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seakittens · 2 years

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Makoto Needs Reciprocity

I’ve been sitting on some... feelings about Final Stroke 2 for a few days now. You probably saw a hint of this in the WTF section of my review. So I guess I want to talk a bit about MH and reciprocity, especially in the wake of the final movie.

Um, this is going to be ship-critical because of the nature of this discussion and my personal feelings. So I’m putting that out there now. If MH-critical discussion bothers you, I suggest you scroll past this. I just needed to get this out of my system because it keeps pestering me.

First to get this out of the way, I believe Makoto is romantically in love with Haru. I believe he had a crush as a child and it blossomed as he grew older. I believe that Haru loves Makoto dearly. As a friend. Makoto will always be someone special and precious to Haru. Haru will always want to protect Makoto and see him happy. He will support him however he can.

But Haru will never match the intensity of Makoto's feelings toward him. There was a time when I believed that Haru's muted response toward Makoto's constant confessions was simply Haru's difficulties with his own emotional expression. When he was young, he was borderline terrified of his own emotions. And the first time he allowed himself to cut loose and really feel things again (a little during their time with Rin and then with the High Speed gang), he was almost immediately crushed by the pain of those emotions. When he had his falling out with middle school Rin.

I understood that Haru essentially closed himself off to deeper emotions after that point, although he remained attached and close to his dearest friend, Makoto. Rin's return and Haru's involvement in the swimming club kicks those emotions back into gear and has him recognize and acknowledge them once more. But he still hits roadblocks now and then, as seen with his struggles in Eternal Summer.

For these reasons, Haru's lack of response to statements like "It's meaningless without you" or "I like Haru-chan" or "Because I wanted to swim with you" made sense to me. They weren't a big deal. That's just who Haru is, I thought. And it's not to say these moments don't AFFECT Haru. They do. They resonate. He just... doesn't reciprocate. Ever.

Except that my belief that this lack of response is just who Haru is hit some hard opposition. Firstly, Haru pretty clearly realizes and says he wants to swim with Rin. He pretty clearly gets in Rin's face about how Rin makes him feel. Yes, you can argue that Haru is forced to since Rin is so passionate, whereas Makoto is gentle and subdued. Except... not when he's expressing his feelings. Makoto is pretty dang emotional and uses some heavy, heavy phrases to encompass the depth of his feelings. But when he does it... Haru's response has always been... different. Minimal or almost subdued.

Wait, you say, Haru was EXTREMELY emotional when he thought Makoto was leaving him in Eternal Summer. And to this, I challenge that it was not Makoto leaving that made Haru emotional. It was the realization that this solidarity he had built around Makoto, that Makoto also had no idea what to do with his life either... was a lie. That Haru truly was alone in being without a dream. And that Makoto had known this for some time and kept it from him. Haru is upset that he's losing his one constant, the belief that him and Makoto are on the same page. And this is what shatters him. And makes him snap at his best friend, something he feels awful about for most of Episode 12.

And you can say, well when Rin pours out his heart about how much he admires Haru, Haru has nothing to say. And you are right. Except... he does give Rin some crucial reciprocity. When a very shy and unsure Rin brings up their very first tournament, the thing that basically made him instantly fall for Haru, Haru tells him that he DOES remember it. Despite it being super far back. This is huge for Rin since it's what allows him to open up fully and not be so docile around Haru the rest of the episode. Not to mention, that Haru managed this while depressed out of his mind. And he didn't say that FOR RIN, but because it honestly mattered to him. It left an impression.

Fast forward to Take Your Marks, where Haru is terrified that Rin will quit swimming and actually goes out of his way to call and confront Rin. Something he's NEVER done before. Because it's that important to him. He launches into a full confession of how Rin has changed his life and made him feel. This isn't about anyone else. This is about Rin.

I don't bring these examples up to be like lol RH vs MH, but to show that Haru CAN demonstrate reciprocal feelings and CAN tell others how he feels while knowing how they feel. Haru isn't expressing all this to Rin in a vacuum. He is very aware of Rin's own intense feelings toward him. And he's still comfortable with stating his own.

Again, we see this in Final Stroke 1, where Haru tells Rin how he's pulled him along and brought him to this stage and how he wants to swim with him and Ikuya. This is what really gets to me about the MH relationship and reciprocity. I can't remember Haru ever telling Makoto that he wants to swim with HIM. Not with the team. Not with Iwatobi (either HS or Free version). But with HIM. Maybe it's because that's a given and he can always swim with Makoto, you might say. Well, then why does Makoto frequently express the desire to swim with Haru? Makoto constantly professes how much Haru's swimming means to him and how much swimming with Haru means to him. Haru has never said the same.

Finally, we get to THE SCENE in Final Stroke 2. Where once more Makoto discusses his feelings with Haru via a story about their childhood. That Haru's reaction is nothing more than to say he doesn't remember is just... I don't even know. It felt in-character but also was a stark reminder of the vast difference between the intense way Makoto feels about Haru and the subdued (but still loving) way Haru feels about him. Again, compare to how he talks to Rin in the night pool, where he tells him he taught him important things. Where we get another version of their Final Stroke 1 fight, where he says he wants Rin swimming in the lane next to him. Not Ikuya and Rin. Rin. Where at the end of the movie when Rin asks him if he wants to know how their shared dream goes, Haru CONFIDENTLY says yes.

Again, Haru is no longer a person who can't express his emotions. He hits snags, yes. But is 100% capable of saying what he feels when he puts his mind to it. His lack of reciprocity toward Makoto cannot be chalked up to "that's just how Haru is." It's not. It's just how Haru is WITH MAKOTO. And for whatever reason that is, whether Haru assumes Makoto already knows how he feels or feels comfortable enough with Makoto to not have to say anything, it creates an uneven dynamic. Because Makoto still feels like he has to say things. Or at least WANTS to.

And this never bothered me to the degree that it does in Final Stroke 2. That scene where Haru says he doesn't remember this memory that Makoto has been holding onto for two whole movies is just really rough. I felt BAD for Makoto. I truly felt in that moment that Haru was simply not capable of reciprocating Makoto's feelings on the level Makoto needed/wanted. And I guess Makoto's learned to accept that and be happy with what he has. I just find it kind of unfair.

Especially when I compare it with Makoto’s relationship with Rin. Which has surprisingly way more reciprocity than Haru and him. Rin tells Makoto how he feels about him, about how intuitive he is and how he's capable of great things. He ask about his future. He says things to make him feel better or to bolster his confidence. He's super happy to hear about Makoto's career decisions. And Makoto returns the favor with the same level of support. He tells Rin that he changed him as a person and that he admires Rin. He checks on him when he's worried about him. He invites him to do things. And MOST IMPORTANTLY, Rin says he wants to swim with Makoto. Yeah, you can argue it's not explicit in Timeless Medley but it's still there. And it's far more Makoto-specific than Haru has ever said.

Since I know Haru CAN reciprocate and that reciprocation (as given by Rin) makes Makoto HAPPY, I just cannot vibe with MH as a ship. It is just not reciprocated. Again, people are free to ship whatever. This is just my personal reasons for why it doesn't work for me. And why Final Stroke 2 really drove that home.

(I was also reminded of how JEALOUS Makoto is, especially of Rin. Which is not a great indicator of someone who feels comfortable in his relationship with another person... This has come up at least twice now. Once, in Eternal Summer, and then heavily implied in Dive to the Future. Again, this is someone who NEEDS acknowledgement to feel confidence in himself. And he’s not getting it...)

Oh and while we're at it, no Haru did not go to Tokyo for Makoto. He went because he was scouted. The creators have said as much to explain why he's in Hidaka. So this does not count as reciprocity. And even if it did, it's not the reciprocity that Makoto WANTS or NEEDS.

Btw, I still want to tackle Makoto’s entire arc as portrayed through the end of Final Stroke 2, to fully wrap my head around whether it was truly realized and whether Makoto is FINALLY his own person. (Spoilers: I think he is) But I do want actual subs before I take on that topic. Since I want to be able to make a full analysis.

#meta #i'm not putting other tags since this is mostly for me #i don't want people to find this by accident and get upset #but this character does matter to me and has for a long time #so i wanted to say how i felt about this aspect of his character

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qqueenofhades · 5 years

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Re: the post you reblogged about Bush. I'm 21 and tbh feel like I can only vote for Bernie, can you explain if/why I shouldn't? Thanks and sorry if this is dumb or anything.

Oh boy. Okay, I’ll do my best here. Note that a) this will get long, and b) I’m old, Tired, and I‘m pretty sure my brain tried to kill me last night. Since by nature I am sure I will say something Controversial ™, if anyone reads this and feels a deep urge to inform me that I am Wrong, just… mark it down as me being Wrong and move on with your life. But also, really, you should read this and hopefully think about it. Because while I’m glad you asked this question, it feels like there’s a lot in your cohort who won’t, and that worries me. A lot.

First, not to sound utterly old-woman-in-a-rocking-chair ancient, people who came of age/are only old enough to have Obama be the first president that they really remember have no idea how good they had it. The world was falling the fuck apart in 2008 (not coincidentally, after 8 years of Bush). We came within a flicker of the permanent collapse of the global economy. The War on Terror was in full roar, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were at their height, we had Dick Cheney as the cartoon supervillain before we had any of Trump’s cohort, and this was before Chelsea Manning or Edward Snowden had exposed the extent of NSA/CIA intelligence-gathering/American excesses or there was any kind of public debate around the fact that we were all surveilled all the time. And the fact that a brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama was elected in this climate seems, and still seems tbh, kind of amazing. And Obama was certainly not a Perfect President ™. He had to scale back a lot of planned initiatives, he is notorious for expanding the drone strike/extrajudicial assassination program, he still subscribed to the overall principles of neoliberalism and American exceptionalism, etc etc. There is valid criticism to be made as to how the hopey-changey optimistic rhetoric stacked up against the hard realities of political office. And yet…. at this point, given what we’re seeing from the White House on a daily basis, the depth of the parallel universe/double standards is absurd.

Because here’s the thing. Obama, his entire family, and his entire administration had to be personally/ethically flawless the whole time (and they managed that – not one scandal or arrest in eight years, against the legions of Trumpistas now being convicted) because of the absolute frothing depths of Republican hatred, racial conspiracy theories, and obstruction against him. (Remember Merrick Garland and how Mitch McConnell got away with that, and now we have Gorsuch and Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court? Because I remember that). If Obama had pulled one-tenth of the shit, one-twentieth of the shit that the Trump administration does every day, he would be gone. It also meant that people who only remember Obama think he was typical for an American president, and he wasn’t. Since about… Jimmy Carter, and definitely since Ronald Reagan, the American people have gone for the Trump model a lot more than the Obama model. Whatever your opinion on his politics or character, Obama was a constitutional law professor, a community activist, a neighborhood organizer and brilliant Ivy League intellectual who used to randomly lie awake at night thinking about income inequality. Americans don’t value intellectualism in their politicians; they just don’t. They don’t like thinking that “the elites” are smarter than them. They like the folksy populist who seems fun to have a beer with, and Reagan/Bush Senior/Clinton/Bush Junior sold this persona as hard as they possibly could. As noted in said post, Bush Junior (or Shrub as the late, great Molly Ivins memorably dubbed him) was Trump Lite but from a long-established political family who could operate like an outwardly civilized human.

The point is: when you think Obama was relatively normal (which, again, he wasn’t, for any number of reasons) and not the outlier in a much larger pattern of catastrophic damage that has been accelerated since, again, the 1980s (oh Ronnie Raygun, how you lastingly fucked us!), you miss the overall context in which this, and which Trump, happened. Like most left-wingers, I don’t agree with Obama’s recent and baffling decision to insert himself into the 2020 race and warn the Democratic candidates against being too progressive or whatever he was on about. I think he was giving into the same fear that appears to be motivating the remaining chunk of Joe Biden’s support: that middle/working-class white America won’t go for anything too wild or that might sniff of Socialism, and that Uncle Joe, recalled fondly as said folksy populist and the internet’s favorite meme grandfather from his time as VP, could pick up the votes that went to Trump last time. And that by nature, no one else can.

The underlying belief is that these white voters just can’t support anything too “un-American,” and that by pushing too hard left, Democratic candidates risk handing Trump a second term. Again: I don’t agree and I think he was mistaken in saying it. But I also can’t say that Obama of all people doesn’t know exactly the strength of the political machine operating against the Democratic Party and the progressive agenda as a whole, because he ran headfirst into it for eight years. The fact that he managed to pass any of his legislative agenda, usually before the Tea Party became a thing in 2010, is because Democrats controlled the House and Senate for the first two years of his first term. He was not perfect, but it was clear that he really did care (just look up the pictures of him with kids). He installed smart, efficient, and scandal-free people to do jobs they were qualified for. He gave us Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor to join RBG on the Supreme Court. All of this seems… like a dream.

That said: here we are in a place where Biden, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren are the front-runners for the Democratic nomination (and apparently Pete Buttigieg is getting some airplay as a dark horse candidate, which… whatever). The appeal of Biden is discussed above, and he sure as hell is not my favored candidate (frankly, I wish he’d just quit). But Sanders and Warren are 85% - 95% similar in their policy platforms. The fact that Michael “50 Billion Dollar Fortune” Bloomberg started rattling his chains about running for president is because either a Sanders or Warren presidency terrifies the outrageously exploitative billionaire capitalist oligarchy that runs this country and has been allowed to proceed essentially however the fuck they like since… you guessed it, the 1980s, the era of voodoo economics, deregulation, and the free market above all. Warren just happens to be ten years younger than Sanders and female, and Sanders’ age is not insignificant. He’s 80 years old and just had a heart attack, and there’s still a year to go to the election. It’s also more than a little eye-rolling to describe him as the only progressive candidate in the race, when he’s an old white man (however much we like and approve of his policy positions). And here’s the thing, which I think is a big part of the reason why this polarized ideological purity internet leftist culture mistrusts Warren:

She may have changed her mind on things in the past.

Scary, right? I sound like I’m being facetious, but I’m not. An argument I had to read with my own two eyes on this godforsaken hellsite was that since Warren became a Democrat around the time Clinton signed Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, she sekritly hated gay people and might still be a corporate sellout, so on and etcetera. (And don’t even get me STARTED on the fact that DADT, coming a few years after the height of the AIDS crisis which was considered God’s Judgment of the Icky Gays, was the best Clinton could realistically hope to achieve, but this smacks of White Gay Syndrome anyway and that is a whole other kettle of fish.) Bernie has always demonstrably been a democratic socialist, and: good for him. I’m serious. But because there’s the chance that Warren might not have thought exactly as she does now at any point in her life, the hysterical and paranoid left-wing elements don’t trust that she might not still secretly do so. (Zomgz!) It’s the same element that’s feeding cancel culture and “wokeness.” Nobody can be allowed to have shifted or grown in their opinions or, like a functional, thoughtful, non-insane adult, changed their beliefs when presented with compelling evidence to the contrary. To the ideological hordes, any hint of uncertainty or past failure to completely toe the line is tantamount to heresy. Any evidence of any other belief except The Correct One means that this person is functionally as bad as Trump. And frankly, it’s only the Sanders supporters who, just as in 2016, are threatening to withhold their vote in the general election if their preferred candidate doesn’t win the primary, and indeed seem weirdly proud about it.

OK, boomer Bernie or Buster.

Here’s the thing, the thing, the thing: there is never going to be an American president free of the deeply toxic elements of American ideology. There just won’t be. This country has been built how it has for 250 years, and it’s not gonna change. You are never going to have, at least not in the current system, some dream candidate who gets up there and parrots the left-wing talking points and attacks American imperialism, exceptionalism, ravaging global capitalism, military and oil addiction, etc. They want to be elected as leader of a country that has deeply internalized and taken these things to heart for its entire existence, and most of them believe it to some degree themselves. So this groupthink white liberal mentality where the only acceptable candidate is this Perfect Non-Problematic robot who has only ever had one belief their entire lives and has never ever wavered in their devotion to doctrine has really gotten bad. The Democratic Party would be considered… maybe center/mild left in most other developed countries. It’s not even really left-wing by general standards, and Sanders and Warren are the only two candidates for the nomination who are even willing to go there and explicitly put out policy proposals that challenge the systematic structure of power, oppression, and exploitation of the late-stage capitalist 21st century. Warren has the billionaires fussed, and instead of backing down, she’s doubling down. That’s part of why they’re so scared of her. (And also misogyny, because the world is depressing like that.) She is going head-on after picking a fight with some of the worst people on the planet, who are actively killing the rest of us, and I don’t know about you, but I like that.

Of course: none of this will mean squat if she (or the eventual Democratic winner, who I will vote for regardless of who it is, but as you can probably tell, she’s my ride or die) don’t a) win the White House and then do as they promised on the campaign trail, and b) don’t have a Democratic House and Senate willing to have a backbone and pass the laws. Even Nancy Pelosi, much as she’s otherwise a badass, held off on opening a formal impeachment inquiry into Trump for months out of fear it would benefit him, until the Ukraine thing fell into everyone’s laps. The Democrats are really horrible at sticking together and voting the party line the way Republicans do consistently, because Democrats are big-tent people who like to think of themselves as accepting and tolerant of other views and unwilling to force their members’ hands. The Republicans have no such qualms (and indeed, judging by their enabling of Trump, have no qualms at all).

The modern American Republican party has become a vehicle for no-holds-barred power for rich white men at the expense of absolutely everything and everyone else, and if your rationale is that you can’t vote for the person opposing Donald Goddamn Trump is that you’re just not vibing with them on the language of that one policy proposal… well, I’m glad that you, White Middle Class Liberal, feel relatively safe that the consequences of that decision won’t affect you personally. Even if we’re due to be out of the Paris Climate Accords one day after the 2020 election, and the issue of climate change now has the most visibility it’s ever had after years of big-business, Republican-led efforts to deny and discredit the science, hey, Secret Corporate Shill, am I right? Can’t trust ‘er. Let’s go have a craft beer.

As has been said before: vote as far left as you want in the primary. Vote your ideology, vote whatever candidate you want, because the only way to make actual, real-world change is to do that. The huge, embedded, all-consuming and horrible system in which we operate is not just going to suddenly be run by fairy dust and happy thoughts overnight. Select candidates that reflect your values exactly, be as picky and ideologically militant as you want. That’s the time to do that! Then when it comes to the general election:

America is a two-party system. It sucks, but that’s the case. Third-party votes, or refraining from voting because “it doesn’t matter” are functionally useless at best and actively harmful at worst.

Either the Democratic candidate or Donald Trump will win the 2020 election.

There is absolutely no length that the Republican/GOP machine, and its malevolent allies elsewhere, will not go to in order to secure a Trump victory. None.

Any talk whatsoever about “progressive values” or any kind of liberal activism, coupled with a course of action that increases the possibility of a Trump victory, is hypocritical at best and actively malicious at worst.

This is why I found the Democratic response to Obama’s “don’t go too wild” comments interesting. Bernie doubled down on the fact that his plans have widespread public support, and he’s right. (Frankly, the fact that Sanders and Warren are polling at the top, and the fact that they’re politicians and would not be crafting these campaign messages if they didn’t know that they were being positively received, says plenty on its own). Warren cleverly highlighted and praised Obama’s accomplishments in office (i.e. the Affordable Care Act) and didn’t say squat about whether she agreed or disagreed with him, then went right back to campaigning about why billionaires suck. And some guy named Julian Castro basically blew Obama off and claimed that “any Democrat” could beat Trump in 2020, just by nature of existing and being non-insane.

This is very dangerous! Do not be Julian Castro!

As I said in my tags on the Bush post: everyone assumed that sensible people would vote for Kerry in 2004. Guess what happened? Yeah, he got Swift Boated. The race between Obama and McCain in 2008, even after those said nightmare years of Bush, was very close until the global crash broke it open in Obama’s favor, and Sarah Palin was an actual disqualifier for a politician being brazenly incompetent and unprepared. (Then again, she was a woman from a remote backwater state, not a billionaire businessman.) In 2012, we thought Corporate MormonBot Mitt Fuggin’ Romney was somehow the worst and most dangerous candidate the Republicans could offer. In 2016, up until Election Day itself, everyone assumed that HRC was a badly flawed candidate but would win anyway. And… we saw how that worked out. Complacency is literally deadly.

I was born when Reagan was still president. I’m just old enough to remember the efforts to impeach Clinton over forcing an intern to give him a BJ in the Oval Office (This led by the same Republicans making Donald Trump into a darling of the evangelical Christian right wing.) I’m definitely old enough to remember 9/11 and how America lost its mind after that, and I remember the Bush years. And, obviously, the contrast with Obama, the swing back toward Trump, and everything that has happened since. We can’t afford to do this again. We’re hanging by a thread as it is, and not just America, but the entire planet.

So yes. By all means, vote for Sanders in the primary. Then when November 3, 2020 rolls around, if you care about literally any of this at all, hold your nose if necessary and vote straight-ticket Democrat, from the president, to the House and Senate, to the state and local offices. I cannot put it more strongly than that.

#politics for ts #long post #anonymous #ask

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heauxzenji · 4 years

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I just came across you nsfw with Osamu and I really enjoyed it I was wondering if You could do one for Kita?

Hi love! This is for u 💕 and all the kita fuckers worldwide- myself included bc I’m in love with him now 🥺

NSFW Alphabet - Kita Shinsuke

Nsfw below da cut g

gn!reader focus in this hoe

A/n: ty @honey-makki for being my partner in degeneracy and my wife ilysm bc she can read when I can’t

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

Will feed you a full meal. His way of making sure you’re cared for is keeping you well fed. He will cuddle you and spoon feed you himself if he has to, as long as you eat every single bite. He has a routine for everything, aftercare is no exception. He runs you a bath, then, while you soak, he cooks. Will make sure to throw a hoodie in the dryer before heading to the kitchen so it'll be warm for you post shower. Then he feeds you and holds you, playing with your hair or your hands until you fall asleep.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

You already know what the fuck is going onnnn! Kita is honestly so well sculpted that it really doesn’t matter but let’s talk about his back/shoulders. He’s so mf broad and it's very sexc of him. He’s also very fond of when you cling onto and scratch it up…. delicious

He loves your hands. He loves to hold them, especially when he’s looking straight into your eyes as he drills the hell out of you- he’ll lift one up and kiss it bc ✨romance✨

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Oh he’s going to fill you so full of cum that it pours out of your ears. He has a big breeding kink, and huge loads to match. But he’s also very healthy and takes good care of himself so his cum isn’t bad on your tongue on the off chance he hasn’t already cum inside you 600 times prior to finally doing so in your mouth. And he’s going to kiss you after- very sexc of him.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Lost his virginity in a barn. Got a tick on his ass of all places. The barn isn’t the secret tho... the tick is.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

When you got together- he was definitely a virgin. Had only gone as far as MAYBE second base. But you used that to your advantage, because you’ve essentially built him up and trained him to be PERFECT for you. You also helped him find out what he likes and what makes him feel good too. Sure there was a lil’ corruption involved, but in the end you’re both very happy with your sex life.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Full on mf wrestling mating press. He’s going to have his cock so deep inside of you that if he even pushed a bit more his body is gonna go in too. Then he’ll just live there. He’s fine with that.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Unintentionally so. Every once in a while, you’ll both giggle or laugh because you have to reposition when you start to cramp up or you accidentally hit him in the face when tying to pull him closer or something. But he’s a firm believer in the whole “if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with you shouldn’t have sex with them” addage, so he’s very grateful for those light moments.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

It could definitely be neater. He isn’t abysmal, but he is hairy and could stand to trim a tiiiny bit more often. He’s just very low maintenance down there. As long as it’s clean he's good, which is both true and a decent place to start but pls tell him to get a little off the top of you know what I mean.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈y

He’s! So! Loving! He’s always going to go the extra mile to make you feel special. He likes to keep things on the softer side I’d say 8/10 times. He prefers to make love instead of just fucking it out- but if you get into an argument or he’s frustrated, he will happily go hard… but still with candles and a massage. Also I said it already but he’s gonna hold your hands while he demolishes you- interlaced fingers and all that cute shit even tho you’re getting railed.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

His grandma is one of those old ladies that’s like “don’t do that you’ll go blind,” so poor baby was a lil pent up before he got older. Now, he still doesn't do it often, but he does it once a month or so as part of his routine. He uses coconut oil because he likes the smell and that it melts easily.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Breeding, listen it’s just embedded in country boys to fuck and fill. He is no exception.

Spanking, moreso as a way to direct you. Moving too much? slap to stay still. Changing positions? Slap to get you moving. Just wants to see you jiggle? Yeah that too. Motivational slaps also come into play when he wants you to know you’re doing a good job.

Auralism, He LOVES to hear you. The sound of your breath, your moans, the way you chant his name when you’re close… he eats that shit up. It feeds his ego and boosts his pride. He also makes a lot of noise himself, mostly really deep moans but there’s a sprinkling of praise throughout too.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He needs privacy. So he’s definitely one to want to keep it at home or at least somewhere secluded and away, where he knows only you and him are there and will know about it.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He doesn’t care how he does it, but his number one priority, is making sure that you cum. Kita is a giver. And he will make sure to give you whatever you want from him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He’s not into SUPER rough stuff. He’s not vanilla, but he is the kind of guy that sees sex as “lovemaking” so he’s not gonna punch you in the face or throw you around like a ragdoll. It’s just not his style. Of course if it's what you want, he will… but never expect him to ever bring it up or do so on his own.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Ok so- he's… teachable. I’m not gonna lie, he would start off as absolute trash. But the good thing about him is how adaptable he is, and how willing he is to learn. You’d have to have him work at it a lot but once he gets good he’s great. He’ll love the feeling of accomplishment he gets from you getting off with only his mouth- it does wonders for his pride.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s very even- until he starts to get close. When he’s close he’s going to speed up so much that you have to brace yourself against anything that’ll hold you. He is definitely a headboard grabber too.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He likes to take his time with you. For that reason, he isn’t a huge fan. You would really have to convince him that it's worth it. He doesn’t see the point in instant gratification, and thinks you should be patient. Good things come to those who wait and all that Kita stop being so stoic and rail me at the farmers market challenge

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Lmfao you think this mans is really gonna go for a public or semi-public scene? Think again. Now, he’s into sex outdoors sure, but only in your fenced in, enclosed backyard. He’s not letting anyone see you point blank periodt, you’re for his eyes only.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Excellent self control. He can hold off on cumming for as long as you need him to. Usually he’ll tap out himself after you’ve gotten through at least 3 of your own highs- but his record is 6. Has a super long refractory period tho- so he does things this way to make sure you get everything you need in one go.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He actually likes using toys on you. He has a bunch of different plugs and vibes that he uses to suit the situation. He prefers to use a hitachi wand on you while he’s fucking you, but all the others he uses for foreplay- or after to keep you full to the brim of his cum.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

You both tease each other absentmindedly. He doesn’t know why he gets so turned on by you scrubbing the floor on all fours (that’s why), but he does. He also doesn’t understand why you think its hot when he cuts firewood in winter or wipes his forehead with his shirt during the summer. He thinks he’s gross and sweaty- but you can only think of a million other ways to make him sweatier.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Listen we stan. He’s not quiet in bed by any means, but he’s not overly loud either. He’s the type who takes deep breaths and then on the exhale let’s out a moan from deep in his chest- you know the one. And he does that shit on purpose. Not really, but he does think of it as his way of letting you know that he feels as good as you feel. Will also 100% hit you with the “is that it baby? Is that the spot?” While you’re practically turning into jello underneath him bc he absolutely knows that’s the spot he just likes to make you say it.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

Wants to recreate the sex scene from tthe notebook with you. He can’t explain why, he just has an unexplainable urge to suck your face off in the rain and then proceed to raw you after peeling all the damp clothes from your body. Please oblige him.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s got the thickness. Not coke Can thickness but like… you remember the Alaskan bull worm from ep of SpongeBob? Well he’s the whole worm, not just the tongue. I’m going to hell for that reference but ya he has a nice dick. The perfect thickness and and I’ll say a pretty good 5.5-6 inches worth. It’s also very veiny on the underside which- yes I love that.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Normal sex drive, since you tend to do it at least 2 times a week. He only seems to get a little needier when you CAN’T have sex regularly- ie, one of you is sick or you’re away from each other. When that happens, he’s a little edgier than usual, can snap sometimes but not often.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s the type to get a second wind after. He’ll only go to sleep after he makes sure all your aftercare needs are met, and even then, he’s only going to power-nap it for maybe 10mins. He’ll stay still and cuddle you while you sleep, but he’ll most likely watch tv or scroll through his phone while you enjoy his warmth. Every once in awhile he’ll give you a kiss while you stir.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith @tsumue @disasteren @hoe4abbacchio @sillykittt @ukaisbaby

#daisy’s red light district 🚨#haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #kita haikyuu #kita x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #hq headcanons #haikyuu hc #haikyuu hcs #hq headcanon #hq writing #hq scenario #haikyuu x y/n #hq x gn!reader

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jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav · 3 years

Note

so since you're gonna do the avatar!mc au with the entities you think each brother would fear the most (SO excited for that btw, my friend can attest to the fact that i've basically been rambling about tma x om nonstop since the first post you made that put the two together), i'd love to hear your thoughts on which entity each brother would *be* an avatar of, if you're cool with sharing! personally i love the ideas of specifically vast!levi and dark!belphie but i'd love to hear your takes on the concept! <3

So because of how time works, despite receiving this ask on July 12, by the time you see this it’ll be August! So the entire Avatar!MC series should be out by now, which I hope you will/have enjoy/ed. I wholeheartedly agree with the concept of Vast! Levi, which I’ve talked about before (as you know ;) ), but I will happily ramble about it again!

These aren’t gonna be short fics though bc I do Yearn to save that energy for The Longfic, which is still in the planning stages because a) I can’t pick a timeline, and b) trying to match up the timelines of Obey Me and TMA is hard, especially when I tend to have a violent disrespect for actually paying attention to the timing of plot events in both. I already fucked up a part of the plotting because I forgot the order we get pacts with the brothers lmao

Content warnings: Mentions/allusions to tma-typical Spookies, yet another installation of my Cursed Crossover idea, lengthy debates about what makes someone choose to become an avatar of fear, spoilers for Lesson 16+ of Obey Me and S5 of TMA

What Entity Do I Think The Brothers Would Serve? (Cursed TMA x Obey Me Crossover)

Lucifer

So I put him as falling victim to the Eye/Beholding bc of his whole thing about Secrets and Pride being about wanting control over your own image

And he does have a creepy tendency in canon to always know when his brothers are up to some Dumb Shit

BUT! You know what we see in Lucifer’s character that we see in a certain Entity?

A simultaneous manipulation of others and submission to being manipulated by a higher power

That’s right, I think Luci would be a Web avatar

But Winter, Lucifer wouldn’t wanna take marching orders from someone/thing else! He’s too proud for that— You’re right! He doesn’t want to. But he will.

He willingly submitted himself and his family to Diavolo for eternity to get what he wanted (saving Lilith)

And from how much we see him work, it’s safe to say that he’s a pretty damn essential part of running the Devildom

If he really wanted to, he could probably successfully pull a coup on Diavolo

But he doesn’t, because he’s trapped himself by his own honour code

Thus, the sexual tension bromance we all know and love/insist is Deeply Problematic and blacklist (depending on how much you like/hate dialuci lol)

10/10, would fill with spiders again

Mammon

I put Mammon as falling victim to the Buried for pretty obvious reasons

But admittedly picking a fear he’d serve is trickier

I had to get a bit abstract with it, but I think the Hunt might suit him

Not necessarily the primal *cough* and police brutality *cough* parts of the Hunt tho

More like how Basira was considered an avatar of the Hunt in the fearpocalypse because of her mission/promise to Daisy

See, Greed can stem from fear

Fear of losing what you have, of no longer being able to support yourself, of being preyed upon by others

So people become greedy as a defense mechanism, to protect what they have

If they’re on the offensive, they won’t be targeted

Also, if you’re constantly pursuing more more more, there’s no time to think about anything else

Like consequences, or guilt, or Feelings

If Mammon let his little tough guy act go too far for too long, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to say he could start heading down the path to avatarhood

After all, people pay big money for hitmen and bounty hunters…

Leviathan

As I said last time, I can see why people would associate Levi with the Lonely first: he’s a shut in, he acts like he wants nothing to do with people/would rather be alone, and I get it

BUT! All of that actually stems from the fact that Levi has terrible self-esteem and thinks he deserves to be this gross shut in loser

While envy can make you want to bring others down to your level, so to speak, Levi tends to just shun “normies”, not actively conspire to sabotage them

He actually does crave understanding and to have people in his life, he just doesn’t know how to go about it

Boy’s got Mega Social Anxiety is what I’m saying (funny how both the Lonely and the Eye can be real bad for that, huh)

But the Vast? Nihilism? Takes all the pressure off

If everyone is a small, insignificant speck in the face of an uncaring, unfathomably large cosmos, who cares what you do? Who cares what people think of you?

Yeah, you’d be kinda weird too if you stared into the infinite abyss of the ocean and realized it was just the maw of a gargantuan sea monster too, Karen, lay off

Plus aesthetically, the great Awful Deep most people fear in the ocean is a comfort to Levi

And again, THE VAST IS MORE THAN JUST THE SKY

I WENT ON A BOAT ONCE

LIKE REAL FAR OUT, SO I COULDN’T SEE LAND FOR DAYS

IT WAS JUST ENDLESS B L U E

AND I WAS ON A CRUISE IN THE CARIBBEAN

I SAW A FRACTION OF THE OCEAN’S S U R F A C E AND IT WAS I M M E N S E

Did you know we’ve only explored like 5% or whatever of our oceans? Think about that! Every Single Thing we know about what’s in there is just the tip of the iceberg!!! GOD KNOWS WHAT’S DOWN THERE!!! PROBABLY FUCKED UP FISH IS WHAT

*ahem* anyway, fishee

Satan

Another tricky boi

I marked him down as fearing the Desolation, as a reflection of what he fears most in himself

I probably could have also gone with Slaughter, but I’d say that’s more baby/early-Satan

Desolation is also about destruction of potential, and Satan has very carefully built himself into a non-rage-monster person

So tearing that all away from him is :)))

But what would Satan give himself over to?

Ceaseless Watcher, I want that twink OBLITERATED—

Satan clings to knowledge and erudition to distance himself from the rage he was born as

“Watch and learn” is literally how he became a person

I find it deeply funny that it could also easily be how he becomes a monster once again

Also if you think the avatar of Wrath wouldn’t have a use for supernatural blackmail you’re just straight up incorrect

Couple that with Satan’s various connections and he’d be a Force to Reckon With

Asmodeus

I put him as a victim of the Corruption bc I found it extremely fitting considering the duality of his romanticized image vs the “dirty” fluid-filled nature of Lust.

Lust can be really nasty, but as licentious as Asmo’s supposed to be, he’s surprisingly coy

(now part of that comes from the fact that Obey Me isn’t strictly 18+/full-on porn, but still)

There’s a lot of Interesting Ideas to unpack there with attitudes towards sex vs sensuality and idealisation vs reality

Now as for an avatar… I debated this for a very long time, tossing around Eye, Stranger, Spiral, even Web for like one second

But I think I’ve got it

Slaughter!

Specifically the musical/random outbursts of violence side (not so much the war side)

Why? Well for one, Biblical Asmodeus is said to “"transport men into fits of madness and desire [...] with the result that they commit sin, and fall into murderous deeds (Testament of Solomon, verse 23).”

But also, Obey Me Asmo’s affair with that portrait chick from the earlier lessons started a whole ass war

Like it or not, the boy is very good at instilling manic violence in people

They don’t call it bloodlust for nothing

Beelzebub

I paired Beel with an End avatar MC bc the boy fears losing his loved ones like he lost Lilith

You could argue that Desolation would fit there too but I liked how it fit Satan better

Now as for a Vibe…

I’m tied between Flesh and Corruption tbh

Though corruption is mostly bc buge :)

So I’ll talk about the Flesh

So uh, mass consumerism, meat is meat, cannibalism… see where I’m going?

Ignoring the Hans because that was super racist, the two Flesh avatars I remember best are Jared Hopworth and The Guy Who Stuck His Arm in a Spooky Meat Grinder To Feed His Buds

I think of Jared in relation to Beel not because of the gym thing, but because his very chill/apathetic attitude towards his patron is similar to how I’d picture Beel’s approach to all this

Like “well, guess I’m here now”

I love Beel as much as everyone else, but he’s not exactly apologetic about his… habits

Not to the degree that he’d actually try and change them anyway

So if he got started on the path to Flesh avatarhood, he’d be pretty fucked

Belphegor

I put Web for him as a fear almost entirely because of the concept of Uno Reverse Card, ngl

It does technically tie into his whole thing about being trapped in the attic, since he’d denied all agency and freedom in there, but… Uno Reverse

Dark!Belphie is an interesting concept, and MAG86 “Tucked In” is iconic, but tbh I don’t really… Get the Dark

Don’t get me wrong, put me in a dark place and I will be scared, I don’t like not seeing things, but I have a hard time wrapping my head around why one would become an avatar of the Dark

It’s not a very “primary” fear imo? Like, I’m scared of the dark bc I can’t see what’s there, ie. a threat could be there and I wouldn’t know, but intellectually I know it’s just the absence of light. That’s not really spooky on its own.

I guess what I’m saying is I can attribute spookier things related to the Dark better to other Entities, so I’m not sure what its draw is specifically

According to the Entity Sexiness Survey I did a while back, there’s apparently some Catholic stuff going on with the Dark so maybe that’s why i don’t get it lmao

Anyway I’d put Belphie down for Spiral

“What lies behind a smile” indeed cowboy

Apparently it’s getting choked

Is it because MC’s entire relationship with him is originally founded on a lie?

Is it because the Spiral deals with distortions in your perception, gaslighting gatekeeping girlbossing, as well as foggy liminal mental spaces like between sleep and consciousness, death and life?

Is it because I think Belphie would absolutely delight in driving someone bananas by fucking with their dreams until it bleeds into their waking life?

Is it because being a person or consistent being at all is too much effort, consistent internal geography is hard, fuck it, just be an endless twisting series of hallways?

Yes :)

#obey me #tma #cursed tma x om crossover #obey me headcanons #tma the entities #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor

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class1akids · 3 years

Note

Idk if this is unpopular but I think quirk singularity is a dumb plot device. What is the need for it in the story?

I feel the opposite - I think Quirk Singularity is absolutely necessary at this point to make the OFA-AFO plot at least somewhat interesting.

1. Let’s recap what is quirk singularity?

Quirk singularity means that (1) with each generation powers become more complex and stronger (2) this means quirk will be more difficult to control, since the human body doesn't evolve quickly enough to keep up (3) there will come a point when Quirks will become too overpowered and complicated, and no one will be able to control them anymore.

Basically, quirk singularity puts a limit on the power a single person can hold and poses an interesting and complex ultimate threat at the level of society that relies on ever-increasing powers to solve its problems. How can you solve the problem with more power if more power is the problem itself?

2. How the limits quirk singularity presented manifest in the story and why they are important?

Powers having a drawback is essential for good the story-telling. There is nothing more boring than characters who are so powerful that they can always do whatever they want, there is no real danger, real stakes and at most they are inconvenienced from using their power. It’s difficult to put such characters in suspenseful or dramatic scenarios where the audience really feel that they may lose or fail.

So in the BNHA universe, generally, all people have a single quirk. All these quirks are limited in some way or have some built-in drawbacks:

- Top-level quirk with versatility, but still with soft upper limits (there is always a plus ultra at a price), the holder’s personality flaws lead to self-sabotage (e.g. Bakugou, Endeavor)

- Top level quirk with versatility and no hard upper limit, but the holder can’t fully wield it unless they overcome underlying trauma linked to the power itself (e.g. Todoroki)

- Top power-level quirk with a single ultimate weakness (Hawks, Tokoyami, Aizawa) or the use of which starts a cooldown period (Kaminari) or the power is limited for stockpile resource (Eri, Momo)

- Mid-level powers that can do one thing really well (Kirishima, Iida, Mina) or more support nature powers that are versatile but do not have a lot of raw output attached to fragile users (Froppy, Jirou)

- low-level powers.

But the Top Good (OFA) and Top Evil (AFO) are not limited to a single power - they can acquire multiple powers.

AFO’s power limitation is how much quirks his body can absorb. As evidenced by the existence of the nomu - multiple powers usually come at the price of losing one’s humanity. But luckily for AFO, he has Evil Scientist as sidekick, who can find a way around this problem by evil sciencing (modifying a body to create hosts for AFOs upgrades).

OFA is a power that started out weak and has been built through generations through self-sacrifice to reach the point where it could compete with AFO, but not quite eliminate it (All Might era).

Without quirk singularity, this battle of evil and good would continue forever without stakes until AFO and OFA-users are chucking planets at each other, but now OFA has reached it’s full potential and the tipping point where it cannot be transferred anymore, creating a now-or-never situation to defeat AFO.

This puts the protagonist under some pressure and creates some stakes. If he can’t win, everyone is doomed. (Unfortunately we already know that Deku will not fail because it’s stated in Chapter 1, so it’s not exactly the biggest suspense, but better than nothing)

3. How could quirk singularity apply better to OFA ?

So we saw with AFO, how quirk singularity is a real barrier to his continuous power-ups. Failed nomu, the damage to Tomura’s body, the mental problems caused by the quirk upgrades are all interesting limits.

In contrast, OFA’s limits I think were not very well handled. Especially, because of who Deku is as a protagonist.

His goal is to become like All Might - the hero who was the ultimate Deus ex Machina of the universe, so powerful that he inadvertedly created a terrrible system reliant on that incredible power of a single person. Deku is trying to follow in his footsteps.

So where lies Deku’s conflict or challenge or limitation?

He’s morally perfect - already surpassing All Might in character from the start (as evidenced by his positive influence on people All Might failed, including All Might himself). He has no conflict as regards his goal - he’s not a reluctant chosen one - his goal is aligned with the power and legacy he gets. His power is a stronger version of All Might’s. So logically, he should be able to do everything alone that All Might could.

So the limit doesn’t lie in Deku’s character, nor in the goal, nor in the power. So where is it?

Because of quirk singularity, OFA has become more difficult to handle than it was at All Might’s time, which in the beginning gives Deku all kinds of limitaitons and broken bones, that he could only solve by lowering his power-output. He had to nerf himself to be able to continue.

This is a good limitation, but unfortunately the story didn’t deliver so far on the consequences. While in the Muscular fight Deku permanently damages his arms, this damage didn’t really hold him back so far in a credible way. He wins against Overhaul with the biggest plot-device ever (Eri-backpack), and he manages to smash ShigarAFO endlessly without much visible harm.

Also, because of “plot”, OFA underwent an evolution where it opened up the actual quirks of the previous users to Deku. This was in my view a very bad development, that made Deku less interesting. Suddenly, he had all these extra powers for free (so far neither Black Whip, nor Float came with any drawback whatsoever) that means:

- he can do everything better than other characters, making their niche powers redundant and sucking the oxygen out of their arcs (how could a Sero, Froppy or Uraraka fight look cool now that Deku can do all that but better and on a grander scale)? He has the most power, the most speed, long range, short range, snare, flight - basically the best of everything.

- he has a convenient tool for everything that gets him out of every situation and makes it so that the consequences he suffered because of OFA-singularity to his body don’t apply anymore - he could use Black Whip as a brace and continue smashing with broken arms, and even when his body was broken, he could help Todoroki with his tongue (unlike before in the Forest, when Bakugou was kidnapped).

These upgrades don’t come from any personal development or growth, but all come from OFA’s evolution. Deku also doesn’t struggle much with the extra powers (masters Black Whip in a week and Float instantenously - with some pre-training).

Plus, in the latest chapters his quirklessness has been retconned into making him the perfect vessel, pretty much abandoning the physical consequences as a limit to OFA singularity. Whatever damage his body sustains is always repairable or can be overcome with new gizmos or using the extra quirks.

So did multi-quirk OFA ruin the OFA plot irrevocably?

I think it did a lot of damage to Deku as a character (no growth, no conflict, no clear story-reason why he should be his own hero relying on others rather than still wanting to be an upgraded All Might-god), and to the story overall, by trivializing and making useless other characters who we as audience were invested in. Seeing everyone becoming nothing but fodder sucks big time in my view.

But I think there could still be interesting things be done with OFA due to quirk singularity. As we’ve seen with Shigaraki and the nomu - multiple quirks come with a price to be paid not only physically, but also mentally.

So far Deku is not paying any price for it though. All the extra quirks have come without drawbacks. Danger Sense has the potential to start wearing Deku down mentally though - due to sensing the crisis situations but not being able to be everywhere at once and wearing himself out.

Another thing I’d like to see is the pain and self-sacrifice of all the previous users taking a toll, as well as finally having some of these randomly chosen people to be not perfect. I think having multiple personalities living in Deku’s head shouldn’t look like a peaceful royal tea party.

All these users gave up a lot to get Deku here, so I feel like there should be some pressure on him from inside to get the job done or at least some disagreement about Deku’s plan to make nice with Tomura instead of eliminating AFO (remember, it’s the last chance!). So I think maybe whatever chat he had with 2nd and 3rd provided some conflict between the wills of the previous users, resulting in conflicting wishes for Deku.

All these could lead towards a mental exhaustion or breakdown that could be an interesting moment for Deku as a protagonist and really give him the clarity that repeating history is useless, a solo saviour is not the right answer, but changing the system and empowering everyone else is.

Since the power-scaling of OFA is already off the charts, I think it would be good to make it hurt more. It should feel like a terrible mental and physical burden (something like Frodo with the One Ring) to mirror Tomura being suffocated by AFO, so when the two powers destroy each other (which I really hope is the endgame), it will feel cathartic - that giving up and destroying that great power liberates Deku and saves his life so he can continue as a great hero (but scaled back towards the other in-universe top powers) who kept his humanity and his chance of a normal life full of meaningful bonds.

I’m also wondering how the story will close the society-level quirk singularity plot. One option is that all quirks are somehow tied to AFO (it being the original source) so AFO’s destruction leads to the elimination or gradual decline of all quirks - which would be cohrerent with Deku being the “greatest” - he would hold the peak power at peak quirk level.

Or it may be left unresolved, leaving the door open for a sequel where the ultimate “evil” is quirk singularity doomsday itself.

#bnha meta #bnha endgame speculation #ofa #midoirya izuku #quirk singularity #afo #ofa plot

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free-pool-trash · 4 years

Text

folklore - isaac lahey {5/?}

hey! this part is honestly mostly angst? like i think the start of it is ok but the rest is angsty as hell, because pre-bite isaac <333

mostly isaac/reader in this chapter and a little Derek towards the end, also peter but mans can’t talk yet so idk if he counts?

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!! reblogs and comments are so appreciated <3

word count: 4k

warnings: blood, sad thoughts, reader being sad, isaac being sad, mentions of abuse, swearing

FOLKLORE MASTERLIST

Taglist: @makeusfreefromthisfandom, @cece-lives-here, @chocolate-raspberries, @belsandthings, @dancing-tacos-23, @truly-dionysus, @britty443, @tanyaherondale, @furiouspockettoad, @yunsh-17, @random-thoughts-003, @gloomybrieyxb, @futuristicslimemongerbanana, @linkpk88, @big-galaxy-chaos, @im-a-stranger-thing, @riaisnotcool let me know if you’d like to be added <3

The lights in his room were dim as they always were when you walked in. It’d been nearly two weeks since you’d last visited Peter, between becoming a vampire and trying not to get in a fist fight with Derek every five minutes you hadn’t had the time or energy to visit your favourite Hale.

When your eyes fell on him a strange feeling settled over your chest, you couldn’t quite put your finger on the sensation but if you had to describe it in one word; unsettling. It didn’t deter you from sitting in front of the man the feeling was coming from, though. If you were trapped in your own body you’d probably feel a little unsettled too.

Not wanting to waste anymore time you sat down in your usual seat across from Peter, shaking the feeling off as best you could before giving him a pleased smile, “Long time no see. I’ve got so much to tell you…” You trailed off, shaking your head when you caught yourself waiting for him to reply.

“First of all I got attacked by a werewolf which sucked and now I’m a vampire which, coincidentally, also requires a lot of sucking.” Silence.

“And I made some new friends, which is cool- Isaac got a little jealous but it’s fine, I handled it. I feel bad keeping him in the dark about all of this but I just want to keep him safe y’know?” Of course you received no answer, opting to continue filling Peter in despite his usual lack of response.

“Your nephew has been driving me crazy, by the way.” You informed him, letting out a grunt at the thought of how annoying Derek had been over the last few days, “He’s got this tough guy thing going on, I think it’s just to psych Scott out honestly, which is fine! But it’s the fact that he’s keeping it up with me as if I haven’t known him for seventeen years!”

If Peter had control over his body you knew he would’ve laughed at your annoyance towards his nephew, he always had. Whenever Derek teased you growing up, it was always Peter that you’d go running to.

“Uncle Peter!” The man sighed at the sound of your shrill voice, closing the book he’d been reading out on the porch as you ran up to him with an angry pout on your face.

“What’s up, kiddo?” He asked, opening his arms as you threw yourself into them. You let out a puff of air, settling yourself on Peter’s knee as he sat on the porch steps. “Derek said that because I’m only six I can’t play basketball with him and his friends!” You whined.

Peter only scoffed, his arms pulling you close as he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. They’re idiots, each and every one of them.”

There was always something about uncle Peter, he had a certain tone of voice that made anything he spoke sound like gospel. If Peter said it, you believed it. That was just how it was, thinking about it now you figured that your attachment and high level of trust in Peter probably had something to do with the fact that he’d practically initiated you into his pack when you were so young. Truth be told, he was the hardest loss of the Hale’s for you to come to terms with because even though he hadn’t died he’d still been lost.

You twiddled with your fingers as your thoughts began to wander, getting the hang of heightened emotions wasn’t so easy now that you were sat in front of Peter, or what was left of him. You hadn’t noticed the tears that had built up in your eyes until they began to sneak down your cheeks, slipping down your chin and coating your neck with their salty stream.

All you could do was imagine that he was more than an empty shell, that he was himself and listening intently, that he was just waiting for you to finish before he offered his sage advice.

“I really wish you could tell me how to handle all of this.” You sniffled out, pressure in your chest growing as, for once, it was the weight of your own emotions weighing it down.

Since being turned you hadn’t gotten a chance to stop and breathe or really even think about what was happening to you, living in a constant state of confusion, fear and loss.

“I just feel… so lonely that I can hardly breathe sometimes-“ Your breath hitching stopped your confession in its tracks while your tears continued to fall freely down your face, there was no point in trying to wipe them away- you’d broken the dam.

Your watering eyes focused on the ceiling as you poured your heart out to the man who was essentially your second father, despite the fact he was more or less completely unresponsive you still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his empty gaze.

“Nobody knows what I am, really. And it’s like I’m all on my own and nobody knows how to help me or- or anything!” Eventually you met his eyes and it was then that your feeling of sorrow grew considerably bigger, the pang in your heart sinking all the way down to the pit of your stomach as a new layer of tears replaced the ones that had just fallen down your cheeks.

“I’ve upset you.” You stated, heart racing at the fact you’d managed to upset Peter Hale himself.

Quickly you wiped your tears away, your face was still wet as you took a deep breath, shaking away the feeling that was eating you up. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying I just- I really need someone to talk to, you know? Usually I’d go and rant to Isaac but I can’t tell him anything and it’s killing me but everyone told me not to and I also told myself not to… it’s a mess. I’m just so lost.”

Peter, as usual remained quiet, but there was something in his eyes- it was quick and barely there but you’d seen it. They’d flashed red.

After you composed yourself, you left Peter’s room and made your way to school, you’d woken up early to visit Peter.

As soon as you entered the building your feet moved quickly towards your locker, you sorted your books out as fast as you could before making your way to Isaac’s locker. Your meeting with Peter had shaken you up and honestly, in the moment, you just needed your best friend.

As usual when you arrived by Isaac’s side you alerted him by gently tugging on his sleeve, you didn’t know why but he was extremely nervous, to the point where you felt your own stomach beginning to turn. Even though you’d sought him out for your own comfort you discarded that plan as soon as you met his eyes, he needed to be comforted more than you did right now.

“What’s wrong?” You immediately blurted out, grabbing his free hand that hung by his side unlike the other that held his locker door open, knuckles turning white from how tightly he clung to the metal door.

Isaac only shook his head, he gave you the smile that he always gave you, the one that screamed “please don’t worry about me” but you knew better than to believe that smile because as gorgeous as it is, it’s fake.

“I’m okay, don’t worry.” He squeezed your hand in an effort to deter you, but yet again, you knew better.

Letting your eyes roll, you furrowed your brows, “Seriously, tell me what’s bothering you.” You demand not missing the defeated look that fell on his face when he hung his head, brown curls falling over his eyes, “Nothing, (Y/n). Just the parent teacher conferences are happening tonight…” He trailed off as he shuffled his feet.

The realization of why he was so nervous about it hit you like a ton of bricks and you didn’t care who was watching when you threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into you with a sigh. “How is it gonna go?” You asked, already knowing the answer would be: not well.

Isaac’s arms held you against him tightly, stabilizing you as you had to stand on your tiptoes to get a good grip around his shoulders, ever since he’d had his growth spurt when you were both thirteen if you wanted to hug him properly you’d always need to get on your tiptoes. He wouldn’t lie though, he thought it was the cutest thing.

“I’ve got a C minus in Chem.” He muttered against your neck, tightening his grip on you for dear life, you both knew Mr Lahey wouldn’t be pleased.

With a little grin, in an attempt to lighten the mood you pulled your head back to look your best friend in the eyes, “Should we dip? Run away? Move to France?” The question was made with humor but you were really considering the thought of just dragging him out of the school’s double doors and flying away to somewhere sunny where the pair of you wouldn’t have to deal with any of the shit you have to deal with in Beacon Hills.

Isaac gave you a sad smile, connecting his lips to your forehead quickly with rosy cheeks before disconnecting from you, “I think that would probably make things worse.”

Before you could respond Isaac shut his locker and spoke again, “Anyway, what had you so upset a few minutes ago?”

Deciding that today wasn’t the best day to confide in him you simply offered him a sad smile and weak explanation.

“Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Wanted a hug.” Isaac let out an airy laugh, tilting his head to the side with a smile.

He beckoned you in for a side hug, “Get in here.” Immediately you obliged, attaching yourself to the boy’s side as the pair of you walked towards your first class of the day.

All you hoped was that his anxiety didn’t get the better of him today or later on when his father confronted him, so, as any good friend with supernatural abilities would, before you parted ways you made sure to transfer some much needed relaxation onto the boy who was positively teeming with fear. For now, it was all you could do for him without exposing yourself, you prayed it was enough.

As the day drew on your mind drifted from your conversation with Peter to your conversation with Isaac constantly. Understandably. You needed to get on top of your heightened emotions and you needed to do it fast, because to put it simply; you were drowning.

But like you mentioned to Peter, nobody knew anything about anything, not even Deaton could tell you how to gain control or even tell you the full extent of your capabilities. The loneliness was what hit the most. It was that empty, distant, ever-sinking feeling that was slowly but surely swallowing you whole. Scott had Derek, not to mention Stiles, to help him figure out everything he needed to know, an experienced wolf and a loyal best friend to walk him through everything, to support him, to keep him grounded, to tell him the dos and don’ts of being a wolf.

What did you have? An unwavering loyalty to a member of a pack who was barely even alive? Half baked theories from books of lore that your parents managed to dig up from some dusty corner of the attic? Derek who spent all of his time focused on Scott despite a member of his own pack being in obvious distress? A best friend you can’t confide in because he’s just as broken as you are? It didn’t seem fair.

The bite turned you to a vampire instead of a wolf, every night you wondered why you’d taken this form when seemingly nobody else had ever been turned by wolf bite, the conclusion you’d come to was that it was just some sick karmic joke. A test of endurance that you weren’t sure if you were going to pass. The universe spotted you- hand picked you as it’s favourite love-sick, hopeless romantic with a heart too big for her body and with a soul that felt emotions as vast and deep as the ocean. It chose you, but the gag was you never wanted it to be you. For once, you wished someone else had won the prize that felt more like a curse.

It was all too much. You felt too deeply. Every emotion consumed you, every sound vibrated like bass from a speaker, every touch sparked like static and every beating heart made you hungry. But every time you even so much as pondered simply giving in to the feelings, of letting go of that rope that seemed to be holding your empathy close and letting it fall away, every time you entertained those thoughts that voice, from the first night, would ring through your skull and echo until you agreed to the words being spoken by the oh so familiar voice. Don’t let it kill you.

Scott had been nowhere to be seen all day, nor had Allison, it was only when you’d spotted Stiles sitting alone at lunch that you’d realized that the wolf and his girlfriend probably ditched.

The final bell eventually signaled the end of the school day, solemnly you walked alongside Isaac towards the doors of the school, stomach twisting with anxiety knowing that the next time you’d be seeing him he’d more than likely be barring a new bruise or emotional scar.

“Can I drive you home?” You asked, hoping he’d say yes but understanding when he shook his head no, “I cycled here, I’ll take my bike. Thank you though.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, looking at him with worry clear on your face, it was all you could focus on and you were half sure he could feel it too, your efforts of masking it failing.

Isaac could feel the worry seeping off you, but even before you’d turned he always had a knack from knowing when something was on your mind. He knew all your tells, when you were worrying about something you’d bite your lip and furrow your eyebrows, when you were upset you’d wring your hands together or play with your fingers, he knew how you were feeling whenever you were feeling it purely because of the mannerisms you used when you were around him. It’s how he knew that you’ve been hiding something from him since you’d been attacked, the boy didn’t know what it was but he saw it weighing you down, he was determined to get to the bottom of it so he could be there for you. He let out a heavy sigh when he realized in the moment that the roles were reversed and with the way you gazed at him he knew you wanted to be there for him, like you always were.

“I’m gonna be okay, nothing that hasn’t happened before.” He finally spoke in an attempt to reassure you that there was nothing to worry about but his statement only served to upset you more and he silently cursed himself as he watched the corners of your lips sink downward. “It shouldn’t happen ever.” You told him softly, trying your very best to keep your composure when you heard your voice crack.

Glancing around quickly, Isaac grabbed your wrist and tugged you towards your car, knowing how much you hated getting upset in front of people he took the initiative to carry on the conversation in the confines of your car away from the rest of the prying students.

Once you were both situated in the front seats, Isaac spoke up, “I know that you hate seeing me hurt, I know it shouldn’t be like this but it is. I’ll survive, you need to stop worrying about me so much, (N/n).”

“You don’t deserve this.” You muttered, sorrow dripping from each word.

“(Y/n)-“

“No Isaac! You don’t deserve to be treated like this! Every time I see you hurt it makes me so fucking angry because when you tell me what happened you say it as though you had it coming! But you never do, you never have it coming!” The words left your mouth in a high pitched string of cries as Isaac simply lowered his gaze to his lap, hating how your voice shook in agony for him.

With every word you spoke you became more and more worked up, tears trickling down your face freely now that all the cars in the parking lot were more or less gone. “And every single time I wish I could do more for you- I wish that I could make you see what I see.” Your confession was fragile, the words barely audible as they passed your lips.

Isaac lifted his head, his own eyes welling up, “You have no idea how much you do for me so don’t think like that.” He demanded, his tone far more assertive than you’d ever known it to be.

His hand met your face, gently but quickly, his palm cupping your cheek while his thumb brushed away your tears. For a second, you closed your eyes, imagining the feeling of his hand cupping your cheek happening under better circumstances before reconnecting your eyes with his.

“I’m gonna go home.” He told you, sad smile on his lips as you shook your head, gripping the wrist of the hand he still had placed on your cheek desperately. “Stay.”

“I’ll come over to yours tonight ok? But you have to let me leave.” When you didn’t move, he sighed and pulled his hand away from you himself, trying not to wince at the hurt look on your face.

Your best friend opened the car door and stepped out, leaning in with an arm resting against the top of the door with a look on his face that you couldn’t pinpoint, that feeling had returned to your chest though, the light and flowy one. “Love you, kid.” His lips formed a cheeky grin when the nickname caused you to smile, he hadn’t rubbed the fact he was two months older than you in your face recently, you should’ve seen it coming. Finally allowing yourself to give him a weak smile you gave him an equally as weak, but still meaningful, “Love you too, idiot.” Before he shut the car door and made his way towards his bike.

To put the cherry on top of an already stressful day when you got home Derek was waiting at your dining table expectantly. The first words leaving his mouth being, “Where’s Scott?”

You rolled your eyes at him, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a blood bag out of your fridge, Stiles had been sweet enough to fill some bags for you since you were both still trying to work out the whole euphoric feeding situation, feeding on Stiles on a school night usually meant Stiles being completely away with the fairies the next morning and obviously you needed to feed during the week. Blood wasn’t as tasty cold but as weird as it was to admit, it still slapped.

Taking a sip from the small straw sticking out of the bag you raised an eyebrow at the wolf in front of you, “I dunno, Derek. Where’s my hello?”

“This is serious.” He growled, “So am I.” You rebutted, taking another sip as the man grew more irritable.

He didn’t answer, only growled at you, he was probably hoping you’d buy into his ridiculous power play. You didn’t, obviously.

Nonchalantly, you lifted yourself up onto the counter of the kitchen island, facing Derek and sipping your blood happily.

“Growl at me all you want, D. Scott might buy into your big bad wolf act but I remember when you used to watch Barbie movies with me every single day.” You told him matter of factly, “Things are different now. Scott needs my help.” At his statement your carefree demeanor faltered. You needed his help, but not once since you’d been bitten had the man you considered a brother offered you even a morsel of support but yet here he was in your home, asking for a beta he barely knows.

“If Scott was around today would you have come to see me?” You asked him, keeping your voice as steady as you could.

Derek shook his head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “No, because I’m looking for Scott.”

Slowly you nodded your head, allowing his words to sink in. Today had been emotionally draining, sure, but you couldn’t find the strength within yourself to leave this alone.

“So where exactly am I on your supernatural list of priorities? Or am I even on it at all?” The question was harsher than you intended but Derek had a fairly hard head, if you wanted to get a point across you sometimes had to be a little less than gentle with the delivery.

The wolf groaned, head falling back in exhaustion, “Can we not do this right now?”

Slapping the now empty blood bag down beside you and crossing your arms, you glared, “Answer my question.”

He gave you a hard look, standing up from his seat in what you assumed was an attempt to intimidate you, “I’ll admit you’re not my top priority right now, alright? Scott needs me, you’ll be fine.” A humorless laugh left your lips as you jumped down from the counter, squaring up to the taller man before you with absolutely no fear.

“Are you sure about that, D? Cuz last time I checked, Scott has Allison and Stiles and Deaton and you telling him exactly what to do and when to do it. I have no one.” Derek bit his tongue, his jaw clenched and lips pursed before he gave you a response, “He needs all the help he can get. Your abilities aren’t as difficult to get the hang of as his are.”

“Oh yeah?” It was a challenge, not only had he managed to piss you off and upset you at the same time, he’d also managed to erase the pain of your own transition in favour of defending Scott.

Derek sighed, the voice in his head telling him to step down when he noticed your fists clenched tightly into balls against your side, “Look (Y/n)-“ He started before a gasp ripped from his throat when you arm gripped his.

The anger, the fear, the pain, the loneliness, the confusion, the weight that came from feeling everything all at once, you made him feel it all, not releasing your tight grip on his bicep until he’d looked down at you with tears glazing his eyes.

Roughly, you ripped you hand from his arm, purple eyes glowing as you stood chest to chest with him, “Maybe if you bothered to check up on me you’d know that my shift wasn’t easy, I don’t have the hang of my abilities and every single morning I wake up and think about how much easier my life would be if I just let them destroy me.” You were seething, Derek’s face was painted in shock as he stood at a loss for words.

“But hey! By all means go help Scott. What’s pack loyalty anyway?” Your words were seeped in venom and as soon as they left your mouth you took advantage of your enhanced speed, running from the room only leaving a gust of wind and an emotionally overwhelmed Derek in your wake.

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #teen wolf x reader #derek hale x reader #peter hale x reader #folklore i.l

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staranon95 · 3 years

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dincobb blade runner au

okay i got some nice likes on my post from last night, and i finally have some time to draw out my thoughts.

this is going to be heavily inspired by Blade Runner 2049 so yes i will be taking multiple elements from that movie, its story, its themes and characters but with my own special twist.

Din

he is a nexus-9 replicant (styled after Officer K) and works for the LAPD as a blade runner, tasked with hunting down older replicant models (nexus-8 units)

he reports to Lieutenant Bo-Katan; their relationship is a very tense one to say the least. the big part of nexux-9 models is that obedience is hardwired into their genetic makeup, so Din is Bo-Katan's obedient little blade runner, dispatched to the harder jobs that humans can't do because replicants don't matter right?

as part of the replicant build, replicants are given false memories upon their conception since they're formed as fully adult, fully human, you need to have something rattling around in there to kickstart their brain

Din has a named. Din Djarin, but this sets himself apart from other replicants the LAPD has employed in the past. because none of them previously asserted that they had a name. but it's almost automatic for when people introduce themselves to him that he responds with Officer Djarin. it's like a reflex.

as part of Din's memories, he knows they're false. but some of them are so starkly vivid like the image of a child calling him 'papa' reaching up with their arms at him, smiling wide which is weird isn't it? replicants can't reproduce but why does Din always feel struck with the desire that he lost something? that he had to say goodbye to a child? he never mentions this to anyone, not even Bo-Katan, because they don't matter right? they're false. right?

one of the big memories Din has is of this Child. he's slipping a necklace around their neck and saying 'i'll come find you' and he doesn't know why but he's so driven by the urge to find this Child. but he doesn't know where to begin and he can't go against Bo-Katan. he can't disobey

Cobb

Cobb is a nexus-8 model, but he's an aberrant variant of the line in that he's an outlier from the model. he's not as big, not as strong, but still as deadly, and when originally created, he was used for infiltration and surveillance against rebels, uprisings and so on. it's easy for him to blend into the situation at hand. he's highly charismatic which makes him so dangerous. eventually he broke free of those who controlled him and became a rebel figure among the underground replicant freedom movement

as an aberrant nexus-8, Cobb is wanted by a lot of people, the most important person being Moff Gideon, CEO of Gideon Corporation. the GC revived the replicant production after the nexus-8 models rebelled in a bloody war that led to many governments declaring replicants illegal. Gideon wants Cobb because he shouldn't technically exist. it's like he's a mutation, so Gideon pulls his strings with the LAPD to have their blade runner Din sent to find Cobb

now Cobb established himself as a rebellious figure back in the day during the Blackout (canon for the time when all digital devices just stopped working. good times!). one time, however, he did get caught by a human militia. the militia wanted money from his capture, so while they were negotiating with the authorities, they had him stashed away in one of the many bleak recycling operations, chained down and forced to work while his fate was decided.

(2049 is a bleak world and includes child labour. bad times all around)

so while Cobb is chained in place, he comes to know this Child, this special Child with a unique necklace, and he talks to the child (he always talks. he's Cobb) and they build a relationship and Cobb realizes how special this Child is

eventually Cobb is broken out of his interim prison, but before he goes, he makes sure the Child is taken with him, and he makes sure the necklace is left behind so that people assume the Child died here

The Child (it's grogu lol)

The Child is seemingly human, but actually born of a replicant. they are an impossibility and the symbol of a replicant revolution. they can control themselves. they can be free from the human worlds because they were built to survive.

rumors of a replicant child break out and of course Gideon also wants this child for his own purposes. to study. to understand.

later on in the story, we learn that the Child's father (idk who this is yet) had their memories taken and implanted in a nexus-9 model, and that this nexus-9 would become the Child's sworn guardian, but he needs to recognize that drive on his own. he needs to break from the rules that keep him rooted to the humans he works for. that's a journey he needs to take

The Story

Din learns of the Child's potential existence when he happens upon a crime scene. a human possibly killed by a replicant. he's sent to investigate and finds a shallow grave on the property. the bones belonged to a replicant, but it's clear they had been pregnant based on old marks on the bones.

He learns form the crime scene that this human was in contact with known rebel Cobb Vanth based on a photo he finds stashed away along with the body, so the LAPD figure Cobb returned to tie up some loose ends, that he's essentially reemerged and Din is being tasked to bring him in

Din is contacted by Gideon to speak about Cobb's whereabouts, what Gideon knows about Cobb's history, and that Gideon knows about the rumour. that a replicant child lives and that Din will be well compensated if he manages to bring the Child to Gideon

Din follows Cobb's past, learns of who he is, how he broke free of his intended purpose, and Din wonders quietly to himself what that's like? what is it like to be free of human control? to be his own person?

he comes to the recycling plant where Cobb was once held and does some digging on the premises, coming to know the story of how Cobb escaped. he finds the necklace from his memories and realizes his memories can't be fake. otherwise why would this be here? so he digs through the plant's records of all the children who've worked here and finds his name in the ledger. Djarin.

following a series of cryptic clues, Din realizes that Cobb is hiding in the wasteland of Las Vegas, a place that's inhabitable by human standard, but not to replicants. so he goes there. Cobb and Din meet for the first time and duke it out until Din says he knows about the Child and that stops Cobb from nearly killing him.

they talk. Cobb feels sympathetic for Din because he knows how hard nexus-9s have it. to be obedient on that level? how hard must it be for him to be here? but then he realizes that someone must've planted those false memories in Din for a reason. this is where Cobb and Din really connect to each other. how much Cobb wants to show Din he's worthy of a life outside of his purpose. and how much Din realizes he wants to follow Cobb wherever he goes.

surprise attack! Gideon's forces locate the both of them. Din is incapacitated and Cobb is captured. Din is left for dead.

Din is later found by Boba and Fennec, replicant leaders of the underground movement. they patch him up and ask him where his loyalties lie i imagine at this point Cobb has told them of Din's emergence and that he has implanted memories, that he's meant to be the Child's guardian. and Din has to make a choice here. he has to choose to be his own person and fully go rogue. so he swears that he'll rescue Cobb since Cobb actually knows where the Child is hidden

Din goes after Cobb and rescues him from Gideon's clutches. they run and Din realizes how much he actually cares for Cobb. and he doesn't know if he's built to feel love, but he imagines this is what it must feel like. that rush of relief when he sees Cobb is okay, touching him and pulling him along.

Cobb takes Din to the location where the Child is, and Din is struck with all these memories. holding the Child when they were just born. seeing the Child take their first steps, their first words. calling him 'papa'. having to say goodbye to the Child. leaving them forever. and he knows they're not technically his. but they real and they feel like they're his.

so that's how Din and Cobb become parents to their replicant son

#dincobb #cobb vanth #din djarin #mandalorian #star song #blade runner au #i could go on about this #but i think i've said enough lol

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notebook-13 · 4 years

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…Look, I know nobody really cares about Overhaul’s characterization, but I spent enough time puzzling over wtf is his deal while I was watching the anime that I may as well make a post about it. Especially considering how he’s come up in recent chapters in relation to Twice and Hawks, one thing that strikes me about Overhaul is that he wants to be normal, and to accomplish that, he tries to change the world instead of himself.

On the surface, Overhaul’s goal was to establish himself and the Hassaikai as the rulers of the underworld using the anti-quirk serum, thereby repaying the “debt” he owed the Hassaikai boss for giving him a home, but I think there’s more going on.

Overhaul’s goal was to eradicate the belief that human lives have inherent value. He planned to do this by destroying quirks, since he perceived them as the basis of people’s belief that they matter.

Since Overhaul’s dialogue is confusing, here are two other translations of his lines:

“Because people are endowed with these things called ‘quirks,’ they can dream. Dream that maybe they can be someone that matters…they’re all sick in the head! So wipe that smile off your face! Thanks to the power of that girl you were trying to save, everything you’ve worked so hard to cultivate…has just been reduced to naught!” (Ch152, mangastream)

“The diseased…have been given quirks, and that lets them dream. Thinking you can actually become something is an illness of the mind. It’s funny! With the power of that girl you’ve come to save, everything you’ve worked to cultivate…has now gone to waste!” (Ep74, Funimation subs)

Basically, people want to matter, and they use their quirks (symbolizing individuality, and human deviation more broadly) as proof to say they do. So when Mirio loses his quirk, Overhaul’s reaction isn’t, you’re cured, you’ve been purified, you’re normal now. His reaction is, now you are worth nothing, you are a good-for-nothing deku, the illusion of value your life held is gone, everything you held dear was actually a lie.

I think that’s why Overhaul can use his quirk with impunity without seeing the hypocrisy. He essentially views people as infected mice infatuated with their own disease, but he knows better! He knows everyone is worthless! So he’s the only one who’s immune to this mental disease of ~being special~, he doesn’t get any delusions of grandeur, he’s the only one great enough to change the world—etc. When Shigaraki removes his quirk, Overhaul’s illusions are torn away the way he was expecting from Mirio.

But Mirio stands up to Overhaul and asserts that he still chooses to find value in his life without depending on whether he has a quirk. That’s the underlying reason why Overhaul is repulsed by heroism: it’s built on the ideal that people matter, their suffering is bad, they deserve to be saved, and so forth.

These are concepts Overhaul resoundingly rejects, for reasons never explicitly stated, but I think a fair interpretation is to say Overhaul’s noticed that he’s different from other people, and he’s afraid it means there’s something wrong with him. This fear is on par with an existential terror, so he can’t acknowledge it directly, but it drives him to go above and beyond to prove he is a normal person who does belong in the Hassaikai, specifically, and in society more generally.

First, for context:

^^ Regardless of how the yakuza are in reality, in Japanese pop culture their image is two-faced. They can be chivalrous gangsters (honorable criminals who offer shelter to outcasts and uphold the vestiges of samurai culture) or they can be villains (relentless hypocrites who prey on outcasts and commit staggering violence). Even down to the clothes they wear, the boss and Overhaul embody these two yakuza archetypes, and accordingly, they can’t coexist.

At the core of their power struggle is what it means to be a yakuza, and whether Overhaul belongs as one.

This reaches its climax when Overhaul tells the boss about torturing Eri, and the boss tells him it’s time for him to leave the Hassaikai. Overhaul puts the boss in a coma because he can’t bear to be rejected and branded a deviant for his cruelty (“straying from humanity,” “soulless heresy,” “how little do you think of people?”). The boss pretty much outright tells him there’s something wrong with him.

Overhaul never talks about why he thinks so lowly of people. It could be any tragic event in his life, whatever went down before he met the boss, sure, or even just the simple fact that his quirk enables him to disassemble and reassemble people like objects, but I think the answers are in the material Horikoshi emphasizes: in his relationship with the boss, whom Overhaul fixated on as a kid.

The feature that strikes me most in Overhaul’s relationship with the boss is the (lack of) acceptance between them. Overhaul seeks the unconditional acceptance the boss offered him as a child so intensely that I can’t help but think there’s a deeper motive: validation. The “debt” Overhaul feels is an imprecise label for his discomfort; he feels pressured to earn his place in the yakuza because, on some level, he recognizes that he doesn’t belong here among chivalrous gangsters. He consequently overcompensates, though going to such extremes just underscores he is different, but he wants to win the boss’s validation that badly because, without it, Overhaul feels like a freak. He’s afraid that there’s something wrong with him. This emerges most pointedly in his “germophobia.”

Given that he 1) literally breaks into hives and flies into murderous rage when he’s touched, 2) considers heroism and quirks to be a disease, and 3) breaks into hives multiple times purely from the force of his emotions—I think his phobia shouldn’t be taken at face value.

In some way, Overhaul is “allergic” to society. He doesn’t belong in this world, among these cultural values, which is why he seeks to change society.

“return humanity to normal”

^^ Overhaul wants to change the world to match his version of normal, and, remarkably, the fact that he believes it’s more feasible to change the world than to change himself says leagues about how immutable he believes his differentness is. By destroying quirks, Overhaul wants to make everyone the same: worthless. He resents that other people even want to be different because feeling like there’s something wrong with him is his greatest fear.

Shigaraki is Overhaul’s main foil, but…there’s a reason why Twice introduces him.

Twice (narrating): There’s no place for insane guys like me in society. As for the people who heroes like to save…yeah, they’re always the good, virtuous ones. Anyway, I finally accepted me for me and decided to make myself useful to the League of Villains because I wanna be okay with being me. What I’m searching for now is other people just as crazy as I am. The aimless wackos looking for a place to belong… [Overhaul debuts, complaining that he’s surrounded by sickness] Twice: (staring at Overhaul) But now those nutjobs are starting to carve out a place for themselves in this world. Twice: “Okay… To ask…or not to ask?!” Twice: Whether it’s us or the heroes, everyone’s starting to take on a different look nowadays. Knowing who you are is what really matters. Who you wanna become…what you wanna do… It’s real, real important.

Ch115, viz.

Twice’s narration frames Overhaul as someone who’s just as freakish as he is, and it foreshadows “a place to belong” as a key theme of Overhaul’s arc—a theme that Overhaul’s first flashback (to when he met the boss) cements. Overhaul wants somewhere to be accepted and belong precisely because he’s a “crazy wacko” with no place in society. Usurping the boss is Overhaul’s attempt to carve out a place for himself in the world, to fashion the Hassaikai (and society at large) in his image.

Twice’s narration also highlights how Overhaul doesn’t know who he is or what he wants, and consequently, he turns out to be a humungous hypocrite who can’t uphold even a single of the principles he professes. He double-crosses the boss, he isn’t sure if he wants to commodify quirks or eliminate them, and he can’t accept that he, like everyone, is worthless. He’s so afraid that there’s something wrong with him that he instead insists that everyone else is “sick,” everyone else is wrong, not him, he’s the only normal person. Unlike the LoV, who are more or less okay with being outcasts, Overhaul sets out to correct this difference because he can’t bear it.

…And Twice’s foiling underscores Overhaul’s lack of emotional attachments. It’s ludicrous to think Twice would ever lock Shigaraki away and then release him after Twice’s clones have toppled society. Overhaul’s interest in the boss is as a source of validation to help him repress his fear that he’s abnormal, not in the boss as a human person with feelings.

While fighting Deku and Eri, Overhaul recalls putting the boss in a coma. He follows up his flashback with these lines:

Overhaul: “None of you are looking at the big picture here!! What I’m annihilating is the world itself!! Its very structure!! So a pathetic little would-be hero driven by his emotions…reaching out for whatever petty sense of justice he stumbles across [meaning the status quo]…can’t stop me!!”

Ch158, viz.

The “none of you” is very telling—Overhaul is referring to the boss as well as Deku. He resents the boss, and his resentment of heroes is partly a sublimation of that—both Deku and the boss are driven by compassion Overhaul lacks, which disturbs him, so he needs to lash out and tell himself that his motivator, "logic,” is normal.

But regardless of the underlying reason, his most important motivators are that he doesn’t value human lives, and that he feels alienation because, on some level, he fears there’s something wrong with him for that. (<– the boss basically tells him so, by spurning him for being cruel.)

^^ When Deku delivers his final blow, knocking off Overhaul’s mask and sending him crashing to the ground, Horikoshi reveals Overhaul’s face for the first time. It’s a plain face; the mask hides no quirk-related anomaly; ironically, Overhaul’s "remedy” to his phobia (the plague mask, to stop himself from breathing the same air as others) makes him look like more of a weirdo than if he went without it.

His flashback here gives us a glimpse of what it is that inspires Overhaul. Overhaul remembers walking in the rain in the boss—a memory that prompts him to make a last stand…but also, a memory that causes him to break out into hives. Once you look, it’s clear he has no hives before he remembers it.

This is a positive memory, but it’s also an intensely negative one.

Because, deep down, Overhaul knows the boss will never thank him again. Out of buried resentment for the way the boss withheld his acceptance and made Overhaul feel like a freak, Overhaul made a point to trash everything the boss loved—he turned the Hassaikai into villainous bastards and carelessly offs the boss’s devotees, he followed through on his evil plan to use Eri as the base for his anti-quirk serum, and he, uh, put the boss into a coma. He even rejected the name “Chisaki,” the name of the strange man who tried to be a yakuza but whom the boss discarded anyways, and named himself after his quirk in order to “remake” himself into someone new. Clearly, like everyone else, he’s invested in his quirk as a crucial aspect of his identity –.–

But embracing his “true nature” isn’t enough when Overhaul knows that the boss will never accept him again, when he is still different, which is why Overhaul wants the world to change to match his views on humanity, so that he’s normal.

Another time Overhaul spontaneously breaks out into hives is when Shigaraki leaves him.

No hives when Compress and Shigaraki touch him to remove his arms. Overhaul seems to be in shock. But Shigaraki’s words finally penetrate.

“You should just sit back and watch!! Have a nice life!”

“I just want to repay the debt I owe you. So please, just sit back…and watch.”

It’s these words from Shigaraki that prompt Overhaul to break out into hives, probably because, by sheer luck, Shigaraki quotes Overhaul’s last words to the boss. Before putting the boss in a coma, Overhaul told him to sit back and watch—one problem with that being, obviously, that someone in a coma can’t watch. So (again by sheer luck) Shigaraki actually does Overhaul one better and fulfills his words better than he did.

Similarly, Shigaraki is stealing Overhaul’s life’s work—just like how Overhaul stole the boss’s life’s work, the Hassaikai—and Overhaul’s quirk, just like how Overhaul stole Mirio’s…but Shigaraki steals them better than Overhaul did. It’s Overhaul’s lofty ambition to use the quirk serum change the world, to establish himself as normal and at the center of his new society, that serves as the basis of Overhaul’s self-esteem.…and it’s Overhaul’s quirk that gives Overhaul his name.

By removing his quirk, Shigaraki strips Overhaul of the name he gave himself. He’s no longer Overhaul, and he’s not even the boss’s man “Chisaki” anymore—he’s the nameless child on the streets whom everybody shuns. The outcast, the reject, someone who can only sit on the sidelines and helplessly watch.

Overhaul’s arc ends on the contrast between them. Overhaul is introduced as the mature, more methodical villain who threatens to supplant Shigaraki as AfO’s successor, but the story unmasks him as an irredeemable, reprehensible hypocrite who can’t stand by anything. Shigaraki, however, proves he’ll stand for what little ground he ekes out, and he copes with his resentment over his outsider status by openly acknowledging it and bonding with fellow outcasts to forge their own home.

Ultimately, I think the core of Overhaul’s character boils down to 1) he doesn’t believe that people matter, 2) he feels intense alienation and isolation, and 3) he’s afraid he’s abnormal. How those three things interrelate, which of them is cause and which is effect, is flexible. I figure his hatred of quirks stems from one of these, probably (1).

Power is another consideration, one that I didn’t look at in my analysis since I think his thirst for power is his attempt to belong/alleviate his sense of abnormality by gaining status. And, though I think Overhaul is framed as a sociopath-like person whose lack of empathy is innate, I think there could be a solid characterization made for his extreme lack of empathy being a consequence of nurture, like he feels like a freak due to a childhood tragedy.

Miscellaneous Overhaul details;

Overhaul doesn’t seem to break out into hives when he touches dirty inanimate objects, like the floor; his phobia of “dirtiness” is focused on people.

His phobia is implied to have escalated or begun during adulthood. He didn’t seem to wear a mask as a kid, nor did he seem to break into hives before the canon timeline (Overhaul has no hives in any of his flashbacks, even when he’s cutting Eri or surrounded by gore).

Overhaul begins to wear his plague mask after a major argument with the boss over proper conduct for a yakuza.

Despite being Overhaul’s father-figure, the boss called him “Chisaki” instead of “Kai”—he might’ve been too traditional/stuffy to use Overhaul’s given name even when he was just a kid.

Mirio reminds Overhaul of the boss, which is why their fight gets so personal.

Overhaul hates Eri so much because they’re similar—both are “aberrations” who don’t belong. Eri is emphasized as a mutation who was rejected by even her mom, and the boss explicitly links their quirks…except that Eri has what he wants: the boss’s acceptance and a “normal” compassionate disposition, the latter of which he viciously leverages against her in order to punish her for it.

And also like…by virtue of being a young, little, helpless, sweet girl, meaning that she’s the perfect victim heroes always want to save more than anything, her life is disproportionately valuable to people, and that’s the sort of sentimental value Overhaul wants to destroy.

More reading;

If you somehow want to read even more about Overhaul, I only vaguely remember what these analyses are about bc it’s been a while since I last saw them, but each of these should have an interesting perspective on him.

Youtube video “The Beauty of Kai Chisaki” about the Buddhist context of Overhaul and the Shie Hassaikai.

A second youtube video called “Eri’s Quirk Explained with Philosophy” (about Overhaul, Eri, and the return to innocence) are both worth checking out.

^^ I won’t link them directly because I’ve heard tumblr filters posts with external links out of searches.

Overhaul lost because people cared about his victims.

Linkspooky interprets Overhaul’s phobia as evidence of his repressed guilt, and they’ve also compared him and Shigaraki.

This conversation about Overhaul’s motives.

#bnha #bnha meta #overhaul #chisaki kai #overhaul characterization #overhaul arc #okay now that I've gotten overhaul outta my system I want to do another body language post #I'm almost done with uraraka's so she'll probably be next #no.13

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yoon-kooks · 4 years

Text

Blood to Spare

Pairing: Prince!Jimin x Knight!Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Royal!AU

Summary: When a malicious threat is made against Prince Jimin’s life just hours before Garreg Mach’s annual ball, it is your sworn duty to accompany him as his date and ensure he makes it through the night unscathed. For as the Prince’s personal guard, you must be willing to cut down any blade that takes aim at him, even if it’s your own heart.

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: blood, death, fingering, unprotected sex, it’s honestly super vanilla

A/N: wooooooo 2020 is finally here and so is prince jimin;;;;; this fic is based around fire emblem three houses, but you don’t need to know anything about the game to enjoy the story! but if you do love fire emblem like me, you’ll pick up on some references here and there. also lmk if you guys are interested in a prequel and sequel! ++special shoutouts to @d-noona and @scalbra for the love and support💖

You examine the bright red trail streaming down the set of ribs in front of you. The boy lies there in pain, but you offer him no sympathy. It’s his own fault, after all.

“Agh!” He tightens his fists as you press the weight of your body down onto the wound. And if the pressure alone is not enough to make the boy beg for mercy, you know what is. Alcohol and ointment seep into the depth of his gash until the burning sensation draws the response you’re looking for. “Is all of the pressing and stinging really necessary, Y/N?” he yelps.

“It wouldn’t be necessary if you had been more careful like I advised, Jimin,” you shake your head, bandaging up the boy’s disinfected ribs. “But we can’t afford to have our beloved professor and future ruler of Fodlan bleed to death after a mock battle with his students. Especially not with the ball tomorrow evening.”

In the land of Fodlan, an annual ball is held during the Ethereal Moon to celebrate both the year’s end and the founding of Garreg Mach Monastery. For this year in particular, it is crucial for Fodlan’s Prince Jimin to be present and act as a bridge that unifies the continent’s three main nations: Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester.

And although you despise formal gatherings such as this one, it is your mission as one of the Knights of Seiros and Jimin’s personal guard to ensure that the Prince is well and able enough to fulfill his political affairs for the night.

“Speaking of the ball, I have yet to find myself a date,” Jimin says as he reclothes his upper half. “It seems no one is interested in sharing a dance with me…”

You know that’s a big fat lie. Jimin may not be the only professor at the Officers Academy, but he is certainly the most popular one amongst both students and faculty due to his charm and royal status. Even back when he was a student himself, he always seemed to have everyone wrapped around his finger. Everyone except you. Though you suppose that’s the reason you were appointed to be his personal guard since becoming a Knight of Seiros.

“That’s too bad,” you say. Again, you offer no sympathy or solution to the boy’s misfortune.

“Well since all of the Knights of Seiros have to be at the ball anyway, I wouldn't mind if you were my date, Y/N.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles, as if that’s going to make the offer any more tempting.

“No thanks. My job at the ball is to protect you, not dance with you,” you shake him off. This isn’t the first or last time he’s tried to make a romantic advance on you. The naïve teenage you might’ve been swooned, but ever since devoting your life to protecting Jimin, romantic affairs have become of little significance to you. “And besides, if you’re not in immediate danger, it’s better for us to keep a distance at the ball.”

Jimin’s smile fades because he knows you’re right. It would reflect poorly on Fodlan’s future ruler to be associated on an intimate level with someone who lacks nobility and a crest. With a heavy sigh, there’s nothing the boy can do but concede defeat to your rejection. You, on the other hand, have more to say.

“Rather than worrying about finding a date to dance with, keep in mind your responsibilities as the prince. Tomorrow is an opportunity to build a stronger relationship between-”

“-the three nations,” he interrupts your scolding to end the conversation. “You don’t have to remind me, Y/N.”

It is not often that the Prince speaks with bitterness towards you. You don’t take personal offense from it, though, because you know it comes from a place of built-up stress and frustration. To be born into a position of power has its cons too, and you know better than anyone that this isn’t a path Jimin would’ve chosen for himself.

Still, it’s your duty to make sure the Prince is properly fulfilling all of his duties. And sometimes he needs to learn to set aside his personal feelings, just as you’ve done with yours.

“Very well,” you say, stepping out of his room. “I’ll see you in the morning, Your Highness.”

When morning comes, the walk to the Knight’s Hall feels exceptionally long and quiet. Students are rushing to set up last-minute décor and finishing touches before sundown when the ball is set to begin. However, all that chaos and chatter is drowned out by the piercing tension between you and the boy you’re escorting.

It’s clear he’s still mad at you. Probably because you last referred to him, not by name, but by status. Ever since you became his personal guard years ago, he’s always encouraged you to simply call him Jimin. It took a while, but you eventually picked up the habit and noticed the delight on Jimin’s face whenever he heard his name. As far as you know, you’re the only one who drops the formalities with him.

But because you had purposely called him “Your Highness” out of spite, you’ve now reopened the gap between you and him. Like cutting back into an old scar.

You’re thankful when you finally reach the Knight’s Hall and your fellow Knights of Seiros waste no time in filling the void of silence that had followed you into the room.

“Early this morning, a student found this letter posted on the doors to the Entrance Hall,” Seokjin hands you a torn parchment paper to look at.

“We cannot allow the nations of Fodlan to become one under the absolute rule of the Central Church here at Garreg Mach. We urge the Archbishop to consider canceling the annual ball, and with it, the meeting between Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester. If not, we will have no choice but to burn the bridge that seeks to unify Fodlan as one. Peace shall never be found in an allegiance that blindly sides where power lies.”

It only takes a second for you to piece together who the target in question is—the bridge that seeks to unify Fodlan, Prince Jimin.

“They want the ball cancelled or they want the Prince’s head,” you grind your teeth.

To an extent, you understand the point of disagreement between political views. The current rule, for example, does not exactly favor the Crestless or have plans of changing that any time soon. Even if Fodlan were to unite as a single nation as it had hundreds of years ago, the divide between nobility and the Crestless would only continue to increase.

That being said, a threat on the Prince’s life is enough for you to set aside your own feelings as a Crestless. If someone is willing to go as far as point their blade in Jimin’s direction, they are already dead in your eyes.

“I’ve already spoken with the Archbishop and she wishes for the ball to proceed as planned. For all we know, this could be an empty threat. I doubt the enemy has the means to break through our defenses,” Namjoon says. “However, we, the Knights of Seiros, will still need to be on high alert to ensure the night runs smoothly.”

“Understood,” you say, glancing at the boy whose life is on the line. “I will not allow anything to happen to the Prince.”

“Actually,” Namjoon continues, “the Archbishop has requested for you to act as Prince Jimin’s date for the night as a precaution to any assassin that may be lurking from within the monastery.”

“Understood,” you say again, but with an awkwardness far worse than the silent void from earlier. The last thing you need is to act all lovey-dovey with the boy you just rejected and are not on good speaking terms with.

Once the other knights have left to stand guard and investigate the origins behind the letter, your mind starts spinning. You don’t want to formally attend the ball, you know nothing about the proper etiquette of nobility, Jimin probably hates your guts, you don’t know how to dance, you have no gown to wear, and Jimin probably hates your—

The boy motions for you to follow him, pulling you out of your daze and into town to grab all the essentials for the Garreg Mach annual ball.

Several hours later, you sit in the Prince’s quarters, staring at the long flowy gown you’re supposed to be wearing. As a knight with a commoner upbringing, the occasion to wear such a fancy garment never arose, so you feel a bit perplexed with what to do next. For starters, you don’t even have a clue how to get it on.

“Do you need help?” Jimin raises an eyebrow at you as he straightens up his royal blue uniform, one very well suited for a prince.

“I got it,” you shake your head. Succumbing to the Prince’s assistance would only be a sign of weakness. You’ll find a way to figure it out on your own if it means avoiding Jimin’s gaze as you struggle to get the dress on. “Just turn around for a second and don't watch me from the mirror either.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” he hums, lowkey throwing shade as he turns his back to you. You haven’t yet apologized for calling him that, but he’s definitely making sure you’re aware of it.

You bite your tongue until you’ve stepped into the dress. It still feels a bit loose, but you put it on to the best of your ability. When you give him the okay to turn around again, the first thing he does is crack a smirk.

“What?” You shoot him a dirty look.

He gestures for you to come closer and spins you around. As he reties your dress’ complex ribbons from behind, you feel the gown becoming snugger in the appropriate places. Very slightly, you feel the cold tips of Jimin’s fingers tickle your skin as he ties the last ribbon at the back of your neck. You don’t say anything, but your body reacts accordingly.

“Oh? Someone has goose bumps,” he snickers, spinning you back around to face him. Before you can blame it on his cold hands, he gives you a good look from head to toe. “The dress looks pretty on you, by the way.”

“Thank you, Jimin.” More than his compliment, you’re thankful that he’s at least speaking kindly to you again. “And my apologies for yesterday.”

The chilling tips of his fingers have since wandered up to your cheeks, and the only reason you don’t swat him away is because it’s something he’s done since the two of you were little. He cups your cheeks and gives them a gentle squeeze before jumping back to the conversation as if it were nothing. You’ve never questioned him about it, but given the context of all the times you can recall, you assume it’s his way of showing forgiveness.

“I should not have lashed out at you in the first place. The thought of becoming Fodlan’s ruler is just… a lot for one person to bear,” Jimin finally releases your cheeks and backs away to the edge of his bed. “But that’s why it’s a relief to have you with me at my side tonight.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Not just tonight,” you remind him. “Always.”

“Yeah, but it’s not every night I get to see the cold-blooded Y/N all dolled up and without a swor-” He cuts himself off when he sees you lifting up the skirt of your gown as if you’ve forgotten a (handsome and needy) boy is still in the room with you.

You’re so focused on trying to hide your trusty Hero’s Relic sword, Blutgang, beneath your dress that you do not realize how much of your lower body you’ve exposed. “A knight can never be without their blade.”

“What if it tears the gown open…?” Jimin’s question gives the illusion of concern, though he probably would not be opposed to that scenario.

“It would be embarrassing, but I’d rather be embarrassed than unprepared,” you blink at the boy.

“I suppose you’re going to stick the whole Aegis Shield down there as well then?” He blinks back. You know he’s trying to clown you, but it’s also no secret that you’ve never been without the shield since it was gifted to you from the Prince himself.

You shake your head. “It’s too big to hide. I don’t want to stand out anymore than I already will.” Because amongst a crowd of nobles and royalty, a Crestless like you will be no more than a fish out of water. Even the most beautiful gown cannot hide that reality.

“If anyone says something about you, I’ll-”

“You’ll smile and move on because you have a reputation to maintain,” you finish the statement for him.

“Will you really be okay with that?” Jimin frowns.

All you do is nod. You don’t need protecting or for your feelings to be spared. It’s your job to defend him; not the other way around.

As the sun sets later that evening, you follow the Prince’s lead into the glamor and prestige of Garreg Mach’s annual ball. Aside from keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, all you need to do is act pretty and proper. You’ve learned at least that much after observing the event from afar all these years as a Knight of Seiros.

You don’t hold his hand, but rather, you hook your arm around his. If you were truly in love with your date, you’d much prefer to intertwine your fingers with his and never let go. That, to you, would feel more comforting and secure. But love is not the game you’re playing.

As Jimin makes his rounds to greet each and every guest, you evaluate their individual intentions. Fortune, luxury, reputation, power. From years past, you recall that many female guests had also made romantic advances on the Prince through not-so-subtle caresses, bedroom eyes, and the like. The way you stare at them with such intensity of judgment must be quite intimidating because not a single romantic advance is made on Jimin this year with you beside him.

Even through the casual, yet all important, gathering of Fodlan’s leaders, you observe no sign of suspicious activity and sense no danger to the Prince’s life. The King of Faerghus, the Emperor of Adrestia, the Leader of Leicester, and Jimin all chat as though they are one big happy family, each expressing interest in moving forward with the unification of their nations.

If the letter turns out to be an empty threat as Namjoon suggested, perhaps the unification of Fodlan can be settled without any casualties. That would be the best case scenario, though you’re still skeptical that anything could ever be that simple.

Once handshakes are exchanged and the meeting is adjourned, Jimin sends his fellow leaders off with that charming smile of his, and you try to do the same. You wouldn’t exactly describe your own smile as charming—“forced” is probably a better word for it—but it seems to be satisfactory enough for all but the Adrestrian Emperor.

She doesn’t say anything, but her long stare in your direction tells you she knows something. Whether it’s that you’re the only Crestless in attendance, or that you were once a child of Adrestia, she finally returns a smile similar to your own before heading back out of the meeting room.

“That went pretty well, didn’t it?” Jimin pulls you in closer to him as the two of you step back into the lively reception hall where most of the guests are gathered. When you turn to face him, he radiates. Part of you wants to mention the off-putting vibe you got from the Adrestian Emperor, but a larger part of you wishes not to put a damper on Jimin’s high spirits. So you keep your mouth shut.

Besides, you believe the Emperor’s intentions, if any, are not directed toward the Prince. And that assumption is quickly confirmed based on the gossip now floating around amongst the noble guests.

“What business does a Crestless have with the Prince?”

“Prince Jimin can do so much better.”

“I heard that’s the one who slaughtered an entire army with a stolen Hero’s Relic.”

“The one also responsible for Prince Hoseok’s death?”

“Such a sinful Crestless exists?”

“At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who he’s fooling around with. As heir to the Fodlan throne, there’s no way anyone would allow him to marry below nobility.”

You do your best not to roll your eyes at the comments made about yourself. They don’t upset you, but you are annoyed. You certainly do not need to be reminded of your worth, your sins, or that Jimin would be better off with literally anyone else as his date. You don’t need to hear the very thoughts that have haunted and tormented your mind for as long as you can remember.

They don’t know your whole story, and you don’t care to share it with them either. Let them think what they will.

You suddenly spin Jimin in front of you, close the distance as much you can without kissing his ear, and whisper, “Can we get a change of scenery?” The boy agrees and pulls you away from the festivities of the ball.

“I wish you didn’t have to hear all that nonsense,” he says after closing the door to his quarters. Luckily, his room is not too far from the reception hall.

“Oh, I wasn’t bothered by that,” you shrug, unhooking the sword from the garter on your thigh and leaning it with the unused shield. “I just wanted those foul guests to believe we eloped or something. Maybe they’ll start a rumor about that too.”

“Y/N,” Jimin sits you down on his bed, “I can tell when something bothers you, you know.”

“How?”

“You start acting petty out of spite.”

He’s not wrong. Your pettiness is one habit you’ve never been able to shake from your soul. “Regardless, those nobles can think or say whatever they please about me. Nothing will ever change the worth of a Crestless anyway.”

“It shouldn’t matter if you bear a crest or not,” he says softly.

“It shouldn’t, but it does. It matters plenty to the nations of Fodlan. Crests hold a lot of power, which means bearers are not exiled from their own bloodline, they are not expendable objects, and they do not have to fight for their right to exist. If not for the Central Church, you and I-”

“You and I would not have met.” He’s wrong.

“We wouldn’t have met under these circumstances, but we would’ve met,” you say, “as enemies of war.” Because had the church not taken you from your birthplace of Adrestia as a child, you’d surely want to stop Fodlan’s unification like the ones who wrote that letter.

“Then I’m forever grateful we met the way we did,” Jimin leans over you until your back is down against the bed. From above, he has you in a place of vulnerability. “Because I will always fancy you more than any bearer of a crest.”

From below, you look up into his eyes and find solace in the one person you want to trust. It’s just a matter of accepting that solace and allowing yourself to trust enough to let him in.

Before you know it, soft caresses of the Prince’s lips invade your skin. He starts just below your cheek and works his way down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he goes. Your chin lifts and tilts on its own, as if to uncover more skin for the boy to please. He thankfully picks up on the cue and tends to your needs.

At the same time, you struggle to downplay the desperation in your body. You shouldn’t be having an intimate moment with the Prince when you’re supposed to be protecting him. After all, it’s wrong to be so lustful for a forbidden affair.

But the feeling of him against your bare skin is painfully addicting. The more he kisses, the further you want to go.

“We shouldn’t… be doing this…” you manage to say against your desires.

“What should we be doing then?” Jimin’s fingers run through your hair as he waits patiently for a response, but even the most innocent touch is making it hard to think. You only have one thing consuming your mind, and it isn’t what you should be doing.

You reach for his ruffled collar to pull his body down closer to you, practically reducing the space between you and him to nothing. To answer the boy’s question, you start unbuttoning his uniform from top to bottom. After tossing the princely uniform aside, it only takes him a second to rid you of the gown that had seemed so difficult to get on.

Without thinking, you pull him back on top of you. You’re aching to be touched, you need to be relieved of this unbearable heat, and you’ve reached the point of desperation where your legs are spread out as wide as they can go.

“You poor thing,” Jimin teases, staring right between your thighs for the longest second until finally swiping a sample of your glaze. He makes it a point to show you how wet you’ve made his fingers before sucking them off with a naughty smirk. “Is this what years of lusting after me tastes like?”

You hate that he’s very much aware of the feelings you had for him at one point in time. However, those feelings have since become much more complex. You’ve done your best to block out any romantic feelings and channel those lost emotions elsewhere for the sake of protecting the Prince. So what does that really leave you with?

“Aah…!” A moan escapes your throat when Jimin’s fingers give you another pleasant surprise down there. Only this time, he strokes you in a circular motion, over and over again. Your breathing quickens to the rhythm of his touch—he’s taken control over your body’s sensual instincts. And every time he casually brushes against your erect little bud, a wave of sensitivity makes you gasp out in pleasure.

Though your eyes remain shut for the most part to cope with the immense pleasure, you do catch a glimpse of the Prince’s now swollen cock. Either he’s been multitasking while pleasuring you, or the sight and sounds of your feverish state were more than enough to get him hard. When he stiffens and moans upon your sudden touch, you know it’s the latter.

As you glide your hand up and down his length, you angle yourself right beneath him to be in the optimal fucking position. With your free hand, you use your index and middle fingers to spread yourself open, and, with the other, you direct and ease the handful of cock into your entrance.

Once Jimin’s in deep enough, you let go and soothe the throbbing of your excited clit. As you take your time in building up the intensity, you glance up at the boy to make sure he’s watching you play with yourself. The sheer arousal reflected in your eyes seems to encourage him to start thrusting in and out of you to build up his own climax.

As your fingers continue to tease your clit and Jimin’s length continues to run through you, the sensations become so overwhelming that you can no longer tell where they’re coming from. Your entire body feels hot and tingly as if the sex were a wildfire that spread from head to toe. The only difference is that you wish the flame would never go out.

Based on how much Jimin’s moans have increased in volume and frequency, you can tell he’s as close as you are. You at first try to keep your fingers in rhythm with his quickening thrusts, but the rhythm is lost when the fucking becomes driven by total lust and no thought. Still, you manage to hit your high just before he reaches his.

For a long while, you lay there, waiting for your heartbeat to calm as Jimin does the same from above. If there was ever any tension, sexual or not, between you and the Prince, it’s certainly gone now. Looking up at the boy now, after the waves of sex have finally settled, you feel at peace. Even if it’s short-lived, you have to be content with the intimacy you were able to spend with the boy you once loved.

So when he goes in for the long-awaited kiss, you have to interrupt him. A kiss from the Prince would be asking for a little too much on a forbidden night of many other sins.

“I should go back to being your guard now,” you say softly, scooting your ass over to change back into the gown. “Then we need to return to the ball. I’d hate for assassins to attack over there while we’re here in the middle of… this…”

But before you can hop off the bed, Jimin stops you in your tracks. “Don’t worry, the assassination attempt won’t happen.”

“How can you be sure?” you ask in genuine curiosity because there must’ve been something you missed.

“Because I was the one who faked the letter this morning.”

You freeze. Why would the Prince ever want to fake an assassination threat on his own life? You can think of one reason, but you really hope that’s not the case. “Jimin, if you faked a dangerous situation for the sake of getting me to attend this damned ball with you, I won’t forgive you.”

When he fails to give you a response, you ball your hand up into a tight fist and start putting on your usual knight uniform as opposed to your gown. You can’t believe you allowed yourself to be so foolishly deceived.

“Y/N, wait-”

“Do you really not give a damn about your own life or duties as the future ruler of Fodlan?” you snap. “I’d rather give my life for someone who prioritizes their responsibilities for the sake of the entire continent than an entitled little prince who’d forgo all of that for someone born without a crest.”

You’re mad at not only the Prince but also yourself. You thought that after being so blinded and betrayed by trust once before, you’d never forget the fatal consequences of opening your heart to anyone. Trust and compassion have only ever brought you despair.

“If the assassination threat was all a hoax, I suppose my protection is no longer needed for the rest of the night.” You pick up your sword and slam the door behind you, leaving the shield behind once again.

You escape to the woodsy outskirts of Central Fodlan south of the monastery. The area may be recovering now with young saplings and shrubs as small animal families return home, but you still remember the scorched land from years ago when the first war you fought in took place. No matter where you walk, you stand on the soil once soaked in the blood of your enemies and allies.

But before the war, you had often paid visits to this secluded part of Fodlan whenever you needed time and space away from the monastery. There, you had first encountered a kid around your age who was kind enough to befriend you, despite your differences. It’s a shame you can no longer go back to the time when you could ignorantly trust in people without worry. And even if you could go back, you’d do everything differently so that the Prince would not have had to suffer the desolate fate you bestowed upon him.

It’s all your fault for carelessly putting your trust in others.

When you find a tree tall enough to lean against, you unsheathe your sword and examine it under the moonlight. The reddish brown sheen that reflects in the light is not rust, but your sins. It seems the blade will never be rid of the blood that tainted it on that day.

“It’d be best if we could lure the Prince and his guard away from the festivities.” Your sharp ears pick up on a small troop of rogue soldiers headed in the direction of the monastery. It sounds an awful lot like an assassination attempt.

From behind the tree, you try to figure out what the heck is going on while also deciding on the best course of action. Why are there foreign soldiers going after Jimin if he said the threat was a fake?

…Unless he was lying about that too.

You groan silently to yourself. For as long as you’ve known Jimin, he’s always been quite unpredictable to you and his actions are often questionable until you get an explanation. Perhaps there’s a better reason for his lie this time. But for now, you have to find a way to lure the soldiers away from the innocent guests at the monastery.

Just then, you swing your sword around at the slightest brush against your shoulder, but it turns out to only be the foolish Prince everyone’s looking for. You lower your blade.

“What are you doing, walking out here without a guard?” you hiss.

“Actually, I’m looking for my guard who seems to have abandoned me,” he says with the Aegis Shield you had left behind.

“That’s what you get for being an irresponsible Prince.” You keep your eye on the soldiers. “But before I smack you in the head for that, we have to do something about that troop over there.”

“They don’t look really tough, though.” Jimin takes the opportunity to lean right over you against the tree, but you aren’t quite ready to start accepting his flirtatious antics again.

“But that’s what makes it suspicious,” you blatantly ignore his failed kabedon. “They know they won't stand a chance against the Knights of Seiros, so why even bother?”

“It could be a trap?” he suggests. “Or maybe they have other intentions.”

“Whatever the case, we’ll stop them here and now.”

You make sure the Prince has a sword of his own before shoving him out from behind the tree. If the rustling of dead leaves did not already capture the attention of the soldiers, your shouting and waving at them does.

The alarmed soldiers quickly shift their sights from the monastery to you and the Prince. As soon as they begin to charge, so do you. Unlike many royal guards who stick close to their highnesses, you do not. Jimin may have lived a life of luxury as Prince, but you’ve made sure he learned how to fend for himself. In fact, he was the one who suggested that you teach him proper swordsmanship in the first place—perhaps one of his many elaborate schemes to get closer to you.

As soon as you clash blades with a soldier brave enough, you recognize the enemy troop is no pushover like you and Jimin had anticipated. Though they have the appearance of commoners who’ve never held a weapon in their life, the power behind their swing is comparable to your own. And it doesn’t quite add up.

When you’ve suppressed several soldiers, you glance over to Jimin exchanging blows with an assassin who has a more proper handle of his blade. Jimin’s golden shield blocks many of what could’ve been fatal blows, but its weight also hinders his movement against the nimble assassin.

You rush over, whipping your sword at the assassin to push him back from Jimin’s vicinity. Once you engage in a long drawn sword exchange with the assassin, you’re taken back by the familiarity in the energy he emanates. It somehow feels like the power from the Crest of Fraldarius, the very crest that Jimin bears. But that can’t be the case when crests are inherited through specific bloodlines by chance. And as far as you know, this random soldier has no blood connection to Jimin or House Fraldarius.

Either way, you eventually gain the advantage and pierce the enemy as the curved blade of your Blutgang bleeds once more. Crest or no crest, the enemy nor the Prince can keep up with the mercilessness in your every swing. In what feels like minutes, you’ve cut down the entire troop aside from the few that Jimin could handle himself.

You stare down at the body of the soldier who had given Jimin an exceptionally hard time. “Did you notice that this one had-”

“The Crest of Fraldarius,” Jimin nods. “There’s no mistaking it, but somehow it felt off.”

“Like it wasn’t the real deal?”

“Like it was a crest that didn’t belonged to him.”

The boy’s suggestion gives you something to think about. You wonder if the other soldiers also had crests of some sort—crests that were not rightfully theirs. It’s as if they were once Crestless who somehow extracted and obtained the power of a crest. Perhaps by the means of the most sacred and darkest of sorcery.

Just when you’re finally able to lower your sword, you raise it again to guard against another unwelcomed guest. With a stream of dark magic striking the earth in front of the Prince, you dash over to shield him from any other potential impacts. What you get instead is a mysterious hooded mage who doesn’t seem interested in challenging you. The magic that radiates off him is far stronger than any of the other soldiers.

“Well done on putting a stop to our little assassination plot,” he says. “But it seems we’ve already gathered a lot of valuable intel on our real target.”

“Who’s your real target then?” Jimin asks.

“Someone who can wield Hero’s Relics and slaughter crest bearers despite bearing no crest of their own.” The mage looks first at the bloodstained blade in your grips and then directly at you. His eyes are not so different from your own—empty.

Rather than the Prince’s head, they wanted you.

But why?

Before you can ask the man, he disappears into the unknown along with the bodies of his fallen soldiers. And although the outskirts are quiet once more with only you and the Prince, you keep your eyes peeled and wait a good ten seconds before sheathing your weapon.

You try to make sense of the enemy’s true intentions from a rational perspective, but the mage’s words still do not sit well with you. What exactly were they planning on doing with you, a Crestless who can wield Hero’s Relics and slaughter crest bearers?

“I won’t let them have you,” Jimin nudges your side, whilst holding the Aegis Shield out in front of you and him. “I’d even die for you.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” you play along with his dramatic scene just for a moment. Something about the boy makes you forget about your worries, your pain. “But please never die for my sake, Jimin.”

“Then how about I live for you?” he asks.

“Live first for the people of Fodlan,” you respond, hooking your arm once more around his. “Shall we return to the ball now before everyone wonders where their Prince ran off to?”

“No need. I already properly excused myself from the ball for the rest of the night.” Jimin frowns when you unhook your arm faster than you can swing your sword. “But I would like you to escort me back to my quarters.”

“Fine,” you agree. “But on the way back, you need to tell me why you lied about faking that real assassination threat.”

So he does.

“I still think it was a stupid move, Jimin.”

“I just wanted to take your mind off of your knightly duties without worrying about my safety for once! I thought you’d feel more comfortable with me if you knew my life was not in immediate danger,” he waves his hands in defense. “I didn’t think you’d actually abandon me.”

“Well sorry for thinking you made up the threat just so I’d sleep with you. You made me believe you weren’t taking the nature of your job seriously, and that the future of Fodlan was doomed with a ruler who thinks only with his cock,” you jab lightly into his ribs, forgetting all about the wound from the day before.

“Worry not. The future of Fodlan will always be my first priority,” he assures you. “But you are also part of Fodlan’s future, aren’t you? Doesn’t that still make you my first priority then?”

“When you put it that way, I guess so,” you say, though you genuinely wonder about that. Because as a Crestless, you’ve never felt like you belonged in Fodlan. “But just know that you needn’t go that far for me, Jimin.”

“And you needn’t act so tough all the time, Y/N.” He wants you to know that you can rely on him, that you can be vulnerable, and that he’ll protect you just as you protect him. You understand all of that, and yet, it’s still easier said than done.

Once you safely escort the Prince back to his quarters, you think you can finally relieve yourself of guard duty for the night and put some real thought into the mysterious mage’s intentions. But you’re wrong.

“Let me clean up that wound on your cheek before you go,” Jimin air-pokes the high point on your cheek.

“I didn’t realize I was cut there in battle…” you say, letting the boy reel you back into his room.

You sit patiently on his bed as he searches for a bandage, but you wouldn’t put it past the senseless Prince to not have any medical supplies lying around his quarters. You’re the one who’s usually tending to his wounds with your own first-aid kit anyway.

When not a single bandage is found, Jimin walks back over to you and pinches your cheeks together just as he had earlier in the day. You don’t quite understand the context this time, and especially not after he sneaks a kiss onto where your supposed wound was.

“That should heal the wound.” The smile on his face is too smug for your liking.

Very quickly, your face turns into a big fat pout. “If you continue to lie and fool around like this, you’re going to end up like the boy who cried beast.”

“For as sharp as you are in sniffing out an enemy, you sure are gullible around me, Y/N,” he teases.

“That’s because I want to believe that everything with you is real,” you say, “even if it can’t.”

The boy’s smile is quick to fade.

“Just kidding,” you shrug, getting up from the bed. “Anyway, I should get going now. Goodnight, Jimin.”

He doesn’t stop you. He can’t stop you because he knows you weren’t kidding about wishing for a fate that wasn’t meant for you. And that’s not something a kiss could ever change.

While you’re glad Jimin will be taking responsibility in prioritizing Fodlan from here on out, you still have much to be concerned about. Your presence has only complicated matters when the Prince is someone who thinks with his heart, not his head—to the point where he’d give up everything for you.

You’ve tried to make him set aside his personal feelings for the sake of Fodlan’s future, but it’s apparent that he cannot separate you, the one he wants to protect, from Fodlan, the land he needs to protect. He cannot see that, no matter how much he wishes for things to be different, you and all the other Crestless will never truly belong in the future of Fodlan—the Fodlan he will soon lead.

If you were to leave his side, perhaps he would be able to see that he’s trying to make the impossible possible. After all, unless Crestless are able to prove their worth to the nobles of Fodlan, they are worth nothing at all. The only way to prove your worth is to be merciless, tough, and to spare no blood. And maybe only then would Jimin be able to fully realize that this is where your two paths diverge.

It’s only after you’ve walked out and closed the door that you leave the Prince with one last thing to consider. “I know my place in this world, and it’s never been with you, Jimin. Even I’m not that gullible.”

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #jimin x reader #bts angst #jimin fanfic #bts royal au #bts fluff #jimin #bts #bangtan #blood to spare #fire emblem au #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #bts x fire emblem

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ourplaceinthecosmosphff · 4 years

Text

Chapter 16. Fight or Flight

‘I am healing by mistake. Rome is also built on ruins.' Eliza Griswold

“It’s a private street,” Harry explained as he walked me on quickstep towards the big black gates in red brick ahead. “Technically owned by the Crown Estate. Most of the houses are embassies or former embassies now owned by billionaires.” “Was someone supposed to have stopped me from just walking in?” I asked, already guessing the answer.

“A little weird to have a central London address mostly habited by dignitaries and rich people and forbid people from entering it, isn’t it?” He grinned. “So it’s open for pedestrians and cyclists twenty-four-seven. Cars only authorized. And, of course, they are free to kick you out if they think you’re behaving strangely.”

“Understandable.” I smiled.

“...So…” He started, shifting on his feet as he walked, adjusting my bag on his shoulder, “Where’s Christopher?”

“...Right now? Halfway to Canada, probably. On business.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “And… your security?”

I looked around at the street lights, avoiding his eyes. “It’s just me.”

“Right… but, should it be? Isn’t it a bit--?” Before he could finish -- ‘dangerous’ was probably going to be his last word -- I stopped, and looked at his, heaving a sigh. “This is weird. Isn’t it? I’m sorry, I can get a hotel.”

Under the moon and lamp post lights, I thought I saw his cheeks redden. “No, that’s not--! I don’t-- You’re welcome here, of course! I was just… worried. You shouldn’t be walking around on your own.”

At this charming revelation, said in an even more charming tone, I smiled, sheepishly. “Well, I am.”

“So, no… major changes after the… new succession?”

I sighed, remembering Joyce, my protection officer that had been replaced, and Cadie. “Some. Not tonight, though.”

We were quietly ushered through a pedestrian steel door a few steps after the big gates, which magically opened when Harry approached. His protection officer followed after us.

“Uh, sir?” He called when we kept walking.

Looking back, Harry startled slightly. “Oh, that’s right. Do you mind?” He looked at me, “They need to sign you in.”

“Oh, of course.” We walked to the security cabin near the bigger gate, where another guard, this one in uniform, smiled at us.

“ID, ma’am?”

I handed him my passport from my coat’s pocket, which I had kept handy for the train.

“I’m sorry about this,” Harry said, worried, “It’s… bloody protocol.”

“It’s alright.” I smiled. “You do remember I live in a palace, too? If there’s one thing I understand in life is protocol.”

He smiled back. “She’ll already be registered.” Harry told the guard. “She was here last October.”

I remembered, distantly, filling up my passport in security forms before the tour, and we had come to Kensington for tea once. A lifetime ago.

The guard returned my passport and wished us a goodnight, so Harry walked me towards the palace, now unaccompanied by any officers.

We didn’t go into the main building, however, like when I visited William and Catherine’s house, we went around it.

“So…” Harry started. “I don’t live in the main palace. I don’t got an apartment. It’s… small, my place. Really small. Two bedrooms! So, should be fine, but–”

“Is this--?” I stopped walking, my mind finally catching up to where I was and what I’d done. “Should I not have come? This is weird, right? I didn’t mean to barge in and--”

“No!”

“I’m sorry, I can get a hotel–”

“No, really– It’s fine!” He assured me. “I just wanted you to be prepared, because it’s not a… big, fancy place like my brother’s house, or my father’s house. It’s just… a cottage, really. It’s tiny. I live alone, so it’s quite good just for me–”

I sighed, feeling relieved. Now almost amused. “Agani, fellow royal. I live in a palace? I know how it works. It’s not all a palace.”

He smiled. “Yes… It’s just that people always seem to think it’s all very glamorous.”

The house was nice, it was, as he had mentioned, smaller than most, but it made up for it with that warm, comfortable look of a real home. The front door led into what seemed like one room, with sliding doors separating the smaller half – a kitchen with faded yellow cabinets that needed upgrading, but looked nice. The other half had a blue three-seat sofa and a matching armchair in front of a wooden chest of drawers in which was propped up a flat-screen TV – the only thing in the room that looked like he had actually purchased and not inherited, or maybe borrowed from the Royal Collection.

“It’s nice.” I told him in the silence. He was still watching me from the front door, which he’d just closed, my bag still hanging from his shoulder. “I like it.”

“Are you hungry?” He asked, with a smile, moving quickly into the kitchen. “We could order takeout. I like thai food, there’s a nice place not far from here. Or, I have stuff to make sandwiches, if you’d prefer– what?”

I was smiling at the way my bag would sway around as he moved quickly around his small table to reach the fridge, looking slightly frazzled. “Nothing.”

He smiled, too. “Or!” Excitedly, he walked over to the microwave and opened it, removing a small plate. “Ta-da!”

I approached, realizing he was holding a plate of the entrées from the wedding. “You stole the entrées?!” I laughed.

“I asked! Politely asked if I could have some of the leftovers. You were right, they were delicious.”

We laughed. “Scandalous!” I said, grabbing one and moving to the sofas. “I’m not that hungry, actually, but thanks.”

I sat on the larger sofa, realizing the room also had a small, marble-top coffee table on top of a Persian rug and a corner bookcase with picture frames. I got up to look at his books, realizing it was a mixture of books, CDs and DVDs, even some vinyls. My eyes were first caught by Jurassic Park, by Michael Crichton, 1984, by George Orwell and Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley. He also had Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury, Catch 22, by Joseph Heller, and The Complete Calvin and Hobbes collection, which made me smile. I pulled out an orange spine -- The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, Mark Manson -- and he moved behind me, the only time I heard him since walking over.

"That was a gift." He explained, in a justification tone.

I smiled back at him, returning the book to its place and noticing a white one with large black letters next to it, Why I'm No Longer Talking to White People About Race, by Reni Eddo-Lodge, which had a summary that regarded it as 'the essential handbook for anyone who wants to understand race relations in Britain today.' I returned it to its place, smiling.

“So you like fantasy.” I concluded, when I found The Hobbit and at least two Harry Potters.

“More like sci-fi.” He replied. “I like The Hobbit, and I made an exception for Harry Potter, which is iconic.”

“I liked the movies.”

“You haven’t read the books?”

“Could never really get into it.” I shrugged.

He closed the distance between us, my bag still on his shoulders, and stared at me from up close, seriously.

“You didn’t like Harry Potter?!”

“What I said was I couldn’t get into it.” I repeated, fighting a grin.

“That’s what people say when they tried something and didn’t like it.”

“Well–” I reflected on the option. “You don’t have any evidence that’s an universal truth. Surely not that that’s how I meant it.”

“Okay, counselor,” he sighed, impatiently. A grin made its way into my lips. “Did you or did you not like reading Harry Potter?!”

“I believe I have a right against self-incrimination in Britain, I certainly do as a Savoy citizen, so I will be evoking that right at this moment.”

He took in a long breath, running a hand through his hair, “Wow.” He sighed, making me laugh. “Just… wow. I am… outraged. As a British man, as a human being–”

“Okay, calm down.” I laughed.

“Harry Potter is incredible!”

“It was just… really childish for me.”

“The first book was written for children! The tone changes as the books go along!”

“Yes, there’s like ten of them. It’s a lot.”

“Seven, and you went to Harvard! You can handle seven children’s books!” My bag fell off his shoulder at his exasperated arm movements, but he was quick to grab it by the handle before it hit the floor.

“And why are you still carrying that?”

“I just…” He shrugged, walking over to the armchair to put my bag there. “I imagine you’ll need it.”

He looked back at me, pulling his long sleeves up past his elbows.

“I--I imagine your protection detail will be ‘round shortly to collect you.”

I chuckled, nervously. “What–? Why? I told you, it’s just me tonight.”

“Yes, and you’re the next in line to the throne of a country. I can’t go anywhere without security, and I know my brother has at least two at all times, so I’m assuming you have at least one person looking for you out there by now.”

There was an awkward silence as I shifted on my feet, hands still in my coat pockets, mouth agape, searching for what to say. He didn’t look upset, and it wasn’t like I’d just committed a crime by omitting what happened, but it still felt as if I had done something incredibly wrong, and the more I looked at him, the more uncomfortable the thought of continuing to lie was.

“It’s–It’s… It’s not like they’ll rush in here screaming that you kidnapped me or something.” I said, nervously forcing a giggle at the thought. “I don’t even know if they’ve noticed I’ve gone yet.”

“Ah.” He nodded, slowly, sitting down on the larger sofa. “So you ran away when they weren’t looking.”

“They were asleep.” I corrected, feeling my whole body warm in embarrassment. “And I would object to the word ‘ran’, I very calmly walked off the train when it stopped in London. It’s not my fault they didn’t notice.”

“They were asleep?!” He asked, his voice going higher than I’d heard before.

“It’s a long journey… Especially from Northern England.”

“Well, it’s their job! That’s… that’s so unbelievably unsafe!”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I raised my hands, in a placating gesture. “No harm done.”

“Well, you couldn’t have known that, could you?!” He asked, eyes widened. “But they sure should have, it’s their job! What if someone walked into the train and pointed a gun at you and forced you to leave?”

“What– I’m– I don’t even–” I sighed, frustrated. “Harry, I’m sorry, okay? Do you–? Would you like me to leave? I can get a hotel–”

“No!” He got to his feet. “I just–” He sighed. “I know how important security is, and… you… you’re a bigger target now, aren’t you? Your security profile must have changed since… you know.”

“I don’t.” I admitted. “They don’t really tell me much these days.”

I walked over, took off my coat, and sat down on the sofa. “Really, Harry, if this is a lot, I can get a place to stay, it’s no trouble.”

He walked over and sat next to me, laying his head back to rest atop the back of the sofa. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Relieved beyond understanding, I started to relax. So I sat back and laid my head next to his.

“So you didn’t miss the train.” He said, and seeing as it wasn't a question, I thought it would be best not to incriminate myself again.

“Marie? Did you?”

I looked at the ceiling. “Technically, I did. But I missed it because I got off.”

He let out a quiet, nasalized chuckle. “Why?”

I heaved a long sigh, and turned to look at him. “I don’t know… I just… I was in the train. And I couldn’t stop thinking about things. And I wanted to. And then we stopped in London. And I grabbed my bag and went to the bathroom, just to walk a little, to distract myself. But then I saw the doors opened. And my protection officers were asleep, so they didn’t even see me get up, so one second I was just fantasizing about how I could just… walk off, and the next I just… did.”

“I still think your security is incredibly irresponsible in this scenario.” He said, on a low tone, in which a hint of anger was only just noticeable.

“They have a right to sleep if we’re on a moving train.” I protested.

“What were you thinking about?” He asked.

“I just… I don’t know, okay? I just… The door was open and there was this colder breeze coming in, and I just… I just wanted to feel more of it. I don’t really understand it, either.”

“I actually mean… What were you thinking during the journey? That you said you didn’t want to think of anymore?”

“…Oh.” I looked back at the ceiling, biting my lower lip. “Everything, I guess. I just…”

I thought back to the train ride, the sound of the tracks, the dimmed lights as everyone seemed to either be asleep or blissfully entertained by their phones. To my heart, full of questions and… anger. I couldn’t tell him half of it.

“I just… I can’t–” I felt my voice break slightly as a knot found its way into my throat. “I can’t be in Savoy right now. I just… I don’t even– Sometimes it just feels like… Like–” I sat up, clearing my throat and turning to look at him, folding one leg to sit on top of it, facing him.

He’d opened his house to me out of nowhere. I knew how chaotic this must look. He deserved some explanation.

“It’s like they’re all playing a game and I’m the only one who wasn’t told the rules, but I’m still… part of it, you know? I’m the… I’m the game.” I said. “And I’m just… so tired of it.”

He was quiet, brows furrowed. He sighed… and then nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll… I’ll go give security a call, and tell them if someone comes asking for you to say they haven’t seen you.”

My mouth opened, in astonishment, but I didn’t know what to say.

“And you… what do you want to do? Shower? Movie? Pizza? Sleep?”

I was still astonished, but I started to smile now. “A shower would be nice, I guess.”

“Great, let me show you to the bathroom and I’ll get you a towel.”

He got up, quickly grabbed my bag and smiled when he asked me to follow him. The guest bathroom was just around the corner from the living room, beyond the narrow, carpeted staircase up.

“This is the guest bath. You can use the one in my room, though, it’s better water pressure and you’ll be closer to the guest room.”

Upstairs, there was just a small hallway with three doors, one of which was a closet where he got me two towels. The one at the other end was his room.

The bed was made, but looked like it had been slept in recently. Another flat screen TV was mounted on the wall in front of it, with a paused Netflix movie displayed.

“Do you have pajamas, or–?.” He asked as he left my bag on the bathroom floor. “I can find you some of my clothes?”

I had a clean set of pajamas I’d brought to stay in the hotel overnight, but for some reason I smiled, sheepishly, and said, “That’d be great, thanks.”

“Sweatpants good? I’ll leave them in the bed. You can change here, I’ll wait downstairs.”

“Okay.” I smiled.

Inside, I got out of my travel clothes, brushed my hair down slowly, taking deep breaths, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. When I was done, I put my hair up in a tight bun, and finally looked at myself, but I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re ridiculous.” I told mirror-Maggie.

As I showered, I tried to better answer the questions he had asked. I’d been thinking of Christopher, of his family ring, of why he would have decided to propose so soon after we got back together. I thought of why my father would say yes without consulting me. Of why my father would continually make decisions about my life without consulting me.

When I turned off the shower, I knew a couple of things for sure: I didn’t plan to run away. I just wanted to go to the bathroom on the train, to distract myself from my own thoughts. When I saw the door and realized that I could leave without my security seeing, all I wanted was to run. To feel… free. To be somewhere I wasn’t expected to give people the nice and polite answers they expected. For some reason, my heart decided this was that place. But this freedom also brought me guilt. What did that say for my relationship?

I wrapped myself in the towel and opened the bathroom door to find a pile of clothes in his bed. I brought them inside and got changed into a much too large for me black sweatpants and dark green shirt. Luckily – or maybe Harry had predicted this – the pants had drawstrings, so I could adjust them to my waist. I folded the bottom as best as I could.

When I did, my eyes fell on a bottle on the lower shelf of his cabinet. It was L’Occitane Cedrat Spray Deodorant. The name was familiar. I got up and realized there was another bottle on the shower caddie with the name – this one a shower gel. So I reached for the deodorant and sprayed a little of it in the air.

The smell almost knocked me to my feet. It was the smell Harry always had, the smell I remembered from London. The smell that brought me right back to an otherwise boring State Dinner, on a red dress, dancing barefoot in a room in Buckingham Palace where we weren’t supposed to be, his face leaning ever so much closer to mine, chills going down my spine, warming up my skin, getting on my tiptoes hoping to close the distance… before we were interrupted by my protection officer Joyce telling us it was time to go.

The smell took me back to flirty, happy texts planning a date. Running after Lourdes after she stole my phone. Waiting for a reply when Auguste and Montennon walked by with death on their faces… before everything changed.

I shook my head. I couldn’t add more things to the archive of stuff I had to think about.

Down the stairs, I found him in the kitchen. He bit down a grin when he saw me in his clothes. “Well, you look…”

“Ridiculous.” I smiled. “It’s a bit big.”

“No! You look cute.” He said, making me blush. “Security has been informed, by the way.”

“Right.” I sighed. “Thank you so much, Harry. I don’t think I said that yet.” He avoided my eyes, shrugging. “It’s not a problem. You’re always welcome here.”

“I know it’s... Weird… and I didn’t mean to interrupt your night.” I added. “I saw the TV on in your room.”

“Oh, I was just watching a movie. The new Transformers.” He told me. “It’s… not great. But in a good way? Does that make sense?” I smiled. “Kind of, yeah.” “Wanna watch it with me?” He asked. “I’d practically just started it. And it’s early-ish, still.”

“Sure.”

“Awesome.” He clapped his hands together and found a packet of popcorn in the kitchen cabinet.

A little while later, he handed me a bowl and a salt shaker. “Madame.”

I salted the popcorn as he walked around, grabbing napkins and a bag of M&M’s from a cabinet. “Chocolate or peanuts?” He asked. “And bear in mind, there is a right answer.”

“Dealer’s choice.” I returned.

“Coward.” He half-coughed, half-muttered, making me chuckle. “I have coke, orange juice, and beer.”

“Coke.”

“Right answer.” He nodded, approvingly, before turning to me with a slightly more serious expression. “I have… further questions.”

I pulled a chair and sat down, pushing the popcorn away. “Okay.”

“So… who knows– Did you tell Christop–” He sighed. “How many people know you’re here?”

I did the math in my head. “Five, or six, maybe?”

“Plus me and the security officers we walked by?”

“No, I– I mean you and the security officers.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“And the cab driver, but I don’t think he knew who I was.” He was quiet for a while, biting his lower lip. “Any other questions?”

He sighed. “Shouldn’t you tell someone?” At the way my face responded, he continued, quickly pulling up a chair and sitting next to me. “I mean, just that you’re okay, at least. They’ll think you were kidnapped!”

“If I turn on my phone they can track me.” I confessed. “All our phones are tracked by security headquarters.”

“Don’t you have a chip?” He asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

“Those tracking chips that go into your skin?” I asked, “No. The idea gets floated around every couple of years, but my siblings and I always hated it. And my mother thinks it’s too weird.” He nodded. “Do you have one?”

He smiled widely, teeth closed, and pointed at the right side of his jaw. “Just under this tooth here… But don’t tell anyone.”

I laughed. “Right, lesson one of anti-terrorism training. Your teachers would be very disappointed in you.”

He groaned, grinning. “Don’t remind me. Those guys are impressive, but they’re terrifying.”

“Do you ever get refresher training?”

“I think my last one was after my brother’s wedding, due to ‘increased media attention’.” He quoted, annoyed.

“Yeah, they made us take a refresher when Lourdes was born. It was awful.”

“Weren’t you, like, ten?!”

“Yes!” I confirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “That’s what made it awful!”

We chuckled, together.

He scratched his beard, looking at the ceiling. “God, we live weird lives.”

The TV in his room was bigger, so we took the popcorn, the cokes and the chocolate M&M’s – his favorite – upstairs where he started the movie from the beginning.

Admittedly, I didn’t pay as much attention as I should have, but I understood enough of it to know he was right: it wasn’t great. Great was the popcorn, the ice cold coke, and the chocolate M&M’s.

Eventually, though, my back started to hurt, so I slid down to lay on his pillows instead of sitting against the headboard, and my eyelids grew heavy, and the sound of explosions grew dimmer as I fell asleep. I shook myself awake a few minutes later, apologizing, but he only smiled and said, “It’s okay”, as he hesitated slightly, before reaching over and resting his hand by my head, brushing my hair so lightly I was asleep again in seconds.

When I woke up, the room was darker than before, the movie was over and the TV now displayed the long list of credits on a dark screen to a slow instrumental track. Harry nowhere to be found.

I heard steps from the hallway, and closed my eyes instinctively, just as I heard him come in. Slowly, I felt a warm blanket cover me, just at this moment realizing how chilly I had been a second before. I breathed in deeply, realizing how much his pillow smelled like him, and settled in to place to sleep again before I heard him step away. Opening my eyes, I realized he was leaving.

“Harry?”

He stopped at the door, and looked back. “Hey.” He whispered. “It’s okay, you go back to sleep. I’ll take the other room.”

“You should sleep in your own bed.” I said, forcing myself to sit up.

“It’s fine, Marie.” He smiled, approaching to gently tuck me back in, pulling the blanket up to my chest. “I promise, just go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He was almost leaving again, but my heart couldn’t take it.

“Harry?” I called, whispery, holding on tightly to two fistfulls of the blanket to stop from reaching out to hold his hand.

“Yes?”

I thought of his girlfriend, of my boyfriend, of the imaginary crown looming over my head, and yet, I couldn’t stop my lips from uttering, “Stay.”

He stared at me for one, two, three seconds before getting up. He walked around the bed and laid down, fluffing his pillows slightly as I stretched the blanket out to him.

We laid in silence, his warmth reaching over to me under the covers – or maybe my skin was just warmer than usual. I flipped over to lay on my stomach, hugging the pillow under me. When I did, my fingers hit something that felt like a needle. Carefully feeling it out, I realized it was a bobby pin. ‘This must be the side his girlfriend sleeps in when she’s over’, I thought, feeling suddenly sick to my stomach.

Turning to look at him, I breathed:

“Truth or dare?”

I heard his body move in the dark, and felt his knee brush against my leg as he turned to lay on his side, facing me.

“Truth.”

“Okay…” I held out the bobbi pin from under his pillow, pointing it at him. “Now, be honest… Do you curl your hair to sleep?”

His head raised from the pillow to look at what I was showing him, confused. “What–? Oh.” He smiled as I chuckled. “That’s–ha-ha, hilarious.”

He picked the bobby pin, and turned around to place it carefully in the bedside table next to him.

“Or does that belong to a lady-friend?”

He laughed. “A lady-friend?!”

“You never explained if you and Cressida broke up or not, so I wouldn’t want to speculate.”

“No, of course.” His tone was a mixture of sarcastic and teasing. “You’re just being respectful.”

There was a nice, quiet silence before I whispered, “You never answered the question.”

We laughed again. “No, Marie-Margueritte, I do not curl my hair before bed.”

“So how, pray tell, do you explain the evidence?”

“Objection, your honor,” he said, and I could still hear the giggle in his voice, “No follow-up questions, remember?”

I sighed, “Oh, right, that bullshit rule.”

“Enough stalling. Truth or dare?”

I smiled, sighing. “Truth.”

“…Do you think Clara could have done better than John? Be honest.”

I laughed. “You’re terrible.”

“Come on, we’re all thinking it.”

“Who’s ‘we’ in this scenario?”

“Every guest at their wedding.”

“You’re a terrible friend.” I giggled.

“Hey, I didn’t say that to him! I’m saying it to you, in confidence.” He justified, “And I can’t help but notice you’re avoiding the question.”

“Alright, fine. Admittedly, yes, she has dated guys I think were objectively better looking in a traditional way. But that’s not everything!”

“No!” He said, in an exaggerated way. “Of course not… that’s why your boyfriend looks like that.”

“What do you mean with ‘like that’?” I laughed.

“Oh, you know… the big, moussed up hair, the fancy suit, be honest, does he wear makeup?”

“Oh, my god!” I laughed. “You’re the worst. And you already asked your question. So, truth or dare?”

He sighed. “Truth.”

I considered for a long time what to ask. Long enough that he called out, “Marie?”

“I’m thinking.”

“Oh.”

Gulping, I tried to make the question sound as casual and playful as possible. “Who’s the mysterious owner of the bobby pin?”

“…oh.”

He was silent.

“Go on.” I laughed, nervously. “You must answer truthfully.”

“I–” He sighed. “It’s… It’s you.”

“I–” I startled. “What?”

He sighed, again, deeper now. “That day, my last day in Savoy. On the stairs. You were trying to remove your hat… I helped. I tried to give them back to you, but you– were distracted, I guess.”

“Oh…”

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t.” I turned around, laying in my side, facing him. “Harry, I’m the one who’s sorry… that day I was–I was acting completely insane.”

“Don’t apologize.” He asked. “You were going through so much–”

“Yes, but that doesn’t excuse hurting someone–”

“You didn’t hurt me.” He reached out, holding my hand in the space between us.

“I mean–”

“I know what you mean.” He assured me.

Breathless, I closed my fingers on his hold. I couldn’t know what he was thinking of, but I was thinking of the kiss. Or, more accurately, the almost-kiss. I could still feel his neck on my lips, his smell, right there on his pillow, had lived in my mind for the past five months. That‘s what I was apologizing for, but couldn’t say. I couldn’t speak of it. Speaking of it could lead to questions I had also been avoiding for five months like my life depended on it.

“Truth or dare?” He asked, without letting go of my hand.

Breathing in, deeply, and knowing I still wanted to talk about it, but it may not be the right time, I said, “Truth.”

Quietly, I felt his fingers brush mine, slowly.

“Why did you ask about my ex?” He asked, whispery, barely audible.

“…I…” I gulped. “I was curious… I guess– I guess it feels… sad? That we lost touch. I wanted to know what– you know, what you’ve been up to.”

He was quiet. I ventured a look past our hands, to his face, where I could almost see a smile on his lips.

His finger slowly traced mine. His next question came even lower than the first, as if scared to make it even a little bit more real than it had to be. “Were you jealous?”

I felt my heart jump on my chest. His soft touch on my hand, the guilty knot of anxiety in my stomach to be laying in bed with him, as platonically as it was… it all made it impossible to lie.

But I was a lawyer.

“No follow up questions, remember?”

A silent second. And then I heard his nasalized chuckle. “Wow…”

“Your rules.” I shrugged, painfully pulling my hand from his while I still could, and turning to the other side. “Goodnight, Harry.”

He let out another low, appreciative chuckle. “Goodnight, Mary.”

I fell asleep smiling as the name echoed in my thoughts: ‘Mary’.

--- ---- ---

[A/N: heeeeeeeeeeey. how ya’ll doin? I really wanna write something cute and funny here about the chapter or about how much I appreciate you reading but its 4 am on a monday and i spent all sunday working on overtime and i am exhausted so... just know I appreciate you A LOT seriously thank you so much for reading!!! let me know what you think???????? the end of this chapter made me smile when i wrote it and the next chapter made me cry so you have that to look forward to. THANKS BYEEE]

#Princeharryff #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #princeharryfanfiction #Princeharryfanfic #prince harry #brf #modern royalty au #modern royalty fanfic #fanfiction #OPITCphff #chapters

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pynkhues · 4 years

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Why does no one ever hold rio accountable for shooting dean? Like everyone hates Beth but nobody ever talks about rio almost killing Dean the father of her kids. Doing the same thing that everyone hated Beth for. Taking away rio form Marcus. Like rio almost took away Dean from his kids. I think it’s very hypocritical.

I think that there are quite a few things to unpack in that question, anon, and some of it I think is genuinely based on the way the story has played out, and the arcs of certain characters and plots, and how the chips ultimately fell with some of the themes and messaging. I also think personally though that some of it boils down to how some people within the audience feel about Rio, and some selective reading on his character and his dynamic with Beth overall.

So let’s explore that!

Prelude to a Bullet Wound

At the foundation of your ask is a pretty specific question I think about how the story depicts consequences, who it holds to account, and who is deserving or undeserving of those consequences overall. Even more specifically – although please correct me if I’m wrong! – is a question about how those consequences are dealt in the Dean x Beth x Rio dynamic.

And that’s actually a really tricky question, because I think a lot of the time we like to compare Beth and Dean’s relationship with Beth and Rio’s with the expectation that that comparison can ultimately be presented as a sort of check-list of does and does-not, which actually does the complexity of both relationships a disservice.

From history to dynamic to context to personalities to attraction, it’s all so fundamentally different when you’re talking about these two relationships, that when you start to talk about the betrayals within both of them (of which there are many in each), they’re actually pretty incomparable.

So this brings me to my first point.

Consequences, Crime and Punishment

I think one of the big misreads of this series from audiences is that Dean hasn’t been punished for what he’s done to Beth over the course of the show.

Because he actually has! Dean has been shot by Rio, like you said. He was briefly kicked out of the house, he was in a car accident, he was ousted from his own company and then he lost that company altogether, he was mugged and humiliated after trying to order a hitman, he watched his wife slip further and further away from him, had to start from the bottom in a new business, was sexually harassed by his boss then lost opportunities, and is now essentially being used as a patsy in a new criminal enterprise.

The thing is, Beth has never really been the one to punish him. She’s certainly made choices and done things that have humiliated him, but none of it was really an act to deliberately hurt him, more she made choices to be selfish in their relationship in a way she never had been (i.e. taking over Boland Motors, sleeping with Rio), but I’ll come back to that in a moment.

The fact that the story has punished Dean but Beth hasn’t is a really important distinction to make, and I think it’s crucial in unpacking both Beth and Dean, and Beth and Rio’s dynamic, as well as understanding some of the audiences hostility towards Dean’s storyline and why the audience doesn’t hold Rio accountable for shooting Dean in the first place.

It’s further underpinned, I think, by the fact that the show has rewarded Dean narratively with Beth’s forgiveness three times over (the first time being at the end of season 1 before the cancer lie was revealed, the second being the moment before Amber revealed Dean had cheated on her more than once in 2.05, and the third was with Beth’s seeming acceptance of Dean kissing Gayle [although I do think that would’ve come back up had we gotten all of s3]), and then placated him with her pity, fatigue, and the lies she’s told to keep him onside and out of her way.

It is exhausting. Dean is exhausting. The Boland marriage limping on season after season is exhausting. It’s also, I think, painfully realistic for a couple like Dean and Beth, who married at a formative age, and who’s foundation was built on Beth’s subservience, her desperate need for security and stability, and her willingness to dim her own light to brighten his.

A quick personal aside:

When my parents were in the dying days of their 30+ years relationship, their marriage counsellor told them that a relationship’s dynamic is really set within the first year of that relationship. You can change it after that, but it requires a lot of work and a deliberate effort to change that dynamic on many, many levels, and for many couples, it is too much work. It certainly was for my parents.

If you think about Beth and Dean in that context, it means that Beth’s energy with Dean is still somewhat stuck within a shell of being a neglected, private teenage girl trying to look after her sister and Dean being the son of a successful businessman, entitled with the knowledge he’d inherit that successful business one day.

They are not those people anymore, and they both know it, but their relationship dynamic does play out that way. Dean will never see her as more than his to take care of, and Beth will forever fight the instinct to see Dean as the provider she never had growing up – something the show has addressed explicitly in many ways.

And the thing is, that’s not Beth and Rio’s relationship at all.

The foundations that they have built this thing between them on are both shakier and stronger, built on Beth’s need to survive in the moment and thrive in the future, and Rio seeing not the neglected teenage girl that Dean saw, but a fierce woman prepared to drag him for having the audacity to try and kill her in her own home.

Beth’s relationship with Dean is, in many ways, an essential component of Beth and Rio’s dynamic, simply because Beth won’t let Rio ever treat her the way Dean has and does. Beth holds Rio accountable in a way she doesn’t Dean (although very interestingly to me, she has at points looked to him to provide for her in the same way she’s looked at Dean), and it means she punishes Rio in a way she doesn’t punish Dean. She does this in no small part because Rio holds her accountable and punishes her in ways Dean doesn’t as well, simply because he expects so much more from her.

This is probably best encapsulated in 1.06, where Rio ups her drop (ergo, her degree of responsibility in the crime world) while Dean assumes she’s a victim, but it’s touched on routinely across the seasons.

Beth and Rio ultimately respect each other. Even when they’re deliberately undermining each other (usually Beth, haha) or deliberately condescending and patronising each other (usually Rio, haha), the basis of their relationship has been built on Beth showing promise, and Rio taking a chance, and grown into a complicated dynamic of control and autonomy, desire and fulfilment, want and approval, possession and abandonment, all playing out as some twisting, sexually charged game which, as I’ve said before, they both simultaneously want to win, and don’t want to play at all.

All of this means that where Beth and Dean are within a dynamic of placation and diminishment, Beth and Rio are constantly going toe-to-toe with each other either side of some line they’ve imagined up. It means they do hold each other accountable, that they ensure the other feels the consequences of their actions, that they never release their hold on the other (even if sometimes it looks like they do).

As a result though too, it does mean that that line can be crossed, and when it is, it’s almost always in a big, big way.

Uhhh, Sophie, this is a lot of meditating on Beth and Dean and Beth and Rio’s relationship for a question that was about why no one cares about Rio shooting Dean, but hates Beth for shooting Rio

Right! It is! But I also think it’s important in understanding why both acts had such different responses from audiences, and that namely boils down to the fact that I think most people saw, consciously or subconsciously, the act of Rio shooting Dean as a consequence of Dean’s behaviour, not of Beth’s, and therefore a punishment for Dean’s behaviour in the narrative overall, not a punishment of Beth.

Dean getting shot was a story-level punishment of Dean that felt earned.

It was Rio handling what Beth couldn’t, and it is satisfying to watch, particularly in the context of later seasons, because it does feel like a marked act of narrative accountability.

It’s just unfortunate that it resulted in so much of the fandom ignoring the fact that it was an incredibly harsh punishment to Beth, something that we’ve been dealing with ever since because it clearly made Beth feel like she couldn’t leave him during his treatment, and by the end of that treatment she had, once again, softened.

On the other hand, Rio getting shot by Beth was both a story-level and a character-level punishment that was ultimately unearned on either of those levels.

It’s not that it didn’t make sense in terms of the escalating push-pull dynamic that is so central to Beth and Rio’s relationship and chemistry, but that there wasn’t enough build-up for it – and Rio hadn’t done enough to deserve it – which in turn made the punishment not fit the crime (which is to say nothing of the racist optics of it). It was a damning act that, quite simply, didn’t work in the context of season 2 overall, and as opposed to criticising the writing choice, some fans chose to turn that into a hatred of Beth’s character.

A brief aside

I do always find it interesting that many of these same fans refuse to confront the fact that Beth and the girls have had relentless punishment at the hands of others – particularly Rio – since this show started, but that feels like a whole other post.

Smoke and mirrors

These two acts are interesting to look at in the context of these respective dynamics, but they’re actually not parallel events. In that sense, I actually find the act of Beth insinuating herself into Rhea and Marcus’ life a much more comparable act to Rio shooting Dean than Beth shooting Rio was.

They were different types of violence – a psychological one over a physical one – sure, but had the same underpinning themes of home invasion, involving each other’s families in the fucked-up dynamic between them, and revealing a degree of Beth and Rio’s intimacy to the other’s (ex)partner (Rio through touching Beth in front of Dean, Beth through the pregnancy lie meaning Rhea knew Beth and Rio had slept together). It also puts them both as instigators on similar playing fields. They were, after all, actions that both Beth and Rio sought out doing.

It makes for a really interesting parallel that I wish we all talked about more!

Beth shooting Rio on the other hand was a manifestation of a set-up and a betrayal, a kidnapping gone wrong, an effort to strongarm Beth into killing an FBI agent, and yeah. Not my favourite plot choice on the show, haha, so I absolutely understand why it isn’t others’ too.

A final note

Look, all story analysis aside – at the end of the day, a portion of the fandom woobifies Rio and loathes Dean too, which no doubt plays a large part in some people’s response to these two acts. You only need to look at the volume of Rio x Reader or Rio x OC fics on here and ao3 to see that there’s a big chunk of the fandom out there who projects other fantasies onto his character, which is, of course, entirely fine! It’s just a shame some of them choose to let that influence the way they view canon and publicly treat other characters on the show too.

#this is a long post folks #beth x dean #beth x rio #beth boland #rio #rhea #staying's worse than leaving #gg 2.01 #gg 2.13 #gg 3.01 #gg 3.02 #power plays #interior lives #checks and balances #sunday answers #Anonymous

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magicofthepen · 4 years

Text

Gallifrey Relisten: Lies

In the chaos of.....all of November....totally forgot I meant to relisten to this episode sooner! Which is odd because Series 2 is definitely one of the high points of Gallifrey for me (apparently listening to everything slowly collapse into the civil war is super engaging and interesting? idk Series 2 just does a lot of solid character work and storytelling and good narrative progression to the “ahhh everything is very bad” finale...and I’m not sure how to feel about this, given *gestures at the world these days*). But anyways, now for some thoughts on the series opener:

Fun fact: From the TV show alone, Romana I was my favorite. (This had something to do with her having more character growth in season 16 than season 17, since her early days on the TARDIS involve the “wait my academic success does not necessarily translate to the real world” realization and learning about worlds and people different from her own and growing from High-Achieving Student to Adventurer in her own right. Also I loved the grudgingly-working-together to actual-friends arc with her and the Doctor. I was a bit less interested in her character when she was just going around being a capable adventurer, although I did become invested in Romana II in her last episodes, as she quietly grapples with the issue of what she wants to do next in life and eventually chooses to go off on her own. Also to be fair, I appreciate the fun times of Season 17 a lot more now because Romana being happy and having a good time traveling around the universe? What a concept.)

All this to say: me on my first listen of Gallifrey was very excited about Romana I being in this episode. And even though it’s not quite as much of a !!!!! thing for me these days (the Gallifrey audios have long since solidified Romana II as my favorite), I do love the (sort of) multi-Romana interaction that happens in this one.

Brax essentially going “yeah the education system is supposed to be shitty and take an emotional toll on you” sir.

“I am not xenophobic” — Oh yeah, this scene is Narvin at his most unlikeable. “I’m not being bigoted, I’m just trying to protect Gallifrey, the fact that I assume that people who aren’t from here inherently can’t be trusted, and also go on about how they’re too loud and disruptive and don’t belong is definitely not a bigoted worldview nope.” Yikes. Very glad he’s going to see the error of his ways.

The Narvin and Darkel rant session does actually do a good job at explaining what’s been happening and establishing the primary conflict of the series while not feeling like it exists solely to be an info dump to catch up the listener. Like, it’s definitely a setup scene, but it is an interesting setup scene.

“But she is my President, and it’s my job to ensure that she gets what she wants and needs, efficiently and without question. Well, too many questions anyway.” Okay this moment and Darkel and Wynter’s conversation later about Narvin’s weakness (“Loyalty. An unswerving loyalty to his office and his precious CIA. And above all, loyalty to his president.” “He despises President Romana!” “Oh yes, of course. But it’s the position, not the person, he places that trust in.”) are really setting up some key Narvin Character Theses that we’re going to see play out this series (and also that the narrative is going to push in really interesting ways later on..... “position not the person”.....just you wait....)

Darkel and Narvin being indignant that Romana changed the law is just....hilarious in a kind of horrifying way? Oh no, the President worked with the legislative body to actually get a law passed. The horror.

“She has a temper. And a very long memory.” This is definitely about the CIA trying to overthrow her in Neverland but uhhh also it’s about Etra Prime and the Powers That Be on Gallifrey never making a serious effort to save her (at least from her perspective).

Yeah Darkel as antagonist is a bit abrupt (not that I particularly mind, she’s a good enough “love to hate” character that her not being set up as an antagonist from Series 1 doesn’t really bother me). But yeah, not sure what was going on behind the scenes, but it doesn’t seem like in Series 1 the plan was for her to be the primary Series 2-3 antagonist.

Darkel to Narvin: “You will let me know when you’ve decided.” Ooh yeah, this moment is quite a good setup of Narvin’s arc throughout this series — he has to decide where his loyalties truly lie.

Wynter is really interesting as far as character dynamics go, because he breaks the whole “Romana and Leela are the youngest people in the room” vibe — and it is just really interesting to see Romana interacting with this quite young Time Lord and specifically compare/contrasting it to how she interacts with young Time Lords in the later series when she’s older and a bit more emotionally mature and has more of the “mentor figure” vibes. (There isn’t really a conclusion to this thought, it’s more of a “huh, I’m thinking about this now” thing.)

“It’s been seven weeks, Andred. It’s hardly a lifetime.” Romana: please you have not been in a cell for that long, calm down.

“I thought you two were friends.” “A president of the High Council of Gallifrey cannot allow herself the luxury of friends.” Ahhhh, where it begins!! I’m extremely weak for the arc of Romana opening herself up to friendship and love, what of it.

Honestly, Andred’s politics have always been very confusing to me? And it probably doesn’t help that the show is all “he’s fully Andred now” but also “he lived as Torvald a long time and that’s still influencing him.” Like both of those things can be true, but it’s a bit unclear what Andred’s true priorities and motivations really are right then — and honestly, it just comes off like his primarily desire is to be useful to someone, and be granted some form of autonomy/power/respect in return (aka he doesn’t have any real clear principles that are motivating him). Also complaining about Romana opening Gallifrey up to aliens is such a bad look dude.

Romana to Andred: “I control your future. I control whether you have one.” Umm???? The foreshadowing?????

Andred, no. Andred, the free time pun was too much.

“I wish I had databanks. With a flick of a switch I could turn myself off, become unaware of all that has happened.” Leela ahhhhhhhhhh. (The desire to give Leela all the hugs and emotional support is very very high throughout these next couple seasons especially.....her mental health is in such a rough place ahhhh.)

Andred regenerated “nearly six months ago” and it’s been six and a half (or seven, depending on which character is speaking) weeks since A Blind Eye, which took place an unspecified amount of time after The Inquiry, which took place two weeks after Square One...(don’t mind me, just taking some notes on the timeline math...)

I believe a couple times in the Gallifrey audios, they reference the position of “Vice President,” which is very weird because that doesn’t seem to be a position that exists?? Chancellor is definitely seen as the #2 spot?? Idk what’s going on here.

“You are appreciated, highly regarded, and were I to lose you I would be...disappointed.” Romana, you started strong and then you got a bit emotionally repressed there.

“Torvald was a fool, but he was my fool.” .....I am not saying anything.....I will not be commenting on the Narvin and Andred scene......I just.......you know. There are some fics you cannot unread.

Romana does really trust Brax here, doesn’t she. And she really doesn’t trust easily post-Etra Prime, so this is a big deal — making it all the rougher when she (in the short term) finds out he meddled with her memories and (in the long term) has to deal with him doing things like temporarily betraying her for the greater good of protecting her while not explaining at all what’s really going on.

Okay, yes the whole pearl-clutching about Romana changing the laws is kinda silly and horrifying in a “how dysfunctional is your society if passing one (1) law is drastic change??” way, but also the flip side of this, aka “we thought these things were entrenched as norms in our society and would not change and then here comes along one president who’s trying to undo all of these things and threaten the whole system”.....y’all that hits differently now in the month November in the year 2020. In the Gallifrey audios the context is different — they are for sure overreacting to Romana’s very mild idea of “perhaps....we could change some things about society” but the way they talk about her political changes in the episode — feels a bit too close to home!

Romana’s voice right when she sees Leela....she missed her.....

Pandora being the “first female president” is a very weird and very unnecessary bit of misogyny? Ah yes, we must specify that this ancient president of Gallifrey who was wildly power-hungry and cruel and went too far and almost ruined everything Gallifrey had built was a woman?? Why was that bit of dialogue needed?? Tbh early Gallifrey does have a problem in general with characters played by women tending to be power-hungry....which is partly down to the fact that they have so so few women in the cast in general, it’s Romana, Leela, and Villains, mostly. (The lack of women in the supporting cast in early Gallifrey is going to be an ongoing complaint.)

“You should not be afraid of your feelings, K9.” / “Yes, thank you, if we can move on from the emotional support group session.” Pffffff

I do choose to ignore the implication that Romana returned to Gallifrey and became President because of the subconscious influence of Pandora/the Imperiatrix Imprimatur nudging her towards power. Tbh it’s simply not interesting to me to have such a pivotal character choice reduced to genetic/subconscious manipulation. Yes, Romana ended her TV run insisting she didn’t want to go back to Gallifrey (and even staying in another universe to avoid it), and yes, it creates this initial emotional dissonance suddenly jumping to stories where she’s President of Gallifrey. But I already did the headcanon work before I jumped into Big Finish to make it work for me, I didn’t need this weirdness.

Elaborating on this a bit more: There is something interesting to me about a person who left home and slowly ended up rejecting the narrow worldview she grew up with, cutting herself free from the place she was born — and then eventually choosing to return because she genuinely wanted to make that messed-up world better and believed she could. And it also creates a really interesting contrast with the Doctor: two Time Lords who came to realize that Gallifrey was pretty terrible actually, and one of them kept running away from it and rejecting Time Lord society, and the other came back and said maybe I can change things. Because both are understandable and complicated reactions to have to a messed-up home world, and there are different ways of trying to do good. And regardless of how her choices turned out, I always liked the idea that it was Romana’s own choice that brought her to Gallifrey again, and I don’t think Pandora needed to be shoehorned in to explain her actions.

Okay, I want to hear the follow up where Leela insists Romana tell the whole Key to Time story after hearing all of these random out of context bits and pieces.

Why does Brax admit to breaking the Laws of Time? The fact that he’s in contact with his past/future selves isn’t actually relevant to what he needs to tell Narvin? He literally could have just said that he hypnotized Romana, without mentioning that it was his future self who did it? (Also, it’s implied in this one that he pushes for Romana to use the mind wipe on Narvin because he wants the memory of that reveal erased, but somehow that’s the one thing that Narvin keeps because he uses that information against Brax later? Aka: how did Narvin remember that Brax told him this?)

And final thought: general internal monologue during this episode is just: Pandora arc Pandora arc Pandora arc here we go!! Because the Lies through Warfare run is really one of the more interesting bits of Gallifrey for me (Imperiatrix specifically ranks very high on my favorite episodes list), and I’m excited to be re-listening to/thinking about/hearing other people talk about these episodes!

Next Episode Reaction: Spirit

Previous Episode Reaction: A Blind Eye

#gallifrey audios #romana #leela #narvin #irving braxiatel #going to listen to the pod of rassilon episode on a long car ride tomorrow (well. today at this point) so very excited for that!#ramblings #emily listens to big finish #the relisten of rassilon

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omoi-no-hoka · 4 years

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Rural Life and Mental Health in Japan as a Gaijin

Heads up: This is a very long, personal post about mental health and the stresses of living in rural Japan as a foreigner. If it’s not what you’re looking for in this blog, please feel free not to read it. If you can’t tell by the gif above, this isn’t going to be a very positive post because I’m not in a very positive mood.

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It’s been just shy of five and a half years since I moved to Hokkaido, the northernmost island/prefecture in Japan. In many ways, it’s similar to the American Midwest, which is the region I’m originally from. It’s big on agriculture, it’s got lots of nature and rural areas, winters are long and nasty, and the people have a warmth that make up for the cold snow and ice outside. Heck, even a lot of the flora and fauna are the same.

I think of my current city as my “Japanese hometown” because it was where I stayed during my first trip to Japan and it’s where my hostparents from that time are. I love it here like I love my country bumpkin village of 2,800 back in the states.

But after a little over two years of living and working in this city, I think I need out. I am...tired of it in many ways.

特別扱い Tokubetsu Atsukai, “Special Treatment”

Prior to living in this city, I lived in Sapporo, which has a population of 2 million. There, no one batted an eye at a foreigner walking the streets. A lot of them were surprised that i could use Japanese, but a good few people were used to gaijin that could use nihongo and read kanji.

But in my current city, I have experienced all of the following things, some of which on a daily basis.

DISCLAIMER: I have also had a LOT of very positive experiences with the people of this city. Most of my experiences have been positive or neutral, but a good 40% have been as described below.

Everywhere I go, I am openly stared at. Gawked at, at times. (I am your standard-looking, standard-dressed, slightly overweight white girl. No visible tattoos, piercings, vibrant hair color, or otherwise attention-grabbing aspects about me other than the fact that i am clearly not Japanese.)

I am often spoken to like I am mentally disabled, or if I am with a Japanese person, they will refuse to speak to me and instead speak to my Japanese companion.

I have entered restaurants on my own and had waitstaff make a big “X” with their arms and say “No English” immediately upon seeing my non-Japanese face.

I have had waiting taxi drivers drive off instead of allow a troublesome foreigner into their car.

I have sat down alone at a bar and had the Japanese people beside me openly gossip about me with the assumption that I could not understand them.

When searching for apartments when I moved to this city, I was denied 75% of my picks because they have a “no gaijin” rule. Despite the fact that I can speak and read, that I have a good job and valid visa, and that I have already lived here 3 years without a single late rent payment or complaint against me.

I have built up casual relationships with employees at grocery stores, etc. I frequent, and they have asked me for my contact info because, in their own words, “I’ve always wanted a gaijin for a friend!” In Japan, every girl wants a token gaijin friend instead of a token gay friend.

I have gone on dates with Japanese men who clearly just wanted a white girl to hang on their arm like a piece of swag and insist on taking me to a pasta place because “You must prefer western food to Japanese food” or insisting that I dye my hair blonder to look more foreign.

I am just...so very tired of this 特別扱い (special treatment).

I don’t want to call it 差別 (prejudice) because, the majority of the time, Japanese people think they are doing me a kindness by speaking slowly and simply, or by telling me as soon as possible that they cannot help me in English, etc. While a couple of the above experiences are straight up racism (I’m looking at you, asshole taxi drivers and landlords), most of them are a misguided form of “omotenashi,” a.k.a. Japanese hospitality.

So I try very hard not to let it get to me, because I know that they don’t wish ill upon me. But I’ve worked so goddamn hard to learn this language and speak it well, and it is so frustrating for the people around me to assume that I can’t do what has been my freaking life goal. Or having people assume I can’t understand slightly difficult words and dumb down their language (Even colleagues I’ve worked with for two years now!). In the middle of a conversation they’ll say things like, “It’s hard to deal with that level of animosity--oh wait, omoi-no-hoka-san, sorry, ‘animosity’ means ‘dislike.’”

They mean it in a helpful way, but it just comes across as very condescending and I end up thinking, Oh, so they think my Japanese proficiency is so low i can’t understand that word. Which sends me into doubt over whether my language skills are actually that deficient, or whether I am speaking in a way that makes myself look at bad at Japanese.

The Effects of 特別扱い (Special Treatment)

It’s been gradual, but over the past two years, I have found myself withdrawing from the outside world. I got bad at replying to friend’s messages. I started making excuses to avoid meeting up and hanging out. I would buy all the groceries i needed to last me through the weekend on Friday after work and not emerge until Monday morning to go back to work. Even though I really love the outdoors and used to spend entire days just riding my bike along the river trails here.

...But in the past few months I’ve become unable to answer even close friends’ phone calls and messages. And I’ve even had a hard time phoning my parents, which is crazy because ever since I left home for uni I’ve called my mom on a daily basis. When I think about stepping outside of my apartment, no matter the reason or destination, I am gripped by a dread so strong I nearly throw up. I have gone a couple weekends without food because it would require me leaving my apartment to buy some, or paying for very expensive delivery which also means interacting with whoever is bringing me that food.

I’ve had a stressful summer and fall at work, and that undoubtedly has contributed to my current anxiety overload. But things have settled down at work for the past month now, and not only have I been given an award that only 2% of employees get globally, recently I have been in talks to take on what is very nearly a dream position for me within the company that is a BIG step up career-wise. I have great bosses who recognize my efforts, who listen to what I have to say, and do what they can to help when I tell them I’m in over my head.

But I have had several days where I have woken up, gotten ready for work, and just frozen at my apartment door, too sick at the thought of going outside. And yet, I can’t stand the thought of calling in sick because I feel chronic, self-imposed guilt when I take a day off, no matter the reason. So I call in to work and tell them I have a stomachache and will be in once it’s gone, (which isn’t an absolute lie), and then drag myself into work within a couple hours.

And once I enter the office, do the obligatory bow and apology for being late and causing inconveniences, the dread and anxiety vanish and I am fine until it is time for me to go outside to return home.

This makes me think that work is not a main stressor right now. It doesn’t matter if I’m going to the convenience store or the grocery store or work or anywhere. I think the constant being stared at everywhere I go has gradually accumulated to become a nasty form of social anxiety. I used to have panic attacks in middle school and high school due to home life, but since removing myself from that environment they’ve gone away. I’ve always been a socially-reserved person who shies away from the spotlight, and despite telling myself a thousand times, “Let them look at you--you’re just being you and they’re being them and that’s OKAY,” I just can’t brush it off. I have very, very seriously considered dyeing my hair from its natural brown to black in an effort to blend in, if only slightly. Which is laughable, but that’s just how much it bothers me to stand out.

But the event that really sounded the alarm for me was when my best friend of 10 years, a Japanese girl whom I met by chance my freshman year of uni, who was my roommate for 4 years of uni, who let me sleep on her living room floor here in Japan for 3 months until my work visa came through, who has been with me through thick and thin, sent me a message asking when she could drop off a souvenir for me and

I couldn’t bring myself to reply to her text.

That was when I very clearly knew that I was too deep in this funk to get myself out on my own, and I had to figure out how to get help.

Frankly, despite having struggled with panic attacks and anxiety in the past, I have never sought professional help. Until now, I never felt that my symptoms were so bad that they warranted medication. But the fact that i can’t contact my mother or my best friend, that I would rather not eat anything for two days instead of go outside, means that snorting essential oils and rubbing rose quartz against my temples or whatever isn’t going to be enough.

Mental Health Views in Japan

It’s not exactly a secret that the approach to mental health in Japan is “sweep it under the rug.” You do not talk about it. You may go to a doctor and receive medication, but you do not get counseling, because that involves talking about it. You do not tell your friends. You do not tell your family. You DEFINITELY do not tell your coworkers.

I saw my boss, T, fall into a very similar spiral to my own this summer. Stomach aches in the morning, coming in late, making excuses to get out of outings outside of work, not replying to messages, not sleeping well. And then one day he just vanished. Didn’t show up one Monday.

T wouldn’t respond to our messages so we had to contact his mother to get a hold of him. And once she had confirmed that she had spoken to him and scolded him for being “selfish” by skipping work, my coworkers were satisfied because, in their words, “Now that we know he’s still alive, we don’t have to worry.”

Honestly, that was one of the most fucked up reactions to any situation I have ever seen. I was shocked, because these coworkers truly cared for him, but their mutual reaction to this was to just...let him languish.

T announced to a select number of supervisors/colleagues that he had been diagnosed with general anxiety disorder and would be stepping down from his position. He said that he had been diagnosed years ago, but had not disclosed it because he knew that he would never be promoted if anyone knew.

And that’s one of the big reasons that no one wants to talk about their mental illness here. In Japan, having a mental illness is a shameful thing. It shows that you’re weak, that you can’t keep up with everyone else, that you are flawed in a way that will adversely affect those around you at one point or another.

But my company really is a great company and the people in charge are progressive. T has a lot of great skills and experience, and they didn’t want to let him go. So they told him that they would find someone to fill his current role, but once he had rested and gotten better, they wanted him to come back and do a position that he used to do, one that he really shined in and enjoyed. And that is where he’s at now, and he’s doing much better for it.

So, having seen all of this unfold mere months ago, I grappled with how much I should tell my employers. The talk of this new and big position in Tokyo was underway, yet I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle it unless I got better.

So I bit the bullet, and on the night that I couldn’t respond to my best friend’s text, I sent my boss a message, explaining my symptoms, how long they’d been going on, what I thought the causes were, and that I wanted to take the morning off to see a doctor about it sometime that week.

And I was really shocked by his reply.

This boss is the guy that filled T’s position, and i didn’t know him that well yet. As it turns out, he used to be a counselor before he joined this company. He told me that I could go to the doctor whenever I wanted, but that he also wanted to talk in person about this the next day.

The next day he called me into the conference room with one other manager, a guy I really trust and like. When T vanished, shit really hit the fan at the office and it was basically this manager and me keeping us afloat for the first couple weeks, so we’ve got a lot of camaraderie going. They asked me to talk more about what was going on, why I was feeling all this anxiety, etc.

And it was during this conversation that I saw the division between the traditional Japanese views of mental health and modern views of mental health.

When I explained to them both why I wanted to see a doctor and try medication, their reactions were mixed. My boss, the former counselor, said that if I thought it was best, trying out medication for a few weeks was a good idea.

The manager looked doubtful and said, “But do you really think that going to a doctor and getting pills from him will fix everything? If you’re diagnosed, what will your colleagues think? I thought you wanted that promotion.”

In that moment i felt intense fear and regret, as well as hurt. T had said that he had withheld his diagnosis for this very reason. A part of me had wanted to think it was paranoia on his part, but now I realized that he had been right to keep it a secret. This manager, whom I knew very well and trusted deeply, clearly was of the opinion that a diagnosis/medication = evidence of weakness.

So I ended up lying and telling them, “I’ll go to the doctor just to get some sleeping pills.” (I’ve been waking up every hour on the hour for a couple months now.) Sleeping pills aren’t frowned upon in Japan and the manager was pleased with this decision.

And after that manager left, I told my boss the truth, that i would be getting anti-anxiety meds as well because I really thought it was necessary, and that I would appreciate him not disclosing it unless he was required to, which he agreed to.

Seeing a Psychiatrist in Japan

So now i had to find a psychiatrist and make an appointment. A Google search provided me horrors. Below is an excerpt of a Google review of a certain mental health clinic in my city, and the record of the exchange between the doctor and reviewer (patient). I’m not going to translate it all because it’s long, but these are some highlights of the doctor’s words directly to the patient.

“You can’t sleep? I can’t sleep either. What, do you want some pills for it?”

“You can’t expect me to believe what a patient says.”

(After he made the patient cry) “You are being so difficult. Could you stop crying?”

He gives her medication, has silent nurses send her out to the waiting room where she continues to cry, and the doctor comes to the waiting room and says, “Could you hurry up and pay and leave?”

Having read this, I was filled with absolute fear. Maybe I was better off trying to fix this on my own after all.

But I kept searching, and I also learned that my city hall has a 心の相談窓口 (Kokoro no Soudan Madoguchi), “Mind Consultation.” You can call them to learn information about what sorts of mental health facilities/options are available in your area. A very kind lady there informed me that it takes about 2-3 months to get in to any psychiatrist in this city, most of them do not take new patients, and that counseling is almost non-existent. Unless I was a harm to myself or others, I would have to wait. However, there was one general hospital in the city that had one psychiatrist staffed. This hospital has no reservation system whatsoever (very common in Japan) and takes a set number of patients in the morning and evening. I could try my luck to get in and see her.

So that was what i did, and I was able to see her on the first morning I went! I think the Kokoro no Soudan Madoguchi lady made it sound harder to get into so I wouldn’t feel let down if it didn’t work out the first time I went.

Having read the horror story above, I had a lot of trepidation stepping into the exam room with her and two nurse secretaries. I had expected it to be a very clinical, dry exchange of symptoms and a sufficient prescription with a token お大事に。

And, more than anything, I had feared that she would say something like, “Maybe you should just go home to your own country where you wouldn’t stand out.”

But she asked me a wide range of questions, with none of them focusing on the fact that I was a gaijin: what my symptoms were, how long they’d been going on, what I had going on in my life, what work was like, past history of anxiety, etc., and she and the nurses all truly listened to what i had to say. It was clear that she cared about the underlying causes and me as a person.

She told me that it sounded like I was experiencing a buildup of stress and anxiety and that she wanted me to try a low dose of anti-anxiety meds and sleeping pills for a week and then come back for another discussion.

That was 3 weeks ago. I’ve since been in the process of working with her to find the right combination of medication. Fun fact: they prescribe you Rohypnol (roofies) for sleeping meds in Japan if they deem your insomnia is serious enough. So. That is interesting.

Where I Am Now

I am keeping my boss informed of my condition and he is still very supportive. He seems to have informed his bosses of my tribulations to some extent, because they have gone out of their way to check in on me and see how I’m doing, which is very kind of them. Of course, they also know that i went above and beyond the call of duty for several months in a row until recently, and they could simply be asking because of that. Either way, I am touched that they would think of me, as I am a lowly translator for a lesser project and they are quite a ways up on the corporate ladder.

I am still in talks about taking on a very exciting position in Tokyo HQ, despite one of those bosses likely being aware of my situation to some extent. I used to dread the thought of Tokyo because I am a country girl who needs to see green, but recently I’ve come to the tough decision that I need to leave my beloved Japanese hometown, just like i left my American one. I love them, but I do not belong in them. I have visited the Tokyo HQ quite a few times, and there are a ton of foreigners in the area so I don’t stand out at all. I think that as long as I can live reasonably close enough to a park, I can satisfy my needs for nature while lessening my social anxiety.

I am having good days and bad days where it is still hard for me to leave the house. But I am having more good days than bad now. And today I was finally able to send a text message back to my best friend. Which really doesn’t seem like a lot, but it is a lot to me. My friend is supportive and understanding, which means the world to me.

I’m getting back to being me. 💗

p.s.: The gif at the top of this is from the anime Mushishi, which I think illustrates various mental illnesses and their effects in a very metaphoric way.

#personal #mental health #stress #anxiety #social anxiety #expatlife #japan #life in japan #rural japan #mental health awareness #expat in japan #mental health recovery #mental health support in japan #love yourself #you can overcome this

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razorblade180 · 4 years

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Sunshower. 10

[2 of 2 parts]

*Disclaimer,mature themes* Enjoy

It wasn’t long before they reached the forest district and the trees her house was in. As usual she flipped the sign on the ground from down to up. If Sun was really about to spend the night then she might as well look cool getting up to the door she pulled him to the outer rim of the clearing and faced right.

Sun:What are you doing?

Ilia:Getting a little workout in. You’re about to see why our races are always so close.

She bent her knees and took a deep breath. Then she took off sprinting towards a tree. Sun watched her run along it sideways then jumping to the next tree; repeating the process again and again. Each transition to the next tree got her higher and higher as she was essentially going counter clockwise. He almost got dizzy just watching. Finally she was close enough to the mass of leaves and materials supporting her house. Ilia lunged towards a patch of leaves that were a slightly different color and her hands went through it. Sun had a feeling if she did that anywhere else then her performance would’ve ended horribly. Ilia pulled herself all the way up then poked her head back through to look at Sun. Funny, he was easier to look at when she was upside.

Ilia:I hope you were paying attention. Now it’s your turn.

Sun:I could just climb up the one nearest to the entrance. Oh, it even has grooves in it.

Ilia:Yeah it’s for lazy people or emergencies. I won’t stop you from taking it but I’ll hold it against you.

Sun:So what you’re saying is I have no choice?

Ilia:That’s the spirit!

Ilia extended a hand out of the leaves and waited patiently. He wasn’t getting out of this. Not by a long shot. Sun dramatically started rotating his hips and stretching as if he wasn’t already limbered up. Ilia wanted to playfully roll her eyes but found herself paying attention to the way his buttoned shirt slightly lifted up. For the first time she was actually a bit disappointed it was buttoned up and she hated herself for it.

‘This is stupid. He’s stupid. I’ve been complaining about his banana breath for months and I know I suddenly feel….I don’t know what I feel! Why the hell is he getting to me? How am I getting to him? Are we filling the void or-’ “Heads up!”Sun shouted as he jumped at her. Ilia was glad he did or else because she had stopped paying attention entirely. She didn’t even know he stopped stretching and now she’s grabbing his arm and pulling him up. ‘Great, now he has me spacing out…’ It was difficult not to chastise herself at this point. Feelings are complimented but not this complicated.

‘I don’t even like men.’ She knew this part of herself very well and from a young age. Of course she’s tried a couple of hetero relationships but early on she knew for a fact that she just wasn’t feeling anything romantic or otherwise. Yet here she was, clearly feeling something. It burned like fire and made her chest heavy, but also made her feel like she was breathing better than ever? Her heart ached, but she didn’t want it to stop. Somehow, it felt….good? All these positives and negatives kept clashing. She felt like a walking contradiction.

Sun had noticed the girl was lost in thought while they entered her home. He chose to leave her be. He wasn’t sure of what to say anyways. Right now he was invested in looking around. ‘I wish my home was half as cool as this.’ He thought while removing his shoes. Living in a literal treehouse was already cool but the way everything was set up kept adding brownie points. Then it hit him, small talking about her home could break the ease. He touched her shoulder and Ilia jumped a little; realizing she had spaced out again.

Ilia:S...Sorry. You say something?

Sun:I was gonna say you have a nice place.

Ilia:Oh, thanks. *smiles* You wouldn’t believe how long it took to make this place. Worth it though. It’s out of the way and peaceful.

Sun:Yeah I’ve noticed you tend to like your space. Anyways...I’ll...see ya tomorrow?

Ilia:Umm yeah?

Sun:....

Ilia:...

Sun:*slowly walking to the futon.*

Ilia:What are you doing?

Sun:About to...sleep?

Ilia:Aren’t you forgetting something?

Sun:....covers?

Ilia:A shower Sun. You’re dirty from being out partying.

Sun:I don’t have spare clothes.

Ilia:I have plenty of big t-shirts and basketball shorts. There’s spare towels and washcloths already in the bathroom.

Sun:Thanks.

Ilia:I can’t believe you tried going to sleep filthy.

Sun:Listen, I’m playing this by ear.

Ilia:Well make sure you wash behind said ears.

She walked down to the end of the wall into her room. A circular bed filled most of the room with cabinets drawers built in underneath where she stored her clothes. Lights hung from the center of the ceiling and spread across the walls like vines; while a small hatch connected to a string could open a piece of the ceiling to maya sky light. Airflow was good too. ‘I’m glad I cleaned in here.’

…..

‘Why’d I think that? He’s not going to be in here.’ Ilia dismissed the thought from her mind and grabbed whatever she reached for first. Blue shorts and yellow shirt; it’s funny how life works out like that sometimes. Ilia left the room and tossed Sun the clothes as he walked into the restroom.

Ilia:To turn on the shower-

Sun:I can figure out a bathtub Ilia.

Ilia:(Okay Mr. Know it all.Is the day finally getting to him or something? Guess I shouldn’t blame him. He’s not the only one on edge.)

Rushing water and the change of the sound of it hitting the tub did indeed let her know he figured it out. Oddly enough, knowing that Sun was currently showered wasn’t as flustering as everything else. That was until she realized a cold reality. One of two things would happen when he wears those clothes. Option one, he realizes there’s no change in underwear and wears the pair he has; eww. Or option two, he’ll go commando. In her shorts. That first option was looking really good. It’ll give her a reason to knock him down a peg.

Instead of waiting for him like a weirdo; Ilia went back to her room to grab one of the dozen pillows on her bed along with a spare blanket. It didn’t take long to turn the futon into bed mode and set everything up. She actually finished right as he got out. The boy’s hair and tail were a bit damp and his clothes folded up. That was unexpected. It really was hard to pinpoint exactly what level of care Sun did and did not have for hygiene. Ilia couldn’t resist looking at all the layers of the folded clothes. Sure enough, his boxers were there and not on him. Another thing to add to her contradicting feelings.

Ilia:Those fit you surprisingly well.

Sun:Why do you have such baggy clothes?

Ilia:Lounge wear. I like to be comfortable.

Sun:Really? Judy told me the opposite. Something about wearing bras while at home?

Ilia:Why does she care so much about that!? What’s the problem with that!?

Sun:She said it had something to do with being comfortable with your body in a safe environment. I didn’t really get it either. Do you have a place to wash these?

Ilia:Yeah I’ll deal with it. Right now just-...

Sun:Ilia?

She didn’t answer him. For a second he had thought she spaced out again but no, she was looking at him? Ilia started walking forward and actually passed him to the bathroom to the sink. Sun realized he had forgotten the things that were in his pockets there. Then, his face went pale.

Ilia picked up his scroll, a pack of gum, some change, and the thing that made her shut up in the first place. A couple of condom packets. Sun felt like flinging himself out the tree as Ilia walked back to him and slowly put all the items on his stack of clothes. The two looked at each other. Ilia had a face of skepticism and slight embarrassment. Sun doubled down on the ladder.

Ilia:So...were you feeling lucky tonight? Confident? Dumb...?

Sun:I swear those aren’t mine.

Ilia:Yet you have them because…?

Sun:Okay, they’re mine now. But I didn’t ask for them. Neptune gave me those when you and Judy got food. He kept going on about being prepared and not knowing what tonight could hold. I was trying to give them back but then you showed up and I panicked.

‘Neptune.’ Ilia thought menacingly. ‘You’ll get yours.’

Sun:Still mad.

Ilia:Not mad, I’m just on edge. Sorry.

Sun:Trust me, I get it. Go take your shower and I’m gonna go to sleep. I think we both need it.

Ilia:Yeah. You’re right. If you got hungry then feel free trying to create whatever out of the fridge.

Sun:Will do; thanks.

At last, the night was finally over. It was fun, exhausting but fun. She had taken her shower then went straight to her room. Ilia’s body felt heavy yet her mind was still racing and her eyes fully open; sleeping was impossible. Her hands fiddled with the stitching of the black basketball shorts and her gold tank top felt off for some reason. She knew it was all in her head. What felt off was in the other room.

Ilia grabbed her scroll to check the time. Almost one o’clock; only forty five minutes has passed since she finished her shower. ‘This is ridiculous. I’m tired so sleeping should be easy.’ She tried closing her eyes to sink into sleep but it never came. It only took another five minutes before she rose from her bed agitated. ‘I wonder if Sun is up? One way to find out.’

Ilia walked to the door before stopping suddenly. The butterflies were coming back. It was almost unbearable. Still she persisted and followed through. Step by anxious step, she walked towards the living room. Ilia peeked around the corner as if this was someone else’s house and found him facing the wall and bundled up under the blanket she gave him. At first glance he looked to be completely at rest. However, the twitch of his nose and eyes seen thanks to faunus night vision indicated otherwise.

Ilia:I know you’re awake. Don’t try to lie.

Sun:Sigh...looks like we’re both restless.

Ilia:Scooch over. At least we have tv.

He did what he was told and sat up so she could sit on his left. The light from the tv lit the dark room with some anime Ilia seemed to like. Sun wondered if Blake influenced the girl or if it was the other way around all along? Now wasn’t the time to bring her up though. It would’ve killed the mood; whatever that might be.

Ilia wasn’t afraid to steal cover from him and did so without a second thought. After sitting on the bench from earlier, this by far was an improvement. There was a bit more space this time. However, she could still feel the heat coming from him; so warm and inviting. She couldn’t help but scoot a little closer; making her skin turn more than a little red. Sun tried to focus on the show but it wasn’t working. Whatever shampoo Ilia used on her long flowing hair was tickling his nose. Maple, somehow it was perfect for her. Sun might’ve been a patient person even if he had his limits, and right now morality and a bit of fear was the only thing holding them back. He wasn’t the only one. Unlike him however, Ilia had enough of the tension. Progress had to be made; for better or for worse.

Ilia:It was nice….

Sun:Huh?

Ilia:You asked me at the pier how it was when we...you know. It was nice, from what I can remember.

Sun:*red* Oh. Me- me too. From what I can remember. It’s still pretty hazy at some parts. I...still remember your rules though.

Ilia:Is that right?

Sun:Yep.

……

Ilia:You’re holding yourself back somehow for my sake aren’t you? Even after what Neptune and I told you. I...don’t mind if you’re a little greedy sometimes.

His heart skips a beat. Sun looked at her from the corner of his eyes. Ilia kept both eyes on the screen but her entire face was flushed. She tried stealing a glance but locked eyes with him for a second. His attention was fully on her.

His silence was getting to her something fierce. She was about to speak again but the sudden warmth of Sun wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer made her gasp in surprise.

She was more than warm now; Ilia felt like an inferno. She could feel Sun’s hands shake slightly as they began roaming her midsection and legs. He was nervous. Good, that means she wasn’t alone.

Ilia places her hands on his to let him know his touch was more than welcomed. It got a bit more firmer. More confident. Ilia closed her eyes and shuddered from the way his hands made her body feel like it was melting. Short breaths of air sucked through her teeth periodically the more he advanced. Pleasure or not, Ilia’s pride refused to let her express to Sun how much she was enjoying such a simple act.

It only got more difficult. Sun leaned in and pressed his lips against her neck; making the girl in his arms bite her lip a little rougher than she would’ve liked. Slowly he trailed upwards until Ilia could feel his breath against her ear. “Let me know if you wanna stop.”, he whispered in a husky tone that was new to her. She doubted it was gonna be the last time it was heard. Ilia didn’t trust herself to speak so nodded instead. Sun’s hand got busy. His left hand slid under Ilia’s shirt and towards her chest. While the right one took the plunge down into shorts; trailing the middle finger up and down her already damp slit.

Ilia wasn’t ready for the sudden surge of pleasure. Her body hunched over a little as a reflex as she let out a small whimper. The freckles across her started turning pink as Sun kept the attention on her left tit and mound. “F..Fuck…”, she said with a rasp in her voice. She was rarely this sensitive; this needy. Yet right now Ilia felt like she had just run a marathon and was starting to break a sweat. Is this what happens when you let tension build all day? It was kinda worth it.

“You okay?” Sun said with his voice more normal than last time.

“Mmmhmm” was all Ilia could manage in the moment. She leaned back into his chest and lifted her waist. Both of her hands went to the waistband of her shorts a little faster than she meant to do and pulled the unneeded clothing off. She bent her left leg and placed on the futon. Allowing Sun to have more room for his right hand to work. The feeling of something poking her lower only her head get fuzzier. Ilia didn’t really remember much about what Sun was packing but she was anxious regardless.

Sun couldn’t help but think how cute she looked right now.Not to mention how aroused he was. He wasn’t afraid to admit that seeing her like this was thrilling. He wanted more. “You know you don’t have to hold back either right?” His voice dripping with desire. “I wanna hear you…”

Yeah, that voice was going to be a problem. “Don’t get ahead of yourse-aah!”

Her protest went unfinished as she felt Sun’s middle finger slide into her. The digit rubbed slowly; exploring this new, soaked area. With each thrust the walls clamped and spasmed around it. Sun continued kissing her. The assault on so many areas at once crumbled Ilia’s resolve. Her chest rising and falling in excitement. “That wasn’t so hard, wasn't it?”

“I’m...totally getting you...back.” Ilia did her best to calm down but it wasn’t working. Being the only one overwhelmed wasn’t fun. She was the person with actual experience here. Somehow she gathered her thoughts together and managed to reach behind her and tug on Sun’s shorts. A chill up his spine and through his tail from Ilia’s nimble fingers run down his pelvis. Moments later a rush of adrenaline hits him as her hands wrap around his length and frees it. Slowly her hands start stroking it up down. Ilia was never an expert at this thing for obvious reasons but Sun seemed to enjoy it. Low groans invaded her ear as she picked up the pace. The hot and foreign object steadily getting harder with time.

The sounds Ilia got out of Sun only made her enjoy it more. When was the last time foreplay felt this rewarding? This intense? She wanted to keep it going but her body had other plans. Sun slid a second finger into her to add more fuel to the fire that threatened to burn her up. “Sun...Sun!” Being quiet was out the window. Every touch felt like electricity. Her toes started to curl as she teetered on the edge of her release. “Time out! Time out!” She shouted frantically before it was too late.

“Huh?” Sun was caught off guard but stopped as instructed. Was she hurt? Did she change her mind. A million worries started building up as she sat forward and turned towards him completely flushed. Her shirt clinged to her body from the thin layer of sweat that covered her. Even strands of hair stuck to Ilia’s face as she calmed down. She didn’t look hurt, not at all. So why stop? “Umm did I do something wrong?”

Ilia shook her head side to side. “No. I just… the couch. I didn’t expect so much to happen here. It’s...way harder to clean than my sheets is all.” She wasn’t lying. The bed was definitely a better choice to do this. What she didn’t admit to him was how hard that orgasm was about to hit. No way would she have any energy to return the favor if it had.

“Oh, phew, I thought I did something bad. I’ve kinda been playing this entire thing by ear.” Knowing that only made Ilia more embarrassed. ‘I gotta step my game up.’ She thought; her heartbeat finally calming down a bit. She took this opportunity to look at what she had been so feverishly stroking. It only made her entire body change red in surprise. It didn’t look how she’d expect. It wasn’t anything cartoonishly big like many people over exaggerate about but she had a hard time believing that fit in her before. Then again, she did have a limp.

“Umm Ilia, could you not stare. It’s a little embarrassing.” The boy said sheepishly. It was crazy how fast his attitude changed in the heat of the moment. “Sorry, just psyching myself up is all. Where are the condoms?”

“The counter. We’re going straight to that? No oral or anything?” A valid question that would’ve made Ilia redder if that was even possible. “Sorry but not really the type of girl to do that in a...straight scenario.” It felt a little rude to say that out loud. “I wouldn’t feel right if you did it to me because then it’s one sided.”

He got why she felt that way but it was a little disappointing. He’d never done anything like that before either; it would’ve been interesting. “Understandable.Guess we’ll skip right to the fun part then.” Without warning he lifted her up. Ilia gave a small yelp; instinctively wrapping her arms and legs around him. “Hey! Warn me next ti-aah! S...Sun..” Ilia tried to maintain some bite in her voice but it proved nearly impossible by the small bites and nibbles being placed on her neck. The fire she tried to quell was rising again. She could barely keep her eyes open while Sun took her to bed. His tail grabbing the condoms from the counter along the way. This was really happening.

Sun pushed open the door and laid her gently on the bed. Ilia watched the boy make a sincere smile that said “yeah, I’m nervous too.” The fact that he’s been so attentive to her needs was chipping away at her pride and slightly bruising her ego. He shouldn’t be doing most of the work. Time to step up.

“Hey…”

“Hmm? Yeah Ili-” She pulled him down onto her bed before he could finish speaking. Ilia grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off him; along with kicking off all the surplus pillows. Then leaned him back a little as she bit his neck; the feel of her left hand running across his skin frazzled Sun and left him speechless. “Relax for me…” her tone sultry and deliberately making things more anxious for him. Sun tried to control his breathing as her lips ran across his chest and her free hand pulled off his shorts; boxers and all.

Ilia finally removed her now soaked panties and straddled her friend right above his member. Sun was about to remind her about the condom but felt a chill as thin latex was being rolled onto him. ‘When did she take it from me?” He wondered in amazement and concerned. Being that sneaky in a situation like this is a dangerous skill. He wondered if it came naturally, or practiced?

“So, you ready?” His voice was shaking as he looked into her eyes. “Because I’m not.” Ilia pressed her forehead against his. Their bodies slightly shook and felt like pure flames. “Guess we’re on the same page. Second thoughts?”

“Not on your life.”

“Good, or this would’ve been pretty embarrassing.” Ilia raised her hips and lined him up with her entrance. Slowly she started to lower herself down. Inch by inch Ilia felt Sun spread her sensitive walls until he was nearly all the way inside. Full couldn’t begin to describe this feeling. It was like he was touching everything at once; sending pleasure from head to toe. How she did this drunk she’ll never understand.

Ilia leaned forward and hid her face in the crook of his neck and started rocking her hips. Raising them till the tip was all that remained before sinking back down to her limit. Gradually she got faster with each one and couldn’t stop the sounds of her own pleasure from escaping.

Sun was no different. His heart raced and his jaw was clenched tightly. She gripped him like a vice and felt hotter than imaginable. He didn’t know how he didn’t cum immediately. “Fuuuck! Ilia!” He groaned into her ear with a hunger in his voice. “You feel so good!” The bed began to creak as they continued to go at it; the only louder noise being their voice and the sound of wet flesh colliding.

Their minds became cloudy as they brought each other closer to the edge. Instincts guided their body’s now. Ilia felt her strength starting to wane. Annoyingly, her hips started slowing down. Nails dug into Sun’s back and her eyes closed as she tried to hold out just a little longer. “Close. I’m so damn close..”, she whimpered and mewled in a haze of passion.

“Me too. Ahh! Ilia!” He wasn’t going to let this moment fade, not yet. Not like this. Sun gripped the girls slender waist and started timing his thrust with hers. The way his fingers pressed into her reminded Ilia of last time. The added intensity and memories made her body rage and ache. Tension was building in the pit of her gut and her toes started to curl once again. “Sun I’m...I’M!!!”

Her lips denied her from finishing her sentence. Instead she let out a cry of pleasure while her entire body felt like it had just gotten zapped by a million volts. Sun felt Ilia’s soaked walls clamp down tighter to milk him of everything he had. The grip was too much for him to bear and Sun came, hard. Ilia felt the condom swell inside her. No doubt filling with ropes of cum from Sun’s frantically twitching length. Latex or not, she could feel the warmth from the loud and it made her shudder. She couldn’t even imagine the feeling of it actually shooting into her. The thought made her heart skip a beat.

Energy quickly left their bodies and Sun fell backwards with Ilia on laying on his chest. Sweat covered both of them and each struggled for a moment to calm their breathing. It wasn’t long after that Sun finally went limp enough to slide out of the gir. Ilia used the strength she had left to remove the condom and tie it up before tossing it to the side. Proper disposal can happen later. Right now was resting time.

Sun:Phew, that was...was…

Ilia:It really was….

Sun:So I did good?

Ilia:I’m...panting and was screaming. You tell me?

Sun:Good. I’m relieved. Not exactly experienced with any of this.

Ilia:You did wonderfully.

She groaned in blissful exhaustion. Keeping her eyes half open was a real struggle. Everything felt surreal. It had been all night. Both were about to pass out any minute.

Ilia:Time to rest. I can feel myself drifting.

Sun:Want me to go back to the couch? Give you some room?

Ilia:Idiot. You think I’d just kick you to the curve after this? I’m not getting off you and you earned this spot for tonight.

Sun:Good. Don’t think I would’ve made it there anyways. You think this will be weird tomorrow? Or you know, okay?

Ilia:You’re more than welcome to sneak out before I wake up if you can’t handle it. But right now..

She clung to him and willingly closed her eyes. “Rest…” those were her final words before drifting off into slumber. Sun followed right behind her. Letting darkness surround them as he held the girl close. It truly had been a long day.

Part 9 & Part 10(1)

#rwby sunspots #rwby sunshower #sun wukong #ilia amitola #sun x ilia #rwby #rwby ships #never ask me for anything again 💀#i dipped my toes a little in the sin

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