#nature reclaims her own

[writing-fanics]

underneath the willow tree [everything stays]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[summary: he left you waiting in the garden and slowly nature reclaimed you]

Let’s Go

In The Garden

You’ll find something waiting

Your laughter seemed to echo throughout the garden. You were always so cheerful and full of joy, that was your gift after all bringing joy to others in Heaven and Earth. You sat there in the garden, waiting for Lucifer. He promised that he'd meet you in the garden, as he had something he needed to tell you something very important.

You were naive and innocent and unaware, of his infidelity. How he'd been spending time with Lilith, sleeping with her when he was supposed to be meeting up with you. You were blissfully unaware, of how your very own fiancee is cheating on you.

He was drawn to Lilith, Adam's wife, because of her independence, which made him infatuated with her. Unfortunately, he was unfaithful to you, and you were unaware of his infidelity.

You believed that your relationship was flawless and were looking forward to the upcoming fall wedding. Between you and him, and you wondered what he had to talk to you about.

Maybe new adjustments to the wedding?

As you waited for your fiancée to return, you spent hours standing amidst the serene beauty of nature, listening to the sweet melodies of birds and the soothing sounds of nature. You were filled with a sense of innocence and contentment, as you played with the ring on your finger - a symbol of your love and commitment to your significant other, Lucifer.

You giggled as butterflies landed on your nose and then flew away. You began humming the songs that Lucifer would sing to you. As the sun slowly started to set, you looked up at the sky and whispered, "He's been gone for a while." Despite this, you continued to wait.

and waited

and waited

The passage of time seemed to have flown by as you looked down at the ground. You noticed that roots had wrapped around your legs and your hand had been in the same position for so long that you felt rooted to the spot.

You couldn't help but frown as you wondered if you were doing everything correctly. Had you accidentally missed seeing Lucifer? And where was your fiancée? It was difficult to tell, as it had been a long time since you last saw him.

You found yourself weeping while standing there, wondering where he could be, as the cold breeze sent shivers down your spine. Your legs felt rooted to the ground, making it impossible to move a single step.

As you stood there, you noticed something strange happening to your body. You felt an unseen force pulling you down, and before you knew it, roots had wrapped themselves tightly around your legs and arms, preventing you from moving any further.

You struggled in vain, but the roots only grew tighter and stronger with each passing moment. As time went by, you realized that you were slowly transforming into a tree-like shape, and your tears fell to the ground like rain, watering the soil. The roots that had once trapped you were now a part of your being, intertwined with your limbs and coursing through your veins.

You couldn't help but weep, and as you did, your tears began to take on a life of their own. They sprouted from your body like leaves, delicate and dainty, resembling the graceful branches of a willow tree. You were no longer just a human; you were a part of nature, forever frozen in time, a poignant reminder of what once was.

It wasn't until centuries later when the King of Hell, arrived in Heaven for the centurial meeting he had a few minutes to spare. He'd seen and walked passed the willow tree that rested in the courtyard of the courthouse.

As he sat underneath the huge oak tree in the park, he couldn't help but notice the strange looks he was getting from passersby.

Perhaps it was because he was dressed in a suit and tie, an unusual sight in a public park. But he didn't care, he just wanted to enjoy the peaceful surroundings. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the branches of the tree, and some leaves fluttered down around him.

As he brushed them off his lap, he noticed something small and shiny land on his thigh. When he looked down, he saw that it was a ring, a familiar-looking ring. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he couldn't help but wonder how it ended up in his lap.

As he held the ring in his hand, he couldn't help but notice the delicate engraving on the band. He began to read the words, and with each passing second, his heart sank deeper and deeper.

He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and heartache wash over him as the true meaning of the words became clear. It was as if the words were a painful reminder of a past mistake that he could never undo.

‘To my love, my everything,’

- Love Lucifer

Everything stays

Right where you left it

#lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #x reader #fanfic #angst #romance #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader

[bunni-v1]

Can I please request a reader that has been so traumatised by what’s happened in the Scarabia book that they actively avoid the entire dorm and have Ace and Deuce as their guard dogs (I love those two and I really love how you wrote them as the readers protective besties during the Malleus break up fic). Like how would Kalim, Jamil and Adeuce react to that?

I find it really cathartic when I read fics that have the characters feeling guilty after what they put the reader through whilst the reader is getting support from their friends.

(Something I’m really salty about in twst is how no one ever holds the overblots accountable for what they’ve done. I full on agreed with Ace when he told Riddle that crying wasn’t going to erase all that he did before the overblot and I literally fell in love with him when he punched Riddle after he insulted us/Yuu/the player. I understand that those boys are traumatised and are in desperate need of therapy and overblotting was the only way for their problems to be solved but the treatment they inflicted on Yuu/us was downright hellish. Azul made us homeless and tore us away from the only family/comfort we had in twst (the ghosts) and then sent the tweels to terrorise us in our attempts to reclaim said home and free our friends from servitude; Jamil kidnapped us, hypnotised us, locked us up in a room against our will, isolated us from Adeuce and took away any contact we had with them, forced us on long marches in the dessert and turned a blind eye to our clear suffering during that time; Vil acted like a literal demon to not only us (and then almost made my Deucey cry) but everyone else as well and that was before he decided to try to murder an innocent teenager. Like why does no one understand just how much this can damage an actual child who has no magic and has been stripped from their home and family?)

Reader Terrified of Scarabia After Jamil’s Overblot

TW: PTSD; Mental Breakdown; Disassociation; Mentions of Abuse; Kalim and Jamil are tragic

Info: Ace, Deuce x Reader (platonic or romantic); Kalim, Grim x Reader (platonic); Jamil and Reader (neutral)

🍓I love requests like this tbh. My own OC sorta has her own grapplings with this stuff that I like to touch upon, and I’m excited I get the chance to talk about it here :) THIS IS LONG AS HELL BTW(like this intro here lol). I had a lot of fun writing it :))) I added a cute, shorter little grim part, because our little guy deserves more lovin’ than he gets. I also decided to do a cute little (read: long) intro, and then head cannons since you didn’t specify for either. I hope you enjoy this style, and I’m sorry for the wait <3

You had been through… a lot in your time at Night Raven College. Being thrown into a completely different world would’ve been enough, but it seems that the great seven thought you needed some extra troubles. You weren’t sure how you could’ve encored their wrath, but you were, and you were chugging along despite it all.

First was the attack from the phantom in the mines — something that should’ve been foreshadowing for what was to come. You didn’t even do anything to be in this position. It was Ace Grim and Deuce, but you got dragged into it all because you were “Grim’s keeper.” You managed to befriend Ace and Deuce though, so it wasn’t so bad.

Second was Riddle with his unending temper and strict rules. Despite everything telling you to just stay out of it, your good-natured heart just couldn’t stop you from helping Ace and Deuce. Nearly dying in the process, you managed to help Riddle and made newfound friends in Heartslabyul. 

Third came Leona, the selfish, stuck-up, lazy no-good prince of the Savannah. You knew he was trouble from the start, and you wanted nothing to do with him or his little lackey Ruggie. Then he hurt Trey, and you couldn’t stand by while he reigned terror on the school. He was a favorable ally to gain in the end, so you could dismiss his actions so long as he kept in his lane.

Fourth was Azul, another student you figured would cause you trouble. With the extra scary Jade and Floyd always tailing him, and that too buttery sweet voice of his, you were determined to keep your distance. Again, however, your friends were in trouble and you couldn’t help but help them. Azul was a broken person, and you could sympathize with his struggles. He even gave you a job at the lounge to help with funding yourself, so he couldn’t be all that bad.

You’d come to dislike the other house wardens out of principle. A pattern had emerged among them, and you weren’t going to fall victim to another horrific overblot. You still had suction cup-shaped bruises on your arm from Azul’s breakdown. Leona had given you more than just a nasty burn from the scalding hot whirlwind of sand he conjured up. The scars Riddle left behind on your face and arms were healed, but they still ached when you touched them. All painful reminders that you could not truly trust anyone here, that anyone could lose control of themselves and hurt you. Yet…

When you met Jamil in the kitchen, he seemed so kind to both you and Grim. He seemed so genuine and honest. Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe it was you missing your friends, but you wanted to trust him despite your gut feeling to be distrustful. Could everyone here really be that bad? Certainly not. Ace Deuce and Jack went here as well… so surely… surely…

The alarm bells didn’t ring at all during the dinner, and Kalim — despite everything you’ve been through — seemed so nice, if not a little overbearing. You could see the tiredness on Jamil's face, and you had the kindness in your heart to express your sympathies. And oh, Jamil so humbly assured you that he was fine. Filling your head with little half-truths and ideas that Kalim had been overworking not only him but the other students. That he had been acting “off” as of late.

You saw Kalim’s sudden shifts in personality. How he would be so sweet, so kind and soft. How he made sure you were enjoying yourself, made sure you ate to your heart's content, made sure you were comfortable in your uniform and your sleeping quarters. Then he would be yelling at everyone, demanding unspeakable exercises and work.

If Ace were there with you, he would’ve called bullshit. Still, you trusted Jamil to start. You actually believed he was kind and had good intentions. You believed that Kalim was the real evil here.

Then he wouldn’t let you and Grim leave, and the students were suddenly so aggressive toward you. He took everything you had and stripped you of your dignity and pride until there was nothing left but fight.

Truly, you didn’t realize it was him that was the issue until he was over-blotting in front of your eyes. It wasn’t an unusual sight to you at that point, you’d defeated multiple overblots and befriended these people. You don’t know what it was. The way you’d trusted him. The fact that you felt truly alone without Ace and Deuce. This one broke you…

You just didn’t feel a damn thing after he was saved. You felt no pity, no joy, no relief. Absolutely nothing, an empty void in your chest. Even as everyone around you celebrated, there was nothing. You stood watching everyone parade around with glee blankly, unable to speak to anyone around you. Just listening to the voices that had begun to mesh together.

You didn’t show anything until Ace and Deuce showed up. Something about their faces, the way they were looking over you, the way they seemed so scared for your wellbeing… it made you cry. It made you cry and cry and cry until you couldn’t make any noise and then you cried some more. They had to drag you away from everyone because you just couldn’t quite stand upright when Deuce would try to get you to walk away with him…

The days after were blurry. You remained holed up in your dorm, unable to really move from your bed. Ace and Deuce stayed in their own separate room next to yours. You could hear them talking through the walls about how worried they were about you, how angry they were at Jamil, how angry they were at themselves for not getting there in time to help you. If you’d had the energy, you would’ve scolded them for being so hard on themselves, but you could hardly speak in the first place.

They cared for you as best as they could. Deuce attempted to cook the recipes Trey sent him over magicam, making sure you ate and stayed hydrated. Occasionally you’d hear Azul downstairs, and Deuce would give you something nice from the Monstrolounge — free of charge, he promised. You could tell that he wasn’t sleeping much in his worry over you. 

Grim remained at your side as loyal as a dog and boasting that he’d keep you safe, but you knew he was scared too. He proclaimed that he would keep you safe, but you could feel him trembling at every sudden noise. You had to comfort him from the horrific nightmares he was having. That was okay, though, he was family and you were his.

Ace was the only one who really kicked your ass into gear. He’d tug you out of bed and into the shower as people began to return from winter break. Made you go on walks around campus to show you that you were completely safe. Eventually, he’d been able to get you to visit Azul to thank him directly for his kindness. He wasn’t soft or gentle with you, that wasn’t in his character at all, but he made sure you felt safe enough to return to classes before they started.

They both worked hard to help you recover, but you were still so afraid…

Ace

-Ace isn’t exactly the most comforting person, and he never claimed to be. 

-He’s not good at reassuring people, but he’s good at being honest, and if he was being honest he knew that you were safe around him and Deuce.

-He walks you to and from classes, spends most of his nights in your dorm doing whatever the hell you’d like him to do without complaint, distracts you when you’re freaking out, and most importantly keeps that snake as far away from you as possible.

-If he was being honest with himself, which was his whole thing, he didn’t really get your reaction to everything. 

-You’ve all been through this before, it's textbook at this point. A guy does some shady shit, a guy gets caught doing said shady shit, a guy overblots, and you defeat a guy with the power of friendship. Boom. Done.

-He’d get it more if you were completely alone, but grim and the octanivelle freaks were there! Kalim too, and he’s always seemed pretty nice. Not the best company, sure, but still you had people helping you out.

-When he looks at your face and sees how tired you are, he forgets the logical stuff. All he can hear are those horrific sobs you let out when you saw him and how you nearly ripped his uniform in half with how tightly you were holding him and Deuce.

-If that was too much for him, he can’t imagine how badly it must’ve felt for you. How bad it must still feel.

-So screw what he thinks, he’s gotta make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

-He doesn’t ask you how you’re feeling, he knows it's not good. He focuses on keeping your mind off of everything that might trigger you.

-Reroutes your paths to classes to avoid Jamil and Kalim completely. Sure it’s longer and more annoying, but it's better than you going dead silent and shutting him and everyone else out again.

-He does everything in his power and you’re doing so well… and then the VDC happens. 

-You’re given the title of manager and you’re forced to be around these people who terrify you. 

-Vil won’t budge on anything and sevens Ace wishes Rook would let him try out a little target practice with the (illegal) bow and arrows he’s got in his room.

-He keeps himself between you and Jamil at all costs. He won’t let Jamil bother you at all, not that he was trying in the first place.

-The real issue is Kalim, which sounds crazy, but it’s true.

-Kalim is so… forceful. A pretty strong word, but honestly the only one Ace can think to use.

-He’s really nice, really sweet, seriously such a good guy… but you’re still unsettled by him.

-There are several times during practices that Ace has to yell at him to just leave you alone.

-Sure, it gets him a pretty big scolding from Vil, but he couldn’t care less honestly. He doesn’t wanna risk you having a panic attack because Vil doesn’t wanna be a responsible leader.

-You confide in Ace a lot. How you really want to move past all this, but Crowley won’t provide you with any form of therapy, and you’re just not ready to forgive Jamil or Kalim for what happened.

-He won’t tell you this, but hearing you talk like this breaks his heart.

-You’re normally so strong, so brave, so confident… and now you’re absolutely broken.

-He’s proud of you for putting on a brave face to placate Vil, but he’s angry you have to.

-Surprisingly, though, you do begin to warm up to Kalim. Just a little. 

-It's only when Ace, Deuce, or Grim is around, but it's a really big step forward in his eyes.

-You’re getting back to where you used to be little by little.

-He still won’t give you or Jamil the chance to reconcile, but you honestly couldn’t be more grateful for that.

Deuce

-Deuce is incredibly different from Ace in how he handles everything.

-He’s a delinquent, sure, but he’s a Mama’s boy at heart. Therefore, he’s much more equipped to help you emotionally through all this than Ace.

-Where Ace is the harsh pushing force to keep you going, Deuce is the calm where you can rest and cry your heart out for as long as you need.

-As I mentioned, he makes sure you’re eating and drinking and at least speaking to someone.

-He asks Trey for recipes without leading on to what’s going on and asks Cater for advice on helping someone feel safe after a traumatic experience.

-It’s not subtle, but it helps.

-He handles making all your meals, even though he isn’t the best cook, he absolutely puts all his heart and soul into everything he makes.

-A good portion of his days are dedicated to cooking for you, and he gets pretty damn good at it by the time classes start up again!

-With Sam’s shop closed, he has to go into town to get the ingredients he needs, and then he has to spend hours preparing and serving the food.

-He watches you eat, encouraging you that everything is safe and that he made it all by himself by hand. 

-He doesn’t question why things ended up this way for you, he wonders how can I help?

-And he does help, a lot, more than just with food.

-Sometimes, late at night, he hears you crying alone in your room. He gets up from his own bed, quietly enters your room, and holds you and grim while you both tremble in fear.

-It makes him so mad. Mad that this happened to you. Mad that Jamil did this in the first place. Mad that he couldn’t help more than he already is. 

-Like Ace, he accompanies you to all your classes and makes sure to stay close to your side if any Scarabia students are around.

-He’ll go anywhere you need him to, and if you’re not comfortable being alone and he’s got plans, you’re invited to join him. No matter what anyone else thinks.

-Things get better little by little. You make strides in your ability to be independent again and you’re smiling and joking around like you used to. You even agreed to try out for the VDC with him and Ace… a big mistake.

-He didn’t expect to actually get in, let alone get in with Jamil and Kalim. If it were just that he could’ve been civil, but no, you had to be dragged in too… because that’s always how it works out.

-He has to hold himself from getting in Jamil’s face more than once because just him looking at you is enough to send you into a clear panic attack.

-Deuce does his best to comfort you between all of this, though. Being your shoulder to cry on and trying his best to be your protector… it's just hard. Hard to see you like that, and hard to keep his cool for your sake.

-It's worse with Kalim because both you and Deuce know he means well. You both know he wants to reconcile, but you’re not quite ready.

-Deuce helps the confrontation with the two feel a bit easier though. He acts as a mediator between you and Kalim, and eventually, he’s proud to say he helped you trust Kalim just a little bit.

-Jamil… both of you could use some work, but Deuce is more willing to hear you out on him than Ace is.

Grim

-Grim was there with you the whole time. He understands the fear you’re feeling deeper than anyone else.

-He could just tell something was wrong the second he saw your face. Despite all the celebrations, he was focused on making sure you were at least a little okay.

-He tried to talk to you, tried to make you feel okay, but the only comfort he could offer you was letting you hold him while you cried.

-He could still hear your cries, and they made him want to cry too. He almost did, but he was your guard cat — he had to be strong for you.

-Unlike Ace and Deuce, he never left your side. Not a second. He was there with you from the moment you were unwittingly kidnapped to the sleepless nights in your dorm to the horror of finding out you’d have to work closely with Jamil for the VDC.

-He made his distaste for him very known, sure to make a snarky comment at least once every time he saw him. 

-It was so bad, at one point, that Vil had to give him a stern talking to. He didn’t stop regardless.

-You are Grim’s best friend, the only family he has, and Jamil hurt you in unspeakable ways. He couldn’t just sit back and be okay with that.

-He’s really such a good guy.

Kalim

-Kalim means well. With his whole heart, he has the best intentions… just not the best execution.

-See, he didn’t notice initially that anything was really wrong the whole time.

-He didn’t suspect Jamil at all. In fact, he thought that you were really enjoying your stay in Scarabia, you seemed so happy and chatty up until Jamil flipped things on their head.

-Call him air-headed, but he was caught up in his own whirlwind of emotions at the time. You know, the whole betrayal of his supposed best friend took a toll on him too.

-It wasn’t until you were sobbing your throat raw that he realized something was really wrong.

-The look of sheer terror on your face when you made eye contact with him sent shivers up his spine.

-He knew that look. He’d worn that look on his own face too many times as a young child.

-Believe it or not, without Jamil’s intervention, he knew to keep his distance. He knew he had to give you time to adjust.

-Then a few days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a little over a month, and he had hardly seen you around campus.

-You are avoiding your normal route to class, and when he did see you he was also greeted by the harsh glares of your good friends.

-He understood if you’d never want to talk to him ever again, honestly. He couldn’t blame you. You were more headstrong than him, after all.

-Still, when the VDC came around… he was hopeful. Truly he was hoping that something would give.

-He would talk to you in hopes of showing you that he meant no harm, but Ace or Deuce or even Grim would shove their way between the two of you.

-Several times Jamil had to tell him to knock it off because “It’s not worth forcing.”

-Still, he wanted you to know he felt bad. He felt horrible.

-In a very un-Kalim-like move, he quietly asks you if you can speak with him. Alone. But in a crowded enough area that you wouldn’t feel threatened.

-He didn’t expect you to accept it, he wouldn’t have blamed you at all. But you said yes. 

-You showed up, with Grim by your side, which was fine. He earned some apologies too.

-He poured his heart out to you, apologizing for things that he couldn’t even control. In turn, he listened to you rant about how scared you were, how angry you were, how you wished you were any of these things.

-And after that, things improved. Slowly, but surely. You became more comfortable around him, and you spoke to him again.

-Sure, you wouldn’t be caught dead at one of Scarabia’s parties, but you considered him a friend. 

-That’s all he could ask for.

Jamil

-Jamil is the monster in your story. 

-He’s the evil guy who kidnapped, manipulated and lied to you.

-He’s the one who used his misplaced anger as an excuse to hurt others.

-He’s the boogyman who made you endure days of long and hard training, just because he could.

-Of course, he felt bad. What he did was unspeakable, but he was more concerned with how his reputation would last after the overblot.

-More concerned with it not getting out for the safety of his family.

-Even with you sobbing, he just thought you were being dramatic in all honesty. You have a reputation already, he knew you’d been through this whole thing before.

-It didn’t really strike him how badly it affected you.

-He didn’t notice how you switched paths, how you were never in the same area as him for long, and the glares of your friends never once phased him.

-Even Ace’s snarky comments during basketball didn’t bother him for a second.

It wasn’t until he accidentally bumped into you in the hallway, and he saw the look on your face that he realized.

-The terror in your eyes, the way you shrunk back as if he would strike you. It was the same way his parents acted around the Asim’s.

-If he were a more insane man, he might’ve found it liberating, but it wasn’t.

-He had become what he hated to you, he had done what he hated to you. 

-Jamil was not only your monster, but he was his own.

-He steers clear of you and keeps as much distance as possible for both your sakes.

-He couldn’t handle someone looking at him like that, and he was sure you couldn’t handle the sight of him after what he did.

-Still, this is NRC, and luck is never on anyone's side here.

-Both of you are forced into a position where you cannot escape the other, you have to learn to live with the awful pits in your stomachs.

-He keeps Kalim away until you both are on good terms, then he simply watches quietly.

-He won’t apologize, he won’t antagonize, he won’t speak unless spoken to.

-You two never truly recover your small lasting friendship, but you do make amends with each other.

-During the trip to the scalding sands, you get to meet Najma, whom he’s confided in about ‘accidentally upsetting a classmate’.

-You get to have a good talk with her, and it makes you really realize some things about Jamil.

-You realize he’s just as broken as you, just as tired as you, and that he feels the most immense amount of guilt for hurting you.

-You, being you, find it in your soul to forgive him.

-Nothing really changes between you. The guilt is still there, and the fear still shakes you to your core, but you both have closure.

-In a situation like this, closure is the best grace a person can ever have.

#twst #twisted wonderland #bunni's treats 🧁 #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #jamil viper #kalim al asim #ace trappola #deuce spade #grim twst #deuce spade x reader #ace trapolla x reader #jamil viper x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim x reader

[skippudippu]

this is really inspired by a post someone else made but I can’t find it rn 😭😭 but hear me out okay

yes lisa frankenstein is a campy silly funny slasher romcom, and I ADORE it for that. but I’ve been thinking abt how it comments on the way society treats people with trauma, especially women, especially in past decades. the three major women each demonstrate different effects of that.

Lisa is the most obvious — we know what happened to her mom, and we see how everyone feels about her. hell, she tells us. nobody cares about her healing, they just want her to move on. (this also ties into themes of the original Frankenstein story; he wasn’t a monster, but everyone treated him like he was, so he became one.) instead of helping her, everyone others Lisa because she does not hide her pain, nor the effects that pain has had on her. so she becomes the dangerous freak everyone made her out to be.

then we have Janet — Janet, whose father died in the Vietnam war, who appears to have ignored her trauma exactly the way society wanted her to. she buried her pain in order to fit into traditional feminine roles: she’s a mother, she keeps up her home, she’s thin and made-up and absolutely drenched in feminine colors and silhouettes. but the unchecked trauma ate her up inside, and it made her into an antagonist. she became the very sort of person that contributed to her own suffering. she’s perpetuating a vile cycle.

and finally, there’s Taffy, who naturally checks every box on the ‘traditional femininity’ checklist. social and bright and pretty. a cheerleader, a party girl, toeing the line between fitting in and being memorable. she’s never experienced the kinds of struggle that Janet or Lisa did — until the end of the movie. that shot of the man in the car looking at her, beaten and bloody and scared out of her mind. and he drives away without a word. the minute she has a big, ugly problem? she’s dismissed. she’s othered, the same way that Lisa was.

but in Taffy’s final scene, she’s visiting Lisa’s grave. she wears the rosary, a symbol of her otherness. her dress is a feminine cut, and it’s black w pink flowers. she has just been a victim of events scarily similar to Lisa: her mother was killed by a frankenstein, she witnessed death, she was subsequently dismissed for her trauma. but I have to hope that this symbolizes the difference between Taffy and Lisa/Janet; that she’ll break the cycle; that she’ll be able to address her suffering while reclaiming her femininity.

#lisa frankenstein #lisa swallows #taffy swallows #kathryn newton #diablo cody #idk if this makes any sense I just have brainworms abt this movie and I need them Out on the internet

[webslinger-holland]

I saw that your requests were open and I cant get the idea out of my head about a reader that worked at the crow club and Kaz just cant get them off his mind.

Then after failing to capture Alina and coming home, the crow club was under new Management and Pekka Rollins had taken interest in the reader, keeping them by his side. How would he react and/or get the reader back with the crows?

Heal His Heart | Kaz Brekker

Warning: slight violence, mentions of provocative attire, mentions of being a captive

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Ever since the Crow Club fell under the new management of Pekka Rollins, Kaz Brekker had been working nonstop to come up with a plan in order to reclaim his rightful throne. He made his way downstairs to meet up with the others.

Now Wylan had been tasked with creating a substance that had similar symptoms of firepox, but it would only last a day or two at most. He placed one of the two boxes on a small table with Jesper carrying the other. Jesper had been in charge of finding the boxes of their old costumes in which he had forgotten to clean them since last year.

Finally, Kaz had come to approach the table. He went to open one of the boxes, finding it filled with spray glass bottles of a mysterious liquid. He directed his gaze to the young boy standing in front of him.

"It'll mimic it in every way?" Kaz needed certainty.

"Mhmm," Wylan nodded.

With that, Kaz closed the lid to the box. He nodded his head in acceptance. There was a moment of silence amongst the small group. The boss turned his head to look directly at his right hand man beside him.

"You're gonna say you can't do this without me, yeah? And that you hate it when we're angry at each other, but sometimes, brothers fight. And that when all this is over, you'll open a tab for me at the club of my choosing," Jesper was rambling.

Kaz's face remained unchanged by Jesper's words. He looked at him sternly.

"Cause when Pekka's gone, you'll take it all. That's what your were gonna say," Jesper finished. He sent a cheeky smile to the others.

"There's a cap on the tab," Kaz insisted. "But otherwise, yes. To all of that."

"Then let's go take down the king," Jesper replied.

"The plan is this: Jesper and Wylan, you're gonna hand out Komedie Brute costumes and vials of the compound to all of the Dregs," Kaz began.

"Per Haskell's gang," Jesper claimed.

"Our gang now," Kaz interjected. "By sunset, the streets will be crawling with Sankt Emerens revelers. They'll provide us with the cover we need."

Sure enough, Wylan and Jesper had succeeded later in the evening when passing out costumes and the vials to the other members. They themselves wore their own costumes for disguise.

"Hit all of Pekka's businesses: The clubs, the brothels. All to destroy Pekka's reputation," Kaz ordered. He further explained Inej's part in delivery the message to Pekka's driver.

In that moment, Nina had come to join the small group by standing beside them. She had a pint in her own hands.

"Nina and I will handle the Emerald Palace," Kaz glanced at Nina beside him. His eyes drifted over the others. "See you there," Kaz dismissed them.

Naturally, Jesper and Inej had shared a look between one another. He had forgotten a vital piece of information to the plan, but he must have had his reasons. He didn't say anything about her.

"No mourners," Jesper began.

"No funerals," the rest of them said simultaneously.

As Jesper and Inej began walking away, Wylan caught up to them to ask why they always said 'no mourners, no funerals.' Inej gave a simple explanation of wanting to keep their expectations low.

Back at the table, Kaz and Nina stood in an awkward silence. She was quick to finish her pint of beer, lowering onto the surface of the table. Kaz kept his gaze on the box in front of him.

"You've been quiet," Kaz noted. He turned his body to address her. "Ready?"

With that, Nina landed a swift punch to the left side of Kaz's face. She had honestly been wanting to do that for some time.

The Emerald Palace was located in Ketterdam's East Stave, being owned and operated by the notorious gang called the Dime Lions. The gambling hall was always bustling with pigeons, bringing in heaps and heaps of money for Pekka Rollins himself.

When Pekka had taken over the Crow Club, he oversaw the distribution of its employees. He had them all line up and he made his decision where he wanted them to work for him.

He liked the big bouncers, opting to send them to the Emerald Palace where he often spent his nights. They'd serve as good additional protection. Many of the waitresses were sent away to work in his various brothels. Others were forced to go to the clubs. Then, there was her.

She was the one who had caught his eye. She stood timidly under his gaze, refusing to make eye contact with him unlike the others. He grabbed her chin to forcefully make her look at him. This caused her to let out a small gasp of surprise.

"Now..." Pekka's deep voice growled as he finally got a chance to look over her striking features. "What's a pretty lass like you working for scum like Kaz Brekker?" Pekka wondered.

"H-He pays me well," Y/n stuttered. She tried to pull herself out of his grasp, but he quickly grabbing onto her arm to hold her in place. "I-I'm just a waitress," Y/n claimed.

"Mhmm, just a waitress." Pekka almost didn't believe her. "Nothing more?"

"N-No," she lied under her breath.

Much like Inej, Kaz had chosen to pay off her indenture at the Menagerie. In turn, Y/n worked for him as a waitress at the Crow Club. She worked the tables, listening in on other people's conversations to hear the latest news circulating around the barrel. It was just another way to hear intel.

She was a resource to him. She was often the reason why he heard about specific jobs or who was no longer a reliable investment. However, that wasn't the only reason why Kaz Brekker liked keeping her around. As she was also a healer.

They shared many late nights together. He'd sit in front of her as she healed some painful wounds inflicted onto his body. Her being a healer was another valuable resource to have at his disposal.

At first, Kaz was wary when Y/n offered to heal a nasty wound inflicted to the side of his head. It caused a dull throbbing pain directly into the side of his head. To ease the almost unbearable pain, Kaz agreed to be healed by her.

He tried to prepare himself. He closed his eyes in order to try not to think about the feeling of ones skin against his own. His past coming to haunt him once again.

But when her fingers came in contact with the side of his face, Kaz didn't flinch away in pain or in disgust. In fact, Kaz felt rather comforted and maybe it was because she was healing a rather painful wound. He almost wanted to lean into her touch as it felt so warm and so gentle.

He kept his eyes closed to relish the feeling, taking a moment to appreciate not feeling the urge to vomit at physical contact. When Y/n had finished healing him, she took a single step backwards and lowered her gaze to the floor.

"I'm sorry," Y/n said softly as she already knew that he despised contact.

Instead of scolding her or demanding that she leave his office at once, Kaz approached her with an evident limp in his step. He stood right in front of her with his hands clasped onto the top of the crow head cane.

"Thank you," was all that he said.

They didn't label themselves with anything. There was some undiscussed attraction to each other that they both knew about. Due to his reputation and for her safety, they chose not to discuss such matters ever. This left them in a short of grey area.

"No," Pekka repeated. She was drawn back to reality, facing the heartless man in front of her. "Well, I can tell that Brekker didn't see your worth. How'd you like to come work for me? I pay handsomely," Pekka bargained.

Just by looking at him, Y/n knew that if she said 'no,' he was bound to put a bullet in the side of her head. Therefore, she was left with no choice but to join his side. She went to work for him at the Emerald Palace, serving as his personal attendant.

On that particular evening, Y/n was dressed in the finest lace and silk that the barrel had to offer. Her corset made it extremely difficult to breathe in, much less move around in. She brought another drink to Pekka as per request.

"Thank you, my love." Pekka said while laying a hand on the small part of her back. She wanted to wiggle out of his grasp, but stayed where she was as to not upset him further.

One of the bouncers came into view, stating that someone was there to see the boss. With some hesitation, Pekka Rollins rose to his feet and placed his glass of alcohol down. He dismissed himself from the group.

In the main entrance, Kaz Brekker was laying on the soft red floor. It looked like he had been in a fight as his hair was in disarray and there was sweat on his brow. Behind him, Nina Zenik stood with her hands held in a certain position. She could feel his beating heart.

"No match for a heartrender, are you, Brekker?" Pekka looked most pleased. "A real boss knows how to inspire loyalty in his people. Isn't that right boys?" Pekka glanced to his men.

"That's right," the other members of the gang agreed with him.

"Good job, lass. I've got it from here," Pekka gestured to Nina. His men were quick to pull their guns on her, which brought a tone of surprise.

"Move those hands and you lose them," one of them said. They knew what kind of power she could manipulate. They needed to keep her accountable. She raised her hands in defeat.

"I'm gonna make you regret the day that you crossed me," Pekka said to Brekker. He began to take off his jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up shirt.

In the background, Y/n had pushed her way through the crowd of men. Her gaze landed on the familiar figure laying on the floor. She raised her hands to her mouth in hopes of covering the gasp she left out. He lifted his head and looked directly at her.

"Get him on his feet," Pekka demanded.

"Wait!" Y/n exclaimed from the side. She took a single step forward.

Just as Kaz was hauled to his feet by two men, Y/n had also been held back by another two members. She thrashed against their tight grip on her arms, desperately seeking to be released. She couldn't stand to watch this play out.

"You told me..." Pekka redirected his attention to his personal attendant. He strode towards her slowly. "That you were just a waitress for him," Pekka said.

He knew the weight of his words. He had always wondered if there was something unspoken happened between the two. This could easily be used against Brekker.

"Nothing more," Pekka glanced back to Kaz. "That's what you said, isn't that right?"

She couldn't deny it, so she chose to say nothing instead. She hung her head low, not wanting to even look at Kaz in fear of seeing the hurt in his eyes.

And her words (though not spoken in that moment) did hurt him. They both knew that she was much more than just a waitress for him. She was more than just another one of his investments. She had done more for him than just healing his wounds. Because she had also managed to somehow heal his heart which ached from the pain of his past.

"He'll never be able to offer you anything. Nothing worthwhile at least," Pekka continued. He went to approach the young teenage boy. "He is nothing more than a lowlife who feeds off the dirt from the ground," Pekka spat in his face.

"You're wrong," Y/n said with a slight quiver in her voice. Pekka turned to her once more. "He is more of a man than you will ever be, you witless worm."

A few people left out a gasp of surprise upon hearing this. Now Pekka's blood was really boiling to the point where his face had turned beat red. It could have been from utter embarrassment or it could have been from pure anger.

Without another word, Pekka Rollins went to approach the girl he had taken under his wing. He stopped to stand right in front of her. In a flash, the back of his hand had met the side of her cheek. Her head whipped to the side from the slap and she winced from the stinging pain she felt in her cheek.

In that exact moment, Kaz wanted nothing more than to bash Pekka's head in for what he had done. But he could only watch as Pekka gripped her face with a single hand. He squeezed hard and forced her to look directly at him.

"You do well to remember who you belong to," Pekka growled.

"Go to hell."

In response, Pekka released his tight grip on her face. She could now feel the distinct taste of copper lingering in her mouth. She also did not know that there was a small cut on her cheek from where his ring had come in contact with her.

"I'll deal with you later," Pekka pointed to her threateningly. He turned back to his old rival. "Right now, I need to make an example out of this rat."

"You'll pay for this, you double-dealing witch!" Kaz finally spoke to Nina with venom in his voice.

Without warning, Pekka delivered a swift punch to Kaz's stomach. He doubled over from the searing pain, kneeling on the ground. He couched in attempts to catch his breath.

Reaching down, Pekka grabbed a fist full of Kaz's disheveled hair. He forced him to look upwards in which he could now see the line of blood trailing over his mouth.

"After I beat you, I'm gonna hand your body on a post as a reminder to anyone who forgets that I'm king of this city." Pekka claimed.

"Do your worst," Kaz challenged.

Another punch was brought down onto Kaz's face which sent him to the ground once more. He swiftly kicked his stomach many times over. Each time being more painful than the last. Kaz kept his eyes squeezed shut as if to try to manage the pain.

On the side, Y/n wanted to rush over and kneel beside him. She'd gingerly lay her fingers over his aches and pains in attempts of bringing him some sense of comfort. She needed to heal him. And she didn't know how much more he could take.

With one final blow to the side of the head, Kaz fell unconscious to the ground. His blood trailed down the length of his face, staining his skin. He blinked a couple times as he was brought back to a painful reality. He could hear the sirens now.

One of Pekka's men had come to inform him about the sirens, which initiated a quiet conversation between the two of them. He announced the return of the firepox. But all the places that had been reported to have been hit where nowhere near each other.

"There will be outbreaks at all of your establishments," Kaz said as he found the strength to stand to his feet. "And only yours," Kaz breathed heavily.

For a moment, Y/n was very confused. She furrowed her eyebrows as if trying to make sense of what he was claiming. She wondered. What are you up to, Kaz Brekker?

"The path of contagion will be clear. A ship in your harbor spread the disease to your clubs," Kaz explained.

"What did you do, boy?" Pekka wondered.

From earlier, Nina could remember the conversation she had with Kaz. How Kaz was going to pay to keep Matthias out of the fights in Hellgate. But Nina needed to do something for him first and she needed to make it look real.

"There is nothing an island nation fears more than disease," Kaz told Pekka. "The Merchant Council's going to want a proper investigation."

Meanwhile, Pekka was loading one of his handguns. He slipped another bullet into the barrel. He cocked it in his hand.

"You've got my attention," Pekka confessed. "But you're not worth the time it'll take to put a bullet in your head."

"Fifth harbor is shut down. Your businesses are tainted," Kaz continued.

Unbeknownst the the others, Jesper had slipped through the doors wearing a glorious red and golden cape. He managed to slip through the heavy crowds with the intent of listening in on the conversation.

"My businesses will be fine," Pekka raised his gun to Kaz's head. "But you?" Pekka began.

"I'd reconsider," Kaz interjected. "If you want to see your Kaelish prince again."

"What are you gonna do? You gonna blow it up again?" Pekka wanted to chuckle. "You need to learn some new tricks."

"Your other Kaelish prince," Kaz emphasized. "Fond of sweets. Blond hair."

Now Pekka had shifted from one foot to the other. He tried not to show any signs of weakness, suddenly realizing who he was talking about.

"Alby," Kaz seethed.

"I'll kill everything you love, Brekker." Pekka promised. He half expected him to look over at her in the corner. But Kaz kept his gaze locked on Pekka.

"The trick is not to love anything," Kaz claimed. Naturally, Y/n could only feel her heart plummet into the deep confines of her chest. She sniffled her tears away. Maybe she was just another waitress to him. "Your mistake was that you let someone get in. Someone you'd sacrifice everything for and it makes you weak," Kaz spat.

"Then I'll just kill you," Pekka tried.

"Do that," Kaz encouraged. "And you'll never find your son in time."

"What did you do?" Pekka looked horrified.

"I buried him. Six feet deep," Kaz spoke heavily.

"He went into that box so easily. Didn't even cry," Kaz pulled a small wooden train out of his pocket. "Until I took this from him."

"Where's my son?" Pekka demanded.

"Make smart choices. And you might just reach him before the air runs out," Kaz explained.

"You trifling piece of barrel trash," Pekka growled. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want you to remember," Kaz stated firmly. The images of his dead brother flashed through his mind.

"Remember what?" Pekka wondered.

"A con you ran on two farm boys. Orphans," Kaz explained. "A promise to replace the family that they'd lost. And then you duped them out of everything. They ended up on the streets and they both died. But one of us was reborn," Kaz finished.

Despite the description, Pekka Rollins tried racking through his mind. He recalled every single job that he tried to pull off, specifically singling in on the ones that had gone wrong. But his mind came up blank.

"Too many pigeons to remember? Let me help you. Jakob Hertzoon," Kaz spoke.

"That was a long time ago," Pekka said slowly. He hear nothing in response. "So that's what this is all about? Why you look at me with murder in those shark's eyes of yours?" He scoffed.

In the background, Jesper began to make his way to the backside of the men who were holding Y/n captive. He remembered the plan that Kaz had laid out. He brought his hands to the handles of his pearly pistols, preparing himself for the worst.

"You were just two pigeons who I just happened to have plucked. And if it hadn't been me, it would've been somebody else." Pekka insisted.

"Bad luck for Alby that it was you," Kaz spoke loudly.

Upon hearing this, Pekka seized for Kaz's collar. He slammed his body against a nearby pillar, keeping one hand firmly on his chest. He pressed the barrel of his gun into the side of his neck as if to threaten him. But Kaz only smirked at him.

"You...you tell me where to find me son!" Pekka demanded.

"It's a simple trade, Rollins. Speak my brother's name and your son lives," Kaz explained.

In utter defeat, Pekka stumbled backwards in his place. He locked his jaw in place, feeling his teeth gritting together painfully. He clenched his fists at his sides. He was seething with anger and frustration.

"How about another hint?" Kaz pushed himself off the wall. "You called your daughter Saskia. She wore red ribbons in her hair," Kaz described.

At that moment, Pekka began to mutter under his breath. He was desperately trying to remember the name off the top of his head. He raised his hand to point at him.

"Okay. T-two boys from Liji," Pekka recalled. But this wasn't exactly what he wanted.

"Yeah," Kaz confirmed.

"You had a piddling little fortune. Your brother fancied himself as a trader. Wanted to get rich quick like every other nub who steps foot in the barrel," Pekka said.

"I want you to say his name," Kaz growled.

The room had fallen silent. The older man's heart began beating faster and faster as the desperation quickly began to settle in. He couldn't stand still, shifting from one foot to the other. He mumbled a few names under his breath, but they weren't the ones he was looking for.

"Come on!"

"I don't remember his name! I just want my son. He's all I have," Pekka claimed. He took a step forward. "I'll give you whatever you want, Brekker."

Now, Kaz's gaze shifted to the one who was once and now who claimed to be 'just a waitress' for him. Those were the exact words he needed to hear to get her back. He felt a heavy weight lift off his chest.

"I'm begging you," Pekka drew him back to reality.

"Are you?" Kaz wondered curiously.

With some hesitation, Pekka Rollins had found himself lowering to the ground on his knees. He hung his head low to hide his shame. The other members of the Dime Lions glanced at one another. They didn't really know what to think of the situation.

"First, you will return what is rightfully mine," Kaz hissed.

The sound of two guns clicking could be heard in the background. When the men turned their heads to look over their shoulder, Jesper was standing there pointing his guns at them threateningly. He motioned for them to release her.

Rather roughly, Y/n was released by the two men and pushed forward in her place. She stumbled from the force, landing on the floor in a heap. She groaned to herself.

Recognizing that she was now safe, Kaz proceeded to pull two pieces of paper out of his coat pocket. He held them up for the whole crowd to see. He explained what they were.

"A confession for the murders of Tante Heleen and Constable Sem. And a quitclaim deed for Inej Ghafa," Kaz dropped the papers to the ground. He made a pen appear in his hands. "Sign both if you want to find your son alive," Kaz further explained.

On his knees, Pekka Rollins did not hesitate to take hold of the golden pen and papers. He signed his name on both of them before handing them back. He had been bested.

Slowly, Pekka rose to his feet. He hated how this whole ordeal had gone down, how he had been humiliated in front of his men, and how he had been called out for being weak. But he did everything that he had been asked to do for the sake and safety of his only son.

"Where's my son?" Pekka wondered humbly. His voice sounded tired.

"Black Veil Cemetery," Kaz answered. He spared a glance to the room full of men surrounding them. "You'll need all your men digging to find him in time," Kaz claimed.

Without a moment to spare, Pekka Rollins was the first one to leave with all of his men following behind him. The only people left were Kaz, Nina, Jesper, and Y/n. As soon as those doors closed behind the men, Kaz finally caved in.

In a split second, Kaz had rushed to be at her side. He knelt down in front of her, ignoring the aching pain he felt in his right leg. He gripped her arms tightly, shaking her a little.

"Are you alright?" Kaz demanded an answer.

"Kaz..." Y/n said breathlessly.

"Are you alright?!" Kaz said a little louder. He shook her until a few strands of hair had fallen in front of her eyes. He could see the evident tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She shook her head in response.

Now Kaz had pulled her forward into a bone crushing hug. He could feel her shoulders shaking as she sobbed into his shoulder, clinging to him so desperately. He closed his eyes to relish the feeling of her being in his arms once again. He brought his hand to the back of her hair, brushing down her hair in attempts of calming her down.

"My darling..." Kaz whispered into her ear. "You're safe now. I've got you."

For the first time, Kaz had turned his head to press his lips against her temple. He whispered her name over and over again to bring her some sense of comfort. Her eyes grew heavily and she melted in his grasp. He rocked the two of them back and forth in a soothing manner.

His arms remained around her for comfort. He even managed to carry her back to the Slat, though it pained his leg badly. He laid her down in his bed and brought a blanket to drape over her body. He stayed with her all throughout the night.

Earlier, Kaz had lied blankly to Pekka's face. Though it was a trick to not love anyone, Kaz had failed miserably at that task. Because he had fallen in love with the person who managed to heal his heart.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker smut #kaz brekker oneshot #kaz brekker request #kaz brekker series #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows

[sepublic]

            King really has a whole thing about being seen as a toy, a pet, for people to own and play with without his permission. An object to look nice and pretty and not much else, without any wants or needs of his own.

         So it feels very poetic that he constantly surrounds himself with toys and plushes to command over; King’s whole Tyrant schtick isn’t just a fantasy for him, it’s a way for him to reclaim lost autonomy by exercising his own control. It’s as if King FEELS like a toy, so he commands other toys because he’s essentially one of them. And it reflects on his juvenile nature, not being taken seriously, the revelation that it’s only ever been pretend, etc.

         That makes King’s relationship with Francois very sweet, as a toy from the human world he finds, no thanks to Luz helping him. Luz is someone whose physical cuddling and affections King DOES appreciate, because by the end of the day, Luz respects King as a person and his boundaries. King wants affection actually, but he wants it on his own terms, and there’s a lot of moments where he ‘commands’ Luz and she happily obliges, defends him, etc. Luz is very thoughtful of King’s feelings, and The Intruder is a major episode in which Luz learns to be more mindful of King in general; This of course wins the approval of his father the Titan, who decides to show Luz the light glyph for her kindness.

         But anyhow, King loves Francois and treats him kindly, often as a partner and even equal. So with all I’ve said about King’s toy motif, that transitions perfectly into his dynamic with the Collector. There’s the fact that in their initial interactions, the Collector glomps onto a clearly uncomfortable King, like a child with a pet he doesn’t quite understand is a living creature (and in King’s case, not just a pet either but a person). Dana’s own art encapsulates their relationship by portraying King as a terrified plush that the Collector loves;

         The Collector is also juvenile and loves to play pretend, and treats people like toys, which is exemplified by them transforming victims into literal toys, who are dressed up to look even prettier. But for all their issues with boundaries, the Collector seems to genuinely love and value their toys, kind of like King with Francois.

         This contrasts them with Belos, whom they believe breaks his toys out of fun; That speaks to their different desires, hence the Collector insisting they want to make friends out of others, whereas Belos finds it more simple and satisfying to just destroy his enemies. So the Collector regards his toys as, well, toys; But with a sort of loving respect that a kid who takes good care of their toys and makes sure they’re taken care of does. A projection of feelings and personality… Over the actual feelings and personality that DO exist, but alas.

         But that’s where the Collector’s relationship with King develops, because over the course of two months, they begin to respect and listen to King more, value him as a friend, etc. The Collector is more mindful of King’s boundaries, doesn’t immediately glomp onto him, actually bothers to respond to King’s criticisms. When King says the Owl Beast isn’t ready, they listen, and it’s implied the Collector has known about King visiting Eda and Lilith behind their back, but simply allowed it because friends keeping secrets is totally normal, right? And anyhow, King has been so nice, and they love King so much, they don’t want to call him out and ruin things; He can have this.

         Which leads to Francois, whom King relates to; The toy that the Collector WANTS to cuddle with. But King sets the boundaries that it’s for him (and Luz) only, and the Collector actually listens. He doesn’t touch Francois behind King’s back, and aside from a moment where he has to take it from Belos’ grasp to defend Francois, puts it right back where it belongs. He can’t have Francois, but the Collector can settle for having him BE there, so close and yet so far.

         King is Francois; He’s a beloved toy to the Collector that he loves and appreciates, treats more special than the rest, and practically as a person, a lot of the time. But he’s willing to respect Francois’ boundaries and not play with him when he doesn’t want, just as he does with King, and his visits to his mother and aunt. The Collector obviously has a lot to learn when we check up on them two months later, and King understandably still IS frustrated, hence why he calls out the Collector after the nightmare illusions at the beginning of the series finale…

         But King can tell, as a former, unruly child himself, who was only a non-issue because he lacked the power the Collector wields; The Collector is a kid like him. Who’s also learning. Who ultimately means well. And they’ve proven to be rather receptive over these two months; Not quite there, but if you put in the effort to teach and work with them, King is certain it’ll pay off as it did with him.

         The Collector was a tyrant like King, and like King, a lot of this comes after being helpless because of others as well; The Collector was put into the care of the manipulative Archivists, and later trapped by the Titan. The only way to contact them was with a disc, an object, and their word was exploited by Bill so he could lead the Titan Trappers and finish the genocide of the Archivists. If the Grimwalkers were toys to Belos, so was the Collector, for him to hide away from everyone else, as his own, like a twisted Francois. And when he’s done with the Collector, he drops him into the pit with the rest of the discarded toys he loves to break.

         So like King, the Collector being a tyrant isn’t just the result of kids being kids, it’s also a response to their lack of agency. And tbh, kids in general lack agency, hence why they can be quite unruly troublemakers and rebels, so it makes sense that the Collector also overcompensates, like King does! But both of them learn to be more mindful of boundaries, that their own pain doesn’t justify them doing the same to others, either.

         The Collector notes that King isn’t the only person allowed to touch Francois; There’s also Luz. Luz, the kindly older sister who always listened to King and was attentive to his needs, respected him, and was often desired for physical affection. The Collector wants to BE Luz since King admires her so much, hence emulating her while playing Owl House; And Luz also recognizes their similarities, with the forgiveness she gives the Collector, being a form of forgiveness towards herself for being an ‘unruly’ child.

         And the Collector also grows, has their loss of innocence, but nevertheless matures, as Luz did. They learn about death, just as Luz learned about death when she lost her father; And the Collector technically loses the Titan that night, who was arguably a turbulent father figure who failed them, too, and laments this fact to Luz. The Collector IS Luz, and like Luz in The Intruder, who gains the approval of the Titan with a light glyph, just as the Titan apologizes for the Collector and lends his power to protect them and others…

         The Collector mends their friendship with King and makes it real. They respect and listen to him completely now. And so they get to finally be Luz, not just in their relationship with her, but also in their relationship with King, being allowed to love Francois, even being given him for company by King. Just as Luz is allowed to be King’s friend, and he follows her regularly, even sacrificing himself for her at the end of Season 2.

        King and the Collector are toys who want toys to reverse that dynamic; But in the end, nobody can be a toy. And so they grow up and get to play with actual friends, and be friends to others.

#the owl house #king clawthorne #the owl house collector #Luz noceda #parallels #foils #motifs #meta

[thexfridax]

D.E.B.S. at 20: a Queer Cult Classic

Bessie Yuill Photo: Sundance/WireImage

There is a secret film hidden within the shadowy sapphic corners of Letterboxd. Some call it escapist trash, some call it an underrated cult classic, fools call it a male fantasy. It calls itself D.E.B.S. As other early-2000s chick flicks like Charlie’s Angels and St. Trinian’s have been reevaluated and embraced for their candy-floss aesthetics and campy wit over the years, the lesbian community was quietly reclaiming its own equivalent with 2004’s D.E.B.S.

The precursor to contemporary high-concept lesbian films like Bottoms, the spy flick is filled with something that queer female moviegoers still often yearn for: fun. That includes Jordana Brewster and her era-defying eyebrows as the impeccably named supervillain Lucy Diamond, John Woo–style fight scenes that parody the action genre in the same way as Charlie’s Angels, and a cheerfully cheap aesthetic where spies run around in plaid schoolgirl skirts.

D.E.B.S. was written, directed, and edited by filmmaker Angela Robinson. While “unapologetically queer” might be an overused phrase, it does apply neatly to Robinson. The Chicago-born director’s first project was a short film called Chickula: Teenage Vampire, calling on the long history of vampiric queer women that began with 1872’s Carmilla.

Her love of playing with genre led her to later put a lesbian spin on the movie musical by writing the underappreciated Girltrash: All Night Long and exploring polyamory in a period biopic about the creators of Wonder Woman, Professor Marston and the Wonder Women. On the small screen, she also burnished her lesbian credentials by working on several episodes of The L Word.

When D.E.B.S. started life as a short film, Robinson described it as “a story about a trio of superspies who are all chicks. I love all the comic-book characters: Charlie’s Angels, Batman, Josie & the Pussycats … But I always wanted them to be gay and they never were, so I wrote my own.” Success at Sundance led to Sony snatching the short up and deciding that D.E.B.S. should be a full-length feature.

Two decades later, the joy of this movie lies in the details. The tone is immediately set by a gravelly voice-over telling us that there is a secret test hidden within the SAT to recruit young female superspies (and establishing that, like Bottoms, this is a film aware of genre archetypes and willing to push believability). Our main character Amy (Sara Foster) is an academic overachiever — like many lesbians overcompensating for their perceived failure to live up to social norms. Her perfect score on the secret SAT test makes it even more scandalous when she falls for the aforementioned supervillain Lucy Diamond.

Queer friend groups may delight over the nostalgic frosty eye shadow and lip gloss worn by the D.E.B.S. (which stands for “discipline, energy, beauty, strength,” naturally) at all times. Flip phones, CGI holographic screens, and Goldfrapp’s appearance on the soundtrack will also remind you that you’re watching a film made in the early 2000s. And many will squeal when they spot Holland Taylor, over a decade before she came out, as the academy’s head.

Admittedly, the special effects are goofy enough to cross over into comedy, especially when our girls are abseiling into a restaurant or climbing walls with plungers, and the lighting could be charitably described as resembling teen soap operas of that era. But the chemistry between Amy and Lucy is crackling enough that YouTube compilations of their scenes have racked up hundreds of thousands of views online. Their fun enemies-to-lovers plotline begins with the pair pointing guns at each other and quickly progresses to a whirlwind romance (the other D.E.B.S. think Amy’s been kidnapped and launch a national manhunt, just as many friend groups have had to organize rescue missions for lesbians on weeklong first dates).

You could argue that espionage serves as a metaphor for the closet and that Amy is such an effective spy because she’s used to lying to herself about her sexuality. But that almost seems like too much weight to put on this meringue confection of a genre spoof: Its campiness liberates the characters to inhabit a fun, exaggerated universe with no serious homophobia or consequences. Guns are used, but the so-called superspies have such consistently terrible aim that there are no real casualties. And Lucy Diamond’s supposedly nefarious crimes are all reversible — the murders pinned on her are revealed to be misunderstandings, and she returns all of her stolen goods in order to win Amy back.

When this live-action Totally Spies with a lesbian twist debuted, it only made $97,000 and was dismissed by critics. But there were enough moviegoing gays impressed by its snappy dialogue, fun romance, and stunning supporting cast (including Meagan Good, Jimmi Simpson, and Devon Aoki with a French accent) for its reputation to grow online over time. In forums and YouTube comment sections, young girls were asking, “Are there any lesbian films where they just fall in love and have fun and don’t die at the end?” Their answer was D.E.B.S.

#D.E.B.S. #2004 #Angela Robinson #LGBTQ+ #Film #Queer joy #Criminally underrated #Cult classic #How is it #already 20 yrs later

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Can I have a Yan genderbend of Maleficent? Or the very least in a yandere pletonic relationship with them?

Yandere Genderbend Maleficent x Reader

You couldn’t believe you used to admire your family’s ignorance. You internally screamed as you listened to your family further embarrass themselves. They were so deluded by your great-grandfather’s pact, they had become set in the avarice founded from it. 

Long ago your great-grandfather had done the impossible. Defeating the fae army and even reclaiming the fallen land before establishing a functional militia there. Earning those honor-driven fae’s respect made your kingdom one to be praised in legend and stories to come. Some suspected you were a puppet state, and others wondered if you had a secret item that had the fae yielding to you. But you knew the truth. You were the only one who actually devoted time to the archives and private libraries. Actually yearning to know the truth. What you found was a successful mission to show the value of humanity. Your great-grandfather had befriended the young fae responsible for the war and somehow convinced him to explore the intricacies of the kingdom. The kingdom was filled with joy and a general consensus to be good. It sounded like paradise. The letters proved that the great fae thought precisely the same which is why he raised no alarm when he grew close with the prince–your grandfather. This relationship would be scandalous, judging by the letters both were torn between letting them be together. The fae was madly in love easily sharing his devotions with his friend, only for the king to show concern. For he knew his child and believed it would lead to their doom. As the king aged his authority was no longer uncontested and it was easy for his nobles to offer his throne in reward for control of the fae.  It wasn’t long before your grandfather returned wings in hand and was crowned as the greatest king to be. It wouldn’t be until that same fae returned to curse your mother that the situation would intensify. The story would tell of the princess cursed to sleep through her own pregnancy and the future king that would slay the dragon that was that revenge-stricken fae. 

They thought the body had faded because they had won. They were wrong. 

“Oh, King of Fae can’t bygones be bygones?! After all your family and ours were great friends.”

You cringed as the green magic seemed to flare up once again. You bit your tongue, for the time being, your parents were completely oblivious to the friendly relations you continued to nurture with various fae.  

“Yeah! What more do you want?! At this rate your just going to keep coming back to scam us or something.”

Your foolish brother piped in. Of course, he wouldn’t be aware of the true nature of the king before him. Nor of the power he possessed. You were lucky he hadn’t sucked the life out of everyone in this room.

“...I need proof of your loyalty to me. Something prized by your people.” Eyes hauntingly green roamed the room before landing on the oldest prince. “Someone precious.”

“Oh heavens! No, please!” Your mother cried leaning into your father who was visibly sweating.

“I’d rather die than give my son to you! Surely there is a gem or item you’d wish from us.”

The fae glowered. “No. Anything I want I can have. Anything I want I can take. Besides you, humans are hardly grasping what I want! Give me your prize!”

Prince Phil opened his mouth in a plea before being interrupted by the clicking of his younger sibling's heels. Poised and focused they easily attracted the attention of everyone in the room. Servants, guards and the royal family alike watched as the youngest royal came closer to the towering fae. If it weren’t for the situation he would have turned up his nose, the little parasite had done nothing but ruin his right to the throne. Not in the official light–his parents had always loved him more: they told him so themselves. But among the guards, the people, the servants, and even assassins had no stronger loyalty than to them. An embarrassment to the one birthed to wear it. He couldn’t stand (Y/n)! 

Nonetheless, he watched as they bowed, practically on their knees to the fae distastefully dragging their cape on the ground. A shameful appearance for someone of royal blood; no matter how despicable. 

They spoke, “Forgive us, my King. They are unaware of your history with the rulers of this kingdom and in no way are a reflection of the people who revere your existence.”

The green glow that had been permeating off the horned guest seemed to lessen as he watched blankly at (Y/n)’s plea. I could hear the scoldings they no doubt would receive, not to mention the punishments. What would it be? No more horse riding? Banned from the kitchen? Restricted from traveling? Oh, the possibilities were endless…

The fae didn’t speak which allowed (Y/n) to speak once again. 

“I fear that my family has not much to spare…but if you’d be willing I offer myself to you.”

“(Y/n)! Speak no more!” Father called with more worry than I expected. But they continued looking into the monster’s glowing eyes as if to manipulate him as they had done with so many others.

“If you’d be willing your Grace, let me be your prize!” Tilting his head he seemed to consider before looking at father who had looked away. His lips opened to speak before another interruption occurred. 

“(Y/n) please don’t do this!” 

“Master please consider!”

“We’ll go!”

“Yes! Please you mustn’t this kingdom needs ya!”

Many of the lowly servants dropped to their knees calling out from behind the guards who were hardly doing anything to restrain them. Sneering I had half a mind to strike them now but I wasn’t a fool; decorum was important even for the company of a monster.

(Y/n) seemed to falter before continuing to bow to the creature, who tilted his head once more and smiled in amusement.

“I was worried I was being offered a worthless prize…” Withdrawing a clawed hand from his robe he lifted their chin and trembling lips. Smiling devilishly as that green fire around him flared. 

“But I realize this is the fabled Shadow Dove, the silent pacifist between our peoples. Continuing to keep the…altruism within your kingdom.” 

Father made a grumbled murmur from his beard and Mother looked just as surprised as me. I paid no mind as he made (Y/n) rise with a pull of their hand. He moved around them to step closer to our thrones. I drew my sword ignoring the shaking as I pointed in his direction. He looked to me, monstrous eyes keeping me at a distance he turned to look at father and mother smiling with that horrifying display of teeth. Staff in hand the green flare seemed to spout from the staff in a frightening display. 

“I prophesy that when I take your Dove, your kingdom will crumble. From within its own walls your rule will end! From those ashes, I will take your kingdom and the last of your blood will be mine. ” He scoffed as mother shook intensely before mumbling something to himself…”That is if it survives from my own.” 

With a slapping gust of wind and a pull of his robe; the only evidence that he was here was the singed marks against the carpet. 

____________________________________________________________

As expected, the moment Maleficent left your mother broke into tears attracting the attention of your father and brother. Allowing you to leave quickly; as you were sure the anger behind their fear was bubbling. No doubt they’d somehow take it out on you, even as you were solely responsible for their lives. 

“Oh, Master!” 

“Do ya really h’ve ta go?”

“Will ya visit?” 

Running into the arms of your family you let your shoulders sag. You let your worry show as you confided in them. To think the only people in the castle who were least literate were more aware of how much the monarchy relied on them than the actual people in power. You prepared yourself accordingly, sending letters to nobles, trade partners, and allies. Disclosing all the information so they knew where your country was at. You fiddled with your plume as you debated reporting Maleficent’s prophecy. 

*Tap Tap*

You eyed past your pile of papers at the door. Seeing no one you continued to work

*Tap Tap*

You looked up again, with more vigor. You needed to focus on the good of your kingdom.

*Tap Tap*

“Alright, alright. I’m coming “ You began your search of the room looking frantically for the cause. Only to find it past your reflection in the window. You opened it letting the crow with something in its feet fly into your office. 

“Well hello there.” 

You carefully stroke the corvid as you unwrap the delivery. It was a letter and a vial filled with a liquid that seemed to change color under the light of the fire. 

Dearest (Y/n),

In preparation for our marriage, I have sent to you an elixir. It is to ensure good health as the days count down before I come to retrieve you. I am willing to let you do what you will before I collect you. If there should be any circumstances that lead to you not drinking the elixir or otherwise damaging my prize I will speed that process up, with extreme prejudice. 

–Maleficent

You eyed said elixir with great suspicion but after flashing a look of question to the—shrugging(?) crow, you downed it. Hacking at the burn that ran from your mouth to your esophagus you staggered onto your office couch. Scratching at the cushions you tried to refrain from screaming at the pain. It felt like your blood was boiling; thankfully your body felt the same and allowed you to fall into pain-numbing sleep. 

The crow tilted its head, watching with beady eyes at the shivering human on the couch. Seeing that the human was still breathing the crow set to take off before being interrupted. Harsh knocking led before the door swung open to reveal a man dressed in royal robes. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he stepped towards the couch. He seemed to hesitate before shakily withdrawing the sword from its scabbard, raising it above your sleeping head.

“CAW!”

The corvid call startled the wielder, fearfully returning the sword to its resting place. He looked at the bird with a scoff, making moves to scare it away before stalking out of your office. Seeing as the letter was delivered and its receiver followed instructions, the crow flew away returning to its master. 

The following morning, you continued to work having a vague recollection of the delivery. You pressed on, working diligently to organize the kingdom’s assets as best as you could. You held your face in your hands having finally sent your signature on a national ordinance. Preparing for your complete absence was harder than you thought. With the news of your engagement, the people were in a panic: riots, spreading hysteria, and massive scales of evacuation. Thousands of letters from allies and nobles alike begging to go to war instead of your marriage. It was too much for one person to take, especially if you were not nearly as experienced as a certain king should be. Speaking of the failures+ royal family they haven’t made an effort to speak to you. You couldn’t decide whether it was because they blamed you or were finally accepting how little they did on their own. 

“Your highness…your parents invited you to dinner?” Your maid spoke unassuredly, if he was befuddled by the notion of inviting someone you live with to eat or that they reached out at all you couldn’t tell. Nonetheless, you accepted, making quick work of the remaining paperwork so that you could finally breathe. Savoring the cobblestone walls you had grown with: cried upon, slept on, dragged your fingers along. Doing the same in your adulthood you fought your tears as you realized how much you’d missed your home and the people maintaining it. 

Arriving at the dining hall the king, queen, and their son was already seated digging into their food refusing to pause to acknowledge your entry. You sat at the farthest place setting with nothing on the plate your internally groaned. This was going to be a blood bath. A maid hurried to your side with foods you didn’t like silently apologizing; you deduced this was on purpose as you deadpanned to your family. With nothing but the cacophonous consumption to fill the echoing chamber of the dining hall. Only when you heard the clinking of silverware and the loud sucking of fingers that it seemed they were done. 

“Are you not hungry? Are you so fickle that you won’t eat before we drink?” The king jovially chuckled as he wiped his greasy fingers on the vestigial robes your forefathers had worn before. In his laughing, the queen joined in. Phil did not. Instead, he diligently stared at his glass, staying still as he let a maid pour the red wine. You did not join in their laughter even as everyone’s glass was filled, including yours. You eyed the glass suspiciously even as they were already helping themselves to sip. 

-DoN’T dRink ThIS-

Whatever that was, you agreed refusing to so much as touch the glass. 

The king coughed for attention, raising his refilled glass as he gestured towards you. “Now we toast to the new beginnings that come with the relations beyond!” 

The queen clapped to her husband before downing what had to be her third glass, the king downed him, but Phil did not. He seemed to be glaring at the glass as he violently swished the liquid in his glass. 

You still didn’t touch your glass even as their contented expressions transformed into nervous looks. Eyes darting from your glass to one another king and queen visibly began to sweat and shift in their seats. 

“Uhm (Y/n) dear why don’t you join us for our toast?” The queen nervously chuckled. 

“I don’t want to.”

“M-maybe you just don’t want to eat on an empty stomach. Serv-”

“No, I just do not want to drink this.”

In a nervously shared eye contact your parents turned toward you as they fruitlessly pleaded that you drink the wine. All the more reason to believe something was amiss. They continued their desperate pleas as you stood to leave. 

“I excuse myself. I have other matters to attend to-”

“No, you don’t!” Phil exclaimed springing from his chair, drawing his sword out, and pointing it at you. You faltered in your route looking to the exit where the guards were posted to see the queen barring the doors. Moving backward with the blade’s tip pointed toward you stopped when you felt the coolness of the wall.

“You’ve sunk your poisoned talons into this kingdom and I’m taking you out of it!” Phil screamed but you screamed right back.

“You idiot! Do you realize if you harm a single hair on my head this kingdom is doomed?! Maybe that wouldn’t have been the case if you had any semblance of the state of the kingdom!”

Your explanation seemed to make him hesitate only for him to come even closer letting the frigidness of the flat side of the blade sit on your neck. You could see the sweat on his brow and your parents working to hold the door. Fearing it is your last opportunity you looked to the narrow windows that showed the faraway lights of the town below and that crow who was sat with another message around its foot. You snapped back to attention as Phil screamed once more.

“Aaagh! Y-you couldn’t just have drunk the wine, you just had to do this…But I’ll DO IT! FOR MY KINGDOM!” 

He swiped the blade across your neck before swiping again at your chest. You fell to the floor as you held the parts that burned with searing pain, writhing as you felt more blood rush over your hands. Worried you’d be succumbing to your death you let yourself silently cry as you lost the strength to hold your arms up. Your vision was spotty. All you could hear was the deafened pounding against the door, Phil’s crying, the comfort that followed from the queen…your mother

“W-what is that?! What is this?! Witchcraft?” 

The blade was pointed at what would have been your corpse if it weren’t for your blood turning into a silver color and receding back into your body. The wounds you had began to close before stopping as you slumped to the ground. The royal family waited in silence as they watched you lay there. Still and unmoving they came closer to poke at your body hoping that you would remain so. But before they could do so the castle began to shake, windows shattered, and a storm surged outside. Hair and capes whipping in the wind it only took a flash of green lightning for the fae king had arrived.

“To think it took only three dolts to further your kingdom’s destruction; humans continue to amaze me.” 

Maleficent spoke candidly before carefully pulling you up into his arms. Phil foolishly stuck his sword out towards the fae. 

“So what are you going to do, huh?! Burn me with fire for hurting your precious little prize?!”

He shook as Malleus turned towards him staring him down with that intimidating glare and flare of magic. 

“Hahaha!”

He laughed flashing his elongated fangs and letting Phil and the family sigh. 

“No. Thanks to my productivity they’re not dead,” there was a breath of relief. One that was short-lived,” but your town will though and by tomorrow everyone will know why. Adieu.” 

Nodding his head to the staff and guard that had broken through the doors and pointed accusatorially at the royal family as they watched Maleficent teleport away; beginning the disruption that would spur the prophecy they’d been given.

______________________________________________________________

When you awoke you felt an ache all throughout your body, making your awakening a slow mission. Looking around you weren’t in your home, instead, you were in a darker place with walls of stone and torches of green fire. Barely tilting your head, you laid eyes on that crow kirking its head in your direction before flying off. You had the urge to follow struggling to move with your achy legs and IV pumping something silver into your veins. Unplugging it as you hobbled out of your room, you relied on the cold feeling of your bare feet against the floor to wake you up as you followed the waiting crow. 

It felt like you were walking a maze blindly following the corvid as he led you through the barren hallways. Finally sitting still he cawed on a rootlike perch that sat alongside the grand thorned throne in which Maleficent sat with legs spread open in attire much more relaxed than his usual cape. You stared inawe curious if you were dreaming.

“Come Dove. Sit with me. You have destroyed your first kingdom; here we bask in the glory of our immense superiority.”

“B-but I’m nothing but spoils from that destruction…if I should be so bold.”

He smiled. A smile of amusement as you retained your demeanor even in something as simple as your night cloth. 

“Sit, (Y/n). I have already found you worthy of this honor. You are mine after all.”

You bowed before stepping up the stairs to his throne and letting yourself sit upon the leg of the fae King. Trying to still your heart as his hand wraps around your waist and pulls you close to cast a spell on a hovering ball of water.

“Now my Dove, let us watch their prophecy become reality.”

#yandere genderbend maleficent #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere maleficent #yandere genderbent disney #yandere genderbent maleficent #yandere male maleficent #yandere fairy tale #yandere disney #yandere disney x reader #yandere disney genderbent #yanderes #yandere #yandere male

[cre8inghavoc]

What are friends for?

Note:

This is my first ever post, so please be kind! I've been working on this piece for a few days, and there will be more parts to come, but it may take some time to complete. The story will also include text messages between you and your friends (SMAU). I'll do my best to maintain a good length for the story, but there may be some shorter parts. Also, I'm new to this, so there may be a few errors, but I hope you enjoy the story! :)

Status: ongoing!!

Updates: Whenever I can, no set date.

WC: 2756

Description: Characters are aged up. Y/N's stuck in a toxic relationship with her controlling boyfriend, feeling lost and doubting herself. Now, she's facing a crucial choice: stay put or find the courage to break free and reclaim her independence. Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader

Genre/Warnings: [18+] This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.

Your friends have been telling you to leave your boyfriend for months now. They warned you about him, about his manipulative, controlling, and narcissistic nature, which contributes to his toxicity. They keep pointing out his flaws – how he always wants. No. NEEDS to tag along wherever you go, how he tries to control what you wear and who you hang out with. And don't even get started on the name-calling and arguments that seem to happen like every single day. But despite all their warnings, you find yourself wondering if maybe it's just his way of showing he cares… it was all out of love wasn’t it? If he didn’t care about you he wouldn’t act the way he does… 

Right…?

You're constantly caught in a loophole of conflicting feelings. On one hand, you can't help but notice the red flags they've been waving in your face. But on the other hand, there's a part of you that wants to believe there's genuine love behind his actions. He loves you?

Right…?

Still, you can't help but question: does all this make him a "bad boyfriend"? Sure, he's not physically abusive, but his mood swings leave you feeling like you're walking on eggshells. As you grapple with these thoughts, you can't help but wonder where to draw the line between love and toxicity.

"Y/N!"

You snapped back to reality as Maki's voice cut through your thoughts, finding yourself now parked in front of Yuta's house, a 15-minute drive from your own.

"Are you okay? You've been lost in thought the entire car ride here," Maki asked, a mix of concern and confusion evident in her tone.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just thinking about the exams coming up," you replied with a forced smile, though it didn't seem to convince her entirely. Luckily for you, she didn't question further. 

You made sure to silence your phone before heading out, knowing the argument that would likely occur with your boyfriend over your plans with friends. It wasn't news to you that he disapproved of your friendship with Yuta and Inukami, despite having plenty of female friends himself. Hypocritical isn't it. But today, you decided to take a stand. You were tired of the never-ending arguments and his controlling behaviour. It felt like you couldn't say or do anything without setting him off, and honestly, you were fed up with it.

You felt it was the right decision, even if it meant facing another argument later. You were determined to spend the day enjoying yourself with your friends, and if that meant upsetting him, then you were willing to deal with the consequences. After all, arguments had become a daily occurrence between you two, so what harm would one more do?

You didn’t quite know where this newfound confidence had come from. Normally, the thought of upsetting him would send shivers down your spine, making you hesitant to go against his wishes. But today was different. You were reaching a breaking point, tired of his behaviour and the constant strain it put on you. Mentally, you were drained. Ever since getting together with him, you'd been affected with a sense of unhappiness, a feeling that even your friends had picked up on. All they wanted was to see you happy again, but it felt like an impossible challenge to break free from his control and spend time with them. He dictated every aspect of your life, and you were beginning to realize just how suffocating it had become.

He felt like a never-ending storm cloud, hovering over you wherever you went, casting a shadow of negativity that left you feeling drained and miserable. It was as if his presence drained your strength, both physically and mentally, until you were left feeling defeated. You knew deep down that the only way to find a “cure” was to get rid of him, but it was far from simple. If it were that easy, you would've done it long ago, at the first signs of trouble.

Believe it or not, he wasn't always like this. That's why you were drawn to him in the first place. But as time passed, things only seemed to deteriorate. A part of you held onto hope that he would revert to the person he once was—caring, supportive, and loving. Yet, as months turned into nearly a year, nothing changed. If anything, it only seemed to worsen. 

Why? Why did he change? Was it something you did? Was it your fault? Did you somehow fall short? He always made you question your self worth. He made you believe that this was what you deserved—that you deserved to be hurt, to be broken. He convinced you that you weren't worthy of more.

You and Maki entered Yuta's house, using the spare key you both had. It was a common practice among your close group of friends; you all had keys to each other's homes. After all, you practically grew up together, so there was nothing unusual about dropping by unannounced.

Inumaki and Yuta greeted you warmly as you entered the living room, where they were too focused on a video game. As the hours passed, laughter filled the room, followed by playful teasing and occasional cussing at each other due to the intense gaming moments. You all talked about life, ate your favourite meals, and for the first time in a while, you felt a sense of happiness return. It was as if you were reconnecting with the positive, joyful version of yourself that had been buried beneath the weight of recent struggles.

"I'll be right back! Just need to use the bathroom," you announce before grabbing your phone and heading off.

"Do you want us to pause the movie?" Yuta offers, showing his consideration for your absence.

"No, it's okay! Keep watching, I'll be quick," you assure them with a laugh as you slip away.

Time flew by, and before you knew it, it was almost 9pm. Your peaceful day took an abrupt turn when you saw multiple missed phone calls from no other, your loser of a boyfriend. 

**5 MISSED PHONE CALLS AND MESSAGES BETWEEN Y/N & BF**

Luckily, Maki, Inukami, and Yuta were too engaged in the movie to notice your lengthened absence. However, tears welled up in your eyes as you read the messages, feeling the weight of self-doubt creeping in once again.

"I’m just a bitch. That’s all I am. I'm nobody," you muttered to yourself, your eyes red as you struggled to contain your emotions. You couldn't afford to show weakness in front of your friends. This shouldn't affect you, you reminded yourself. You knew this was coming, so why did it hurt so much?

Knock Knock

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted your thoughts. "Hey, Y/N. You okay in there?" Maki's concerned voice broke through your internal chaos.

Fuck.

Of course, Maki sensed something was wrong. She had picked up on it the moment she picked you up. She wasn't one to pry, though. She respected your privacy, and if you didn't bring up the issues first, she wouldn't force them out of you. That's why you cherished her friendship so much—she was the best friend anyone could ask for.

You wanted to tell her, you really did, but you knew all too well what her response would be, and frankly, you didn't want to hear it—not today. All you wanted was to be with your friends, to immerse yourself in their company and forget about your troubles, if only for a little while. You didn't want them worrying about you or your mental state. So you took a deep breath and plastered on a smile, hiding all the negativity like you always did.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just on the phone with my mom," you said, forcing a smile as you opened the bathroom door, only to be met with Maki's skeptical expression. Her raised eyebrow spoke volumes, questioning your excuse without saying a word. But she didn't press further. Instead, she offered a soft smile and placed a comforting hand on your back.

"You're missing the movie. We decided to pause it when you didn't return after five minutes. Come on, let's go," she said gently, leading you back to the living room.

You both made your way downstairs and settled back onto the couch, resuming the movie with the others. After a few minutes, Yuta stood up from his spot and took a seat beside you, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear so only you could hear him.

"Hey, I know you haven't been feeling your best lately, and I understand why... But I want you to know that you can always talk to me. To us. We're here for you, no matter what." he whispered, his words causing your heart to stop for a moment. A soft smile spread across your lips as he leaned back, his eyes meeting yours with warmth.

"Thank you," you replied softly, leaning your head against his shoulder as the movie continued. Resting on each other like this was a familiar gesture among your group—it was something you all did since childhood, a sign of trust and comfort. So when you leaned on Yuta's shoulder, it wasn't a romantic gesture—it was more like seeking comfort from an older brother figure. Your friends have always been there for you, caring and supportive, much like older siblings would be.

Finally the movie finished, with the time now showing 11:16pm—it’s very late, thank god you guys had no classes scheduled for the next two days.

"It's getting late, Y/N. Are you ready to head back?" Maki asked, her expression soft with concern.

Before you could answer, Inukami jumped in with a hopeful tone, asking if you guys could stay a bit longer. You could tell he was really loving the reunion, bringing back memories of all the fun times your group had shared in the past… just like before you got into a relationship. 

"Yeah, come on, Maki and Y/N! We haven't had this much fun in a while. It feels good for the group to get back together again," Yuta chimed in, his gaze shifting between Maki and you. The collective attention turned to you, though you knew it wasn't intentional—they subconsciously understood that the decision rested with you, or rather, with your boyfriend's expectations.

Even though it was late, the idea of going home to an empty house, knowing your boyfriend would be out, doing who knows what, filled you with dread. You knew it would only trigger more overthinking and anxiety so with a reassuring smile, you decided against it. Tonight, you didn't feel like going home, and that was perfectly okay.

"Fuck it," you thought, smiling back at them. 

"Why don't we have a sleepover?" You ask, breaking the silence. Their eyes widen in shock, the suggestion catches everyone off guard. It's been a while since the last sleepover, back before you started dating your controlling boyfriend. They've tried to organize some since then, but you always declined, due to your boyfriend's disapproval.

Of course. Typical.

Their initial shock quickly turns into smiles and nods as they exchange glances before turning back to you.

"Let's do it!" Maki says with excitement.

All of them cheered in excitement, and the lively conversation continued throughout the night until exhaustion finally led to all of you drifting off to sleep on Yuta's spacious and comfortable couch. Despite the cozy setup, you found it hard to sleep as your mind continued to race, clouded by thoughts of him once again. Unable to find peace, you quietly slipped outside to the backyard, just to get some air.

Yuta awoke shortly afterward, noticing your absence. He got up from the couch, careful not to disturb Maki and Inumaki and began searching the house, half expecting to find you sleeping in his room. But you weren't there. He started to slightly panic as he considered the possibility of you leaving without informing anyone. How did you get home? Was something wrong? Why would you leave without saying anything?

As his mind rushed with worry, Yuta made his way to the backyard door and spotted you sitting on the stairs. Leaning against the door frame for a moment, he gathered his thoughts before joining you outside, silently taking a seat beside you.

"Hey," Yuta says as he settles beside you.

You jump at the sudden sound, caught off guard by his unexpected presence. "Omg, Yuta," you playfully shove his shoulder, "don't sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry," he chuckles softly, "didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing out here this late?" he questions.

"Couldn't fall asleep so I decided to get some air."

"Something on your mind?" He asks with concern.

I smile at him. "No."

"Come on, Y/N. I've known you for years; you think I can't tell when something's on your mind..."

You both sit there in silence for a moment before he speaks up again.

"Is it—"

"Mhm. But I don't want to talk about him. I'm here with you guys today, and that's what's important. Not him," you state, trying to change the conversation away from your boyfriend.

Yuta gives you a reassuring smile and nods, but then an awkward silence settles between you. It's unusual; conversations with your friends usually flow effortlessly, so why does it feel so difficult now?

After a moment, you decide to break the silence.

"Yuta..." you begin hesitantly.

He meets your gaze with a soft look. "Yeah?"

"I'm thinking about breaking up with him, you know," you confess.

Yuta's eyes widened in shock, a spark of excitement shining in him. As your best friend, he genuinely cares about your well-being and wants what's best for you. They all do, and they know that leaving your boyfriend will bring out the best in you, bring back the real you.

"Really?! How come... I mean, I already know why, but I'm just curious after all the times we've mentioned it to you, you never really pa—"

"Yuta," you interject, giggling at his enthusiasm.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking, and being here with you guys today reminded me of the times we used to have together before him and I got together. And honestly... I haven't felt happier and more relaxed in a long time until now. It's like when I'm with you guys, I'm constantly smiling, laughing, talking, and I never feel judged. But with him, I feel so... miserable. I don't even remember the last time he and I actually talked and had a laugh together. It's always arguments, and he's the one who always starts them over nothing."

Yuta places a comforting hand on your shoulder and gently wipes away the tears on your face. You hadn't realized you were crying. You tried your hardest not to cry for months, but while telling Yuta how you felt, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Shhh... it's okay, Y/N. I'm glad you feel like yourself when you're with us. You deserve so much better than that jerk," he reassures you, his words bringing a sense of comfort.

He never fails to make you laugh.

"Thanks, Yuta," you say gratefully.

"Hey, what are you guys doing outside?" Maki and Inumaki mumble sleepily as they stand at the door.

Yuta grins mischievously and glances over at them. "What's with that ugly grin?" Maki jokes, prompting laughter from everyone.

"MAKI!" you all shout in unison, teasing her.

Yuta can't contain his excitement any longer. "Y/N is planning on breaking up with her boyfriend!" he blurts out.

If Maki and Inumaki thought they were awake before, they're definitely wide awake now. They exchange shocked glances between you and Yuta, repeating the gesture several times. You can't help but smile; despite the gravity of the situation, you feel a sense of pride. Proud that you've finally gained the courage to do something you've been wanting to do for months.

"You're not messing with us, right? Because I swear to god Y/N, if I find out yo—" Maki begins, her voice tinged with concern.

You cut her off before she can finish her sentence. "I swear I'm not messing with you guys. I'm going to do it tomorrow night."

Yipeee!! Go Y/N!!! finally we've all been waiting for this moment.

im currently working on the next part so please be patient!

Also, thank you so much for reading!

#fushiguro megumi x reader #smau #jjk smau #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #megumi fushiguro #megumi smau #jjk fluff #megumi fluff #fluff #angst #jjk angst #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smau #jujutsu kaisen megumi

[sugar-grigri]

Hey! Have you noticed the visual parallels between the gun fiend and Chainsaw man in this latest (152th) chapter?

The parallel between Aki and Denji in the last chapter

No, I hadn't noticed, and I like that others have because I might have an explanation for this parallel.

Fujimoto likes parallels, but this time he does it the other way round. Let me explain: for me, and according to my interpretation, he had already made an explicit reference to chapters 78/79 in this chapter:

Chapter 142 exploited Denji's relationship with others, but also with being a CSM, just as Fumiko's speech only reinforces the fact that even when she places herself as a victim, she reinforces Denji's position as a martyr.

Even when Fumiko argues that she saw CSM as a child, the chapter proves her wrong, whether through her unsuccessful manipulation techniques, her many contradictions, but above all her behaviour is typical, allowing Denji to deny the pain he suffered by killing his brother.

I won't go into it again ((if you want to know more, the link is above)) the only thing you need to remember here is that Fujimoto still intends to exploit Aki's death, albeit in a subtle, poetic way in part 2.

In chapter 152, Denji suffers because he has decided to; his suffering is his own, he demands it and even sees it as a means of experiencing pleasure. What's more, this chapter follows on from chapters 150/151 in Denji's claim to his own identity: I WANT to be CSM, and no one is going to stop me. The negative consequences are mine because I've decided to.

Whereas during his confrontation with Aki, Denji's identity was stolen by his "fans" (a theme dealt with in chapter 142), who positioned themselves as the only suffering parties (ignoring Denji's), and it was the frightened, bruised men and women who decided that CSM had to save them, had to act and kill.

So chapter 152 is more than an awakening, it's Denji who takes back the right to suffer if he has decided to do so. Before, it was always the others who decided, but instead of taking the plunge and saying: I'll never let myself suffer again, this time the martyr doesn't want his suffering to be taken away from him.

Because if we take away Denji's suffering, he won't turn into a CSM anymore

If that's taken away, his memories of Power and Aki are fragmented

These last two sentences are actually linked, because Denji has learnt to love just as much as he has learnt to suffer through Aki and Power. Aki's curse is to have been possessed by his sworn enemy, the Gun Devil, who reclaims his rights over the man who tried to resist him: to be there to make Aki's family suffer, always, even the second time around.

As the curse repeats itself, Aki's mind is stuck in his childhood, when it hadn't yet been broken, so he's blindly enjoying himself. Because, paradoxical though it may sound, it was when Aki realised the cruelty of this world, the loss of loved ones, that he tried to protect his family - the greatest act of love. Suffering is an awareness.

Aki had gambled on his suffering before, wasting his years of life with almost no ties. And when he began to change his perception of wanting to do something for his family, those wasted years didn't leave him enough time to protect his second family.

While he was escaping the suffering of his first family, he didn't even realise that he was causing the second to suffer. Fate was simply amused.

It is just as much for Power, a bestial being by nature who has already learnt about the suffering of losing loved ones with Meowy's kidnapping, Aki's anguish possessed at the door, bringing a birthday cake to Denji as an act of kindness, before realising that she would rather die than let Denji die. Suffering is also what brings destinies together and intertwines them.

Power and Aki are symbols of the same thing: when suffering began to be reflected in others, materialising in the fear of losing a loved one, fate turned against them.

So what Denji is doing is a narrative attempt to free himself from his fate, if he starts to fear more for Nayuta than for himself, if he stops being CSM for her, then the passage of suffering turned against oneself, there will always be someone to catch the ball. So Denji ends the cycle.

Denji will see no-one but his pain, Pochita, he will ignore even the flames that tore him away from his animal family, he will push back to Nayuta. It's a retreat into his own identity in the final chapter, a futile attempt to escape from a pain even worse than the pain of being cut in two, the pain of seeing another part of himself ripped away: a loved one.

Now we've pretty much understood the parallel. But don't forget the beginning of this post, Denji is doing exactly what Aki is doing.

Chapter 152 is the hero's attempt to regain control of his destiny, as if suddenly aware of the suffering inherent in the work, wanting to reverse it, to turn it into pleasure.

But he will not escape his fate. Denji may laugh, but only fate will have the last laugh.

#csm spoilers #chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm 152 #csm 151 #csm 150 #csm 142 #denji hayakawa #denji #nayuta #nayuta hayakawa #aki hayakawa #power hayakawa #aki #my thoughts #ask

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Queen - Mikasa

Kinktober masterlist

Warnings: 18+, smut, facesitting, oral sex, fluff, pet names

A/n: Day 26: Facesitting! My first aot fic is a Mikasa wlw extravaganza ... Nature is healing.

Word count: 979

Read on ao3

“C’mon.” You tapped Mikasa’s naked thigh in encouragement. “Just ride me.”

She looked away, seemingly to conceal her blush. “Give me a second.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just …” She fidgeted. “I don’t want to hurt you is all.”

You clicked your tongue on the roof of your mouth. You looped a hand around her neck to bring her closer, your breath painting her lips as you said, “This isn’t my first rodeo, Mikasa.” You pecked her on the lips. “Hurt me. Hurt me.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes but began to fall back all the same. 

“C’mon.” You kissed her plump lips before trailing down her chin, jaw, beginning to attack her throat. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste your pussy this way. Just let me …”

“Okay.” On cue, Mikasa spread her legs wide. 

You felt them come apart as you made your way down the valley of her breasts, taking advantage of the position to flick and suck at her pert nipples. You kissed the underside of her tits, reveled in Mikasa’s twitch as your lips grazed one of her ribs. You swiped and circled in the dip of her navel. 

“You’re — You’re stalling.” You took the tremble in her voice as a compliment. 

“Savoring,” You corrected, voice gentle as you kiss your lover’s abs. Your lips brushed against Mikasa’s slight pubes before swiping your tongue out at the onset of her slit. You licked your own lips as you ease her lips open, her clit in sight.

“Please …”

“God, I love you like this.” One hand propped up your chin while you swept a finger pad over her clit — tap, tap, tap — to watch her shiver. You’ve played this game with her before. You stared eagle-eyed at her pussy, knowing soon her lips would start to glisten. She would whine and her legs, trapping you in her middle, would squirm. And all for you. “All obedient and begging.” You lifted her clitoral hood to further expose your prize, leaning down to suck the nub, and relished Mikasa’s cry above you. “Y’know, I was just talking to Eren last night about —“

Mikasa stopped you with a hand behind your head, pressing you into her cunt. “I don’t want to talk about Eren right now.”

“What?” You teased, Mikasa’s juices coating your tongue. “I’m just saying —”

A blink and Mikasa was out from beneath you. You read her face and the room and took her place on the bed, knowing better to aggravate your queen beyond her limit, especially when you haven’t yet satiated her desires. Mikasa waited for your head to hit the pillow before she mounted your face, sufficiently muffling your snickering. 

“Do something purposeful with that mouth,” Mikasa droned, though the blush bridging her cheeks gave her away. 

A jolt of pleasure shot through you to know you were affecting her. You trailed hands up her thighs before they could press into her hips. Mikasa’s lips parted as your lips circled her clit and gave it a purposeful suck. 

“Ahh …” Mikasa moans mingled with the suction sounds emitting from your lips. She began rocking into your mouth, riding your face as you released and reclaimed her clit.

You tapped her side. “Harder, Mikasa, my love, c’mon …”

Mikasa’s eyes were closed as she rode your face, and for a second you weren’t sure if she even heard you — until she thrust into your mouth. Your eyes rolled into your head; the motion had released a new globe of juice into your mouth. 

“Fu — Fuck …!” Mikasa’s hands rested on either side of your head as your tongue wandered, stroking her lips, lapping into her hole. 

You moaned into her cunt, reinforced the heavenly sounds she was already making. You had half a mind to try to sneak a hand to your own cunt and jerk yourself off to her cries — so shrill and girlish, god, and only you got to see her like this? But you resisted; you wanted this to be about her.

Especially since Mikasa’s composure was evaporating by the second. With her eyes squeezed tight and face running over with red, she tribbed into your face, her clit knocking into the hilt of your nose when not accosted by your mouth. You yanked her by her hips and shoved her clit into your mouth. 

“Oh — Oh!” Mikasa began to squirm.

Right on time. “Are you close, my queen?” You breathed out.

“Yes!”

You asked but didn’t need to; Mikasa’s trembling, her cries, only increasing in volume, told you everything you needed to know. You snaked hands up the planes of her refined chest to cup her breasts, tweaking her nipples with your thumbs.

Mikasa cried out, drenching your tongue with her juices. She lurched forward, bangs curtaining her face. You took the responsibility of holding her as she rode out her climax on your pruning lips.

“Mmm …” She opened her eyes and you saw tears pebbled in their corners. 

I love her so much. Mikasa scanned the upper half of your face wordlessly. Seemingly coming to her senses, she removed herself, and you lamented the relieving pressure. After this little experiment, you were sure you could live the rest of your life with Mikasa above you. Your eyes fluttered as she maneuvered to the side of the bed. 

You turned to her. “C’mere,” You said, cajoling her with fingers petting her forearm.

You licked the remnants of Mikasa from your lips, partly out of desperation, partly to give yourself something to do as she situated herself at your side.

She swatted you a faint smile. 

You giggled. “What?”

She eyed you. Realization dawned on you.

“Eren?” You giggled harder. “You’re still mad —?” 

“Don’t bring up other people when we’re doing this,” she said.

You snuggled into her neck and she let you, knowing full well other people stood for Eren. “Roger.”

#aot smut #mikasa smut #mikasa x reader #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #aot x female reader #kinktober #mikasa x you #mikasa x y/n

[ironmandeficiency]

the hobbit + hozier songs

characters included: kíli, bilbo, dwalin, thorin, nori, bofur, ori, fíli, dori, tauriel

word count: 1166

a/n: the amazing and precious @wordbunch inspired me to write these bc of her lotr/th characters as taylor swift songs posts & i couldn't be more excited to finally post this labor of love!! thank you bestie for listening to me scream abt this for nearly two months lol

kíli: foreigner’s god

he loves outside of his race and this fact causes undue scorn to be thrown at his feet. it’s unheard of for almost any dwarf, let alone one from the line of durin, to do such a thing. this does not deter him - it empowers him; if his heart could go against the traditions forged into his bones, molten in his hot blood, how could it not be true? the strength of his love is what helps him ignore the doubts shouted by the prejudice plaguing those who know nothing of his heart. that, and the sound of your laughter at his antics, the soft smiles only given to him when he’s being a little too charming… he could go on.

bilbo: like real people do

as much flack as bilbo gets from the company for not being conventionally tough, he’s not weak by any means. he’s familiar with the pain of loss, and how the ways one tries to rise above the grief that follows aren’t always savory. he knows there’s a respect to be found in the absence of prying questions, choosing simply to coexist in the feelings and allow answers to come in their own sweet time. he’ll put some tea on to cook and scrounge up some leftovers from the previous meal, sitting beside you and letting the comfort flow naturally, his soft lips soothing the most tender aches.

dwalin: work song

just looking at him, you wouldn’t think dwalin a sap. but with his insanely strong sense of loyalty and stalwart dedication, he can’t be anything but. he’s faced down innumerable evils in his time, braved the fiercest of storms that many of his comrades didn’t; none of them even come close to keeping him from you. your arms welcome him home without question after each fight he braves, and your letters tucked into secret compartments in his armor keep him warm between embraces. he’ll read them by the fire every night when he’s away, every gentle word carrying his mind away from thoughts of the day’s turmoil.

thorin: sedated

this sweet, sad man doesn’t think he deserves good things in life. this, unfortunately, includes having someone love him despite his flaws and past mistakes. he couldn’t resist admitting his feelings for you and was ridiculously shocked that you reciprocated & allowed him to love you. on nights when he feels his failures deeper, he’ll try to convince you that he doesn’t deserve you. vitriol will escape from worried lips and terrified heart, piercing you in the way only a lover knows how. a soft kiss, gentle words, and a few strokes through his hair will soothe these wounds from him for a time and allow him some of the peace he’s fought to find, but doesn’t always believe is earned.

nori: it will come back

it was decades since the last time nori thought of love, even longer since he believed himself worthy of it. meeting you only solidified his disbelief; how could someone look at him and see someone that deserved such a pure thing, after everything he’s done in his life? he’s stolen, lied, cheated, and killed to survive (and sometimes not for mere survival). his attempts to spurn you away from him only increased your determination to break through the fortress he built around himself. he could only be strong against your advances for so long before he crumbled, reluctantly accepting the love and peace and safety you offered so freely.

bofur: nobody

bofur’s done a lot in his time. he was born in the blue mountains, a colony that never seemed to find the prosperity needed to do more than simply survive. he is a brother, uncle, cousin, friend, toymaker, miner, member of the great company that reclaimed erebor. but through all his adventures and hardships, he never lost his playful streak. he wants to have fun with who he loves, wants a little bit of mischief to make his laugh louder and brighter. bofur is a fun-loving soul who, despite his wandering past, will always choose you over anywhere that you’re not.

ori: francesca

ori’s life has never been a peaceful one. being raised by dori and being followed by the whispers of his late amad’s reputation (not to mention nori’s) without a mountain to call home, it weighed on his shoulders. even his craft, the pride of every dwarrow worth their beard, happened to be one seen as miniscule in importance compared to smithing. every moment spent with his one, doing anything or nothing at all, eases the burden he carries and makes every moment of strife worth it just to be with the soul made to mirror his.

fíli: i, carrion (icarian)

your love for him seems almost too good to be true, the remnants of stories told in dusty tomes written by those with far more eloquence than he can claim to possess. that being said, he is definitely not one to look a gift boar in the mouth. he relishes in each tender moment, every second spent in your presence that carries him far beyond the constraints life has placed upon him. but he recognizes that life isn’t always so simple, retreating into your arms and wishing that everything around you both just disappears. there’s always reality, waiting patiently outside of your chambers for one faulty misstep to throw you both askew. that’s why he dedicates himself to showing you that if life does what it does best and deals harsh blows, he will be there for you through it all.

dori: shrike

dori never had time for love; he had two brothers to protect, one more wily than the other was young. his focus was on getting his brothers through the days, putting food on their plates and the semi-frequently used stash of bail money well-stocked. he allowed his feelings for his one to fall to the wayside in the name of preservation. he ignored their call for decades and braved out the pain that came with such a silence. he begged for his one’s forgiveness every time they called for him. but once the mountain was reclaimed and his brothers safe, he yearned for what he could have had. he would approach his one with much regret and sorrow for the time lost, but a pure hope that they could find forgiveness in their heart for him.

tauriel: unknown/nth

to earn her love is a feat unlike that which the world has known for a long time. being seen as worth all these mortal struggles and painful toils in the eyes of an elf, let alone one as fierce as tauriel, is quite the achievement to anyone outside looking in. to the red-haired warrior in question, though, giving her love to you has the same unthinking ease as breathing; it’s beyond instinct to do and just as necessary to her survival. you’re worth every century spent alone, every moment after knowing you spent away from you.

#bilbo baggins x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #dwalin x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #nori x reader #ori x reader #dori x reader #tauriel x reader #bofur x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit reader insert #fíli x reader #kíli x reader #fili imagine #kili imagine #thorin oakenshield imagine #bilbo baggins imagine #dwalin imagine #bofur imagine #nori imagine #ori imagine #tolkienverse fic #tolkienverse imagine #the hobbit headcanons #the hobbit hc #the hobbit x reader

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

akio and the coffin

it’s fascinating how akio both literally IS the coffin of ohtori academy and, simultaneously, is trapped by it. ohtori academy is in many ways a manifestation of the ugly side of adolescence, of clinging on to something in your past and refusing to move forward in your life. every character has something they continue to hold on to despite the fact that they ought to let it go for the sake of growing and maturing. for example, saionji has his inferiority complex regarding touga, his refusal to let go of the simplicity of their childhood together when he felt that they stood on the same ground, and that touga saw him as an equal. everything he does in the series is an attempt to make himself feel as though he is finally on equal grounds with touga. if he would only stop tying his self-image to the perception that touga is somehow above him, that touga looks down on him, then he would be able to let go of that sense of inferiority and move on. but he can’t. juri refuses to let go of the pain she feels regarding her past with shiori, and continues to see shiori as someone who is “innocent”, albeit cruelly - someone who is unknowing of the pain she causes juri through her actions when in fact, shiori in seducing the boy she thought juri loved was deliberately acting to hurt her. if juri would only realize and accept the true intentions behind shiori’s behavior, then she could get one step closer to understanding shiori, to being understood by her, and moving past the pain of shiori’s betrayal. but she can’t. 

most of the characters, except utena and anthy of course, remain in ohtori by the end of the show. while they’ve all made progress in “maturing” thanks to the events they experienced throughout the series - both saionji and touga’s as well as juri and shiori’s relationships have gotten visibly better, as shown in the final medley of scenes - they still have more growing to do, hence why they remain in ohtori academy until their time comes. one day, the show suggests, they might also revolutionize their own worlds - their own selves - and finally leave the coffin of ohtori behind as well. 

so where does that leave akio? i think he can be said to literally be the coffin of ohtori in that he is explicitly shown to try to manipulate others into remaining stagnant, to clinging on to whatever toxic things they are struggling to process and come to terms with, though this is of course only shown via the characters he most directly interacts with. naturally it comes across most clearly with anthy, although i think utena and to a less direct extent, touga, are the other two people who are the most straightforwardly influenced by him. when it comes to anthy, she clings to her love for the person her brother used to be, the older brother who, at least as she perceived, was kind and caring and wanted to protect people. to protect that older brother, she willingly took on the hatred of the world, and continues to endure the pain of it to this day for what is implied to be centuries. but akio has shown time and time again, through the repeating dueling cycles, that if he was ever kindhearted and genuinely caring, those parts of him are gone now. i do believe he cares about anthy to an extent even now, but whatever affection he has for her is paltry in comparison to his desire to reclaim his power as prince dios. it’s for that purpose that he set up the entire dueling system, for which he freely allows duelists to treat anthy like a prize and an object. and additionally, because anthy is so integral to the power he has now in ohtori, he uses emotional, psychological, physical, and sexual abuse to keep her tied to him. he’s willing to not just let her wellbeing come last, but puts it at the bottom of the list of priorities, and actively tears it down himself for his own benefit. anthy knows all this - but because she still holds onto that love that she had for who he used to be, she stays with him and does his bidding. and that’s what akio wants. he is the coffin, wishing to keep people in their states of despair, conflict, and pain, therefore ensuring that they are compliant and vulnerable to his manipulation. 

at the same time, akio is trapped by the coffin like everyone else. he, like all the other characters, has something that he ought to move on from for his own sake as well as the sake of the people around him: his goal to reclaim his powers as prince dios. akio has failed in this goal every single dueling cycle that happened before the show’s events, and as displayed in the final episode, he definitively fails the one that takes place during the show as well. he can attempt the cycle over and over and over again, redo and tweak and modify the dueling system however many times and in whatever ways he wants - it’s all useless. there is no sword that can break open the rose gate. there is no way to reclaim his powers. they’re gone, that part of his life is over, and if he accepted that fact, it would allow him to move on and heal from what he experienced. but he can’t. at the very end of the series, right before anthy leaves ohtori for good, he’s typing away just as diligently as he ever did and, completely oblivious, tells anthy that he’s rewriting the rules of the rose crest, that he’ll be counting on her again. and i didn’t pick up on this until rewatching the episode, but it really just hits you then how utterly stupid he looks, working so hard and speaking so confidently about the upcoming dueling cycles as if any of them are ever going to matter in the slightest. i love anthy’s response to him too; i love the subtle but at the same time so blatant scorn in her words: “you really don’t know what’s happened, do you?” because once again, throughout all this, akio has learned nothing. he hasn’t realized it’s useless, what he’s trying to do; he hasn’t realized all the effort and pain and anguish he’ll cause in people for yet another dueling cycle will never make any difference. he is unable to come to terms with the reality that he will never have his powers as prince dios back. he refuses to move on. 

akio is the coffin of ohtori, wanting to keep others in stagnation and regret. he’s also trapped by the coffin, incapable of maturing past his own stagnation and regret. and it really, really says something that all of the other major characters of the show, who have been in ohtori for far shorter a time than he has, have been able to make visible strides in their growth. anthy, who is the only one comparable to akio in terms of duration at ohtori, revolutionizes her world and leaves. meanwhile akio, as deluded and self-unaware as he is, hasn’t made a single step of progress in all this time. the only thing he does is call in bewildered desperation after anthy as she finally leaves him behind, still totally clueless as to what has happened. 

tldr; i once saw an author say one of her characters represents inertia, in fact he is inertia. i think that’s a spot-on explanation of akio, at least in terms of what he symbolizes in the story. i want to beat him in the dick with a cactus

#revolutionary girl utena #rgu meta #shoujo kakumei utena #saito chiho #chiho saito #ikuhara kunihiko #kunihiko ikuhara #akio ohtori #ohtori akio #akio rgu #rgu akio #anthy himemiya #himemiya anthy #anthy rgu #rgu anthy #touga kiryuu #kiryuu touga #touga rgu #rgu touga #kyouichi saionji #saionji kyouichi #saionji rgu #rgu saionji #juri arisugawa #arisugawa juri #shiori takatsuki #takatsuki shiori #juri rgu #rgu juri #utena

[thomas--bombadil]

Far from the Midwest, deep within a European forest, lies an unassuming pond. It was made in an instant, long ago, by a V2 rocket, chain bomb or cluster bomb.

Nature reclaimed it and made it her own. Now, it is a place of peace and beauty.

How many of these types of ponds exist?

How many more of these ponds are being made in Europe every day; again?

#Europe #Poland #nature photography #landscape photography #V2 Rocket #V2 #polska #Eastern Europe #polen #war #War #wojna #slava ukraini #original photography #original photographers #poland #chain bomb

[tsaomengde]

The Ones Who Found The City

Ursula K. LeGuin's "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas" is a classic short story, and obviously I knew of it, but I'd never actually read it until recently. Well, I finally got around to it, and as many timeless classics do, it got stuck in my brain. This story is my - response? homage? sequel? pale imitation? - to it. I suggest you go and read "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas" if you haven't. Not because it's actually required reading for this story - I think it stands on its own more or less okay - but because it is a classic for a reason.

---

Initially, no one is quite certain of what they’ve found when the Animus breaches the next manifold layer.  This is in and of itself expected, of course.  Exploring psychspace is by its very nature an unpredictable venture.  Each of the various infinite layers is unique and bizarre in its own way, reflecting the archetypal underpinnings of an entire species present, past, or future across an infinitude of possible realities.  The crew of the Animus, therefore, has seen things so utterly alien and inexplicable that only the rigors of their training and the care put into their psychic warding saved them from insanity.

It is somewhat disappointing, then, to find that this sub-domain is just a city.  Definitely not Terranic, certainly not, but still following the Terranic modality, with no more than a seven-degree quantum drift.

“Towers,” Thromby says into the recorder as they sit at their post at the nose of the Animus’s command center.  “Following the standard skyscrape pattern.  Unclear if they’re domiciles or business centers or both.  Coastal city, bay appears to be oceanic rather than lake.  Pleasing blend of urbanization with natural setting.”  They glance at Vigil.  “Anything on the lifescope?”

Vigil shakes his head.  “Nothing.  It’s empty.  Totally empty.”

“That’s odd,” Katrina speaks up from the helm.  “The city doesn’t show signs of decay or reclamation by nature.”

“Entropy may not work in the usual way in this sub-domain,” Teasha reminds her.  “The city itself could be the natural growth, reclaiming the artificial countryside.  We’ve seen things like that before.”

Thromby feels Katrina’s unconscious bristling at the subtle reminder that she is the newest member of the crew and thus less experienced in the vagaries of psychspace than everyone else.  Next to Vigil, who is only nineteen, she is also the youngest.  “I would expect,” Katrina says, her voice cool, “that in a sub-domain so obviously based on human archetypes, entropy and nature-versus-civilization tropes would function more or less as usual.”

“I’m certain you would,” Teasha replies, her voice equally cool.  “When you’ve been at this as long as me and Thromby, you’ll learn better.”

“Enough of that,” Thromby says before Katrina can reply.  They love Teasha, but she tends to be too harsh on new crewmembers.  A defense mechanism, they know, to insulate her from the all-too-common pain of losing them.  But Katrina has too much to prove.  The clash is natural and to be expected, and even useful at times, but now is not one of them.  “Vigil, get me readings on atmosphere, microbiome, and psychic radiation, if any.  Katrina, pick a spot on the coast and bring us down there.  I want to see if the ocean is actually an ocean or a liminality representation.  Teasha, get the Animus tuning to this sub-domain’s resonance frequency.  I don’t want any dissociation issues.”

The orders are mostly unnecessary, since everyone already knows what they’re about, but they serve their intended purpose, which is to re-focus everyone on the task at hand and redirect their nervous energies, particularly Katrina’s.  Thromby still isn’t sure she’s going to make the cut after this expedition is over, but there’s potential there.  They would be foolish to ignore someone with Katrina’s strength of identity grounding. 

There are plenty of sub-domains out there where it’s useful to be entirely certain of who you are, and not everyone can be.

---

The first day’s worth of exploration yields more questions than answers, which is normal and expected.  Thromby is indeed certain that Katrina’s initial assumption that this is a human-archetypal sub-domain is correct.  Human atmosphere, human shadow- and ontological concepts, Terranic fish in the very-real ocean.  But the iconography is sparse and mostly nonsensical.  It’s clear that the city was able to actually function as a city, but it feels purposeful, designed, in a way that actual cities outside psychspace rarely do.

“It’s a metaphor,” Vigil says as they sit around a campfire on the beach after the first day.

“Well, obviously,” Katrina agrees, and Vigil lights up – both visibly and psychically – at her concordance.  Thromby knows Vigil has been nursing burgeoning feelings for Katrina since she joined them, and has so far seen no need to make anything of it.  “But a metaphor for what?”

“We don’t have enough data,” Vigil replies.  “But I’m certain of it.  We just need to keep exploring.”

Thromby takes a bite of the fish they’ve been roasting over the fire.  It’s a pleasant change of pace to be able to eat something real, instead of the platonic nourishment suggestions dispensed by the Animus.  “Agreed.  I’m curious to see what the point of this place was.  We have five more days before we have to resurface and the expedition has been quite successful already.  I think we can spare the time.  Teasha?”

Taking a bite of her own fish, Teasha purses her lips as she chews.  “I concur, but I’m uneasy.”

Teasha is their psychometry specialist, so this makes all of them sit up a little straighter.  “Are we in danger?” Katrina asks.

“Of course we’re in danger, we’re in psychspace.  But in this particular sub-domain?  Metaphorical danger, as Vigil says.  Ideological or memetic patterning rather than physical.”

Thromby nods.  “I suspected that might be the axis of it, here.  We will need to split up to cover the necessary ground in the time we have left, so everyone stays in contact while exploring.  Mechanical and psychic.  No exceptions.”

None of them are particularly happy with this pronouncement, but they see the wisdom of it.  It’s distracting and somewhat draining to keep a four-way psychic connection going, especially over distance, but their implanted transceivers sometimes don’t function properly, depending on the sub-domain.  Electromagnetism and causality both seem to be standard here, but such things have been known to change in an instant depending on whether the sub-domain is actively malicious or not.

Thromby doesn’t feel any such malice here, though.  That doesn’t mean it isn’t present; such things are often quite good at hiding themselves.  But they’ve been exploring psychspace for seventy-eight years subjective.  They’ve learned to trust their instincts.

---

Two more days of exploration are frustratingly unrevealing.  The city is the size of a proper metropolis, and they know it will be impossible to actually explore any significant percentage of it in only a few days, but Thromby is still irritated by their lack of progress.  They find evidence of cultural signifiers, rituals, and traditions, but again, the iconography is vague and appears opaque to standard Jungian-Jingweian analysis.

Teasha spends the two days on a different investigative track than the rest of them.  “Psychometrically speaking the city is remarkably healthy,” she said on the morning of their second day.  “Most locations, metaphorical or otherwise, bear the echoes of trauma or strife, but this place seems to have been almost entirely peaceful.  Totally voluntary anarcho-communism or ordnung-socialism, perhaps, without the usual markers of systemic violence inherent to capitalistic or fascistic systems.  But there’s a thread somewhere that I keep detecting the edges of.”

“A thread of what?” Thromby asked.

“Pain, of course.”

It is on the evening of their third day in the city that Teasha calls them to her.  She uses their transceiver link rather than a psychic summons.  “To avoid contamination,” she explains.  “I’ve found the source of the thread.  Double your usual wardings and enter seclusive patterning before you come inside.”

Thromby does so, of course, though they dislike cutting themselves off from their extrasensory perception.  It feels like trying to see with only one eye.  When they arrive at Teasha’s location, however, they immediately understand why she insisted on it.  The possibility of psychic contamination here is very high.

“What is this?” Katrina asks, holding her nose in disgust.

“The point of the metaphor, of course,” Teasha replies.  She indicates the filthy cellar in which they’ve found themselves, the only part of the city so far that has seemed actively decrepit.  “I guarantee you that even if we spent the rest of our lives exploring this city we would find only this one place showing any signs of entropy.”

The cellar stinks of excrement, a combination of ammonia and fetid shit, despite the physical processes creating such smells having terminated long ago.  The floor is dirt.  There are no windows.  In one corner there are two mops, their heads stiff with drying waste, and a bucket, the metal bands around its circumference orange with rust.

“They concentrated all of the city’s entropy into a single space?” Vigil asks.

“Not entropy,” Teasha tells him.  “Cruelty.”

Katrina gapes, her hand falling away from her nose for a moment.  “Come again?”

“Something lived here,” Teasha explains to her.  “Or, more precisely, was forced to live here.  It functioned as a psychic magnet, of sorts.  The functioning of the city relied entirely upon its imprisonment and use as a scapegoat.”

“What was it?” Vigil asks.

“One of the innocence-sacrifice archetypes.  An animal or a child.  I suspect a child; an animal can feel pain and misery, certainly, but it doesn’t conceive of injustice in the same way a child does.”

Thromby feels their stomach turn a little.  “Ah.  I see.”

“See what?” Katrina demands.

“The point of the metaphor indeed,” Thromby replies.  “This entire city and all its inhabitants, predicated on the suffering on a child.  It’s a morality construct, and a good one, too.”

“A good one?” Vigil asks.  “It’s grotesque.”

“Your deontological leanings are showing,” Katrina tells him.  “From a utilitarian perspective it’s perfect.  Nothing exists without imposing an energy burden on the system in which it exists.  Even the nourishment suggestions the Animus feeds us in liminal space between manifolds is distilled from universal krill.  But this?  The concentration of all of a society’s utility burden onto a single individual.  The ultimate maximization principle.”

“And your teleological leanings are showing,” Teasha sniffs.  “You’re missing the point of the metaphor entirely, Katrina.  It isn’t about utility.  It’s about cruelty.  The cruelty is the point.”

Katrina’s nostrils flare and Thromby cuts in before she can start really arguing.  “Enough,” they say.  “A conflict here in this space could be dangerous.  We’re at the focus of the sub-domain and things have a way of rippling.  We’ve discovered the point of the metaphor, so we can go back to the Animus and leave in the morning.”

Both Katrina and Teasha look ready to argue the point with them, but then they master themselves and both nod.

“Do we have to wait until morning?” Vigil asks, looking around the cellar in transparent disgust.  “I would prefer to leave sooner rather than later.”

“You know the rules,” Thromby replies.  “We don’t transit without everyone being rested.  A tired mind is a vulnerable mind.”

Reluctantly, Vigil nods, too.  The four of them walk away from the cellar, their thoughts opaque to one another.

---

Thromby is jolted out of sleep by Teasha screaming.

They sit bolt upright and look down at Teasha in the bed next to them.  She is clutching at her head, shaking, writhing beneath the sheets.  “Teasha!” Thromby snaps.  “Focus!  Center yourself!”  They grab her by the wrists and pry her hands from her face; her nails are leaving bloody marks in her skin.

“Too much, it’s too much!” she shrieks.  “I’m lost!”

Thromby forces their way into her mind.  She previously gave them her consent for this, knowing that it might be necessary in a moment like this one.  What they see there –

“Aquinas,” they say aloud.  The implants in Teasha’s cochlear nerves pick up on the trigger word and activate, sending the kill-signal to other implants deeper within her brain.  She stops screaming and slumps, unconscious, temporarily brain-dead.  When Thromby says the word again she will be switched back on, but for the moment she is safe from the psychic contamination that was attacking her along her psychometric vector.

Which, of course, means that Thromby has to deal with this issue alone.

They dress quickly and exit the Animus into a beautiful summer day.  Pennants and banners wave atop the rigging of ships in the harbor, bells sound from the city, and people, so many people, cavort and revel on the beach, in the waves, in the streets.  There is laughter, merriment, the intoxicating psychic swell of happiness and excitement.  Thromby threads their way through the crowds in the streets – mothers carrying their infants, children running through the streets in elaborate games of some variation of Terran tag, huge parades of horse-drawn carts with animalistic balloon totems floating in the air above them.  Vendors call out to Thromby, offering delicious food, intricately made jewelry, amazing clockwork-mechanical toys, sensory-enhancing drugs, and a thousand other variegated temptations.  Street musicians play upon cunningly crafted instruments – strings, pipes, percussion, keys – and revelers cavort to the tunes.

Thromby can feel the bright sparks of all of these people in their mind.  These are real, thinking, feeling beings.  They belong to the metaphor, certainly, but Thromby could speak to them, touch them, verify their self-consciousness and interiority, even invite them to come and join them onboard the Animus and explore psychspace.  They could bring them up into the real, return home with them, have a life with them.  That is how it has to be, of course.  Thromby knows they themself may belong to a different metaphor of a different order, after all.  The real is only real because enough people agree it is.

But they do none of these things.  They just walk, stolidly, back to where they know they have to go.

Katrina is waiting for them outside the cellar, barring the way in.  Thromby has their wards up at triple strength and has been in seclusive patterning since before leaving the Animus, but they don’t need to be psychic to read her mind.  Everything she is feeling and thinking is there in plain sight – the proud and defiant way her chin is thrust out, the blaze in her eyes, the way she has her arms crossed and feet at shoulder width.  She is ready to fight.

“Let me through,” Thromby says without preamble.

“No.”

Well, that’s their respective positions, Thromby thinks, articulated clearly and easily enough.  “Why not?” they ask.

“Vigil consented.”

“Vigil is in love with you and you know as well as I do that consent is a matter of framing,” Thromby snaps.  “Move.”

“No.  I explained everything to him and he consented.  It has nothing to do with whatever feelings he might have for me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, but fine.  For the sake of argument, tell me how you explained it.”

Katrina hesitates, and Thromby can tell she wasn’t expecting them to actually offer her a chance to proselytize.  “The point of the metaphor is that no matter how great and beautiful the society, if it’s predicated on cruelty, it’s unjust,” she says.  “Deontological thinking, obviously, but cruelty is by definition nonconsensual.  I explained to Vigil that if he allowed it, we could collaboratively put blocks in his mind, purposefully regress him to a childlike mental state, and put him in the cellar to suffer for a specific length of time.  Then we can pull him back out, remove the blocks, and even erase the memories of the trauma.  The child-Vigil won’t, can’t, consent, but it also won’t exist for more than a day, and pragmatically speaking never will have.”

Thromby massages their temples.  “Congratulations.  Once again, you have missed the point of the metaphor.”

“Damnit, Thromby, I’m not a child!  I have the same training and grounding in theory that you and Teasha do.  Everything I’m doing is teleologically sound, and Vigil agreed that with the steps we’re taking –”

“You’re trying to outsmart it,” Thromby cuts her off.  “That’s how I know you’ve missed the point.  You can’t outsmart this, Katrina.  There is no perfect set of circumstances you can construct to get around the simple fact that this city functions, exists, because of deliberate and terrible cruelty.  That’s the entire point of it, just like Teasha said.  Teasha, who, by the way, is currently in a coma.  I had to put her into it to keep Vigil’s misery from damaging her.”

“It’s a thought experiment,” she argues, obviously not addressing the point about Teasha because she knows she won’t win that argument.  “There’s always a correct answer for them.  The trolley, the Gettier, the –”

“It’s about fucking sin,” Thromby sighs.

“Are you joking right now?  You’re going back to the religious well?”

“Yes, because that’s what’s happening right now.  The city is a sin, Katrina.  The excesses of its beauty, its wonder, its perfection, are obscene precisely because of how and why they function.  It’s rooted in the ideology of disgust and taint.  Utility, teleology, all of these justifications and rationalizations exist and have their use, but at the end of the day, answer me one question: will you trade places with Vigil?”

Katrina hesitates.

It’s only a bare moment, less than a second, even, but it’s there.  And Thromby sees it, and Katrina sees it.

“Yes,” she says, finally.

“I knew that would be your answer.  But you know that the answer doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Katrina lowers her head.  “No.”

“You know why you hesitated.”

“Yes.”  She looks back up at them.  “But – there’s no such thing as absolute morality, any more than there’s a single objective reality.”

“Of course there isn’t.  And yet, you hesitated.”

They just lock eyes for a few seconds.  Then she lowers her gaze again.  “And yet, I did.”

Thromby steps past her and opens the cellar.

#writing #my writing #story #short story #short stories #creative writing #omelas #the ones who walk away from omelas #ursula k leguin #leguin #science fiction #sci fi #sci-fi

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage December 2023 Issue ft. Yuzuki Hirakawa Interview (translation below)

Publication: November 10, 2023 (between episodes 35-36)

"Remain Immovable"

Rita Kaniska, who rules the absolutely neutral country of Gokkan, is both the king and chief judge who passes down judgment on international criminals.

"The Law is the spear that pierces kings. The Law is the shield that protects man. For this reason, Gokkan will remain immovable."

Rita never wavers in their convictions at any time, and judges fairly according to the law.

However, just like anyone else, Rita also has a heart. They get angry at those who resell goods based on their beloved animated character "Moffun," and when their emotions get out of control, they scream in public.

When they tried to seal Grodie with the "Ice Seal," a secret sacrificial technique that's possessed within their right eye, they felt the fear of death. Still, Rita's strength lies in their determination to remain neutral and immovable as the king of Gokkan.

It must have been a positive thing for Rita to have friends who understood their way of living, were concerned about them, and tried to help them.

The current mission of the Royal Sentai, is to reclaim the countries of Chikyu that have been conquered by the Uchu Five Jesters. Goma, who rules Gokkan, is a difficult opponent, once messing around with the kings using a technique that switches bodies. What awaits Rita in the upcoming battle to reclaim Gokkan?

-I want to make use of the sword fighting skills I learned from Hachisuka-san-

"As the story progressed, the number of kings working together increased, but is there anything you're conscious of when expressing these relationships?"

Hirakawa: Basically, I try not to put my personal feelings into it, but after starting the second chapter, I feel like we're closer than ever. I'm not sure if a part of them that unconsciously feels at ease has emerged. However, I think Rita doesn't just think of them as their friends, rather, they're comrades that help protect Chikyu. When it comes to Hymeno, who is the closest to them, rather than being conscious of how I interact with her, I treat her naturally as Rita, reacting timidly to Hymeno's aggressive advances.

"We found it interesting that when they switched bodies with Yanma in episode 28, unlike the other kings, they didn't seem to become closer."

Hirakawa: Everyone else had good interactions, but we were in an interesting frame of, "Huh, what are we doing?" (laughs). In that episode, I also discussed with Director Kamihoriuchi Kazuya that among the kings, Yanma would probably enjoy being swapped the most, and that the most important thing was to enjoy the chaos of the situation. Also, I thought that if I went too hard in my approach, it would be too rough, or that it would come off as lame, so I decided to just do it naturally. The Director told me things like, "You don't have to try doing it like Yanma," so I felt like I played much more as myself

"Have you heard any feedback from Watanabe Aoto-san, who plays Yanma?"

Hirakawa: When we met up, he said, "It was alot of fun!" and "It was cool." But, Aoto's Rita was way too much (laughs). I don't really roll my eyes or cross my eyes or anything like that. "I" did that because I reached a state of maximum irritation due to the stress of being swapped…..if you think about it, could it be possible? When I saw the final cut and realized how he performed, I was surprised and asked myself, "I've been doing this?"

"What do you take into consideration when interacting with Morfonia, your retainer?"

Hirakawa: I try to be as "flat" as possible without being too overwhelming. Like in the kabedon scene in episode 25, when they want to convey their thoughts, I'm always conscious of conveying them clearly, even if it's in their own awkward way. No matter what Rita and Morfonia say to each other, they'll never leave each other, as they know that their relationship won't change, so I feel like they're not hesitant about it.

"Have you had any memorable interactions with Yuichi Hachisuka-san, PapillonOhger's Suit Actor?"

Hirakawa: We usually film separately from each other, so I share information with Hachisuka-san whenever we meet. He incorporates what I talk to him about into his actions after the transformation. When we're fighting unmasked, he's always by the camera man's side, giving me friendly and detailed advice. We also have alot of small talk that's unrelated to acting, so I'm very grateful that he's so open and friendly with me.

"In terms of unmasked action, we think that episodes 32 and 33 depicted some pretty intense action scenes."

Hirakawa: That's right. It was the first time in the second chapter that I had to fight unmasked, and there were quite alot of moves. Rita's fighting style is not to attack the enemy themself, but to cut them down as the enemies approach them, so sword fighting skills are important. It's important to have a sense of balance between stopping your movements and applying force, and Hachisuka-san taught me alot not only during action practice, but also on the set. I've always loved to move my body, and even before King-Ohger I participated in a few practice sessions for action scenes and became interested in it. Hachisuka-san taught me the basics of how to hold, swing, and draw out the sword, and I'd like to continue challenging myself even after King-Ohger is over.

-Overflowing emotions between my mission and fear-

"The cast members of King-Ohger are actively engaged on SNS, but we have the impression that Hirakawa-san especially has frequent opportunities to interact with the fans."

Hirakawa: I'm conscious of doing something on SNS every day. I belong to LDH, which is famous as an artist agency, and their artists have many opportunities to directly interact with their supporters at things such as live performances and release events. However, the acting team doesn't have many opportunities like that, so I wanted to create a place to interact with the fans, so I use the Twitter space to talk and stream on Instagram Live. Also, I wanted to give people a chance to get to know me through Rita. I'm glad that the fans enjoy the gap between me and Rita.

"I see. It sounds like you had some deep thoughts and were communicating them."

Hirakawa: Well, I've always liked talking, so when I'm home alone, I sometimes start saying, "I'm kinda bored," or "I'll talk for abit" (laughs). I feel that I've become better at speaking since I've started streaming, and that my thinking is faster than before. Up until now, I haven't had many opportunities to communicate with the fans, so when I read their comments, it was encouraging to realize that there were so many people who supported me.

"Other than Rita, if you had to name your favorite character, who would it be?"

Hirakawa: Since playing him in the body swap episode, I feel attached to Yanma. I've always wanted to play a role with that kind of cool feel and slightly rough tone. Also, I guess I'd say Gira. I think his charm lies in that he's straightforward, honest, and cute, but the anger he shows and the feelings he has for his friends is also appealing. His face is looking more and more like that of a king, and in episode 29, there's even an effect where lights rush from his eyes, which was super cool!

"Please tell us about some of the most memorable episodes so far."

Hirakawa: In episode 30, the secret of Rita's right eye was revealed, and the culprit behind the "Wrath of God" was revealed to be Grodie, which still leaves an impression on me. I didn't know about the secret of their right eye, so I was surprised when I read the script. Grodie is played by Amano Kousei-san, who is a senior at my agency, and he also performed in Kamen Rider (played Sakuya Tachibana/Kamen Rider Garren in Kamen Rider Blade), so I have fond memories of being able to co star with him.

"Shiono Akihisa-san, who plays Souji Rippukan (Kyoryu Green) in episodes 32 and 33, also comes from the same agency."

Hirakawa: Yes. Shortly after being chosen to play Rita, I happened to have the opportunity to meet Shiono-san in another production, where I told him that I would be appearing in Sentai. I was very happy to be able to work together in the collaboration episodes, with Shiono-san encouraging me with, "Do you best."

"Going back to episode 30, we think it was a major turning point from Rita's perspective."

Hirakawa: The relationship with Karras, the previous king, was explored in depth, and Rita's actions towards their mission and determination to protect their people was depicted, which I thought was cool to play. For the scenes where Rita's emotions were overflowing, I wanted to express them in advance, and wanted to express them within the atmosphere of the scene. The scene where Karras collapsed in front of my eyes was so powerful, that I was surprised at how much emotion I felt inside of me and how much it moved me. The scene where they use the "Ice Seal" on Grodie is especially emotional. It's a secret technique that seals away both yourself and your opponent, so using it will lead to Rita's death. Rita is conflicted between their duty as a king to protect their people, and their fear of dying. I played the role imagining those feelings, but since I had never experienced the loss of a loved one, it became so overwhelming, that I couldn't stop crying during filming, and had to be given time to calm down.

"You played the part with a great amount of emotion."

Hirakawa: When I read the script, I often write down what I'm thinking of at that moment, but for the scene where I use the secret technique, I wrote, "I leave the rest to you." Then, when it came time to perform, I imagined everyone's faces…..I thought, "I don't want to die," and "But" and I cried not only as Rita, but also as Yuzuki Hirakawa (laughs). By deciding to protect the lives of their people and the peace of Chikyu more than their own life, Rita was able to grow even more, and when Hymeno stopped them, I feel that they were able to firmly realize that they were not alone.

"Finally, please tell us about some future highlights."

Hirakawa: In episode 36, Rita will do some interesting things in the scenes regarding Hymeno's marriage matchmaking, but I think episode 38 will be the main highlight for Rita. Filming is about to begin (at the time of this interview), so I know I have to do my best......I really hope everyone will look forward to it (laughs). _

Question to Kaku So-san! (Kaguragi Dybowski's Actor)

Kaguragi often goes to different places alone, like infiltrating other places, without anyone noticing. I'm curious to know how he manages to stay out of everyone's sight with such a large body. I also want to know how he takes care of his long hair. If you look closely, Kaguragi's hair is quite smooth. It's actually a wig, but I'd like to hear Kaku-san's interpretation of how Kaguragi takes care of his smooth hair. (-Hirakawa)

Questions from Murakami Erica-san! (Hymeno Ran's Actor)

Q: What kind of food does Rita like? If you were to make a Gokkan coat for Hymeno, what would you propose?

I have a feeling that Rita likes sweet things. I personally like wagashi, so I think they'd appreciate that (laughs). A coat that's a dress with her legs showing would look cold, so it should be like a poncho and worn over the top. I think a long coat with a hood would be nice. A fluffy white ball (snowman) coat, or a kamikiri (mantis) coat! (-Hirakawa)

#yuzuyan... #ohsama sentai kingohger #kingohger #super sentai #rita kaniska #rita kanisuka #toku cast #kingohger cast #yuzuki hirakawa #hirakawa yuzuki #my scans #my translation #tokusatsu #animage #purple #ohsama sentai king ohger #king ohger #hymeno ran #kaguragi dybowski #moffun #so immovable their pose barely changes #kaguragi will be next it seems #finally...we get to learn his hair care routine 😳🗒️

[writingduhh]

Heeyyyy could u pretty pls do a fic about Schlatt with a gf who manspreads like they’ll be sitting kinda close in like the car or a booth or something and they have like a mini battle for dominance over the leg room (p.s this is my first ask so sry if it doesn’t make sense)

Hello! Your ask made perfect sense do not sorry! I love the originality :)

Hope this is what you were looking for <3

Jschlatt || Leg Room

In the cramped booth of their favorite diner, Schlatt and y/n found themselves engaged in yet another of their playful yet stubborn battles. This time, it wasn't about who could eat the spiciest burger or who had the best poker face while making ridiculous bets. No, this battle was much more personal—it was the war over leg room.

Schlatt, with his typically relaxed demeanor, stretched his legs out under the table after settling into the booth. Y/n, ever the spirited counterpart, immediately challenged his territorial claim by extending her own legs, casually encroaching on his space. Y/n shot him a cheeky grin, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Really?" Schlatt raised an eyebrow, half-amused and half-provocative. "We're doing this now?"

"Always," Y/n replied, a mischievous tilt to her lips. Y/ns foot nudged against his with a playful assertiveness. It was a familiar dance for them, this gentle jockeying for space, each push and nudge a silent conversation layered with affection and a shared history of similar skirmishes.

As their knees brushed under the table, neither was willing to give an inch. Schlatt attempted a strategic maneuver, trying to reclaim territory by shifting his legs slightly to the left, but y/n countered immediately, movement fluid and assertive.

"Careful, I might just have to start playing dirty," Schlatt warned, his voice low and teasing. In response, y/n laughed, the sound bright and clear, resonating above the soft murmur of the diner.

"Promises, promises," y/n taunted back, tone light and airy. The challenge seemed to invigorate her , and she doubled down, pressing her leg more firmly against his.

As they continued their playful battle, the waitress approached, a knowing smile on her face as she slid plates of their usual orders in front of them. "You two always seem to be having the most fun," she commented, shaking her head with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

Schlatt and y/n glanced at each other, their eyes alight with shared joy. With a mutual, unspoken agreement, they both relaxed their legs at the same time, settling into a more comfortable, albeit slightly less competitive, position. Their hands found each other on top of the table, fingers intertwining naturally.

"You know," Schlatt started, giving y/ns hand a gentle squeeze, "I think I win this time."

"Oh, really?" Y/b raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with playful skepticism. "Because I feel pretty victorious right now."

With a soft chuckle, Schlatt leaned closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur only y/n could hear. "Yeah, but see, I got you to hold my hand, didn't I? I'd say that's a win in my book."

Blushing slightly, she squeezed his hand back, her smile soft and loving. "Alright, you got me there," she admitted, her heart swelling with affection.

As they began to eat, their playful spirits subdued by the delicious food, they continued to share glances and small touches, the battle for leg room forgotten.

#chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt hcs #hc #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt imagines #jschaltt #jschlatt imagine #schlatt hcs #schlatt x you #schlatt imagine #schlatt x reader #schlatt #ted nivison