype is Kenjaku. In that case answering who Kenjaku is is quite simple.

Kenjaku is a clown.

It might be more accurate to say that Kenjaku embodies what's commonly known as the "trickster archetype" but I'mma go with clown.

The most obvious example of a clown villain is what most consider the joker to be, that is a silly little clown man who challenges the straight faced and grim batman and sews chaos where Batman attempts to establish law and order in Gotham and make the city into a better place.

From the book Batman and Psychology:

More than any other villains, the Joker and Two-face reflect Batman himself as funhouse distortions, converses of who and what he is. The laughing, jesting, brightly colored Joker contrasts with grim, dark Batman. The Joker is the Joker. No alter ego. The film's opening bank robbery shows him wearing a clown mask over clown makeup, Under the surface there's only more Joker. He gives no history except inconsistent lies. When he finally considers the impact of his demand Batman unmask, he retracts the threat and demands that Batman's identity remain undisclosed. He wants a batman who has no other self, a Dark Knight whose only deeper layer is further darkness.

Is there a better descriptor for Kenjaku then these words?

Kenjaku is Kenjaku. No alter ego. A clown mask over clown makeup., Under the surface there's only more Kenjaku.

In other words, what you see is what you get.

Kenjaku even mirrors Joker's opinion of Batman, he thinks people should be more like him, not the other way around. He's not the outlier, he's being true to humanity's basic impulses of curiousity and discovery.

A more apt comparison as a clown though would probably be Loki, one of the most classic examples of clowning in the shared mythology of humanity. The character who challenges the common wisdom of gods like Odin who suspended themselves from the world tree for eleven days in order to gain wisdom. Loki, who through his trickery manages to bring about the events of Ragnarok for no deeper reason than because he can. Everyone swore not to harm Balder and Loki goes to find something that can harm him because BET.

Mythological Loki doesn't need a deeper motivation because what he represents in the mythology is someone who challenges authority and brings about a change, because in Norse Mythology nothing lasts forever and no era is permanent. Jujutsu Kaisen is also a story about how things should not in fact stay the same and tradition is bad sometimes.

When Kenjaku finds Tengen's true body he's curled up in a tree root in the fetal position, and he killed what is basically the all-knowing, all-seeing supposedly immortal sorcerer that maintains the status quo of japan, it's not exactly subtle.

Kenjaku is a clown, and clown's gotta clown. We don't need any more explanation that, it's more about what he does for the story. However, what he represents, the deep intellectual curiosity, and also a drive to disrupt the status quo in an attempt to see something more interesting can also be analyzed more deeply because they are human emotions that motivate us as well. The same way that Mahito is an inhuman monster, but he's created and motivated by the fear of other humans, something all of us have. '

Before moving onto his death though, I wanna hammer in how Kenjaku really is just motivated by these two things, a desire to see something interesting, and intellectual curiosity by comparing him to other characters.

The Clown in Fiction

I've already compared Kenjaku to Loki and the Joker, but when it comes to someone who wants to disrupt the entire order of the world simply because they're bored we've got to go to the original girlboss.

So there are plenty of villains who go "I'm evil because I'm bored" but they usually tend to be pretty shallow, either shallowly written for the lulz evil characters who just exist for shock value or just kinda dull. No one has ever done it as good as Junko Enoshima and no one ever will again.

For those who need context DanganRonpa is a death game series where the main villain basically has caused the apocalypse, wiped out most of humanity, and then induces survivors in a bunker to kill each other in a death game, where if someone commits a succesful murder they can escape the bunker, but if they're caught in a trial they're executed. Also, if they're not convicted in the trial everyone else is killed, motivating the jury to find and execute the guilty murderer.

Junko Enoshima the main villain and orchestrator of this death game ended the world because despair. She wants to inflict despair on everyone because despair. Because hope sucks and despair is where it's at.

It sounds shallow and it is and Kodaka has said in interview he wrote Junko to be a villain character with zero redeeming character traits, and no sympathetic backstory to describe why she is the way she is, but there is still something motivating her.

If you go a bit deeper into the lore and read Dangan Ronpa Zero, there is an entire book which explains the lengths which Junko goes to feel normal human emotions. The thing is much like Kenjaku Junko is too smart for her own good, everything is predictable and therefore everything bores her. Once in an attempt to live normally, she literally lobotomizes herself, makes it so that she can't remember anything and has continual amnesia constantly forgetting what just happened to her, because that's the only way she can live without knowing everything that's going to happen and constantly predicting everyone's actions.

Junko has whatever her universe's version of the six-eyes is, but instead of lording it over other people like Gojo and basking in her superiority she wants to feel normal, and connected to the world. If she can't have that she tries to make the world as unpredictable place as possible so she can experience it the same way that everyone else does.

Hope is harmony. A just heart, moving toward the light. That is all. Despair is hope's polar opposite. It is messy and confusing. It swallows up love, hatred, and everything else. Because not knowing where you will end up is despair. Despair is even what you cannot predict. Only despair's unpredictability can save you from a boring future.

I'm still not describing it properly because I don't want to go into a Danganronpa essay in this post about Jujutsu Kaisen, but one example I always use is two characters from American Dragon Jake Long. They're a pair of twins who see the future, one always sees happy things, and one always sees sad things. The one who has happy visions is a goth who's very depressed and the one who sees disaster is an incredibly peppy girl.

Jake is so confused as to why the twin who always sees good visions is so depressed, and she basically tells him to imagine having every good thing, every small little surprise, every pleasure taken out of life.

Kara: When you only see good things, nothing's special anymore. All the pleasant surprises are taken out of life. Sara: But, when you only see bad stuff, even the smallest bit of good news makes you happy!

All of this to say what Junko feels isn't just boredom, or a desire to commit evil for evil's sake, but also a full on existential crisis where she's simply too smart so she doesn't feel any connection to other people or the world around her. In order to feel that connection, that connection that everyone else has, to feel like she is actually a participant in her life not an observer she's willing to go to extremes to make the world a more interesting place, to therefore make her own life feel satisfying.

Kenjaku vs. The World (Kenjaku Pilgrim's sad little life)

To connect all this back to Kenjaku imagine the profound existential despair of a person who's lived for a thousand years, and felt bored all that time. Sukuna is at least a hedonist, he gets his fun by getting into fights, humans might be bugs to him but they're tasty bugs.

Kenjaku goes to similiar motivations and has similiar extremes, he's uninvested in the world around him, he's lived a thousand years but has no attachment to the world, to life, to the people around him. I said that Junko wants to be a participant in life not an all seeing observer and that was purposeful language because to bring back an old post. I rambled on this post about Gojo that part of Gojo's problem is that he only experiences observer-to-object relationships or I to it.

Ich and Du, translated as I and Thou is a book by philosopher Martin Buber. His two main porositions is that we may address existence in two ways:

The attitude of the “I” towards “it” towards an object that is separate in itself, which we either use or experience.

The attitude of “I” towards “Thou” in a relationship in which the other is not separated by discrete bounds.

In Buber's terms, those who only experience the first type of relationships are only observing the world around them not relating to them. Kenjaku doesn't relate to other human beings because they are objects, he only experiences subject -> object relationships and never subject -> subject.

Buber also goes on to theorize that meaning in our lives comes from subject -> subject relationships we form with other people.

Kenjaku jokingly says that to be his friend you have to never bore him and be his equal, but there's no one considers his equal because he's the subject and everyone else are just objects.

He regrets he can't sit down and talk theories with Tsukumo Yuki because she's one of the few people who think like him.

Kenjaku is a paradox of an incredibly brilliant man who is also shallow as a puddle that you can stand in and not get your socks wet. However, he tragically can't really form a more complex identity because our identities are formed by our relationships to other people and Kenjaku doesn't relate to anybody.

That's basically the theme of the whole Choso and Kenjaku fight, Choso is a weird aborted fetus of a curse who still has a strong identity and is able to feel unconditional love for Yuji because of the connection of family and the ideas of brotherhood that binds the two. Kenjaku is a bad father who abandoned Choso because they were "boring" but also never really gave them a chance to grow up or be interesting, he just dismissed them offhand and moved on to the next weird science project.

However, his reason for dismissing Choso isn't Choso's fault but rather a case of Psychological projection. It's not Choso who is boring, but rather Kenjaku himself, he said so earlier.

"What I can create, does not exceed the bounds of my own potential. The answer is always flickering darkly in chaos."

Kenjaku cannot look within to find anything satisfying abput his life because there's nothing inside of him. He doesn't have a fully formed identiy he's just ID, and because he tramples all over other people to form his desires he also cannot ever form a full ego. Just like Sukuna and most of the ancient sorcerers he's a paradox of being all ego, and yet having an underdeveloped ego with shallow motivators.

Kenjaku cannot look within because he's a boring person, and he cannot look for other people to find worth in his life because they're just objects, so instead he looks into the void, he tries to change the world around him by spreading more chaos hoping that it will make something unpredictable happen in front of his eyes - and that will give him the meaning and investment in his life he's deprived himself of because he refuses to form relationships with other people.

It's the Gojo problem. It's the Kashimo problem. It's not the Sukuna problem, because Sukuna admits he doesn't care about and rejects things like love and meaning.

If Kenjaku makes the world around him a more interesting place, he will be able to live in it. It's the same as Gojo trying to raise people up to his level by creating stronger students.

So after going to great length to demonstrate how powerful and all-consuming Kenjaku's boredom is, and how cut off he is from his own humanity, here's the part where I sort of defend his death.

Wouldn't it be funny if the joke character killed the main villain?

Let's be honest it was Takaba's kill here, Yuta just camped and killstole. I think part of the problem with people not understanding the meaning behind Kenjaku's sudden and unexpected death is attributing the death to Yuta cutting his head off out of nowhere, and not Takaba's thematic victory over Kenjaku.

Takaba represents a blindspot for Kenjaku which is why the main characters use him as a weapon against him, and he also calls out in a fashion Kenjaku's hypocrisy. First and foremost, Kenjaku presents himself as an agent of change, but he actually has no interest in many of the modern sorcerers and holds a bias towards the heian era as the peak of sorcery. He even says that he's going to bring back the Heian Golden Age to Sukuna at the end of Shibuya arc.

Because that's what Chaos is Kenjaku, things being the same as they were 1,000 years ago. Kenjaku is an agent of change and chaos and somehow his definition of change is... resetting things back to the past because the sorcerers of the past were so much better than today.

Kenjaku goes out of his way to awaken hundreds of modern day sorcerers, and then dismisses literally off of them except for Hiromi because they don't have enough potential for him compared to ancient sorcerers. He essentially did the same with the Death Painting Bros, he went through all of the trouble to create them, then dismissed them as not having enough potential BEFORE THEY EVEN GOT THE CHANCE TO GROW UP.

Kenjaku has a habit of just going BORED NOW and leaving before he even gives things the time to impress him. He does the same with the Culling Game, he set up the death game to push sorcerers to fight each other and bring out their powers, but he never actually intended to watch the sorcerers evolve. He just wanted to slaughter everyone inside to start the merger.

He goes through a lot of potential to set up these situations and then abandons them before they have the chance to even evolve, because they do not have enough "potential" in his opinion, but like his opinion is often shown to be wrong. Takaba represents that blindspot because he was one of the modern sorcerers that Kenjaku underestimated and dismissed offhand as boring without giving him a chance to shine.

That is the joke that Takaba introduces himself with "Wouldn't it be funny if a random comic relief side character suddenly defeated the big bad?"

He's immediately pointing out a blindspot, because Kenjaku automatically believes himself to be an important character, he underestimates Takaba because he's a side character, one of the people Kenjaku has dismissed as boring and uninteresting (before they even had a chance to evolve into something else). Like that's the other thing Kenjaku wants things to evolve but he doesn't... let them. He abandoned Choso and the rest before they even grew up, they were literally fetuses and he threw them away. Kenjaku is the protagonist of reality, and Takaba is a side character, and therefore Takaba couldn't possibly harm him because Kenjaku and his boundless curiosity are the center of the world.

It's not just about subverting the audience's expectations to have the main villain die in such an anti-climactic way before the final act even starts, but it's pointing out how narrow Kenjaku's viewpoints really were all along. He wants everything to be surprised but he never lets anything surprise him, because either he gets bored right away, or he looks down on others before giving them the chance to evolve, or the third thing he just straight up has to control everything. He can't let the culling game evolve naturally he's going to slaughter all the players by hand so he can move onto the next part.

It's the contradiction between a schemer who needs to control everything and everyone to bring about his intended result and everything needs to be a part of his big plans, to someone who wants to be surprised by others and have things go off the rails. You can't have both of these things at once, Kenjaku cannot have things surprise him if he rigs everything to go his way with his overly elaborate schemes and his tight-fisted control of everyone in the story.

Like, in comparison to Kenjaku the joker just blows things up and sprays people with laughing gas. They're both playing the same game but the joker is having fun and Kenjaku isn't.

Kenjaku wants an unexpected future, but he doesn't care about any of the modern sorcerers and has a bias towards the heiean era that he considers the height and wants to reset things to bring back the heian era. He wants to be surprised but won't give up control.

Kenjaku's boast is that unlike Tengen he's spent a thousand years living on the ground instead of lording up on them from above like some deity, but is that true? Has Kenjaku lived? Has he engaged with the world? Formed relationships with people? Or does he just sit in the corner rubbing his hands together menacingly and scheming his schemes.

Takaba unironically gives Kenjaku what he wants, something he's never seen before in a thousand years, and it's from a place Kenjaku never expected. Some random guy, who he dismissed as one of the boring modern sorcerers with no potential like Higuruma.

Takaba not only exists in Kenjaku's blindspot, he almost immediately points out Kenjaku's second hypocrisy. If he's willing to resort to mass murder just to feel entertained, then if he found something else to entertain him there'd be no reason to get violent and scheme his schemes.

In other words Kenjaku hasn't really gone looking for other places to try to find what makes life worth living, or at least enertaining, he hasn't really tried any alternatives to finding joy in life because Jujutsu is all he cares about. Takaba says that if he found something else even more entertaining than the merger there'd be no need to go through with the merger, and he turns out to be right. Kenjaku could have found meaning and entertainment with the world someplace else, he was just too narrow minded and never looked anywhere else.

As I said from the beginning Kenjaku's existential crisis comes from his inability to relate to other people and viewing them all as objects, but in Kenjaku's mind of course he can't relate to others they're too boring, so therefore it's the world's fault, and the fault of others and not himself.

However, right away one of those boring people starts relating to Kenjaku.

I joked about how we know nothing about the Gojo clan but Takaba gets an entire backstory chapter about his failed comedy career, but this chapter is plot important because jokes are the way that Takaba relates to and forms relationships with other people. Takaba makes jokes to relate to others but has a fallout with a comedy partner and has never been able to form a lasting relationship with a comedic partner because comedy doesn't mean the same to them as it does to him - because to Takaba comedy is about forming relationships with people. Which is why he thinks he's failed if he's failed to make everyone in the audience laugh because he wants to make comedy that will make other people relate to him and understand him.

However, he almost gives up on comedy because he's afraid that he might fail on that endeavor. He gives up on striving to make everybody in the audience laugh, because of self-affirmation and a desire to protect himself. He didn't want to fail so he started distancing himself from the audience under the excuse "Well, I can't make everyone laugh so it's okay if not everyone understands me."

Takaba at some point gave up on trying to use comedy as a means of understanding and relating to others, because of his fear of failure and at that point he nearly lost - but he rallies himself by saying that he won't give up on making someone like Kenjaku laugh. If his comedy is about connecting to others, about understanding others and having others understand him then he can't just give up on Kenjaku and say it's Kenjaku's fault that Kenjaku can't relate to his sense of humor. He's got to try even harder to make Kenjaku laugh.

This is also pretty much the opposite of Kenjaku's point of view. For Kenjaku it's everyone else's fault for being so boring that's why he can't relate to them. Wheras, Takaba takes personal responsibility, he wasn't funny enough, he has to try harder, he's the one who's going to make Kenjaku laugh by improving himself. Takaba looks inward, and Kenjaku looks outwards because there's nothing inside Kenjaku.

This is a parallel to this.

The difference however, is that Sukuna did not betray his ideology. Sukuna lives for the kicks that battle provides him and wants to face strong opponents so he can eventually devoured them and be momentarily entertained.

Like Sukuna is not bored the way Kenjaku is. The world is his playground. He may refer to living as just killing time until you die, but he also says that there's an infinite variety of humans to entertain yourself with. The world is Sukuna's toybox and he's satisfied with just that. In fact he doesn't even care about the merger, until his frustration with Yuji makes him think a little deeper about himself.

Kenjaku is not the Sukuna in this scene, he's the Gojo. He believed he was above others, only to be reminded suddenly that he was just the same as everyone else and brought back down to humanity. I mean, they even die off panel the same anticlimactic way. Gojo's infinity meant nothing in the face of one surprise attack a world-cleaving slash Gojo didn't see coming. All of Kenjaku's backup plans meant nothing in the face of Yuta camping and kill-stealing.

Kenjaku didn't lose because Yuta's plan of camping and killstealing was simply too brilliant for him to prepare for however, we're given the exact reason kenjaku lost - because he was having too much fun with Takaba.

Which meant what Takaba said earlier was true, if Kenjaku found something funnier, something other than the merger that could make him laugh there'd be no need to go through with the merger to begin with.

Kenjaku loses because all along he could have related to people, formed meaningful relationships with others, looked for meaning in life outside of Jujutsu but just chose not to. Which is also a parallel to this.

Sukuna says that Kashimo and Gojo both lost because they were greedy. They already received love in a way, they had the love of everyone who regarded them as the strongest, they had people who earnestly wanted to challenge them and respected them - which Sukuna sees as a form of love, and yet they still wanted more.

They were the ones who put themselves up on that pedestal and decided to stand above all of humanity, they don't get to whine about being lonely on top of that.

To add my interpretation to Sukuna's speech, what he's outlining is a general conflict in Jujutsu Kaisen, you can choose to be all ego to put personal development above everything else but it comes at the cost of not being able to form relationships. Maki's as powerful as Toji now, but the sister she always wanted to protect is dead and basically committed suicide. Meanwhile Noritoshi Kamo didn't participate in the final battle, but he reconnected with his mother and half-brother.

There are plenty of characters who die and suffer in jujutsu kaisen because they chose to value other people above themselves, because Jujutsu Kaisen rewards selfishness and punishes selflessness / having an underdeveloped sense of self.

I'll pick Mechamaru as my biggest example, he lived to protect Miwa, and not only does he die an unsatisfying death, he also breaks her heart.

However, at least Mechamaru experienced love. His desire to protect Miwa is granted, because Miwa is also out of the final conflict. Mechamaru is one of the most miserable characters in the manga, and yet he experienced love in his life for someone else that made his brief life meaningful. The characters who choose love, and other people over strength tend to get stepped on, but they at least had that love in their life to begin with.

It's a having your cake and eating it too situation. Kashimo chose strength over love, and he got to be so strong he was unbeatable and lived to old age, but not only is he unfulfilled but he whines about being unable to relate to the people around him - you're the one who chose to step on everyone like bugs.

Characters in Jujutsu Kaisen don't just experience death when they try to be selfless however, like yeah there's a disproportionate amont of selfless minor characters who die, but like Yuji is the most selfless character in the manga and he's continually punished for it and yet he's the one referred to as a person with an unbreakable will.

Rather instead of Jujutsu Kiasen preferring the selfish side on the scale of selfishness / selflessness, the kind of messy, deaths that get handed out to people like Mechamaru happen when you betray the ideals you were living for. Whether they were selfish or selfless.

It goes back to Toji's internal monologue. You lose when you lose sight of yourself - like there's some deaths that don't fit the mould but for the most part, Gojo, Kashimo, Toji's and then Kenjaku's deaths all follow this pattern. By coincidence they also all take place offscreen for the most part (I suppose we see Yuta cut off Kenjaku's head but it's quick and unsatisfying compared to all the rest).

Kenjaku died because he betrayed what he was living for and he temporarily lost sight of himself. As I said Kenjaku's airtight principles were that everyone was boring and people weren't worth relating too so the only way to find enertainment in life is to cause chaos - but he found himself relating to some nobody he wrote off as a minor character Takaba and having fun with him. Which meant the belief he was false, he could have tried relating to other people all along he just didn't.

He warped his sense of self to reaffirm his identity. Takaba almost did that too, he tried to blame other people for not finding him funny to protect himself, but he moved past that and redoubled his efforts to make Kenjaku laugh.

There's also the added layer of irony that Kenjaku's sudden death brings about, the person who spent a thousand years trying to make the merger happen doesn't get to see it.

However, here's my assertion on why Kenjaku's death before the merger always had to happen.

Because, even if Kenjaku had seen the merger he still would have been bored.

Literally everything about Kenjaku's character and previous actions shows that even if he made his big scheme come true, he would have gone "meh" and moved onto the next scheme because that's how he always reacts.

He got bored of the death painting siblings, he presumably got bored of Yuji, he got bored of all the ancient sorcerers and new sorcerers he made for the culling game, he worked with the disaster curses and got bored of them and dismissed them as inferior primitive curses, he goes out of the way to engineer these chaotic situations and then never feels any satisfaction from them so why would the Merger be any different?

Not only did Kenjaku die before he saw the merger, he was basically doomed to never see the merger, because it would not have fixed whatever is wrong inside of him.

Because it's not the world that's boring, it's Kenjaku himself.

He gets a brief glimpse of what he could have done in life, that he could have tried to forge connections with the people around him and related to them on a personal level - and then he dies the way he lived, in a kind of boring and unsatisfying way.

It's the narrative punishing him in a way, the same way it punished Gojo, and Kashimo, by not letting him see the big explosion after he went to all the trouble rigging the bombs. It's punishing him for the same reason too - by deviating from his true self and showing what he thought were his reasons were shallow all along. Gojo could have always related to people he just chose to stand on his pedestal alone, and Kenjaku could have always found the world to be more enertaining he was the one dismissing other people as boring without giving them a chance to grow.

Takaba confronted his beliefs and then stayed true to his ideology of making everyone, 100% of the people in the crowd laugh. Kenjaku didn't confront his beliefs, he strayed from them because he didn't have the strength of character to evaluate himself the way Takaba did.

Hence, he's finished off by one of those boring people who used their power in a way he never expected. The main villain is defeated by the comic relief character and it's hilarious.

#jjk meta #kenjaku #fumihiko takaba #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen theory #jujutsu kaisen analysis #jjk spoiler #jujutsu kaisne spoiler #big spoiler actually

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soapybutt17 · 1 month

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Lost In Ikea

Summary: John was a patient man, but he had his limits. That includes having to navigate his way around a maze you called IKEA and the impossibility of having to put the bloody bed together—his patience was even shorter after being interupted twice and a broken bed as an aftermath. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Katherine Price) Word Count: 1,066 Chapter Warnings: General Chaos. John gets cockblocked twice. Unedited. Lol. Author's Note: for @glitterypirateduck;s O'Captain! Challenge Scenarios:

4. Lost In IKEA 55. Someone gets walked in on (doesn't have to be sexual) 89. Shopping for a new bed.

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The frown has marred John’s face the moment he had placed the car on park and he was greeted by the annoying blue and yellow signage. It still confused him to no end why you insist on buying a bed in IKEA when he could make one himself.

“Are you excited to go to IKEA?” The gentle baby talk lingered besides him as he turned towards you whose attention was solely on your six month old daughter on the car seat.

It was another special occasion for the three of you aside from buying a new bed for them, you had also decided that it was time to invest on some more furniture and decoration for the baby’s bed.

John grumbled under his breath as he reluctantly got out of the car, following his wife as you handed him the sling carrier to carry your daughter. Without another word, he placed his daughter onto the carried on his chest and was greeted with the lovely grumble of his pride and joy.

“You’re the only thing keeping me sane now, Love.” He whispered gently kissing on top of her head before following his wife through the towering blue and yellow entrance.

The sprawling maze of Scandinavian furniture loomed before him like a daunting labyrinth, and he could help but feel a surge of irritation bubbling within him. Why can his wife just allow him to make the bloody bed or more specifically fix the one they had broken last night instead?

“Can’t we just order online like normal people?” John muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the chatter of shoppers around. He honestly hated being surrounded by people and having to act hyper vigilant because of it.

You turned to him in amusement, but a sympathetic glance lingered, you know all too well his disdain for crowded stores and aimless browsing. But you also know him enough to know he hated online shopping just as much.

“Come on, John. We’re just here for the bed and some decorations for Katherine’s bed.” You tried your best to reassure him.

But as you three continued to venture deeper into the seemingly endless aisles, John’s frustration only intensified. Every turned seemed to lead to yet another showroom, each meticulously staged to showcase the latest in minimalist design. He couldn’t help but scoff at the idea of spending hours wandering through fake living rooms and bedrooms.

"This is ridiculous," John grumbled, scanning the maze of shelves for any sign of escape. "How can anyone enjoy this?"

You chuckled rubbing his bearded cheek before kissing him on the cheeks, knowing there was only one way to placate him and his stormy mood.

“How about this,” You began pulling him towards one of the less populated showrooms. “How about once we’re finished with shopping for the bed and decorations, we can bring Katherine to your parents’ house for a few days so we could handle fixing the bed and redesigning Katherine’s room?” You wiggled your brows knowingly.

John was slowly cracking at the proposition.

“Three days. One day for creating that bloody bed and two days of whatever I want.” He proposed.

“How about a week and we fly your parents and Katherine to Disneyland?” You offered.

“Deal.” John shook your hands sealing the deal and your fate for the weak.

Even with the deal in place, John could not hide his annoyance. Meandering through the store, his annoyance grew with each passing moment especially when you three had found yourself walking in circles for a couple of times. The endless stream of shoppers, the blaring announcements over the intercom, and the overwhelming array of choices left him feeling claustrophobic and irritable.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity and the growing irritable baby on his chest, they had reached the checkout line with their items at hand. John let out a sigh of relief, eager to finally escape the chaos of the store.

“We are never setting foot in an IKEA again.” John muttered to you as soon as you three had exited.

“I hope you keep your word and keep the bed sturdy.” You pointed out knowingly.

John rolled his eyes, not wanting to remember the reason behind the broken bed in the first place.

Last Night

“Get out!”

John was close to a coronary at this point. It was the third time tonight that someone had interrupted him with his wife and he was ready to shoot anyone else that would try barging into his bedroom without bloody knocking.

“I told you to lock the bedroom door.” You giggled finding the whole thing amusing. Even with you barely clothed at this point just as much as him, you were barely affected by the fact that Gaz had seen the two of you almost having sex.

John had wished he had never brought the three to his home, he had wished no one knew about their relationship, and he had wished that his wife was not so hospitable as you were right now even after the incident that had now become a common occurrence when everyone was off base.

If only he could turn back time.

“If I had known that those Muppets didn’t know how to knock I would have.” He muttered, the mood now dampened with annoyance of being interrupted.

“Just lock the door and fuck me already.” You giggled, nudging him with your foot and he somehow sprang back to life at that.

Wasting no time, he got up and locked the door before jumping right back into devouring you. You were a giggling mess as he began to strip you of what remained of your clothes.

Even before John could begin, the sound of Soap’s laughter and the crying that came soon after from their daughter had finally sealed the deal that the moment was ruined permanently for the night.

“Bloody fucking hell.” John couldn’t help himself from cursing as you burst into fits of laughter as you stood up and slid on your night robe and opened the door to tend to your crying daughter and attempt to scold Soap from keeping it down.

Slumping his full body into the bed in frustration, the last thing John would have ever expected to happen was for the bed to give out under him further sealing his fate for the night.

“God fucking damn it.”

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odiesdayoff · 7 months

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Trust Your Instincts

pair: Jaime Reyes x fem!reader

summary: Post-graduation, your childhood friend seems to be ignoring you. Once he shows up, secrets are revealed, voluntarily or not.

warnings: SMUT (18+++ MINORS DNI); begins as like pretty dubious, but turns into both parties consenting. Really thin line here, they do have a mutual attraction and explicitly say that they want it.

im gonna be so real i saw an ad for this and started writing...lol. Haven't seen BB at the time of writing this a while ago! Characters are prob inconsistent. i just have like a severe mask kink.

honestly this is unfinished, but i know in my heart I will never get back to it no matter how many times I say it lol. Imagine what happens next teehee.

“He’s not coming?” You brought the towel from over your shoulder and continued to dry the plates as Jaime’s mother handed them to you. Lunch was over and you were excited to see your best friend, but he was awol.

She gave you a sympathetic look as she handed you another clean plate. “I’m sorry, mija. He’s been acting strange ever since he got back. I know he misses you.”

You nodded and placed the towel on the counter. There’s no way he could possibly just up and abandon you after all this time. The two of you had been best friends since the first grade and even though he went all the way to Gotham City for college and you stayed in Texas, you were still close as ever. At least you think so.

“Well, I’ve gotta go. Thank you for the lunch, you know how much I adore your cooking.” You brought her into a hug and she kissed your cheek. She was like a second mom to you. All of Jaime’s family was basically your own. It took this long for them to stop the teasing about you getting together.

It had been months since Jaime allegedly returned to Texas and yet, he hasn’t reached out to you. Not by phone or in person, no matter how much you tried to talk to him. It felt worse than any breakup you’d gone through. Usually, he was the shoulder for you to cry on.

A loud crash woke you up. It was around two in the morning. In your flannel pajama pants and a black tank top, you ran into your living room to see what happened. There was a large hole where your door should have been and laying on the floor was Jaime.

Your hand flew to your mouth and knelt down to him. His curls stuck to his forehead from sweat and his chest rapidly rose and fell. “Get away! Please, get away!” He pushed you away, yelling and borderline whimpering.

There was something wrong with him and you weren’t just going to do what he told you. “Jaime, please just tell me what’s going on. You’re not okay.” You pushed his hair from his face only to see the fear in his eyes as he looked at you.

He flipped to his back and crawled until he hit the wall, his body colliding into it. Another dent appeared. Chips of drywall fell on him. “I’m…gonna call an ambulance, okay?”

You pulled out your phone, but before you could even unlock it, it was no longer in your hand. Jaime, now fully covered in a blue suit of armor, crushed it in his hand. “Oh my god.”

He dropped the phone and shook his head. “I don’t control it. It controls me. I promise you.” His voice was slightly distorted due to the helmet he had on.

“Okay, so can’t you call, like, Batman or something?” If this were a normal situation, you know that he would’ve laughed.

He held your shoulders. “I need you to get away. Right now.”

You shook your head. “I’m not gonna leave you like this.”

A robotic voice came from the suit, saying your full name and society security number. Jaime started to shake his head frantically and tried to step away from you. The suit disagreed.

The suit trapped you against the counter. “Please stop!” Jaime yelled. His helmet popped open to reveal his face, still scared. “I’m so sor-” The suit didn’t let him finish, instead it pushed him towards you. His lips crashed into yours.

You felt guilty kissing back. It wasn't either of your volition, but the teenage version of yourself was screaming and frolicking in a field of flowers just to be kissing him.

The robotic voice returned, louder now. “It is my duty to keep you healthy. Sexual health is one of those aspects.” The suit retracted more, pulling his shirt and jeans from his body. He was left in his boxers, staring at you. It continued. “I know you have a crush on her. Don’t be a pussy.”

His eyes widened and his cheeks grew red. “Is that true?” He sheepishly nodded.

You bit your lip. “It’s true for me, too.”

#jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle #odiesdayoff

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anjaelle · 1 year

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hii, can you write a dave lisewski x reader where reader is new at school and he volunteers to give her a tour of the school. Dave thinks she is really pretty and wants to be her friend, he asks questions about her and finds out that she likes comics and superhero’s just like he does and he asks her to come to his house after school to watch a new marvel movie that just came out. she says yes and they watch the movie at his house. during the movie dave just can’t keep his eyes off of her and he’s so in love with her even though he just met her.The movie ends and he walks her home because it’s getting late and he doesn’t want her to possibly get into some kind of danger. when they make it to her house( he finds out that they live close to one another) she thanks him for being so kind to her and kisses him on the cheek. he blushes and wishes her a goodnight. from then on they become great friends and maybe even more. (SORRY THIS IS SO LONG, js wanted it to be detailed so it’s easier for you!!🤭)

@baddestdu0y3t

Pairing: Dave Lizewski x New Girl!Reader

Warnings: None. Except general teen awkwardness?

a/n: Ok so I'll be honest and say that I haven't written for highschool characters since I was a highschooler myself about 10-11 years ago. So I'm admittedly a bit rusty. I probably won't make this a regular thing, because I don't really think I'm good at it haha. And I changed some things around and cut some things out for brevity, but kept the important bits. It kind of feels like a coming-of-age romcom.

(gif source)

--x--

Dave would happily get stabbed and hit by a car twenty more times if it meant he wouldn't have to deal with the current situation he was in. He'd dripped oil from his bacon egg and cheese in his lap, and tried to clean the stain with soap and water, which created an almost bigger stain. The hand dryer in the mens room wasn't working, there were no paper towels, and he was running late to homeroom. Todd gave him a sympathetic pat on the back and offered the ever-helpful comment, "Don't freak. It'll dry eventually."

But it'd been a half hour, and it hadn't dried completely. A few people passed him with looks of disgust.

This day was already turning out to be shit, and it was only 9 AM. He shoved his head in his locker, wishing that a sinkhole would form in the middle of the school and swallow him whole. As the hallway cleared, he noticed you looking down at at a paper and distractedly walking in one direction before turning a corner and disappearing. You then turned back around and walked past him again in the other direction, with a furrowed brow and a pouting lower lip. When you turned to pass him a third time, he closed his locker and awkwardly leaned up against it.

"Hey! Are you lost?" He nearly shouted at you. You stopped short, startled out of whatever daze you were in, and looked at him as if you didn't even notice there was another person in the hall until now. Any plans he had to have a normal conversation left him immediately. He cut his eyes away from you. It was like staring into the sun.

"Hi." You re-adjusted your bag on your shoulder, "And yeah. This school is way bigger than my old one and I'm kinda turned around."

"Oh, yeah, totally, for sure. It's--yeah, it's big." He said awkwardly pulling at the straps of his backpack, "I mean, the school is big. The halls are big. It's a maze. Even I still get lost sometimes, and I've been here almost 4 years."

God, Dave, shut the fuck up.

You giggled at him and he felt his cheeks warm at the sound of it.

"Um, can you help me?" You asked, quirking your head to get a better look at him.

"Sure. Yeah, I can walk you to your next class."

You smiled at him and he smiled back, revealing the cutest dimples you'd ever seen.

"What about your class?"

He peeked at your schedule and his brows disappeared under the curls on his forehead, "We have the same homeroom. So we'll be going the same way."

He was very different from the boys you talked to at your previous school. You thought of what your old friends would say about him. You weren't super popular or anything, but you navigated most social spaces with relative ease. It also meant hiding a lot of yourself. Dave had a kind face and warm eyes that studied you with a sense of eager curiosity that flattered you. Incidentally, you were curious about him too.

When you introduced yourself to him and shook his hand, you noticed immediately how strong his grip was and his calloused palms. Most guys you knew with hands like those played contact sports. He didn't seem like the type, at first glance. He seemed to notice your surprise but didn't quite understand the reason behind it.

"Sorry if my hands are sweaty," he said, instinctively wiping them on his pants.

You rushed to ease his fears, "No they weren't! You're fine." And then, "Do you play sports?"

"Nope. I mean...sometimes I play Wii Tennis. I don't know if that counts though."

You giggled again, "I think that counts."

Interesting. Maybe he did woodworking or mechanic stuff like your dad. You made a mental note for later.

You both strolled down the hall in no real rush to make it to your destination as you talked. He was incredibly animated and spoke with his hands when he got into the groove of the conversation. And when you talked about your old school or your family, he actively listened and asked even more questions.

"You're really cool," he finally said, breathlessly. If you could visibly blush, you're sure you would've. You've been called a lot of things, but never "cool" with such earnestness. "I just wish I'd met you when I didn't have bacon stains on my pants."

He looked down at himself again and grimaced at his own misfortune. You could almost laugh at how resigned he was. Like this was just an everyday thing he had to deal with.

"You could just do what the girls do when we have stains on our pants," you suggested. He quirked a questioning brow and you motioned with your hands. "Tie your hoodie around your waist. It'll hide the stain pretty well, I think."

His eyes widened like you'd revealed the secrets of the universe to him, "I...didn't even think of that."

He immediately took his backpack off and dropped it to the ground to unzip his hoodie. When you noticed his tee shirt, you heard an eager gasp slip from you before you could really stop it. His shirt had the different sketched out iterations of Batman's costume designs over the years, which included a mix of his comic and movie suits.

"I just really like your shirt." You explained as he tied his sweater around his waist. "I was raised in a DC household. My dad has a big box of old school batman comics in our basement that I used to poke through when I was a kid."

His face lit up at your confession, "You like comic books?"

"I used to. I mostly just watch the movies now. The good ones, anyway." You said, shrugging. In truth, you hadn't picked a comic up since middle school. You missed reading them sometimes, but you never really had anyone to talk about them with. So you just stopped. You explained as much to him and he hummed in thought.

"Well, you can always talk about them with me. Do you like Marvel, too?"

You scrunched your nose up at him and he gasped.

"I'm sorry," you couldn't help but laugh at his dismayed expression, "I just think most Marvel movies are corny. And the comics can be a little soap opera-y to me. Maybe I'll give the comics another try, but I don't think I've seen any recent movies other than Black Panther and Thor Ragnarok."

When he thought about it, he couldn't really blame you for feeling that way, "If you had to choose, would you say that those were your favorites?"

"Nope," you admitted, "My favorite is Captain America: The Winter Soldier."

"And not Civil War? That one's my favorite."

You shook your head as you both approached the door to your homeroom, "I may have only seen it in parts. I don't really remember it."

He bounced on the balls of his feet nervously and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well if you wanted...we could watch it at my house next Saturday. Only if you want. My dad and my friend Todd will be there, so it won't be just us. But they won't be weird either. At least, I don't think so."

You smiled at him as he babbled on, only reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "Let me ask my mom. She might ask for your dad's number, if that's okay?"

A small smile graced his pretty face.

He nodded, "Totally."

Todd wasn't super happy with the idea of you joining their movie night. But Dave watched him warm up to you until you were both practically friends, too. He felt a twinge of jealousy at how quickly you two got along, but he summed that up to just how friendly and easy to talk to you were. He knew the movie front to back, so he couldn't help but watch you study the movie with deep interest to see how you reacted to his favorite parts. When all was said and done, the three of you sat in the living room discussing Civil War and if you were Team Cap or Team Stark. You all seemed to be in agreement that Tony was a war criminal who indoctrinated child soldiers. But you all were in disagreement about whether Tony deserved to have his ass kicked by two super soldiers.

"He literally didn't even know that he did anything wrong!" You argued to Todd, who rolled his eyes.

"You're only saying that about Bucky because you think he's hot."

"Maybe so," you admitted, "but my point still stands. He was brainwashed, he wasn't responsible."

"So you wouldn't be upset if I killed your parents, and Dave knew but hid it from you, and then beat you up when you found out?" The blond asked, popping a pretzel in his mouth, "I dunno. I'd be pretty upset."

"That's different, Dave would tell me." You responded with a coy wink at your new best friend.

Todd groaned, "You think he'd throw me under the bus for you?"

"I mean--" Dave cut in, pushing himself from the couch to stand to his feet and stretch, "--she is really pretty. And she smells nice. You're not as pretty and you just smell like Axe."

Todd gasped in mock hurt and you motioned to yourself as if to say "look at the material."

When 9:00 hit, you said goodbye to Dave's father who invited you and your family back for dinner, and hugged Todd goodbye.

"You're still wrong about Tony." He mumbled.

"You're in denial."

"You're In denial."

When you broke away to hug Dave he hesitated, "I was going to walk you home if that's okay with you. No pressure. I just...Uber is expensive on Saturday nights, and I know you don't live too far. But I don't want you to feel unsafe."

You noticed Todd shoot an odd glance at Dave before schooling his features. You made another mental note, but nodded.

"Sure, thanks."

You still weren't used to how long city blocks were. So even though you lived only a few blocks away, it felt like so much longer. Despite everything, you were surprised by how quiet this section of Manhattan was at night. Some people milled about, either going to or coming from someplace else. The air was brisk enough to add a jolt of energy to your system, but it still wasn't so cold that you felt any rush to get home.

"So what's up with the callouses?" You suddenly asked. Dave seemed confused by the question, so you grabbed his hand and held it up to him, then turned his hands over to show his reddened knuckles.

"Oh. I-I'm a...boxer. I box." He stammered, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Only my dad and Todd don't know. So don't, like, bring it up around them. They'd freak out."

You hummed, "Okay."

He let out a sigh of relief. A sharp gust of wind from a passing wind tunnel chilled you to the bone, and you looped your arm through his.

"Oh!" You said, surprised.

"Are you cold?" He leaned in closer to you, "We can walk faster if you want."

"I just..my hands are a bit cold." That didn't explain the way you were wrapped around his arm like a boa constrictor. But he didn't seem to mind. He shifted his hand in his sweater pocket.

"There's some room."

You felt your stomach flutter when his hand brushed against yours in his sweater pocket. The flutter turned into a rapid thud when his fingers laced through yours. Despite how ice cold your hands were, he didn't pull away.

"Is that okay?" He asked, shyly, fully prepared to move his hand if you objected. You gave his fingers a small squeeze.

"It's great, actually."

You carried on the casual conversation for another few blocks before stopping at a newly renovated brownstone. He realized then that your family definitely had more money than his.

"Here we are."

You slipped your hand out of his grasp when you realized you still had it in his pocket.

"So...I'll see you monday?" He asked, fidgeting with a loose piece of string on his sleeve.

"Of course."

"Awesome."

"Yeah."

You looked him over one last time before you parted ways. He was your first real friend since you moved, but you still felt like there was so much about him that you didn't know. Not because he was particularly secretive, but because you felt like there was more to him than he let on. You unconsciously reached up and moved a curl away from his eyes. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, in response.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing," you said, "I just think you're really cool, Dave Lizewski."

His smile bloomed into a wide grin, exposing the deep dimples in his cheeks. "You're cool, too. Probably the coolest person I know, actually."

Your heart was thudding in your ears when you leaned up to press a gentle, lingering kiss to his cheek. Before you pulled away, you heard him gasp softly in surprise.

You suddenly felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and checked to see that it was your mom asking where you were.

You usually let your mom know ahead of time when you were on your way home, but you felt uncharacteristically out of sorts. You shot her a quick text letting her know you were outside.

"I hate to do this," you said, finally breaking him out of his stupor, "I really have to go now. Mom's asking questions. Text me when you get home, okay, Curly?"

You gently touched his arm and climbed the steps of your house to the front door. He gave you a weak thumbs up, but he still stared at you with a shocked, flushed face. "G-gotcha."

"And don't forget."

"I won't. I promise."

When you finally shut the door behind you, you peeked out of the small eyehole to watch as he touched his face in surprise and walked down the street in the wrong direction.

#jaelle writes #aaron taylor johnson x black!reader #dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #atj x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader

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