#not so sure i could justify him being that prominent even if he did play a major part in david’s reveal

[thefandomenchantress]

So I know I’m a little late to the party on this one, but I wanna talk about the David MV.

I finally decided to watch that nearly three hour video on the Literature Girl Insane MV, (by @/1moreff-creator) and HOLY SHIT IT’S SO GOOD. I wish I watched it sooner and wonder why I didn’t, I watch almost exclusively 1+ hour videos about random topics I know nothing about, and now there’s one for something I care a lot about! Why didn’t I watch immediately?!?

But my lapse in sanity aside, it finally got me motivated enough to talk about the David MV!

…Except only the part about Ace because of course that’s all I want to talk about. 9 out of 10 of my posts are either about him or have him involved somehow.

Anyways! Here’s the part I find very interesting!

This is arguably where Ace is most relevant, and therefore it makes sense I want to talk about it today.

Now, first things first, the Roman numeral. V (five) is Ace’s Roman numeral, as assigned by the crossword. The line attached is:

“Right now, why do you go insane?”

Which definitely fits. Ace could easily be framed as going insane, because he has mental breakdowns at a worryingly high frequency. Him and Veronika (who this might also be referring to if color theory is to be believed) are basically assigned the role of being seen as mentally unhinged within the class.

(…Ever think about how weird it is that the title is Literature Girl Insane, implying the star of the MV, David, is going insane, yet Ace is the one getting called insane, possibly by David? I think that’s interesting. But let’s get back on track.)

As established by other Roman numerals, the words in the background when a numeral shows itself also apply the character attached to said numeral. This is most obviously shown in the line near the top of the photo.

“A cat has 9 additional lives”

This is also easily applicable to Ace, since he survived Nico’s murder attempt against all odds. If Eden and Teruko hadn’t just so happened to be on the 2nd floor and walked into the gym when they did, he would’ve died. While the actual methodology of Nico’s murder attempt is unknown, it’s also possible that him even surviving long enough for Teruko and Eden to find them was a miracle. Either way, it fits.

The last quote on-screen intrigues me the most. It’s a quote from Hamlet.

“I am but mad north-northwest. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a hand saw.”

Now, first let’s look at just those words, without further context. It’s important we know what the words themselves mean before we do anything else. Let’s start with the definition of north-northwest, since that word is pretty important to the quote.

I’m sure most are familiar with north, east, south, and west. The four main directions on a compass. As well as Northeast, Southeast, Southwest, and Northwest. That splits the compass into eight directions, splitting the sections of north, east, south, and west in half.

Similarly, north-northwest is a direction that comes from splitting the compass into sixteen parts. It’s the half of the northwest section that’s closer to north.

Next, what the hell does “I know a hawk from a handsaw” mean? It’s almost half the quote, so it’s important we know.

Well…*extremely loud sigh* Shakespeare, as you know, was alive a very long time ago. As such, he writes in old-time-y English that’s hard to understand. And this quote has the misfortune of being something people argue over the translation of, at least as far as I could tell while researching.

Some people think Shakespeare meant a heronsaw, a type of bird, not a handsaw. Others think that no, he meant handsaw, but heron, in his time period, was also a common word for a tool that holds plaster/mortar/etc..

Either way, Shakespeare was probably referring to two types of birds, or two types of tools, which have key differences from one and other. I don’t think which one the DRDTdev thought was right really matters in this instance, since the quote makes sense either way. 15/16s of the time, Hamlet (the speaker of the quote) is sane and can tell two birds/tools apart.

The quote is, in summary, saying that Hamlet is mad only when it’s north-northwest, aka 1/16th of the time (I’m not sure if that somehow connects to there being 16 participants in the killing game, but I’m going to assume it doesn’t). The other 15/16s of the time, Hamlet is perfectly sane, thank you very much.

So, without context, this quote is saying that Ace is only insane 1/16th of the time. The rest of the time he’s sane.

Next, I think another important thing we have to do is take into account the whole screenshot as a whole. By that I mean we should not only look at each line individually, but how they relate to each other. In bold is the “why do you go insane?” Line, and to the left, in a font that blends more into the background, is the Hamlet line.

There is a contradiction of opinions here. One person says, “Why do you go insane?” while the other insists they’re only a little bit insane.

This could be referring to the opinions of David and Ace. After all, one could argue it was David underestimating Ace that led to his secret being revealed. David doesn’t bother being careful around Ace in the trial, despite Ace’s volatile nature. He piles suspicion onto Ace by saying it’s weird he didn’t see him on the second floor the night before the murder, even though it isn’t. After all:

Ace was in the gym. David was in the relaxation room. Those are on opposite sides of the floor, so of course David wouldn’t have seen Ace. He didn’t even have to walk anywhere close to the room Ace was in. But David saying this information like it’s weird and suspicious makes everyone else think it is.

David thinks: But what’s Ace gonna do about it? Somehow get the whole class on his side, even though almost everyone likes me more? Is everyone really going to trust the mentally unstable (one could say insane), dumb, cowardly jockey over me?

Yes, yes they will.

All this is to say, David, in the grand scheme of things, doesn’t really care about Ace throughout chapter two. He steals Nico’s secret from him, antagonizes him in the trial, and doesn’t care. Ace doesn’t matter. Ace, of all people, can’t be the one to ruin him. So who cares if Ace dislikes him? Ace is of no use to David, and Ace certainly isn’t smart enough to figure out David’s scheme. This is what David believes.

However, this leads to him not taking Ace’s volatile nature seriously enough, believing he is above the harm of someone like him. But hey, even a pawn can play a vital part in checkmating a king.

When David pisses off Ace, believing Ace can’t do anything besides get angry, yell, and make himself look more suspicious…That turns out to be a crucial mistake that ruins everything.

…Y’know, the irony of the class idiot being the one to beat the so-called master manipulator will never not be funny to me.

Anyways, we can sort of apply this to Hamlet, too. If Ace is Hamlet, since this is Hamlet’s line, and David is Claudius, his father-in-law, we do have a pretty good parallel.

Claudius, who secretly killed Hamlet’s father and then took his throne, is secretly not as righteous as he seems. However, Hamlet finds out about Claudius being the one who killed his father and seeks revenge. Claudius thinks Hamlet to be mad, but when Claudius isn’t around, Hamlet says, “But my uncle-father (Claudius) [is] deceived. I am but mad north-northwest. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a hand saw.” Eventually, Hamlet kills Claudius. So in DRDT terms, Ace finds out about David’s manipulation, David is unaware of this, and Ace eventually kills David’s public persona. Obviously this is an extreme simplification of the plot, but still.

…Of course, there’s also a chance this contradiction of opinions isn’t about Ace and David specifically. After all, David isn’t the only one to boil Ace down to his core traits of “dumb, angry, overall not a well-adjusted individual”. The whole class does this, at least for the most part. This Hamlet quote could just be trying to say what Ace has been saying. That everyone sees him as a loudmouth, stupid, cowardly and nothing more, when in reality there’s more to him than that.

I might have gone a little overboard with this part…I got excited…Hopefully this all actually makes sense, I had to revise some of this post because it got ramble-y and overall pretty cluttered.

So yeah. Here’s my (very late) contribution to the David MV discussion. Here’s what I think Ace’s part means. If you want me to elaborate anywhere, feel free to tell me, or if you want to tell me your thoughts, I’d love to see that!

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #david chiem #ace markey #David MV #fun fact: i was originally going to make a post about how maybe ace could be the red in color theory #…before realizing HOW MUCH RED THERE IS #not so sure i could justify him being that prominent even if he did play a major part in david’s reveal

[rasshu-benaio]

Gyutaro’s Age (decent read share this if you agree plz. I don’t even want credit, just throw it everywhere )

Ive been looking around on tumblr to see if the legendary “Gyutaro is a minor” argument persists here too and it did a year back with little bit of people talking about it here and there. Ive seen many people say that he’s a minor without concrete evidence and instead its “he looks like…” or “daki is this so he has to be this…” similar to Tiktok. so im going to debunk and provide my own evidence that Gyutaro is not a minor. Because i feel slighted when i see others get bashed because of a mistranslation on VIZ’s part.

But i do not blame anyone for accidentally believing that Gyutaro is a minor because well… it was in the English Manga, so it had to be true! Right…? Im just here to defend my Gyutaro peeps thats been fighting out there.

MY PERSONAL VIEWS ON KNY DEMON AGES

Ultimately i do side with the demons do not age after they are turned even if there is evidence to contradict such a statement (unfortunately that is spoiler territory but most people know the reference). But since demons not aging could be referring towards demons not “deteriorating” like a normal humans i don’t have a firm stance so i don’t think bad about others who claim that a character’s actual age is their canonical demon age. Personally i switch between sides; demons don’t deteriorate nor do they mentally grow up after being turnt.

- overall, i do not care for demons that died as kids to be put in lewd situations like Daki or Rui (But i dont care for bashing anyone actively if i see it because its not really doing anything productive for me)

- But i do not like that Gyutaro fans or non Gyutaro fans will automatically label him as a minor because of a rumor started from a manga error. Just to turn around and then use the words “pedophile/cp/etc” to somehow justify your misguided hatred? those words are very serious claims and should never be loosely used. It devalues such claims making it harder for REAL ones to be identified and caught.

- I personally like to view Gyutaro as 20-23 despite his most consistent age being 26 due to his demon age (126). (Which is stated in the Japanese wiki/ the English Wiki is a blood bath between fans even if the admins believe Gyutaro is an adult)

- so i will support my claims by debunking the most prominent “gyutaro is a minor” arguments and then at the end i will add my own/ others evidence to support the Gyutaro is an adult claim

Argument 1: The one that started it all; The VIZ error

Every claim that states that “Gyutaro is a minor” derives from the english manga panel where Gyutaro says something akin to “when I was 13, and you stabbed that samurai” and it played out like Gyutaro was referring to himself as being 13 when he was turned into a demon that day BUT this was actually an error due to the fact that the original Japanese copy was actually written wrong. In the original Japanese copy, when gyutaro was referencing an age, he was referring to no one. From how it’s written, the view could believe either Ume was 13 or he was 13. (Or at least that was the vibe i had gotten from some native Japanese folks i talked to; one doesn’t even look at demon slayer as they said quote “how it was written was strange?”)

Viz Rendition (Do not blame VIZ; it happens every bluemoon, theres an actual list of their mistakes too)

The Original One (From what ive been told, its phrased weirdly and its confusing to translate effectively)

The Fan Edit (Fan edits are popular among the manga portion of anime fans so i wanted to clear up that this IS a fan edit that got popular)

So with that being left up in the air, most fans and non gyutaro fans had to wait until the anime came out and surely enough, the anime confirmed that Ume was the 13 he was referring to and not himself. So that nearly eradicated the most common “Gyutaro is 13” arguments by far (though some who have been misinformed still use that argument) But this still doesn’t confirm he’s an adult just yet as those same people who said he was 13, simply moved it up two years and said he was 15 so heres my next debunk

- And just to add because some kny fans did NOT realize that Gyutaro and Daki/Ume are NOT twins and Gyutaro is canonically the older brother.

The anime rendition (most anime do tend to clear up manga inconsistencies anyway)

Argument 2: the CURRENT META, Gyutaro is 15-16-17 claim.

After the “gyutaro is 13” claim was debunked completely, many people switched up their arguments and said he was 15 due to the age gap in kimetsu academy between him and his sister (16-18) a two year age gap. This one is easy to prove wrong but you would have to know how to process math and comparing skills which everyone SHOULD have; ill attempt to explain it to my best ability regardless. There are a few main points debunking this and its easy to see.

Reason One (KimAcademy ages don’t correlate): Using Gyutaro’s and Ume’s age gap is unreliable due to the fact that everyones ages would have to correlate aswell. Heres a few examples. Ume is canonically 13 but in the AU, she would be 16 to fit into the narrative. But since Gyutaro is 18, people claimed that he would be 15 in canon. Unfortunately that is not true because every character would need to correlate and be aged up 2 years which isnt true (IE: akaza stays the same).

And even if Akaza was the exception, other characters have differing ages like Yushiro, Murata, Kanea (if you buy into the when you die you dont age)

Reason two (Gyutaro was not two when Ume was born): With people saying he was 15 when he died also means that people are willingly to believe that he was only two when Ume was born. (If you believe that, skip forward where i bring logic into this and human development… plus a 2-4 year old taking care of and infant isn’t possible since people want to use realism here)

Reason three (The kimetsu Academy spinoff is a spin off that doesn’t effect canon): like many official spinoffs and alternate universes, these types of media don’t affect the actual canon. Like how all of the demons are reincarnated but the KnY series shows that a demon cant do that, only humans can. Plus, this AU is specifically school based so changing popular characters to fit a notion like that is common and SHOULDNT be cited as concrete proof. (I dont see people claiming that ume is 16 nor that yushiro is a middle schooler.)

- maybe if the official AU was modern themed only and not modern school themed then this claim could be effective but there are huge contradictions that using the AU cant be a realistic source

Argument 3: “he looks…” IE, you don’t understand Gyutaro’s character yet.

This is the MOST infuriating argument and it hurts to see Gyutaro fans use this because this is literally why he acts the way that he does! And this is also where my proof starts to appear because its based off of not Gyutaro’s appearance but Ume’s?! Back to the point, this argument is simple to debunk. When no one has any more proof they base his age off of his looks and there is SO much proof to debunk this that its crazy. I love it when people do this because i gottem in a lock hold and then they get mad.

Reason 1 (thats not a gyutaro exclusive thing, its an art style):

- Basing ages off of looks wont get you ANYWHERE with any demon slayer characters; its literally sounds like “but daki looks like an adult” claims. We know how unreliable looks are.

- better examples of characters looking a different age from their canon age (this is both anime and manga referenced): Yushiro, Daki, Genya, Nezuko (unfortunately her adult demon form causes issues), Shinobu, Sabito, Muzan, Akaza, and even tengen’s wives. These are just a handful of characters that people get confused by because of appearance. Its mainly because of the style that most characters are drawn in (Big forehead, big eyes in the middle point of the head) style which makes everyone look younger. Reading the manga, I even thought Akaza was really young when he died (im good now though)

Reason 2 (Gyutaro is built different)

- I see this argument where people pull up gyutaros flash back screenshots without realizing the key factor in it all. But at first, i didn’t get it either because he barely changes physically but guess who does; Ume shabana. If you pay attention at Gyutaro’s WHOLE flashback, you will see that there are a total of 3 freagin time skips!? I only noticed two but someone pointed out that theres another but its so small that no one bats an eye! Heres the shots in order but this comes with speculation about his exact age in each screenshot, so i will elaborate with logic, biology, and comparisons in the kny art style. The manga actually gives more proof for his age so ill parrot it in this section too.

The first stage ( This is way before ume was even conceived as this is the stage where Gyutaro was alone and was ultimately beaten by his mother in an attempt to kill him. He was unable to defend himself)

- he is the smallest in this scene and to use the “he looks” trend against everyone who uses that argument without thorough analysis; when comparing his body structure to similar structured characters in demon slayer, he resembles Tanjiro’s smallest brother who was 3. (Which immediately debunks the “Gyutaro is 15” completely at this point)

-this was also the stage where he did depend on his mother for food; and unfortunately he wasn’t provided much. He was just the “useless child that shouldn’t be alive”

- So the best age range for this scene and the context given in the manga as well; Gyutaro would be 3-5 years old since this was the stage where his mother beat on him the most

The second stage; the baby Ume era(this is a longer stretch of time since hes referring to it as such; the stage where he was learning how to survive, being picked on by others, and when ume was born etc)

- This was now the longer stretch of time where the manga has more context to help! And now we have a new character to help us understand visually! (And when my preordered book comes in, i will have better visuals too)

- firstly we can see that Gyutaro is older from the start now; hes taller with alittle more defined muscles, though his face is still softer so he isnt an adult here. It would be less likely at this stage anyway as he still lived under his mother and hasn’t been thrown out.

- he was now, becoming independent since he wasnt under the care of his mother completely, or lack there of. Now venturing to hunt for his food like raw snakes, mice and bugs (which isn’t healthy in the slightest)

- due to him not eating like a growing kid should, we already can tell he was malnourished and this will lead to his stunted growth in the next stage

- but before we move on, i HAVE to introduce the most vital piece of evidence; Infant Ume. using the information from the official kny manga; Gyutaro had the strength to fight back his mother when she tried to harm Ume which means hes not the helpless 3-5 year old we saw at first. And adding up everything else we have, we have a rough estimate of him being (10-15 years old) during Umes birth.

- and using the kny power scaling, it isnt too far fetched that Gyutaro could overpower his mother to keep Ume safe. Though he was jobless at this point so he hadn’t had practice to actually “fight” just yet

The last stage (The malnourished part that everyone seems to look past and somehow complete miss an obviously older Ume?)

- this is the ending stage were Gyutaro and Ume get turned into demons but heres the funny thing that tells me that people aren’t paying attention to their claims. So many people will use these pictures in conjunction with the one above claiming that Gyutaro is the same age in both when Ume grows exponentially!? Its hard to see because there isnt a clear difference in gyutaro himself but we can use Ume as the deciding factor!

- Comparing the lower photos with the upper ones, we can tell that gyutaro has aged up because of his facial structure is now defined instead of soft. His clothes are now new and not tattered, he is actually taller, and Ume is canonically “13” now.

- what does that mean? That means ume has aged 13 years since the last time skip, so gyutaro did too, making him over 18. The mother has died by now so Gyutaro is Umes sole provider other than herself and her line of work. Gyutaro has grown up to become strong enough to beat up other adults in the district like samurai and other strong “men”. He very well is an adult, maybe living on his own making ends meet for him and his sister since he has a canon job. Hes just so fragile looking because he never had enough nourishment to help him grow.

- so Gyutaro’s final age range when he becomes a demon is his mid twenties. Since adding 13 years shoots him past the “gyutaro is 18” claim that ive seen too.

- and before anyone compares his height to douma’s in the last scene. Douma is a behemoth and comparing a malnourished/growth stunted/hunched gyutaro to douma is unrealistic because even akaza(who is pretty healthy) would look up at that man. Gyutaro is actually around the samurai’s height; the one that burned Ume.

Last Arguments: these are the lesser claims ive seen, other takes and extras from other languages manga like Spanish and Japanese manga, sites, and blogs.

The one i use: Gyutaros and Ume’s demon ages were agreed in Japan but i cannot find any English translations. The preordered entertainment district book may contain additional information. Ume’s demon age is 113 and Gyutaro’s is 126 and knowing that Ume and Gyutaro were turned into demons the same day by douma we can infer that Gyutaro is 26. Its not a headcanon as so many claim it to be since its derived from a canonical source.

There is a newer rumor claiming Gyutaro to be 23 and people are citing a book that doesn’t have an English translation yet and i have yet to look into it. Its worth a mention if anyone has links or scans i can use. I am not shy of buying to see if its a real product.

There is an extra explanation for Gyutaro’s small and malnourished stature and that is congenital syphilis. (I will not go into detail but there are many parallels to this disease and Gyutaro’s human AND demon appearances but research at your own risk, pictures can be disturbing)

Ive seen people add on that Gyutaro and Ume are probably Half siblings (same mother different father) due to their mother being a p— in such a intimate career and area. Its less likely that they share the same father yet even know their real fathers (this was just a small thing i wanted to point out, it has nothing to do with the argument)

Gyutaro’s voice aids to his age as in his flash back you can distinctly hear his younger voice in the snowing scene compared to his cries when ume died. In my opinion, he doesnt have a really high nor a really low voice, similar to akaza or douma. But if he was a kid during the end of his flashback, he should’ve sounded like the snow scene where he was around 16-19 from how Ume is depicted.

Gyutaro does NOT act like a child compared to daki and even daki is a stretch. Gyutaro is extremely mature in his mindset but he is very hatred driven. He is very mature as he thinks more about the benefits for his little sister rather than himself. Hes going to be driven by jealousy so he will act selfish it’s mainly for Ume, plus selfishness is not a kid exclusive trait. When he doesnt get his way, he doesnt act out by whining and attempts to deduce a way out of his stressful situation. But he his pretty toxic as a man… toxic masculinity be damned

A thing that i didn’t realize but another pointed out; Gyutaro has no need to alter his demon appearance because hes not in a profession that needs him to, so why does he look so tall as a demon? They theorized that his demon appearance should be similar to how his body shouldve grown up to be like, like his kimetsu academy counterpart that isnt malnourished.

(So yeah, thats a good amount of what i could manage to fit on here, obviously theres more proof but im only limited to 10 photos so i couldn’t show everything i wanted to. This is my magnum opus i guess, so if you are dealing with anyone who claims that “gyutaro is a minor”, show them this, share it everywhere, i dont even WANT credit! I just want my fellow homies to be allowed to love an ugly ass man without some person saying “hes a minor”)

#demon slayer #gyutaro #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #gyutaro shabana #gyutarouu #gyutarou #gyutaro age #kny gyutaro #please share #demon slayer gyutaro #share #kimetsu no yaiba gyutaro #anime controversy #controversial #there is no debate #just a woman spitting facts #peace #gyutaro minor? #gyutaro adult? #its not even funny #how many minors be attacking eachother about this

[todayisafridaynight]

hey, i hope life's treating ya well this week! i finished y6 yesterday and came to share some thoughts if you don't mind :)

i think kiryu tried to project on his kids what he wanted kazama to be like as a father, but ultimately kazama'ed all of them, especially daigo. i found the ending of y6 very touching, but that's because i like daigo in all of his bland npc glory, and i agree with a lot of criticism of that ending being somewhat weird, especially when we had so little interaction with haruka, who just. you know. woke up from a coma. i wrote this already in my blog, but i'll repeat myself: that ending would've made much more sense if we had just more of daigo in general amd/or saw his transition from his y2 version to his version later in the series. like, we know haruka and kiryu are close, and we assume daigo and kiryu are close too, but i'd love to see more evidence of it in the actual text. that one substory in y0 clearly wasn't enough. i wish we could have more of haruka, MUCH more of haruka, too. the lack of her agency in y6 after y5 felt frustrating

i did enjoy the game, though. i really liked the callbacks to the previous games. as for side activities, it never seizes to amaze me how the eroge minigames are become just more and more unhinged. but all the missed storytelling opportunities, man

(it's also v funny that daigo's sr card code in clan creator is kiryusavemepleaz. i don't speak japanese and therefore haven't played rggo, but i know about a story where majima lets daigo win him on purpose or something? also the situations daigo's often put in (which are mostly near death experiences), him never getting any kind of resolve with ryuji as well... i think yokoyama kinda hates daigo lmao)

Heya! I sure love thoughts and I sure love talking about Daigo :]

On the note about 'Kazama'ing his kids, I'm going to be ugly and take a minute to interpret what that means if you don't mind.

When it comes to what Kazama did to his kids, he allowed Nishiki and Kiryu to join the yakuza despite knowing the dangers of it at their insistence. Ergo, we see Kazama prioritize the yakuza, telling Kiryu to leave the Dojima situation in Y1 alone. Moreover, despite Kazama lacking faith in Nishiki's abilities as a yakuza, he still expected him to be able to lead a family by himself while he took care of Yumi in hiding.

As for Kiryu and his kids, it was evident Kiryu wanted to be able to parent the kids at Morning Glory- to speculate, maybe as a way to atone of Kazama's messy paretning without outright admitting Kazama had faults. However, his bond with those in the yakuza inevitably kept him coming back, especially in regards to Daigo (who, of course, we find out he sees as a son. In this, it's a case of Kiryu still wanting to be a good parent, but the priorities aren't exactly there). In this (and I've discussed this in a post prior), Kiryu's attempting to spread himself thin when it comes to his family: he wants to help the Tojo, if not predominantly due to Daigo's presence there, but he also wants to father the orphans at Morning Glory. Unfortunately, since Kiryu can justify leaving the kids as Okinawa's a safer setting and he's admittedly at his best in a fight, he ends up leaving for Tokyo every time action's needed.

It's actually Kiryu's constant leaving that had me assume he was writing his letter to Haruka at first during Y6's ending, specifically when he was talking about how he lamented not spending more time with her. On the subject of Haruka, Y6 really did her disgustingly: as soon as she was of age, she becomes a mother and, on top of that, she gets hit by a car and is in a coma the majority of the game and doesn't even get to properly spend time with Kiryu before he vanishes. I genuinely wish and- foolishly- hope one day Haruka can actually get the respect she deserves after having been such an important, prominent, and interesting character throughout this franchise.

To talk about Daigo and Kiryu, the main subject of this ask I feel, I think RGG did as much as they could when it came to demonstrating Kiryu and Daigo's relationship. In Y5, it's revealed that Kiryu believes that people who become close to him suffer (and in this scene in particular, he's referring to Daigo after he gets shot on the roof)- how long he's had this mentality I couldn't definitively tell you, but I wouldn't be surprised if this has been a thought since everyone's deaths in Y1. Because of Kiryu's fear for others' well-being, it can be reasoned that Kiryu might have wanted to keep his distance from Daigo as much as he could lest something go wrong (but of course, he also feels responsible for protecting others, leading him to take action where he should probably leave things be). In Y4, we can see the buds of Kiryu regretting not being there for Daigo when he needed him most, outright apologizing to him for putting him in the position of chairman without any proper training or time. Considering all of this, Kiryu's letter to Daigo aligns with what we've seen: even if Kiryu wasn't able to be close to Daigo and properly guide him like he should have, he still confesses that Daigo was incredibly important to him and he regrets letting that fear stop their bond from deepening.

Daigo on the flip side, we become very aware that he values Kiryu immensely. To return to Y5, at the end of his taxi ride he tries to reassure Kiryu that he's able to carry himself without his help (i.e. 'I'm trying my best to walk this path' after Kiryu kicks him out of the car). Daigo's need for Kiryu's approval is also evident in RGGO: the story with Majima you're talking about is one of his character stories where he first becomes chairman. In this story, Daigo struggles to understand what Kiryu's intention was entrusting him to the Tojo Clan, but once he realizes it, this is his turning point to stop being the brute he was in Y2. To extend on RGGO shining light on Daigo's feelings for Kiryu, during his initial meeting with Mine in Mine's story, he lets Mine know he was so ardent in watching the Tojo at first so he could make 'the man' who put him in that position proud, and later during their bar conversation in another one of Mine's stories, he lets Mine know that while he doesn't consider Kiryu family at this point, he still considers him someone incredibly close to him (and as we see in Y6, Daigo will do a hard 180 on this and proudly call Kiryu his father). To jump back to Kiryu for a second, we can argue that Mine's whole 'what could Daigo see in a man like you' line could have contributed to Kiryu's want to distance himself from Daigo. Because what if Mine had a point: what WAS there to admire in Kiryu? What could Daigo POSSIBLY like about Kiryu, and would it not just be better if he wasn't in his life after- inadvertently- getting him put in a coma? To end this segment on a goofy note, Daigo's clan code being 'kiryuhelpmeplz' is super funny with the father/son lens: Daigo's gotta call his dad to help him out </3

EDIT: In regards to the RGGO story I mentioned here, I misremembered the exact quote and that drastically changes the scene and meaning I'm referencing, and significantly portrays the relationship between Daigo and Kiryu differently from what I've said. For the correct quote and sentiment, please refer to this ask here (x)

In all of this, it's reasonable that RGG couldn't expand on Kiryu and Daigo's relationship, but that's what makes Kiryu's letter so significant. We see from Kiryu and Daigo's sides individually that they saw each other as family, but neither of them were able to confront that fact directly for one reason or another (Kiryu, again, with is fear of hurting those he loves and his general inability to express his emotions perfectly. Daigo might have thought seeing Kiryu as his dad was inappropriate, especially after having had to believe he killed his actual dad). Kiryu lamenting the bond they could have had wouldn't have had the same merit if Kiryu and Daigo were actually able to bond more, but because they didn't and we see they still cherish each other, the impact's there.

My long ugly ramble aside, I'm glad you still enjoyed the game! I don't know if you have any more of the games left to play, but if you ever get around to them I hope you enjoy them!

#long post #snap chats #if you guys ever want any of daigo or mine's RGGO stories i do have them bookmarked and saved so ! ask away and ill link em to you :) #this is a lot of disjointed rambling forgive me i just have a lot of thoughts about daigo and kiryu and daigo and kiryu #yokohama hates daigos ass fr LMAO

[ch4nb4ng]

Evil Roommate

pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers

warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise

requested : yes!

word count 6.2k

summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.

“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”

The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.

“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”

Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.

“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”

Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”

A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?

“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”

His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”

Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.

“Who the fuck said you could touch me?

“Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”

“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”

You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”

“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”

Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”

A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.

“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”

Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.

You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.

Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.

“Y/n?”

Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.

“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.

“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”

The arm he had around her waist made you sick.

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.

“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”

“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”

You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.

“Uh no thanks Y/N-”

“We should all hang out!”

The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.

“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”

“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.

“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”

You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling

“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”

You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.

“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”

The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.

“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”

“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.

Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.

“Hello?”

His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.

“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”

“What do you need me to do?”

You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.

“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”

“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”

“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”

“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”

“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”

And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.

You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.

“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n what are you doing-”

“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?

Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.

“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.

“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”

She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.

“Let’s play a game!”

“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.

“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”

***

Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.

“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”

Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.

“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”

“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”

“Yes you have.”

All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.

“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.

“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”

Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.

Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-

“Y/N? Y/N!”

The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.

“When?”

As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.

“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”

“I’m not saying it here in front of-”

“Who? Chaeyeon?”

Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.

“It was in the car.”

Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.

“The car?”

You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.

Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?

“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”

“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.

“Do you want this?”

“What?”

A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.

“I said, do you want this?”

“Do you?”

His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.

“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”

Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.

“Kiss me if you want me.”

He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”

You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.

“Fuck it.”

He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.

“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.

“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”

A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.

But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”

You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.

“Are you being serious right now?”

The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.

“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.

“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.

“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”

His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.

“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.

“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?

“Minho I’m-”

“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”

His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.

“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”

“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”

You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.

“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”

“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”

“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”

The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.

“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.

“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”

“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one

who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”

There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.

“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.

“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”

“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”

Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.

“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”

“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.

“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”

Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.

“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”

The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.

Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.

“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”

It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.

“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”

“You wanna cum baby?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna cum right now?”

“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.

“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”

And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.

“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.

“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”

You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.

“Why don’t you find out and see?”

#lee minho #minho #leeknow #stray kids #lino #lee minho smut #skz smut #leeknow scenario #stray kids smut #stray kids scenario #dom leeknow #dom lee minho #dom lino #lino smut #ch4nb4ng

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

call out my name

summary: y/n overhears jj confessing to spencer that she’s always loved him (do i even need to explain further how this made my heart drop into my ass)

word count: 3,118                                                                                     reading time aprox: 12 mins

masterlist

The blood ran cold in my veins, making my arms shiver. My face paled an ugly rouge as the words left JJ’s supple lips; each phrase that strung out from her confession wrenched a small piece of my heart each time. It felt like a laceration to my throat, like my oxygen supply had been severed and I was unable to catch my breath.

I love you.

I have always loved you.

My lifeless eyes never tore away from the monitor that laid in front of me. In crystal clear pixels, there lay Spencer and JJ tied up in a convenience store with the unsub and two hostages. My body was visibly tense and my lips parted in bewilderment; the physiological and mental tether that dictated my reactions delayed.

I hadn’t even noticed Penelope gaping at me with doleful eyes, turning off her intercom so the rest of the team was unable to listen in. Although the same idea must have run through their heads as they swapped disconcerted looks at each other.

“Oh - my sweet Y/N - I don’t, do you want - oh -” Penelope stuttered empathetically, pushing herself off of her chair to gather an array of toys to comfort me. “I can - oh you can borrow my purple giraffe, that always makes me hap-” She continued, pushing the plushies into my chest.

“No, no I’m - Garcia I’m okay - thank you...tho” I reassured, gently guiding her back to her seat, despite her pitiful protests. Before she had the chance to argue against my reassurance, her attention was captured by Tara’s voice on the intercom.

“Hey Garcia can you check the satellite feed and see if there’s a side door to the building?” Tara requested. Although her tone was apprehensive and tame like she was tiptoeing around the question.

“Affirmative” Garcia replied enthusiastically, reaching a gentle hand over to where my hands laid on her shoulders. She ran her delicate fingers over my knuckles in a way to say a silent ‘it’s going to be okay’, leaning her head back against my stomach with a tenderness in her gestures.

“And - uh - Y/N? Are you okay?” Tara tentatively asked, in which Garcia proceeded to look into my somber eyes with an expectant gaze. As I saw her through my peripherals, I knew that she could sense my true feelings about the situation. Her eyebrows softened and her red painted lips dropped into a pout. She tilted her head cutely in an attempt to grasp my attention, but I knew the second I locked eyes with her, my facade would eventually dissipate. With the persistence to direct my eyes away from her incessant gaze, she knew.

Before I had the opportunity to reply to Tara, Penelope had beat me to it. “Y/N! She uh - she’s in the bathroom...right now” She explained, mustering up the calmness in her voice to sound convincing. Fortunately enough, the case had been the focal point of the unit for the past week that Tara hadn’t noticed the panicked wince that left Penelope’s lips.

“Garcia just-” Tara sighed, making Penelope’s chest tense up and soften simultaneously. “Just make sure she’s doing fine. Did she hear what JJ said?” She spoke with a sense of concern laced in her sentences, hoping that I was unbeknownst to JJ’s profession.

“Uh-” Garcia paused, looking to me for an answer with wide eyes. I shook my head in denial, not wanting the team to know of my knowledge. As much as I valued our team being a family, I knew I would receive burdened looks and multiple ‘nonchalant check-ups’ from Rossi. I didn’t want the word ‘victim’ painted on my forehead. “-No, she left the room before JJ said anything” Garcia affirmed, nodding her head yes, regardless of her unable to be seen.

“That’s good. Listen I’ll call you back when we get on the jet and keep an eye on Y/-”

“Oh! Y/N’s coming back - see you guys later” Penelope rushed, ending the call instantly before Tara could get out another word.

She swiveled in her chair, facing me once again. She took my hands in hers, standing up to pull me into her tight embrace. I relaxed in her touch, letting all the feelings melt away with every soothing word that permeated the room. Pulling away, she took surveillance of my state and furrowed her eyebrows in worry.

But it wasn’t my poignancy that sparked her perplexity, it was the lack thereof.

My cheeks should’ve been stained by an onset of tears, but it wasn’t. My eyes should’ve masked a similar pearl glaze that coated the film on Penelope’s eyes, but it didn’t. I should’ve been disheveled and overrun by overbearing anguish, but I wasn’t.

-

The numbers on the elevator rose expediently, indicating the arrival of the team. My hands shook in disquiet and suspense, my focus glued to my shoes as I felt my entire body get antsy. Penelope stood in front of me whispering a mellow encouragement, suggesting alleviating mantras that usually worked to calm her down.

Without another word said, the doors to the elevator dinged and revealed exhausted, yet relieved, adults. Although in the midst of it all, there was a heavy air of reluctance that surrounded the reunion, despite the gleeful interactions that were expressed through Penelope’s endearments.

I reveled in the sight of it all, feeling my heart swell at the inspiriting display of affection made by the team; a feeling that is often uncommon with our careers. I stood with my shoulders slumped, hands folded in my pockets, and at a distance from their reconciliation. It was only until I met the eyes of Spencer that my entire body flinched; and it was when I hadn’t met JJ’s gaze as she stared at the floor, when my heart fell flaccid at the bottom of my stomach.  

I approached Spencer with a fictitious content expression, not wanting to confront the issue at bay. I noticed his facial features contort from uneasiness to relief as he reciprocated the reassuring smile I wore for him. He took this as his cue to take hurried strides towards me to encase me with his arms in a bone crushing hug. For a split second I wanted to believe the fervor that swelled inside me while I surrendered in his embrace, but the wandering eyes of JJ had convinced me otherwise.

Spencer cupped both of my cheeks in his course hands, enthusiastically pulling me in for a long awaited kiss. But by instinct I yanked my face away from his hands forcefully, catching him and myself by surprise.

“I - um, sorry. I was having sushi with Garcia earlier and I don’t think you want to smell tuna breath” I joked, wiping Spencer’s touch off of my hands.

“Don’t be silly Y/N I haven’t seen you i-” Spencer persisted, reaching out to handle my wrists.

“Wait Spence - Spencer - um Spencer, I forgot to mention that Diana called earlier to check on you” I interjected, a guilty gut feeling resurfacing as I used his mother as a cheap excuse to divert the conversation. “Oh well, I was actually planning to visit her soon and I was going to ask you if you want to come wi-”

“I- I don’t know Spencer” I laughed, keeping up the phony disguise that I hoped was effective enough to bypass the room of profilers. “I just have a lot of paperwork” I justified, feeling myself shrink under his incessant scrutiny. His lips curled into a small pout and his eyes dulled for a moment. I stiffened in response, paranoid that he had discovered a chink in my armor. “Next time?” I offered, compensating for the lack of ardor in my decisions.

Despite my attempts at assuring him, his expression was still left to alter. By now the formalities between the team had ended, resorting to directing their attention to me and Spencer. Backing away from where Spencer stood, I met the wondering gazes of my peers. I gave a cordial nod to all of them, ignoring the obvious trepidation that was evident in their body language.

Receiving a final look from Penelope, I walked back to my desk, letting them plan their festivities without me.

-

A few weeks flew by since the incident. Despite the passage of time, the latter of the situation still sat heavy in my thoughts, consuming every waking moment I had.

The bags under my eyes became more prominent, the youthful glow on my cheeks had dimmed, and my voice diminished to a low mutter. The input I had contributed to cases followed the change in my demeanor, exponentially depreciating as the numbness increased.

Whenever I sat on my chair, my eyes would linger between Spencer’s desk that sat across JJ’s. At times the sight would invoke a bubbling envy that felt too visceral for me to experience, so I would set my emotions to the side; averting my effort into my paperwork.

Eventually as the cases became more gruesome and my mental paralysis ensued, I gradually reverted to writing up the paperwork instead of participating in active cases. Unfortunately the unanticipated change in my behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Emily called me into her office with a sense of urgency, and we’re both now here sitting across at a distance while she stared at me with a motherly look. Concentration was etched in her facial features, folding her hands together as she tried to dissect the impenetrable expression I wore.

“Emily please don’t profile me” I sighed, a tired grimace playing on my lips. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, leaning back into her chair as she continued to observe me. “I’m just worried Y/N - WE are all worried” She lamented, reaching over to grasp my hand. “You haven’t been yourself in a while Y/N. Did - is something, did something happen? Did you...find anything that made you upset?” She pursued, tiptoeing around the idea of JJ’s confession.

“NO! I, um - I haven’t - I just” I struggled to form coherent sentences, feeling panic flood through my system. “Look Emily, I appreciate the concern, but I’m just not feeling okay and I really don’t want to talk about it” I admitted. “I- I know it’s a lot, but w- would it be okay if I take a couple of personal days - I just can’t seem to figure myself out” I muttered, letting a fragment of my feelings slip into my profession.

“Take as many days as you’d like - and give me a call when things are...handled - just know that if you need anything - and I mean anything - you ca-”

“Thank you Emily” I nodded, cutting her off abruptly. I stood up from my seat with my head hanging low, giving her a tight lipped smile as I made my way to exit her office.

“Y/N!” She called out, stopping me in my tracks. I titled my head to the side, glancing at her. “Take care of yourself...please?” She desperately pleaded, her words laced with genuine concern.

For the first time, my heart ached at her words. The bitter feeling trickling into reality as the sorrowful eyes she beamed at me penetrated through my skin. It was then that I realized that the armor I wore to shield me from Spencer was really to shelter me from myself.

-

Spencer’s POV

My back slumped into the office chair while I played with the Doctor Who knick-knacks that Garcia had gifted to me at a Christmas party. My eyes were focused on the toy, but my mind had astral projected to another place: a place that wasn’t pleasant. The thoughts that were weighing heavy on shoulders had taken its toll on my arms, legs, and body like I was slowly being pulled away from reality into a dimension of isolation.

Although the only feeling I was allowed to experience was this nagging sensation in the back of my head, a thought that permeated my headspace, but wasn’t allowed to be identified or understood. I thought it was the aftermath of JJ’s confession, but that was handled during Rossi’s wedding.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know.

I didn’t know what had been circling in my head and I didn’t know how to control it. All I knew is that Y/N had taken a few sick days and that Emily had informed me that she hadn’t heard of JJ’s confession. But those days turned into weeks until a month had passed.

In the beginning of her leave, I’d call her everyday and occasionally visit her apartment whenever we were on a case, she would even call in to check on everybody. But like how the seasons change and the leaves start to decay, her efforts soon became stagnant. Soon after, my calls would be left unanswered, my visits to her apartment ceased due to no one responding, and she would only answer to Garcia.

I missed the way she would waltz into the office with the brightest grin she can offer and every time I’d look into her eyes, it felt like I had a glimpse into what heaven is. I missed the way she would curl up into my arms and breath in my scent, while we shared a book. I missed the way she’d bring the most wonderful orchestra to the moments where I felt my world become overrun by deafening silence. She had done nothing but bring love and devotion into everything she does.

So what dimmed the spark that usually burned interminably in her?

I set the trinket down to the side, taking a needed breath as my eyes were caught by a small picture frame that was delicately placed at the corner of my desk. An elated smile replaced the tired grimace I had been sporting all week, a newfound warmth filling my chest up with a familiar radiance.

It was a picture of Y/N when me and her had visited Central Park to ice skate. In the image she was in mid air, her eyes were shimmering against the snow that fell around us and she was laughing, a melody that I can still hear just by looking at a reminiscence of her. She was and still is the epitome of beauty.

I was taken out of my thoughts when a frantic Penelope zoomed through the bullpen with an unnerved look. She was caught in the arms of Emily, stopping her in her tracks and encouraging her to breathe. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and her hair was disheveled.

“I - I, oh my god - I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry - I w- wasn’t, it’s my fault - I wasn’t honest” She sputtered out, her hands shaking beside her as she tried to form proper sentences.

By this time the team had surrounded her as they witnessed her frenzy. I watched from afar as JJ and Tara came to Penelope’s side, consoling her. Luke and Matt joined me, watching the event unfold from a distance like I did.

“Is- is she okay? Did something happen?” Luke inquired, his words laced with panic and worry. I shook my head looking to Matt if he had any intel, but he also denied it. “Okay, I’m gonna go and see what’s-” Luke began, before getting cut off by Emily announcing an emergency meeting.

We all gathered around the round table, anticipation engulfing the air and each one of our faces. Penelope sported a perturbed expression while Emily stood behind her with a similar troubled look.

I folded my hands on the table while my legs had gotten antsy from the silence as everyone filed into the room. Finally when everyone was seated, Luke was the first one to break the quietude. “Is everything okay Penelope?” He asked.

It didn’t take a profiler to notice how Emily’s behavior shifted when Alvez spoke. Her shoulders had flinched, her breath had shortened, and her hands had risen up to Penelope’s shoulder in an attempt to encourage her to elaborate. These were the indications that usually meant an onslaught of bad occurrences, but I only had understood Penelope’s concern when Y/N’s name had surpassed her lips.

“What - What do you - What do you mean Y/N?” I blurted out, feeling my heart drop into my stomach. My hands traveled to the pockets of my blazer, feeling sweat begin to accumulate in my palms. My breath hitched at the mention of her, hoping and praying that she was alright.

All the attention had been directed to me, but at the moment I would have cared less if Newton or Pascal was staring at me. It was as if my heart and my mind were tethered together to create a perfect storm that could obliterate me. I searched Penelope’s eyes for direct answers, but she refused to meet my gaze.

“Garcia!” I instinctively called out, making her flinch in terror, which I ultimately regretted as she was already in such a distressed state. “I- I’m sorry. Penelope...what’s happening with Y/N?” I whispered, softening the tone of my voice, cautious of letting my voice crack knowing that the team would dissect my reaction.

She sighed, looking to Emily for help in which Emily nodded at her to continue. “She knows” Penelope admitted, lifting her eyes to finally meet mine. “Sh- she heard what JJ said, and now she’s n- not even talking to me” She sighed, her breath hitching between every phrase she enunciated.

I felt my body freeze, but I didn’t know if it was either in fear, anger, or disappointment in myself. My emotions had become a cluster of hell that would continue to haunt me until I figured things out; until I could fix things with Y/N.

I sensed the apologetic glances I received from JJ, but despite my acknowledgement of her intentions, the festering indignation I was feeling against her had jaded any compassion I had.

“Spence-” JJ apprehensively spoke with a motherly tone.

“Don’t! I-”

My eyes were glued to the table, blocking out any attempt that the team made to pursue a conversation with me. My hands fidgeted as I racked my brain for a concise solution, although the process wasn’t as easy as I’d like since my conscious had been enveloping itself with self reproach. But in the end, I knew where I wanted to be - where I was meant to be.

Without a second thought, I promptly stood up from the chair and fled the bullpen with no attention to how JJ was calling out my name.

part 2

-

taglist: @rexorangecouny @howdycharlie

part 2 coming out tmrw or the day after that

see you soon <3

#spencer #spencer reid #Spencerreid #spencer reid icons #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid imagines #spencer x oc #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler x y/n #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic

[webofpassione]

Watermelon Sugar High

Narancia x Reader

Content Warnings: None

***

It was a hot day. One of those days when the sun blazed down with such a heat that even the beach became uninhabitable.

You lounged on the balcony in the smallest amount of fabric you could manage; a drink in one hand and your eyes closed. Even in the shade provided by your umbrella, the heat was making you feel sticky. You already knew you weren’t going to be able to do anything today so why bother trying.

A hiss of pain made you open your eyes and roll your head to the side to see what was happening.

Narancia had accidentally brushed against the door on his way out. The metal was probably hot enough to cause an actual burn.

“You good?” you asked.

He looked a little pouty when he plopped himself down on the edge of your lounge chair. It cleared up though when he grinned at you and held out the bowl he’d been carrying.

“Yeah, I’m cool. Want some?”

It was watermelon and you were more than happy to indulge. You had spotted one in the fridge earlier. Cool and sweet, you practically moaned in joy as you ate some. The juice ran down your fingers but you couldn’t have cared less.

“Thanks,” you said. “Are you going to have any?”

Narancia had been staring at you but he quickly snapped out of it. He placed the bowl down between you and sat cross-legged while you did the same, sharing the chair and the snack.

“We can’t make too much noise,” he said. “I snuck this out while the Pistols were distracted. Mista’s trying to get them to stop eating all the ice.”

You laughed a little, making sure to keep your voice down. “I didn’t think they’d be able to feel the heat. If they weren’t such ravenous little monsters, I’d offer to share my secret ice cream stash with them.”

Narancia’s eyes lit up at that. “You have a secret ice cream stash? Where?”

“If I tell you, it’s not going to be a secret,” you teased. “Then you’re going to tell Mista and I’m going to have no ice cream left by tomorrow.”

“I’m not going to tell Mista!”

“You literally tell him everything.”

Narancia huffed. He seemed genuinely sad for a few seconds but he recovered with shocking speed. “I promise not to tell Mista a thing,” he said.

“Nope.”

“Please,” he pleaded, drawing out the vowels and giving you the puppy eyes that he’d always been a master of. It was completely unfair that he could look so cute no matter what the situation.

His hair always fell into his face, even when he tried to keep it out. It framed his expression and made you want to give him everything that he wanted. You reached forward and played with one of the strands, vaguely aware of how a blush was starting to creep across his cheeks as you did so.

“Maybe some other day,” you teased. “When I’ve got a backup spot.”

“You’re being horrible,” he complained.

You laughed a little and went to take your hand away, only for him to follow after it. “I like your hair,” you commented.

That made Narancia pause. Nobody really focused on his hair – understandable given how the rest of the gang mostly had distinctive looks while his was just messy. It was an unusual compliment but one that still made him smile.

“I like your hair also,” he said, not entirely sure on how best to respond.

You laughed and thanked him. Moving the now-empty bowl aside, you stretched back out on the lounger and leaned back. Your legs brushed Narancia’s side as you did so. The watermelon juice on your fingers was sticky but it wasn’t annoying enough to justify moving.

Narancia said your name and you lifted your head to see him shifting awkwardly on the edge of the chair.

“You have some watermelon on your lips,” he said. His blush from before hadn’t faded, instead it seemed almost more prominent than before.

“So do you. Whatever should we do about that?”

Narancia looked like he wasn’t going to take the hint. You put the small amount of energy that had yet to be sapped from your body into sitting up again and leaning in close. He seemed to stop breathing when you did that. His entire body went taunt and you momentarily wondered if this was okay.

“Can I –“

Your question was cut off by a rough kiss. Teeth knocked together in his enthusiasm and you raised one hand to stroke his cheek, calming his excitement as you returned the kiss.

The watermelon on his lips was a sweet contrast to the slight salt taste. You hummed in pleasure, gently nipping at his bottom lip as you pulled away. A keening noise escaped him and you couldn't help a small chuckle before leaning in for another kiss.

His hands found their way to your waist, clutching you tightly. You shifted closer in encouragement, moving your hand from his cheek into his hair. There wasn’t any pulling, you just ran your fingers through the dark strands.

When you moved back for the second time, Narancia stared at you with his pupils blown wide and his lips the slightest bit swollen.

You smiled at him. “And our problem has been solved.” You reached up to lightly brush his lips with your thumb. “Though now, the watermelon’s sweetness feels a little lacking in comparison.”

Narancia seemed to realise what had happened then. He gave you the largest grin possible and leaned forward. “We just kissed,” he pointed out. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages! That was so awesome!”

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you also,” you admitted. “We should have done it earlier.”

His eyes lit up and he moved so close that his nose touched your own. “Why don’t we do it some more then?”

You grinned. “That sounds like a good way to spend the day.”

#jojo narancia #narancia x reader #jjba x reader

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Mega Leech

Like every cartoon ever made, today's episode is the environmental episode. We all know how high-quality those tend to be, right?

Let's get into the twelfth (chronologically the tenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Mega Leech.

We start off with the shyest girl in Marinette's class, Mylene, mentally preparing herself for a protest with her boyfriend, tough guy with a soft side, Ivan.

Wow, real subtle foreshadowing there, writers.

The thing Mylene and Ivan are protesting is something called the “Oxygen Project” by Mayor Andre Bourgeois, which will supposedly create fresh air for Paris. To be fair, this isn't just a random character trait they slapped onto Mylene like what we've seen with other episodes this season to justify their new Akuma forms. Back in the Season 2 episode “Reverser”, a major plotpoint for the final act was that Andre was about to approve a project that would send trash into space, which Mylene and Ivan were protesting at, before the titular Akuma threatened to send the trash back to the Earth. This show can get weird at times.

Even though they're the only two protesters, Andre still has Officer Roger Raincomprix take them into custody. To his credit, Roger does try to resolve things diplomatically, and is very hesitant to take them to his car (even though they aren't handcuffed and there's no divider), he only does so when his job is threatened by Andre. And let's get the obvious joke out of the way now because there's going to be a lot of moments like this.

Marinette sees the event from her house, and after running late to school resulting in a brief moment of Unfunny Marinette Slapstick, tells the class what's going on. Surprisingly, instead of ignoring the whole situation like every other episode she's been in, Ms. Bustier decides to actually be a teacher for once and calls Roger. She says that she'll supervise their protest while the rest of the class comes with her.

Back at the park, Andre is about to chop a tree down with a chainsaw, but is soon called out by Ms Bustier. Mylene calls out Andre for the obviously not eco-friendly project, but he soon plays an ad for the Oxygen Project.

Huh. So this is how Druidia's canned air business took off.

To be fair, this is actually a funny scene, as it does feel like an over the top commercial you'd see, especially the kind that gets promoted by a politician. Of course, this funny joke is soon followed yet another reminder that Marinette likes Adrien, because the writers assume the audience will forget if they aren't bashed over the head with this knowledge every episode.

And as usual, Adrien ignores Marinette's odd behavior around him, but that's more because he's distracted by the ad, because he was told it was for perfume (did the oxygen line not give away the purpose of the commercial?). Quick question: Why is Gabriel taking part in this? Why is a fashion designer being commissioned to create a bottle for a government-sanctioned project? Does he just invest in random projects and hopes they'll go under so he can akumatize someone? As for Mylene, her classmates are naturally confused as to why she is opposed to this project if it's good for the environment. Her response is something that can ironically be used to criticize this very show when talking about the Oxygen Project.

We then get a moment where, of course, Chloe is the one to say she doesn't care about trees despite having no real prominence in this episode. Seriously, this is the only line she gets and it's to remind the audience how much of an irredeemable monster she is.

Oh my God, Astruc, why don't you just say she's a climate change denier while you're at it, seeing how you already view them as criminals? You clearly want to throw every negative character trait and label at her, don't you? If you're so crazy about hating her, why not make Chloe Captain Planet villain levels of evil?

Marintte points out the obvious flaw in Andre's plan to stop pollution by selling air in plastic bottles that can easily pollute the ocean, which gives the Mayor a lot of bad press, and even though she's the one to say this, Mylene still shames her for ignoring her attempts to get people to protest because she was busy. Yes, the show is seriously trying to blame Marinette for not doing enough to help the environment on top of her various other responsibilities like PROTECTING THE CITY OF PARIS ON A DAILY BASIS.

The families of the kids come to support the protest, and Andre tries to call Gabriel for help, but he basically tells him to figure it out himself, supporting my earlier theory in the process. He transforms into Shadowmoth and sends an Akuma and an Amok to Andre. This transforms him into Malediktator again and and gives him a Sentimonster ally, the titular Mega Leech.

Mega Leech is another example of a Sentimonster with a simple design but a really interesting set of powers. As soon as its summoned, Malediktator jumps into his mouth and summons an army of minature clones of himself (making me wonder why they didn't call the Sentimonster “Micromanager”) to jump into the ears of civilians and control them directly like Plankton in that one episode of SpongeBob. It's a pretty terrifying concept and a really clever extension of Malediktator's mind control powers.

Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and tries fighting off the Malediktator clones, but obviously gets overwhelmed by their sheer numbers. Marinette soon pretends to be possessed by a Malediktator clone to get Mylene to run away while she transforms, once again summoning her Lucky Charm as soon as she meets up with Cat Noir because the animators really want to show off the new suit. She uses the Lucky Charm, a single ice skate, to break the mayoral sash around one of the Malediktator clones and frees the Akuma and Amok, but Mega Leech is still around, along with the brainwashed civilians. She and Cat Noir realize that the Akumas and Amoks must have multiplied when Malediktator cloned himself. Ladybug tells Cat Noir to distract the Malediktator clones (the latter actually acknowledging how he always has to do that)

Ladybug meets up with Mylene in the sewer where she had escaped to earlier, only to find the girl crying. Ladybug offers Mylene the Mouse Miraculous, but she turns her down because of how scared she is. Unlike when they tried to do the same thing by having Zoe doubt herself in “Queen Banana”, this scene makes sense because Mylene has consistently been shown to be a very timid person. It feels much more believable to see this from her. Granted, it's undermined by Ladybug saying that Mylene is already like a superhero because of her protesting for a good cause. I get she's trying to reassure her, but the whole environmental lesson is kind of muddled by saying Marinette doesn't care about the environment because of how busy she was FIGHTING CRIME. Thankfully, the lesson is more about bravery being able to move onward in spite of fear.

Nevertheless, this still motivates Mylene to take the Mouse Miraculous and transforms into Polymouse.

And boy, is it bad. I'm not trying to body shame Mylene here, I'm glad they didn't try and slim her down either, but I'm really not a fan of the color scheme for the suit. With the use of pink and white, it looks way too similar to Pigella.

I get that they were trying to make Mylene look like a mouse, but I'm just really not a fan of the white gloves and boots. They stick out compared to Pigella, where they actually blended in with the color scheme. Then there's the actual suit itself. Why give the suit a hood if you're going to make it yet another skintight jumpsuit? At least with Carapace, they had more armor to help him resemble a turtle, but there's no excuse here. And finally, the hair. How can you take a girl with a very vibrant hairstyle, make it pink when transforming, cover it up, and then call it a day? There are just so many questionable design choices here. I don't think it's as laughably bad as Shadowmoth's suit, but it's really one of the weakest hero suits to be introduced recently.

I'd give my thoughts on how to improve it, but thankfully one of my anons gave their own ideas for a redesign.

Thank you to whoever sent this in. You certainly get character design better than some of the animators on this show, and that's saying a lot given they're supposedly better than the ones at Pixar.

Ladybug gives Polymouse the ice skate to use as a makeshift flail with her weapon, a jump rope, while she fights the Maledikator clones. Polymouse uses her power, Multitude, which turns her into a swarm of miniature clones to take on the horde of Malediktator clones and free the brainwashed civilians. Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir, but big surprise, Cat Noir gets brainwashed by a Malediktator clone. Sure, Polymouse frees him from the control, but I'm surprised Ladybug isn't more used to this happening by now.

Ladybug then gathers several temp heroes to help them out. She gives Kagami the Dragon Miraculous to become Ryuko, Nino the Turtle to become Carapace, Max the Horse to become Pegasus, and she gives back the Bee Miraculous to the super amazing Zoe so she can once again become the world's greatest superhero, Vesperia. There’s a brief joke where Cat Noir rushes to join the team pose, which could be seen as foreshadowing for future events, and if it is, good job, writers.

Pegasus uses his Voyage to teleport Vesperia above Mega Leech, where she uses her Venom on the Sentimonster, while Ryuko uses her Wind Dragon to gather all the scattered Akumas and Amoks freed by Polymouse for Carapace to trap in his Shelter. Ladybug purifies all the Akumas and Amoks, gives Andre a Magical Charm, tells him to rethink the Oxygen Project, and the heroes leave where Ladybug takes back all their Miraculous.

Back at the park, Andre decides to plant more trees in what's obviously not a desperate attempt to save his reputation. He may say he's doing the right thing, but I doubt investors will be happy that the project's being aborted just like that. We get one more hilarious moment where Marinette stutters around Adrien, who soon goes home and gets sent to his room by his father (because we just needed an Angstdrien Depreste scene this episode for some reason), who fidgets with his ring and stares ominously as the episode ends. And in case you live under a rock, this reignited a certain fan theory I'll be talking about in another post.

Overall, I thought this was a pretty decent episode. The environmentalism subplot was pretty standard for episodes like this, with how the antagonist is a rich asshole who doesn't see how he's harming the environment, and gets his mind changed by a hopeful youth. I'm glad Andre isn't Captain Planet villain levels of evil here, though I am glad the episode acknowledges that there's no single solution to stopping pollution, and that there needs to be more unity if we need to help the planet's situation.

While it had a bumpy first act, things really started to get interesting as soon as the action started. Questionable design aside, I thought Polymouse (who didn't even name herself in the episode) had a good first outing with the use of her powers coupled with the use of the Lucky Charm. The first act with Mylene really showcased her character and her courage in the face of adversity well. Part of me kind of wishes we could have seen her interact with Ivan while she was transformed, but then again, he was still brainwashed I think.

The other heroes honestly felt shoehorned in during the climax. I get that they helped gather all the Akumas and Amoks, but there was really no buildup to them appearing like in other episodes with multiple heroes.

The one major problem I have is how the episode tries to blame Marinette for not being as kind as Mylene because she didn't know about the protest, even though, as I have stated multiple times, SHE ROUTINELY SAVES PARIS EVERY EPISODE. I think that counts as saving the planet.

This episode had some flaws, but it was still pretty enjoyable, and it was one of the better episodes this season so far.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug sugar #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #mylene haprele #polymouse #nino lahiffe #carapace #max kante #pegasus #kagami tsurugi #ryuko #ryuuko #zoe lee #vesperia #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #shadowmoth #shadow moth #andre bourgeois #malediktator #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #queen b

[watevermelon]

Expectations | Shirabu Kenjirou x Reader

✧ Summary: Having attended Shiratorizawa Academy from junior high, you were familiar with most of the students in your year. They were average, nothing special — until a certain vbc setter, from god knows whatever small town junior high he crawled out of, changed up your world. -> Tag: maybe language cause it’s shirabu; fluff and jealousy + slight angst

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Shirabu Kenjirō was a living, breathing pillar of salt. And it was rightly so. He was the friend, the shoulder to cry on, and the person that everyone viewed as reliable. This was not entirely a bad thing, since he was viewed as much more dependable than others. And this idea was not limited to volleyball. But being placed in that category separated him from the very people who put him there. The girls viewed him as, at most, a friend. He was the king and leader of the friend zone.

It was the end of his second-year and he would soon be taking over as captain of the boys’ volleyball team. He justified lack of love life on the fact that he had bigger things to focus on. And after their crushing defeat, Shirabu reasoned that Shiratorizawa needed a focused captain to lead them to victory.

But the road to triumph was… rather lonely.

Shirabu had his team with him one-hundred percent and silently appreciated them for their confidence and own unfailing determination (he won't admit out loud!) But it seemed like he was surrounded by couples. His kouhai, Goshiki Tsutomu, found comfort in another first-year that was a regular on the women's volleyball team. 

Couples were disgusting.

Of course, majority of the members of the male volleyball were single. Ushijima was a super volleyball idiot and his focus seemed to never stray from the sport. But even with his cinnamon roll personality, the female base of Shiratorizawa seemed to flock to him. He was undoubtedly very handsome and tall. His grades were well above average and his fan club was incredibly prominent. Ushijima had all the makings of a great man and was noticed as such by a large pool of the student body. The difference was that Ushijima was willingly single.

Shirabu, deep in the non-explored depths of his heart, wanted to be noticed like his Senpai. When playing volleyball, Shirabu strived to be the type of setter that went by unnoticed and drew out the strength of his ace. And he knew the consequences of such. But still. He was the main setter on a highly prominent team and his skills are not hard to notice.

Maybe it was his rough personality? Pft. He would never change that for a person, no matter how special.

Shirabu was above average height and had amazing grades in a prestigious powerhouse. What wasn’t there to like? His sense of style was trendy and he was complimented on his clothes more than once. He as not too preppy like Goshiki and not too wild like Tendou. Was it his looks? His bangs were unusual, but they weren't as bad as coconut-head/bowl/Goshiki. Since entering adolescence, he failed to ever break-out and was blessed with marvelous clear skin. On more than one occasion, he would stare at the mirror and truly wonder just why.

Why was no one interested?

Enter you.

You attended Shiratorizawa in both middle and high school. Coming from a wealthy family, there was nothing standing in your way. You were fairly popular and had seen the multiple personalities flit through your advanced classes. And in your first-year came Shirabu, an outsider to Shiratorizawa from a lower-class middle school. After being in the system for three-years, you knew almost everyone and seeing a new face was refreshing.

From the very start, you wanted to bet to know him more. But he was incredibly reclusive and mysterious to the general student body. Nobody could answer your questions. Well. Nobody except a certain Salami and volleyball idiot. You shared an advanced statistics class with the two third-year volleyball players in your first year and from them you were able to peer more and more into the life of Shirabu Kenjirō.

“Why do you want to know, (F/N)-chan?” Tendou instigated, “You have a crush on him?”

“Please, Salami calm down.” He raised his hands and gasped, “Come on. There isn’t a single person in this school who I don’t know and suddenly nobody knows anything about him?”

“He is smart and adaptable.” Ushijima chimed in.

“And a little shit, that’s for sure.” Tendou stated. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention back to the statistics teacher. Sure, you wanted to learn more. But this class was hella hard and you still needed good grades. Eventually, you were able to gradually acquire more information and Kenjirō. You learned that he was the only player from the boys’ volleyball team to not get into Shiratorizawa with a sports scholarship. Instead, he got in on his own accord through the arduous exams and good grades.

The more you discovered, the more you liked him.

Shirabu had a work ethic that you hadn't seen in a while. Being in this particular school-system for so long ruined your perception of it. You perceived most of your classmates to have a truly pretentious or judgmental personality, but showing to be as sweet as honey to your face. Of course they wanted to be your friend, who wouldn't with your last name?

He hadn't.

Shirabu was straight-forward with a tongue laced with salt. Sign you the fuck up!

He had no qualms about talking back to you and you looked forward to your daily banter with an odd smile. It was strange. You could get any nice, sweet boy in the whole school. But what was the point if they didn't mean it? Shirabu was honest - a trait that should never be given up, even if it offended others. You would rather have someone give you genuine advice - even if it was mostly mean - rather than an empty friendship.

You had majority of the same classes together for the second year in a row. And you were the only person who would had the immediate desire to sit next to Shirabu as a partner. You silently viewed him as a friend, but there was always this barrier that you could never get over for your friendship to deepen. His time was always dedicated to volleyball. And you did not play any sports anymore.

You watched the volleyball team's crushing defeat to Karasuno and the heartbreak it caused to so many people, Shirabu included. The women's team was resorted to tears and you could not even look at the men for too long. Reon and Semi were so sweet and you wished you could protect them for all the bad in the world. You had never seen Shirabu cry before.

Shirabu... He seemed to only display emotion around his team. And this made sense since those were the people that he was closest too. The rare occasion you had seen his smile was when you had watched a game. They had an overwhelming victory against Johzenji High and you spotted the small grin on Shirabu after he scored the winning point. Your heart could barely take it. You only wished that he showed that side more to you...

He was friendly, but distant enough for you to want more. Shirabu was not cold to you and his harsh chitchat did not hold any true malice behind his words. But he never opened up to you. You wanted to learn more about him personally and if you wanted to, you would have to pry and almost force him to speak. He would give curt answers and then be done with the conversation. But, on more than one occasion, you would spot him typing away on his phone. It was no secret that the boys’ and girls’ volleyball team were fairly close and had a groupchat shared amongst them. You silently wondered if he was texting a girl from the team.

That thought had you instantly deflated and made you wondering if you ever had a chance with Shirabu. You were not one to be easily defeated, but with every brief conversation and blank expression he gave you, you considered giving up altogether. This happened around Valentine’s Day of your first-year. Shirabu was abnormally delighted and even smiled in the classroom at someone’s joke. You figured that sure, it was the day of love and he probably had something lined up for himself and his significant other – that was why he was so happy. And it hurt your heart. He smiled, but it was never because of you.

From there forward, you tended to avoid him to evade the imminent heartache every time you saw him. This was hard since you literally sat next to each other in most classes, but something entirely doable. You would leave the classroom immediately after class, show up right before it started, and not initiate conversation. It was always you that had previously opened up discussion, so when you had stopped there was little to none at all.

Shirabu caught up to your change and silently questioned it. On multiple occasions, you would catch him observing you from the corner of your eye and you silently hoped he would not question you outloud. Within a week, he was ready to corner you.

You were at your locker right after class, ready to pack-up and head over to photography club. He was silently bounding towards you and when you closed the locker he was standing right-there before your eyes.

“Did I do something to offend you?” He asked the moment your locker closed.

“No…” You stated haphazardly, clutching your backpack.

“You’re never his quiet or shy.” He noted, “Did something else happen?”

“I have to get to photography club…” Shirabu put his arm on the locker and blocked your exit. He was tall and there was no way you could out-run him, you were trapped.

“Don’t lie. We know it starts in twenty-minutes. You might be on the executive board, but you have a lot of time.” He sighed out, locking to the ceiling and then back to you. “Why are you ignoring me?”

“… Am I your friend, Shirabu?”

“Of course.” He did not hesitate to answer. “And it’s Kenjirō.”

“What?”

“Call me by my first name.”

“Oh.” You paused and let the name roll of your tongue, “Then you should call me by my first name too, Kenjirō-kun.” His eyes widened at the added suffix and a rosy dust covered his cheeks.

“Was that it?” He asked, “Come on, (F/N). That’s an immature reason to ignore me.”

“How was I supposed to know?” You questioned, “It never seems like you actually want to talk to me.”

“I’m talking to you now.”

“Outside of this!” You were beyond frustrated, “Ugh I’m fine now go away.” You lightly pushed his arm, but he did not budge.

“As if that would convince me.”

“You are so annoying.” You commented, “You never initiated conversation. I thought I was just bothering you.”

His gaze on you softened and you could not break the eye-contact, “You’re an idiot.” He teased and then ruffled your hair. That was the first time he had ever done physical-contact with you and you almost exploded then and there.

“I’m an idiot?” You repeated before walking away mid-sentence, “I’m hoping you treat your girlfriend better.”

He paused and let us hand drop down to grab your elbow before you go away. “Girlfriend? Where did this come up?”

“I thought…” Shit, you let that thought slip out-loud, “The men and women volleyball teams are close. And I’ve only ever seen you hang-out outside of class with them and those girls. I just assume...”

“You assumed wrong.” He quickly cut-off, “Ugh. What am I going to do with you?” He asked as he grabbed you into a hug. You returned the affection and you knew that a blush must have stained your face! And what was that question?

Shirabu continued, “So was that the real problem? You were jealous of my supposed ‘girlfriend?’” He laughed at his question and you were going to die from his smile. God it was so rare and you wished he graced you with it more!

“No! Don’t get too ahead of yourself!” You yelled back, but it was muffled against his chest. He leaned back to see your face and teased you for your embarrassed expression.

“You’re an idiot.” He laughed again.

Since then, your friendship with Kenjirō was gradually improving. But it seemed that there was this silent barrier that you could not overcome. You could talk about your problems, but not about his. And since then, he had not initiated any physical contact. If you ever brushed hands or simply leaned against him, he should shift away and pretend it never happened! Did you really make any progress?

Finals were coming up and that was giving you one last chance to spend time with Shirabu before the end of the schoolyear. Sure, you could always ask your father and he had the power to put you two in the same class again next year - But! Did you want to waste your last year together pinning after him?

Your study group was comprised of yourself, Shirabu, Kawanishi, and two people from his class. Kawanishi was in Class 5, which was also advanced, but he was so damn lazy! You saw his potential and only wished that he tried harder and quit fucking around.

The three other members of the group were missing that night and the two of you were left alone to grovel over English. Your English was better than Shirabu’s but the opposite could be said about history. You paired each other well and aided the other's faults.

You commented on this once jokingly, saying, "You complete me!" He simply rolled his eyes and brushed it off before continuing to study.

Damn. This boy cannot take a hint.

You attempted to show the boy your advances. But it seemed Shirabu would shut you down at every try, almost like he knew what you were doing and was firmly against it. A part of you considered backing down. He had made his intentions clear for two straight-years, maybe you should not waste another year on someone who obviously does not want your attention?

That thought last for a second before you waved it off. There was no one else you were even remotely interested in. If he said no, that’s fine. But you were probably not going to peruse anyone else.

Both you and Shirabu were spacing out from over-reading the textbook and happened to make eye contact. "What's on your mind?" You asked.

"Things you cannot understand."

"You really think that low of me?"

"No. I'm going to be the captain of the volleyball team in a few weeks."

"Wow."

"There's no way your pampered ass would get it."

"You think about my ass?" You teased, but he pretended to ignore the question. You spent enough time with him to notice the minute narrowing of his eyes and the slight curve in the corner of his left lip.

Damn, this boy had you bad.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Kenjirō." You comforted, "You're very smart and reliable. I believe that your training won't betray you."

"Reliable..." He murmured. "That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"What do you mean?"

He scoffed at your question, "Exactly. You won't understand."

"Then explain it to me!" You exclaimed.

"Why should I?" He seemed just as inflamed.

"Because I care about you! You big, dumb, idiot!"

Shirabu paused before fully looking at you, surprise evident. "Well, everyone expects this idiot to be reliable and lead the team. But..."

"But...?"

"That's all that people expect from me. To be the smart one. To live to everyone's expectations and shoulder the border of living up to the name ''powerhouse.'" He was getting more agitated and louder with each word.

"Woah, calm down."

"I can't calm down! In a few weeks, I'll lose the ace that I've admired for years and majority of our regular team! How am I supposed to fill in their shoes when we're losing one of the top 3 spikers in the country?"

You had no shame in grabbing his chin and turning his full attention to you. "Listen here you idiot. Don't interrupt me! I said don't! I stopped sports, but I know this is something entirely inevitable. Your senpai's are moving onto the next phase of their lives, but it's not something you can stop or change. You have to accept the future and make the most out of it and I know you will. Shiratorizawa is not the only school with graduation. Your rivals and others will lose their precious third-years and its then will you be able to analyze them and attack. But you need to calm the fuck down."

Shirabu was hanging onto every word. Nodding at some parts and fully taking in what you were trying to convey. At the end of your speech, he pushed your hands away from his face with a slight rosy dust on his cheeks. No woman, outside of his mother, had ever done that to him before.

"You're a real pain, (F/N)." he started, "But thanks. I needed that."

"No problem, I just want you to know that I can be here for you." You extended your hand to cover his own on the desk.

His eyes latched onto your hand before he averted his gaze and attempted to pull his hand away. You kept a tight enough grip to keep it in place, but not enough to hurt. "Must you touch me so much?"

"You are such a tsundere, oh my god." You commented, "Of course, I had to like you."

He stilled and looked directly into your eyes, as if that would confirm your previous statement. "Are you really that surprised?" You asked. "You're really handsome and you have the type of personality that I find most attractive."

"Tsundere?" He joked.

"No. You're honest." You admitted, "You're not like the rest of them, who only see dollar signs when they see me. You've roasted my ass multiple times in class and I wouldn't have it any other way. You say the truth and don't sugar-coat your words for anyone."

"I like you." You simply stated. You watched the words seem to finally reach something in his mind and at this point he seemed to panic. He pulled his hand away and you did not hide your outward hurt. Shirabu made a lame excuse and quickly packed up his stuff to leave.

You never felt more sad and alone.

XXXXX

Shirabu was freaking the fuck out. He wanted someone to notice him and it had to be you??? You were beautiful and nearly perfect in every way. Your beauty went beyond the physical level and you were blessed with intelligence and an even greater family tree.

None of this mattered to him before. You were his friend and classmate and probably the one person in class who did not endlessly irritate him. How could you possibly have feelings for him? He didn't deserve you, not a bit. He had an endless list of faults, including his knowingly sarcastic personality, and you were the friendliest person in school! No way. You could be happier with literally anyone else.

He could not deny all your positive traits, even though he made an effort to ridicule you. You were an overall amazing person and he could not deny his latent crush on you. But he had squashed it since your friendship was mostly comprised of friendly banter. You could never have feelings for him, he previously thought. So he would rather treasure your friendship and watch you from the sideline.

However, Shirabu had to admit that it was a dick move of him just to leave you there after your confession. He was usually the type to speak his mind and your feelings must have blinded his brain. He set-out to clear the air and admit why.

In class the next day, you were nowhere to be found and refused to respond to calls and texts. Seeing you so affected, Shirabu could not help but feel like a huge ass. He owed you big-time, but he had to start somewhere: an apology. Shirabu had to clear the air and make it known that he appreciated your affections, even if he had to deny them. He was not above annoying you and did such continually.

Knocking on your dorm room, he showed up right at your front door.

Shirabu heard movement inside, but not closer to the door. He called your phone again and heard the ringtone go off from within, just for you to mute it. He knocked about eleven more times before you opened the door.

"What do you want?!" You asked as you swung the door open with full force.

"To clear the misunderstanding, (F/N)."

"God, you are so annoying. Did you know that?"

"You are too. Now hear me out, you crazy."

"Excuse me?!"

"Please." You sighed and moved aside for him to enter and he did such. He uncharacteristically took your hand and guided you to sit-down on your bed.

He paused, as if to fully think about his words, before sitting next to you. "You need someone who has time for you."

"What?"

"I'll be the captain soon and I do not want to disappoint anyone. I'll be busy and unable to be the proper boyfriend."

"Is that your only complaint to this relationship?"

"No."

"What else?"

"You deserve someone who can make you happy."

You gave a small laughed and asked, "Who says you don't already make me happy?"

He stared at your for a moment before asking, "What?"

"I don't want someone who you think will make me happier with kind words or bullshit. I want someone honest." You candidly admitted, "And we are friends already. I know you're dedicated to volleyball and I don't want that to change. I already know how you are and that’s why I like you more than anyone else. You alone can make me happy. For someone smart, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sputtered, unable to give a cohesive reply and for once you saw be great Shirabu struggle over his usually articulate words.

"Wait." You realized that he had multiple complaints about this relationship before you interrupted him. "Just be straight with me. Do you have feelings for me?"

It was at this moment that Shirabu had the clearest view of you. You were in the closest proximity than ever before, sharing a seat on your bed! He could gaze clearly into your eyes and sense the distress and vulnerability from your previous words. He stretched the silence and you took that as a rejection. He immediately rectified the situation by grabbing your hand and placing a light kiss at the top.

"I never thought you were interested in me." He admitted, "I thought I was deep in the friend zone. So I would have rather kept your friendship than risked ruining it."

"You're an idiot." You smiled grabbing his wrist to pull him closer. He obliged and allowed you to place a light kiss on his cheek.

"Now will you be my boyfriend or will I have to convince you?" You whispered in his ear to tease him and could literally see the shiver go down his back as he stiffened.

When you pulled away, his eyes were half-lidded and you silently wondered if his dominant attitude translated romantically.

You didn't have to wonder long since he returned the favor and went even further, nibbling your ear lightly before placing butterfly kisses around your neck. "Maybe you'll have to convince me."

You laughed before wrapping your arms around his neck, quickly taking command and enveloping his lips against your's. However, you did not have it for long and the setter was quick to flip the positions and hover over you. He gave one his rare smiles and you felt one breaking out across you'rs, stretching from ear to ear. Shirabu, who was in no rush, descended back down to your silky lips - noses bumping and hands fisting into each other's hair. His grip was firm, but not tight enough to hurt. You moaned, unintentionally, and he took that as an invitation to lick the entrance to your cavern. You parted your lips quickly, eager to feel his tongue against yours. The rest of the day went by ignored, the two of you enveloped in each other's affection with not a single care in the world.

#shiratorizawa #shirabu #shirabu kenjirou #shirabu kenjirō #shirabu kenjiro x reader #shirabu x reader #shirabu x y/n #shirabu x you #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu headcanon #hq x you #reader insert #hq scenarios #hq imagine #hq headcanons #hq headcanon #Ushijima Wakatoshi #semi eita #kawanishi taichi #shiratorizawa x reader #shirabu smau #hq #haikyuu!! x you #haikyuu!! #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x you #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines

[taehoneys]

Bad Guy | JJK ft. KTH (M)

A certain video circulates the school after your big mistake and you never do mistakes, but you did this time… a big one: J e o n J u n g k o o k

— Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Taehyung

— Genre: Drama

— AU(s): College!AU Fratboy!AU

— Warnings: Fingering, Oral, choking, all kinds of sex, okay? Oh, and sometimes it's unprotected.

— Word Count: 4.6k

— Note: This is the first actual fic that I will post to Tumblr! I’m nervous/excited. I hope you enjoy it. 

PLAYLIST ♪ | MASTERLIST | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR

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01; I'm the Bad Guy

Jeon Jungkook.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t heard that name before. Of course you have… The campus was big, but rumors had it that Jeon Jungkook was bigger. Harder, better, faster, stronger weren’t just four words Jungkook was known for saying, they were four words he was praised for delivering. Oh how girls would die to squirm under Jungkook’s touch, to be taken to a place only he could take you, and he knew that. Jungkook knew he had girls at the palm of his hand (which is how he got himself in the palm of theirs).

Every single one of them too. He wanted to give every girl a chance, which is why he never gave anyone a second taste. “What about the others?” He would justify himself, “I have to be fair.” Which is why Jungkook was not only a bad guy, but a bad idea.  Especially if you were going to fall in love that easy, Jeez. I guess it’s just easier for everyone to hope they could be the one to change him. Which explains why many girls flock to his frat parties just for the chance to be plucked from the crowd.

Sex is one hell of a drug. Be careful who you give it to, Jeon. Many would show up, but few were given a special invitation. One meant that you were basically good enough for him and would let you bypass the long line stretching outside the house. The reason it was so long wasn’t just because of the girls, but also because of all the eager (and horny) guys trying to get in to be an unlucky girl’s shoulder to cry on or their drunk one night stand.

But they had to be cautious of their choice.

The Beta Tau Sigma frat house was nicknamed “The Fratican” which fit perfectly because it was run like a total monarchy with Jungkook as the head. On the contrary, there was nothing holy about Jungkook. He only held as much influence as the pope in that house. You see, no one was allowed to ever touch the girls that Jungkook had set his eyes on. It was as serious as being banned permanently from the house and even being kicked out of the brotherhood; After all, bros before hoes (unless, you were Mr. Jeon Jungkook).

So yes, you’ve heard more than enough of Jungkook to decide you didn’t like him at all. Which explains how you ended up with an invite in your hands this morning after your Economics lecture, the course you happened to share with Jungkook.  Every time Jungkook attempted to answer a question and it was wrong, you would immediately correct him from the other side of the room, and Jungkook almost got every question wrong.

“Name one of the explanations for the law of demand.” The teacher directed the question at Jungkook, giving him a chance to redeem himself after the last few failures.

Jungkook tapped his pencil against the desk, indicating he was already pissed off from getting the previous questions wrong.

“Umm, okay…Number of consumers ? More people want a product so demand all moves up?”

Your hand immediately shot up causing Jungkook to drop his pencil, and shut his eyes in annoyance as he bit down hard on his lip.

The teacher smiled your way and gave you permission to explain your answer with a nod.

“That doesn’t explain the law of demand. That’s just one of the shifters of demand. Law of demand is the relationship price has on quantity of demand. So for example, the law of diminishing marginal utility is one of the reasons for the downward curve of demand. As more people get a taste of a product, their satisfaction is sure to diminish. So people will only demand more of the product at a cheaper price.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you, catching a bit of what you were trying to tell him.

“Oh I get it now. Kind of like Income effect. You know, where a product is only worth desiring because it’s cheap and easy for the poorer people to get.”

You had a feeling you guys weren’t talking about supply and demand anymore by the way Jungkook kept his eyes narrowed onto you. You just narrowed yours back.

“Well, I’m more than amazed to see two students passionately debating in my class for once. However—to sum things up—Your first answer was wrong Jungkook and Y/N was correct, but I’m glad that she was able to straighten that all out for you. Now remember class assignment 2-4…. ”

With a “hmph” you close your notebook and start to pack up, completely satisfied. All the while, you know Jungkook is staring at you. When you look his way, he’s got his jaw clenched and the grip on his pencil is so tight that the vein on his arm has become prominent.  By the looks of it, If you were any closer, you were sure he’d chuck it at you.

You thought that that the battle zone would only limit itself to the lecture hall, but as soon as everyone started leaving you caught Jungkook throwing himself over the lecture seats until he was in the row you were in, heading your way. You cursed at the long line preventing you from making a quick escape. Just when you were at the exit, Jungkook had made it right to your side.  You held your breath, waiting for him to say something to you, but he didn’t. Instead, he bumped harshly against your shoulder before pushing past you. Seriously?

It wasn’t until you were hanging in the quad with your friends that you received the invite.

Jungkook was across the quad at first. He was crowded among his frat brothers, guys that wanted to be them and girls that wanted to do them. He wasn’t paying attention to them though because his eyes were drilling into yours. You struck a nerve inside him in the lecture hall. Were you trying to get noticed by him? Was that it? No, you clearly didn’t like him. But you didn’t even know him and he never did anything to you. All you knew were whatever rumors circulated around campus about him. So whatever happened to common courtesy?

Pushing past everyone (and earning an eyebrow raise from his best friend, Taehyung), he walked straight your way. Taehyung watched, stretching the gum in his mouth until he was able to blow a bubble. Once it popped, he pushed off the edge of the wall and followed Jungkook over, curious to why he was heading over towards those in Gamma Psi Alpha. Gamma Psi Alpha wasn’t a social fraternity like Beta Tau Sigma. They were a professional co-ed fraternity. Scratch that: They were an elite, professional fraternity.

Jungkook stopped right in front of you and your other friends. Taehyung and the rest lined up beside him. This caused everyone to fall silent as the tension built up with the meeting of the fraternities. Jungkook’s eyes carefully scanned your other friends, reading the three letters on some of their shirts before settling back onto you.

‘Oh, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?“

He threw the invitation to your friend group as a joke. All because you got on his bad side. "Be a little less boring and let loose, why don’t you?” He whispered into your ear hotly before storming away with his posse.  It angered you, entirely.  The way he assumed that you didn’t know how to have fun and that you were this goody two-shoes who followed every rule just because you were a little smart? Or did he assume that any girl that didn’t want him was just as uninteresting as their disinterest for him? Oh, you were going to this party. And you were planning to show him that he was the one beneath you.

So how did you end up beneath him?

Why were you letting him hover over you? Undressing you, button by button? Caressing your sides and gripping your thighs? And what exactly was making the room spin? Was it the alcohol or the way his tongue ran up the side of your ear as his fingers worked their way inside you?

The moans wanted to come out of your mouth, but you wouldn’t let them.  You had to bite down hard on your lip as your hand traveled down to wrap around Jungkook’s wrist, your mind and your body conflicted. He raised an eyebrow at you because for a second he thought you wanted to stop. Yet he didn’t, so he quickly inserted his second digit into you. As he scissored his fingers apart, your grip would loosen more and more.

You hated the way he was looking at you. Head tilted and chin up, but eyes down and dangerous. It was the spark that started the fire inside of you and by the way his lips curled into a cocky grin, he knew that.

His fingers started rubbing your warmth and his mouth watered as his fingers coated with your wetness. “Such a pretty little cunt.” Jungkook panted slightly as his fingers rubbed faster into you, causing you to lift your hips in an attempt to have them deeper into you. You cursed yourself for acting so desperate and so willing. Pressing your lips tightly together, you kept your whines within. The least you could do for yourself was not give him the satisfaction of hearing the way he drove you crazy.

“C'mon give me something.” Jungkook growled, leaning over you slightly as he began to thrust his fingers into you harshly. You gasped loudly and you jerked upright to grab onto his flexed bicep in an attempt to slow him down. It only made him pump faster into you as he challenged you with his eyes.

“J-Jung-” Your breath hitched inside your throat as you drew up your eyes to meet his.

He leaned in close to your face, tilting his head as his nose brushed against yours. “Hmm? What is it, good girl?”

You frowned, but before you could even open your mouth to give him lip, Jungkook’s thumb began to lazily play with your clit as his fingers returned to rub you, making you’re body under his control again.

“F-Fuck!” You fell back onto your back and let out all the moans you’ve kept trapped inside of you. Fuck Jungkook and fuck Jungkook. You were supposed to fuck him up good not fuck him real good.  You reach for the pillow on the bed and cover your face to scream into it because Jungkook was using two hands and he was using them to make a mess out of you.

Jungkook didn’t like that though. He angrily yanked the pillow from your grip and growled, “I want to fucking hear you…because I’m about to make you beg, good girl.”

You rolled your head over, gripping onto the sheets, completely flushed as Jungkook played with you. With each strum of Jungkook’s thumb against your clit, you would buck your hips into the air.

The pleasure was building inside of you and you felt like you couldn’t take it anymore. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” you chanted as you gripped onto the bed sheets tighter. You felt your muscles tensing and you sat straight up immediately, pulling Jungkook’s face close to yours as you stared at him, flushed and flustered to the core.

His mouth parted and he released an unstable breath as he continued to pump his fingers into you— harder and faster. You were about to kiss him, but chose the safer alternative to bury your face against his neck as you let out one long moan, giving into the pressure and pleasure exploding within you. Until you came back from the clouds, you rode his slender fingers out.

Only then did you realize where exactly you two had stumbled into. You had somehow made it all the way up to his room, not even far enough to cancel out the music or stop the bass from vibrating though the walls. Although, Jungkook had attempted to drown it out with his own music coming from the smart speaker on his nightstand. The only lighting available in the room came from the LED strip bordering his ceiling. It allowed you to see just enough of Jungkook in this moment. This crazy moment.

You slowly opened your eyes, still trying to catch your breath, to see that Jungkook was merely centimeters away. His fringe fell over his eyes and all you could see was his mouth which twitched into a big, tipsy grin. “You’re so fucking sexy.”  He tugged on his bottom lip and tipped his head back before he stopped leaning over you. You’re eyes dropped down to watch his hands, which hooked at the hem of your panties still hanging around your thighs and pulled them down to your ankles. You looked up at Jungkook and he cocked an eyebrow at you, letting you know that up next was your move and your choice.

You kicked them off with your other foot and then looked back at him. Jungkook then wasted no time in pushing you to lay down on your back, letting you then watch as he yanked the shirt over his head, his hair ruffling back down to place after it was completely off. His hands quickly worked at his belt before unbuttoning his jeans and then pulling them down slightly to reveal his bulge.

Just staring at it was enough to tell you the rumors weren’t just rumors. He grabbed your hand and guided it to the hem of his boxers. You nervously bit your lip as you slowly started to tug them down, not ready to confirm the rumors yourself. When you pulled them down far enough, his hard-on sprung out of his boxers, revealing not only that it was ready, but that it was aching.  You weren’t going to lie, You had seen dicks his size before, but his girth outshines them all (or maybe he was just that turned on by you?).

You licked your lips and quickly got on your knees. You pushed all your hair over one shoulder before wrapping your hand around his member. Jungkook let out a long “shiiiit”  at the sight as he pulled down his boxers and pants further, giving you room to make it as sloppy and messy as your heart desired.

You licked your lips before taking him into your mouth, your tongue laying flat as it traveled underneath his penis. You made sure to rub your tongue against him every time you took him out of your mouth. Humming, you let him know you were more than pleased to get a taste of him. Jungkook leaned back on his hands, rolling his head back as you started to let your tongue explore every bit of him, swirling and swirling.

You took a peek up at him and one look was all it took for you to know that the way you were performing fellatio was driving him insane. Jungkook had his bottom lip nipped between his teeth to gate his moans. With every raise of his hips, he inserted himself further into your mouth and you took it.  In fact, you took him even deeper down your throat, finally earning a “F-fuck!” from Jungkook.

Jungkook fell completely on his back, fixing his legs straight out from underneath him where he was able to kick off his jeans completely. Running his hand through his hair, he combed back the waves to get a little cool relief.

This time that you put his dick back into your mouth, you hallow your cheeks and bob your head up and down, moving the foreskin to his pleasure. Jungkook hisses and his hand immediately shoots up to grip your hair tightly. Purring, you let him know how much you enjoy the rough treatment. It gave you confidence to continue; which you do steadily, trying not to mess up the rhythm you have going because all the “Ah"s coming from Jungkook turn you on more.

Jungkook wasn’t afraid to be vocal. He just wanted you to work for the grunts and moans, but now that he let out a few, he just let them all rush out. They came in tiny grunts at first, but as you continued stroking his dick with your mouth, he couldn’t help but let out whines and mewls. It drove you absolutely crazy and you felt wet all over again. With one long hiss, Jungkook pulled you back by your hair, making you look at him.

You ran your tongue across your swollen lips, slowly. It directed his attention to your mouth and he became entranced by it, bringing you up for a closer look. You gladly crawled over him, never breaking the eye contact coming form his sultry eyes. He dropped his gaze back down to your lips, but you didn’t dare move closer to him. Not even when he brushed his nose against yours, his very breath tickling your lips as he picked up his head to bring his own closer.

Yet, he didn’t kiss you and you weren’t going to kiss him either. It was like he wanted you to dive in for the kiss, just so he can cockily reply "no kissing allowed” and he definitely wasn’t going to kiss you first because that would make him seem too compliant. So, instead, he smirked as his lips ghostly brushed against yours, traveling across your cheek until his head abruptly fell back onto the pillow because you had just guided his dick inside of you.

The feeling of fucking finally spread to your core as you sunk down his dick, his dick burrowing further and further, stretching you out as it struggled to entire deep into your warmth. You scrunch up your face as you throb from the pain, afraid to take him too suddenly. “You’re so fucking tight,” Jungkook groans as he throws his head back. You whine slightly, pushing your hips down so his dick can burrow entirely in your warmth. You weren’t a virgin, he was just meaty. The pain quickly fades and you feel flutters inside your stomach, pleased with how full you felt. It caused you to clench a couple times around his cock. The feeling itself good enough to make you forget to move (which a quick slap to the ass from Jungkook’s impatient ass fixed).

“Fuck, it’s soo thick,” You complimented him as you began to glide yourself up and down his glorious length. “How can I take all of it?”

Jungkook’s mouth parted, his hands firmly grabbing your hips to support you as you rode him. “Keep talking like that.” Jungkook ordered, making you recognize that dirty talk was a turn on to him.

You weren’t one for dirty talk, but something about Jungkook made you want to tell him how much you were enjoying him being inside you. “Fuck, It’s sooo good, you’re so good…mm I want you to fuck me good… make me cum aaallll over this good cock,” You moaned the words as you gyrated your hips up and down. Jungkook’s eyes darkened and he slapped your ass, earning a yelp from you.

“Such dirty words coming from such a good girl~”  Jungkook grabs your hips and starts meeting you halfway, rapidly thrusting.

“Oh fuck!” You still so Jungkook can take over momentarily, his hips snapping up against yours as his dick forces deeper and deeper. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You chant, losing air. Jungkook had no intention of slowing down and you didn’t really want him to. He was pounding into you over and over and you were starting to come apart. If he didn’t stop, he was going to break you. Your hands fall onto his chest, needing support from his forceful entries.

“Shit,” He curses as he breathes heavy. The heat was rising between you two so much that Jungkook started to slow down, the sweat on his forehead letting you know he had exhausted himself, so you pick up where he left off.

“Mmm,” You let out satisfied sighs each time you sink back so Jungkook’s dick strikes you center again and again. Leaning more over him, you move your hands to rest on the bed. This allows you to have more control of your ass, bouncing it up and down so much that Jungkook can’t help but wrap his strong arm around your thigh. He sets his hand on your ass and grips onto it so he can pull you into him with each ride.

“You feel so fucking good. Oh, fuck. You’re pussy’s so tight.” Jungkook compliments you and you reward him by gripping onto the headboard so you could bounce on his dick. Bringing down your hips, You smile with pleasure, lolling your head to the side as you land on his dick in the perfect spot. You like this position because it also gives Jungkook a view of himself disappearing inside you. Jungkook grunts, mesmerized with watching how his entire length can’t fit inside you.

Getting a bit tired, you decide to rest your hands back onto the bed, throwing it back to his dick, the bed creaking louder with your fast pace. “Ohhh…” You sigh pleasurably as you continue to work on getting Jungkook to his climax. You didn’t know if he was close or not, but you could care less at this point. Jungkook just felt that fucking good inside of you. So you were more than happy to meet him halfway in his thrusts, this tingling sensation coursing through you. By the way Jungkook’s grip tightened on your ass, you were doing a good job in getting him to orgasm.

“Oh fuck~” Jungkook grinned briefly, eyes closing as he was overcome with bliss. Your continuous sharp inhales were pushing him to the edge and he had to wrap his other arm around you, completely wrapping his arms around your ass so the thrusts were smaller, but remained deeper.

“Be a good girl and don’t cum when I haven’t cum,” Jungkook grunts as he stares up at you, chest heaving. You nod your head and keep moving fast against him, tired but eager to unravel him. He continues to breathe heavy as you keep moving fast against him, your inhales become shorter and shorter apart while his grunts become deeper.

“Just a little more, not yet.” Jungkook growled.

You started to whine, already wanting to find your release before his. “Fuck, I’m going to-” You’re breath hitches and you gasp, clenching around him uncontrollably, vision filling with tiny moving dots.

“Fuck,” He hisses as he helps you ride him out during your orgasm. Just as you gravitated back, Jungkook surprised you by quickly thrusting back into you.  This time, his breathing was getting louder and more intense. Every “fuck” out of his mouth revealing how desperate he was for his own release.

You moan loudly for him. Every thrust grows rougher and desperate, your breasts bouncing for Jungkook’s gratification. He concentrates on how you look: your baby hair curled from the sweat on your forehead, eyes shut, and mouth agape. It’s a beautiful sight for him and it doesn’t take him much before he feels the surge and immediately shouts, “Get off!”

He pulls your hips up and takes his dick out of you to then shoot out ribbons of cum. Every pulse of his cock shoots it out further, accidentally aiming at your face.  Mouth open and tongue out, you attempt to catch some of it and with the help of Jungkook directing his nut into your mouth, you do.

He tilts his head back and grits his teeth as he contains the grunts, until finally he’s done and it’s just you two breathing heavily in the room. You don’t wait long enough for things to get awkward and you quickly get off of him to then sit on the bed. You hear him reach over to his nightstand where he opens the drawer to take out a couple of baby wipes. You mentally roll your eyes because of course he’s prepared. He hands you a couple and you take them to wipe yourself before sitting back on the bed where you tuck your hair behind your ear as you stare at your clothes on the floor. It’s hot, like really hot in the room and you dread putting your clothes back on, but what other choice did you have?

You stand, accidentally stumbling into the nightstand. “Shit,” you mutter as you try to gain enough balance to pick up your clothes from the floor. The whole time, you could feel Jungkook’s eyes on you, but you don’t dare look his way, concentrating on only the task of putting your clothes back on.

“You didn’t kiss me,” Jungkook clicks his tongue. Peaking at him, you see he’s comfortably in bed, hands behind his head with only his boxers put back on.

“Why would I?” You roll your eyes at him as you button up your pants.

“Most girls would try.” Jungkook throws a playful grin your way.

Try. So you were correct in assuming that Jungkook didn’t allow kissing. That wasn’t the only word that caught your attention though. You glide your tongue over your teeth before shrugging his way, “Well, I’m not like most girls. All I wanted was a good fuck and I got it.”

You didn’t mean to default back to being a bitch towards Jungkook, but what he said was just so cocky. By saying “most girls” he basically viewed you as one of his girls. So seeing his face fall after your snarky remark was a bit satisfying. You may have crawled into his bed like the other girls, but you weren’t going to try and get more out of it like the others probably begged to.

Grabbing your keys from the nightstand, you turned to him with a little wave, “So don’t worry. I won’t be making this mistake again, Bad guy.”

His eyebrows twitched, coming together into a frown, and the way he cocked his head told you a confusing thought had entered his mind. Though, before he could say anything else, you left his room, diving back through the crowd until you were completely out of his frat house, vowing to never enter again and do the same mistake, because that’s what Jungkook was—a mistake.

As you walked to your car, you tried to make sense of Jungkook’s expression. Was he actually hurt by what you said? Maybe you were just feeling bad for no reason. After all, it’s Jungkook you were talking about and it was you we were talking about. You two were very different. The fraternities you were in were an example of that. Jungkook cared about blasting his years at college parties and creating a social reputation. You cared about your academic record and your respected reputation. In the end, Jungkook was right. You were nothing more than a good girl.

And you will always be a good girl…

Before opening your car door, you turned to look over your shoulder. You draw up your eyes to the window on the second floor where you catch the shadows of two people behind the curtain. The gentle breeze does you a favor and moves the curtain briefly, enough for you to see the two people wrapped around each other in the room. You roll your eyes and get into your car.

… and you guess Jeon Jungkook will always be a bad guy.

__________________________

Note: Wow, what a chapter! It took me like 4 days to write this, but I hope it was a thick chapter /WINK/ Let me know.

NEXT CHAPTER >

#Jungkook Smut #BTS smut #Jeon Jungkook #Jungkookxreader #jeon jeongguk #fratboy!jk #fratboy jungkook #college au #jungkook college au #jungkook fanfic #jungkookff #taehoneys

[mermaidsirennikita]

bridgerton--the good, the bad, the ugly

The short of it: Bridgerton excellently captures the tone of Regency romance novels and offers a lot of escapism and great sex scenes, but could definitely use some serious work in terms of how it depicts race and it should have made some further alterations to the dated and flawed source material.  Definitely loved a lot of it and am hotly anticipating the second season, but I want to see more work done and I HOPE that this encourages the adaptation of better (and less inherently flawed) romance novels.

Now for the longer take.

The Good

Bridgerton depicted sex and romance in a way that is totally different from anything I’ve seen in period dramas, for sure, but possibly different from anything I’ve seen on TV.  The romance of it all was woven into almost every aspect of the show. There is the handsome and seemingly severe but extravagantly wealthy and sexually adept duke sweeping into town.  The (multiple) rakes who just want to have fun while also being hot messes.  The awakening of female sexuality and the copious use of the female gaze.  (Note the pretty modest and minimal focus on female nudity, while we get plenty of lingering shots on Simon.).  People want love!  There is pretty minimal violence and perhaps the most physically violent scene involves Simon beating a man up because HE IMPEACHED DAPHNE’S HONOR~.

The sex scenes themselves focused on Daphne’s pleasure for the most part, and were probably among the best I’ve seen since Outlander in terms of chemistry, in terms of the visuals, in terms of focus on sex as an act of emotional connection and FUN. Yes, there was some Unlikely Vaginal Orgasming, but we also saw Simon tell Daphne about masturbation.  On the wedding night, he was pretty clearly touching her to help her enjoy it.  He ate her out... a good bit.  

And aside from that, we got all of the grand speeches, the stolen glances and touches, an excellent buildup of sexual tension that led to some pretty hilarious moments.  

I also really enjoyed many of the performances on this show.  Rege-Jean and Phoebe had great chemistry and excellent back and forth.  Jonathan was a GREAT Anthony.  I would argue that as lackluster as I found his relationship with Siena (more on that in a minute) it largely existed as a way to set him up for his romance with Kate.  He now has even more of a reason to be down with love, as opposed to solely relying on a kind of flimsy tragic backstory.  Additionally, his overprotectiveness of Daphne added tension to the story and made him a source of comedic relief for me?  I loved it.  Give me disaster Anthony all day; can’t wait until he falls to the enemies to lovers trope just like Simon fell to his FLAW-FREE fake dating plan.

A lot of the changes I found were really good.  Obviously, it was important that the show incorporated greater diversity (though they need way more).  Benedict was INFINITELY more fun and interesting than he was in the novels, and acted as another standout for me.  As much as I hate Portia Featherington, I think that the elevation of her to a proper villainess is probably necessary and Polly Walker excels at those types of roles, though they need to maybe have her be less like, actively racist.  I adored the addition of Queen Charlotte; she was excellent comic relief.  Lady Danbury’s expanded role and relationship to Simon was one of the best moves they made.  It touched my entire soul.

Buuuut....

The Bad

The show needs to work on casting more men that are frankly on Rege-Jean’s level.  It feels a bit awkward to see a guy that is by most people’s standards kind of stunning and then.... Colin looks twelve.  Lord Philip is like... a farm guy.  Get rid of the sideburns, we’re in romance novel territory.

In the same note, the girl who played Siena wasn’t a great actress and wasn’t super stunning, so even though I’m fine with her being a placeholder....  Eh.  Go for better casting.  The woman playing Madame Delacroix would’ve played that role so much better and I really enjoyed her dynamic with Benedict because she was just fun.

Frankly, I don’t know what the fuck they’re going to do to make me want to watch Penelope and Colin fall in love.  Their book was already a bit basic--fun, but far from revolutionary.  I don’t really get why they would receive attention similar to that of Kate and Anthony, basically.  The issue is that Colin, again, looks and sound rather young and twerpy.  It obviously wasn’t great for him to be tricked into raising another man’s child, but.... For fuck’s sake, how much would that have affected his life on a practical level.  He’d never know unless he was told, thanks to the lack of DNA tests.  He was marrying far out of his league in terms of attractiveness.  He’s a rich white guy in England with a supportive family.  

I really disliked the fact that Colin told Marina in his huffy little tantrum that he would have married her anyway--because would you have, buddy?  Really?  The thing is that Marina had no way of knowing that and her entire life (and the reputations of her cousins) was on the line.  She didn’t know if she could trust Colin to keep her secret.  They barely knew each other.  He basically came off as a whiny child and I’m fine with him staying in Greece if that’s the plan.

Penelope was just... psychotic.  And that was really disappointing, because I love Nicola and would love to have loved to see the fat girl get her sexy love story.  But first off, lol, it wouldn’t have been sexy because Colin was miscast.  Second, she basically tried to destroy Marina’s life and that of her sisters?  And herself?  Because Colin?  Because Colin, a guy who hasn’t even shown any amount of attraction to her at this point?  Her tears, her whining, it was all too much.  Penelope was dealing with a crush and Marina was dealing with the real Grown Woman issues of a child out of wedlock and as it turned out a dead lover and they were not on equal footing.

I mean, Penelope could very well make a great villainess at this point, and if done well I’d embrace it.  But I do not know how the fuck they can make me interested in her love story.  And the idea of her basically being launched into villainy because she was this chubby white girl obsessively jealous of a beautiful black woman...... not a great look.

The show definitely needs to explore diversity in terms of sexuality too--I don’t think it’s correct to read Benedict as straight because he still seems to be open to exploring.  Once he has more screentime, I think he could totally end up being bisexual, and it’s possible that the writers were trying to feel the audience out in terms of their receptiveness to taking a straight character who has a big straight love story in the books and making him LGBT+.  Eloise could also easily be a lesbian, and I’d be thrilled to see that happen.  They need to do something to expand the world, and if there are 8 Bridgerton kids, all of them being straight as an arrow seems SO unlikely.

The Ugly

Obviously, the rape scene was bad and should have been written out.  Simon could have gotten caught up in the moment and blown up at Daphne after he accidentally didn’t pull out in time.  Men.... accidentally don’t pull out in time... a lot.  That’s how babies happen.  It would’ve been believable, and due to our sympathies being with Simon largely, I don’t think he would have become irredeemable if he was more at fault than Daphne.  

As it was, I will say that the scene was somewhat better than it played in the books because Simon was conscious and totally sober, and it was a bit?  Confusing?  That he didn’t just roll Daphne over and pull out?  Because she wasn’t really clearly trying as hard as she was in the book to wrap her legs around him and hold him tight.  But it remained a rape scene.  The show also did a better job, I think, of establishing how fucked up it was that Simon took advantage of Daphne’s lack of knowledge.  Whatever he said about thinking she knew what was up--he knew she didn’t even know about masturbation.  He had to know she wouldn’t understand what pulling out meant.  He did very clearly mislead her to think that he was sterile and therefore denied Daphne her ability to give informed consent.  Did that justify what Daphne did?  Nope.  Two wrongs don’t make a right.  But both of them did a fucked up thing and I think that we honestly could’ve stopped at Simon’s misleading.

The issue too is that this leads into a bigger problem the show had.  It wanted to include diversity (yay!) but did not consider the total implications of what was happening (not yay).  Daphne and Simon’s dynamic is inevitably influenced by the fact that she’s a white woman and he’s a black man, regardless of whatever handwaves happened.  This influences the sexual assault and makes it even more messy.

Speaking of mess, I’m not sure what exactly would have fixed the “we don’t want this to be a colorblind casting” issue... but the explanation they came up with wasn’t good.  Never mind that this makes everything SUPER confusing (racism is over like..... maybe 50 years MAX after Queen Charlotte’s marriage if we assume she was a teen when she married and is in her 60s now?) but Lady Danbury’s dialogue explaining this was HORRENDOUS.  “One of them fell in love with one of us”.  The implications are awful.  I don’t know if perhaps setting back the integration of society centuries earlier would have helped?  But this wasn’t it.

Additionally, the writers and casting directors didn’t seem to get that diversity is all well and good, but what about the fact that almost every black character has a light skin tone?  Why are there so few black female characters?  Why is Marina, the most prominent woc on the show, given the “pregnant and desperately trying to trick a man into marrying her until her jealous white cousin fucks her life up and she is humiliated into settling for a loveless match” plot?  I desperately hope we see her next season, falling in love with Sir Phillip or perhaps having experienced a plot twist that gives her someone else...  And she better not die. Eloise can find someone else if Marina really ends up with Sir Philip.

Ultimately, again, I really loved the show.  But it needs to work on some things.  I think that a lot of its issues can be addressed and fixed in a future season, and I HOPE they do that.

#bridgerton #but fuck polin for life lol

[robininthelabyrinth]

How will nmy react to a memory loss jgy how think himself a nie scet member ?

There were murmurs around him when he first started waking up.

“– last few times – appears he thinks that –”

“– need to avoid any disturbances –”

“ - perhaps pretend -”

“Absolutely not.”

That last one was Sect Leader Nie.

His voice was loud and piercing as always, a general accustomed to needing to make himself heard over the din of battle and never quite having adjusted to situations where it wasn’t needed, and Meng Yao found himself relaxing a little bit just at the sheer familiarity of it. Nie Mingjue was as reliable as the sunrise: once you were one of his people, he’d defend you to the death.

If he was here, Meng Yao was safe.

He went back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, the room was empty but for Sect Leader Nie, who was sitting at the desk doing paperwork. Probably paperwork that Meng Yao should be doing, but for the injury that must have led to all of this – he didn’t remember it at all, but short-term amnesia was a common side effect of certain injuries, and his head was wrapped in bandages.  

Still, he struggled to sit up. “Sect Leader Nie,” he called, and Sect Leader Nie’s shoulders tensed. “If you want my help –”

“You should be resting,” Sect Leader Nie said. He was staring at the wall in front of him instead of turning back to look at Meng Yao – a sign of guilt? Had he been involved in what happened? “Do not trouble yourself.”

“And let you mess up my filing system?” Meng Yao teased lightly, hoping to lighten the mood. “Don’t forget how long it took me to fix the accounts the way I like it –”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Meng Yao paused, then, abruptly concerned: Sect Leader Nie’s shoulders were curved inwards, as if expecting a blow – afraid of pain. Afraid of him?

Impossible.

And yet, at the same time – unmistakable.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” he asked, keeping his voice level. He always kept his voice level, no matter the circumstances; someone certainly had to, and it wasn’t going to be anyone surnamed Nie. “Are you expelling me from your service?”

It was a joke, of course. Nie Mingjue liked him, respected him, valued him – had made it clear a thousand ways that he would never listen to gossip or to slander, would never judge him by who his mother was, and Meng Yao couldn’t imagine what sort of dire mistake would be necessary to make Nie Mingjue refuse to stand by him, even against the world.

“You’re the one who will leave,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice cutting, but then the anger flowed out of his shoulders and he sighed, closing his eyes, as if he had mistakenly become angry over the wrong thing. “It is not that I didn’t know that your ambitions had always been with Lanling, not Qinghe.”

Bile and panic rose up Meng Yao’s throat, but what could he say?

It was true. He had come to Qinghe because he had heard that they respected talent there, regardless of birth; he had come because he had needed a place to rise to prominence, where he could become so respectable that even his father would be unable to ignore him.

Qinghe had always been a waystation, not a destination.

Or, if one wanted to look at it with less kindness – he had treated it as a stepping-stone.

Had Nie Mingjue discovered how Meng Yao had schemed to get his attention, his sympathy? The little tricks he’d played to get him to agree to take a chance on an unknown, all the ways he’d wormed his way into the man’s life so that it would be impossible to extract him without damage? Or was it something more recent, something hidden away in his lost memories – had his father asked him to betray some confidence of Nie Mingjue’s? Turn over some information, take some secret action…had he done it?

Was that why Nie Mingjue didn’t want to look at him?

“Sect Leader Nie…”

“I’m not supposed to talk to you about it,” Nie Mingjue said bluntly. “The doctors told me to play along, pretend not to…I told them trying to hide it from you was pointless, that you were too smart, that you’d figure it out – I assume you have by now?”

“I’ve lost my memory,” Meng Yao said. He was shivering, and it wasn’t cold. “I woke up and the doctors realized that I’d forgotten a great deal, so they wanted you not to cause me any disturbance…how much time have I lost?”

“The war is over,” Nie Mingjue said, and surely that should be cause for celebration? But Nie Mingjue’s voice was flat and neutral, as if some terrible thing had happened, and his fists were clenched in rage. “You have been recognized by the Jin sect, and now live in Lanling. I cannot speak to the quality of your life, or to your happiness, but you have at least achieved that much.”

It was not that Meng Yao thought he’d be happy in Lanling – it was that he hadn’t thought he’d be happy anywhere, and found to his surprise that Qinghe actually did make him happy. It wasn’t supposed to, nothing was supposed to; it was all supposed to be part of the plan, that was all, a means to an end.

He wasn’t supposed to become fond of Sect Leader Nie, who tried so hard and listened so earnestly; he wasn’t supposed to be friends with Nie Huaisang, a charming waste of space who ought to have been born as a roly-poly kitten instead.

He was supposed to be in Lanling, by his father’s side, and now it appeared he was – and yet the injury he suffered had driven his memories back to his time at Qinghe.

That said something, he thought.

He’d had head injuries before, memory issues, dating back to his childhood; his mother had hired a doctor for him over it, a real one and not some faker, and he’d explained that when injured, Meng Yao’s extraordinary mind would retreat to the place it felt safest, recreating the past out of all those perfectly preserved memories and sinking into it as if it were real. If this injury followed the pattern of the others, there was no need for any treatment beyond time – soon enough, he would start to remember, and reality would gradually reassert itself over fantasy.

In the past, no matter what, his memory would always return to those few months when he was eight years old, when his mother had met a possessive benefactor and they had lived free and easy under his care – it had ended horribly, of course, but at the time he didn’t know that.

This time, his memory had returned to his days in Qinghe.

And Nie Mingjue still wouldn’t look at him.

“What did I do?” he asked.

“You assume that you’ve done something?”

“You don’t want to look at me,” Meng Yao said. A moment of silence, with Nie Mingjue not giving in, stiff and quiet, so he added, quietly, “I warned you in the beginning that I was unworthy of the trust you placed in me.”

In the end, Nie Mingjue turned to look at him. He seemed tired, and his eyes were bloodshot in a way that did not speak well of his health.

“Tell me what I did,” Meng Yao said. “I want to know.”

Nie Mingjue exhaled. “You killed a captain,” he said dully. “Premeditated murder, and you excused it by saying that he had stolen your glory and bullied you; even if it was true, you never once said a word of it to me before, never sought some other means to resolve it. You then defected to the Wen sect, becoming a master torturer and Wen Ruohan’s right hand; you killed my men, tortured me, and then killed him to become a war hero. After that, you were accepted into the Jin sect, and Lan Xichen and I swore brotherhood with you.”

He paused, then, but that was not the end, or else he would not be so angry.

Meng Yao waited, his mind dancing over all the excuses, all the things he could say, belated justifications, things that would cast him in a good light, a better light – what Nie Mingjue had described was obviously a problem, but not an insoluble one, and his future self should have known that. He could still fix this.

But to fix it, he needed to know the full extent of his crimes first.

“My qi became disordered after the war,” Nie Mingjue finally said, continuing. “Lan Xichen proposed a treatment: a Lan melody known as the Song of Clarity. But he is busy, so you took on the responsibility of playing for me…”

No, Meng Yao thought. No.

But at once he knew where the story led, even before the telling of it was done. A story that started with premeditated murder, however his future self had justified it to himself, could only end with the same –

Why would he do something like that? Perhaps because Nie Mingjue turned away from him after the first murder, as he ought to have known he would – Nie Mingjue tried so hard, and thought everyone else did, too; the glimpse at what Meng Yao was really like, the creature of spite and bitterness and hatred, willing to kill the filthy way, hidden in the dark…it would have come as a shock to him.

And yet his former self had obviously salvaged it, somehow; Nie Mingjue had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, to make up with him, to treat him as an equal, and still he –

Surely no prize could be worth this.

“Do you know why I did it?” he asked quietly, staring down at his own clenched fists, hating iron for not being steel. His damaged mind was telling him that what he had had in Qinghe was dearer to him than his own mother, and he had nearly destroyed it with his own two hands.

“The Nie sect and the Jin sect are at a crossroads,” Nie Mingjue said, and at last, at last Meng Yao recognized the flatness of his tone and the lack of visible signs of fury as the signs of medicine, the sluggish pain relief that could help stymie an incipient qi deviation. The poisonous song he played must have come very near to working. “Jin Guangshan wants the title of Chief Cultivator; I think there should be none. Jin Guangshan protects Xue Yang even after he murdered an entire clan; I think he deserves to die – I asked you for his head, and you promised it to me…you never intended to deliver. There can be only one sect ascendant, and you are, as much as he hates it, your father’s heir.”

His heir. Had he done something to Jin Zixuan, then? Unsatisfied with only the name he had promised himself he would obtain, had he coveted the power, too, and sought to achieve it by any means possible?

If he had reached the point of being willing to murder Nie Mingjue, then surely he had done that, too.

“I bashed your head in,” Nie Mingjue said conversationally. “During the deviation that you provoked. Lan Xichen stopped me from actually killing you, and from dying myself, and then you awoke without any memory of what you’d done, calling yourself Meng Yao again as if you were still – as if you still –”

Someone had asked Nie Mingjue to come in here and pretend, Meng Yao realized, and with a start realized also that he was furious about it. Someone had told him to come in here and play pretend with his would-be murderer as if they were still friends.

It might even have been Lan Xichen who’d done it.

There were tears on Nie Mingjue’s cheeks. He did not wipe them away the way Nie Huaisang would have, trying to hide his pain; he only let them fall, his eyes sliding shut once more – he could not look at Meng Yao, and Meng Yao couldn’t blame him.

“I wish I could go back,” he said, and Nie Mingjue opened his eyes to look at him. “Before I made those decisions. I wish I was still Meng Yao, and could do things differently. Is it too late for that?”

With anyone else, he would know the answer already. With anyone else, he wouldn’t have asked.

With anyone else, his mind would still be back in those wonderful days of being eight and alone with his mother for the very first time and last time.

“How can I ever trust you again?” Nie Mingjue asked, shaking his head in denial. “You drove me into a qi deviation – you wanted to kill me, knowing it would leave Huaisang the position of sect leader, knowing how cruel a death it was –”

“Is it too late?”

This was not something that could be repaired easily, with words and a gentle smile. This would take action and sacrifice. But before he committed himself, he had to know if it were even possible.

If Nie Mingjue could still forgive him, even now –

If he was still one of Nie Mingjue’s people, to be defended until death.

Nie Mingjue abruptly stood up, unsteady on his feet, clearly still ill – if I am half the murderer that I appear to be in his stories, I will kill those doctors who prioritized my health, this farce, over his, and if Lan Xichen was involved I will make it clear to him what wrong he has done – and shook his head, but this time it was not a denial.

“I never know what to do with you,” he said, and it was not a no.

It was not a no.

Jin Guangyao smiled.

(At the trial, which happened eventually, Nie Mingjue spoke in his favor, and his would-be murderer was remanded into the custody of Qinghe for whatever punishment they saw fit. It didn’t last long, but it was an excellent alibi for his father’s untimely death, even though it did not solve all the questions that lingered in Nie Mingjue’s eyes. But that, too, was not an insoluble problem.)

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

[editorofeverything]

Four Times Marinette teleported to where she would be safest, and the one time she was already there—Part Three

Okay, so, obviously being out of school didn’t help me finish this at all. I discovered recently that I have a phobia to plots which kept me from finishing this earlier. I had originally planned this series out to be one shots that sort of went together, with little plot besides the daminette aspect to it. This, however, is plot heavy. So. Much. Plot. SO many details to keep track of throughout each chapter… My anxiety said “How about no?” But! I am back! And more determined than ever to finish! Just two (I think?) more chapters after this one! And they’re mostly written already! Hooray! I hope you like it!

I think this may read a little clunky and seem to jump around a lot, but there is a reason for everything, I promise! A lot to unpack in this chapter. Lots of emotions to work through and decisions to be made.

Without further ado:

First - Last - AO3 - Next

A month passed since the start of Marinette having the Wayne’s on her side.

Three akumas passed with ease in the time, leading to their monitoring the situation, but not really needing to assist. Her parents were ecstatic that Marinette had an internship at such a prominent company and they noticed how much effort she put into everything she did. They had concerns about Marinette slipping in school or taking on too much like she had in the past, but after a long conversation about priorities and responsibilities, Marinette stepped down as class president and her parents decided to hire a temp so Marinette wouldn’t have to step in all the time.

She and her parents started having family nights every Sunday where they either bake, play video games, or watch movies. Their trust in Marinette was slowly starting to be restored, and Marinette loved being able to not lie outlandishly to her parents all the time. Even though she was still technically lying, Marinette felt better telling her parents she had internship stuff to do, and then following through.

The first few weeks were bumpy, jumping from disappearing during an akuma attack to going to her internship, but learning about business and how to market her brand… it was like being paid to do what she loved.

Along with getting used to her internship, Marinette also started feeling more comfortable leaning on the Wayne’s for support, whether it just be to talk or when she was struggling.

Like a few days ago when Lila had ruined Marinette’s newly made sundress by “accidentally” spilling paints all over Marinette’s desk. Lila had immediately started sobbing through an apology, trying to rub out the paints which only ruined the expensive, sensitive fabric more.

Marinette had broken down, knowing there wasn’t anything she could do for the fabric and ran home. Unluckily for her, the Wayne’s had been monitoring the school more closely and Tim had just happened upon the footage of Lila very purposefully grabbing a pallet of paint and “tripping” onto Marinette.

A video call from Dick and Tim calmed her down and gave her some advice about being more aware of her surroundings and how to take care of her things so that people don’t find them or get them away from her easily. Jason also had some choice words of advice about how to get out of fights even if she started one, making her laugh.

She had went back to school the next day with her head held high and ignored everyone’s attempts at justifying Lila’s behavior and villainizing Marinette’s. Marinette thought long and hard that day about her friends in the class, and, after Damian’s prompting, decided that “taking the high road” wasn’t in her best interest, no matter how selfish she felt putting herself before her friends and classmates.

Which lead her to where she was, pulling Adrien aside after class when she knew he had some free time and even looked grateful that she pulled him away from Lila.

“We need to talk,” was all she said, and he followed her all the way to the bakery and up to her room silently.

After they sat in silence for a moment, Marinette to gather her thoughts and Adrien to admire her new setup—She had taken all of his photos and other crush memorabilia she had out, and painted her room a lavender color with white and gold accents. More sophisticated and mature, Damian had said with what she would take as pride after she facetimed him the first time since she redid it.—Marinette turned towards Adrien and tried to prepare herself for whatever outcome could come her way.

Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.

“Adrien, I need to tell you something, and I need you to let me talk until I’m done.” At his concerning frown and hesitant nod, Marinette straightened up and looked him right in the eyes, trying to channel the Wayne’s confidence and all the advice they had given her up until that point. “I won’t stay silent about Lila anymore. You said that what she’s doing isn’t hurting anyone, but you’re wrong. As you friend, I was hoping you would give me the chance to prove it to you. Otherwise…” Marinette swallowed, and clenched her fists. “Otherwise, I don’t think I can be friends with you or the rest of the class anymore.”

The alarm and hurt on Adrien’s face both wounded and relieved her. At least he genuinely cared for her. She wasn’t really sure about any of her friends in the class anymore.

“Marinette-” he cut himself off and took a shaky breath. “I’ll listen. Of course I’ll listen to you, Marinette. I… You were one of the first friends I made here… I don’t want to lose you over her.” His voice was so soft and emotional, and Marinette grabbed his hands in hers and pulled him closer to her.

“I’m sorry to make such an ultimatum. You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right?” He nodded instantly and Marinette sighed. And then she told him everything. How Lila’s lies to their classmates could hurt them in the long run, how she keeps purposefully causing akuma attacks, and, finally, how Lila was obviously attacking both Adrien and Marinette.

“She’s bullying me, Adrien, and she’s harassing you,” Marinette said bluntly, if a little stern. If she was channeling Damian a bit there, no one else needed to know except for Tikki who was bursting with pride at her Lady Guardian. “I understand that you were homeschooled and that your father is really strict, but this can’t keep going on. The people around you who truly love and care about you should never stand by when you’re obviously getting uncomfortable or hurt.” Adrien was pale, and he looked as stricken as she felt, but she powered on.

“Badmouthing me to everyone who will listen, where I can hear her while she knows I promised you I wouldn’t do anything about it… she’s been hurting me since she threatened me when she first got here and I tried to expose her. I won’t let her hurt you or me anymore. Have you ever wanted her by your side? Hugging you? Trying to convince the class that you should be dating? Coupling up with you at every chance?” Marinette tried not to cringe at how she could relate to some of the words she was spouting. Between her, Lila, and Chloe, there was a good chance Adrien would never know what proper courting and dating behavior should be if she didn’t get through to him. “If she wasn’t working for your father, if she wasn’t lying about everything convincingly, she would’ve been removed from our class, maybe even our school, by now. No one would put up with her and they would be supporting us more. Now, it’s more complicated, because the class truly believes her every word, and we’ve been too complicit, but I would rather stand against her and take whatever consequences come with that than stand aside and let the people that I once cared about and called my friends be used and abused by a faker. I need to look out for myself from now on. I feel selfish, but I can’t keep babysitting the entire class to make sure Lila’s lies don’t hurt them permanently and stay sane. It’s part of the reason I stepped down as class president, and part of the reason I can’t keep staying friends with people who won’t have my back when I need them.”

Marinette tried to calm her breathing and watched Adrien’s face wearily for any signs that he would brush her aside or take Lila’s side. She didn’t want to lose him, didn’t want to lose any of them, but she wouldn’t keep drowning herself to make sure everyone else stayed afloat.

“…I… I am so sorry, Marinette,” he finally said, pulling her into a surprise hug. She could hear the thickness in his voice and felt her eyes fill with tears in response as she held him tightly. “I never thought that… No, I knew that what Lila was doing was wrong, but I thought everything would work itself out.” Adrien pulled away from their hug, but kept her hands in his, giving them a squeeze and a wobbly smile. “My father wants me to keep Lila happy… but I’m not happy anymore,” he admitted, avoiding her eyes, where she had begun to cry in earnest. “I haven’t been for a long time. What you’re saying now… I know it’s true. I’ve thought it before, but I just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before. Even though I wasn’t willing to put in the effort to get there. I let Lila hurt you and your reputation—your entire relationship with the rest of the class—just to make my father happy, even though he’s allowed Lila to—to harass me like you said. I think you’re right. Maybe it’s time we be more selfish.”

Marinette pulled him into a hug again and they cried together until Nathalie called demanding that he come home for practice. Adrien and Marinette were pilled on her bed, watching a movie and Adrien gave her a mischievous grin.

“Maybe being more selfish can start with staying with you a little while longer?” He asked gingerly and Marinette smiled at him.

“Maybe we can start with you staying the night. You ever had a sleepover before?” Adrien shut off his phone excitedly and threw it across the room.

“You have to teach me everything about sleepovers!”

~

Having Adrian by her side was something Marinette never really knew she needed in her life. She always wanted him by her side, but not like this. Not like she truly needed him. Not like how he needed her. And no matter what thirteen year old Marinette might’ve thought, Marinette wouldn’t trade the love and friendship she had with Adrien for anything else, and she really believed that she would never have to.

They didn’t do much anything differently in class, though Nino and Lila seemed to know something had changed between them. Maybe it was how they seemed to both disappear together after school all the time, ignoring invites to after class activities… Or maybe it was how one of them would sneakily intervene whenever Lila would corner the other. The rest of the class didn’t want to cause a fuss, so they turned away whenever the three of them would get into it, which Marinette actually appreciated.

She could fight her own battles now, and so could Adrien as he became more and more outspoken towards Lila’s drama, but fighting the people she once cherished as her closest friends… it was something that she was most afraid of.

Almost a week of no akuma attacks and peace throughout Paris led to Ladybug taking to the rooftops. The sky was clear and the stars seemed to glow as bright as the lights on the Eiffel Tower, and Marinette was able to actually look around and appreciate her surrounding for the first time in a long time. The way the Seine glowed at night; the people milling around the streets; the sounds of music drifting through the light wind kissing her cheeks. Marinette felt… bright. Her heart was light and she would bet the world that her soul was taking on a pinkish hue, beating with her heart in time to the sweet piano still playing somewhere.

She ended up, as always, at the top of the Tower, looking out over her city. Seeing her school, her parents’ bakery, Andre’s ice cream stall… it had been a long time since she could look at these places and the first thought of them be ‘home.’ She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the music once more.

A noise came from behind her, though she didn’t bother moving from her spot. She had taken to lying down, her legs swinging over the edge of the platform, staring at the sky.

“…My Lady?” Chat’s soft voice drifted around her and she smiled at him upside down. His soul seemed to be lighter than it had been and Marinette couldn’t help but smile at the soothing dance their souls took on as they slowly intertwined with each other.

“Hi, Chaton. Wanna come look at the stars with me?” She asked, returning her gaze to the night sky.

“Oh, um… of course, My Lady.” Chat walked over to her and sat down, though he didn’t lie next to her. Something was obviously on his mind, but Marinette didn’t ask. She would wait for him to speak, if he wanted to. And if he didn’t want to talk, they could gaze at the stars together and she would let him know she’s there for him.

After a little while, the piano stopped playing. The wind died down and there was less chatter on the streets. Marinette took a breath and sat up, pulling herself around to look at her partner. He was lost in thought, gazing out at their city.

“Chaton…” Marinette started, gazing at him warmly. She had thought about this a lot over the past month, and Tikki and the Waynes seemed to think it would be in their best interest, but there was still something holding her back.

“Ladybug,” Chat said, turning to her and the look in his eyes was determined, and Marinette was hit with a wave of unease, though she cursed herself for it. Chaton meant well, and he was her partner. She shouldn’t feel so uneasy around him just because she knew he had feelings for her. “Ladybug, I need to say something to you and I need you to listen to me, and I need you to listen until I’m done. Please. I—I need to apologize to you.”

Marinette froze. “…What?” She breathed out, confused and dazed and… hopeful? She shook her head. She would unpack all of those emotions later. “Whatever for, Chaton?”

Chat Noir straightened up, took a breath, and look her right in the eyes. She saw it then. The sadness, the fear, and the resolution there.

“A good friend of mine recently showed me signs of… harassment. Before, I just thought… I thought everything was fine no matter how uncomfortable I was… How upset I was the longer it went on and when my friend helped me out… I realized I acted the same way with you. You kept telling me over and over again that you didn’t want to reveal our identities. You told me over and over how you didn’t love me back, but I kept pestering you about my feelings and what I wanted. I—I’m so sorry, My Lady. I never should have ignored what you said about how you felt, or got upset when you told me the truth. I’ve realized that… The truth, no matter how upsetting, is always better than lying, and you’ve never lied to me, My Lady. I hope you can forgive me for pressuring you so much. I swear I’ll be better from now on and be the partner you deserve… if you still want me to be.”

Marinette felt frozen. There was no way… Was he really…? Marinette shook herself and sucked in a breath at sudden wobbling of her Chaton’s lips the longer her silence went on.

“Oh, Chaton,” she cried out, pulling him into a hug and holding on as tight as she could as his shoulders shook. “Of course I forgive you. You’re my partner, Chat. No one can replace you. Thank you for apologizing. I… We’ve been through a lot and… I’m not going to say it’s okay, making me uncomfortable and not listening to me, but I do believe you. I know how it feels to want to be with someone and everything else falls away. I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t forgive you.”

After a few moments of holding on tight, Chat pulled away and looked her in the eyes. “Thank you, My Lady.”

Marinette knew right then. She knew deep in her soul that she wanted her Chaton to know who she was out of the mask. She knew she could count on him and trust him, and she knew that he felt the same. Their souls swirled together like a storm and she rested her head against his.

“I do love you, Chaton.” She watched as his tearful smile and sweet green eyes met hers warmly.

“I love you too, My Lady.”

~

With Adrien by her side during school, Chaton by her side during akuma attacks, and the Wayne’s with her every day, Marinette knew she was stronger than ever before. Her heart, mind, and soul were finally at peace, and working together versus being constantly at war was liberating. No matter what Lila did, Marinette honestly couldn’t be bothered anymore. She still called Lila out for lying and harassing Adrien, but she could no longer care about the rest of the class’s reaction or Lila starting something every day. Marinette learned how to walk away when the fight wasn’t worth her time.

If a certain green eyed, aloof Wayne came to her mind more and more often as she chose her battles, bringing her a type of strength she never knew she could have… well, no one needed to know that.

Adrien knew about the Wayne’s and they were aware of him, but both parties didn’t seem interested in knowing more about the other as long as they both supported Marinette. Chaton also knew Ladybug had been in contact with The Batman and his team, leading to an amusing freak out session when she announced that they’d be in contact with them in the next akuma attack.

Except it didn’t quite go as well as Marinette was hoping.

It wasn’t easy focusing on the akuma in front of her while forming her own plan and listening to Tim, Damian, Alfred, and Bruce making comments and giving their own opinions on the fight in her ear.

They just barely manage to defeat the akuma, and Marinette heard hers and Chat’s miraculous timer beep their third warning.

“My Lady?” Chat mumbled, keeping one hand on his side and Marinette tried to keep her balance with Chat’s added weight on her bruised ribs. The timing of her Miraculous Ladybug and a sudden explosion… was unfortunate, leading her and Chat trying to protect the nearby civilians and damn near getting blown up if she hadn’t pulled a car in front of them at the last second.

Yay for not getting blown up, but still ouch for being squished between a wall and the car.

Lady Luck didn’t seem to be on her side still as more civilians took to the street, demanding to know why Ladybug’s magic didn’t protect them from the bomb. How could their heroes not stop the bomb from going off sooner? Why were they running away instead of cleaning up the mess they made?

Marinette tripped as the fourth beep sounded off, and she barely managed to prevent herself and Chat from collapsing to the ground. There were still people close by and they would surely notice the appearance of two injured teens in place of their missing heroes.

Marinette couldn’t focus. Her hear hurt so bad, and the static in her ear from the earpiece that cut out with the explosion was deafening and she was getting dizzy and Chat was getting heavier and the voices were getting louder—

The sudden appearance of a red portal was all she saw before she gripped Chat tight and jumped just as the final beep of their Miraculous sounded off.

~

Marinette and Chat dropped onto the soft mattress of a bed right as their transformations wore off. Marinette, who landed on top of Chat and kept her face hidden in his shoulder, clutched him tightly to her.

“Um, My Lady?” Chat asked, holding her close and Marinette just knew he kept his eyes closed ever since they transformed, and she felt her dusty rose colored soul warm while it swirled with his minty green. “Did we just go through a portal?”

“…maybe,” she answered, not lifting her head just yet. She knew that if she asked, Chat would look away from her and allow her to mask them both again before he betrayed her trust, and Marinette considered her options.

“You don’t seem too overly concerned about this,” he said, shifting their weight to a more comfortable position. Her side twinged and she knew he must still be hurting as well.

“It might have happened to me once or twice before…” Chat barked out a laugh and Marinette felt her soul shift with his as she made her decision.

“Of course it did, My Lady,” he said softy—fondly. “So… where are we, exactly? Your house? I’ll keep my eyes closed if you want to go into another room. Plagg and I can be out of here as soon as he’s recharged.”

Marinette took a deep, steadying breath before pulling away from Chat without looking at him and sitting up. They sat back to back on the bed, heads tilted together and Marinette knew for sure. She looked over, finding Tikki and Plagg looking seconds away from passing out on the futon. Marinette gave them both a meaningful look and Tikki nodded her head in understanding while Plagg looked surprised. It was time.

“This isn’t my house, actually, and it’s a little hard to explain.”

“I get it, my lady! Secret identities are important and Master Fu made the rule for a reason. I respect your decision to keep your identity safe, as well as mine.” He sounded so… proud as he announced the words and Marinette wanted for the hesitation. Waited for the anxiety and the fear… but it never came. She just felt… happy. Excited even. Yes, this was right.

“…And if I said I changed my mind?”

Chat’s pause made her smile as she felt him straighten behind her.

“…you can do that?”

“Well, I am Guardian now… I’ve been thinking a lot about our team, Chat, and while I believe Master Fu’s intentions were good and his rules were necessary for the time, he’s gone now and I’m the Guardian. Things are different, and I trust you,” Marinette grabbed his hand and heard his breath catch.

“My lady, are you sure?” He asked vehemently, and she felt her eyes sting. Kwami, she loved him. Loved him with her whole heart and soul.

“Yes, chaton. I’m sure. I want us to be able to support each other completely. How can we truly be partners if we don’t know each other? I was scared for a long time, but I’m not scared anymore. I trust you, Chaton, and I love you.”

“…Alright, My Lady. I trust you and I love you. I’ve never regretted taking your lead, and I will follow you to the end.”

“Together?” Marinette asked, pulling her hand away and standing. She heard her Chaton do the same and took a breath. She had never felt this exposed… this seen and he hadn’t even looked at her yet.

“Together.”

They turned around. Blue met green and Marinette let out a laugh. A laugh of pure disbelief and joy that she couldn’t stop if she wanted to. Adrien smiled fondly at her while she giggled and walked around the bed to her.

He grabbed onto her hands tightly and brought them up to his lips. They were both crying now, tears slipped from the corners of their eyes and met at the curves of their lips that were wearing matching smiles.

“My Lady… I wish I could say I was surprised… but it’s always been you, hasn’t it?” He said, not letting go of her hands as they gazed at each other.

“It’s always been us, Chaton,” she corrected, and she pulled him to her and held on tight. “It will always be us.” Marinette knew a year ago she would’ve thought their embrace was romantic—knew that anyone could walk through the door and think they were a couple, embarrassingly enough—but she knew they were on the same page. Knew that when they met eyes unmasked that first time, it felt like coming home. The Lucky Ladybug and her Black Cat would always find home in each other, and she would never let him go.

~

Marinette waited until Adrien was asleep as comfortably as he could be while still injured with Tikki and Plagg watching over him before heading out the door. Unfortunately, she didn’t remember where she was in the Manor or how to get to the Batcave from where she was, and she didn’t have either of her phones on her since the akuma attack caught them off guard during school. Her ribs ached with every step she took, but it wasn’t bad enough to make her stop.

They were probably worried since her comms cut out after the explosion, but surely they would see the news where she and Chat—Adrien—disappeared. She vaguely recalled hearing Damian shout her name when the explosion occurred and felt her chest warm, though she decided to ignore it.

She tried the door next to hers, but it was locked, which seemed to be the trend down the hall as she tried each one. At the end of the hall, there was what looked like a servants staircase and she decided if the Batcave were anywhere, it’d be as far down as she could go.

Except her hand didn’t even meet the door knob when someone’s hand gripped her shoulder tightly and pushed her up against the wall. Marinette’s right arm was pinned behind her back, but her left arm was free, so she got her palm flat against the wall and prepared herself despite the throbbing in her side and head at the sudden attack.

“Who the hell are you?” A female voice snarled at her, and Marinette pushed against the wall, kicking off of it and coming up behind her attacker, moving her arm so that it wouldn’t come out twisted and wrapping it around the girl’s throat.

“Who are you?” Marinette yelled back, not letting up even as the woman elbowed her in her bruised side.

The woman seemed to freeze at Marinette’s words and dropped her guard enough that Marinette pushed to woman to the ground and flung herself towards the stairs as she heard the scrambling sound of her attacker coming after her.

She managed to race down the stairs just as she noticed a door at the bottom that was conveniently opening as she met the last step.

Her attacker reached the top of the stairs just as Marinette got to the door and hoped the person behind it didn’t see or hear her coming. Whoever opened the door was looking behind him and talking with someone. His mistake. Marinette didn’t recognize him either so she bolted down the last few stairs, not bothering with being stealthy, and launched her feet at the person who had just started to turn around at the noise. She hit him square in the right side with both of her feet and caught herself from falling with him by gripping the doorframe and launching herself over his falling body.

It wouldn’t be enough to knock him out, but it would slow him down enough that she could attempt to find the Wayne’s or get away to call for help. There were two women standing in the hall who turned at the noise, but Marinette saw them before they saw her and grabbed the rug as she ran along the hall, making them lose their balance and trip over each other in surprise. For good measure, Marinette flung the heavy rug over the two of them without stopping.

“Hey!” and “What the fuck,” came from behind her, but she just hoped they would be tripping over each other for another minute or so while she fled.

Marinette rounded a corner and ran straight into someone else, who grabbed her arms to prevent them both from falling. Marinette didn’t even look him in the face before she flipped his arms around so she had hold of him and dropped backwards, using her legs to fling him over her head and onto his back with an audible “oof” while she rolled from her back onto her feet.

She continued into a foyer where her exit laid. A large set of wooden double doors offset by beautiful ceiling high windows. Marinette dashed to the doors and pulled them open with ease despite their size. She took a single step outside when she heard people behind her.

“Marinette!” She skidded to a halt and turned, panting hard and finding Damian, Alfred, and Bruce Wayne coming from the stairs above her. To her left, Dick and Jason rounded the corner with concerned looks on their faces, and to the right, the group of people she got passed in the hall came through just as Damian and the others reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Who in the hell is the girl who used a rug like a fucking cartoon character?” One of the young women in the room asked. She had shoulder blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Tripped you up, didn’t it?” Marinette shot back, still feeling vulnerable and uncertain about the group of people in the room. This was her safe place… but not at the same time. The safe place she came to before was with a few of the men she knew whose souls resonated with her. These people were a mix of different souls and emotions, and some of them obviously didn’t know who she was and mostly likely also didn’t know about her identity.

“Why were you running through the house like a madwoman anyways? Don’t you recognize me, Ladynette? I’m hurt,” one of the men said, pouting at her. Tim. She had just thrown him onto his back.

“Oh no, Tim, I’m so sorry, I just reacted on instinct when I ran into you. Um…” Marinette shifted on her feet and look wearily at Bruce. “I was teleported back here after the akuma fight with my partner, Chat Noir. We ended up in the room I used last time I was here and I thought it would be best to come find someone since I didn’t have my phones on me when someone attacked me in the hall.” She shot the dark haired woman a look as Alfred came behind her to close the front door.

“When a strange girl appears in my family’s home, I don’t ask questions first, little girl. What’s your excuse?”

“When someone attacks me while injured, I don’t ask questions either, and I certainly don’t sit there answering all their questions while they have me pinned to a wall.”

Damian was at her side in the next moment, tugging on her elbow and looking her over, catching her attention. Jason also sided up to her, throwing an arm over her shoulders and making a face at Damian. Bruce and Dick were shouldering the other girl in between them as well.

“Alright,” Bruce said, “that’s enough. Introductions should be in order now, I believe. Marinette, this is Cass. Cass, this is Marinette, our sporadic guest we discussed.” Cass didn’t reveal much on her face, but the tightening of her lips and the slight twitch of her eye told Marinette enough as Dick nudged her with his elbow. Cass didn’t move, and Bruce looked at her disapprovingly, opening his mouth to say something.

Marinette sighed before marching up to Cass before he could, feeling drained from the sudden burst of adrenaline and feeling the throbbing in her head and side return with a vengeance. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. You were just trying to protect your home and family from a stranger. I was still… defensive when you grabbed me. I should’ve known better than to think someone random would get into this house.” She tried for a smile, but it came out as a grimace as she adjusted her footing to ease her side.

Cass narrowed her eyes before relaxing and nodding once. “I apologize as well. Your maneuvering while in your state was impressive.”

Jason snorted behind her and threw an arm around Marientte’s shoulders again, causing her to suck in a breath at the jostling.

“Shit,” he said, immediately pulling away but keeping her steady, “sorry, little lady. Let’s get you looked at.”

Alfred was looking over her bruised side as she laid on a plush couch when Tim, Jason, and Damian came into the room.

“Bruce is speaking with the rest of the family now. They had been told about you before, but I don’t think they really expected you to just show up out of nowhere,” Tim explained while they circled around her. Instead of feeling surrounded in such a vulnerable situation— injured and with her shirt off—Marinette felt safe with them all around her. She shivered at the cold patch Alfred applied to her side.

“You have some bruising, but nothing appears to be broken, My Lady Guardian. How’s your head?” Alfred asked, helping her sit up.

“Better now,” she answered honestly. Whatever Alfred had given her eased the pain while allowing her to remain focused. “I’m not hurt anywhere else. The Ladybug Cure healed everything from the akuma attack. The explosion is what got my side and head.”

“We saw,” Damian said briskly where he stood to her side with his arms crossed. “The news caught what happened when your comms went out. Do you know where the explosion came from?”

Marinette shook her head slowly, not wanting to cause the throbbing to come back. “Someone started screaming about a bomb and Chat and I tried getting the area clear as quickly as we could. We were still too close once the crowd cleared so I pulled a nearby car over for protection which blew us back, but kept us safe at least. He’s upstairs still, sleeping now. I think his leg is hurt, and maybe his head, but he seemed to be as good as me when I left.”

“Your partner is ok with being here?” Jason asked, sitting next to her and helping Alfred pull her shirt back over her head without stretching her side.

“…I haven’t told him where we are yet. Though I did reveal my identity, which went… better than I thought it would.” Marinette couldn’t help but smile and rested her head against the back of the couch.

“I’ll take you back to your room,” Damian suddenly announced, stalked out of the room before Marinette had even processed his words.

She missed the Look Alfred, Tim, and Jason shared over her head as she stood slowly.

“Um, I’ve been meaning to ask… About Chat Noir…” She looked uncomfortably away from their warm gazes. “I can have us teleport back to Paris as soon as our kwamis are recharged, and I take a look at Chat’s leg.”

Jason rubbed her head and gave her a smile. “We already discussed what would happen if your partner were to ever stop by, little lady. If you want to tell him where he is and who we are, we don’t mind. You’re a team and we wouldn’t ask you to keep our secret from him. Not if we want to keep working together in the future.”

Marinette felt her eyes sting again and she nodded shyly, unable to properly thank them through the lump in her throat.

Alfred passed along the first aid kit he was using to Marinette and patted her cheek.

“Go look after you partner, My Lady Guardian,” he said, “I’ll bring up some food for all of you in a little while.”

~

Marinette and Damian didn’t speak for a while as he led her to the room she was in. The made it all the way to the foyer before he slowed just enough that she was nearly walking by his side.

“Your attempt at escaping was admirable, but you should have been more forceful if you thought you were in a potentially dangerous situation,” Damian said as they walked. Being so close to him as she trailed after him once again was distracting to her. Why was his soul so… loud to her? “What did you think?” He continued, not bothering to turn around to see her reaction. “That they broke in? Rendering a potential enemy unconscious would be far more effective in a getaway than tripping them or knocking them down.”

His tone was cold. He sounded harsh, but Marinette could sense that he was trying to get a point across without saying it. He obviously knew what he was talking about, and he wasn’t one to sugar coat things. She could respect that.

She hummed in agreement and felt his soul flicker for some reason. “You’re right,” Marinette said and Damian turned his head at her. She caught a glimpse of surprise in his eyes before he jerked his head around again. “I was so concerned about just getting out of the house that I didn’t think ahead. If this was a different situation, I would have gotten caught just outside.”

“…Correct. And you don’t know where we are, do you? An unfamiliar territory could hurt you more than waiting to take stock of where you are or who has you.” They started up the stairs, going at a much slowly pace thanks to her ribs.

Marinette sighed. “Guess I should add ‘What to do in a kidnapping situation’ to my research list right under ‘What to do in a bombing.’” She swore she saw Damian’s lips curl as he glanced at her once again before continuing ahead.

“I’m surprised your instincts proved resourceful enough to allow you to get passed four well trained individuals after a draining attack and while still injured.”

“‘A Guardian must trust her instincts above all else to protect the vulnerable and stay one step ahead of her enemies,” Marinette recited proudly, bursting with the unspoken praise in Damian’s words.

Damian paused at a door at the end of the hall and Marinette tilted her head at him.

“Everyone will be waiting in the dining room for you both if you decide to stay. It’s been a while since everyone’s been together for dinner, so Father and Alfred are making a big deal out of it. You and your… partner are welcome to join us. I trust you’ll be able to find your way back to the foyer from here?”

Marinette hummed and smiled at him, feeling her soul swirl happily with his. Something about his eyes… she could get lost in them easily if she let herself, but she wasn’t going to go down that road. Not again.

He opened his mouth to say something when a thump came from the room that drew their attention.

“Perhaps I’ll see you, then,” he said briskly as he turned away.

“Thank you for your advice,” she called after him softly, hand on the door to her room. “I really appreciate it.” She entered the room with a smile that grew at the sight of Adrien on the ground while Tikki and Plagg snuggled together on the bed.

“Little help here, My Lady?” Adrien asked when he saw her in the open doorway.

“Of course, Chaton,” she giggled, letting the door close behind her, missing the way Damian had paused by the door to the stairwell, rubbing at his chest as if that would stop his heart from beating out of it.

~

Word Count: 6645

Hehehe, this chapter was soooooo fun to write, but it had soooooo much content in it and I kept having to go back and forth between chapters to make sure I was presenting the right information and emotions accurately. Also, what the hell is with the Wayne’s eyes?? I kept having to look it up and came up with different examples of whether Damian’s and Jason’s eyes were blue or green, so I just settled on them both being green because of the Lazarus Pits (ignoring Bruce’s dealings with it completely because why not? So Bruce’s and the other boys’ eyes are blue.) 

What to look forward to in the next part: More interactions with the rest of the Batfahm and the rest of the class, and a look into Marinette’s internship as well as Adrien’s sudden burst of rebellion getting much, much worse. Hope you like it! Comments are always welcome!

Tag List: @starlightshield, @nickristus-dreamer, @liquid-luck-00, @chocolatecatstheron, @kuroko26

#daminette #Marinette deserves better #four times marinette got teleported to where she would be safest and the one time she was already there #part three #part 3 #batfamily #marientte dupain cheng #marinette x damian #damian wayne #bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #ml tikki #miraculous plagg #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #batgirl #marinette can't catch a break #let marinette have a bad day #Marinette needs a hug #adrien agreste #ladybug and chat noir #platonic soulmates #romantic soulmates #adrien is a good friend #chat noir is a good partner #marinette is guardian

[itsclydebitches]

ngl voyager gets a whole lot of very disproportional hate from the fandom and i'd hazard a guess that a lot of that is just garden-variety misogyny (and probably racism mixed in, considering how many of the most prominent characters are women, poc, or both). like, is voyager perfect? absolutely not. and no spoilers but there was a lot of executive meddling that wound up leading to the finale/conclusion being lacking and there's a lot of reasonable dissatisfaction with that--but again that was largely thanks to the execs fucking the show over and i recommend looking into that if you can once you've finished the show. but overall? voyager is trek right to its very core--it has heart, it's about family, and it never loses sight of that imo, even if some episodes are weaker or just duds (but, like, would it be a trek series without some episodes that just kinda suck but are still fun to watch???)

anyway, i absolutely love that you're getting into voyager, it is my all-time favorite trek series to this day for a lot of reasons, and i hope that ppl like that anon dont put you off bc i'd love to continue to see your thoughts as you watch the series!

Oh, it would take a whole lot more than some anons being salty that others enjoy things to turn me off :D 

Thus far (I lost internet last night so I’m still only on Episode 7 of Season 2), Voyager is the Trekiest Trek I’ve watched. Which is a weird sentence, but I mean it in the way you said it’s “trek right to its very core.” What is Star Trek, if we strip the intent of the story down to its basics? It’s about exploration, discovery, that “wagon train to the stars,” wrapped up in the argument that life is fundamentally good. We have problems, but we can work past them. We have differences, but they strengthen us. Diversity is the lifeblood of the universe and the future will continue to improve so long as we embrace that. 

Voyager is (again, from what I’ve seen so far!) basically a love song to that premise. I didn’t do too deep a dive because I’m trying to avoid spoilers, but I did look at a couple threads discussing why Voyager is so hated. Again and again I saw the same reason pop up: wasted potential. Now, a lot of fans left it at that (as if the answer to what potential Voyager apparently missed out on is self-evident. It’s not), but those who did expand on the idea consistently claimed that the show needed to be darker than it was, even if they rarely said it like that. Why aren’t the Federation and the Marquis at each other’s throats? Why isn’t the crew going crazy under these circumstances? Why aren’t characters getting killed off left and right in hostile space? “Anything could have happened out there and they played it safe!” but the “anything” here is always... awful. There’s this very pervasive idea that the world is inherently cruel, people are inherently divisive, that when pushed to the brink everything will fall apart... and that (while making for one kind of great story) is very much not Star Trek. 

See, Voyager created an unimaginable scenario--lost in space, 75 years from home, forced to live indefinitely with strangers--and their answer to the question of “What happens?” is “People make it work.” They learn to respect one another, they uphold their ideals, they maintain a love of life and discovery, and they create a family. And that’s fucking fantastic. That’s Star Trek! I’m not going to pretend there aren’t problems with the show, with plenty more to come, I’m sure, but I don’t think this is one of them. Why do so many viewers think that hatred, horror, death, and growing jaded is the only potential here? Why would they expect that in a Star Trek show whose premise is the very antithesis of those things? 

“But they don’t do enough with those things, even if they have happy outcomes.” They do plenty, they just do it in an episodic rather than serialized nature. I can point to multiple episodes where the replicator rations or Maquis differences are driving the characters’ actions. “But without that horror there’s no conflict.” There’s plenty of conflict. Hostile aliens aside, I just watched an episode where Tuvok and Chakotay are pissed as hell at one another because they fundamentally disagree over how to handle problems, but--because they’re adults with a well-tested respect for one another--they apologize and work through it. “But the characters don’t develop at all.” You mean they don’t grow harder. That’s not the same thing as no development. Tuvok is figuring out how to be more flexible, Chakotay is becoming more willing to accept cultures he doesn’t agree with, Harry is growing more confident now that he’s far from home, the Doctor is learning to see himself as a person, Paris is grabbing his second chance with both hands by making strong ties, and Janeway is learning to command and care for her crew simultaneously. I honestly believe that a lot of people think of “character development” as the character becoming a fundamentally different person, unrecognizable from where they started out. But  characters can also grow into the people they wanted to be in the first place. “We’re far from home, in hostile territory, tempted to do horrific things to survive... but no. Right now at least, we’re holding onto who we are. We’re scientists, so we’re going to explore and learn. We’re peaceful, so we’re going to make friends with as many species as we can. We’re members of a society that teaches acceptance, so we’re going to form a family on this spaceship.” That’s incredible!! Did fans miss why Seska was an antagonist in the episode she was unmasked? Because she was trying to convince them to give up everything they believe in in the name of survival, an ends justify the means argument. And the crew said no, we will not give up what we believe in just to make it through. I legit saw a ton of fans saying some version of, “I can’t believe they were that far from home and actually followed Starfleet’s rulebook.” It’s because those rules don’t exist for the hell of it. Overlooking their practical function, they’re a philosophy that the characters believe in, and they’re figuring out how important that part of their identity is to them under these circumstances. Am I willing to steal a specie’s technology if it gets us home? Am I willing to die to help another uphold their own philosophy? (Chakotay in “Imitations”). What regulations should we bend or change to accommodate our new situation? The first two things Janeway does are a) giving the guy who just came out of a penal colony a rank and b) deciding that she needs to be more familiar with her crew than is normally encouraged for a captain because she’s essentially their mom now. Developing doesn’t have to mean characters do a 180 on their initial personality, or characters getting killed off when stuff gets “boring” so that others can do edgy things in response. 

Voyager upholds Trek’s premise and runs it to its logical conclusion: 

Voyager has the most literal trek--a trek back home. 

Voyager has the most diverse crew--a woman Captain, Native American First officer, black Vulcan, Asian-American communications officer, and a White Dude pilot that realizes he wants to be soft and kind towards those who took a chance on him because Toxic Masculinity who? 

Voyager has the most literal family--not just a 5+ year mission, but a crew who expects to raise the next generation. They have no choice but to work together, so they indeed come together rather than pulling apart

Except they do, of course, have a choice. In “The 37′s” the crew is allowed to stay on the Earth-like planet with a city of other humans and Janeway is convinced that a sizable number will choose that. After all, they may never get home and this is a safer, kinder future for them. In fact, the real question is whether so many will stay that they can no longer run the ship... but Janeway would never dictate her crew’s choices in that manner. So she swallows her worry down, opens the door... 

... and finds that not a single person decided to stay behind. And the show has ensured we understand that this is not just because they all have some unshakable belief that they’ll get home (many don’t), but because this is their family now. This is home. 

And fans want to toss that out for a generic, gritty, sci-fi adventure where hope is scarce, the universe is cruel, and people need to be pushed to the limit just to admit that they maybe, sort of, like each other?? Obviously like what you like, but that’s a hard pass for me. I’ll take the bridge crew comforting each other in “Twisted,” thanks. Besides, we already have shows like that. And we already have DS9 which grapples with many of those dark, pessimistic themes. Voyager feels like a breath of fresh air, even within the breath of fresh air that is Star Trek as a franchise. It’s a show that says, “Yes, when everything goes wrong people will come together. They will love each other. They will make it through.” 

What’s more Star Trek than that? 

#star trek #ST #mymetas #Anonymous

[writingsbychlo]

put her together again (06)

word count; 6299

summary; mitch goes to a therapy session, and hates what happens to you whilst he’s there, and hates himself even more for the role he plays in it.

notes; y’all, I gotta make one thing clear - I know irene comes off really awful, but think about how much she’s got to sacrifice to be able to save all the others.

warnings; anxiety attacks, and references to the following; child abuse, electrocution, imprisonment, stealing, and violence.

Mitch wasn’t sure what he had been expecting you to be like before a therapy session, but it wasn’t like this. Then again, this wasn’t your usual therapy session.

You were on edge, that much he could tell, but it wasn’t on edge in a way that he was used to. He’d seen you in many moods, all the way from the very first time that he’d met you as you’d been coming at him with a gun and a pocket knife, and a look in your eyes that read ‘no mercy’. He had seen fear in your eyes before, on the nights when you’d awoken in a fit of screams and tears, thrashing as your legs were tangled in your blankets until you’d rolled from the mattress so violently you’d hit the floor with a loud thud and he’d been rushing in to pick up the pieces and put you back together before morning. 

He’d seen you upset, both in the ways you let it out, tears in your eyes and a cracking voice when you’d been taken back to your parent’s house, the realisation and resurfacing of who you were being prominent in your mind. He’d also seen the version upset when you tried to hide it, when you’d been told that you were being moved out to your own place, even though you’d voiced how you didn’t want to leave him, or the betrayed look on your face when he’d been able to return after an entire week, leaving you to think for a whole seven days that he’d abandoned you.

Mitch had even seen you angry, in the way that was utterly terrifying as you sat with clenched fists until you’d cut crescent-moon shaped marks into your palms as the furrow between your eyebrows created trenches, moody and snappy on days when your drawings wouldn't come out quite right with the way you were picturing things in your head, or the when you would slip up in the way you regressed to yourself, when your progress took a tiny step backwards for all the steps forwards you took when you were tired.

This was nothing like any of those moments, though. 

This was chilling. It was calm and collected but unsettling quiet. It was a simple breakfast, with no music or dancing, and only the sounds of cutlery and tinkering pots and pans to break the tension, occasionally muttering underneath your breath. He was sure you could hear the grinding of his teeth as he listened to you remind yourself of who you were. Your name, your address, his name, your birthday, the gym you went to, your coffee order. Everything that made you who you were, making sure it was kept at the front of your mind, that nothing was slipping, and he absolutely hated that such a thing wasn’t something you got to take for granted like he did, that you lived every day in fear that it would all go away, slip from your grasp and slip from your life. 

He ate his food quietly, choking back the urge to speak up or reach out, to offer you comfort and reassurances, because he knew just how badly you needed to stick to your routines, just how much they meant to you, and therefore, he knew that interrupting you and messing them up for the slightly selfish actions just to put his own churning stomach at ease could have disastrous results on your anxiety, and your fragile mindset.

He watched as you slipped away, taking his plate when he was done and offering him a small flick of the lips upwards, but you had barely met his eye at all this morning, and he could count the total words you’d spoken to him since waking on his fingers, and he figured he was already disrupting your rituals before your cognitive hypnotherapy sessions just by being here, but that he couldn't compromise on. He had to see it, he had to know that Irene was looking after you, that you were being cared for the way he would, that they weren’t using you as a source of information and draining you down more than you could handle, sapping you of all energy until you were just a hollow and broken shell. Not when he’d worked so hard to save you, and helped you to build that life that you so truly deserved.

With dishes washed and left out to dry, you slipped away without a word, your back to him as you wandered down the corridor to the bathroom, the door clicking shut, and a second later, the water heater had been humming lowly inside of the cupboard and the sound of water thrashing against the bottom of the tub, disrupted by your body joining the mix. He was left alone, to wander your bedroom and find some of his clothes, dumping the spare ones in your laundry hamper and knowing that you’d keep them and wash them, and he’d find them in the exact same drawer the next time he came over. 

You were wrapped in a robe when you emerged, a little startled as the two of you met in the doorway, but for the first time that morning, you offered him the same kind of affections that he was used to. Your shoulders sagged, stiff tension dropping away for just a second, before you were slipping your eyes shut, leaning in enough to bump your forehead to his shoulder, twisting your head to rest your cheek in its place, and he could feel your short puffs of breath against his skin.

“I’m sorry.”

He wrapped an arm around you, squeezing tightly enough that you sighed out against him, your body slumping into him a little further. 

“These mornings are always weird, it just puts me on edge. I’m not purposefully shutting you out.”

Turning to rest his chin atop your head, Mitch let his own breath go slowly, fingers running over your arm lightly. “I know that, and I understand it. You don’t have to apologise.” You only nodded in response, your hand coming up to sit on his waist, fingers curling in the material of his top as you allowed yourself a final moment to cling to him, to forget where you were going and what you were doing for a few seconds more, and when you shifted a little, he loosened his grip, chuckling as you hesitated in your movements. “You should get ready, Irene will be here soon.”

You backed away, closing the door as he left to have your privacy, and once again, he was shut out from you as you slipped back into your tightly locked state, protecting yourself against your circumstances. He busied himself, little jobs he knew you would’ve done yourself later but he could help you with now, putting away your dishes and plates and making sure everything as neat and tidy, the perfect way for you to come home to after you were shaken up from having someone digging through in your mind and shifting through your every memory and thought for the information they wanted, discarding what they didn’t as though it didn’t matter, like it wasn’t something just as vital in what made you who you are.

Drawers opened and closed, the creaking of floorboards as you wandered around, before the humming of a hairdryer was taking up, soothing enough to him with the ticks and shakes it made for him to use it to steady his own heart rate. This morning - this day - was all about you, he was just here to support you, but the few moments of singular reprieve he got to calm his own nerves and try to get past his own anxiety was more than eagerly welcomed, needing to collect himself so that he could be the strong one between you both today.

There was a soft knocking at the door, and he smirked a little, wandering over and taking his time in undoing the locks, before he was opening it up and offering an openly fake smile to the woman before him, who fixed him with a scowl in response. “You’re here.”

“I said I would be. Eight sharp, yes?”

“Shame. I was rather hoping we’d get to leave you behind.” He scowled at her then, being sure not to move out of the doorway to invite her inside as he reached for his shoes, a hand on either side of the doorframe to tug on his shoes, before his coat was following and he was sticking his arms out in jerky movements to pull the sleeves up, blocking her from stepping into the apartment as she huffed. He knew he was being childish, but the glare she gave him upon having no further actions or responses was more than enough to justify it, in his opinion. 

They were locked in an intense stare-down when you finally emerged, clearing your throat, entirely unaware of the aggressive anger between the two, and you were pulling a warm coat up your arms. A pair of his sweatpants and a simple top, a knitted cardigan with black speckles in cream-coloured wool was sitting on your body, before you were slipping on your shoes, staring at them both expectantly.

“I’m ready. We can go.”

“Great, Mitch can take his own car.” It was a more chipper voice than he had ever heard from Irene, and he scoffed as he watched you lock the front door, a hand on your lower back as he guided you along, choking down the lump in his throat as he picked up the shake in your body as your nerves got the best of you.

“We have another, today?” The therapist jutted her chin out in Mitch’s direction, despite her gaze being locked with Irene’s, his superior only giving a curt nod, and you were lingering in the doorway, picking at the loose threads of your cardigan. “Come on in, (Y/N). Sit yourself down.” She was friendly enough, and you seemed to accept her words as such, shuffling your way over to the couch after hanging up your coat, and you settled down in the middle, laying out one of the pillows to lay downwards instead, and reaching out across the wooden surface to pour yourself a glass of water. “What about our guest?”

She turned to him now, and he cleared his throat, smiling politely as he offered her his hand, his name following, and she shook it gently, before his boss was making her presence known once again. “Rapp is here to observe, he won’t be interfering.”

It was like one of those times your parent inadvertently spoke to you while pretending to be polite in front of others, and he felt like he was being chastised by his mother for being loud and obnoxious in public, the woman nodding her head towards one of the chairs in the corner that he could sit on. You were sipping on your drink, eyes following the every movement of ‘Doctor Lindsay’ as she sat across from you, legs crossed as she leaned forwards, everything about her body language being relaxed and soothing as you sipped at your drink.

“Are you ready to begin?”

Your eyes flicked up to his, not looking for permission or support, simply as though you’d almost forgotten he was there, shocked a little by his presence, and the silence in the room felt stifling, before you cleared your throat. “I’m ready.”

“You remember all of the questions, and the routine we’ll be going through?”

“Yes, Doctor Lindsay, I remember.” Your voice was steady, emotionless once again, and a shudder went along his spine. Your eyes seemed duller, your lips in a neutral frown, and he felt like he was meeting you for the first time all over again. Crossing his arms over his chest in a protective manner, Irene leaned over the back of the couch as you lay yourself down, head propped on the pillow you’d laid out and legs stretched out all the way to the end. 

“I want you to listen to my voice. Just my voice, okay?” You let out a slow breath, and Mitch found himself copying your movements, exhaling slowly in a mimic of what you’d done, and the rigidity of his muscles gave way a little. “I want you to focus on your breathing, and on your heart rate. Slow, in and out, as slow as you can go. Let it all go. Focus on your heartbeat.” 

You licked at your lips, taking a final deep breath, and holding it in your lungs, and he could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his eyes, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to clear his mind, shaking it all away and bringing himself back to consciousness as her soothing voice and simple commands began to get him to slip into a haze place as well. She had an iPad out, bringing up a simple panel of controls, before the lights in the room were dimming considerably, and the hum of the heaters came to a stop, air conditioning taking its place, and the one above his head sent a sudden wave of cold chill into the darkened room. The blinds were closed now, so far that he had to squint to still see you, and he muffled the yawn he wanted to release, wrapping his arms tighter around himself as the temperature within the room dropped.

“Unit eight. State your location.”

He felt bile rise in his throat, the cool and commanding tone to your voice, and your entire body suddenly locked up, that tranquil calmness you’d gained while studying your own heartbeat was gone, your hands forming fists by your side and your body going stiff, and he could see the last bits of who you’d become slip away before his very eyes; “Unit eight is in the dorms, ma’am.”

“Which dorms, unit eight? Which building are you in?”

“Units are not disclosed that information, ma’am.” She nodded her head, humming to herself as she placed the device down, her and Irene sharing a look, before a voice-note recorder was being turned on, only a blinking light to signal that it was active. 

“How old are you, unit?”

“This unit was born eight years, one month and six days ago, ma’am.” She was happy with that revelation, shifting in her chair, before her tone was going slightly softer once again. 

“Can you tell me what is happening, right now? Tell me where you are, what you can see and feel and hear, what are you thinking?”

“I-I see the dorms. My bed, the sheets are scratchy, I don’t like how they feel when I sleep on them, it makes my skin feel itchy. I can hear the guards, they’re changing any minute now, the ones outside the door are getting impatient. There’s plastic, smooth, clean, and cold.” Your fingers twitched a little, your hand moving as though you were holding onto something, and then there was a laminated playing card slipped into your hold, your fingers flexing around it. Your thumb stroked over the material, before you were letting out a sudden gasp. “It’s quiet, now. The showers are running, that’s where the other units are. They’re good, I want to be good, but I don’t like it here. I don’t like it here, please, I don’t like it here.”

You were choking up, voice childlike and cracking as you spoke, slipping between the way he’d known you to refer to yourself as, and a child who didn’t know any better, the inner monologue of a frightened youth who was being made into a monster. “Focus, unit eight. It’s quiet now, why?”

You sniffled, gripping the plastic in your hand again tightly. “The guards are gone. It’ll be forty-six seconds before the others get here. The rounds are changing.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means it’s time to go.” There was a finality to your voice now, determined and adamant like a petulant child, before you were taking a deep breath, body jerking slightly from your feet and upwards, as though you’d jumped and landed on them harshly, and he imagined that was from the impact of hitting the floor as you jumped down from bunk beds. 

“Tell me what you’re doing, unit eight.”

“I’m looking out of the window in the door. It’s small, I can’t see much, but I can see the hall. It’s clear. I remember the way, from training this week. I remembered. The second left, the first left, the third right, then straight ahead until I get to the big grey door.”

“Correct. How do you plan to open the door?”

“I stole a keycard. I have to go. I have to go now!” Your voice was becoming more frantic, and then, it all seemed to kick off. Your arm jerked, the one holding the card, as though you’d swiped the card over the door and opened it. Your legs twitched, jerking with each step as your breathing became shallow, like you were running, laboured and gasping as you went, and your entire body was shifting from side to side, up and down, subtle movements, but a considerable amount of twitching nonetheless. You were mumbling directions to yourself, marks you remembered, passing the labs and the gym, as well as the cafeteria, before a cry left you. “No, no, no!”

“What is happening now, unit eight? Tell me what’s happening.”

“There’s an alarm. It’s only been half a minute, they shouldn’t know I’m gone yet! The lights are red, and flashing. It’s loud, it hurts my eyes and my ears.” He knew what they were approaching, Irene had explained it all to him after choosing to travel with him on the drive over. You hit a wall, you got to your escape, and they knew you made it outside but then your mind closed in on itself, and you were lost to them. As soon as you could tell them what happened on the other side of the door, they could track the location, but you never could. “I’m confused. I lost count! I don’t know where to go!”

You sounded broken, and his heart clenched for you, standing up a little straighter and Irene turned her gaze to his own immediately, a silent glare that screamed at him to stay put, and he had to bite his tongue just to stop from making a comment and telling her to back off. Clearly, they were used to this, they must’ve seen you like this a dozen times, but it didn’t hurt him any less.

“The second left, the second left.” You were mumbling to yourself now, panting as you spoke, your chest rising and falling quickly. “The first left and the third right.” Your body was twitching again, like you’d run the route through in your mind and remembered where to go, before you were letting out a cry again, this one sounding a little more victorious. “The big grey door!”

“Have you found the door, unit eight?”

“Yes! Yes, I can make it!” Your arm moved again, before you were shaking, once along your body, and the temperature in the room went down again, even colder, and he assumed that wherever it was you were being kept at the time must’ve been somewhere icy. Irene turned on the fan beside you, harsh winds blowing silently over your body, your hair moving around lightly with the strands that framed your face. Their bodies both sagged as you cheered, before your face was falling again, and you were beginning to let out sobs. “They found me. They found me! It’s too slippery, I can’t make it! There’s too much snow, it’s too much!”

Irene ran a hand through her hair, the plastic dropping from your hands as you began to scrabble, breathing desperately and as your knees jerked, cries and whimpers leaving you as he watched your body shift in diluted movements of climbing and falling, trying to drag yourself along. You were hyperventilating, you were panicking, shutting in on yourself and you couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you tell me what you see, unit eight?”

You only let out another cry, and he watched as the therapist reached for the device, Irene standing up robotically and already reaching for the switch on the fan again as he decided enough was enough, your words mixed with desperate drags of breath and shakes as you got stuck in the cold. 

“That’s enough. Stop it, you’re breaking her!”

“Rapp!”

“Unit eight is-” Your words cut off, Irene letting out a sigh as the flashing light on the device was taken off, Doctor Lindsay’s entire body deflating, and he didn’t care about how much they needed this information, or how much trouble he would get into, he just needed to be there for you right now. His hand found yours, and you whimpered under your breath, before you were squeezing his hand back. “Mitch, it’s so cold. I’m so cold. I’m scared.”

“I know, sweetheart, it’s okay. I'm here with you.”

“Hold on.” Irene’s hand shot out, her mouth agape a little, and the therapist seemed just as shocked. “Continue on, continue!” The device was turned back on, and he adjusted himself on his knees, opening his mouth to protest before the doctor was speaking over him. 

“Unit eight, can you tell me what’s happening?”

“Mitch, they’re here! I’m not fast enough, I’m so cold!” Tears slipped out of your eyes now as you gripped at his hand, and he winced as your nails dug into his skin, scratching as you scrabbled. “No! No, please, no!” Your back arched up off of the couch, a violent motion that made everybody jump back, a loud shout tearing from you, one of the most broken and distressed sounds he’d ever heard.

“Get her out! Now!”

“No, we’ve never gotten this far!” Irene yelled back, uncaring of being delicate now, not wanting to break the trance, her desperation for the information taking over. “Ask her, Mitch, ask her what she sees! She’s responding to you! You’re in her mind deep enough that even her subconscious is seeking you out for comfort, you’re helping her keep going.”

His nostrils flared, but he knew he had to do as told, and so he turned back to you, a shaky hand brushing away your tears gently, before you flinched violently, pulling away from his touch. “Sweetheart, can you tell me where you are? What do you see, tell me about it? How would you paint it?”

“Paint it?”

“What colours would you use? What would it look like?”

You steadied your breath, relaxing slightly as you gasped, wet breaths as more hot tears slipped down your cheeks. “White. There’s so much snow, and there’s grey, too. Looks like there’s a storm coming.”

“You’re doing so good, keep going for me.”

He brushed a hand along the edge of your face, and you tipped into his warmth a little, your mind instinctually searching for him, his heart skipping a beat in his chest as you did. “Green. The trees are tall, so tall they block out the sun, there’s shadows, and the woods look dark, but I can’t take the road. It smells like Christmas.”

“Pine trees. There are pine trees.” The therapist's words were drowned out as you continued to whimper quietly before him. He shushed you gently, watching as you continued to fight, but your shivering was calming a little.

“Tell me about the building.”

“I can see it now, I’m almost at the end of the garden, the fences are broken, I broke them last week so I could get through.” He nodded, waiting for you to continue. “It’s a big warehouse, not like the usual houses. There are lots of colours on the side. Drawings.”

“Graffiti?”

“Yes.” You mumbled this word, going quiet, and suddenly your whole body is stiff. “They’re too close. I can’t go yet. I need to hide. Mitch, we need to hide.”

“Okay, sweetheart. We’re hiding.” You hummed, and he could see your eyes darting around under your eyelids, breathing held, and he rubbed his other hands gently over your ribs, coaxing you to take a breath before you hyperventilated. “Tell me about the drawings, what are they?”

“Not drawings, it’s words. It’s a warning.” 

“What does it say?” You were getting frantic now, whimpering under your breath as a child would, and he felt sick to even be partaking in this, but you were so passionate about it, he knew that if you were of your own mind right now you would have told him to keep going, and you’d already told him how much you wanted to help the others. He needed to know that he could make you safe, that he could use this information to make sure he brought down whatever organisation had ruined you, and make sure they’d never harm you again.

“Берегитесь Ахмеровского леса, он проклят.” Beware the Akhmerovsky Forest, for it is cursed.

“Is that Russian? Did you get that?” He’d almost forgotten about Irene and the therapist, but she confirmed that she’d got it, the blinking device being waved in the air, and the two women looked elated, before he growled, cutting them off and drawing their attention back to him. 

“Great, now you’ve had your fill of picking through her mind, can you bring her back?”

“Unit eight, can you hear me?”

“Mitch! Mitch, they’re coming!” You were whispering now, your hand clenching around his as your entire body went stiff, and he opened his mouth to reply, before a loud shout left you. Your entire body jerked, head to toe, and you were sobbing now, shouting and crying out for help, his name mixed in along the pleas and begs. “No, no, I’m sorry! Please, no! Mitch! Help me! I’m sorry!”

You were struggling to breathe, tears flowing from your cheeks as your legs kicked, your arm flying out so fast he barely had time to avoid it, and your glass of water was knocked to the floor, water spraying everywhere and glass shattering on the wooden tiles with a cracking sound that made him wince. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

“Mitch! Where are you? Mitch, please!” Quite possibly the worst scream Mitch had ever heard sounded out, blood-curdling and enough to make him feel the clenching of his stomach. Your hand was limp in his now, before it was flying up to grip at your ribs, and your breathing struggled. The cushion under your head slipped from the couch, your body twisting to the side, curling into the fetal position as you spasmed, like you were being beaten, and he could feel his own tears leaking from his eyes now.

Irene was shouting, authority and power in her voice, but it was no use, because among the white noise was Doctor Lindsay, trying to get through to you, every keyword and trigger break the two of you had was flailing from her lips, but you weren’t even responding to his voice anymore, panting and whimpering as you relieved each blow and beat in your mind. Finally, you stopped, crying to yourself quietly, and Mitch thought maybe that would be the entire scene, that would be the only fuel to haunt his sleep for the next few months, but then, you were scratching at your chest trying to breathe as it seemed you couldn't even get the oxygen into your lungs, what he knew well as a panic attack was forming.

“No, please, don’t lock me away! I’ll be good, I promise! Please!”

You were making fists again, knuckles white from the intensity of it, and he reached out to try and uncurl your fingers before you cut into your palms, but you jerked away from him. Your back left the couch, your entire body shaking and vibrating in a way he knew was a form of electrocution, and he clapped a hand over his own mouth to stop the noises he wanted to make from being released.  

“Don’t leave me here! I’m scared, it’s dark! Please, don’t leave me!” You were getting worse now, a clammy sweat lining your skin as your body began to go entirely calm, each organ shutting down and becoming sluggish as the panic took over, but you still couldn't breathe, that part of you was still in overdrive as it failed to work. “Please!”

It was the last word to leave you, before finally, you were able to take a deep and gasping beat, everything going silent as your mind gave in, passing out on the couch as reliving the panic attack made you short circuit, giving up to reboot as it all became too much.

It had been hours, Mitch eventually having moved to sitting on the couch beside you, your legs across his lap after repositioning the cushion under your head. After it was all over, the quiet was more deafening to him than your screams had been.

Sprawled out on the cushions, you had looked utterly exhausted, panic and stress still stitched onto your features, your hair messy from your thrashing with flushed cheeks, but he figured the slow breaths you were taking was a good enough step, calm and quiet taking over the room. Irene moved first, motioning the therapist to go with her, and the two had stepped out of the room. At any other time, he would’ve followed them, demanding to know what information it was they were exchanging, but right now he was willing to let them have their confidentiality, because he was more concerned with your well-being.

He smoothed back your hair, lifting your head up to place a cushion underneath, and he couldn't resist the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, mumbling an apology into your skin for letting this happen to you, and for being a part of it. He comforted himself by knowing that you were happy, he soothed his own nerves by pretending that he knew how much you wanted this and that it excused the way he’d acted, but it didn’t. He should have fought harder to refuse, and he should have fought harder to resist Irene’s demands, or to pull you out while you were listening to him. 

You’d had to relive the event that had been the final breaking of your spirit, the final piece that had made you into an obedient soldier who would do as told, and when you’d subconsciously put enough trust in him not to shut down, he’d made you go through it all. He felt awful, and so as the hours dragged on and the light faded away, the therapist and his superior having left you both alone a long time ago, he was still sitting here, waiting for you. 

The dimple between your brows was gone, smoothing out, and the frown that seemed so reply embedded had faded, your face was simply left blank, chest rising and falling slowly, and it was enough to tempt him into a serene level of calm himself. 

His head was resting against the back of the couch, eyes closed as the turning of the ceiling fan made him feel dizzy, and so he’d opted for complete darkness instead to block them out. With a hand smoothing over your leg, he waited patiently, head snapping up when he finally felt a more solid twitch than everything else had been. 

He watched again, your nose scrunching up a little as you began to surface, and your lips parted, a deeper breath than the even ones you’d been taking as you slept, and his lips flicked up at the sides as you began to rise back up out of your unconscious. Suddenly, just like that, the peace was shattered once again. You let out a loud cry, fists clenching again before you were screaming, letting out a stuttered call of his name, followed by a sob, and he couldn't get to his feet fast enough. 

He was kneeling by your side, skin growing damp from sweat once again as he tried to cup your face despite your thrashing, and you sat bolt upright with such speed that he felt backwards, banging his elbow on the coffee table and hissing out in pain as he grabbed it, but his attention was solely on you. Your eyes were glossed over and filled with tears, once that promptly began to leak down your cheeks, fast and heavy tears that dripped away to leave marks on your clothes, and he tried to swallow down the lumps in his throat as he watched you. 

You still seemed a little dazed, staring off into space, and you jumped violently when he cleared his throat, as though you hadn't even known he was there until you were looking at him. Fear and panic became anger, and he almost flinched under your glare as you backed away from him, pulling your knees up to your chest as you pressed back into the cushions. 

“You left me!”

He gaped, staring at you in shock, before hurt was washing through his body again, the tone of your voice breaking him, each crack and wave as you stared at him, sniffling sadly and clinging to yourself for support. Shifting again, he moved, taking a seat beside you on the couch, and you didn’t move any further away, but you refused to meet his eyes, and he let out a deep sigh. 

“It got bad, and you left! You left me alone!”

“It wasn’t real, sweetheart..” You cut yourself off before even saying your next words, raising your eyes to look at him, before you were whimpereing a little under your breath, and he tried to inch a little closer to you now. 

“It wasn’t?”

“No, it just felt real.” He offered a hand out, placing it on your knee slowly as you watched him go, but he smiled a little when you didn’t push him away or back off, your tense stance slipping away a little as exhaustion too over, the fight or flight instinct slipping out of your body and leaving you with nothing but aches and pains, and very tired. “I promise, I would never leave you. I’m sorry I helped them, but you did so well, sweetheart, and now you’ll never have to do it again.”

“It’s all over?”

“It’s all over.” You only nodded, wiping your cheeks on your sleeve, and he could see how sensitive and sore the puffy skin must been, your eyes red, just like the tip of your nose, and he watched as you seemed to process the information, cogs working inside your mind as you became yourself again.

“You won’t leave me?”

“Never. I promise.” You let out a slow breath, before you were uncurling your body and slumping down onto the couch cushions. He offered his hands, standing and pulling you to your own feet, and your legs almost buckled underneath yourself. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.” 

You grinned a little at that, and he didn’t realise just how much he’d been longing to see that expression on your face again until he was seeing it now. He helped you put on your jacket, and grabbed his coat, patting down his pockets for his keys, tugging them out as you signed your name and the time in the visitor book at the front reception, mumbling a goodbye to the friendly receptionist who wished you a good evening, before you were on your way with him out of the clinic. “I just want to go home, now.”

He wasn’t sure you even knew you’d said the words, but he nodded anyway, holding the car door open for you and letting you hop up into the seat. 

He quickly followed your actions, and he couldn’t get away from the therapy practice fast enough, watching in his mirrors as it faded away into her distance, until it was blocked by other buildings and he could no longer see it, finally feeling like he could relax fully. You were safe, and conscious again, and he knew you never had to go back. You’d forgiven him, and so maybe now he could forgive himself, and he felt like the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel could let up. 

You were playing with the music channels, settling on a classical music station, the low notes of piano and guitar filling the vehicle, and it was soothing to say the least, feeling like each little melody helped to lift away his fears and wash it from his mind, and you were hypnotised by the headlights of other cars, watching as they flashed by along the roads as he took various turns, before you were sitting up a little straighter, staring out of the glass at the road.

“No, no, Mitch. I want to go home.”

He turned, glancing at you quickly, and fixing you with a puzzled look, but you didn’t see it, staring out on the garden with concern once again. “That’s where we’re going, you live here.”

“No, I don’t want to go to where I live.” You reached over, your hand resting on his arm, squeezing urgently as he slowed down the car. “I want to go to our home.”

Mitch felt his heart leap in his chest, lost for words for a second, before he was only nodding, driving right past your building and picking up speed once again, and he didn’t miss the relieved noise you made as he did. “Okay, sweetheart. We can go home.”

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp/reader #mitch rapp american assassin #mitchtober #mitch-tober #mitch month #dylan obrien mitch rapp #dylan obrien american assassin #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien

[mc-critical]

I don't know if it was asked before, but what do you think about Valide and Beyhan Sultan? I know she is not her real daughter in history, but in the show she still called her daughter and in episode 102 Hatice said they have the same mother and father. Yet...I think Valide was a little more careless to her if you compare her love for Hatice. Show didn't give us many details about Beyhan and her past, but for a mother who got sick just after hearing her daughter got betrayed (Hatice-Ibrahim), her reaction and care for Beyhan after Beyhan's husband death seemed...low and weak to me. Maybe it's because she is older, or wasn't with her for years like Hatice, what do you think? :)

I never got such an ask before, don't worry. :)

Valide wasn't shown to be that close to her daughters other than Hatice, but this could be more because of their place of introduction - Şah and Fatma got introduced in the third and fourth seasons respectively and that was when Valide was dead, hence leaving us with no chance to flesh her relationship with them out. Still it's weird that they got no more than a passing mention by Valide and that was in her monologue in E58. In the case of Beyhan, I feel it has more to do with Beyhan's prominence in the story - she was (unfortunately) barely around and when she was around, she was usually around for emotional support to other characters, which also didn't truly allow a detailed development. Not to mention that Beyhan was usually supporting Hatice, her most fleshed out relationship which consisted of separate scenes between them and limited even further her interactions with her mother. The sisters so often seemed to be a family that's independent of Valide, even though they consider her a part of it as well, maybe because they can share stuff with each other that Hafsa would reprimand them for or simply not understand. It's like the dynastic family learns to rely on each other first and foremost, something both Şah and Hatice advocated for and Beyhan seemed to be on board with. No matter how strong her will to cut her family out was after the execution of her husband was, she didn't cut Hatice or Şah out, even when she appeared to resent Hatice as much as Hafsa from trying to distract her while SS was executing the punishment of her husband to the point of claiming she would understand only when SS executes Ibrahim, too.

Despite of any and all shortcomings, Beyhan was the second closest daughter to Hafsa. It's true that they didn't get much chance to interact - just like Şah and Fatma, Beyhan was far from the harem and had a very solid life for so long. They were miles apart and she could visit only so much, but still they were always happy to see each other. Beyhan also holds family in a high regard and is shown to be a very stable and mature character for the little screentime she had. It's probable Valide took Hatice in her wing because of the death and misery she experienced, in contrast to Beyhan's relatively calm life far away. There's clearly a strive for protection of the daughter that seemed to have experienced more sorrow and not have a marriage where she could take her own life into her hands. Sure, at first Valide thought that's the reason for her sorrow (and it was, along with her love for Ibrahim, rendered impossible by the customs in the harem in her eyes) and tried to marry her as soon as possible, but there's a hint of favoritism Beyhan is aware of and mentioned to Şah - that Hatice is Valide's favourite daughter, the one closest to her, the one who is inspired by her and the biggest witness of the dynastic virtues Valide had and wanted everyone else to follow. Hatice being alongside Valide the most out of every other daughter of hers would normally trigger another kind of sentiment, different than anything else she had with the others. Being together everyday and being a long distance away does make a difference. And since Valide knew Beyhan was fine (before E21), she had no reason or need to bond with her all the more or visit her that much all these years before E21 happened (Beyhan visited instead). The system encourages the dynastic sultanas to have a separate life outside of the castle and that's something that's considered normal both for Valide and Beyhan, so why would that be of worry? They still had a pretty decent connection for such circumstances. As seen in E14 and E21, Valide and Beyhan were pretty fine until that scene happened.

Beyhan confronting everyone after her husband's execution is a very important scene for her, because all of her familial ties seem to be breaking apart. She is shown to be a big emotional support to everyone else afterwards, but here, it's like no one fully understood what she went through. Similarly to the way they were trying to help Hatice get over Ibrahim in S03, here Beyhan appears to feel the same Hatice felt. They were trying the way they knew how, but they weren't helping. And what's worse, while with Hatice they were mostly saying that it would pass, with Beyhan they try to justify SS's decision. They're right, yes, because the audience knows that he was a continuous traitor, but Beyhan didn't and couldn't see it that way (at least not yet) and they didn't understand. Only Hatice tried to understand, but to Beyhan that all was just empty words, because Hatice was trying to empathize, but how could she empathize when she doesn't know the actual extent of that pain? Valide also didn't understand. And she couldn't understand. She wasn't truly willing to go beyond what had to be done and consolation while justifying the object of Beyhan's rage would in no way work at that moment. Beyhan was indeed disappointed by everyone then, which caused her to detach herself to all these alleged familial values, because that was almost fully destroyed. And while SS was the most culpable in this aspect and Beyhan was aware of that, Valide (and Hatice) also plays a part in this with her bad attempts to console. And Beyhan's actions are totally understandable.

Still, we should note that Valide didn't react in the same way she did when she found out about Ibrahim's affair, because the situations were inherently different. Ibrahim's infidelity seemed to be both a bigger and more personal issue than Ferhat's execution. Or actually, Ferhat's execution was a necessity regardless, in spite of Beyhan's feelings, something that needed to be done for "the order to be kept" after so many betrayals from the pasha, while with Ibrahim we have a situation with a whole cascade of consequences and many, too ruthless executions. It would not only hurt Hatice's feelings, but it would distort all the balance and piece of the dynasty in a massive way. We once again circle back to Beyhan being more stable as a character, we see that, but Valide also knows that and she may not have expected Beyhan to want to cut herself out from everyone like that. She expected her to understand the necessity of the execution anyway, but with Hatice she knew that wouldn't be possible because of all she suffered because of Ibrahim and the fragile state of her mind. Beyhan was different in that regard and even though they lived far from each other, I believe Valide knew that about her daughter. And we see that Beyhan did the right call in cutting herself out for a bit and took things far better than Hatice did when it came to her husband's death because of it.

We should hand it to Hafsa for still trying numerous times to stop Ferhat's execution before it happened. It showed that she was perfectly able to take and did take the feelings of her children into consideration, because she knew that would hurt Beyhan in some ways and used that as an argument in front of SS. This even made him wait and postpone the decision as much as he could. But really, Valide took account of Beyhan's feelings, but I feel her reaction went past her worst expectations. There is also the angle of Valide's motherhood and value of family being in conflict with her immense care for tradition. (both layers of her character were in accordance in Hatice's case.)

And ultimately, Beyhan realized that a punishment for her husband was in order (but exile, not execution!), reunited with Hatice, regretting her earlier words to her, and came to mourn Hafsa after all, but the wound still remained and I don't think she let it go completely. She didn't come in the harem (except for E84 when Hatice called Hürrem out for the entertainment), which could mean that there's a part of her that would never go back there because of the lingering memory. And that included both SS and Valide.

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #beyhan sultan #ayse hafsa sultan #ask #ganeshkfp #beyhan's character is soo interesting when one starts to analyze her #and that's even with the amoung of screentime she had #they had to give her more screentime #the potential was practically limitless #then again if she was there more they could have just put her in intrigues #because the writers love repetions #but still there's hope because say 3 sisters against Hü in S03B would be too much #and it would be sorta OOC for Beyhan too? #and also Valide's relationships with her daughters are interesting to think about #i have a separate headcanon of Şah heh #*amount

[the-incapable-hero]

He Already Fell Long Ago. Now is His Chance To Realize It.

It was a bad day.

Ranboo had a lot of those. He knew that he did since emotions lingered longer than memories. He could never recall faces or voices or places, only ever recognizing them when he laid eyes on them. Though… sometimes he'd have a breakthrough. He'd recall an action and the person he associated with it. Though in the end, he supposed all that mattered was what he wrote in his book.

He shivered as the sun dipped below the horizon. He'd been walking for a while, that much he knew by the numbness in his clawed fingers. His ears were aching and felt like they had pressure over them, but Ranboo knew better than to think that was really the case. Instead, he ignored it in favor of focusing on his trek.

Not that he could really do that either. He silently cursed his species-split mind that only ever remembered things he desperately wanted to forget. He didn't even know if he was going in the right direction as the blizzard stung his skin, and the day's memory was playing on repeat constantly. It made his gut sink and his hunched spine quiver.

Yelling. Shaking. Fear. And, most prominent of all, guilt. Guilt would never leave him alone until the day he died. A terrible fate really. But he couldn't help it. After what he'd done, he had already come to the conclusion that his friends' outbursts were completely justified. He'd done something bad and he knew it. Could he go back? Would they ever want him back? They couldn't possibly. And if even they didn't want him back, then he really had nobody left. He deserved it though. He knew he was a bad person, now more than ever. There couldn't possibly be another conclusion, no matter how much this one stung like water to his bare skin.

Though his broken thoughts were cut short as Ranboo suddenly found himself on the ground, just barely feeling the dry grass under several inches of his cradle of snow. He wouldn't remember how he ended up parallel to the landscape, but his thoughts as the aforementioned palette of snow faded to a hazy ink color would stick with him for so long that he wouldn't even think to record it in his memory book.

'If this is where I end, then at least I'll be as frozen and idle as my own soul.'

Then, as all feeling left his body, there was a brief, ever so temporary and precious moment of peace.

But he was not meant to fall into the prolonged version of that peace just yet. Rather, he awoke to his closed eyes and feeling returning to his body. Though, instead of frigid snow circling his face, he was greeted with the tickle of something that smelled to him like gardens. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was right. Surrounding his overly tall figure was a patch of thriving golden flowers that looked to be illuminated by a natural light from above.

He sat up of his own volition, which just so happened to be very slowly and carefully, so that he could take in the scenery around him. Though there wasn't much to see other than the flowers and the skylight that seemed to reach up forever. Though there was something about himself that he took note of and didn't at all appreciate. He was dripping with frozen slush from the tundra he wasn't even sure others would call his home anymore. The melting snow had soaked through his clothes and stung his skin. He knew it couldn't physically damage him, but it still hurt like no tomorrow, to the point that he thought for a split second that the flowers may have had some terrible thorns or barbed stickers that would cling to your skin and not let go.

Ranboo shuddered at the thought and opted to try standing. Again, it took him a considerable amount of time, but there was nobody there to rush him. Only when he was standing did he feel it appropriate to start entertaining ideas as to where he could be. He didn't panic, of course. He was too used to waking up in unfamiliar places for that. Calmer than anyone else would be in such a situation, he marched forward. 

Though, "marched" might not be the right word. Too forceful. Truthfully, Ranboo stepped completely silently down the… cave? Tunnel? He wasn't too sure yet. Either way, he was off to investigate, any previous concerns put to the side for now.

And, whether luckily or unluckily he'd never know, virtually no time passed before he spotted another actual being to talk to.

But the smile pasted on the face of the especially lively flower reminded him of weeks past, and he was immediately reminded of his guilt and his fear of that forsaken smile. And to his horror, it spoke, seemingly not caring that Ranboo had frozen in place in such a way that he was much too far away from the flower so that his entire form was obscured by shadow, in great contrast to the secondary skylight that illuminated the chillingly familiar bloom.

"Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower! You're new to the Underground, aren't 'cha?"

__________

Cringe culture is dead and screw this I wrote it on impulse at 2am you don't get to make fun of me I wrote this after a mental breakdown and I'm totally going to regret posting this but you know what screw it I'm putting it on the main tag

#ranboo #dream smp #fanfic #crossover #undertale #this is so weird #it's on ao3 #just in case anyone wanted to find it there too for some reason #I'm going to bed now #lol sleep whats that