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upsidedownmvnson · 1 year

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dungeons and douchebags | eddie munson

where eddie munson kills your dnd character out of spite & you end up in the hospital in the same day. eddie, of course, blames only himself.

full fic of this blurb :)

AN: i named the third guy keith bc he needed a name, and if his role was pre-established im SORRY but hes a mage. a lot of the dnd stuff im sure is wrong and doesnt work but let me live

also i love this so u should to

also also I KNOW ITS A SHITTY THING FOR A DM TO DO - thats the point

Eddie’s annoyed with you when you’re not on time for Hellfire.

You know he’s sensitive about starting on time, but still you were running late again, even though this time you promised it would be different, and you would even be early.

And Eddie had foolishly believed you again. It hurt especially, because even though you were just friends, Eddie was so painfully in love with you. All day every day, he was pining, yearning, longing. You were on his mind all the time, and you... you couldn't even bother to be on time for Hellfire.

When he begged you to be on time earlier in the day, he had made sure to mention that it would mean a lot to him if you were on time. And he thinks that if you love him back, you'll definitely care when he communicates something like that.

He knows he shouldn't let himself feel like this, but every Friday he's reminded that he's not special to you. He's not the one person you're always on time for. Eddie thinks, somehow, that if you're on time for Hellfire, well then maybe you like him too. It's silly, but it's what he does. It gets more painful as time goes on and you're still not there.

The mood slowly shifts to something tense as time ticks on. You’re always a couple minutes late but nearly an hour? Eddie is painfully frustrated, and his feelings are hurt. Eddie has overthught himself to a dramatic conclusion that you've decided you're above Hellfire.

While the party chats on totally unaware, barely even recognizing that they still haven't started, Eddie thinks you've looked in the mirror and recognized that you're better than them. That you can, and should, have everything and everyone you want. He thinks you'll want to be with a jock. Or maybe a cheerleader. He thinks you've decided not to love him.

In a fit of self pity and rage, he decides to leave your character behind, so the party left you alone, sleeping in a cave.

"Attention," Eddie says, "the sun is rising. It's time to pack your bags and move on."

Dustin looks confused, "where's y/n?"

"Who knows?" Eddie tries to look unamused to hide his pain, but it slips, and ends up just looking angry.

Eddie rolls a perception check for you to see if you wake up. He rolls an 18. And with your build you would've noticed the group leaving without you. Eddie is still think about you in the arms of a jock. "She fails." Eddie looks at the group with an evil grin. "You leave the camp unnoticed."

As the game goes on, Eddie feels crappy. He's never cheated like that before. Like, sure, he's changed a roll or two to make the plot better, or to not totally kill one of his players because some random NPC got a nat 20. That was his right as DM. But... leaving you like that was less than cool.

But even worse, when they return to the cave later, you're stuck in a bandit situation. Eddie really, truly, genuinely expected the party to save you. Except, one thing led to another, and you were stabbed through stomach, making you bleed out. Normally, this is where you'd roll your life saving throws.

It wasn't really supposed to play out like that. But he didn't expect the party to roll such terrible throws, all of them accidently leaving you defenseless. Eddie kinda feels bad, but you hurt him first.

What he doesn't expect is Steve Harrington bursting into the drama room, looking frenzied, just a few moments later. The party halts. The last thing happening in the game was the party finishing off the last bandit, and running to your aid. But now, they were all just staring at Steve. Eddie approached his friend, worried about the look in Steve’s eyes.

Steve stood up straight, and cleared his throat. Weakly he says, “something terrible happened.”

And then Steve tells them all about your car accident, and Eddie feels sick. His knees buckle, and Steve has to hold him up. He’s totally disoriented by this news. He feels his heartbeat pounding behind his eyes, and his ears ring loudly, barely registering the panicked talking going on around him

“They're alive,” Steve was shouting, but because people weren’t letting him talk, he had to keep shouting it over the hundred questions. They wouldn't be able to handle it. Not again. Not when Max still hasn't woken up. “Eddie? Can you hear me buddy?”

But Eddie was in shock. He was blaming himself. He killed you.

“Can you walk? I'll drive you,” Steve says, as Gareth searches Eddie's pockets for the keys to the van. “Dustin, get over here, help me get Eddie to the car.” Eddie overhears Jeff tell everyone to meet at the van.

As soon as they get moving, the adrenaline starts pumping through Eddie’s body. He was suddenly able to break free of his friends' aid and pick up his pace, and the three of them ran through the school and into the parking lot. The dim light Steve parked by was flickering, putting a weak spotlight on Eddie as he tugged the door handle on the passenger seat

“Let me unlock it,” Steve snapped, fumbling the keys in his hand. He dropped them, the pressure of Eddie’s stare was kinda terrifying. He got the door open and unlocked the others.

When they were in the car, Eddie was finally alert, if anything overaware.

“What the fuck is going on?” he snapped.

No one said anything. There was nothing they could say that would make Eddie feel better, or calm down. Steve sped out of the parking lot, blowing the stop sign. He really shouldn't have, given the whole reason you were in the hospital.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn't happening. He was wrong. He was being petty and he was hurt because he thought you were being a dick but you were - he was gunna throw up - you were somewhere bleeding. While he was busy killing you, you were actually laying on the asphalt after a violent car crash. And he was thinking you're an asshole

“Their character died,” Eddie said, “I've killed them.”

“It's not gunna happen,” Steve said, gripping the steering wheel. It was a statement he couldn't back up.

At the hospital, Eddie barely waited for the car to stop before he was running inside, tripping over his own feet as he rushed to get to you. dustin was hot on his trail and steve was parking the car.

Eddie saw Nancy with Jonathan over by the nurse's station, and when Nancy saw him, she came hustling over, putting her hands on Eddie's arms. Dustin spoke quietly with Jonathan in the background.

“Relax,” she said, “please breath. They’re okay right now, they’re in surgery, and it's going really well, okay?”

“Wheeler?” Eddie asked, eyes filling with tears he had no control over.

“It has to be fine,” Nancy said, “sit with me.” Nancy Wheeler was not going to lose another friend today. Not again.

And with no other options he listened, following Nancy to an uncomfortable plastic chair that squeaked when he sat. Nancy held his hand over the stiff arm rests, but he didn't find any comfort. He didn't think he would until he was with you again.

Jonathan sat beside Nancy, giving her a sad smile and handing her a bitter coffee. He sat quietly, letting Nancy give Eddie her attention. Dustin sat on the other side of Eddie, also opting to stay quiet. What was anyone supposed to say?

Honestly, the only thing Eddie wanted to hear was your voice.

Nothing changed for the first two days. But on the third day, the only change was in Eddie. He went from sitting quietly by your side to scribbling stuff in a notebook like a crazy person. He would also dip out to go use a library computer, or "check on some things," as he explained to Nancy.

Her and Steve were mutually concerned about Eddie's state. He was constantly babbling about saving you, and how he's figured it out they just have to succeed.

Everyone else got a chance to be worried when they got a call Tuesday saying there was a mandatory Hellfire meeting and anyone not in attendance would be left behind, and unwelcome for the rest of the campaign. He couldn't risk a single missing member. Not with the stakes...

Tuesday evening, Gareth, Jeff, and Keith are the first to arrive. They are curious as to what the hell their bandmate had cooked up, but they were more worried than excited. Eddie hadn't exactly been himself the last couple of days.

They don't expect a set up even more elaborate than usual. The lights are red and blue, making the room feel eerie, and small.

"Welcome to Hell," Eddie said, grinning and holding his arms open wide.

Gareth and Jeff exchanged a look, but were too nervous to speak. Eddie didn't want to explain the objective twice, so he waited for the rest of the party to arrive before he said anything, but the look in his eye feels sinister. His friends suddenly realized how truly fucked Eddie would be if anything happened to you.... like... for keeps.

When the rest of the party is there, they look to Eddie expectantly, but he just continues to smile like a maniac and tells everyone to take their seats. Dustin is confused to see Steve Harrington sneak into the room and lean against the wall.

"I cheated," he says when he has the attention of the flock, "y/n didn't fail the perception check, and therefore their death wasn't fair. However, death is death. So we're going to have to bring them back."

Dustin notices that Steve Harrington's presence is not explained.

Nancy sits at your bedside like she has for the better part of the last four days. She holds a book in one hand, and the other rests casually beside you, near your hand. She looks at you, and then her hand. She gets a supernatural chill.

She puts her book down, and speaks your name quietly, looking for any sign of life from you. One more day of your glass features and she was going to crumble. Nancy shakes the bizarre feeling from her head, and pats your hand.

She shocked when you're ice cold to the touch. She recoils, pulling away fast. But after the initial shock fades, she touches you again. There was no way that was right, right? You were freezing. What the hell was that about? Nancy starts a search for a blanket to warm you up.

A mage freezes your body. The party scavenges for anything that can help and then leave the cave, your frozen body in tow. Another player can't make life saving throws for you, so they were thinking outside the box. They would take you deep, deep into an ancient necromancer's lair, and steal the resurrection stone from around his neck.

Nancy returns with a simply grey blanket, and a very friendly nurse. They had gotten to talking, and Nancy has simply explained how cold you had been, having not thought too much of it. The nurse, Sophie, had decided to come check it out too.

"Oh my gosh," Sophie says, feeling the ice cold skin. "Oh my gosh, she's like ice!"

And leaves Nancy feeling a little worried as she scurries out of the room. It was like she'd never seen anything like it. Nancy feels uneasy, and makes a quick phone call from your bedside phone. Jonathan picks up, and as soon as he hears the concern in her voice, he's on the way.

Nancy hangs up, picks the phone back up, and calls Steve. He picks up on the first ring.

"Something is like... actually happening over here," she whispers, shocked to even be saying it.

"No shot," he says, nearly laughing at the idea. He whispers the next part so the group doesn't hear anything, "I thought we agreed Eddie was just crazy, and this whole 'saving her character will save her' was just to show him that he didn't cause all this."

"I know we did," she said, "but y/n is cold as ice."

Eddie's voice booms as he narrates the perilous journey. After trap rooms, fighting devil dogs, two gargoyles, and a Molydeus that nearly killed Mike. They had made it into the inner sanctum, but had all failed to roll perception upon entering, and set off a fire trap. One that melted the spell on you, leaving you warm enough to die. "Hurry!" Dustin shouted, "engage the necromancer! Hit 'em with everything we got."

Nancy is already back into her book, Jonathan sitting on the floor beside her, leaning his head against the armrest, while she dangles a dainty arm over his shoulder, letting it lay relaxed on his chest. A single beep draws her attention. She notices something different, but she can't say what. Your cheeks are rosy.

Nancy brings her hand off of Jonathan, drawing his attention too. She puts a cool hand against your forehead, and is again shocked by how you feel. You're burning up. You're fucking hot. Like boiling. Nancy runs to find Sophie again.

The turn is Keith's, his mage more powerful than the others, but instead turns his attention to your character. "I cast flesh to stone on y/n!" the mage shouts. "She'll die if she stays like this." "Roll for it!" "18!" "Pass!" Your body is frozen again, this time encased in stone. Another stall, and Eddie knows the party is running out of time.

"You have to feel her head," Nancy says, speed walking with the bubbly nurse hot on her trail. Sophie complies, and gasps.

"It's not possible," she says quietly, "I'm getting the doctor. There's something strange about your friend."

Nancy looks down at you, and jumps out of her skin when the machines start beeping wildly. All of them making different noises, all of them loud. Sophie rushes back in, with more staff behind her. Nancy and Jonathan are ushered out of the room by a woman who explains that you're in a code blue, which means they have to resuscitate you.

Nancy looks around the white hallway. She's overwhelmed and underpaid.

"Stay here," she tells her boyfriend. "This is crazy!"

But she runs off before she explains anything else. She's after a phone, which she finds with no trouble. She fishes a quarter out of her pocket, and uses it to call Steve again. He picks up as fast as last time, desperate for something other than watching dnd.

"Whatever they're doing, tell them to hurry up!" she's shouting, drawing the attention of patients and staff around her. "Something's happening! She's not breathing!"

The necromancer stands injured. The party cornering him, making him cower. He trembles, and begs for his life. He explains that the party came to his home, killed his people, and now wish to rip off the very thing that keeps him alive. "I stab him through the heart, and I take the necklace." Dustin says. As he looks at Steve, he thinks he understands what's going on. "Roll." "For what?" "Dexterity." Dustin rolls his die. The table is silent. The little D20 lands. the group erupts when they see the Nat 20 he rolled, effectively grabbing the necklace and throwing it around your neck from a metre away like horseshoe. As it lands on you, the ground shifts under the party's feet. Everyone stares in silence, both in the campaign and real life. Your character opens her eyes, coughs, and rises.

The party roars to life at the table, cheering at a job well done and slamming hands on the table in excitement. But the cheers are short lived, silence coats the room but this one is different. It's serious, eery. They can see that Steve looks worried, and he's trying to get Nancy to answer him, but he's getting nothing. looking at Steve expectantly. Apparently, everyone had figured out what the plan was. They all knew they were trying to wake you up. Steve says nothing. Just hangs up the phone, looking up with a disappointed frown.

"The line went dead."

Steve is once again driving Eddie to the hospital. And he's a nervous wreck. You're like schrodinger's cat. Eddie doesn't know if you're alive or not. He chews on the side of his thumb during the entire ride. The rest of the club was waiting patiently in the drama room. Eddie and Steve promised to call as soon as they knew anything.

Eddie can't fucking breath as he sprints down the hospital hallways, ignoring every sign and person telling him not to. He doesn't care. He has to get to you.

Wheeler is outside your room talking to a doctor, but with her back to him he couldn't see the bright, beautiful smile on her face talking excitedly about your miraculous recovery. Eddie runs right passed her to your room, and uses the doorframe to propel himself in, scaring both you and Jonathan who had been sitting quietly.

You look pale, and there are bags under your eyes. But you're sporting a weak smile, shaky hands holding a cup of lime jello. Eddie can't help but smile. You're awake, sitting up, and smiling at him. He has to laugh at the like, ten empty jello packages. Jonathan slips out the door without a word, and Eddie takes his seat by your bed.

"I was so fuckin' scared," Eddie says, tears falling from his eyes before he could even process it. He hadn't realized.

You hold your hand out for him and whisper, "Eddie," and he looks up, puppy dog eyes glossy with lingering tears, and heartbreaking to see. He takes your hand. "You didn't do this."

And he cries harder, leaning down and holding your hand to his forehead and begging your forgiveness anyway. "I did," he cries, "out of spite and jealousy, I tried to hurt you, and I did. I let them leave you alone. I made them and I cheated-"

"-Eddie-"

"-and you should've seen the party-"

"-Eddie, seriously-"

"-leaving because you totally passed the, ow, hey!"

You had flicked him on the nose, his babbling giving you no other choice, but as usual he was being dramatic, you hadn't actually hurt him at all.

"Eddie, stop, and listen to me," you say, "you didn't do this. You're not actually all powerful, you know that, right?"

"But-"

"But nothing," you say, smiling. "But Nancy told me that you saved me so no hard feelings."

Eddie smiles back at you, letting you wipe the tears leftover on his flushed cheeks. He leans into your touch and your heart swells. In your mind, you beg him to kiss you. You beg and plead and hope that this will be the time he makes a move.

He knows this is his chance, he leans closer to you, slowly, gauging your reaction. "Is this okay?" he whispers, when he's just an inch from your lips. You feel his breath as he speaks and you can't resist, pushing yourself forward to close the gap. And he kisses you like he's kissed you a hundred times before. Like he already knows everything you will like, even before you do. His lips are so fucking soft against yours, all plush and warm and taking over your senses.

"Well, I guess I can tell the others that you're fine," Steve says, and Eddie pulls away from you. His sudden absence is cold.

"I saved her," Eddie says, grinning. "Nancy said so."

the hair on the back of will's neck having a disco party during this entire fic

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fiction #stranger things s4 #stranger things #stranger things 4

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sturn3 · 8 days

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𓂃 ࣪˖ situationship with athlete!matt &cheerleader!reader ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

★ no one knew about you two.

★ matt had quite a busy schedule. trying to balance out his football &youtube career and his grades all in one. so he wasn't looking for anything serious...

★ every game you'd steal glances at one another. whenever he'd catch you looking, you'd turn around and resume to your conversation with the other cheerleaders. when you'd catch him looking ,he'd turn around and kick the ball and shoot a goal trying to impress you.

★ for someone that didn't want to a relationship with you, he sure fought over you, a lot. picking fights with everyone in the locker rooms that would make comments about you in a sexual manner. or attack his opponents that he previously peeped trying to get a conversation out of you. even if he didn't want anything serious with you, he didn't want anyone else to have you either.

★ safe to say, he always led you on. dedicating secret goals to you at every game, texting you past 10pm to meet up, whispering sweet nothings to you just so he could have you for the moment.

★ after the big game day, you rushed out to meet him in the dark parking lot ,immediately recognizing him leaning against his truck. he looked amazing. wet hair from the shower he must've just taken, simple white tee that was tight around his biceps, defining them even more and some grey sweatpants.

★ when he saw you approaching him, he felt as if the air in his lungs had ben knocked out. every time he sees you, he swears ,you get prettier. finally, you reached him and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "You did so good today, handsome." you praised, and he gave you a shy smile.

★ as soon as you guys got in the car, all that could be heard were your heavy breaths and skin slapping.

★ when your passionate moments came to an end, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by your emotions. instantly, you started thinking maybe you should distance yourself.

★ a few weeks after that...

★ you were at a house party to celebrate your school's victory. you ignored matt like the plague. stopped replying to his texts, stopped answering his calls, not viewing his stories and changing paths every time you crossed him. that truly pained him. so, when he saw you stroking someone's bicep and giggling at someone else's joke, he saw red. wanting to drag you away from here and punch this dude. HIS girl laughting at another man's joke. ridiculous.

★ when you'd finally had enough of that random dude whose name you honestly could not remember for the life of you, you went to sit outside on the porch.

★ matt took that as an opportunity to talk to you. he hated that you ghosted him as if he meant nothing.

★ "what do you want, Matt?" you said as he stood behind you. he was surprised at how you could feel his presence. "to talk," he said.

★ "i don't believe we have anything to say." you replied as you got up, at the same time pulling your skirt down as it rode up from the movement, you began to walk away.

★ as one could imagine, matt had enough. he ran after you and grabbed your hand to pull you against him. suddenly being chest to chest with him, you were so close you could feel his breath, you were so close you thought he could hear your heart about to explode.

"why do you keep running away from me?"

"cause i don't wanna get hurt."

"so, you resort to hurting me instead??"

"look, matt, i'm sorry, i can't do this." you said again as you began to walk away from him for the hundredth time.

"no ,stop." he said, pulling you back in "you don't get it. i'm in love with you."

"no, matt. you're not."

★ as soon as you said that, he grabbed your face in his two hands to pull you in for a passionate kiss. if you thought that any kiss you had previously shared was good, this one was better than all of them combined.

"you better not be messing with me, matthew. i KNOW people," you threatened with a smile on your face as you lay your head upon his chest outside the party.

✧ ﾟ୨ৎ*💋🍒🎱⋆｡ﾟ

^ lowkeyyyy inspired 💋💋

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #Spotify

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weirdmarioenemies · 7 months

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Name: Bulbie

Debut: Pikmin

Pikmin 4 has a doggone good time being as doggy of a game as it can! I'm sure you are well aware by now of the new Funny Weird Dogs!

And I love these weird dogs! They are wonderful. I'm glad they are so important and beloved. But I would like to focus on a different dog, the very first Pikmin Dog, who we have known about since the very first game! Olimar's dog, Bulbie!

With this, I have shown you both official images of Bulbie that exist. I wish there were more! Bulbie is a dog even weirder than Oatchi and Moss, a whole different kind of critter that also happens to get called a dog. Isn't that great? These people have the concept of "dog", and so far we've only seen it used to refer to these funny bipeds! Olimar has no problem referring to both Bulbie and Moss as dogs, so I am led to believe that "dog" is more of a category of creature to these people, rather than a distinct species. Like how "mole" is a category of creature to us!

We know a precious little bit of Bulbie Lore. He is lazy, and able to sleep anywhere. He loves carrots. He farts a lot. That's about all we know. Awesome! Sure sounds like a Dog to me! And of course, Olimar loves Bulbie very much. Just like he loves his whole family! He is a Family Guy, complete with Funny Dog!

You may already know, or you may have noticed yourself, but Bulbie looks quite like a Bulborb. This is because Olimar named these creatures after Bulbie, due to their resemblance! It is also for this reason that they are members of the Grub-Dog Family. You see? Bulborb is just like a dog! While it is sweet of Olimar to name the species after Bulbie, it must also make his encounters with them even more disturbing. Not only is this a (comparatively) massive, hostile beast that could easily eat him whole, but it looks like his beloved little friend! That's like a nightmare! Especially with other, scarier Bulborb variants! I am happy to know that his Bulborb experiences do not affect his love for Bulbie one bit.

As much as I love and talk about invertebrates and funny fish, dogs have always been among my favorite animals, and always will be! They're an extremely conventional animal to love, and for very good reason. They're wonderful! And on this post about Weird Dogs, I would like to talk about how dogs are, in fact, weird in their own ways.

They're always sniffing with their wet noses, which they keep wet to smell even better. They love to lick, and lick to show love. And that love is such an important thing! Dogs are creatures of love! It is our love for dogs that shaped them into what they are today! It is what drove us to shape this single subspecies into countless distinct caricatures of its noble ancestors. All still members of the very same species! The amount of dog customization that has occurred is ridiculous. Need a better way to hunt badgers? Make a Long Dog. Yeah sure! Why not!

Obviously, most dachshund owners today aren't interested in hunting badgers. They are interested in having a Pet. And a Pet Dog is such a truly incredible thing! There are not many animals that should be kept in a house around humans, but then there is Dog, literally born to be among humans. Born to be loved, and born to love! If you don't think that's one of the most wonderful things ever then get outta here!

This is an animal that runs around and spins in circles because it sees an ape that it loves so much. An animal that ends up learning snippets of human language, because those are the snippets that make it happy. An animal that gleefully exposes its vulnerable underside, because it trusts a member of a different species to rub it in just the right way that feels so nice.

Even with the general consensus on dogs being pretty dang favorable, I feel that it's easy to take a lot of their behavior and history for granted, to see them as the "default animal", when they SO aren't. The default animal would be a parasitoid wasp, silly!

If I was not able to convince you that dogs are weird, then just look up canine transmissible venereal tumor, obviously using your own discretion, because there will be graphic photos. If you ask me, this one medical anomaly easily makes dogs a contender for one of the weirdest animals EVER! Bet you didn't know dogs could be contagious!

I like funny dog Bulbie

#bulbie #pikmin #bulborb #dogs #not mario #funky friday #mod chikako

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lonely-cowboy · 4 months

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breaking point

pairing: connor (rk800) x gn!reader

summary: to prove which of you is the better detective, you and connor like to play a little game. this time around, connor is more determined than ever to reach your breaking point.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: nothing but wildly ooc connor, it’s just them yapping away and being arrogant lil assholes

author's note: do i like this? not at all. am i gonna blame it on the fact it's 1am? sure. i just wanted to write smth ok, leave me alone

masterlist ⟡ requests

The best days at the precinct were the ones with no work. No crime scenes to investigate, no files to sort, no nothing. But they weren’t your favorite because you hated your job and the workload (quite the opposite, actually). No, they were your favorite because you could have some alone time with Connor, playing the little game you always did.

As head forensic psychologist, you were primarily tasked with interviewing suspects and analyzing their reactions. Your job got a lot harder when Connor joined the department, making your job look so much easier than it actually was.

Rather than view him as your rival, you viewed Connor as a challenge. You wanted to prove (to yourself more than anyone else) that you were just as good at your job as any android. Besides, you respected Connor’s interrogation process far too much to hate him. Or rather, you liked watching him during his interrogation process. Really, you just liked watching him in general.

When there was no work and the precinct was nearly empty, you and Connor were allowed to take over the interrogation room. You would sit across from each other, doing everything you could to make the other break in a mock interrogation.

It was there that you found yourself, hands neatly clasped atop the table and brow raised in arrogant curiosity. Connor stood opposite you with his palms pressed against the table, scrutinizing you with narrowed eyes. His eyes scanned over you as he tilted his head in that annoyingly endearing way before pulling back and rubbing his hands together in thought.

“Do you believe Lieutenant Anderson is a good mentor?” Connor asked.

The two of you always asked each other meaningless questions, doing your best to refrain from answering or to successfully lie to the other. At this question, you remained silent for a moment longer than you should have.

“Yes,” you replied simply, offering a nonchalant shrug in an attempt to throw Connor off.

“You’re lying,” he accused immediately.

“I would never,” you retorted. “I’m offended you would think so.”

Connor ceased his questioning to eye you suspiciously. His eyes trailed over your body for any indication of discomfort or nervousness. You hoped he wouldn’t find any.

“The brevity of your response and lack of natural movement suggest you’re lying,” Connor said as he studied you again. “You believe you’d be a better mentor than Lieutenant Anderson, don’t you?”

“In some aspects, yes,” you answered truthfully. After all, to lie properly was to occasionally tell the truth.

Connor nodded along with your response, noting the way you remained unaffected despite being caught in a lie. He would need to do something more to break you, something that would make you sweat.

Your gaze followed Connor as he started to pace the length of the room. Your attention was drawn to his LED as it flashed quickly between colors. Blue. Yellow. Red. Red? Yellow.

The occasional bright red made your brows furrow. Was he really that stumped? He couldn’t think of a single way to break you? You doubted it. Something else must have been on his mind, your thoughts racing at what could have him so conflicted.

“Connor,” you whispered hesitantly.

The sound of his name seemed to snap him back to attention. Connor immediately stopped pacing and fixed you with a steady gaze as if he had come to a decision. With careful steps, Connor rounded the table to stand beside you. He leaned against the table and looked down at you with his arms crossed confidently.

“You’re hard to break, aren’t you?” he murmured.

The crease between your brows deepened as your confusion grew. You were puzzled by Connor’s sudden proximity and the low tone of his voice.

“Well, I… I guess it’s part of the job,” you said softly.

Connor nodded and agreed simply, “Truth.”

Another beat of silence passed as Connor did nothing but watch you. His eyes flitted about your figure, though it seemed as though he wasn’t analyzing you this time around. It was like he was looking at you just to look at you.

“Do you find enjoyment in our little game? In successfully lying to me?” Connor inquired.

You were hesitant to answer, your confusion outweighing any thought. When you did speak, your voice cracked slightly when you answered, “Yes.”

“Do you find enjoyment in other ways from our game?” he continued.

“No.”

“Lie.”

You couldn’t help but stare at Connor. You wanted to tear your gaze away from his desperately, but there was something so appealing about the hardness of his typically gentle eyes.

When you didn’t answer, Connor raised his brows and leaned forward expectantly. The intensity of his gaze made you suddenly nervous, your heart racing as you moved to fidget with your hands.

“I need a truthful answer, Detective,” Connor stated firmly.

He knew the answer. He knew you were lying. He just wanted you to say it. There was no point in denying anything now.

“Yes.”

Connor hummed and finally pulled his gaze away from you, allowing you to sigh in relief. There was something in his eyes that made you… inexplicably anxious.

“Can you elaborate?” Connor prodded after a moment.

“I can,” you replied quietly. “But I don’t want to.”

At your refusal, Connor’s attention snapped back to you, the crinkle in his brow suggesting his mild surprise.

“Why is that, Detective?” he urged. When he got no response, only your steady gaze locked with his, he continued. “Are you worried it may incriminate you?”

“No,” you replied calmly.

Admittedly, you were very proud of yourself for keeping such an unperturbed composure. Your face remained tranquil and your voice confident. But your external composure meant nothing, not when it was Connor interrogating you. He could detect your pounding heart and uneven breaths with ease. You bet he could even sense the claminess of your palms.

“Lie.”

You weren’t entirely sure why you even attempted to lie anymore. Connor was a walking polygraph, he could see through any of your lies no matter how believable they were.

But being as stubborn as you were, you refused to admit that Connor was right. Instead, you sucked in a slow breath and pressed your lips in a thin line, eyes locked on Connor the entire time. Your stubbornness made him frown, though you knew it was a quality he had always admired.

“Fine. If you won’t tell me yourself then I’ll just have to guess,” Connor shrugged with mock defeat. He pretended to think for a moment, lips pursed in a way that made your eyes dart to his mouth. “Is it because you find superiority in besting me?”

Connor started tame. Anyone would feel superior after besting an android, he was well aware of that. And you knew he was aware. What was he trying to get at?

“Yes, partially,” you said, cursing yourself for admitting that it was only part of the reason you found your mock interrogations so enjoyable.

Connor seemed unphased by your answer as if he already knew there was more to your enjoyment. He sat in quiet deliberation again, though he had already settled on his next question.

“Is it because you’re attracted to me?” Connor questioned innocently.

Connor was smart, you knew this. You knew this and still thought that maybe– just maybe— he wouldn’t be able to guess correctly.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing away from Connor, knowing that it only made you look more suspicious. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes focused on the wall in front of you.

“Detective?” Connor pressed as he waited patiently for an answer.

You startled at the light touch of his hand on your chin as he slowly turned you back to him. He kept a gentle but firm grip on your chin, looking down at you questioningly. The feeling of his skin against yours didn’t help at all. It only worked to accelerate your heartbeat, which Connor immediately took note of.

“Your heart rate has increased by 32%, Detective,” Connor observed. “An increased and irregular heart rate is typically a sign of nervousness. Are you nervous?”

“You know the answer,” you mumbled.

“You’re right, I do,” he confessed easily. “But I want to hear it from you; are you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Because I was correct in assuming you’re attracted to me?”

You inhaled slowly, working up the nerve to answer. But there was no point, you both knew your answer. He knew. You knew. It felt like everyone in the precinct– everyone in the world– knew.

“Yes…”

The corner of Connor’s lips quirked into a satisfied smirk having successfully broken his most stubborn participant. He slowly pulled his hand away from your chin, resting it flat against the tabletop. His arrogance sparked something inside you, compelling you to act unnaturally bold.

“Fine, you win,” you grunted, rising from your seat. “Congratulations.”

Without much thought, you reached for Connor’s tie and yanked him into you, smashing your lips against his. Your hand was tight around his tie, your nerves seeping into your grip. You pulled away sharply, only allowing him a quick kiss before your nerves could fully return. You released his tie and gently pushed his chest to put some distance between the two of you.

“There’s your prize,” you hissed, though you both knew there was nothing menacing behind your tone.

It was Connor’s turn to feel flustered, finally. His cheeks were coated with a faint blush, his eyes wide and utterly perplexed. His lips were still parted slightly like he was savoring the feeling of your lips against his. Unease boiled in your chest the longer Connor did nothing.

But the look in his eyes settled any feelings of insecurity. He looked entirely infatuated with you. And when he spoke again, that infatuation only made itself clearer.

“If this is my prize, I’ll have to win more often.”

#detroit become human #connor x reader #dbh connor x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh connor #connor rk800

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orchidbreezefc · 10 months

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i wanna talk about haymitch abernathy.

well, first i wanna talk about the treatment of chemical addiction in the hunger games trilogy. because it's good. a lot of characters, including katniss, struggle with it. it gets explored in considerable depth, and not once is any character looked down on for it (well, aside from some eye-rolling with haymitch and perhaps pity for the 'morphlings' in book 2).

no one is infantilized, dehumanized, or considered weak for their dependency, even when they're incoherent from inebriation or withrawal. addicts are treated with dignity, and there is only ever respect, understanding, and sympathy for their struggle and for the trauma that led them to this position. the story has no interest in scrutinizing how they got there or whether their behavior is sufficiently justified, only in meeting them where they are.

everyone has suffered at the hands of the capitol, and some people have resorted to substances to cope--even and especially smart, competent people. it's unfortunate and painful for them (and the focus is always on the addict's suffering, not anyone else's) but it's always understood as doing what they had to do. survival is a crucial theme in these books, and this is just another form of it.

this understanding extends to the point that katniss and peeta independently hoard liquor in case haymitch runs out. he's fucking annoying and rude and at that point they have no reason to believe they stand to gain anything from helping him, but they do it anyway because abandoning him would be cruel. it's not ever a question of enabling an alcoholic, it's a question of not letting a man fucking die of withdrawal.

see, rough around the edges is an insufficient description for haymitch; he's rough all the way to the middle. he is a messy, sloppy drunk. he is rude, obnoxious, and venomously cynical. he is also the smartest character in a series full of extremely smart characters.

in the first book all that is said about haymitch's victory is speculation from katniss and peeta. they note that he isnt a standout physical talent and doesnt have any specialized abilities, and deduce that he must have won by outsmarting the others. this is innocuous enough and supported by the shrewdness of haymitch's sponsor gifts and his coaching outside the games.

the recontextualization comes in book 2 when we learn haymitch was the victor of the 50th hunger games, the last quarter quell--which had twice as many tributes as usual. haymitch didn't outsmart 23 other people, up to a third of them having trained for this exact purpose until age 17. haymitch outsmarted 47.

haymitch abernathy? is a big fucking deal. that man waltzed in from The underdog district, unmentored and presumably earning approximately zero sponsor gifts with his winning personality, and won the hardest hunger games there has ever been. haymitch is the most impressive bitch in panem. between this and our increasing insight into how the victors are treated, the alcoholism gets recontextualized too.

imagine how frothingly fucking pissed the capitol is that haymitch is impossible to leverage for any PR purpose whatsoever. like, this is The victor, but what are they gonna do? show off the victor of the hardest hunger games of all time and he's fucking haymitch?

he shows up to every public appearance fall-down drunk and pukes on someone's shoes. every time he's on screen he embarrasses everyone. he makes the hunger games look like a joke and undermines the whole premise. he's supposed to be the capitol's biggest asset and he's pissed all over it. he's useless to them. the best thing they can do is leave him alone.

that's when you think, wait. that's kind of a rebellion in itself, huh? he defies the capitol's efforts to use him as 'a piece in their game' better than anyone else outside district 13, maybe them too, when he should be their favored pawn. he's about as free of their influence as anyone can be. that seems... smart. haymitch-typical smart.

haymitch's alcoholism is real and no doubt a legitimate result of his trauma, but it's also a weapon. he probably plays it up. gets extra trashed for every public appearance, the earlier in the day the better. asks himself what he could do that would horrify effie trinket the most and then does that.

at the same time, haymitch seems to get it together more as the series goes on. from the sound of it he was content to drink himself to death and blow off every tribute in his district before katniss and peeta came along and he recognized in them the potential for revolutionaries and, more importantly, the potential for victors. for the first time he had a real chance to achieve a goal, and the real necessity to be sharp for it.

my guess is that haymitch started making actual efforts to manage his alcoholism from then on. getting sober is pretty much impossible to do on your own, and indeed he has a relapse for every time he improves. but haymitch would have known he'd need any scrap of competence he could snatch. and i think, away from our heroine's perspective, he did. you can play drunk for a camera; you can't play sober for a planning session.

the one thing that really helps with addiction is a support network, and that's the one thing haymitch can never have. it is made blisteringly clear that your loved ones are so much ammunition for the capitol to use against you, and they desperately need some for haymitch. he says his loved ones are all dead, but one wonders if there were more that he made damn sure were no longer loved ones before that happened. maybe haymitch saved some lives by driving people as far away as he could, and doomed himself to succumb to the alcoholism in the process.

on a sillier note, i imagine during katniss and peeta's games haymitch would have needed someone to manage his intake and keep him sober enough to strategize the sponsorships without sending him into withdrawal. and i like to think it was effie trinket.

she'd disapprove at first but dosages and scheduling would be her JAM. plus haymitch would always cave in to her sanctimonious lectures before she caved in to his demands for more. it would be really motivating, actually--"i can endure this. anything's better than hearing one more fucking word from effie goddamn trinket about my health." truly the dream team.

tl;dr i fucking love haymitch abernathy. he's one of the characters of all time. thank you, suzanne collins, for this smart, competent, callous, mean, complex alcoholic who is vital to the revolution. thank you for writing addicts and addiction with the depth, seriousness, complexity, and respect they deserve as human beings.

#the hunger games #haymitch abernathy #just finished the books let's goooooo #addiction cw #alcoholism cw #alcohol cw #substance cw #meta #sage speaks #sage original post #long post #thanks to wyn and hazel especially for helping me hammer out these thoughts. and for the effie headcanon it is actually genius #thg #spoilers through the end of catching fire i guess #hunger games #i do meta now maybe #greatest hits

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staerplatinum · 26 days

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Some of my favorite doodles from my headcanon/redesign concept sheets used as an excuse to list my headcanons about the main six (for an AU that I'm writing)! More under the cut!

Charlie Morningstar:

She's way more hot-headed than in canon, albeit still keeping her cheerful and gentle persona.

She loves food, and she's always hungry. I always loved the trope of protagonists (both male and female, like look at Goku himself, Usagi Tsukino or Minako Aino) and I think it could fit Charlie perfectly!

She loves planning (and this is already canon) and she has a lot of stationary gadgets. "Sure Alastor, you can borrow any pen! ... Not that one! :D" And takes good care of them.

Her birthday is February 29th. I thought that it wouldn't be strange if her birthday ended up being that day if she follows a demoniac calendar...

Vaggie:

It's canon that she likes everything to be clean and organized. I think she would help Niffty with the rooms and everything! They bond!

She and Angel Dust absolutely have BFFs vibes. Before Hazbin Hotel I remember they were meant to be a couple, but with the new canon they're still adorable as best friends and I love the dynamic more. They get into fights but it's never anything serious, they look like a big brother and a little sis, even though sometimes she definitely acts as a big sis to him. Angel sees Molly through her :(

As we know she doesn't really believe in herself, but she actually makes a very good leader!

In my fanfic, contrarily to the series, she was really fighting with burning hate towards the angels that cast her out. She holds a deep grudge and it's hard for her to come out of it. (I want Out for Love to be useful, it's my favorite song ç_ç)

Her name as a human was Agata Flores, she was born the 28th of June in 1993. If we still count 2014 as her death and if she was once a winner that then became sinner... my headcanon is that she died of a hate crime in March 25th 2014, aged 21.

Angel Dust:

He's not in drag 24/7. He really is feminine, but sometimes likes to try masculine outfits too. (which make Husk wonder "why am I staring??")

He's secretly a nerd. Or not so secretly. He owns video games, and especially likes RPGs and life sims.

He overanalyses everything. Well, almost everything but still. He actually likes reading, and this led him to analyse anything that comes into his eye. (Oh, I can't wait to write one of those scenes because I already had fun outlining it LMAOO)

He's probably Charlie's food buddy. Give them some food and they'll be happy (Valentino doesn't like this but get screwed Val, give him food too)

His name as a human was Anthony (canon) Cavallaro and had Neapolitan heritage. He's born in April 1st (and this is canon) 1912, he died of overdose (canon) in October 11th 1947, aged 35.

Alastor:

I loved his pilot persona more than the series', and most of the things are confirmed canon... but I do have some headcanons for him, too! (also yeah I don't think that will be my last radioapple drawing or doodle lol)

We know he either doesn't sleep or sleeps with his eyes open. Well, I imagine him that in the few rare occasions he actually sleeps, his radio works as a mental surveillance "camera". Also, he's a light sleeper and would definitely go "Do you fellows mind? I'm trying to sleep." like the old man he is.

I would like to explore Alastor's feelings for Charlie more, and how he sees her as a daughter. While we may not know if he was telling the truth, I think they both seeked each other as a fatherly and daughter figures in a way. Many in the fandom headcanon Alastor's father to have been shitty to him. If he truly sees Charlie as a daughter, it could be because he would like to be a better father than the one he had, and since he never had children, he grew affectionate to Charlie as such.

He knows how to handle alcohol well, but I like to think that when he's really drunk he doesn't even know what he's doing. Oh, you saw him playing with Angel's Nintendo Switch? He even brought it into his room to continue playing Animal Crossing by himself? He was totally wasted.

His name as a human was Alastor (which is apparently canon, but I wonder if it'll be retconned or not?) Boudreaux-Alexander. Boudreaux was his father's last name, Alexander was his mother's. He didn't like his mother taking her husband's last name and wanted to keep his mother's. He was born in March 7th 1901, and died in August 4th 1933, aged 32, after being shot by a hunter that confused him with a deer and was mauled by dogs afterwards. (Yikes, I'm so sorry)

Niffty:

She definitely has written lots of fanfics about her fellow hotel friends. Especially men. Yet, she loves Charlie and Vaggie too, so they're there as well.

We know both Niffty and Husk have deals with Alastor. She loves them both, I love to headcanon that when she feels lonely and can't sleep well or had nightmares, she either goes to Husk's or Alastor's room to sleep with them. They welcome her warmly ç_ç

Alastor and Husk most definitely know Niffty's story, which is why they care about her so much. She's childish for her age, but it could be tied to a past that only the two of them know very well.

Niffty knew Vox when they were alive. Now I know it could be a weird headcanon since Niffty is Japanese and Vox is American, but if Niffty's work brought her around the world it wouldn't be weird if they crossed paths. When Vox died Niffty was 19, she either saw him die in front of her eyes or something else happened.

As I mentioned in my concept sheets, she used to wear glasses when she was alive so she can't see really well without them after she died. Sometimes she borrows Alastor's monocle, and if we apply the headcanon that he's colorblind, without his monocle not only he can't see anything but can't even see colors LOL

Her name when she was alive was Sachiko Tanaka, born February 27th 1934. She died September 1st 1956, aged 22, there are popular headcanons about the way she died and yikes, if it's true she didn't have a good death either. Not at all.

Husk:

Maybe I'm overanalysing but what if the reason why he grew affectionate to Niffty was because he once had children? Or just one? Either he had a child and was with him but felt like he wasn't a good father or his ex-wife left him because of his gambling addiction and this made him feel guilty, not able to see his child ever again. (I feel bad just thinking about this but ç_ç)

Despite the fact he hates being on a leash and none other than Alastor's, he actually cares about him. If the two were friends when they were alive (including Mimzy), this could explain why he's still around Alastor even if reluctantly. (Sure he says he's forced, but in the pilot Alastor summoned him, so it's safe to assume either Alastor-Husk-Niffty were roommates before coming to the hotel and did their business without telling Alastor, or simply we need more explanations of Alastor's deals)

His name when he was alive was Ivan Goncharov, born January 29th 1900, and died in December 23rd 1967, aged 67. As I mentioned in my concept sheets, he was friends with Alastor and Mimzy when they were alive and he was the last one of them to die. He would often visit his friends' graves when he was still alive :(

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britcision · 2 years

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So I was thinking about Iron Widow and the Hunger Games because superficially, they follow similar arcs; a teenaged girl from an oppressive system fights the government

They’ve both got commodified violence as entertainment, a powerful emphasis on glamorous photoshoots, and lots of sinister machinations for our leading ladies

But when you put them side to side, they’re extremely different, and not just in the themes they explore. I think it comes down to one thing: agency

Katniss is living a pretty rough life before her story starts, and her situation sucks, but she is almost entirely independent. She has people she loves and won’t lose, and can consider just vibing off into the woods, even if she never would

The community is on her side and show it periodically, but things go from bad to worse extremely fast for her

Her first enemies aren’t alien hordes or callous killers who’ve led a hundred girls to certain death; they’re just other kids, in the same shitty situation, and as much as she tries to hate them, she can’t

Katniss is reasonably and understandably traumatized by what she’s been through, and loses her agency at every step as she’s pulled around by other peoples’ plans. She doesn’t want the rebellion and she doesn’t want an army; she wants to go home and be safe

Oh, and her love triangle is missing a side

Zetian though? Zetian’s former life fucking sucks, and we meet her on page one ready and willing to die for what she wants because she has nothing left that is hers

She has tried to run away, enough times to have “yet another escape attempt”, and is completely dependent on the people around her. She’s told her life’s worthless until she believes it, but no one considered “what if she wants to go out with a bang”

Zetian does see the political picture immediately, even if her understanding is as vague as “stop killing girls”

And while the army does spend a time trying to torture her with starvation and neglect before she meets Shimin, it’s really not much worse than how she’s used to being treated

Getting on camera and into battle, into physical violence that she can strike back with rather than just receiving, is a liberation for Zetian, and gives her her first ever taste of agency and power

She’s the first Iron Widow to survive and bear the name in public because she’s the first who went live on camera after a battle and couldn’t just be swept under the rug

The army can’t afford to kill her, but she’s perfectly happy to die for what she wants and she pushes back immediately and constantly against anyone trying to control her. She capitulates only on her terms, only when she gains from it

She’s a happy bisexual with two proud bi boyfriends because fuck what anyone else in the universe says, she wants it and it’s hers. She’ll worry for a moment if she’s got to choose (and if she’ll accept the choice made for her) and promptly decides the whole thing can go fuck itself because only her (and the boys’) wants matter

Nobody wants Zetian to lead a movement and change their world; if she won’t die quietly in a chrysalis, they want her to stand quietly at Shimin’s side as an accessory to make him more powerful

Her life is immediately, materially better from the minute she survives a second battle, and arguably from the moment she enlists because it’s finally under her control

Tl;dr? Katniss’s story is about losing control of her life and everyone has something they want from her. Zetian’s story is about seizing control and doing the shit that absolutely nobody wants her to do because she can

Katniss doesn’t want to lead a revolution

Zetian’s not giving the world a choice because she’s a one woman army and is the revolution

#iron widow #the hunger games #spoilers #out of context spoilers #story analysis #hi i like to overthink things #so yeah if you liked katniss but wanted to see her go full feral #zetian is for you #these are both good and valid stories to tell #but i love a girl who crosses off every name on her kill list in book 1

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ashwhowrites · 17 days

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I’ve heard that you’ve been asking for Robin requests. It’s an enemies to lovers fic, reader is the new girl to Hawkins she auditions for the band, but unknown to the reader that her instrument is also Robin’s. Robin hates the reader as she thinks that she’s trying to compete and be better than her, but the reader thinks that Robin is cute and keeps on trying to impress her with her musical skills. The reader is pissed off by Robin being cold to her and gives Robin a taste of her own medicine. The two have an explosive argument which the reader reveals her feelings for Robin and I’ll leave the ending up to you. Love your writing

Love love love my girl Robin. I ended this happy! You're welcome in advance. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Battle of the trumpets

Y/N was new to town and didn't know anyone. She landed herself in band, playing the trumpet. An instrument she knew how to play since she was young, her impressive playing earned her many praises in class. She might have tried to show off, but it wasn't for the teacher, it was for the cute brunette with dashing blue eyes that played right next to her.

After a few months of trying to get to know Robin, Y/N fell short. Short-like face planted straight into the ground whenever she made eye contact. Y/N would talk to Robin about their instrument but Robin seemed like she could care less. Whenever Y/N performed a solo, which she only agreed to so Robin could be impressed, Robin rolled her eyes and huffed. Y/N wasn't sure why she was so hostile. But for a while, she gave Robin the benefit of the doubt.

Y/N stayed friendly with Robin for the first few months. She gave her a smile when she entered class and said goodbye as she left. All she could get from Robin was a grunt and shrug. Y/N was attracted to Robin's looks, but her personality made Y/N rethink her crush.

Robin could not stand the goody-goody that she sat next to. A new girl named Y/N. Robin hated that she was stunning, and played the trumpet. Robin felt like Y/N was the new favorite and all the teacher focused on.

Robin was not surprised when Y/N was granted solo after solo. She couldn't stand the way Y/N had to constantly show off. Robin knew it was on purpose too, because of the way Y/N looked back at her every single time. She also hated how fake Y/N was, always acting so nice towards Robin. But Robin knew she didn't mean it, it was a mind game.

The final straw was when they got paired for a duet. The teacher believed they were two of the best and should be paired. Y/N was excited about the idea, alone time with Robin was all she wanted. Robin, on the other hand, was seething at the news.

"Hi, Robin!" Y/N said Robin hated how cute and sweet her voice was.

"Hi," Robin mumbled, her eyes on the floor as she pretended to back up her instrument.

"I was thinking we could meet at my house? Here is my address and phone number." Y/N said, handing over the piece of paper.

"And then the dingus paired us together! Can you believe that? Not only do I have to constantly be right next to her, so close that I can smell her perfume. But now I have to hang out with her?" Robin scoffed, she angrily smashed the movies into the racks.

"I really don't think it will be that bad," Steve explained, Robin had a tendency to overexaggerate a lot.

"You don't know her! Trust me, it will be the worst night of my life." Unaware of Y/N being a few racks behind.

The air was thick, and Y/N barely offered a welcome as she led Robin to her living room. Both were focusing on the music, with no small talk between runs. Only the sound of their music.

"On this part, I'd try doing a tad shorter. The sound dies out at the end." Y/N explained.

Robin sighed heavily at the comment, "Figures you would correct me."

"Just want a good grade." Y/N kept it short. Robin had never seen this side of her before. She was cold and distant.

"Oh, I'm sorry that I'm not the best in the class, and a suck ass to the teacher." Robin fought back.

"I never claimed to be the best, but if that is the way it seems, not my fault. I also don't suck the teacher's ass. I just know how to play." Y/N snapped, her eyes sharp as she glared at Robin.

"Oh please. You constantly show off and do every single solo. You walk all high and mighty, we are all scum beneath your shoe." Robin glared back. The air was thicker than ever between them. Y/N could not believe she ever liked this girl.

"I only showed off because I wanted to impress yo- someone. I never meant to look like a try-hard. If you want a solo, I will gladly step back." Y/N sighed, exhausted from the arguing.

"Oh, the only way I can get a solo is if you step back?"

"That is so not what I said!"

"It's what you are thinking!"

"No, it is not!" Y/N huffed as she stood up and slammed her trumpet back in the case.

"Then what are you thinking, huh? No one comes close to how well you play. Poor Robin can't get the spot on her own so you might as well ha-" Robin didn't get the finish. Y/N's loud scream filled her ears.

"I'M THINKING ABOUT HOW I CAN'T BELIEVE I LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE. I'M THINKING HOW MUCH OF AN IDIOT I WAS IN TRYING TO IMPRESS YOU. GO TO HELL, BUCKLEY."

Robin sat stunned as Y/N's bedroom door slammed.

~~~

"How did last night go?" Steve asked when Robin walked into her morning shift.

"Terrible" Robin sighed, the guilt was heavy on her chest. Her anxiety made her want to throw up. "Turns out she likes me."

"And that is bad?" Steve asked, his head turned into confusion.

"Yes, it's bad! We got into a huge argument because of my big mouth, and she snapped. I don't know what to do."

"Have you tried apologizing?"

"Wow! What a good idea- of course I fucking apologized. She refused to open the door." Robin sighed again, her head slamming against the counter.

~~~

Monday arrived and Robin was nervous to see Y/N again. She walked into band and saw Y/N in her normal seat. Robin took a deep breath and went to take her seat when the teacher stopped her.

"Robin, perfect you are here! I'd like to announce to the class that the big solo at the big show will be performed by Robin Buckley." The class erupted in applause but Robin looked to Y/N.

The bell rang and Robin's tongue was fast as she asked Y/N to talk.

"You didn't need to get me that solo."

Y/N rolled her eyes, of course, it wasn't an apology.

"I didn't. He genuinely picked you. You were better after all. Congratulations on the solo, and don't worry about the duet. He cut it from the show." Y/N said a sad smile sent Robin's way as she left.

Great, now Robin felt even worse.

~~~

Robin thought about Y/N and tried to think of every way to fix it. She started by dropping out of the solo. Y/N deserved that part way more than Robin did.

Of course, that doesn't fix the damage Robin did. But it was a step forward.

~~~

Robin took a deep breath and clenched the flowers in her hand. She stood backstage as she waited for Y/N. She practiced the apology in her head over and over.

"Oh, hi," Y/N said, a confused look in her eyes.

"These are for you," Robin rushed out, practically slamming the flowers into Y/N's chest.

"Thank you," Y/N smiled.

"Your performance was wonderful," Robin added, the air was thick and uncomfortable. Robin felt like she could barely breathe underneath her suit. She took in the sight of Y/N in her long black dress and classy makeup.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asked. She figured Robin went to the performance as a member of the band since she didn't have a song to perform.

"I wanted to see you, and to apologize." Robin gulped, "I treated you like shit based on my own insecurity. I saw you as a competition and I thought you were trying to push me out. I felt like a huge ass when you admitted you like me and wanted to impress me. I'm honored that you thought I was worth your attention. I know I fucked up, and I am so sorry. Pathetically, I thought coming here, dressed up, with flowers and an apology would be romantic. But I kinda feel stupid." Robin laughed nervously.

Y/N shook her head but stepped closer to Robin.

"It is romantic," Y/N whispered, her finger underneath Robin's chin as she pushed up her head. Robin licked her lips nervously as Y/N's soft skin touched hers.

"Yeah?" Robin whispered, her nervous smile made Y/N's stomach flutter.

"You know what would make it more romantic?" Y/N whispered, her eyebrow raised as she smiled. "If you kissed me."

"Right! Totally," Robin agreed, nodding her head. She felt her body heat up as Y/N's lips landed on hers. Robin never felt her heart race so fast, like it was trying to run out of her body. She placed her sweaty and nervous hands on Y/N's waist and pulled her closer.

Robin felt her knees buckle as Y/N's warm tongue touched hers. Robin gripped Y/N's dress tight and groaned as Y/N dropped the flowers to dive her hands into Robin's hair.

"Hey, Rob di-" The girls snapped apart upon hearing a voice. Y/N shyly wiped her lips as she saw a stranger with a shocked look on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to walk in on...that."

"Thanks, dingus," Robin said annoyed. Major cock block much?

"I'm Steve!" His hand reached out.

Y/N coughed awardly and shook his hand.

"Y/N"

"Well I'm just gonna go and leave you two alone," Steve winked and walked out. Leaving the girls blushing and looking at the floor.

"Want to get out of here? Somewhere we won't be interrupted?" Y/N asked, Robin was a puddle at her feet.

"Absolutely."

#robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley angst x female reader #Robin Buckley angst #robin buckley fluff x female reader #robin buckley x reader angst #ashwhowrites

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applejuicefruit · 1 year

Note

Can i request actress reader comforting kylian after they lost the champions league but he got so mad that he break up with her and so he leaves her alone because she is supposed to go at the oscar on sunday? (since it the oscar weekend) and he regrets it?

kylian mbappe x reader

Oscars

“Oh don’t be like this” you said, only earning a more pissed Kylian. You knew you shouldn’t be mad at him, these past few hours were hard for him, he lost the champions league again, hell, he didn’t even make it in the quarter so once he was back home you chose very carefully the words you were going to say to him but his ego and diva behaviour was making it really hard for you. All you did was comforting him, telling him that you were proud of him and that he shouldn’t give up because his moment would come but he took it in the wrong way, almost blaming you for the loss. You knew you shouldn’t have let his words hurt you but still, he shouldn’t have got mad at you.

“Like what? Just leave me alone” he snapped back at you.

“I’m trying to comfort you Kylian but you’re making it very hard…” you speak, more in a lower tone.

“I don’t want your pity! It’s that too hard for your little brain to understand?” he said.

Ouch. That hurt you.

“I’m gonna pretend you just didn’t say that…” you said back to him.

“Why not? Isn’t that real? You’re talking to me about making it big when you’re the first one who can’t do it…” he said and you felt your eyes becoming glossy.

You knew exactly what he was referring to.

You were an actress, probably one of the most paid actresses in Hollywood nowadays but your success came later in the years and at a very low pace.

You started acting in small shows and movies when you were only seventeen, most of the times never making it pass important auditions but at the time you were young and naïve so as long as you acted, you were happy like that. When you were nineteen you got chosen for an important movie with important people. Let’s just say that Leonardo DiCaprio, Scarlett Johansson and Robert Downey Jr were in that movie too. Last minute you decided that you didn’t want to make the movie, you had your good reasons, more than good reasons but you never felt like telling the public what made you step back from the movie so the media called you a “stupid little girl” for a few years. You didn’t care if they didn’t know the reasons, you knew that in a sick place like Hollywood they wouldn’t understand.

But now you were twenty three and very successful. You’ve been into a movie two years ago that made your career go crazy and that movie was exactly the reason you’ve met Kylian. He was invited at the global premiere and you both started talking that day. One thing led to an other and now you were dating. After that movie you got casted more and more, both in successful shows and films and this year you were going to the Oscar because you got a nomination as best leading actress. You still couldn’t believe it. So what Kylian said hurt you very much, also because he knew the reasons you stepped back from the first movie and right now you were feeling judged.

“We’re not talking about me Kylian…” you said.

“We shouldn’t be talking at all! We’ve lost…that’s it…the team wasn’t focused, I wasn’t focused, maybe you were the reason I wasn’t good tonight” he said shamefully blaming you.

“Me? What have I done?” you asked him in disbelief.

“You’re always on me! Distracting me y/n! You’re just a distraction and you’re the reason I wasn’t focused on the match!” he said and you couldn’t believe of what you were hearing “this thing between us is not working…I can’t be focused on games when you’re around, I’m sorry but it’s better if we break up” his face showing no emotions.

“What-what are you talking about?” you asked him, your tears falling from your eyes.

“That we’re done…I need to be more focused on games and you’re taking a lot of my time…I wish there was a solution but there’s not…” he was avoiding your look.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me anymore Kylian” you took a step closer to him.

“Don’t make this harder y/n…” he whispered.

“Do it!” you shouted back.

“I don’t love you anymore” he said, his eyes empty almost as if he was soulless.

You felt your heart breaking in millions of pieces. Like someone ripped your heart from your chest.

“Okay, fine…you’ll never see me again if that’s what you want” you said gathering your jacket and purse just lo leave his house.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

Nothing.

So you left, called a taxi, booked a flight and came back to your house in Los Angeles.

And that’s how you found yourself getting ready for the Oscars all alone. Kylian was supposed to come with you, to be your plus one. To the night that was supposed to be the best night of your life from the night you didn’t even want to attend anymore.

Your team noticed a drastic change in your behaviours. You spoke less, you ate less and you slept more. They didn’t particularly know what happened between you and Kylian, they just knew that something happened.

But here you were, in a hotel room full of make up artists and stylists trying to get you ready for your big night.

You were wearing a sleeveless gold shimmery long dress, the one Kylian chose for you when a month ago he came with you choosing the dress for the big night.

On the red carpet everyone expected to see you with Kylian so you could only imagine how surprised were the other guests when they saw you walking the red carpet alone.

This was your night and you wouldn’t let anyone ruin it, that’s what you thought.

So the ceremony started and you’ve never been thrilled to be there.

And the turn of your nominations came and, of course, you won. You didn’t expect it, not at all, so you got up on stage and gave your speech even if you couldn’t contain your tears and emotions. In the backstage you took all the pictures and videos you had to do and came back to your seat watching the end of the show. You felt like dreaming.

Once the ceremony was over you went back to the hotel, changed your dress and attended the after party and for just a few hours you completely forgot about what happened a week ago with Kylian. You were having the night of your life, the moment of your life and you didn’t want anything to ruin it.

A lot of people congratulated with you, most of Kylian’s teammates sent you a quick text saying how proud they were and you were really happy about it.

The party was over and you came back to your hotel, finally leaving those high heels behind and changing into some comfortable pajamas. That’s when you took a selfie with your golden statue in your hand and posted it back on insta, thanking everybody for the support you’ve been receiving.

Kylian liked it. And commented with a red heart. But you ignored him and went to sleep.

Kylian knew how stupid he was the moment he saw you stepping out of his apartment. He regretted saying those words to you but he knew he was too late. He spent the whole week thinking how to apologise to you. So that’s why he was sitting in the lobby of your hotel thinking what to say to you. He knew that last night was your big night and he didn’t want to put you in a bad mood so he waited until the next morning.

You were happily sleeping when a knock on the door woke you up from your sweet dreams.

You knew you had to attend some interviews but not at seven in the morning.

So you stood up from your bed and went straight to the door not even daring asking who it was.

You were surprised to see Kylian standing there.

“Hi…” he said shyly to you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him not even looking at him.

“I’m here to apologize…” he confessed and you laughed.

“A bit late for that, don’t you think?” you asked him in a sarcastic tone.

“I fucked up, I know that, please let me make it up to you…” he begged you and you could see that he was saying the truth but it didn’t change the fact that he hurt you and made you feel guilty.

“You fucked up really bad” you said.

“I know…please, please, forgive me y/n…I never stopped loving you, this past week was the hardest one without having you by my side, fuck, I said those horrible things about you and I’m so so so sorry…” he apologised, a tear slipped from his eye.

“It’s not enough Kylian…you talked shit about me, about my career, you made me feel like I was nothing…” you didn’t want to cry again but you were still feeling very empty from the night before so a few tears fell from your eyes.

“I know and I’m so sorry about it…I never meant say any of that, I love you, I love how passionate you are about your career, fuck, look where you are now, with an Oscar! You made it and I wasn’t here with you…I left you alone when you needed me and I’ll never forgive myself for that…” he said truthfully but you didn’t say anything back “…I know you’re mad and you have every right to be mad at me…but I don’t want you to go away from me, I love you so much and I can’t think of living a life where you aren’t there…please baby…” he took your hands and kissed them.

“Okay…” you whispered, knowing how much helpless you were without him.

“Okay?” he asked softly smiling at you.

“Yes…but I’m still made at you! You have a lot to make up for…” you said smiling a bit.

“Okay…” he took a step closer to you “how about we start now?” he teased you when he put his hands on your waist and gently pushed you toward the bed, helping you laying down.

You couldn’t help but smile, finding comfort in Kylian’s touch once again.

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gagmewitha-spork · 1 year

Text

English Lessons (Leila Ouahabi x reader)

Warnings: none.

Description: Reader trying to teach Leila English is not going as well as hoped, but why?

Notes: hey! remember me? probably not, but I started writing this in like December and only just got it finished, I’ve got a couple of other fics in the works but going on how long this took to write it’ll probably be a while before they’re out 😬 (also not my gif, can’t remember where I saved it from tho so sorry if it’s yours)

Word count: 2460

“Leila”, you pause, rubbing your eyes, “this clearly isn’t working”, you speak in Spanish. You had spent four years playing for Atletico Madrid and had picked up the language surprisingly easy, so as a result of your fluency in her native tongue, Leila had immediately used her charm to convince you to help teach her English. The thing is, it was not going well, it seemed that she had reached a point and stayed there. You hadn’t seen any improvement in her ability to speak your native language for weeks now and you were honestly loosing hope, “I think you should just speak to the club, they can get you a proper teacher, which, might I remind you, you should have had from the beginning”.

“I don’t want another teacher”, she replies, in perfect, though still heavily accented, English.

“Well something here clearly isn’t working because every time we come in here you just get worse if anything”, you throw your hands in the air, feeling exasperated at the situation.

“I’m not”, Leila insists, “I am better, I just”, she pauses deciding whether of not she wanted to tell you the real reason she wasn’t improving, “look y/n”, she starts, beginning to reach out and take one of your hands in hers, but is cut off as the door to the conference room you’re currently sat in swings open, revealing your other Spanish teammate.

“Steph sent me to come and get you both”, Laia starts, speaking Spanish, “trainings starting earlier than planned because of the rain forecast for later”, she explains, “they want to get on before the pitch gets too bad”, she finishes and quickly disappears back out the door, not leaving either of you any time to ask questions.

“We better go”, you tell Leila, picking up the English practice books the club had provided you.

“Y/n”, Leila said, grabbing onto your hand before you could disappear after Laia, “my English is good”, she insists, though saying it in Spanish left you unconvinced, “you’re a good teacher, I don’t want another one”.

“Maybe try saying that in English and I might believe you”, you reply, your tone dejected. You left the room, heading straight to the locker room, before she could hold you back any more.

Leila pauses for a minute before following after you, hitting her head gently against the wall after you’d left, “Idiota, idiota, idiota”, she repeats quietly to herself as she does so, “solo decirle”, (just tell her) she mumbles to herself, throwing her hands in the air as she follows after you towards to locker room to get ready for training.

——

Training went well, the rain held off until the last few minutes so while you were definitely all completely drenched, the mud wasn’t too bad.

“Ice baths?”, Laia suggested to you as you all made your way back inside. It had become a habit that you, her and Leila would all go to the ice baths together after training or a game. Your ability to speak Spanish, and previous friendship Laia, having played at Atleti together along with Deyna, had meant you had developed quite a close friendship with all your Spanish speaking teammates. You would often spend time hanging out with them instead of your fellow England players, which of course had led to a lot of teasing from the likes of Lauren and Chloe, with them suggesting that you might as well go and play for either Spain or Venezuela if you enjoyed hanging out with them so much.

You nodded at Laia and grabbed your phone and a towel from your locker before following behind the young centre back and making your way into the ice cold tub next to her.

The two of you stayed mostly silent, both individually scrolling through your phones as the 5 minute timer slowly ticked down.

“So what’s going on with you and Lei?”, she suddenly asks out if no where. Your head whipped up to look at her, before your eyes quickly scanned your surroundings to make sure no one else was around to hear. Luckily, she’d chosen to speak Spanish so there would only be a select number of your teammates who would understand, but one of those happened to be the exact person you definitely didn’t want to hear.

“What?”, you scoffed, trying (and failing) to act as casual as possible at her suggestion.

“She likes you”, she states like she knows it as fact, “and I’m pretty sure you like her back so…”, she trails off.

“So what?”, you asked, before quickly following up with, “and she doesn’t like me”, you paused, “and I don’t like her, not like that”, you insisted.

The truth was, you and the older Spaniard had been dancing around each other flirtatiously for weeks, if not months, at this point. Your problem was you could never tell if she was serious. Leila was naturally a very happy, flirty person, a fact you knew well having played against her for years in Spain, and you had always gone along with it thinking it would never go any further beyond a flirtatious rivalry. But now you played for the same team, and what had started out innocently had developed into something you were afraid was becoming a little too real.

“Right”, Laia didn’t seem at all convinced by your argument.

The conversation ended there though, as the woman herself entered the room and made her way into the ice bath with the two of you.

“Who died?”, she asked, sensing an air of awkwardness around, “did I just walk in on something”, she asked, her eyebrows wiggling in a jokingly suggestive way. Neither of you responded, Laia just watching you as you refused to look up from your phone, “did I walk in on something?”, Leila asked again, a more serious tone to her voice this time.

Laia shook her head, rolling her eyes, both at Leilas ridiculous suggestion, and at your denial to what she could clearly see blossoming between you and the left back.

The three of you stayed silent for a while before Laia conveniently got a phone call and left you and Leila there by yourselves. Judging by the intense eye contact she sent your way as she left the room, you’d guess it wasn’t so much ‘convenient’ as it was set up.

“You want to have Sushi?”, Leila asked, in English, almost like she was trying to prove a point.

“Now?”, you question, as hers had been rather open ended and it’d become a habit for you to make every conversation you had in English a lesson for her.

“No, later”, she confirmed, rolling hers eyes at you as she knew what you were doing.

“Ask me again”.

“You want sushi later?”, she asked again.

“I might get sushi later, yeah, why?”, you were being difficult. You knew exactly what she was trying to say and she knew it, you just wanted her to ask it properly.

“You want it with me?”, she pushed, getting closer to how you wanted her to say it.

“Want what with you?”, you feigned confusion and she rolled her eyes.

“Do you want to got out for sushi with me later?”, she asked, in Spanish this time, as she’d given up trying to work out how to say it in English.

“No comprendo”, you shrugged you shoulders at her, acting like you didn’t understand what she was saying.

She slapped your shoulder, “You want to have sushi later, with me”, she finally says, though it sounds more like a statement than a question.

“I would love to”, you smiled cheekily at her. She shoved your shoulder lightly in response, “on one condition”.

“Ugh, what?”, she rolled her eyes.

“You have to speak English, all evening”, you state.

Your alarm sounded suddenly, signalling your 5 minutes in the ice cold water you hated so much was over and you immediately moved to leave the small pool.

A hand grabbed yours before you could make it all the way out however.

“This means we still have lessons for English tomorrow, yes?”, Leila asked you, the look in her eyes, combined with her thumb brushing over your knuckles almost making you melt.

You sighed, “Lei”, you paused, giving her a chance to pull you back into the pool, a little closer to her, “I really think you should get a teacher”.

“I have a teacher”, she insisted, grabbing your second hand, “she is the best”, the soft look in her eye was gradually changing into that look. You know the one, where her lips curve into that charming smirk, and for a second you think she might just lean in and kiss you.

She doesn’t, and you scold yourself for even allowing your mind to go there.

“We’ll see”, you state, removing yourself from her grip and exiting the pool.

Leila watches as you leave, and internally groans. She decides then and there that she needs to tell you how she feels.

——

It’s much later in the day when you find yourself taking a seat at a table opposite Leila. You’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had come here, it was definitely at least twice a week at this point, but you loved it.

“Let me guess”, Leila says as she picks up a menu, “onigiri?”, she asks, referring to the rice dish you got every time you came.

“You know me so well”, you smile back at her, before reading over some of the other options.

The evening goes the same as any other the two of your spent eating sushi together. Far too much food is consumed and you’ve talked about just about anything that had come up. Yet the conversation never got boring. It never did with her. And she had managed to speak English all evening, to a pretty good level too, only getting caught up on a few words.

You now found yourself walking down the pavement in the brisk Manchester evening air. The two of you had decided to walk home, your apartment buildings were right next to each other, as most of cities players were, and the walk was short enough for it not to be a trek, but long enough that it allowed your overfilled stomach to settle before going to bed.

There was a brief lull in conversation as you looked up at the sky, the night was clear, and even with all the light pollution from the city around you, you could make out some of the brightest stars.

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you feel Leila’s hand intertwine with your own, causing your gaze to shift from the sky, to glance down at you now joined hands before coming to settle on her face. She was already looking at you, and unreadable expression on her face.

She was trying to read you, trying to see if what she was doing was okay.

“Lei, what are you doing?”, you asked quietly, but you didn’t let go of her hand.

“Holding your hand”, she explained simply.

You continue walking for a while. The silence between you comfortable, at least for you. For Leila, it gave her far too much time to think, and getting her thoughts together was becoming increasingly difficult.

She pulls you to a stop.

“Lei-“, you go to question her, but she cuts you off.

“You know I like you?”, she says, it’s phrased like a statement but the upwards inflection towards the end informs you it is actually a question. Knowing, however, does not help your brain fully compute exactly what it is she’s asking. Or is she telling you?

“What?”, is all you manage to get out.

“I’m not good in English”, she explains, you furrow your brow because the statement really doesn’t help clear any of this up, “in Spanish I’m good, I can flirt easy with you, but English is hard and I don’t sound good”.

“Wha-“, you go to say again, your brain short-circuiting at what she appears to be saying.

“I only want you to teach me English because I want to spend a lot of time with you”, she stumbles through the sentence in English and while your brain gradually catches up to what she seems to be implying, you struggle to fight off the smile that wants to form on your lips as you watch her, “I think you are amazing and beautiful and, and I don’t know any more English words that you are but I know there must be a lot”.

You’re just watching her at this point, as she adorably continues to mumble out words she thinks could potentially describe how she sees you, with the same smile plastered on your face from before, except now you’re not fighting it. Until eventually you can’t help yourself, the words aren’t coming to you anyway so instead of saying something you take her face in your hands and place your lips on hers, shutting her up immediately.

She doesn’t respond for a second, due to the shock, but as soon as she realises what’s happening, her hands are holding you against her instantly, and her lips move with yours in a synchronicity that honestly surprises you a little. In all your 27 years of living you can honestly say you’ve never experienced a kiss quite like this first one with Leila.

You pull away eventually, but your hands remain on either side of her face, your thumb running gently over her bottom lip, already wanting to kiss them again.

“So you-”, Leila starts but you cuts her off.

“You can speak Spanish now”.

She giggles lightly before speaking again, “if that terrible speech got you to kiss me like that I can’t wait to see what happens when I can use my charm properly”, she says in Spanish now, that signature smirk back on her face as her arms tighten themselves around you ever so slightly.

“Well it convinced me to help teach you English, so who knows what else you could convince me to do”, you teased back.

“Maybe we can find out back at my apartment?”, Leila suggests.

You agree and the two of you start heading in that direction.

“Just so you know, this definitely means you’re getting an actual English teacher now”, you tell her as you walk together, her arm draped over your shoulder and yours wrapped around her waist.

“Yeah I thought so”, she laughed, “I’m surprised you held out so long”.

“Well believe it or not, but I actually liked the excuse to spend time alone with you”.

“I knew it!”, she exclaims, kissing your cheek and guiding you into her apartment building.

#woso x reader #leila ouahabi x reader

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accirax · 2 months

Text

Elliot Cuevas Lore Check (Yoidoreshirazu MV Analysis)

After the intellectuals in our community had the thought to check the description of DRDTdev’s latest MV masterpiece, one fact became pretty clear: DRDT’s sparkly new MV is not fronted by one of our main cast of sixteen, or even a particularly pre-established side character. Instead, it’s time for Elliot Cuevas to take the stage, and bring with him a lot of questions ranging from “wait, that’s what he looks like?” to “wait, is the killing game predicated on a basis of lies?!” There’s… a lot running through my mind right now, and I see no better way to process it than to start answering the questions that I and others may have as best I can through a theory post. I’m living!

And when I say “answering the questions,” I mean that quite literally. I think that the best way to frame this analysis is to divide it into headlining questions, and tackle what we know and what we can learn piece by piece. Therefore, I think the most obvious question we can start with is:

#1: Who is Elliot Cuevas?

We don’t have a ton of information about the guy, but I’ve tried to compile what we do. By far the most information we’d gotten on Ellie prior to this MV was from the Chapter 2 Part 1 Q&A, where DRDTdev described a little about all of the major siblings we’d heard of so far. Here’s what DRDTdev said:

So, we know that Elliot was given the nickname “Ellie” (and presumably likes it, given that he’s credited in the MV as “Ellie”), and he looks really similar to Charles, which we also saw in the MV. Given how similar he looks to Charles, I’m going to assume that they’re biological brothers, which would make Ellie hispanic/latino. Similarly, I’m assuming that he identifies as male, due to his use of he/him pronouns and the term “brother” being applied to him. He likes pancakes and dogs, which… we’ll get back to later. Charles is stated to be 18+ at the start of Despair Time, which would make Ellie 29-32+ if he were alive today. Which… huh. Is he?

#2: Is Ellie alive?

The belief that Ellie is dead isn’t just a popular headcanon that metamorphosed into “fact”– his death is directly referenced in the text in the form of Charles’ secret. Your older brother, Elliot, died.

However, this MV does make it tempting to believe that Ellie could be alive, so let’s give it the benefit of the doubt for a moment. If Ellie is alive, there are two sets of two questions to consider.

Question #1: If Ellie is alive, why did people think he died?

Ellie was in a life threatening scenario that people believed he didn’t escape from, but he did. After this, he either took the opportunity to disappear, or something prevented him from reuniting with his loved ones.

Ellie did die, and the DRDT universe contains some sort of necromantic magic or time travel properties that could bring him back to life.

Question #2: If Ellie is alive, why does the secret say that he’s dead?

Whoever wrote the secrets (likely the mastermind) did so intending to tell the truth. They learned the information from a source that led them to believe that Ellie had died, and if Ellie turned up alive, they would be just as surprised as everyone else.

Whoever wrote the secrets (likely the mastermind) did so intending to lie. They knew that Ellie was really alive, and included his “death” in the secret just to fuck with Charles. This could also imply that other students’ secrets incorporate some level of lies.

If Ellie is alive, I think that the #1 situation is more likely for both questions.

If Ellie is dead, we don’t know exactly when his death happened. Given that Charles cites it under the umbrella of “childhood amnesia,” we can pin Ellie’s hypothetical death down to a time when Charles was a child. The National Institute of Health defines childhood as 3-11 years old. So, if Ellie died when Charles was 3-11, it would mean Ellie’s age of death would fall between 14 and 23.

I made this little moodboard to try to piece together around what age Ellie might be depicted as in the MV based on how DRDTdev has drawn people of various ages before. This is important under the assumption that Ellie canonically looked like this at some point during his life. ‘Cause (picking obviously wrong numbers here), if Ellie had died when he was, like, 2, it’d be weird if the MV showed him when he was, like, 50, right?

Allow me to take a little detour to discuss the Nageishi sisters and establish their ages. I initially ballparked Arei’s age as around 13 in that picture, which would have made her sisters (who are 2-5 years older than her) 15-18. However, there’s some actual evidence we can pull upon to clarify when that image might have come from.

In Arei and J’s FTE, J says that Arei “definitely [*was*] a highschool bully,” and Arei confirms that she was “the queen of her school.” Assuming that these two are to be believed, we can estimate based on the average age at which an American enters high school as a freshman that Arei has been a bully since at least around 14. While I don’t necessarily expect that Arei came in and became the queen bee on the first day of freshman year, it certainly would have been easier to establish her reign if the other students hadn’t previously seen her being bullied and tortured for a year or so beforehand. Therefore, Arei is probably in a maximum of eighth grade (12-13) in that image, so that she would have had enough time to sabotage her sisters before entering high school.

Additionally, although it isn’t stated in the secret the killing game handed out, Arei confesses to David and Teruko that she “got [her sisters] unlawfully sent to reform school.” Through a bit of googling, I learned that many reform schools cap out at about 16-17 years old, although it’s impossible to confirm that without knowing which state Arei grew up in. If that’s the case, then Fuyuko and Natsuko could only be a maximum of 17 years old, which is in the same sort of age range as Arei being a maximum of 15 in that picture. However, I don’t know if the Nageishi parents/the government would find it too useful to send the sisters to reform school for only one year, so it seems more likely that they’re younger than that in the picture. I might ballpark that Arei is 12 and Fuyuko and Natsuko are 15 in the picture.

Anyways, I think we can definitely rule out the possibility of Ellie dying when Charles was on the lower end of the age spectrum. He looks way older than any of the characters drawn “when they were kids”, and notably older than Arei as well. To me, he also looks older than Ryan, meaning he probably reached the age of an 18+ adult.

Unfortunately, there’s a really large age range that’s gone undepicted between the “18+” killing game participants and Mariabella, the only “parent-aged” adult we’ve seen so far. I would probably put Ellie’s appearance between the two, but it’s also possible that his unkempt hair and eyebags are making him look older than he actually was, a la Syobai Hashimoto of SDRA2 (the link is a spoiler-free picture of him). Syobai’s exact age is unknown, but generally young, yet many people think he’s an old man when they first see him. That phenomenon could be going on with Ellie as well.

If he is, we’ll say, 20 or older, though, there’s a limited number of ages he could have died at that would still fall within Charles’ childhood. If Ellie died, he did so when Charles was in the 8-11 kind of age range. Otherwise, for Ellie to reach the age he’s shown at in the MV, he probably survived to grow older than Charles’ family last remembers him. I think Ellie’s death is probably more likely, but, hey, that means we’ve narrowed down the period in which Charles could have acquired his childhood amnesia. That’s something!

#3: How does Charles feel about Ellie?

Well, okay. Obviously, in the current day, Charles doesn’t know who Ellie is, and therefore probably doesn’t have any strong feelings about him other than confusion. But, before Charles forgot about him, what was Charles’ opinion?

I actually thought that Charles really admiring Ellie was a canon fact, but looking back at it, I don’t think it was ever directly stated. That said, there are several reasons why I thought that their relationship was a positive one.

Told you we’d come back to Ellie liking pancakes! I’m sure it’s not a coincidence that, when Charles thinks of what he’d like to learn how to cook, he comes up with Ellie’s favorite food. It could be that Ellie used to make pancakes for Charles, or that they simply used to go out and get pancakes together, but Charles clearly has some sort of repressed memories about pancakes with his brother that makes him want to seek them out again.

We already knew that Charles and Ellie were known to look very alike, and this MV confirmed that was true, down to the length of their hair. If Charles didn’t like Ellie, he easily could have kept his hair short, like the haircut he had as a child, as a way to make them look less similar. However, Charles is very attached to keeping his hair in a long ponytail, just as Ellie wears it. That implies to me that Charles saw Ellie as enough of a role model to seek replicating the image of his brother through his own style even when he doesn’t remember that Ellie existed. That’s powerful.

#4: Why does Ellie look… like that?

Now this is a point that I’m still confused about. Charles’ affluent backstory has been alluded to multiple times. Both his inability to do his own laundry and his lack of knowledge in the kitchen imply that he had people to cook and clean for him. It’s possible that Charles’ parents were the ones doing that for him (which implies some level of wealth, but not so much as living in a house full of butlers and maids), but the general vibe I’ve gotten is that Charles’ family was well-off enough that they hired help.

If we assume that Charles and Ellie are biological brothers who spent enough time together to form a notable bond, it really seems like they would have grown up in the same household for both of their youths, together. So then, what gives with Ellie’s appearance? The patched up jacket, blemished face, and basic cigarette don’t match at all with the pristine white mansion with hedges that many might imagine for Charles. How would that have played out?

Option A: Ellie was the family’s rebellious wild child

I’m having trouble coming up with good examples, but there’s definitely a trope out there of a big brother character who’s a bit of a rude rebel, but still a pure-hearted dreamer that their younger sibling(s) can really look up to. Ellie was just the member of the uptight Cuevas family that couldn’t be tamed, no matter how hard his parents tried to cramp his thrifty style or stop him from going out and partying(?).

Notably, this option is quite confusing for Charles. Even if this figure is considered the typical epitome of cool, I don’t know if it’s someone who Charles would really gel with. As a child, Charles is depicted as pretty wide-eyed and innocent with his adorable little bubbles. I’m not saying that that kind of kid couldn’t come to idolize their rockstar big bro– just that, if they did, they probably wouldn’t turn out like Charles. Still, it could be an opposites attract situation, or perhaps forgetting Ellie and the ensuing trauma changed Charles more than we would have expected.

This interpretation is also… a bit of a leap, considering what we’ve seen of Ellie.

Like, these are not particularly the expressions of a thrill-seeking party animal who loves to crack open a cold one with the boys. Most of his expressions look wary, scary, or contemplative, and even the two that are smiling are doing so in more of a wry/teasing way. Fun-loving scamp Ellie might fit the way he’s styled his body, but not so much the expressions on his face. Perhaps the characterization was a little off?

Option B: Ellie was the family’s edgy black sheep

Instead of Ellie’s cigarette and messy ponytail implying that he’s supposed to be punk and cool, perhaps they’re meant to indicate that he was more emo and nihilistic. I don’t imagine that the Cuevas household would’ve liked this too much either, but it’s still a plausible way for a privileged teen to rebel against his family system. This kind of attitude matches more with the range of expressions we can gather from Yoidoreshirazu.

However, if it would be hard for Charles to relate to the last guy, I have no idea what Charles would be doing looking up to this guy. Maybe if their one-on-one moments showed Charles the soft heart behind Ellie’s tough exterior, Charles would’ve come to appreciate his perspective on life…? Yeah, I don’t really imagine these two enjoying a plate of pancakes together, either. Also, this would have been when Charles was, like, a kindergartener.

But if that’s the case, what then? Is my image of the Cuevas household just totally off? Or is this version of Ellie not compatible with the Cuevas household at all?

Option C: Ellie was kicked out of his family and left for dead

Especially in front of the grimy brick background and neon street sign, Ellie’s worse-for-wear appearance did make me think that this image of him could have been taken from a time when Ellie was without a home and living on the streets. As in, this look was never associated with the Cuevas household at all.

This option has some definite appeal because it allows a lot more flexibility from Ellie’s personality before he was kicked out. He could have been a stand-up guy, smart like Charles and a great mentor too, and only have adopted his more dour personality once he was kicked out of home. There are plenty of reasons why someone could be disowned that don’t (necessarily) reflect poorly on their character: Google lists being LGBTQ+, dating someone of a different race or religion, getting someone pregnant, or not following the profession your parents wanted for you as possibilities, depending on who the parents are and what they believe.

Any interpretation where the Cuevas parents are somewhat ashamed of Ellie would also help to rationalize why Mr. and Mrs. Cuevas lied to Charles about being an only sibling. If they really loved Ellie, they might have tried to bridge the subject with Charles one day, and not let the memory of their elder son fade into history. If he was someone they didn’t want to associate with in the first place, covering up his death would have been much more emotionally viable.

So, if the Cuevas parents are the kind of people to disown their kid for less-than-fair reasons, Ellie could have still been the kind of treasured big brother figure to Charles one might have expected while also getting kicked to the curb. However, this option raises the definite question of… how did Ellie’s death happen?

On the surface, that might seem like a strange question. Sadly, homeless people in the United States have an average life span that’s 17.5 years shorter than the average housed person’s life span, and the number of deaths have only been increasing in recent years. Especially in a civilization that was once home to the biggest, most awful, most tragic event in human history, trying to survive without a home might be quite difficult.

All that doesn’t really apply to Ellie, though, because we have a pretty decent lead on how he died: dog attack.

Even if he might not remember why, Charles dislikes dogs, and has a remnant of that turbulent relationship etched into his very skin. Ellie actually likes dogs, an interesting point of contrast, but one that makes it clear that dogs are important to Charles’ backstory in some manner. I and others have then speculated that the attack in which Charles got that scar on his arm may have been the time at which Ellie died. Both events– the attack that created the scar and Ellie’s passing– were erased by his childhood amnesia.

The story would play out as something along the lines of “Ellie and Charles used to both really love dogs, and were approached by a dog one day. However, that dog was feral, and attacked Charles. He was bitten on the arm before Ellie told Charles to run as Ellie stayed behind to protect his brother. However, Ellie couldn’t fend off the dog himself, and was instead mauled to death. Charles escaped with an injured arm and a head full of trauma that would cause him to fully erase the memory of his brother from his mind.” Don’t know how feasible that exact scenario is, but I always imagined it as something like that.

So, if Ellie was living on the street at the time of his death, how would the two of them have come together for the dog to attack? Maybe Charles could have been visiting Ellie on his own, but, again, he would have been 8-11 years old at the time. Would the 8-11 year old Charles have really had the means or motive to set out alone to see his brother, and would the Cuevas family have really let their elementary school-aged son wander off into the streets alone?

Then there’s the issue of Ellie’s age again. Look. I’m not trying to say that every 23 year old should be able to 1v1 a feral dog in a fight. I’m 23, and if I had to fight a street dog to the death, I would probably lose! However, while I am a quiet nerd who likes to write thousand word essays about anime video game fanfiction characters in her free time, Ellie seems like a fairly athletic young man. If he looks like Charles, he’s also probably around Charles’ height of 5’9”. Plus, it probably didn’t have to be to the death. Couldn’t Ellie have used those long legs to run away, or his human hands to make an improvised weapon, or something? To me, it feels much more plausible for Ellie to have been killed in a dog attack if he were also a child/teen when it happened. But, that should be incompatible with his appearance in the MV. Unless–

Option D: Ellie became this way… after he was “dead”?

Wait, what? No, wait, I thought I had already determined that Ellie was dead! What do you mean it might ACTUALLY MAKE MORE SENSE IF HE WAS ALIVE??? WHAT HAS THIS MV COME TO?! AAAAAAAAAA–

Well. If this version of Ellie is what he “became” after he faked his death (or had it faked for him), certain elements start to line up. There is no conflict with the Cuevas family, because Ellie’s personality could have been completely different than what we see in Yoidoreshirazu. Similarly, we don’t have to solve why Charles would have built such a bond with this guy because this guy may not have existed when he was interacting with Charles. The brothers growing up in a household together would make it considerably easier for them both to encounter a mean dog at the same time. And, if Ellie didn’t have to reach this 20+ age before he disappeared from Charles’ life, the whole story could have been set much earlier, such that Ellie could have been fending the dog off when he was more of a kid or teen himself. Then, being separated from his family and presumed dead is what caused Ellie to lose his faith in life, take up his smoking habit, and hardly be able to sleep or smile.

This could still involve him being forced to live on the streets, although I would then wonder why he didn’t ever try to get back in contact with his family. Maybe he did and they turned him away? But, if he was an admirable son, I see no reason why they would do that. Perhaps he had expressed a bit more discontentment with the Cuevas family prior, and decided that, given this opportunity, it was for the best to sever his ties with them? That seems like a pretty extreme decision to keep up with given the state that Ellie seems to have wound up in, and would call into question how much Ellie cared about Charles if he was so willing to leave him behind.

It would kind of make more sense to me if, in this scenario, an outside force was stopping Ellie from reuniting with his family– for instance, if XF-Ture Tech offered Ellie a deal like they did to Min (somewhat forcing his hand), which included that he could never contact his family again. That could certainly make Ellie more important to the plot moving forward, and explain part of why he even got this MV. But, what would XF-Ture Tech want to do with some kid who was just near-fatally mauled by a dog attack? An near-fatal attack that… he doesn’t even seem to have scars on his face, neck, or right hand from???

Option E: this is how ellie looks in heaven or hell or whatever i don’t freakin know

Some of you may have been screaming at me the entire time that Ellie’s design may not be “canon,” so to speak, and you know what? That’s valid. It could simply be a projection of what Ellie could have looked like if he’d ever grown to this point in age, or his appearance may have been modified to better match Gumi’s disheveled vibe in the original Yoidoreshirazu MV, and not reflect his true personality. Ellie and Gumi do have really similar poses, cigarettes and all.

However, it would seem a little odd to me to give the audience what’s basically an AU design of Ellie before we got the original version. That would lead to insanely wrong conclusions like what I just wrote above if true, which could potentially cause people to interpret future content incorrectly. That’s not good. Besides, the song was still chosen for Ellie, and the song carries the same sort of gritty, nightlife vibe that the Gumi design does. Could the lyrics of the song really fit Ellie so well that the entire energy of the song and appearance of the MV could be waived?

#5: What’s up with these lyrics?

Sigh. I hate to move on to the next talking point when I haven’t yet resolved what we were last discussing, but, to be honest, I don’t know if I can resolve why Ellie looks and acts like that with the information we currently have. I’m kind of banking on the lyrics swaying me in the right direction when it comes to that interpretation, but given that I’m probably going to have to reverse engineer a lot of the lyrics’ meaning, I don’t have high hopes.

Well, we’ve already seen how I think these lyrics would apply to Rose, so how do I think they would fit Ellie? More questions ahead, but please note that I may be taking certain lyrics more specifically than they’re meant to be interpreted. I don’t have much else to go off of, so for the sake of gaining pretty much any knowledge I kinda have to assume the lyrics are total slam dunks.

#6: What can we learn about Ellie’s personality?

I woke up as an unaware drunkard All of this bickering goes on til the dawn comes

Ellie wakes up and immediately begins to complain. Unless he’s bickering with himself, he isn’t alone, although that doesn’t necessarily mean he has friends. In the original song, I imagine this lyric to be more about passersby or the general state of the world, so it could be the same case for Ellie.

In Ellie’s case, it’s unclear exactly what being a “drunkard” means. It could just be the literal interpretation, where Ellie is an alcoholic. I wouldn’t know. Being a drunkard could also extend to being an addict in general— we can be pretty certain that Ellie is a smoker (unless see Option E above). It could also be that the “drunkard” part of the phrase is less important and it’s more just about being unaware. Although, that would require further interpretation for later lines like “getting drunk again and again,” and Drunkard is also half of the song’s title (“An Unaware Drunkard”). Still, Elliot could be enveloped in the same sort of general haze I described back when I gave this song to Rose. Or, he could literally just be a guy that likes to drink a lot. Either way, it gives off the impression of someone who spends more time centered in his own world than butting into others’ businesses.

The singing voices are uncountable And once one gets lost in them, they end up at your xx Hey, look at how pretty it is, the day dream rondo I hide a thousand and can only spit out ten

More introvert coding– he really doesn’t like being in large groups of people. Ellie keeps the same pretty neutral expression throughout all of these lines in the MV, which makes it kind of hard to discern exactly what these statements mean for him. Like, is “look how pretty it is” supposed to show how he’s easily distracted by dreams and frivolous things, or how he’s using positive things to distract those around him from how he “hides a thousand and can only spit out ten”? In either case, that latter line seems to imply that Ellie is dissatisfied with whatever he’s doing in life (or death?) right now– “can only spit out” makes me think that he feels he should be doing more.

Giving in, I’m living Getting drunk again and again, unexpectedly- Ah, it's not half bad

Ah, the infamous screenshot from the presumed dead man. This smirky face gives some definite context for the attitude of these lines. Ellie seems smug or proud that he’s living… because he’s beating the death allegations? Well, it could also be that he just enjoys living a life of sin (smoking and drinking), and/or enjoys defying the expectations of the Cuevas family in this way. There’s also a certain irony to saying “I’m living” while flaunting a cigarette in his hand. Ellie may also be someone who enjoys tempting fate and defying the odds.

Ellie’s facial expressions with these lines make me believe that he actually thinks that getting drunk again and again is pretty cool, and it’s not just a deflection from a tumultuous mind. Which, again, begs the question of whether the “drinking” is literal, or a metaphor for something else. With not much other information to go off of, I’m kind of assuming it’s both at the moment. Ellie (in this state) probably is someone who drinks and enjoys doing it, but also someone who doesn’t feel any guilt over ignoring– or forgetting– his problems.

#7: Did Ellie also forget about Charles?

There are a strange number of lines in this song that could imply that Ellie isn’t just being ignorant, he’s actually forgetting about something big. That something could be the memory of his younger brother, just like how Charles forgot the memory of his elder. Runs in the family, I guess?

I woke up as an unaware drunkard

Starting at the very first line, you could begin to view the lyrics through the lens of someone who lacked information about their past: “Elliot woke up somewhere random mostly forgetting who he was in a hazy state of being.” To be clear, I’m not saying that that’s the interpretation of the line, just an interpretation of the line. It’s an interpretation that builds further connections with later lyrics, though.

And then The sacred mountain is covered in mud, it’s smeared and chipping away, ah yes, it's not half bad

That's my muddy, obstructed, and broken vision of the future- It’s not half bad

These lines focus on something being damaged or broken. Ignoring the original song’s references to Mount Penglai, which are completely absent from this MV, I would interpret a character’s “sacred mountain” as their central motivation. The pursuit of this goal would be very important, or “sacred” to them, and just as majestic as it is difficult to traverse and achieve. That pairs well with Ellie losing his view of the future, as both indicate that he’s completely forgotten what his purpose in life is.

And yet, he insists that it’s not half bad. Why? The most likely reason is that, for whatever reasons made him look like this, Ellie has just adopted the same sort of fatalistic behavior as Gumi did in her MV. However, you also might not think that forgetting something was bad if you ever forgot that you forgot it. For the majority of his life, Charles hasn’t thought that forgetting Ellie was a terrible ordeal because he had no clue that Ellie even existed. For Ellie, it could be frightening to know that you’ve forgotten a lot of who you are, but also freeing. That dichotomy could be what resulted in his current pensive yet playful behavior.

Getting drunk again and again, unexpectedly- Ah, it's not half bad I'm a drunkard unaware of my rival in love, so

I'm a drunkard unaware of the story

These lines are ones that really made me think that Ellie could have forgotten Charles in particular. I’m really not sure what “rival in love” was supposed to mean in the original song, but for Ellie, that rival being his brother makes sense. He doesn’t have a lover, as far as we’re aware, but he may have had to fight against Charles for his parents’ affections in the past. Many siblings have a competitive relationship with one another, so Charles could also be described as a rival who Ellie loves. Charles is an easy stand-in for “the story” as well, as long as we assume that the main plot of the killing game is considered “the story.” Charles is a major player in the killing game who’s already been going on a major story arc of his own, and, being Ellie’s little brother, it would make sense if Ellie’s priorities in the story were Charles-focused were he aware of the killing game.

What would it mean if Ellie had forgotten Charles, though? It seems most likely to me that, if both brothers came to forget one another, the trauma would have stemmed from the same event. But, if Charles forgot about Ellie because of that dog attack, Ellie could have only had time to forget who Charles was if he survived for long enough after the attack to have that revelation. Also, don’t know how important this is, but if the attack gave Charles childhood amnesia, would it have had the same effect on a 20+ year old man? I don’t know enough about amnesia to know if the same circumstances that would cause a child to discard their memories would also result in an adult forgetting about aspects of their life. Then again, Ellie almost certainly suffered greater damage than Charles, so any aftereffects may have been more severe.

I obviously can’t declare with 100% certainty that Ellie forgot who Charles was, nor can I even get particularly close. Still, these strange threads seemed to be too prominent to ignore, and this was the best solution I could find to them with the information we know now.

#8: Who is “you”?

Twice in Yoidoreshirazu’s lyrics does the singer reference a character as “you.”

Neglecting my happiness, I never want to sober up until it's time to listen to your voice I’m giving into you, but you don’t even have anything to say and my body is dyed

Please don't let this fleeting happiness go away, until I can lend an ear by your side I’m giving into you, but you don’t even have anything to say and my heart is dyed

This person is quite important to the singer, as the singer craves their voice and succumbs to their person, their body and soul colored by the experience. And yet, there’s a sense of isolation, as “you” refuses to say anything back to the singer. It’s a classic tale of immense devotion met with quiet rejection for Ellie to partake in with… someone. I don’t know who.

For what it’s worth, I do think the lyrics imply that this is another human person as opposed to, say alcohol. While alcohol can certainly have a profound impact on a person, causing their happiness to come and go and changing aspects of their physicality, “you” is referred to with enough human traits that it doesn’t match up. Maybe anthropomorphized alcohol could have a voice, but when has it ever needed you to listen to it? To my knowledge, lending an ear to the bottle itself is pretty unheard of.

So, is “you” Charles? That makes some sense, as Charles is the only relevant character to Ellie’s story that we know much about. Based on what we’ve already established about Ellie and Charles’ probable bond, Ellie could definitely fit the devoted older brother character in one flavor or another. But then, why would Charles have rejected him? Could be the whole childhood amnesia thing, but then Ellie would have had to exist during a period of time when Charles had already developed the amnesia and also remember who Charles was enough himself to care. Charles could have also just not liked him much, but that contradicts with the evidence presented back at Question 3.

Honestly, I don’t think Charles is “you,” despite my lack of other options. Perhaps “we” can figure this out?

worn out, we all look horrible until all thousand voices become hoarse

Yeah, there’s also a “we” in Yoidoreshirazu, which furthers the idea that, wherever he is/was, Ellie isn’t alone. The lyrics make it unclear whether the “we” is the singer + you (and maybe others), or just the singer + others– I’d probably lean that it probably wasn’t meant to include “you” in the original, but who knows how DRDTdev chose to interpret the song. Still, as alcohol isn’t normally described as “looking horrible,” this further implies that there are other human characters referenced in Ellie’s MV. In the case of “we,” Ellie also has to associate with these people enough to include himself as part of them. He’s in a group. Why? How? When?

#9: What differences are there between this MV and the original?

This one goes out to all the people who thought to go back and check the original Literature Girl Insane MV for differences while we were dealing with that whole project! It inspired me to try the same thing here, and see what happened.

Yoidoreshirazu is a much easier task than LGI, though, because it’s a simpler song and MV on all fronts. Both MVs only portray one character, one location, and one color for the lyrics to be transcribed in. (There’s also only, like, a max of twelve words on screen at a time, unlike David’s mental library.) For the most part, the two Yoidoreshirazus are very similar. None of the lyrics were edited from Magenetra’s translation on the vocaloid lyrics wiki, the lights turn on and off at the same times, and the DRDT version doesn’t appear to include any additional puzzles or easter eggs. Still, they aren’t exactly the same, so I’ll write out the differences I found playing them side by side for both my own and others’ purposes.

Gumi is on screen at the start, then quickly disappears and comes back, while it takes Ellie until the lyrics start to appear.

Not much extra to explain on this point. It may indicate that Ellie was missing or absent for a longer period of time, or at least that he’s more mysterious/quiet than Yoidoreshirazu’s Gumi.

Gumi has her tongue out a lot more at the beginning of the song.

Before Ellie takes off his hood (so, basically for the first half of the song), he only sticks his tongue out for one part of the song, from 0:52 (“getting drunk again and again”) to 0:59 (“my rival in love”). Meanwhile, Gumi has her tongue out from the moment the lyrics start (0:09, “I woke up as an unaware drunkard”) to the end of the first stanza (0:25, “all thousand voices become hoarse”), and then does it again from 0:43 to 0:59, the entirety of the first chorus (“the sacred mountain” to “rival in love”). This gives Gumi the appearance of being more rebellious, while Ellie is more moody.

Gumi smiles a lot more than Ellie.

When Gumi returns from the first chorus (1:00), she’s already smiling. While she shifts from a satisfied smirk to a smug grin to an enraptured beam to a content smile, she doesn’t actually stop smiling from the minute mark on until the vocals stop (2:10). Meanwhile, Ellie doesn’t smile at all until 1:50, and drops the playful tongue-out expression after a mere six seconds. The only lines that Ellie smiles for are “I’m living / Getting drunk again and again– Ah, it’s not half bad,” which is quite interesting. The overall result is the same as the bullet point above; that Gumi is at least better at pretending to be happy while Ellie is lost in his sorrows.

Ellie and Gumi’s expressions are pretty different in general.

Here are all of Ellie’s expressions versus all of Gumi’s expressions. In the end, Gumi actually had more expressions, which I wasn’t expecting. Some of their faces are mirrors to each other, while others are different.

Both Ellie and Gumi have a serious eyes closed face, a bored/neutral face, a bored tongue-out face, a scary face with big eyes, and a sleazy grin. The only unique faces Ellie has on top of those are the more playful tongue-out smile (present only when his hood is off) and the contemplative downward gaze. Gumi has a knowing smile, a hopeful smile, and a content smile. With those differences, we conclude that, on the whole, Gumi seems to have a bit more hope in the world, while Ellie is downcast. I’m sure you couldn’t have guessed that by the results of the last two points (/s).

Ellie has a costume change.

Not hard to notice; Ellie takes his hood off mid-MV while Gumi keeps her outfit the same.

There’s a part of the song where Ellie disappears while Gumi is present.

If anything in this question is going to be important, it’s probably this tidbit. At 1:39 in DRDT Yoidoreshirazu and 1:37 in original Yoidoreshirazu, the line “and my heart is dyed” plays. At this point in the MV, Gumi is present on screen, but Ellie is not. Gumi then disappears alongside Ellie for the following “sore wa” before both reappear for the chorus, but the difference is still notable. Something about the line “and my heart is dyed” caused DRDTdev to remove Ellie from the MV when he otherwise should have been there. This could mean that Ellie’s absence is what caused his heart to be dyed, that Ellie was actually absent when the heart dying occurred, or something else. Regardless, the difference in visuals– especially one that leaves the lyrics as the only thing on screen for you to look at– means that “and my heart is dyed” is likely the most important lyric of the song for Ellie.

Ellie is doing a whole lot more in the final chorus.

This is probably why I thought that Ellie had more sprites than Gumi did, other than the whole two outfits thing. Throughout the entire second chorus, Gumi only uses one face, the smile with big eyes. Meanwhile, Ellie rotates through four different faces before returning to the one he started with; scary stare -> neutral -> eyes closed -> grin -> tongue-out smile -> scary stare. It gives Ellie a whole lot more character than Gumi had in that final portion. Granted, the inverse is also true: Ellie switched faces less frequently than Gumi at the beginning of the song. It leads me to believe that the lyrics at the end of the song may be more important to Ellie than the lyrics of the start, as the end is featured as the most memorable portion.

#10: So, um… What did we learn, exactly?

Honestly… I don’t know. Unlike the Chapter 2 murder, which is intended to be basically solvable, or even the characters’ secrets, which have had much revealed with minimal possible permutations, so little has been confirmed about Ellie that it makes it near impossible to settle on one answer as absolute truth. I can write out my current best theory about what may be going on with Ellie, but it’s honestly so implausible that I don’t really think it’s going to be canon myself.

If we prioritize the information given to us in this music video and the Q&As and disregard the effects that our conclusion might have on the story of DRDT as a whole, then I think the most likely option was actually Option D, Ellie became this way after he died. I think that Ellie was a bright young man– maybe not perfect, but still an older brother that Charles could look up to. Ellie and Charles were really close when Charles was a little kid, and they loved to hang out and eat pancakes together.

One day– maybe when Charles was about 4 and Ellie was about 16?– Ellie saw a dog on the side of the road and, loving dogs, brought his baby brother over to say hi to it. Unfortunately, the dog was feral and mean, and it bit Charles on the arm, injuring him greatly. Defending Charles, Ellie attacked the dog and told Charles to run away for safety. Charles made it back to his parents, bleeding and horribly traumatized, while Ellie did not. Ellie never came back home, so his parents had no choice but to assume he was dead. They chose to conceal the existence of their elder son from their younger, whether to avoid triggering Charles’ phobias or because they too wished him erased from the history books.

However, even though the world believed that Ellie had died, he actually survived! Though, not in one piece. He was probably severely wounded (perhaps leaving behind scars on any part of his body that wasn’t shown in the MV), and, just like his brother, suffered amnesia that caused him to forget who he was. From there, it depends on how he would have survived the dog attack.

If he barely emerged victorious from the battle due to his own power, then, with no memories, he was forced to live on the street. He gained his washed-up attitude from experiencing life’s hardships while being right on the cusp of remembering something more.

If he received aid from and then was indebted to a group like XF-Ture Tech, he may have been given some kind of help, but not without a cost. He probably started working for them in some capacity, even if he wasn’t a fan of his work/coworkers, and gained his washed-up attitude from years of nihilistically supporting the shady company.

The MV takes place in a time close to present day, when Ellie is reflecting on the state of his life and what he does remember. He hates the people he’s surrounded by, and can only lean on his bad habits (substance abuse and/or appearing more uncaring/airheaded than he actually is) to get by. He knows that he’s a shell of a person with no memories of his past or aspirations for his future, but there isn’t really anything he can do about it, right…? The vague memories of a “rival in love” and a main “story” are the only things giving him a taunting yet unerasable hope.

Woohoo, drama. But, like, that’s ridiculous, right? The secret literally said that Ellie was dead! How the hell could he still be alive? Did the mastermind’s source– whatever it was– just have the facts wrong, or are they actually lying? Wouldn’t the Cuevas family have looked harder for the body? Does amnesia even work like that? Does XF-Ture Tech even work like that???

Needless to say, I am still quite confused. The answer above is still the answer that makes the most sense to me, but it also has its own obvious flaws. I feel like I must just be straight up wrong about the identity of the Cuevas family, the method of Ellie’s death, the age at which Ellie appears in this MV, or something like that, but I don’t know what it would be. Even more than usual, I’d love to hear everyone else’s thoughts on this mysterious character. I feel like more analysis of the guy is going to come out soon, so hopefully some of the more numerical data like trying to pin down Ellie’s age or noticing the differences in the two MVs will help someone else make a breakthrough. Still, I encourage you to come forth with anything you have to say, because I want to hear it.

Thus concludes your instructional pamphlet on how to write an essay on a music video at a rate of 54 words per second of the music video. Thanks for reading!

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #elliot cuevas #charles cuevas #fanganronpa #yoidoreshirazu mv #i “finished” the analysis hooray #wish i had a conclusion for it #this was a very different theory to write than usual but that did make it fun #i feel like i totally lost my mind in there somewhere though so hopefully i don't come out looking like too much of a clown #the heart is dyed thing dude... what does it mean...#also glad people are listening to yoidoreshirazu in this house we stan kanaria #my theories

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chamomiletealeaf · 2 months

Note

hello! I’m writing for TF141 and I especially want to write for Gaz. However for some reason I keep just lumping him with the same personality as Soap. Tips ;-;??

Hi! I'm so flattered you asked me for advice omg :) Well, from what I've noticed in the game, I personally think Gaz is very intuitive. I think he watches from afar and knows what's gonna happen before it actually does, but doesn't give his opinion unless asked. Part of that I think is one, like I said before, his intuition, but also his training and guidance from Price. I personally think Gaz has had the best character development of all the Task Force since the MW reboot, because he goes from this frustrated recruit not knowing what is too much for him and how to handle it when it is too much, to someone so in control of himself that he's gained phenomenal intuition and self control. He's quiet, calm, an observer like Simon, but he actually is quite snarky (hence his cocky little jokes to Laswell and Price in the MW2 campaign). In the first MW reboot campaign I believe it was, where Gaz had to lead the doctor around the mercs from the security cameras I think showed exceptional intuition and self control since he was so sure she was getting out of there alive and what routes to take. I think that also had to do with just him being a good soldier, but he was very confident (even if it was a playable scene and not a cinematic one, we played as Gaz.) Gaz is always calm when he just knows a situation will turn out alright, and if he visibly panics? You better panic too lol. Soap also led Ghost around mercs in I believe the second campaign? Might have been the third but I believe Soap is just handy with tech due to his demolitions training. Both scenes are very similar, but I feel like Gaz works under pressure more efficiently than Soap mostly because of Soap's temper (Like the scene were Soap almost killed Makarov.)

Anyway, that's just me rambling about my pookie Gaz lol, but I would say the main similarities and differences between Soap and Gaz are:

Differences

Soap is impulsive, hot headed, loud, while Gaz is quiet, a man who thinks before he acts and makes sure everyone's on board with a plan before he jumps into action, intuitive, only gives his two cents when asked, a great advice giver and listener (that last one is just from what vibes I personally get from him rather than from observation throughout the campaigns.) And I think he handles pressure and his temper better.

Similarities

Both Gaz and Soap are both witty and silly. They both are able to find that childlike joy despite the horrors they witness. However, they both know when to be serious even if Soap is a bit more out of pocket than Gaz.

I love both so much, and I'm not saying Gaz is a better soldier than Soap by any means, but that they're different, and handle situations differently.

So when it comes to writing Gaz, I would take all of this into consideration such as: How would a calm approach to this situation be?/ How would observing this situation rather than engaging in it affect the characters?/ What advice could be given to other characters from a well thought out point of view (Gaz's pov)?

I feel like Gaz really thinks before he acts unlike Soap.

And if you wanna get more fun with it, I would ask myself: How would two knuckleheads (Gaz and Soap) observe and react to a funny or shocking situation while staying in character?/ How do clashing personalities bond? In this case, their humor is the same, so writing situations where the two of them are together and giggling at something silently in front of whoever they're laughing at I think is the perfect balance between observing and acting on impulse/lack of self control, thus blending their personalities together.

Sorry if that was a lot, I had a lot to say. I love talking about character personalities and actually evaluated Soap's personality for a college psychology of personality final lol (Got an A).

I hope all of my yapping helps at least a little bit!

#call of duty #cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #gaz garrick #gaz cod #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap mactavish #soap cod

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call-me-copycat · 4 months

Text

Escaping The Night (Part 8)

➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules (Requests are open + Some info about me)

▶ Characters: Shinso x Fem! Reader + Father/Mentor Aizawa (platonic)

▶ Genre: Angst to Fluff + Slowburn

▶ Summary: Aizawa takes you to register your quirk, and after you get to meet Eri. Following that, Aizawa tells you that school is starting for you tomorrow.

▶ Word Count: 5047

▶ Warnings:

- A little bit of derealization during the meeting with Eri

- Little bit of PTSD experienced by the reader

➜ [Part 1]

➜ [Part 2]

➜ [Part 3]

➜ [Part 4]

➜ [Part 5]

➜ [Part 6]

➜ [Part 7]

{This is Part 8}

➜ [Part 9] Coming Soon!

And soon enough, he was sure you'd be living a happy and fulfilling life. He just had to keep going, for the greater good.

The drive was quiet after that, the only sounds being the quiet sounds of the radio and the rushing of warm air that was let into the car. You sat as you usually did, knees facing away from Eraserhead and your attention directed to the world outside the window. Although the calm atmosphere gave off an outer mask of safety, you loathed how in tune your behavior was beginning to become in response to Eraserhead's actions.

The drive was unusually long, and as time wore on you began to become more antsy due to the lack of knowledge of what was next. Eventually larger city buildings began to fill your window, and it soon made sense to you that city hall would naturally be located out in the city rather than the little suburbs or town.

The car came to a halt in a small parking lot, and as you stepped out you were immediately greeted with the chilled air blowing in your face. Shivering a bit, you studied your surroundings, unfamiliar since this was Honei.

*I downloaded this game and the city is stunning (　･`ω･´)✨ I'm going to use it lots more to map out places better since I struggle to see what authors describe in writing. The building in the story is the yellow one right there.*

On the other side of the building you parked by was a large mall, a staircase leading up to an outer balcony and paths built over the road to help citizens safely walk throughout the city. It was a busy day, with people being seen pretty much as far as the eye could see. Looking up at the building just led to nothing new being found out, the slight yellow color not doing much to make up for its overall mundaneness.

Aizawa made his way over to your side of the car, signaling to you with a simple wave of the hand to follow. You complied, no matter how much spite was filling your heart, your mind always knew better.

You turned a corner from where you two came from and followed the short path to the entrance of the building, although looking at the end of the little area you saw what you believed was a police officer and some caution tape. Sensing your curiosity, Aizawa filled you in on what you were missing.

"They're just cleaning up some rubble from an old villain attack. Nothing out to the ordinary"

You don't know what compelled you to rebut back.

"And how much of that damage was caused by the hero?"

The lack of response didn't grant you the slightest amount of satisfaction, but it was already said. For a moment, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or not, regret peeked it's eyes over at you. Dark and beady.

"Who knows. Let's get this done with."

He didn't give much of a response before opening the door and silently commanding you in while also cutting off any more spiteful responses.

And that's how you found yourself sitting in a small windowless room like many others around you, an empty paper*¹ in front of you waiting for you to fill in its blanks. Eraserhead sat in a cushioned chair off to another corner of the room, his arms crossed as he waited for you to finish. It was something perceived as so seemingly simple; after all, who knows their quirk better than the owner itself?

You did the best you could, filling in the basics first. However, as you skimmed the whole document, your fingers began to twitch. It was rather... Lengthy. Questions after questions filled your vision, most of which you realized you didn't know how to fill in (addresses, dates, serial numbers, etc). And since this was a formal document, you couldn't just try your best. No... You'd need to get help.

Looking over at Eraserhead through the corner of your eye, you clenched the pen in your hand tighter. Heaving a breath, you decided to do what you could. You'd run into the problem later.

The basics were filled out. Your name, quirk, and updates on your quirk answered the best you could. However, the pen froze just as the fingers holding it did. It was daunting, seeing how much more information was needed compared to the last time you filled it out. Physically being able to look at the blanks brought about a new awareness, it finally clicking in your mind just how little you knew about your situation.

The scraping of a chair across the carpet drew you out of your thoughts, and looking to your side you realized that Eraserhead had brought himself to sit right next to you. You both silently shared a look, the silence filled with tension coming from your side. It quickly faded to understanding as you let him take a look at the paper, then going to jot down everything he explained right after.

At long last, once you finished filling out what you could, the bright rays of the afternoon sunshine greeted your eyes, helping to warm up your frosty body after being inside the cold building for so long. Stepping out, you stood in place for a second, taking in your surroundings once more.

You noticed an increase in people since it was midday, although this group mainly consisted of a younger age group compared to the older people that visited in the morning. There must've been a building cooking something nearby, because the savory smell of either pork or chicken was wafting throughout the air.

It was nice in a way, seeing a new area you hadn't before. All the new sights and people were a bit overwhelming, but it held such an acute feeling of comfort, one that you couldn't pinpoint. As you saw Eraserhead in the corner of your eye, your remembered what he had promised you earlier and began to walk back to where his parked car was sitting.

A sudden hand to your shoulder caused you to freeze.

"Looks like I completely forgot about food. Let's get something in your stomach, okay?" Aizawa looked up and around, and you realized he most likely was not familiar with this area any more than you were.

"There's a few restaurants around here, you can pick any you'd like to - my treat." Upon receiving a blank look, he knew he'd have to learn to be more stubborn with you in retaliation, even if his heart wasn't in it. "I'm not one to offer this very often, either you pick something or I will."

"I'd rather not eat here"

Your response was forced. Everywhere, all around you, were people. You had never eaten at a restaurant before, but you had seen too many damaged and taken over by villains to feel comfortable casually going to one to eat.

"So we'll just go home to eat then, that's what you're saying?"

Home.

You didn't like that at all. Him saying it as if you lived there (which you technically did). As if it was permanent. As if you had always been there. As if you will always be there.

Aizawa was about ready to pull out his hair. He tried being nice and giving offers, yet nothing could make you budge. It was odd for him, forcing himself to be so kind for so long. But he knew he had to keep going. It was all for your sake, after all.

No response was expected, and so he simply took the initiative to head back to his place. He wasn't exactly one that liked to stay home when he could've been productive, but he decided that he couldn't complain. You were still new, and you still had a shell to break out of. If you ever would in the end.

The drive was long, the rest of the day even longer. Once home, you ou simply sat looking out the windows in silence, ignoring every offer of books or drawing paper given to you by an antsy Aizawa.

Truth be told, you felt like you could burst away at any second. Without having anybody to fight or protect, you constantly felt as if you had to be on guard. There was nowhere for your energy to go, and you couldn't bear to sit around and not do anything.

Looking at the darkening sky, you made a silent promise to yourself that things would get better. That you'd be okay in the end... That everything you went through wouldn't go to waste.

The next morning, you caught Aizawa off guard by being up before he was, pacing around the living room as silent as a cat. At 4 in the morning.

"You're up early."

You stopped pacing with a swift halt, and Aizawa could see the tension from where you stood with your back to him. He could tell you were starting to feel the withdrawal. The feelings of loneliness and confusion that normally accompanied having something dear taken away.

"Where are we heading now?"

Your voice was quiet, but still enough to catch him off guard.

Looking around the dark room, Aizawa make a split second decision.

"You're starting school tomorrow."

A beat of silence passed through the room, moving slowly as if it was going through molasses. You didn't say a word, yet you looked up from the floor to the roof, your back still to Aizawa. There was little that surprised you at this point, and you had long ago accepted the fact that these were the consequences that came from your actions. It still hurt.

"For now..."

You could hear him grabbing his keys, indicating another event or activity.

"We're going to see someone special. Someone I'd like you to meet."

The cold air once again nipped at you once you exited the warm apartment, but you hardly flinched. It was something you were used to. Something you had to get used to. It certainly didn't go unnoticed by Aizawa, ever so observant.

The drive was shorter, and this time it led to a quaint two story house, an older one that was quite large in size. The paint was peeling, but it was overall in rather good condition, the colors providing a very rustic atmosphere.

You followed Aizawa up the pathway, watching as he rang the buzzer to the gate and spoke into some connected speaker, before following him through the gate once it opened.

The door almost immediately swung open to reveal an aging lady, her hair tired up in a bun and wrinkles decorating her face, with a much younger lady in the background who had her hair up in a ponytail, and was wearing an apron and boots.

"Shota, you were just here! It feels like you never left," the older lady spoke, ushering him in, to which you followed.

The house smelled clean, and it had a very homey feeling, one of comfort and familiarity. It smelled of honey and lemon, along with some kind of pastry that must've been baking. It reminded you of a grandmother's house. The surfaces were polished, and lining the bookshelves were numerous pictures of many different children, all at various ages. Each were smiling and doing something different in every photo.

The lady in the background hummed while mopping what you supposed was the kitchen floor, before looking over directly at you.

"Oh? You're new, aren't you?"

Aizawa looked up, nodding before gesturing to you.

"She's new, yes. I decided it would be in both of our best interests if I brought her with me today."

Listening closely, you could hear the squeals of children laughing upstairs and outside. Was this place some kind of daycare, you guessed? It felt like some sort of extra reality, it was starkly quiet on the inside of the house, yet you could almost feel the comfort of the many little lives that would've normally been bustling around. It brought back old memories you wanted held down, the familiarity swallowing you and your mind in it's tar-like stickiness. It was suffocating. You couldn't breath. You wanted to leave. To get out.

Looking all around, you trembled, feeling trapped just as you did on that fateful night. Heaving a soft breath, you calmed your racing heart, looking at the ground for the time being to prevent any future panic.

The older lady was gone by the time you looked up, and Aizawa waved for you to follow him down a new hallway. As you did, you noticed the wallpaper becoming more colorful, with various cartoon bees and cats littering a blue sky and green grass background. It was getting harder to breath. You didn't know why it was so difficult. Why it was so intimidating to be somewhere so innocent. But it wrung out a reaction from you that you had never seen nor expected before.

Reaching a door at the end, you waited with baited breath as Aizawa knocked, once, twice. The hallways had little lights on the floor and soft yellow lamps along the top of the walls, coating the dark area on an old yellow glow. Time seemed to pause as you stood there, wondering who was behind the door. Faintly, you could hear some shuffling before a muffled, "coming!"

The door opened to reveal a younger girl about 7 years old, dressed in a flowery sweater and stripped leggings. She had gray hair and striking red eyes, along with a little horn that sat on her right side of her forehead. Your eyes widened, not having expected to meet with a child that day.

Her face of confusion upon seeing you almost immediately vanished as she smiled at the sight of Eraser, opening her arms at him.

"Mr. Aizawa! I didn't think you'd come today!"

He smiled, patting her head a bit before stepping back, "Just felt like visiting today, you could say."

"I'm so glad! I made a new drawing, come see!", she exclaimed as he followed her into the room. You stood on the outside, curiously peering in to keep an eye on Aizawa in case he called you to do something.

It was isolating, seeing them converse with such familiarity while you stood and awkwardly watched. Why did he say he wanted you there? So he could show how much he liked to see other kids, so he could show off how close he was to others while he held you at arms length?

Your eyes slanted into slits. Why were you feeling this way? What lowered your self-esteem so low to the point of being jealous over a little girl? Why did your heart pang everytime you saw how kindly she was treated? Why did it hurt seeing her have such a happy life when you struggled throughout your entire childhood?

It wasn't fair, but you had learned to suck it up from a young age. A deceased mother and a callous father meant you didn't live such an easy life. You stopped looking at everyone else's good lives, learned to eventually ignore the pangs of jealousy until you forgot they existed.

Your moment of bitterness was cut short when you felt a soft tug at your shirt, only to look down and see her staring directly at you. Before you could do or say anything (not that you would've), she beat you to it.

"Aren't you cold outside?"

You realized she was pointing at your plain sweater, and Aizawa internally beat himself for not buying you better winter gear. Your heart beat harder. She was worried about you. She didn't know you, and yet she still worried. You had never met a child like that before.

"Not particularly."

She thumbed the fabric, and you didn't know why, but you let her. She didn't feel like a threat, and you didn't feel she was as dangerous as someone like Aizawa. Her actions were soft and caring, slow and gentle. Most kids you met were the exact opposite. It was nice, seeing somebody your own pace.

"What's your name?"

She was a child, you reminded yourself, it was only natural to be curious. Yet, it had been a long time since you interacted with children. You didn't know their mannerisms, and how to make sure they wouldn't cry.

"[Name]"

She looked up into your eyes once more and smiled. You looked back, and saw a heaviness in them, masked behind her current happy mood. Something that was held in her eyes told you that she saw something she should never have for someone her age. It held a secret fear, a worry that was otherwise hidden from the rest of her facial features. But there's a reason why they say the eyes never lie.

"Well, [Name], I'm glad I got to meet you! Are you friends with Mr. Aizawa?"

"No."

You knew your response was a bit too quick, but there was no going back once it was said. You saw her frown a bit before relaxing again, resuming her smile.

"Oh, well I hope you two become friends one day, I know Mr. Aizawa can seem scary, but he's actually really nice! He'll show you!" She turned to look at the man in question, "Right, Mr. Aizawa?"

He smiled softly in response before nodding. You had never seen him look this way before. So relaxed and... Happy. It was like a whole other person. Seeing him put on another face so easily should've startled you, worried you about what it was hiding. Yet, for some reason you didn't think of that at the moment.

"Here!"

The girl grabbed your hands, and you bent lower in response to her tugging. She gently wrapped a scarf around your neck. "I don't need this one anymore since Mirio got me a new one, but you can have this one so you're not cold!"

Looking down, you saw the scarf was entirely red, the same shade as her eyes. You rubbed the soft fabric between your fingers, before offering her a bow of gratitude.

"I'll take care of it. Thank you "

She laughed in response, "You're welcome! You're very funny!" She chuckled.

You failed to find what was so funny about your actions, but Aizawa was already telling her goodbye.

"We'll be heading out now, thank you for the scarf. She appreciates it... just a little differently than others would "

The girl hugged her backpack that was once sitting on the floor to her stomach, "Don't worry! I'm different too! Now she's not alone!"

Aizawa chuckled before waving and closing the door. As you walked back outside, you replayed the entire visit through your mind once more. More layers were unraveling, and you were beginning to lose track of what it was you were searching for.

Before you went into another spiral, the door to the building opened, and out rushed that little girl, who ran up to the now closed gate. She was followed by the young lady from before, frantic about trying to get the girl out of the snow.

"Eri! My name's Eri by the way!" She smiled and waved goodbye as you stood by the open car door, before the girl was picked up by the lady.

"It was nice meeting you, [Name]!"

As she smiled and waved, so happy despite such a minimal interaction, you stood and watched until she wasn't able to be seen anymore, brought back inside the warm house. Slowly, you raised your hand and waved to the empty air, a small smile stroking your face before it all fell back into the same monotonous glare.

The car was warm. It was always warm.

You couldn't pinpoint the feeling that was building up inside of you... But it was new, and... Odd.

One side of you hurt for some unknown reason, perhaps the feelings of isolation were finally getting to you? Maybe because you had been opened up to a new perspective once you saw you weren't there only one Aizawa knew? Who knows...

The other side felt warm. Warm and... Soft. Happy in a way that you were cared for by someone so new to you. It rarely happened on the streets. Sometimes someone would bring you some food or a blanket every now and then, but for the most part it was you taking care of everyone else. You couldn't bear the feeling of being a burden. It was dishonorable. Disrespectful.

Once back at the apartment, Aizawa stopped you before you made your way up the steps to his floor.

"Let's take a little walk. The sun's out and I've been cooping you up inside for too long."

There wasn't much to say except for a nod, which you then turned to follow him down the sidewalk. As you kept with his pace, you noticed that he walked a bit more freely than his usual walk, with his hands in his pockets and a slight jaunt to his step.

It was quiet between the two of you, but the sounds of the town surrounded you both. It was the weekend, so families were out and about, with the sidewalks littered with people of all sorts.

You didn't think Aizawa had anywhere to go in mind, but you were kindly surprised when you both eventually made your way to the harbor, passing the docks where the boats were sitting in the water.

Looking around, you saw fishermen unloading nets of fish into large containers and others preparing for fishing trips of their own. Some were already setting out, but the larger boats were parked.

The sun was out just as Aizawa had said, and it made for a pleasant afternoon. As you followed in his steps and sat down next to him on a bench facing the boats, you realized you hadn't had a day to yourself to do... Nothing, not in a long, long while.

You watched as a boat blared its horn as it slowly backed out, remembering the sound as you had heard it plenty passing by at night.

Next to you, Aizawa pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket before lighting one, just having it as an afterthought as he set it in his mouth before crossing his arms.

A beat of silence passed between you two once more before Aizawa spoke up suddenly.

"My father was a fisherman... He'd always be gone in the early mornings and late at night. Sometimes he'd bring some of his catch home with him," leisurely looking up at a passing kite a child was running with, he paused before continuing.

"He had a little tugboat that he always rode when it wasn't time to catch anything. Sometimes I got to ride it with him as long as I got up with him early in the morning..."

You didn't respond, but Aizawa knew you were listening. He softly smiled at the memories as he looked over the boats, feeling at home with the sights and smells that surrounded the area.

Why was he telling you this, you wondered? You knew it was most likely to get you used to him, to see him more as a person than an event or cause of force. But... You didn't resent it. It was odd, but you didn't mind the stories, as they were harmless after all.

You both sat there until the sun began to set, and you knew it was time to go when you began shivering once more.

That night, it was just you and Aizawa. No Present Mic or any other visitors. It seemed it was always quiet between you two.

While Aizawa cooked in the kitchen, you looked around for something to do. Finding a blank piece of paper sitting idly on the coffee table, you set to work folding it.

As Aizawa made his way to the living room to watch TV while the food cooked, he noticed you folding a paper into some origami creation.

"Hmm... Dog?"

You paused your folding to glace at him in confusion before continuing.

So it was not a dog, he now knew.

As you folded, he couldn't help but be impressed at the craftsmanship and delicate way you were folding the edges. It reminded him of his mother...

"A cat then?"

Still no response from you but you did give him a glance. He didn't know if he was getting closer or further.

As you finished, you gently set the paper down, looking at it for a second. Wringing your fingers, you felt empty now that you didn't have anything to do.

"I see ears... A tail... It looks like some kind of canine?"

"Canidae."

He perked up at your response, glad to get something for once.

"It's... A fox."

"I see."

Aizawa took a sip of his drink as he saw you idly flipping and folding the remnants of the leftover paper, before offering to you, "There's some books in my room. The shelf next to my work desk to the right of my bed," He shrugged, "I don't know if any will be to your suiting though, they're a little old."

As the timer for the kitchen went off, he saw you stand and walk off as he made his way into the kitchen.

Aizawa's room was about as empty as the rest of the house. A single bed that was hardly used, dark red blanket and black sheets. A work desk to the right of it, that extended so it fit in the corner, like an L.

Flipping through the few books he had on the shelf, you pulled out one with a light blue color you thought you recognized. It was an older book, but it was the autobiography of someone who lived through the first generation. They spoke of the horrors that they had to go through as the world was plunged into chaos and despair at the emergence of quirks. You were the 5th generation, with Aizawa being somewhere in between 4 and 5.

You frowned a bit as you saw it was bent, so someone had clearly folded the pages back around as they read (only one person it could be...).

*As much as I love him, I hate the way he reads*

Ignoring it, you clutched the book to your chest as it was something familiar. Something you were able to recognize. It felt nice during all the new things being forced onto you.

You walked out back to the living room, not wanting Aizawa on your case about being in his room for too long. Although the logical part of your mind told you he genuinely didn't care about it, the emotional side held onto the fear that was born from each visit to your father's room in the past. It never seemed to diminish, no matter how much sensibility you threw at it.

Sitting down again, you opened the book to read as you did once in the past. It was clearly older than the version you had, the cover worn with creases and tears, the pages yellowing. On the inside of the cover was a small note scribbled in pen, but you just passed by it, eager to get to the story you knew of.

"Ah, now that's a classic."

You paused your search in order to look over at Aizawa, who was plating the food he had made. Noticing your attention was on him, he nudged his head in the direction of the book you held.

"I read that plenty when I was your age... Sometimes I'd have it on me to read when I took a break during missions."

Of all the books he had, you had to pick that one. The one his mother was always reading. The one gift from her he had actually kept after leaving. The one reminder he had of his youth...

It made him slightly uneasy... You reminded him of his mother in ways more than one. It was a childish way of thinking for a grown man, but it was the truth.

Aizawa didn't let you go to bed that night without a brief lecture as to what your school-life would be like. He wanted to make sure you knew as much as you could, so you wouldn't be left in the dark anywhere. The last thing he needed was you getting overwhelmed and running off somewhere again.

"Using the measurements received from the tailor at the mall, I put in for your uniform a few days ago. I'll go get it for you in a second."

You nodded.

"I already got you everything you need. Your bag's hanging on the hook next to mine by the door. It has everything you need in it; writing supplies, notebooks, the textbooks for classes, all of it."

Glancing over at the wall by the door, you nodded. You couldn't see it, but you knew it was there. When you turned back, you saw Aizawa sliding a piece of paper over to you on the coffee table.

"Your schedule. It's a little different for everyone, but either way you'll have me as your homeroom teacher like everyone else. You met Hizashi not too long ago, he's the English teacher. As much as he jokes, you've still got to treat him with respect."

So much was being thrown your way all at once. You normally had no trouble holding onto large amounts of information, so you tried not to let it get to you.

"During my homeroom class we normally train by going over different scenarios and things like that. It's where your mind and body will be trained in order to learn to think and react like a hero-"

"I'd rather not..."

Aizawa sighed. He had a slight understanding at this point of your thought process. It was blurry, but it was a forming image.

"You don't have to be a hero if you don't want to. Nobody's going to force you. But with all you know, plus all your experience, it'd be beneficial for you to learn to hone your quirk better."

Your expression furrowed a bit, but you left it at that. There was a mutual understanding that arguing wouldn't get anywhere.

"Now as for your classmates..." Aizawa heaved a breath, not knowing where to even start. "They're a bit... They can be a little rambunctious at times. Don't let that discourage you though, they're quite smart and can hold themselves up pretty well." He smiled to himself slightly, thinking about it.

"Don't worry too much, you'll be in good hands."

Aizawa knew they'd love you.

A/N:

And we're back once more! I wish everyone a successful New Year! Think of this as a little New Year's Gift (　ﾟᵕﾟ)

That being said, I do apologize for being slow at writing! Between work and school, I'm pretty much kept busy 24/7, so I've been struggling to get some free time ꒰ ᐢ ◞‸◟ᐢ꒱

I'm working on Chapter 9 along with the other many requests I've gotten! I'm trying to get as much done as I can! ✌('∀-)-☆

I do have something to say to those still with me though:

Thank you for staying with me.

Wishing you all a lovely New Year, start safe and healthy for me please! 🌸(♡´ ꒳ `*♡)人(♡*´ ꒳ `♡)🌸

Tag List:

♡ @bingewatchintilldawn

♡ @talia-the-gemini

♡ @cactilli

♡ @breadglasses

♡ If you wish to be tagged/taken off the list, please let me know! Feel free to do this either by messages or by giving me an ask :⁠-⁠)

Notes:

*1 - I made out a whole quirk registration form online. Why? I have no clue. I think I'll post it when it's fully finished.

年2023/ 月12/ 日31

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name-6775 · 11 days

Text

I started rereading the kotlc books some while ago and I have been writing down all the quotes that I have been able to find and that I have liked from each book, so now that the kotlc quote bracket is finished I wanted to share a part of my list:

Keeper of the lost cities:

“Okay,” she agreed. If he refused to be serious, so would she. “Fine. I’m an elf. Am I supposed to help Frodo destroy the ring and save Middle-earth? Or do I have to make toys in the North Pole?” - Sophie

“There’s no reason to worry” - Alden

“I have a feeling you can do pretty much anything you put your mind to. So stop doubting yourself and go prove me right” - Keefe

“I’d rather be punished for making the right decision than live with the guilt of making the wrong one for the rest of my life.” - Sophie

Keeper of the lost cities - Exile:

“Sparkles make everything better” - Biana

‘Those who wander are not lost’

‘Let the past be your guide’

“Follow the pretty bird across the sky” - Jolie / Prentice

“While I’m not the one who cast the first sparks, I am willing to help keep the flames alive” - Fintan

“Remember, if you fall apart, then all of this was a waste. Breaking Prentice led us to you—and my dad always believed you were the key to everything. It’s why he worked so hard to find you. So if you let the guilt break you, then everything he did was for nothing” - Alvar

“You’d be surprised at how powerful hope can be” - Terik

“I know I crack a lot of jokes, Sophie, but . . . that’s just because it’s easier, you know? It’s how I deal. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I do. A lot” - Keefe

“We could all use a little more weird in our lives” - Fitz

Keeper of the lost cities - Everblaze:

“There’s no reason to worry too much” - Alden

“I’ve realized now that our world doesn’t define us. We define our world” - Grady

“Right. Because our family doesn’t decide who we are. We decide who we are. Believe me, it drives my parents crazy. And sometimes that’s the only thought that gets me through the day” - Keefe

“The right road is rarely the easy road. And no war was ever fought without casualties” - Mr. Forkle

“There will always be people who disappoint us, and it’s up to us to decide when to forgive, and when to walk away” - Edaline

“Hindsight is a dangerous game to play” - Edaline

“And if whatever you’re chasing starts to catch up with you—run, don’t walk away” - Edaline

“It takes a special person to see darkness inside of someone and not condemn them” - Bronte

“Because of one simple fact: I knew it was right” - Alden

“It reminds us just how small we really are, and how big the rest of the world is by comparison. One person is not the source of anything—it’s millions of pieces all working together. And it shows us that there’s always hope—always light. No matter how much darkness we might be facing” - Edaline

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc sophie #kotlc fandom #kotlc quotes #kotlc everblaze #kotlc exile

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just-another-josh · 6 months

Text

Kara

Today is a good day.

No, today is a great day.

Lena continued to remind herself of that over the course of the last two hours.

It was an incredibly important day for her and her wife. Not just that, it was an important day for their family’s legacy. Today was one of those milestone days, the type that signified potential fully realized, the recognition of years of hard work and achievement. A cause for celebration with champagne, victory speeches, and overindulgent parties.

Lena knew this, she believed this.

And yet, all she wanted to do right now was punch Cat Grant in her stupid, Botoxed face.

Four months ago, Cat pulled Kara aside after a CatCo staff meeting and informed her EIC that she intended to run for president in the next election. “If a Cheeto-skinned, glorified game show host can become President of the United States, I should be a shoo-in,” she had reasoned with her. In order to avoid any blind trust complications and because presidential campaigns are very expensive, Cat decided to put CatCo Worldwide Media up for sale.

Lena was greeted by an ugly-crying Kryptonian when she arrived home that night. Cat’s departure was a double blow to her wife: Not only was Kara losing her mentor, but now she had to contend with a new owner who may or may not share the same journalistic integrity as Cat. Nightmares of another Andrea Rojas or Morgan Edge-like monster lording over the bullpen kept the hero up into the early morning hours after Cat dropped her bombshell.

Lena made a solid effort to reassure her wife that everything would work out for the best but when the company was put on the market the next Monday morning, the announcement quickly led to Lena’s assurances becoming hollow promises.

By the end of the week, the bidding war for the media giant had been whittled down to three frontrunners:

Roland Daggett: owner of Daggett Industries with reported ties to organized crime in Gotham.

Simon Stagg: owner of Stagg Enterprises who was currently involved in no-less than a dozen federal investigations for improper disposal of waste generated from his chemical plants.

The final bidder was no stranger to National City or the Superfriends; Maxwell Lord: owner of Lord Technologies and an all-around asshole, who appeared to have crawled out from whatever rock he’d been hiding under.

Lena knew that none of these parasites gave a damn about the fourth estate, nor would they want Supergirl watching over their shoulders while they engaged in whatever reprehensible activities men of their caliber got up to. Lena had no doubt that they’d use CatCo to steer whatever narratives that would profit them the most; much like Morgan Edge intended to do six years prior.

Bottomline, Kara was going to be out of a job if any of those criminals got their hands on CatCo.

Kara did everything she could to talk Cat out of selling to any of them, but Cat had no other viable candidates to sell to. Kara spent the better part of ten days straight trying to get Cat to see reason but was met with failure at every turn. Lena watched Kara sink further into depression as the days passed and it broke her heart.

On day eleven, Lena had had enough of watching her wife suffer. She had Jess arrange an emergency meeting with her finance and mergers/acquisitions department heads. There was only one item of business on the agenda, did L-Corp have enough in its coffers to purchase CatCo. She knew acquiring the media giant was going to cost a lot more than it did when she stole it out from under Morgan Edge. Luckily, the answer was a resounding yes. Since regaining her position as CEO of L-Corp, Lena had led the company to an unprecedented level of profitability. A proposal was quickly drafted. The minutia of the proposal was almost identical to the last time L-Corp purchased the conglomerate, save for one big difference: Kara, not Lena, would be named CEO of CatCo Worldwide Media; not just the print media, but TV, streaming, and online content.

Proposal in hand, it took Lena the better part of the evening (and early morning) to convince her wife that she was fully capable of doing the job. Hell, she’d been doing it for the last eighteen months as Cat became less involved in the day-to-day operations. Kara’s objections to Lena spending Lena’s money to save Kara’s job were quickly shot down, “You forget darling, it’s not my money, it’s our money. We’re married, what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, you dork.” Finally seeing the light, Lena sent her wife to deliver the proposal directly to Cat; it took her less than twelve hours to accept their offer and approve moving forward with the sale. To say that she was relieved that L-Corp, and by extension Lena and Kara, would be running the company that she built with her own blood, sweat, and tears would be an understatement.

Now, Lena sat in CatCo’s executive conference room. Kara seated to her right, Jess to her left, and half of L-Corp’s legal department bracketing them. On the other side of the table, Cat, and her legal team. Lena had been fortunate enough to avoid attending the negotiation meetings in person; instead choosing to have her attorneys there as her proxies. Occasionally, she’d join the proceedings remotely whenever her two cents was needed. Today, however, was the big day. All the principles needed to be on-hand to sign the final contracts. Lena was initially excited to finalize the deal; if for no other reason than to see the beaming smile her wife had been sporting all day turn brighter than the sun.

Her excitement was quickly tempered when they stepped into Kara’s office and were greeted by Cat with a “Good morning, Mrs. Luthor. Good morning, Kiera.” Lena would have done a spit-take had she been drinking anything at the time. For a moment, she tried to convince herself that she had misheard her. That theory was quickly thrown out the window when Cat called Kara “Kiera” three more times before they reached the conference room. By the time they sat at the conference table to go over the final details before signing, Lena was seething.

After taking several deep breaths and getting her blood pressure under control, Lena tried to mentally talk herself down from doing or saying anything rash. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard Cat address Kara by that name, but it was the first time that it got under her skin. Why? Hormones. She was five months pregnant with twin Kryptonian girls.

For the most part, the pregnancy had been uneventful; after the hell that was first trimester, of course. She’d adjusted to the rollercoaster of emotions, eating 15,000 calories a day to keep her and her baby girls nourished, and the near constant fatigue. Most days, she basked in the experience of being an expectant mother; the flutter of kicks throughout the day, impeccable hair and skin, an insatiable libido, and a doting wife that would fly anywhere in the world to satisfy her food cravings. Yep, without a doubt, the second trimester had been treating Lena well.

Except for today.

Today, her lower back was killing her.

Today, her ankles were obscenely swollen.

Today, the twins were using her bladder as a trampoline.

Today, she felt like a swollen, bloated, beached whale.

Today, Lena had a short fuse, and Cat had no idea how close she was coming to lighting it.

As was standard practice for Lena with all business-related deals, she insisted on reading the final contract cover-to-cover before signing. Although she trusted her legal team, she refused to agree to any contracts that she herself hadn’t personally vetted. Her lawyers had been with her long enough to take their boss’ anal retentiveness in stride, fully understanding that it did not reflect on the quality of their work. While Cat herself remained non-plussed by the delay, her attorneys did a poor job of hiding their impatience. Picking up on the tension in the room, Lena’s senior attorney suggested that both legal teams take an early lunch and after receiving nods of approval from both Lena and Cat, the two teams exited the conference room.

Shortly thereafter, Jess received a text that appeared to be of an urgent nature. After receiving an ‘OK’ from Kara to use the Kryptonian’s office, she swiftly exited.

Kara and Cat continued to make small talk while Lena scoured the sales agreement line-by-line; occasionally securing her black, thick-rimmed glasses when they inched down her nose. Reading the contract had managed to curb her murderous thoughts; allowing her to convince herself that she was overreacting to Cat’s flippant disrespect towards Kara. She reminded herself that this was something Kara found perfectly acceptable, and if the time came when her wife did have a problem, she was more than capable of speaking up for herself. Lena took a deep breath and consigned herself to let bygones be bygones and drop the matter altogether.

Until…

“So, Miss Grant, I assume that once you’re elected, you’ll be giving us an exclusive post-election interview?” Kara playfully asked.

“Now, now, Kiera. As the president-elect I am obligated to give equal time to all media outlets. I mustn’t show any favoritism,” Cat said in a patronizing tone as she waved her finger at Kara as if she were chastising a small child.

Fuse officially lit.

“Darling, I am simple starving. I could really go for a Philly cheesesteak sandwich from that place we found in mid-town,” Lena said through a strained smile; trying her best to hide the anger coursing through her veins.

“D’Elia’s?” As Lena had predicted, Kara was predictably excited by the suggestion.

Lena nodded. “Yes, that’s the one.” She locked yes with her wife for the briefest of moments before averting her gaze back to the contract in front of her.

Kara’s face shifted from excitement to suspicion quickly, now focusing intently on her wife. Lena knew the Kryptonian was probably using her enhanced senses to see or if something was up. Lena cursed herself for thinking she was going to be able to hide her agitation, knowing full well that her wife would hear her increased heart rate and her uneven breathing. Lena blushed under Kara’s scrutiny and offered up her best smile.

Kara clearly wasn’t buying it. “Nahn rraop voi?” she asked with concern in her voice.

“Ju nim voi,” Lena reassured her. She leveled Kara with a look that told her to drop it.

Appearing to take the hint, Kara subtly nodded. “Funyuns too?”

Lena stared at her wife incredulously with a raised eyebrow. “Is that a legitimate question?”

Kara held up her hands in mock surrender. “A thousand pardons.” She turned to Cat. “Can I get you anything, Miss Grant?”

Cat rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Please, Kiera. In all the years you were my assistant, did I ever order anything as vile as a cheesesteak sandwich?”

Lena had to suppress the growl bubbling in her throat. She removed her glasses and massaged her temples in the vain hope that she could stave off the headache that could feel coming.

“A salad with a cheeseburger on top of it is somehow different?” Kara leveled Cat with a snarky smile. A deadpan look settled on Cat’s face. Kara shook her head. “They have salads…yogurt dressing and all.”

Cat seemed to perk up at this news. “Well, in that case, I’d love a salad.”

Kara nodded and turned her attention to Lena. She bent down and placed a chaste kiss on her wife’s forehead before super-speeding out of the room; Lena anchoring the papers in front of her to keep them from scattering.

As the breeze from Kara’s speedy departure subsided, Lena let out a long breath. After quickly organizing her thoughts, she straightened her posture and locked eyes on the woman across the table, sizing her up like a lion would a gazelle. Cat shifted uncomfortably in her chair, clearly unnerved by the intense look in Lena’s eyes, yet defiantly maintaining eye contact.

“Penny for your thoughts, Mrs. Luthor?” Cat said pointedly.

Lena folded her hands on the table, leaned forward, and using her well-honed CEO voice said, “I was just thinking about the remarkable difference in CatCo’s current market value compared to what I paid for it in 2017. Remarkable considering you purchased it from Andrea no less than three years ago for $250 million less than I paid for it.”

“The last three years have been very successful,” Cat said, clearly gloating. “And in all honesty, CatCo’s dismal market value three years ago was a direct result of Miss Rojas’ incompetence. The woman had no business being a journalist, she’s better suited to run some kind of multi-level marketing scam.” Cat scrunched up her nose like she’d smelled something foul.

Lena couldn’t argue, she wholeheartedly agreed with Cat’s assessment of Andrea. The woman had no concept of ethical business practices, let alone journalistic integrity. Lena was well aware that Andrea would run CatCo into the ground when she offered to sell it to her. Lena was more concerned with pissing Kara off at the time. A brief surge of guilt overcame her for the briefest of moments. Although she and Kara had long ago forgiven each other for their respective transgressions during their year-long schism, Lena still promised herself she would do something nice for the hero when they got home this evening as an unspoken “I’m sorry”; most likely something that would make her wife’s toes curl.

“Still, it’s amazing what you’ve been able to accomplish in such a short amount of time.” Lena praised.

“Thank you.” Cat seemed pleased with the compliment…and herself.

Lena leaned in closer to Cat. “So, tell me, owner to owner, what’s the secret? How in the hell did you turn a sinking ship worth $500 million into what Kara and I are shelling out $1.4 billion for?”

The question clearly threw Cat for a loop, her eyes flitted around the room as she considered her response. “Well, you can’t be afraid to ruffle a few feathers. People don’t like the truth sometimes, but that’s the responsibility of a free press, exposing people to the ugly truths that surround them.” Cat’s smile regained its cockiness. “Accuracy is more important than expediency; being right is always better than being first.”

“I have firsthand experience in that regard,” Lena sighed bitterly.

A look of recognition passed over Cat and she nodded benevolently. “That’s right. Your mother’s escape.” Cat shook her head and snorted in disgust. “I should have fired both Snapper and Jimmy for their incompetence.” Cat quirked her head questioningly. “I must say I was quite shocked when I heard you and Jimmy were an item at one point given his…negative opinion of you in those early days.”

“I still am shocked at my utter stupidity.” Lena grimaced. “Luckily it wasn’t a permanent affliction.”

Cat said nothing in response to Lena’s lamentation and the two sat in comfortable silence. Cat’s features softened and her lips slid into a warm smile. “That whole mess perfectly illustrates why competent leadership is so important. A good EIC would have put a stop to their recklessness.”

Thankful for the opportunity to shift the focus away from her relationship with James, Lena quickly replied, “I heard Kara tried to stop them.”

Cat’s smile took on a thoughtful appearance, a glimmer of fondness shown in her eyes. “That’s what makes her so remarkable. Even then, with only a few months’ experience under her belt, she still stood up to those jackasses. Her internal compass told her that something wasn’t right, and she refused to let her inexperience stop her from speaking up.” Cat’s look of pride was matched by Lena’s. “That’s what a competent leader does, sticks to their guns even when those in power tell them they’re wrong.”

“So, you think Kara a logical pick for CEO?”

“Absolutely,” Cat responded passionately. “Credit where credit is due, she’s been singlehandedly running the company for over a year now. She’s been performing tasks well beyond her job title and doing a damn fine job in the process.”

“So, would you say Kara has earned your trust and respect?” Lena set her trap.

“Unequivocally,” Cat said with no small amount of adoration, but her features quickly took on an aura of incredulity. “If I didn’t know any better Mrs. Luthor, I’d say you’re having doubts about putting your wife in charge.”

A feeling of pure satisfaction and anticipation surged through Lena as she now had Cat cornered, though she showed no signs of it, her poker face was impenetrable. (There’s a reason poker had been banned from Game Night, Lena could out-bluff everyone)

She almost felt sorry for the older woman.

Almost.

“No, Miss Grant, I have no doubts regarding Kara’s ability to run CatCo. I’m just confused.”

“About what?” Cat asked with an annoyed tone.

“I’m glad you asked.” The smile that spread across Lena’s face could only be described as sinister. “You compliment Kara’s leadership skills. You say that she is the best choice to run CatCo. You say that you trust her. You even go so far as to say you respect her.” Cat nodded, a look of absolute confusion on her face. “And yet, you continue to disrespect her on a daily basis, both privately and publicly.”

Cat sat silently, eyes the size of saucers and her mouth agape.

“What’s my wife’s name, Miss Grant?” Lena asked in an even tone.

Cat stared at Lena as if she was speaking a foreign language. Lena continued. “’Kara’. Say it with me, ‘Kara’.” Lena enunciated phonetically, making no attempt to hide the disdain in her voice. “K-A-R-A. If you’d like, I’d be happy to write it down in crayon for you.”

Cat was clearly flabbergasted, evidenced by her complete lack of response.

Lena took a deep, centering breath; her anger ebbing away ever so slightly. “Miss Grant, I don’t know you that well. When I met Kara, she spoke almost to the point of reverence about you. It became very clear early in our friendship that you were very important to her, so when you came back into her life, I viewed it positively.” Cat seemed to relax at the shift in Lena’s mood, her features loosened as she followed Lena with rapt attention.

Lena continued, her voice tinged with melancholy, “My opinion soured the first time I met you.” Cat looked at her questioningly, Lena rolled her eyes in response. “Our bridal shower,” Lena deadpanned. Cat gave a slight nod. Lena shook her head and continued, “As I was saying, our bridal shower was the first time I heard you call Kara ‘Kiera’. I just assumed I’d misheard you and let it go. When you called her ‘Kiera’ at our bachelorette party, I figured you’d had too much to drink. When you called her ‘Kiera” at our wedding, the only reason I didn’t cast a spell that would make all your hair fall out is because…well…it was our wedding, and I wasn’t going to ruin the day.”

Cat seemed to sink a little further into her seat as Lena listed off each slight, her face stoic.

“My favorite was the night Kara was awarded her second Pulitzer. You did such a beautiful job during her award presentation. Hell, you even introduced her using her proper name,” Lena paused, a look of mock astonishment on her face. “But no more than two seconds after she stepped off the stage, you called her by that goddamn name again!” Lena, face dusted pink, slammed her fist on the conference table, startling Cat.

Her anger rising, Lena gave Cat no time to recover as she leveled her index finger at the clearly unsettled blonde. “Kara is an extraordinary woman. She has saved this planet both as a writer and Supergirl. For fuck’s sake, she saved the universe from being wiped out of existence! Do you have any idea the enormity of something like that? I assure you, you do not.” Lena slowly rose from her seat and leaned over the table, hovering over a floored Cat. “She is a daughter, a sister, an aunt, my wife, the mother of my unborn children, and goddamn superhero for Christ’s sake! You will show her the respect, grace, and compassion that she is owed. You will commit to me right here and now that you will never, EVER, call her ‘Kiera’ again.” Lena picked up the contract and shook it in Cat’s face. “And if you fail to agree to that, I will burn this and piss on the ashes!” Lena mic-dropped the stapled papers.

Cat, wide-eyed and mouth agape once more, stared blankly at the discarded contract. Lena, satisfied with her tirade (for now), gently lowered herself into her seat. She retrieved her glasses and put them on. After grabbing the contract from its resting place on the conference table, she thumbed through the pages until she found where she left off and resumed her reading.

Lena was content to sit in silence while Cat continued to process what had transpired. She felt a great deal of satisfaction being able to defend her wife, even if it meant the deal might fall through. Lena knew that Kara would be devastated if she had to leave CatCo, and as much as Lena wanted to spare her wife from a broken heart, there was no way in hell she was going to let anyone disrespect her. If worse came to worst, they could buy a smaller publication and build from there; Lena feeling confident that any media organization run by Supergirl would garner a sizeable following, not to mention Kara’s skills as a publisher.

“Have you ever met Perry White?” Cat’s passive voice broke through the silence.

Lena set the contract back on the table, removed her glasses, and studied Cat for a moment. As far as Lena could tell, there was no trace of hostility or arrogance in Cat’s appearance. Lena had no idea why Cat was bringing up the former Daily Planet editor. Her curiosity peaked, she decided to follow Cat down whatever rabbit hole she was leading her. “No, I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. Though I’m not too broken up about it seeing as how he was more than happy to label me as the anti-Christ after Lex was sent to prison.”

“The man was a pig,” Cat said, a slight tremble in her lips. “When I first started at the Planet as his assistant, he insisted on calling me ‘Caity’.” Cat paused, apparently waiting for some type of response from Lena; a raised eyebrow was all she received. “This went on for weeks. ‘Caity! Coffee, black! Caity, where’re my cigars? ‘Caity, get off your ass and get me some lunch!’. Until one day, I psyched myself up enough to correct him. He told me that he knew what my name was, but he didn’t care. From that point on, he started calling me ‘Caity-Cat’.”

“Did you report him to HR?” The look on Lena’s face was ice-cold, but the hint of warmth in her voice belied a touch of sympathy.

Cat scoffed, “God no. Filing a complaint against the EIC for one of, if not the largest newspaper in the United States would have been career suicide.” Lena could only shake her head in disgust, Cat nervously fiddled with her fingers and huffed, “It was a barbaric time. The entire industry was run by a bunch of testosterone-laden animals.” Cat chuckled quietly. “It’s unfortunate Perry retired before the Me Too movement, I would have loved to have watched him get skinned alive.”

Lena couldn’t help the snort that escaped her. Cat grinned brightly at her reaction. Lena quickly regained her composure and dramatically cleared her throat. “So how did you deal with it?”

“I used it,” Cat said confidently. “Every time I heard the name ‘Caity-Cat’, I used it as motivation to push for a better career. I made a vow that I would make such a name for myself that that son of a bitch would have no choice but to show me the respect I deserved.” Lena could see a flash of steely determination in Cat’s eyes. “Come hell or high water, I would prove that I was worthy of his notice.” Cat swallowed thickly, her eyes becoming glassy.

Lena picked up on the bitterness in Cat’s voice. She could see how much the memories of her time under Perry White pained her. She couldn’t help the swell of sympathy generated by Cat’s remembrances. Whether she liked it or not, Lena felt a kindred spirit in Cat. Both had navigated a world heavily dominated by misogynistic, deplorable men who did everything in their power to ensure their failure. She understood Cat’s motivation to prove that she belonged in that world, no matter its futility.

“Did you ever accomplish your goal?” Lena asked, already knowing the answer.

“In a way.” Cat thinned her lips, a far off look on her face. “A year after I got CatCo off the ground, I ran into Perry at some awards dinner. By happenstance, serendipity, or whatever the hell you want to call it, we went to get a drink at the bar at the same time. I said hello, and he grunted out ‘Catherine’.” Lena shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, unsurprised by the man’s apparent apathy. Cat grinned playfully, clearly feeling like she swallowed the canary. “But by then it didn’t matter. I’d grown far beyond needing his respect or approval. By that time, I had already accomplished more than that sack of shit ever could. I didn’t want, didn’t need a damn thing from him.”

Lena let Cat relieve her triumphant moment, happy in the knowledge that Cat was able to realize her self-worth without needing validation from anyone else.

“So, is that why you scall my wife ‘Kiera’? In some misguided attempt to motivate her?” Lena’s gaze bore into Cat with an intensity greater than Kara’s heat vision. “Because from where I’m sitting, it seems history repeating itself.”

Cat blanched at Lena’s assertion; a barely perceptible shiver ran the length of her spine. Cat let out a long breath before meeting Lena’s probing stare before answering wistfully. “When she started as my assistant, maybe…but I think it got to the point where I wasn’t even aware I was doing it.” Cat looked away from Lena, clearly angry with herself. She fell back into her chair with an unceremonious thud, her shoulders sagging defeatedly. “But it really doesn’t matter, still makes me a hypocrite.”

Lena answered Cat’s unasked question with a raise of her eyebrow and a slight tilt of her head.

Cat folding her hands on the conference table and leaned closer to Lena. “Please understand, I am so proud of Kara. She has exceeded every expectation I could possibly have of her. She has grown into a remarkable woman; and it has nothing to do with the cape and tights. She engenders trust and respect to a level I have never seen before. I’m used to my staff going above and beyond because they’re scared of me, but her, they do it because they adore her.” Cat’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

Lena’s features softened at Cat’s admission, a warm sense of satisfaction blooming in her chest. She started feeling the slight sting of welling tears in her eyes after hearing such kind words about her wife. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

There might be hope for Cat yet. At the very least, she’d avoid tasting Lena’s fist.

“Have you considered telling her that?” Lena pointedly asked.

Cat grinned sadly through trembling lips. “I feel like that ship’s sailed,” Cat said with a shaky voice. “How…when…I mean…I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Lena didn’t even try to hide her enjoyment watching Cat ramble. “One, it’s never too late, two, use your words, and three, there’s no time like the present.” Lena motioned towards the closed door leading to the bullpen. Cat looked at the door confused. “Kara, I know you’re listening. You can come in now,” Lena said quietly.

Before Cat could react, the door opened and a sheepish looking Kara entered the conference room, two flimsy cardboard boxes filled with wrapped sandwiches and bags cradled in her arms. She set the boxes down and turned to face her wife. “I wasn’t listening.” Lena leveled Kara with an arched eyebrow in response, Kara quickly folded under her wife’s stare. “Well, I didn’t listen to everything.”

“Do tell, zrhemin.” Lena suppressed a grin.

Kara made to adjust glasses that weren’t there, quickly shifting to scratch her cheek. “Fine. I’ve been listening since ‘piss on the ashes’”. But in my defense, I could hear your heartrate was elevated and I got worried.”

Satisfied, Lena shrugged. The color had seemed to drain from Cat’s face after Kara’s confession, her eyebrows hitting her hairline. An awkward silence followed. Cat and Lena appeared to be in a stare down while Kara tried to avoid looking either one in the eye. Lena emerged as the victor of the silent battle; Cat turned to face Kara. Kier…Kara, I owe you an apology…”

“Miss Grant, you don’t have to apologize,” Kara cut her off with a wave of her hand.

“No, Kara, I do.” Cat took a focusing breath and swallowed thickly. “Your wife is right; I haven’t always been very nice to you. I’ve been disrespectful, callous, and sometimes, downright abusive; none of which you’ve deserved.” Kara was beaming as Cat spoke, now the third person in the room being brought to tears. “Sufficed to say, I will work harder to…be more positive with my feedback…and, at the very least, call you by your given name.”

Cat hesitantly approached Kara and after an awkward amount of positioning, embraced her in a tight hug. The floodgates opened and all three women had tears streaking their faces: Cat and Kara for obvious reasons, and Lena…well…goddamn hormones!

Kara and Cat pulled back from their embrace and messily wiped away their tears, a few sniffles coming from both women. “Thank you, Miss Grant. I accept your apology,” Kara said, a slight tremble in her voice.

Cat smiled at her warmly. “Kara, I think at this point you can call me Cat.”

Kara gasped in shock before devolving into clapping and squealing excitedly. “Ok…Cat,” she said with an overdramatic swagger.

Cat and Lena exchanged an eyeroll but didn’t comment on the Kryptonian being a spastic dork.

Cat leveled Kara with her best boss-stare, quickly pulling the hero out of her giddiness. “That is until I win the election. Then you’ll have to address me as Madame President.”

#supercorp #supercorptober2023 #kara danvers #lena luthor #cat grant

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