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naruhearts · 3 years

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I’m done keeping my composure.

Sorry, this will be a LOADED post! (And I’ll be repeating the points others have made)

for real, to everyone being nasty and telling heartbroken fans that “Dean was always supposed to die get a grip you’re just butthurt etcetera etcetera—” F you royally.

How dare you police the brutal feelings that’s been embroiling us since the Finale That Must Not Be Named aired.

The show you think you all watched, the show you all believe was the same SPN from Season 1-4, changed at some point. Kripke wrote his original vision, put it to screen, saw it through in S5 as he intended, and closed the door on that era.

In 2008, Supernatural was adopted and inherited. As you know, there was a supreme paradigm shift post-Kripke era. The show FLOURISHED (we won’t talk about Gamble thanks). It evolved, transformed, grew beyond trauma-induced self-worthlessness and toxic masculinity and endless death and hegemonic social ideals and conservatism and repressive anti-revolutionary ideas. Castiel, the iconic favourite and beloved staple of the series portrayed by Misha Collins, was introduced in Season 4 as the core lead character, and he ushered in a brand new era of Christian mythos that SPN took advantage of. Longevity SKYROCKETED. Audiences were INTERESTED. SPN amassed an incredibly groundbreaking fanbase infused by non-nuclear principles. A massive subversive wave began, fighting the Status Quo of the times since 2008. It’s precisely why such an abysmal ending to a show of extensive Freud-Jungian metanarratively meta META complex stature and social POWER will render us totally and unbearably broken for years to come.

Point is, DEAN WINCHESTER NO LONGER WANTED TO DIE. HE WANTED TO LIVE. HE WANTED TO SIT ON THE BEACH, PLUNGE HIS TOES IN THE SAND, AND SIP UMBRELLA DRINKS WITH HIS BROTHER AND HIS BEST FRIEND. He said this in Season 13. And then, a season later, he told the ghost of his long-deceased father — the source of his deep-running trauma and the figure of self-reductive authoritarianism permeating his arc since Season 1 — after being questioned why he didn’t pursue the Nuclear Fam, that he already has his own: his brother Sam, his adopted child Jack, and Cas.

Dean’s best friend Cas. Oh god, Cas, who made his inevitably permanent mark on Dean’s soul beyond allyship. Castiel, renamed to Cas, God’s -iel removed by Dean. Dean, the human spark that lit the fire of pre-existing autonomy in the inherently rebellious angel who was, this entire time, the catalyst for free will in God The Writer’s puppet show. Their friendship set on goddamn fire. I can also write paragraph upon paragraph about my love for Cas while devastated tears stream down my face, but I digress—

Cas’ romantic love for Dean pushed our main Heart of SPN to love himself. Love is free will. Free will is also love. Of note, Cas’ love confession in 15x18 was supposed to offset something so vastly important and fundamental...to maybe (read: most likely) pull the trigger on SELF-TRUTHS in conjunction with free will. And The Great Anticipated Follow-Up to the episode penned by the passionate Berens should have included (read: seemed like it was going to be) Dean, closeted trauma survivor in love with his best friend, being given the opportunity to do it right: to SPEAK HIS TRUTH, and then that very singular opportunity was STOLEN so grossly. After poring over it for days, I refuse to believe we made their years-long story up out of thin air, spun it out of fantastical-delusional dream cotton candy, because we DIDN’T. IT WAS REAL.

As I said in another post: “I’ve just been feeling physically ill for the past >40 something hours with the terrible knowledge that 19/20 undid years of vital progression towards healthy interdependence, autonomy, and a positive endgame, where Sam, Dean and Cas close the ring of found family in final empowering self-fulfillment...where Dean, no longer repressed and set free, is able to use his words and speak his truth as a queercoded trauma survivor, henceforth confirming and self-affirming his own bisexuality since S1 by reciprocating — by telling Cas that he always loved him, too, loved him endlessly, which would have altogether divested Supernatural of its cult status and catapulted it into global worldwide significance as the longest running sci-fi genre show in American broadcasting history that actually dared to defy and, by proxy, empower LGBTQ2IA+ everywhere who found profound personal meaning in Destiel through VALIDATION,” — found themselves mirrored in Dean and Cas’ respective character journeys individually and as each other’s queer love interests.

THIS IS WHY DEAN WASN’T MEANT TO DIE.

THEY WERE SO ESSENTIAL, NOT JUST TO THE OVERARCHING STORY AND HEALTHY INTERPERSONAL THEMATICS OF MODERN SPN, BUT ALSO TO THE SOULS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE ACROSS THE WORLD WHO FOLLOWED THEIR JOURNEYS, HOPED FOR THEM, ASPIRED TO BE LIKE THEM, TREASURED THEM, WEEPED FOR THEM, AND FOUGHT FOR THEM, LIKE YOU AND ME.

Heck, how could anyone think Sam Winchester had a well-deserved characteristic ending? He didn’t. Dean’s brother was shafted so badly. He stopped hunting when seasons ago, he had canonically accepted that he no longer wanted an apple pie life. He simply...turned the lights off in a resoundingly empty bunker and left — abandoning his dead brother’s room — never to return (he did return later to get the Impala, family photos etc, I mean this symbolically)...as if — dare I say it — Supernatural itself eerily told us, in the negative-spaced pitch blackness, that the organic show and the wonderfully complex, matured characters we’ve grown to love weren’t going to survive or be revisited...that it was all going to perish, and that they no longer gave a single shit about their own show, which, to me, is the worst cardinal sin, because how dare they throw Team Free Will, an immovable and indomitable and passionate found family they built from the ground up, a found family CHOCK FULL TO THE BRIM OF LOVE AND LIFE RAGING AGAINST THE AUTHORITARIAN MACHINE IN ORDER TO ACHIEVE FREE WILL, under the bus no matter who is to blame. Growth was stomped on.

Then Sam married a faceless wife who wasn’t his textually established (and deaf) love interest Eileen, named his son Dean Jr., and grew old miserably, still mourning the passing of his older brother, shaken and sombre. Back to square one. IT WAS ALL ANTITHETICAL, even OUTSIDE a shipping context, and I ripped my hair out at this point in sheer disbelief.

This 15x20 ending would have fit somewhere between S4-7. Now? IT DOESN’T FIT. IT’S A JAGGED PUZZLE PIECE THAT DOESN’T BELONG ANYWHERE. IT’S THE FOREBODING UNKNOWN STRANGER IN ITS OWN LAND, BOTH LITERALLY AND FIGURATIVELY. This kind of ending was basically an illogical, unsound cluster of metastasized cells that, to me, ruined the viability of previous seasons to sustain bold praise and respect and dignity and rewatches and classic nostalgia in such insidious ways.

Dean Humanity Winchester and Cas, after everything they’ve been through, were silenced and lost in death, ripped apart from each other, unable to love each other the way they deserved, because of disappointing, vile incompetency and homophobia. The greatest love story ever told, again obliterated in less than 60 hollow minutes.

You know what this tells your audience, CW SPN? Death without self-growth is the way to go, and no one is allowed to forge their own path to freedom.

HOW INSULTINGLY HARMFUL IS THAT?

I don’t think I’ll ever stop grieving.

We all deserve answers.

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

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now that I've accepted that I am forever unclean and that Analyzing the CW’s Hit TV Show Supernatural Specifically Dean Winchester is the regular hell loop that is my brain -

I Have Some Words to Say About Miracle (the dog):

Yes, this motherfucker.

(this episode contains SPOILERS from Season 15 of Supernatural including 15x09, 15x18, 15x19; TRIGGER WARNING - abuse, trauma, self harm, and spn 15x20 analysis).

I know we as a collective were confused (and angered) when instead of getting his One True Love at the end of the series, Dean Winchester got....a dog. No offense Miracle, because you are cute and fluffy and I’d keep you forever

YES FOREVER YOU ARE SO FLUFFY COME HOME TO ME NOW

but

Dean Winchester does not like dogs.

Some have theorized it’s because he was killed by hellhounds at the end of Season 3, which is enough to give you a little canine PTSD:

Even explaining the following behavior in Yellow Fever:

He was also killed by this dog at one point in Mystery Spot:

It’s canon he has a strong aversion to dogs in the Impala:

(I would like to know more about Don)

There’s also probably lingering/repressed anger around that whole Sam never looked for him while he was in Purgatory situation:

There is, however, ONE prior episode in which Dean doesn’t hate dogs.

In Dog Dean Afternoon, when, as a side effect of a spell, he takes on the characteristics OF a dog.

(don’t let anyone tell you Jensen Ackles doesn’t have range, by the way).

SO MY THEORY ON “WHY MIRACLE” BASED ON THE AFOREMENTIONED IS:

As essentially everything, it all goes back to John Dumpster Fire Winchester, Father of the Year.

If you’re a John Winchester apologist, you should just stop reading now. Also just don’t. There is NO REASON TO DEFEND THIS MAN.

We know John was abusive. Just one example of what he put Dean through when he was NINE that he STILL remembers.

Also, this:

I could go on, but you get the picture. Why people were so thrilled when he came back for Lebanon keeps me up at night (nothing against the wildly talented Jeffrey Dean Morgan; he is fantastic, but John Winchester is trash).

Dean’s childhood abuse is part of the reason he is convinced he is unworthy of anyone and anything. It’s the first thing Cas notices about him.

Sam knows it too.

Even Crowley:

Abuse is generational. Dean has shown he has potential to continue the cycle.

With Sam:

(not mentioned, lying, controlling Sam’s choices, the angel possession thing)

With Ben when he lives with Lisa:

He snaps at him about taking a gun from the Impala’s trunk at the beginning of Season 6, and then in Live Free or Twihard he physically pushes him against a wall (granted he’s a vampire at the time, but still - not an excuse).

With Jack:

At the outset of their relationship, Dean treats Jack the way John treated Sam. He initially blames him for Cas’s death just like John blamed Sam for Mary’s (remember when John not only forced Dean to fucking single-parent Sam but later told Dean he may have to kill him seriously I could strangle this man).

Dean is terrified of turning into his father and perpetuating the cycle. Remember the lyrical genius of Single Man Tear in Fan Fiction?

“But underneath this broken mask It is my father, with all his wrath”

That’s why he pushes away the people who love him the most. He deeply believes he will inevitably hurt them.

He doesn’t even allow himself to begin a relationship with Jack at first. The Jack/Dean arc is wildly important in all of this not only for representing Dean’s fear in perpetuating the cycle, but also because Jack/Dean is a narrative mirror for Dean/John.

Remember what Jack was doing before this? (TW: self harm)

Think about that in terms of Jack representing Dean. Sit with it for a second. Oof.

I posit to you this is also why Dean becomes so aggressive in using Jack to stop Chuck in Season 15. Remember Dean consistently refers to the hamster wheel (a literal CYCLE) throughout this season. This ties directly into Dean’s fear that he can’t control his life; that he is destined to become just like John - abusive and cruel. Team Free Will for Dean has always represented the glimmer of hope that this will not be his ending.

15x05:

The gun is gone, but it turns out Jack can be the weapon that ends God. Think back to someone else who was fighting a Big Bad in Supernatural, and was so obsessed with finding the weapon to end him that he sacrificed everything, including his family for it. Dean is acting exactly like John Winchester. He’s perpetuating the cycle. And that’s also part of the reason he shoves Cas away - because he believes this is inevitable, this is who he was always going to become.

That’s why the purgatory prayer is BRILLIANT and important:

Dean is finally talking about his anger; his fear of the cycle. How his first response to stress and conflict is anger, just like John’s. He is acknowledging and accepting that this is in him, and sharing it with Cas.

WOOF ok so back to dogs. You forgot this post is about dogs right? So, we all know dogs give us unconditional love. The best and truest kind.

Abusers also tend to abuse animals. Dean’s aversion to dogs is a manifestation of the cycle of abuse. He believes if he gets a dog, he will inevitably abuse and torment it, because he believes that is who he is. So he just acts like he doesn’t like them.

Until this happens:

And the very next episode, we meet Miracle.

Tell me this isn’t a man who has ALWAYS LOVED DOGS.

And BTW he has no issues having Miracle ride in the Impala. Because that wasn’t ever the real problem to begin with.

Cas’s words of love helped Dean break the cycle.

Reinforced in the finale (derogatory):

When Chuck says -

Dean responds with that’s not who I am.

And that’s the reason for Miracle. Dean’s Team Free Will ending is breaking the toxic loop, and accepting love without fear that he will destroy it. It’s acknowledging that while the history of abuse exists, it does not have to control or define him. He chooses a different path. He chooses to be defined by love.

But he was still robbed of actually living his life with the people who got him here. I will never stop screaming that he deserved better. If you are fighting against this cycle, please know that you too deserve better.

Oh and John Winchester 10000000000 percent belongs in hell.

Which is why the Sexy Silence continues.

BONUS FOR SEROTONIN:

#spn meta #spn analysis #dean winchester #supernatural #spn family #spn fandom #spn meta fandom #psychoanalyzing Dean Winchester is my hyperfixation #longpost #feel free to reblog #mind the tws

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mageofseven · 4 years

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Thank you both for requesting! I was originally gonna split this up into two posts, one for a good ending and one for a bad ending, but I think I found a way to keep both within this post with how I decided to format it. However, while I was writing Satan's section, I hit the word limit for a post. I didn't even realize that was a thing 😳

Basically, that's why this ask is still gonna be separated into multiple parts, likely 3 but we'll see. I honestly didn't think I'd write this much, but this ask got me so inspired, it's crazy.

So everyone! This is gonna continue off from the pregnancy discovered in this post. If you haven't seen it yet, it's worth a read.

Below is Lucifer, Mammon, and Levi's sections.

Part 2 | Part 3

Lucifer:

The man thought he was prepared. He thought.

Lucifer expected all different kinds of physical ailments that he would have to help MC cope through; he didn't expect the ailments to be mental.

He noticed it start around her fourth month. Before that point, the demon was surprised at how calm things were. His Love went through the usual struggles of human pregnancy, like the morning sickness in the first trimester, but that was all. Nothing odd had happened and though he was grateful, Lucifer was also suspicious.

The start was subtle. His Love's spirits had been seeming down, despite keeping a cheerful outlook for all the weeks before this. She was happy for this child and it was infectious, easing the Avatar of Pride's worry about fatherhood and making him look forward to this child as well.

That was shattered when the low spirit had suddenly progressed into a heavy depression. MC couldn't even leave their bed most days and getting her to eat had become a challenge for the first brother.

He simply couldn't understand the sudden nose dive in mood and any questioning came up empty. MC didn't know why she felt what she felt and that scared her.

It was the end of that month when the fear really set in though.

Lucifer had a meeting with Diavolo at the castle. He had laid in bed and cuddled his girlfriend close beforehand, giving her a kiss and promising he'd be back in a couple hours.

He had only been gone for 10 minutes when he got a call from Mammon, who was freaking out. The older brother couldn't fully make out what the second brother was saying, but he heard his Love's name in jumble that was his brother's words so he hung up and rushed back home.

Discovered all six of his brothers in his room, trying to calm a panicked MC, who was screaming and crying on the floor.

The demon rushed to her side, trying to calm her down and figure out just what was happening. His Love clung to him and he could feel the her heart beating as if it meant to break free from her chest and the man felt powerless.

Luckily, it only took about a minute of being in his arms for the woman to stop screaming. She cried in his arms for a while and slowly, her heart beat settled.

Lucifer was so confused. What happened and why? The man shooed his brothers out of the room before carrying his Love back to the bed.

Discovers that after he left, an uneasiness set in that quickly turned into blind panic. The woman didn't even notice the brothers or hear any of their attempts to calm her.

To say that the demon was concerned would be an understatement. He had to convene with Diavolo at once for a new reason.

The man laid with his girlfriend till she fell asleep, exhausted from her previous panic.

Lucifer called his friend and apologized for his absence before explaining the situation. Lord Diavolo, now concerned as well, decided to come to House of Lamentation instead.

The two discussed the issue in his study. The lord listened to his friend's predicament before explaining that this was likely a side affect of MC's angel heritage.

Right now, their baby was trying to form its soul along with its body and the demon child needs dark energies to do so. The woman's body is trying to absorb this dark energy for the child, but her repressed angel spirit is trying to repel it all, causing her own body and soul to fight. Her brain is the battle ground.

The reason it triggered in his absence is likely a psychological thing. Lucifer himself, as all demons do, radiate the very dark spiritual energy his child needs so, despite her soul's rejection, her great trust in her boyfriend gives her feelings of safety and has her mind lend support to her body to absorb the energy the baby needs.

To sum it up, his presence is the only thing keeping his girlfriend and child alive right now.

At this news, the man changes up everything about his schedule to stay near MC. He does all his paperwork at the desk in his room instead of in his study, he stops attending RAD the few days a week he still was at that time, made his meetings with Diavolo limited to only the most important work issues and always take place within his study at House of Lamentation. Sometimes he did have to leave her side, like for said meeting or simply because he had to grab food or use the restroom.

During those times, he'd call one of his brothers in to watch her. The demon had discovered that though her trust in them was not as great as it was in him, that trust still provided somewhat of a psychological cushion for her.

However, though their presence prevented full blown panic, it wasn't enough stop her from crying incessantly.

Most of his brothers could not handle her tears so it was usually Beel or Satan that accompanied her during these times.

It was hard for all of the men to watch, Lucifer included. He couldn't help blaming himself, knowing his carelessness had gotten her into this situation. Still, he had to keep it together for her sake.

The months went by and her belly grew. Lucifer missed that excitement he felt in the beginning of all of it when MC glowed with positivity. Now, unlike the times he was smiling and rubbing her belly as the two cuddled and discussed baby names, the emotionally exhausted demon saw it nothing more than a visual timer, reminding him that this will all be over soon.

Good Ending:

After a long nine months of his Love's mental and emotional suffering, the time finally came. It was late at night, around 3am when his Love awoke with labor pains. Lucifer was already awake and at his desk doing paperwork. He immediately called the doctor that Lord Diavolo had recommended for them before approaching his love and trying to calm her. This was it. It will all be over soon and his human will finally be happy once again.

Five and half hours later, the couple was greeted by a beautiful baby girl. The small baby had her mother's hair, her father's red eyes, and a bit surprisingly, her father's black wings. MC cried as she stared down at her daughter; her tears were accompanied by a smile though. A smile. That was enough for Lucifer, who started to tear up at the scene.

"You did so well, Love." He leaned down and kissed his girlfriend's head, staring down at the baby, now drinking from her mama's chest. "I'm so proud of you."

All the days before this were tortuous for the couple, as well as the rest of the House of Lamentation, but finally some happiness was lighting up the household.

The two end up naming their daughter Ksenia.

Bad End:

The demon sighed. He was at his desk, going through paperwork while his Love slept in bed behind him. It was 1am and though that never used to be such a late time for him, these last few months had him exhausted him. His worry and care for his girlfriend took up most of his energy these past few months. MC was already entering her eighth month of pregnancy. The two were just so close to putting this all behind them and being happy. So close.

Lucifer gave a huff and laid his pen down on the desk. His concentration was waning regardless of how much he fought it. He glanced over his shoulder at MC, watching her sleep peacefully. That's the only way she finds peace anymore, by shutting off her mind and losing consciousness. Every waking moment for her is a heavy one and moments she even perceives that she might be alone causes her heart to race in her chest... all she's knows anymore is that pain and sadness yet she pushes on for the sake of their child.

Lucifer stood up and approached the bed, staring down at his Love with a guilty heart. He leaned down and kissed her forehead as he laid his hand on her round belly. There were so many moments during all of this that... he cursed his child for doing this to her. Never aloud, just within the confines of his heart. It was always followed by a reminder that the fault is his own though, not his child's. Their child didn't make any decision nor was it actively trying to hurt their mother. No, this child exists because of him and MC, because of his choices and carelessness. None of the blame truly falls on his child; it falls on himself.

He gave her belly a gentle stroke, a silent apology to the child he felt that he had wronged. Already, he felt that he was making his previous words ring true; he's a terrible father to his child. The night that MC told him she was pregnant, he confessed this fear to her.

"I should have been better. Now what's stopping me from making the same mistakes with our child?"

"Me." She answered, without missing a beat. "Lucifer, you're not alone anymore. This... we can do this together."

He still remembers those words and they roll through his head every time the fear of fatherhood decides to rear its ugly head within his mind. No matter how scared he is on the inside, no matter what happens now, he cannot let himself be engulfed by it all. No. MC needs him now and he refuses to break for her sake.

The demon steps away from the bed and heads towards the door. He shouldn't leave her, he knew that, but sometimes he just had to. It was maddening, confining himself to his room for months on end. Occasionally, and only when his Love is asleep, he allows himself to step away from the room and head downstairs to his office.

Here he sat at his desk, pulling a bottle of demonus from his drawer. It would probably look bad to anyone finding him drinking alone in his office at a time like this, but the man was stressed and he only gave himself the luxury of doing so every two weeks or so.

The man lost track of time while he was down there and before he knew it, the sun was rising. Lucifer sighed before hiding the bottle back in his desk and went back upstairs to join his girlfriend in bed.

Instead, he found her lying on the wooden floor. He raced up, calling her name and pulling her into his arms to better check her.... she was cold. The demon's eyes widened as he checked for a pulse. None... no pulse, no breath...his Love was gone.

Later, he finds out what happened from Barbatos, who checked into the past for him. His Love awoke in a panic after a nightmare to find herself all alone. The usual panic from that compounded with the fear from the nightmare and it was too much for her heart, causing her to have a heart attack. No one heard her because her last moments were filled with her desperately trying to mute herself because she didn't want him or his brothers to hear and burden them with herself once more.

Lucifer was completely torn about this. In the space of a couple hours, he lost both his girlfriend and his daughter (Barbatos told him) because he left his room at the worst opportunity and because he didn't know she felt that way. The emotionally exhausted man never knew she saw herself as a burden. It never occurred to him that she could actually have believed such a ridiculous thing. But he should have. He should have spoke out more. As many times as he told he loved her, as many times as he told her everything would be okay, he never told her specifically that it was okay to lean on him because he didn't know that she needed to hear that.

And now they're gone. And now Lucifer has to live with feeling like he was both a bad father and a bad boyfriend.

Mammon:

It all started off pretty simple in theory: morning sickness

MC's morning sickness was strong and unfortunately, didn't just happen in the mornings.

The two had to skip a lot of school days at RAD. Lucifer allowed this, but had a hell of a time negotiating with their teachers, especially Mammon's, so they aren't penalized too much for this.

MC really couldn't eat breakfast. Or lunch for that matter. If she tried, she'd end up puking it up before even finishing the meal.

She could eat dinner, but it had to be something pretty light for her stomach.

It became so much more complicated as the pregnancy progressed.

Morning sickness usually ended during the first trimester, but it never actually stopped for MC. In fact, the farther she got into her pregnancy, the less her body could keep down.

This freaked Mammon out and he kept running to Lucifer, asking if there's something, anything he can do to help this.

For a while, all he could do was comfort his weakened human... but it was hard.

During her sixth month, it was hard to even look at MC some days because, despite being pregnant and her belly sticking out, the woman had actually lost weight since becoming pregnant; other than her growing belly, she was all skin and bones. Her legs, arms, even her face, all boney and sunken. She started to look as if the life was being sucked out her.

Somehow, the human stayed cheerful. Honestly, her boyfriend didn't understand it; their baby was practically starving her, but she still smiled.

The only time she showed any fear was when she'd tell Mammon how worried she was for their baby; she hadn't felt it kick yet and she was worried it was too weak to do it.

Everytime she spoke this worry, Mammon would hold her close and start rubbing her belly.

"Now, don't go talking like that." He leaned in and laid a kiss to her temple. "Baby is gonna fine."

"But they--"

"But nothin', babe. You know it's a bit on the early side for that anyhow."

"It's early for others to feel something, but I should have felt something before this, a flutter or something but they--"

Tears poured down her cheeks, breaking her man's heart. Mammon froze for a moment before leaning in with a kiss.

"A-Are you sure they'll be okay?" She sniffled, looking up into his eyes.

"Of course, you think I'd lie to you?" He asked before giving her belly a gentle rub. "Look how our kid has grown already! If something went wrong, they wouldn't still be growing, now would they?"

"I... I guess."

Despite everything he said, the Avatar of Greed was scared shitless. What if she was right and something already went wrong? What if he already failed her and his kid? Those thoughts were too much for him though so he did whatever he could to push them aside.

It was during her seventh month when Lucifer discovered a potion she could try, one that could help with the nausea and help her keep more food down.

Mammon had to give it to her every morning, but it helped her keep most of her meals down and regain her strength.

The first few days, they kept her on light meals just in case, but afterwards, she had free reign to eat whatever she craved.

This was when the late night food runs started happening. In all honesty, Mammon never thought he'd be so grateful to be woken up at 2am to get weird food combos like ice cream and beef jerky (MC seemed to have a thing for sweet 'n salty food combos).

Things were finally starting to seem okay; MC was eating, regaining her weight, and just seemed so happy. Not forced positivity, but some real happiness.

Then, around half way done with her 7th month, it happened. MC was sitting in the living room with Mammon and a couple of his brothers she suddenly gasped.

"M-Mammon!"

The man jumped up and rushed to her side. All of the brothers were now standing too, alarmed.

"Shit! What's wrong??"

She grabbed his hand his hand and laid it on her belly. He gave her a confused look for a moment till it happened. A kick! Their baby actually kicked!

MC cried, but also smiled as she saw his face light up.

"Holy-- see! I told you our kid was alright!" He grinned. "Just goes to show that you need to be trusting The Great Mammon more!"

The other brothers settled back down in their seats. Beel actually smiled at the happy couple, grateful that things seem to be turning around for them.

Good Ending:

The rest of the pregnancy went smoothly, thanks to the potion. The couple's worries seemed to disappear for the most part. MC was eating again and healthier; their baby was kicking and seemed pretty lively. There were even nights where the kid kept their mother up (and in turn, their father) with all their kicks and movements, but they were glad to trade sleepless nights for the confirmation that their child was healthy too.

It was her 39 week, just barely missing the nine month mark, when MC went into labor. Mammon panicked in the beginning, causing MC to have to calm him down through her labor pains. The demon eventually got a grip on himself and started helping his girlfriend. After six hours of labor, the couple was greeted with a baby girl, who had her daddy's white hair, her mama's eyes, and surprisingly, two little nubs on her head, which will likely grow into horns just like her dad's. The couple cried along side their bundle of joy. Mammon leaned down and kissed his Human.

"You did so good, Babe. Just look at our girl there."

Most of the pregnancy... it definitely wasn't easy, but when the couple stared down at their little girl, they knew it was all worth it.

The couple ended up naming their daughter Cassia.

Bad End:

It was during the beginning of MC's eighth month when she went into labor. Mammon still remembers her panicked tears as she kept saying over and over that it was too soon. The second born had Lucifer call the doctor as he just held her close and tried to calm her. He gave his all to stay calm himself, but his Human's fear and pain really broke him down inside to the point where he'd have to quickly wipe a tear of his own away before she saw it.

In the end, MC's body was just too weak. Even though she recently had been able to regain some of her strength, it didn't erase the months before that of her body being near starved. The doctor was barely able to save his daughter. Mammon can still remember the look on his girlfriend's face when their girl entered the world, a weak smile of relief. She went to say something, but suddenly exhaled her last breath, leaving her body permanently stilled.

And just like that, he lost the only person who he felt gave a damn about him. He remembers collapsing in on himself while his brothers only saw him stare far away into space. He remembered when his younger brothers started throwing insults and blame his way, saying his stupidity killed her. And he remembered throwing himself against the brother closest to him, later noticing it to be Belphie, just punching him and crying. This shocked them to the point that no one, not even Beel stepped up to stop him for the longest moment. This wasn't Mammon. Mammon never laid a hand on his brothers.

Lucifer was the one who snapped out of it first and pulled the second born off of Belphie. The room was silent as he cried, practically in unison with his daughter in the other room. That was the moment where each of his brothers started to realize just how much Mammon loved MC. All of the brothers cared about her and were hurting from her death, but this was first moment where they really took the Avatar of Greed seriously with his own feelings.

The Brother's were a lot softer with Mammon from then on. No matter what he stole from them, no matter how much debt he racked up, they kept a certain tenderness in their heart for the brother who lost it all with MC's death.

As a dad... Mammon tried his best. No one doubted that, even when the other brothers had to jump in to feed the girl or quiet her cries while her father either cried in bed or searched for some sort of distraction to calm his mind. Looking at Cassia... it was hard for the dad. He'd look down into her eyes, the same eyes she got from her mother, and could only think about how MC should be there with him now... but how she's not.

As a baby and toddler, Cassia was mostly raised by Asmo and Beel. As a child, she had gotten closer with her Uncle Lucifer. Mammon was a loving, but distant dad who constantly tore himself down even when his brothers no longer did.

Leviathan:

Levi and MC got a good five months before facing any major difficulties.

Outside of the morning sickness in the beginning, everything was pretty calm with the pregnancy till then

And what happened at this point in time... honestly, no one could have predicted this.

The two were sitting in his room, each reading their own chosen manga.

When the woman had risen from his side, the otaku didn't really give it any thought, just assumed that she needed to go pee or grab another pillow.

It wasn't till heard a splash to his left that he looked up from his book and saw his pregnant girlfriend at the bottom of his giant fish tank.

Panicking, the demon dropped his book his and rushed up to the top of fish tank. He didn't even notice that he transformed into his demon form before jumping in and swimming down to the human

He quickly swam up with her and carried her back out and onto his floor.

"Shit shit!" The man stared down at the unconscious human, brain being uncooperative as he realised they were not breathing. Then it clicked and Levi put both hands on his Human's chest and repeatedly pressed down, starting CPR.

When his girlfriend eventually coughed up the water in her lungs and came to, he nearly fainted in relief.

He scooped her into his arms and started crying.

"W-What were you thinking???"

The demon didn't understand what just happened. His Henry almost drowned. And she was the one threw herself in! Was she trying to kill herself? Was the whole pregnancy and parenthood stuff getting too scary for her? Was he not taking care of her good enough? Oh devil... what if she thinks he's gonna be a bad dad and just wants to end it all now??

As the Avatar of Envy always did, he thought of the worse outcomes that he could blame himself for.

"I... Levi, what happened?"

??!!

"What do you mean, what happened? You tried to drown yourself!"

The woman's eyes went wide and she frantically shook her head.

"I... no! I would never do that to our baby!"

Even now, she wasn't even thinking of her own life. Just their child's. Levi was scared for their kid's life too, but got so panicked over her's that he didn't mention it before.

As he looked down into her horrified expression, the demon knew she was telling the truth. Or, at least she believed she was.

For a second, the man doubted what he just saw, just experienced. Her drenched hair and clothes were the only things that cemented him in the knowledge that he was right.

But then why did she sincerely believe differently?

Levi texted Lucifer that there was an emergency and needed him in his room now before he helped MC get changed out of her wet clothes.

By the time Lucifer came to the room, MC was in Levi's pj pants and one of his tshirts with a blanket wrapped around her to keep her warm.

Lucifer could sense something different with MC the moment he entered the room. As a demon skilled with magic and curses, he could sense the energy shift within her

And once his younger brother explained what had happened, it had all clicked into place for the first brother. Granted, it was just a theory at this stage, but all signs still pointed to it.

The situation seemed to be a side affect of her pregnancy and a magical one at that. Her baby needed something that they weren't getting so they took the reigns and made their mother give it to them.

That something? Water. The baby seems to have inherited they're father's affinity for water.

Levi was frozen where he and MC sat on the couch.

Basically what the third brother was hearing was that this was his fault, that he almost lost his girlfriend and baby because he has a connection to water.

The demon was ready with a slew insults to express his self blame, but was stopped by MC's quick kiss.

"Hey... none of that." She said softly. "It's okay, it's not your fault. Besides, you saved me."

She knew her boyfriend well enough to know when he was gonna tear himself down but this... she couldn't let him blame himself for something this big.

As per Lucifer's advice, MC started lounging in the bath a couple times a day to see if that would curb her baby's need to be surrounded by water. And surprisingly, it worked.

But as her pregnancy progressed and her belly grew, so did her need to be in water. She'd be fine for a few weeks then suddenly there would be another fish tank incident (though luckily, Levi would stop her before she would even get her feet wet) and her boyfriend would rush her to the bathtub. Each time this happened, the amount of sessions and length of said sessions in the bath increased.

In all honesty, it probably wasn't good for her skin to lay in water so much, but considering this was a life or death situation for her and the baby, it was worth dealing with pruney skin.

It got to the point where it felt like most of her day was spent in the tub and the woman hated it.

Actually ended up convincing Levi to join her for some sessions and loved snuggling up to her boyfriend in the tub.

Honestly, it was something the human wanted to continue between them even after her pregnancy.

Levi had to keep a close eye on her for the remaining months, which was stressful for the otaku, who couldn't really indulge in his usual hobbies, knowing he'd get too absorbed and possibly miss it the moment she needs him.

Still, the demon took care of his Henry well.

Good End:

The woman so ready to birth this baby. MC was so tired of spending her days in the bath tub and being sore and pruney so when the day came, she was nervous, but relieved. She was about a week overdue when her water broke and she went into labor. Levi was a nervous wreck for a most of it, but MC was very patient with him, despite her pain.

After six and half hours of labor, MC held their baby boy in her arms. Levi just stared in wonder at his son. His son. Who would of thought this would ever happen? If you would have told him before he met MC that he'd be a dad someday, he would of said something was wrong with you. If you would of said it after they started dating, he would of told you there was no way MC would wanna give him such a gift.

But there he was, staring down at the son that MC spent hours pushing out and even almost drowned once, just to bring him into this world. This... MC really was amazing.

"Do you wanna hold him?" She smiled at her boyfriend, breaking his thoughts.

The man tensed up, but gave a shy nod.

His girlfriend explained how to hold the baby before setting their son in his arms and telling him to make small adjustments. Levi stared down at his child, who had his hair and MC's eyes. Heck, the little boy even had a tail just like his. The man started tearing up and the human laughed.

"Don't... I'm not crying, I swear..."

After reviewing some of the baby names they talked about, the couple decided on the name Kai.

Bad End:

MC was halfway through her seventh month when it happened. They had recently had another incident of the woman finding her way to the fish tank and had to adjust her bathing schedule again. Bad news: MC had to spend another two hours in the tub each day. Good news? The woman should be incident-free for another couple weeks.

This was why Levi felt it was okay to leave the house, something he rarely felt like doing. He used to never mind spending most of his time in his room. Before this pregnancy, it was his safe haven, where he retreated into in order to avoid all of his troubles and the judgement that he felt he got from the world. Since MC has been pregnant though, that has been the room she spent all her time in, especially since things got... complicated.

His room was no longer a safe place; on the contrary, it was where all of his stress and fears lied. He still powered through it most days for MC's sake, but on transition days where the pattern showed her to be safe, he'd leave the house to go to the comic book store (which also sold manga). He made sure his brothers would keep checking up on her while he was gone.

But they didn't. For a variety of reasons, none of this brothers checked in on her until it was too late. Lucifer was busy working in his study. Mammon left for his modeling gig. Satan was out plotting things with Mephisto. Asmo was in his room, talking on the phone with someone while he did his nails. Beel was in the kitchen, trying to cook dinner and fighting the urge to just eat the ingredients. Belphie was asleep.

Eventually, Beel made his way to Levi's room to check on MC and found her floating face-down in the fish tank. Levi didn't come home until an hour after she was found. He started heading to his room when Lucifer stopped him and called him into the living room. His heart sank when he entered and saw all his brothers sitting around the room. Asmo was crying. Mammon was pretending not to be. The rest of his brothers simply look depressed.

Apparently, MC skipped a bath time while he was gone. She was just so on edge and didn't want to force herself into the water yet. The baby did though. And now they are both gone.

And just like that, the third brother was alone again. Levi locked himself in his room for months after her death, not leaving for school or to even eat. His brothers brought his meals to his room, but he often needed encouragement to eat. The man just wanted to cave into himself and hide away from it all, but the one place he could hide was the same room the human he loved died in... because he wasn't there to comfort her and have her take her bath.

He was so utterly alone. No Henry. No baby. And he felt that he had no one to blame but himself.

Part 2 | Part 3

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me pregnant mc #obey me next gen

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nexyra · 3 years

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RWBY's Love Language - Part 2

Hello friend ! I'm back at it with a second part and whatever character I can think of ! (Among which best boy Oscar because he deserves it, and also more adults)

Let's go !

***

Oscar Pine

So ! While I love Oscar with my whole heart, honestly guessing his Love Language is no easy feat. One thing for sure : touch isn't is thing even if it's how everyone else chose to communicate their love.

I saw a post a while back detailing how Oscar is always putting his hands up as a barrier when he's scared or uncomfortable and that makes me cry a little instead but it's true TT. Anyway...

In the latest volumes we've got quite a bit of comforting Oscar-talks but I have to wonder how much of that is due to Ozpin's influence really. As a result I've decided to settle on... Acts of Service or Quality Time ! This is based on a few details : when people are upset with him in one shape or form, Oscar was always very eager to prove himself useful, give some aspect of concrete help (such as cooking a Casserole, ringing any bell ?). Plus I imagine that's the exact brand of help his Aunt would have needed most on a farm. Added to that, he always seems fairly happy to be included, be with the others no matter what's going on. Training ? Yay ! A movie with Jaune & Weiss ? Smiling puppy look. Fancy party ? Shenanigans together ! So yea, I love seeing my boy loved and hugged but please everyone settle for the loving he's most comfortable with <3

“She made a choice! A choice to put others before herself! So do I.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I thought you guys would appreciate a hot meal after... spending all day looking for me, apparently.”

“No, it's okay. These past few days, I've been scared of the same things you were. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be... me. But I did some thinking, and I do know that I want to do everything I can to help with whatever time I have left.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Ozpin

For our favorite immortal wizard aka not quite dead Headmaster... I think the answer is rather obvious. When you're so careful with your words, but also so fiercely devoted to humanity, Words of Affirmation is a must. Ozpin constantly does his best to calm, to reassure. He's good at controlling the conversation and getting people where he wants... Except he more often than not use it to make them think and help them reach an healing ore motivating conclusion. This man is so insisten on giving and cultivating hope, so painfully aware of just how much words can change... There's no doubt in my mind that it's through these very same words that he tries to fight the darkness in others' mind, even when they don't want to let themselves be persuaded. And with some help from the farmboi, Ozpin is gaining in honesty and earnestness. And that can only help in giving comfort.

But to be honest... If you offer him a hug I doubt he'd refuse, and he definitely deserves one. Also therapy. For Oscar too. Everyone in therapy 2k21.

“Ruby. I've made more mistakes than any man, woman, and child on this planet. But at this moment I would not consider your appointment to leader to be one of them. Do you?”

“It's not every day that friends are able to come together like this. Time has a way of testing our bonds, but it's nights like these that can help keep them stronger than ever. Nights like these are ones we'll never forget.”

“Don't worry, Mr. Arc. Your journey is far from over, and the same might be said for all of you. Unlocking your Semblance isn't the end. It can still grow and evolve. Providing you are willing to put in the work, who knows what could happen?”

- - - - - - - - - -

Emerald Sustrai

Now here I'm gonna go ahead and say that the way Emerald has been taught to express her love and the way SHE would rather preffered to be loved most likely do not align. At the side of someone like Cinder, and even Mercury who isn't exactly the most emotionally vulnerable person; the only brand of love that gets an easy pass is Acts of Service, and that's probably what Emerald is the most used to. I can go on a mission with you. I can help. We go right back to the "I can be useful" mentality and I'm not sure she's been shown any other way honestly. Let's be real though : if someone offered a hug or some gentle words ? She'd probably pout & fuss but I hardly doubt she'd object.

“I don't care about Salem! But I owe Cinder everything. You want to fight her that bad? Be my guest.”

“I just... Cinder was the only family I ever had. She cared about me, taught me things... But without her here, I don't know if what we're doing--”

“I've been working on my Semblance. I can help. I won't tell anybody.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Pyrrha Nikos

What's with everyone and dedicating their whole love toward just helping their teammates anyway they can ?! Stop ! But any way, you guessed it. I'm pretty sure one of Pyrrha's top way of showing love is Acts of Service, and nothing means quite as much to her as Quality Time. For someone who's been put on a pedestal and has a hard time relating to people; both touch and words can be a bit awkward. But if they're wrapped up neatly in a training session or semblance explanations ? Well that's already a more familiar area. Pyrrha gives her whole to her friends and those she cares about. And in exchange, if anyone can simply... be there and spend time with her... May it be at the ball or simply sitting in the courtyard... I'm sure our girl would be delighted.

“Jaune, you know if you ever need help, you can just ask.”

“I'm constantly surrounded by love and praise; but when you're placed on a pedestal like that for so long, you become separated from the people that put you there in the first place. But thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime.”

“I'll do it. If you believe this will help humanity, then I will become your Fall Maiden.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Qrow Branwen

If I say Gift Giving for the corvid, is someone gonna hit me ? Come on it's fun ! Okay, more seriously... I think this kind of love conversation is kind of a necessity for Qrow. With a semblance such as Bad Luck, making everything complicated... Qrow tries to keep his distance from those he cares about. And since he's an emotionally repressed (but caring) asshole on top of it... Well that kinda narrows down his option. You know what DOESN'T put anyone at risk but can still bring smiles on their face ? GIFTS. Shiny things, souvenirs from his missions all over the world to give to 2 smol nieces. Sounds safe right ? That said, as any good emotionally unavailable character in this show, I gotta say Qrow probably has a thing for helping out and making himself useful in relation to Oz, Tai or the rest of the inner circle. So you know what that means *whisper* Acts of Service.

That said ! When it comes to receiving some love back... Qrow probably likes everything he doesn't allow himself to have. Soft touches, loving & comforting words, spending time with a friend without his semblance making everything complicated... We know that's all he wants.

“You idiot. I know you didn't do this.”

“Look, pal, I'm not sure who you are, but you need to leave my niece alone.”

“No one wanted me... I was cursed... I gave my life to you because you gave me a place in this world... I thought I was finally doing some good...”

- - - - - - - - - -

Clover Ebi

And among our newbies (and gone too soon) friends we have Clover ! Clover was a very good contrast to our dusty old crow but also a great help. Kind-hearted, perceptive and honest; he knew just how to put Qrow's self-loathing in his place and push him to give himself some credit. He always had a nice word or a joke for everyone, and visibly the rock of the Ace Ops : an expert a keeping the moral up and the mood companiable. Evidently, Words of Affirmation was his expertise. Had things gone differently, I'm sure we'd have had time for many more earnest and helpful conversations with this teal-eyed fisherman.

“It's a good thing they had someone to look up to and get them through it. Not everyone is so lucky.”

“I meant deflect a compliment. Those kids wouldn't be where they are without you. You've had more of an effect on them than you realize.”

“We don't have to fight, friend.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Winter Schnee

And today in the "emotionally unavailable" category we have... Winter Schnee ! TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS PEOPLE ! Just - I would say look at Ruby but even she doesn't talk about her bad vibes... Nor does any of the "Words of Affirmation" peeps. Honestly what's wrong with y'all people ? Anyway Winter cares so much. Is it hidden behind professionalism and a stern *big sister* demeanour ? Sure. But it doesn't negate just how much she loves her closed ones. She's fiercely loyal, and even if she doesn't let her personal feelings get in the way of her duty and doing what needs to be done, no one is allowed to say she doesn't care. Countrary to Weiss, Winter doesn't seem as good nor as aware of the love that exists in simply *being* with people. Rather, she's dutiful and ready to help any way she can when given the chance. You guessed it, yet another Acts of Service kind of love... Maybe I'm doing this wrong XD. I'm on the fence about Words of Affirmation as well. Despite her standoffish looks, Winter has always been very open & reassuring during her discussions with Penny. But she's more stern when it comes to Weiss so I dunno x)

“I don't recall asking about your ranking, I'm asking how you've been. Are you eating properly? Have you taken up any hobbies? Are you making new friends?”

“You've grown up a bit, haven't you? You're not the little girl clinging to the family name anymore.”

“You can't just buy trust like everything else! You have to earn it!”

And that's it for Part 2 ! I might do some other characters if people suggest some but I don't have a pressing need to right now. I have many ideas of songs to apply to various characters however so that's prob what my next posts will consist of (or fun templates)

If anyone has tips to create RWBY gifs or links to download the eps in good quality I'll take it ! Good day everyone !

#rwby #oscar pine #emerald sustrai #ozpin #winter schnee #qrow branwen #clover ebi #pyrrha nikos #love language #fair game #love langauges

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crimeronan · 3 years

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Can you explain the appeal of Julian Blackthorn? This is a genuine question because I read the books and came away utterly bored by him and unconvinced of his moral greyness as opposed to like, Adam Parrish’s. He seemed so one dimensional to me but I want to know if I’m Wrong TM considering I tend to be very very biased toward my favourite characters and bored by the rest, and my favourites were Mark and Kieran. So maybe I just didn’t pay him enough attention??

it’s been a while since i wrote any earnest tsc meta but cringe culture is dead and the chance to infodump about my julian thoughts has me vibrating where i’m sitting so. yes okay.

technical stuff

(aka: things pertaining to How The Story Is Constructed)

cassandra clare’s characterization has become much stronger just in general since she first began writing the series like twenty years ago

perhaps most importantly: the more recent stuff i’ve read from her has involved characters who actually grow, change, and learn from their past mistakes

rather than repeating the same stupid decisions over and over again

and over and over and over some more

seriously take a shot every time someone in tmi miscommunicates or self-destructs in ways They Have Learned Not To Do for no real reason. u will die of alcohol poisoning

in tda this shines ESPECIALLY with the evolution of mark, kieran, and cristina’s relationship, but that’s a separate post

clare’s trademark is also the angsty traumatized jerkass love interest with a secret heart of gold

the woman is almost singlehandedly responsible for draco in leather pants and the proliferation of this kind of character type in fandom and teen lit. this isn’t a criticism it’s me marveling at how if you commit hard enough to a single trope you truly can change the world. follow your dreams

sad jackass with a heart of gold isn’t an Inherently Problematic Character Type

but poorly done it can lead to relationship dynamics in which one partner is constantly being hurt by and then forgiving the other despite them making no real effort to change, because they are narratively absolved due to being sad

(there’s a lot of this with earlier jace content. in some ways i think will was later created specifically to be a same-archetype protagonist who actually does get called on his shit and grow. that’s also another post)

also if all of your sexy male love interests are tortured jackasses with a heart of gold then people start calling you a one-trick pony

enter julian blackthorn!

from the very start everything about him is designed to be the INVERSE of the heart of gold jackass. which immediately makes him interesting just from a meta perspective

(mark and kieran are also both alternate angles on this time-honored archetype. mark gets the heart of gold and kieran gets the jackass and then they’re both much more deeply messy than that. yet another post)

julian is kind, self-sacrificing, empathetic, artistic, emotionally supportive, responsible, and favored by old grannies everywhere

so a completely nonthreatening milquetoast guy, right

immediately forgettable if you’re only here for the dramatic conflicts and shithead antics of clare’s other protags

except that he is A Mess

and that he has structured his priorities very carefully, and they are as selfless as you expect from The Hero (TM) but they are also Not Heroic (TM) and they do not align with the moral framework The Hero (TM) is supposed to use

moral ambiguity in characters always exists in relation to their narratives imo. you mention adam parrish - trc’s narrative already mucks around in different ethical shades of gray, and adam falls on the canon scale about where julian does on his canon scale. both more willing than the average pov character to do the ruthless thing or make the fucked-up choice if the ends justify the means; both with an intensely strong sense of internal priorities that they adhere to at all costs, both so unbelievably fucking down for murder; etc

i do think there are ways julian’s choices could have been pushed even further, but considering the number of readers who hate his guts already, i can see why clare opted not to go for the most controversial possible conflicts

so we’re flipping the narrative

instead of seeing this angsty bad boy and peeling back the layers of his trauma to find his heart of gold, we’re seeing the put-together selfless family man and peeling back the layers of his Responsibility Mask to expose the rotting husk underneath

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

THAT IS FUN AS FUCK

then when julian DOES lash out in hurtful, uncontrolled ways, he has significantly more narrative justification for it than most of clare’s protagonists (will elaborate in characterization thoughts)

julian is also interesting as fuck because of how his struggles allow for a more in-depth look at the failings of shadowhunter society, something that’s also sorely lacking in clare’s earlier work

his apparent amorality is simply the result of him making pragmatic and impossible choices because he has been faced with fucked-up ethical dilemmas since age 12 Because Society Has Failed Him

which opens the door for narrative exploration of how and why he’s been failed so badly & what needs to change

i also love that he has such a coldly calculated way of analyzing situations and allowing harm to occur when need be, bc a lot of clare’s early protagonists have such a bad case of Rush In And Get Myself Killed Because I’ve Got Feelings About Impulsive Heroism syndrome that i wanna push them in front of a truck

probably there’s other meta narrative stuff i could say but i’m stopping myself and moving on to character analysis

characterization stuff

(aka: reasons why i’m also attached to him in a vacuum)

i don’t read him as one-dimensional at all tbh

u may feel the narrative pushes “ruthless julian blackthorn” too much without delivering enough actual ruthless julian But i don’t think that’s the same as having only one dimension

from the get-go, the big question centered on julian is always “how far are you willing to go?” and the narrative pushes the stakes slowly higher and higher to continuously test julian’s “the price is always justified” mindset

he has a far more layered and realistic response to trauma than clare’s early protagonists - trauma affects every single aspect of his personality and how he conducts himself, and the effects vary depending on the circumstances

his conviction that he has to be the perfect parent to his siblings because they will fall apart if they see him show weakness?? rooted in how he feels like he’s fallen apart since losing the stable adult support he once relied upon

his willingness to hurt semi-innocent people, commit coldblooded murder, manipulate people using political leverage, allow harm to befall any stranger if it protects his family?? rooted in how he has already had to ask himself how much he’s willing to sacrifice, and how his family is his only source of stability when the world has never done Shit for him

his conviction that he has a darker heart than anyone else because he killed his possessed father, even though intellectually he knows he was saving his brother’s life?? rooted in having no means of processing this trauma and being unable to voice his feelings for fear of backlash from a deeply non-understanding society

the way he represses every single negative emotion he ever has, to the point where emma - his actual literal magic soulmate who can feel his emotions - is startled to find him hurting or angry?? once again all about how he has to be the perfect father or he’s failed completely

the way his anger is so totally disproportionate to different situations and the way his negative emotions can only come out in completely uncontrolled breaks?? all that repression baybey. this kid has not processed a single bad feeling in five years. every single real grievance and petty annoyance has been festering indefinitely inside him like a slowly spreading infection

julian’s arc involves him needing to get thru being his worst self to actually start to heal

as in, he has to actually learn to acknowledge his feelings, take care of himself, lean on his family, and let other people take some responsibility

he also has to learn that in his quest to be the perfect emotionally controlled authority figure, he has not actually learned how to control or deal with his emotions. like. At Fucking All. good god

the narrative setup is also about asking “how far are you willing to go?” until the answer is finally “not this far. not this far”

and once he reaches that point, he has to reevaluate everything about how he weighs his priorities and morals and plans, etc

(i also like that emma has a perpendicular arc in which she’s always the one tempering julian and telling him “no we can’t go that far” until she’s willing to do something horrific that he absolutely won’t and HE has to stop HER. very sexy)

it’s also just really nice to have a character who’s learned to relate so well to literally every single member of his family while still having a very detached ruthless interior consciousness. i have similar feelings about how adam teaches himself to love people, but with julian it’s spelled out more explicitly in canon & it’s a more central character theme

i’m sure i’m also forgetting stuff here but this post is long enough so i’m gonna say good enough

and like i said in the tags on my other post, there are things i’d personally write differently if it were my story - plot points i’d shift, character contrasts i’d up, themes i’d explore differently, pacing i’d adjust, etc. i have plenty of ways i could be nitpicky and editorial about the effectiveness of julian’s arc. but i also don’t feel like writing them out at the moment & none of my critiques on effectiveness have an impact on the core appeal of his character 2 me. he’s so fucking good

#replies #tsc #tda #julian blackthorn #meta #long post #ungodly long post.#shadowhunters #Anonymous

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willgrahymn · 4 years

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Crushing Fear

wow can you believe I’m posting one of my fics on tumblr? me neither.

Tags: prinxiety, love confessions, some point close after FWSA, flower language, some swearing, and light angst but mostly fluff (oh and I throw shade at Janus).

Summary: Virgil didn't even remember how long he had spent repressing his dumb crush, but with Thomas falling in love, it felt harder to ignore the feelings welling up in his chest. All he knew was that he couldn't admit it out loud. Luckily for him, Roman was a romantic who couldn't stand to let a chance at love go uninvited, even if he didn't always feel deserving of it.

Word count: 3334

I’ll reblog with ao3 link since I know tumblr is dumb about it :)

There were a lot of things Virgil loved about Roman. He loved the way Roman would push back his hair whenever he caught a glimpse of himself or felt nervous and he loved the way it always fell in his face again. He loved the way his eyes lit up when Virgil asked about a show or a musical he knew the prince liked. To be honest, it was hard to think of something he didn't love. Even things he once thought were annoying had become endearing to him.

It didn’t matter. He had a reputation to at least try to maintain, he’d already gone so damn soft around the others since the light sides and Thomas came to get him back and Roman made that sweet little speech in the darkness of his room.

“You make us better.” It was like a song he played on repeat. At the time, Roman was the last person he expected to convince him that this could be his home – his family – but somehow he did. He may have been a jerk early on, but maybe, Virgil thought, he really was a knight in shining armor. Roman was more like him than he once thought; using fake confidence to cover up insecurities was nothing new.

And now, years later, here he was lying in bed like a yearning gay fool with music that wasn’t loud enough to block out his thoughts. He figured his little crush would be something that he could just hide away until it wasn’t even there. That plan was failing horribly though, especially when Roman could steal his breath by just looking at him. He didn't know how to handle feelings that felt bigger than himself.

Would it be smart to try something now? Probably not. What would he even do? Roman always talked of big, grand gestures that could literally and figuratively sweep one off their feet. Virgil didn’t consider himself good at plenty of things, and wooing someone like he was in a movie happened to be on the list. The farthest he'd gotten with confrontation was making Thomas talk to Nico, all because he couldn't stand to see Roman so heartbroken. He could feel the darkness below his eyes lighten to that embarrassingly glittery purple at the memory of how proud Roman was.

But Roman was Creativity and had his own little kingdom in the imagination. Virgil was sure that if he wanted a boyfriend he could just make the man of his dreams who would do anything and everything for him without the slightest hesitation. It seemed existence wasn’t fair like that.

He could just barely hear a knock sounding at the door, Virgil's eyes immediately darting over to where the sound had come. He debated whether or not he should respond. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like his friends, but his same old avoidant tendencies from before never went away.

“Virgil?” Roman asked. His voice making Virgil freeze and want to melt away at the same time. “Are you awake?”

Fuck, shit, some other words Patton would disapprove of. What time was it? 1:30? He couldn’t blame Roman for assuming he was still out, especially since it was the truth not too long ago. He almost felt sorry for his sleep schedule, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. No matter how hard Logan tried to help he always found himself digging through the kitchen at 5 in the morning, and not because he was an early riser. He paused his music, hanging his headphones on his headboard. Listening to Sally’s Song for the 17th time could wait for later.

He heard Roman laugh, and it felt like roses.

“That’s alright. If anyone here knows anything about beauty sleep, it’s me. The glasses gays are insisting that I awaken the beast though, so you better at least have something on before I barge in.”

Virgil wasn’t sure if Roman was talking to himself or knew he was being heard. He just burrowed deeper under his covers. He didn't want Roman to find him awake and think he was ignoring him, even if it was kind of the truth.

The door creaked. It sounded like something from a shitty horror movie. The heavy footsteps didn’t make it any more calming either. Roman was never this quiet. He refused to open his eyes, even as his blanket was pulled away from his face. He couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as he felt cool air shock his skin.

“Awh, c’mon! I’m the actor here. Your eyes were closed too tight, for one thing,”

Virgil sighed, opening his eyes and squinting at the light. “I thought you were here to wake me up, not give me acting lessons.”

“Good morning to you too, Mourning Glory. It’s not my fault if you want to hide away all day, I’m just giving tips on being more realistic.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his lip to resist smiling. Wanting to stay calm as if he knew what he was doing.

“You’ve teased me about being a vampire before. Can’t I play the part?”

“Oh, trust me, you’re perfect for the role. Sadly for you, there are two very insistent Sides saying you have to be a real functioning part of the mind, so unless you want me to carry you out there and make a whole scene, you better come down on your own.”

Virgil sighed, rolling onto his back as his eyes adjusted to the light. The two stared at each other. Testing each other. Not getting out of bed never sounded more tempting.

He gave in, rambling. “Sure, okay, whatever.” He sighed, reaching out and taking hold of Roman’s hand, letting the prince pull him upright. Whether it was he or Roman who ended up bringing them so close was something he could stay up late thinking about later. Now wasn’t the time to focus on rough palms or scarred skin that he once bandaged up while cursing out the ever-so-reckless Roman for sneaking out on quests, leaving Virgil to hunt him down with nothing but adrenaline and a certain level of knowingness in his dread.

He tried to bite back a yawn. His eyes widening at the warm feeling of a hand pressed to his face, of a thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone. It wasn’t unwelcome, to be honest, he could probably fall back asleep just like this. He’d be okay waking up every morning if they were like this. If the romantic side offered it. If Virgil would allow himself to accept and experience it.

“How long have you been up?”

“Anywhere between 20 minutes to 2 hours. I don’t really know.”

Roman smiled, betraying the worried look in his eyes. It was probably just the effect of his room, that’s what Virgil hoped it was anyway. He tried not to show any disappointment when Roman’s hand fell to the bed.

“I’ll be down in a few,” Virgil continued, “just let me take care of my makeup first.”

Roman’s eyes trailed him as he got up and moved over towards his desk in the corner of the room, flicking on the light as he went by. Why is he fucking staring?

“While I’m here, I was wondering if you’d care to join me for a quest this evening? Or maybe we could throw a ball for the mind palace? I know it’s not your thing, but I thought it might be fun? Or y’know, something else more low-key.”

“Uh, yeah you know I’m not big on big things,” Virgil replied, looking over to the prince picking at a loose thread on the cuffs of his sleeves. “You know if you want to hang out you can just ask, you don't need some extravagant event going on to get me alone with you.”

Roman nodded, not seeming any calmer than before. Virgil's brows furrowed, worries flowed through him as if it were his blood. He didn't want to make Roman talk if he didn't want to, but god was it nerve-racking.

At the very least, it seemed like he wouldn't be putting on any more black eyeshadow to try and hide its changes.

Roman, on the other hand, decided not to question why the Side no longer seemed interested in putting his makeup on, and being grateful for the fact Virgil took advantage of the fact they could conjure themselves into different outfits rather than changing right then and there.

The two stayed there, an awkward silence taking over the room before a crash sounded from the living room.

“We should probably go.”

Virgil simply nodded, pulling his jacket tighter around as he followed Roman out of the room.

Luckily, the crash had only come from Patton knocking over a stack of DVDs, CDs, and a few other things. Another lost-glasses incident. It was a miracle nothing got broken.

The day itself would have felt completely normal if not for the fact Roman kept looking at him. Starting off as unsure as they did in his room, and slowly brightening like he had finally figured out a plothole in one of his stories. It was even more unsettling when he realized Roman was no longer there, vanished off to do god knows what.

So Virgil spent the next couple of hours trying to ignore the feeling of his fears eating him from the inside out like a moth to a sweater. He wouldn’t mind the holes if they didn’t leave him so uncomfortable. But then again, maybe that was fitting for his aesthetic. Torn-up shirts and jeans to pair with his torn-up emotions. At least he found solace in the darkness of his outfits.

It didn’t take long to get bored of the mundane mind palace.

Maybe I should take Roman up on that quest idea. He thought, his foot bounced, hanging over the side of the couch. Even if it wasn’t in his list of Shit Virgil Can Do Without Fucking Up, it was better than sitting around and waiting for nothing.

Virgil got up silently, giving a quick two-finger salute to Logan who had started reading some new detective novel before he sunk out. Appearing again before Roman’s door. Maybe he was just self-conscious, but it looked bigger than it was. Like behind it would be some hidden treasure that he finally reached.

It wasn’t entirely wrong. Roman was certainly someone to be treasured, even if he made mistakes. He just wished the other Sides would help him understand it.

He held his breath as he knocked, jolting back when it swung open almost instantly.

“You’re here!” Roman exclaimed, bouncing on his heels.

“Uh, yeah. I thought I’d take you up on your offer from earlier… if it’s still up, anyway.”

“Oh! Yeah, totally!” The prince tugged at his collar, not making eye contact. Virgil couldn’t help but smile slightly at the prince's giddiness. “I was just working on something if you’d care to see it?”

“You know I wanna see whatever you come up with, even if it’s some rewrite of Frozen.”

Roman bounced again, holding his hands out, palms up. He looked at Virgil with an emotion he couldn’t name, but it made him feel anxious in a good kind of way. Not anything like the dread he was used to. He placed his hands on Roman’s, and it wasn’t till they were sinking out and into the imagination that he realized it was the same kind of feeling from when Nico first texted Thomas about meeting up again. He held Roman’s hands a little tighter.

When he opened his eyes, they were surrounded by flowers.

“Woah…”

“Do you like it? I had to sneak into Logan’s room and borrow a few of his books.”

“I– yeah. It’s beautiful. And don’t worry, I won’t snitch.” He stepped away, wandering the circular little garden. He could only recognize so many. “Didn’t know you had a thing for landscaping.”

“I try my best. Honestly, I’m just happy neither of us has allergies.”

“Gosh, you’re such a dork.” Virgil laughed, petting the petals of a rose. Not paying attention to the way Roman watched him and shifted his weight every so often nor how warm his cheeks had become. “Do you know what any of them mean?”

“I do, but I think if I tell you, you’ll realize how predictable I am.”

“Go for it.”

“Well, roses are pretty well known. The red ones are anyway. Love, passion, romance, and courage. Things like that.” Roman said, walking closer. His boots clicking against the walkway’s pavement.

He stood close by yet just far enough for Virgil not to feel like he was being dissected under his gaze. It was an unreasonable thing to think after all the time they had spent becoming friends, he knew that. Yet part of him continued to scream that one day Roman would look at him and find out how horrible he thought himself to be and never want to be around him again. Maybe that was why he refused to confess just how much he liked Roman. It was a weight that crushed his chest every day yet made him feel dizzyingly light.

It was all too complicated.

“What about the purple ones?”

“It kind of varies by shade, but most of the time it’s about love at first sight or enchantment. A lot of the flowers here have to do with that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, should’ve been able to figure that one out myself.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s no matter, I just want to make sure you understand what they mean.” He looked to Virgil, again with that unnamed emotion. “You do get what I’m trying to say, right?”

For a moment, he hoped he did.

“Uh, yeah? Princey, I get it, you’re a hopeless romantic. You don’t have to spell it out for me.” He bit the inside of his lip, then asked. “What are they for?”

Roman looked at him with what he could only see as sympathy.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I really do think you need it spelled out.”

Virgil scoffed, going to argue before he was cut off.

“First,” Roman began, reaching for Virgil’s hand, “You take him by the hand. That’s as far as you got before we both started screaming, anyway. So I suppose I’ll just have to wing it from here. I know I haven’t always been the best to you. I know I still make mistakes, and I really don’t want this to be one of them.”

“Roman–”

“I’m not finished. Virgil, out of all the other’s, you’re always the one who notices when I’m upset. You’re always the one who lets me bitch about Deceit without saying I was wrong for trusting him and then wrong for not. Really, you’re the only one I can bitch about the dark sides to, period. Logan is so reserved about it, and Patton is, well, he’s Patton. He tries to see the good in everyone.”

Roman paused, catching his breath. Virgil thought it best not to speak. He didn’t think he’d even be able to if he wanted.

“What I’m getting is that I trust you. I trust you because you’re my best friend and you listen to what I say even if it’s dumb. Because when I don’t feel like talking you're always down to just watch classic Disney movies and fill in coloring books. I know you don't realize it, but you do a hell of a lot more good than you believe, and I love you for that. You don’t have to say it back or even feel the same, I know you’re pretty reluctant about it. I just need you to know.”

Virgil stared at him, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of love. Roman had said ‘I love you’ before, but not like this. What the fuck do you even do when your crush confesses they like you, more so, that you aren’t obligated to like them back? Complicated, and now surreal.

“You really mean it? All of it??”

“Of course I do, my Columbine Cutie! I could never lie to someone about love, I hope you know that.” Roman replied. Waving his hand as he conjured a mix of red and purple columbines, tucking them gently behind Virgil’s ear. Both knowing it was the truth, that Roman wouldn’t subject someone to such a thing because he knew how it felt.

But he still trusted Virgil with his love all the same. Trusted that it wouldn’t be taken advantage of or used against him.

“How long have you known?”

“You know, I think I fell for you far before I knew it.”

Virgil huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I uh… I think it was the same for me. Falling for you, that is.” God, it felt so weird to say it. Good, too. “I’m sorry I don’t know what to say. I never thought I’d end up here. I care about you too. I love you, I mean.”

And Roman… Roman just started to beam, shining like the sun as Virgil tripped over his words. He bounced, hands waving as he did. Despite his lingering fear, Virgil couldn’t stop the excitement Roman radiated and the wonder of it all from seeping in under his skin, a feeling like vibrations that he could only try to shake out. And there were hands cupping his face and there were words he didn’t hear. He still knew what they asked. “Fucking yes.” was all he could bring himself to give as a response before Roman’s lips were on his.

Strawberry chapstick and the faint scent of cherry blossom perfume were all that went through his head, it was the only thing that really could. He held onto Roman’s uniform like if he let go it would all disappear. Another dream reminding him of what he thought he couldn’t have.

When Roman pulled away and Virgil opened his eyes, he was still there.

He was real. Everything that had happened was real. He couldn’t help but giggle at how fantastical it was.

Roman brushed his bangs away, just enough to fully show his eyes. “Your eyeshadow changed again,” he announced, bouncing on his heels once again. Virgil groaned, turning away. “It’s a good look for you. Especially with how much you blush, my Lavender Love.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s adorable.”

Virgil knew from the grin on Roman’s face that it had only intensified.

“Whatever. I just– for what it’s worth– I appreciate it. All of this. I’d probably die never telling you shit about how I felt if you didn’t do it first.”

Roman softened, “Maybe, or maybe you’d end up pushing yourself like you did to Thomas. Either way, I’m happy with it if you are.”

Virgil nodded, the two going silent. Roman rocked back and forth still quietly bouncing, probably thinking of what to say next.

Slowly, Virgil opened his arms, smiling nervously to his crush– lover– whatever they were. He wasn’t all that open to touch, but Roman was so far off from everything else it didn’t matter. The prince smiled, pulling Virgil close to him and pressing a kiss to his magenta-colored hair.

“I’m happy to be your knight as long as you want me to be. Whatever it is that gets thrown our way, I’ll fight for you as you have for me. You deserve to shine every day like you are now.”

“Jesus, Princey. You already made your dramatic love declaration, but... thank you. I want you to be happy too.”

The two held each other, and for the moment, everything was okay. No dark sides, no fear, no challenging life debates. It was unescapable, of course, but it didn’t matter. They could survive and fight this hell of a world. They could make the other realize how lovable they were. Because they had each other.

#Sanders Sides #Prinxiety #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #prinxiety fic #your validation. hand it over SDLCVFH #ugh bye im gonna cry about this #Virgil's Volumes

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whisperingrockers · 4 years

Note

would u. i dunno. perhaps articulate some thots on toh infinity train au 😳 if u can

HM. i will do my best. but...i dont really know how to organize my thoughts. i guess i should probably just start with the characters and go from there, huh. also in this particular au these characters don’t actually take the place of tulip, lake, jesse, grace, etc- i think they’re all just there under different circumstances.

Luz

okay so we’ll start with Luz because. she’s the main character, y’know. very important. i think the catalyst that brings her to the train is her mother signing her up for Reality Check summer camp because as a creative it’s just! disheartening to have someone you love tell you that you’re not going to make it in this world if you don’t conform to what everyone else wants. so of course when a huge mysterious locomotive suddenly pulls up to the bus stop you KNOW luz gets on, no hesitation. after all, isn’t that something right out of a sci-fi adventure novel?

unlike tulip, luz is THRILLED to find herself on some unknowable train where each car is a new adventure just waiting to happen, where there are always new friends to make, new places to see, and tons of puzzles to solve? she’s made to feel like the protagonist right out one of her fave animes.

also, really important to note that her number is probably tied to how she relates to the other passengers on the train. i feel like there’s an overarching theme in the show about how luz is going through a lot of firsts when it comes to interpersonal relationships, especially friendships, so i wanted to keep that going in this au- i imagine her number goes up when she finds her friends tapes and convinces them to watch with her because this is obviously the easiest and most straightforward way to get to know them! (luz poppin that bad boy into a vcr player: this mama is ready for trauma!)

realized how wordy this is going to be LOL

Eda

hough so this is a human au also (i assume? infinity train world really do be existing in some limbo state of reality where your reflection can just up and ditch you). i see her as a jack of all trades, master of none type, with a lean towards perfumes and handmade soaps that she sells at fairs or farmers markets and also pickpocketing. i think she sees something that reminds her of the life she used to have/would have had before lilith [redacted because i do not know what she DID yet but on GOD we will have canon continuity] and that drives her to get on the next train headed anywhere.

her number is tied to how much she allows herself to open up; the more she uses her salesman cover to keep others at arms length, the higher her number goes, which is why it’s so important for her to team up with King and Luz; they help her open up and be more honest with herself.

King

king is actually a denizen of the train in this au; i love him too much to turn him into a real ass dog, so i wont. eda meets him in a car full of plush toys, which he refers to lovingly as his army of the damned. i almost want to hold off on writing up any more for him because i know there’s more to king’s character than meets the eye. still torn between eda trying to bring him off the train with her or having him realize that the whole TRAIN is HIS KINGDOM, and all its passengers loyal peons who need their mighty rulers HELP, for without him they would PERISH.

for now though eda sees him and is immediately like get over here (reaching emoji)

Willow

willow is a tough one for me because in all honesty having your longtime friend tell you out of the blue that they can’t be friends with you anymore would be enough to send me packing to the train, but with willow i think it’s less about amity and more about how the fallout between them affects her social and academic success. the frustration reaches a tipping point that has her running out of the classroom and finding the train.

and yes, willow is a very sensible, bright girl, but she was also SO ready to trick the principle and steal from the emperor for her friend so i don’t think getting on a mystery train is wholly out of the question for her, y’know?

There’s a lot about repression in the way willow deals with things generally, so her number is tied to passivity. the more she allows others to infringe on her personal boundaries to keep them placated, the higher her number goes. when she stands up for herself to others (sometimes even her friends!) the number goes up. willow x agency and clear limitations is my otp

Gus

gus was actually a SUPER easy one for me we know so much about him from the episodes he’s been in; he’s an overachiever, he’s passionate about what he loves, he’s a natural showman, and he is constantly pushing himself to be the best that he can be, all the time. the hustle doesn’t STOP for gus, and i...i...(tears up)

anyways, i think the thing that draws him to the train is getting suddenly ousted from the club he formed at school. he’s young, and having everyone you had assumed were your friends turn their back on you and throw you out of the space that you CREATED FOR THEM would be shocking to anyone, but it broke gus’ heart clean in two. after he’d picked his bag and himself up off the hallway floor, he’d left the building in a daze, not even realizing as he boarded the train door that had suddenly opened up in front of him until it was too late.

i’m actually going to go so far as to say that gus would likely be the one MOST interested in the truth of the train- he’d be asking the tough questions, like what is the purpose of the train? who made it and its technology? where does it exist that it can be both at his school and also speeding across a barren desert landscape at the same time? How does it create sentient lifeforms? the train helps him discover a new passion; journalism. he finds a journal that speaks to him as a friend and advisor in one of the trains, and he takes careful note of everything that happens to and around him. by the time he meets up with willow, he’s got so many ideas and theories that the other girl would have never thought to consider until that very moment.

idk what his number relates to because he’s perfect the way he is but if i had to take a shot in the dark it probably has something to do with finding somewhere he feels he can belong, as well as being able to mourn and let go of the people he’d considered his friends before he’d gotten on the train.

sorry this is so long i just have a lot of . gus feelings.

Amity ( + Edric + Emira )

lumping these whites together

okay so nobody wants to hear me talk about blight angst there are 800 posts about blight angst, so long story short the three siblings run away, get into an argument with each other, amity ditches them for the train while they’re asleep, and the twins panic and chase after her, determined to find her because in the end they’re all they’ve got.

‘next stop: amity blight’

i think it’d be a cool journey to see the three of them going from ‘we need to be together out of necessity’ to ‘we need to be together because we love each other, and that genuine support structure will pull us through when everything else fails.’ but in order for that to happen they all have to have their own journey, so at some point edric and emira finally get into a spat and that’s enough to get edric and emira stuck on opposite ends of a retracting bridge. send that mans to the BACK of the train.

emira: my greatest fear is being stuck with edric forever emira: (gets separated from edric) emira: haha wait please say psyche

amity’s number is definitely tied to her fear of failure, of not being enough for the people she holds closest to her- in this case her siblings, and then lilith, and then luz when they finally meet. when she acts without concern for what the people around her think and when she sticks up for what she knows is right, even when the majority is against her, her number goes down.

for ed and em im...i don’t want to think about their feelings because they’re supposed to be clowns but i am forced to consider that they may be jealous of their sisters independence. also separating them means they both have to take responsibility for all their own actions and choices, which is probably pretty new for the twins.

Lilith

im out of energy actually znzzzsnsz uh. estranged sister who sees something that reminds her of the relationship she used to have and she’s not actually as over it as she thought so the train....she..hghrg

#toh #the owl house

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bffsoobin · 3 years

Text

yeonjun x reader

requested by: @yeonjuncore (made this hurt extra special for you 😌)

tw//this is angsty!! cheating, swearing, mentions of sexual acts (no actual smut), etc!

⇒ twelve: “Don’t touch me. Your skin is poison.”

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

A nearby car rumbled down the street, severing the delicate silence you had cultivated within your apartment. As it revved up the hill, you glanced out the window lethargically, not bothering to remove yourself from the sunken comfort of your sofa. The muted television flashed in its variance of bold colors but offered no relief from the barrage going on inside your own mind.

You really should have known better. Should have seen the fallout coming a mile away, should have stopped fooling around with Yeonjun the first night you’d drunkenly made out in the dimly lit corner of a college bar, but you didn’t. Maybe you should have stopped it the first time he pushed his hand into your underwear while your roommate slept, or the first time you’d gone to return a set of movies he’d given you and ended up falling asleep in his bed. Instead, you’d let yourself become intoxicated by him and shatter the only friendship you’d ever cherished. It’d now been a week since your best friend and roommate had officially moved out, but the confrontation still bounced around your conscience like an annoyingly catchy pop song.

“I can’t fucking believe you!” She had seethed, storming through the apartment with fervor. “All this time, you’ve been fucking around with Yeonjun behind my back? I love him!” Tears had tracked down your face, unable to come up with any other response. You’d already tried apologizing even though you knew it was a lost cause. Helplessly, you watched her gather up as many of her belongings as she could find in one swoop. Her footsteps rattled the photos on the wall and side tables, shaking your bones in sync.

“Why did you do this to me?” The question hung above you like an interrogation light, burning into your eyes as she finally looked at you for the first time in days.

“I...I don’t know,” you had muttered, offering the shaky words with a tearful glance. Your best friend’s face, normally soft and round and full of love, stood stoic and sharp- completely unforgiving. You couldn’t blame her.

“Please,” she breathed, looking down at the ground as if to contain herself. You could see her lips shaking with the force of keeping in her sobs. “N-never speak to me again. And if that fucker comes here, tell him to lose my number. I trust you’ll get him the message once you’re done having his dick down your throat.” She shoved past you, rolling a suitcase she’d used on many joint vacations behind her on the wooden floors. Every thump of the wheel over a panel made you flinch. Once she had reached the door, she glanced at the table where you’d set down your keys every day after work. Upon the table was a simple photo of the two of you, cozied up at your high school graduation. She grasped the simple wooden frame between her fingers staring down at the photo with a wry smile on her lips. For a moment, you thought she would take the picture with her. The thought made you dizzy, a naïve part of your heart hoping that she would take it as a token of possible redemption for the years-long bond.

“Hey, Y/N?” Her voice was nasally from the crying, but still so familiar that despite the situation, you looked up at her earnestly. “Fuck you.” The photo dropped the the floor, bouncing off the floor with a harsh thud you were sure the neighbors downstairs heard loud and clear. You both stared at it, the plain backing facing the ceiling. In a millisecond, she slammed the heel of her sneaker into the back of the photo, shattering the delicate glass covering underneath the force. She had disappeared out the door not a second later.

The picture still laid in its exact same spot, face down next to the door that hadn’t been opened since she walked out. A few shards of glass had scattered dangerously into the living room, but you knew how to step over them all by now. In fact, nothing had really been touched since she left. The drawers in the kitchen and living room were still hanging wide open, gaping with the evidence of all the things she had taken away with her. You were living off of lukewarm hot pockets and bottled water, supplemented with the swigs of red wine you’d been saving for a party that will never happen. Sleeping in your room was no longer in the cards, as you would have to pass by the painfully empty room that she used to inhabit in neutral tones with splashes of color in the decor- a dichotomy that you never hesitated to tease her for. Your phone laid out of reach, cold and dead and nothing but a weight in your hand when you did pick it up.

Everything was half-full, missing a piece that you hadn’t lived without for years.

A loud succession of knocks threw you out of your stupor, bringing your thoughts to a halting stop they hadn’t in days. You had no idea who was bothering you, as the sweet older neighbor who was collecting your mail knew to simply leave it outside for you to grab at the wee hours of the night.

‘Who is it?” Foolishly, your heart raced with the hope that she had come back to allow you to patch things up.

“Jesus,” a familiar voice scoffed. “It’s me, Y/N.” Yeonjun. You imagined him posted on the other side of the door, one arm leaning him against the sturdy frame while the other knocked at the door. Glossy black hair falling into his eyes as he tried to catch a glimpse of you through the peephole. Slowly, you shuffled over to the door, skillfully avoiding a stray piece of glass, and unlocked the deadbolt. Yeonjun sighed in relief and mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch. The door was only open about a foot before he was pushing himself inside, wrapping both muscular arms around your shoulders. He buried his pointed nose into your neck, and the usually affectionate gesture made your stomach twist.

“God, don’t you ever answer your phone? I’ve been trying to reach you for days.” He held you at an arm’s length, frowning at your obviously unwashed hair and stained clothing.

“It’s off.”

“It’s off? Why the hell is it off? Someone might need you- shit, is that glass?” Yeonjun’s eyes widened at the shards you’d come to coexist with, dropping his hands from your arms to squat and examine the pieces further. Exhausted already, you plopped back into your couch indent with a sigh.

“Why are you here?”

“Because I was worried about you,” his eyes softened as he set down the few pieces of glass he’d recovered. His warm hands cradled your knees, the touch burning through the fabric of your sweats. “Because I knew that once she left, you’d be a mess. Because I know you aren’t taking care of yourself. Because-” he plopped himself down on the couch next to you, leaving no room between the two of you. A careful hand lifted, pushing strands of your greasy hair behind your ear with a delicacy you craved. “Because I love you.”

Your stomach lurched. Yeonjun loves you. Part of you knew that. You love him too. Or maybe you used to. Now the thought of him caused a tsunami of emotion, mixing the best moments of your life with the single worst. You loved each other, but what had it cost you?

“Yeonjun, I- I don’t,” your voice shattered, pricking even your own eardrums as your chest heaved with a cry you’d repressed for a while. For as long as you’d been grieving the loss of your best friend, you’d never cried over the Yeonjun of it all. Deep down, you knew you’d always had real feelings for him.

The first time your best friend introduced you to him, you felt the kind of magic that you thought only existed in movies. As the good best friend you once were, you tried to keep your distance and let your feelings simmer down. And then the night your friend fell sick even though the three of you had plans came around, and at her insistence, you and Yeonjun went together. In the dark, pulsing club you were hypnotized by how well he moved his hips and made an off-brand joke about wanting to feel them against yours. By the end of the night you were littered with hickeys and walking with a limp you had to play off for two days.

And for a while, you thought that was really all you’d be- drunk fumbles and hookups shrouded in mystery and shame- and then he’d taken you on a full fledged date. Pizza, beer, a slightly tipsy visit to an arcade; the whole nine yards of charming, and with no sex attached. That’s when you knew you craved more than just the feeling of his skin against yours. You had come to crave the experience of Yeonjun, the way he spoke and laughed and checked up on you after your hardest days at work.

Now, he cooed, cradling you to his broad chest with a reassuring hand on the back of your neck. The feeling of his skin made you repulsed, accumulating all of the times he’d laid a hand on you to work against your friend. All the times you’d let him touch you, knowing the likely consequences. You shrunk away from him, putting as much distance between the two of you as the couch would allow.

“Please don’t touch me,” you pleaded, hands shaking. He scrunched his aggravatingly perfect brows as you crossed your arms over yourself.

“Y/N, what do you mean? Are you hurt, is there something I can-”

“Stop, please,” you sigh, eyes wandering to the worn fluffy socks adorning your feet. There was an annoying thread that had been rubbing between your toes all day, and you could see it peeking out just enough now that you could try to pull it and maybe you would feel a little bit less uncomfortable in your own skin-

“Y/N?” Yeonjun ventured, trying to wade through whatever emotion you were presenting to him at the moment.

“Just please don’t touch me, Yeonjun. Your skin is poison. It’s poison and I got a taste of it and it fucked up the single best friendship I’d ever had. Your stupid fucking touch,” you hissed, watching him physically recoil. “It’s everything I have ever wanted, and I crave it all the fucking time. And you got me so addicted with all of our little secret touches that I didn’t realize the havoc they would bring into the world where you weren’t touching me because, fuck, I don’t know. I helped you cheat on my best friend? And for a while I didn’t feel bad about it, I was just too god damn busy thinking about your hands, and your mouth, and all of the touches. So please stop touching me.”

Stunned, Yeonjun sat the stillest you’d ever seen him on your couch. You were broken, and he had done the damage. While part of him wanted to blame it all on you, he knew that he’d ultimately been the one to stick his hands in your normal life and, well, poision it.

“I’m sorry.” His hand hovered awkwardly just inches away from you, longing to console you.

“‘Sokay. Just...leave? I’ll shoot you a text when I’m back up and running.”

With great hesitation, Yeonjun slid off the couch. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he hovered, waiting to see if you had anything else in you. If you had been able to muster the courage, you would have seen the tears rolling down his full cheeks.

With one hand on the door, Yeonjun finally spotted the photo from which the glass shards had come, and he picked it up warily. The last of the pieces scattered on the flooring, and he resisted the urge to clean them up. He knew that you’d get to it eventually. He steadied the frame back on the table and cleared his throat in lieu of a painful goodbye. The knob twisted noisily under his hand as he tried not to look back on your beat-down form.

“Yeonjun,” your voice waivered but kept him silent enough to hear a pin drop. “In case you were wondering- I love you too.”

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ac3id · 4 years

Text

Impius

pairings: yandere!demon!namjoon x student!reader

summary: you are a rebel in your school. your teachers, parents, and even friends are fed up of you tactics. but your mysterious English teacher has taken an unusual interest you and promises to you show you a new world. a world better than the one you live in. how can you say no?

warnings: gender neutral reader, oral sex(m receiving),reader is also a virgin, age-gap kinda cus like namjoon is a demon whos 83756834758 years old n reader is a senior in highschool lmaooo

word count: 2.7k

masterlist

Like any other demon, Kim Namjoon needed to feed on human souls to exist. He hit the jackpot when he started as a teacher in Borealis Convent private boarding school. An endless supply of pure, untainted souls awaited him.

In a school that taught faith and hope, a demon lurked and controlled it from its shadow. He charmed everyone he met, his attractiveness added to his strengths, he was invincible. He had everyone in the school bent to his will, he was the ruler and no one questioned him.

Students often went missing which caused worries among school but as the principal magnificently covered up the disappearance, no one ever asked. The principal was a greedy pig. He had formed a contract with Namjoon- money exchange of his soul--How ironic.

They all blindly followed him not knowing he is the vicious monster they feared so much.

He lived peacefully- everything he needed was presented to him, he had no fear of losing anything. Everything fit perfectly under his fist and honestly, it bored him. But just then, you came along.

You were different from the others and, you knew it. Even though you knew that your parents and peers despised you for you being yourself, living life the way you wanted, you never gave into their greedy demands. You chose to stay true to yourself, fighting for your way, refusing to turn into another mindless robot who lived to satisfy the monstrous society. You felt bad for the others who could not see the world in your perspective- you, really did but the others didn't even try to give sympathy to you, they labeled you as a disgrace, a disappointment, anything vile so it could break your spirit and turn you into a follower whose only purpose is to serve money-hungry demons.

That was the reason he took a liking you. You shined like a diamond. No matter how hard they pushed you into the ground you never broke. You always got right back up, walking past the others- you were amazing. He couldn't wait to devour your soul.

Your soul was pure, unstained with the hunger of ambition he thought you would be his best meal but soon that hunger grew into something darker. Soon, he found himself obsessed with you- he wanted you all to himself, away from the rest of the world where no one could hurt you.

You and Namjoon grew close, he understood you like no one else. He was kind, gentle, caring, and oh so hot. You often found yourself thinking about him before you drifted off to sleep and it didn't take long for you to realize you were harboring a crush on your English teacher.The thought of Namjoon dominating you tantalizing and appealing in all the ways it made your insides twist with pleasure.

The thought that he would never be yours often sent you into a frenzy, some so many people suited him better than you did and it drove you mad. You wanted to be with him but you knew it would never be possible. So, you concealed your feelings deep in your heart for no one else other than yourself to bear with the pain of one-sided love.

You sat on the concrete floor skipping through the pages of your novel humming to yourself. Absorbed in the world of fiction, you did not hear the swift angry clicking of heels behind you until you felt your book being grabbed out of your hands by force.

You turned around to see who had interrupted you from your peaceful endeavor. Turning around, you immediately regretted it. Looking down at you was Mrs.Lee, her face scrunched as radiated murderous rage. She pulled you up from your elbow steadying you straight as she glared at you,

"What are you doing here, L/N?" she snarled at you her teeth clenched and arms crossed. You internally rolled your eyes, "I was reading a book." sarcasm settled heavily on your tongue as you mocked her and it drove even madder.

"During my class?"

"Yes."

There was silence followed by Mrs.Lee skimming through the pages if your novel. "This book is banned from the campus, how did you get it?" she asked with repressed anger in her voice, you shrugged your shoulders and answered, " I don't know" Mrs.Lee pulled your hand and started dragging you towards the exit, she murmured how it was 'over for you' but as both of you were about to exit a familiar face appeared in front of you.

"Mrs.Lee," Namjoon greeted, you sighed internally feeling relieved since you knew he would save you from three months of detention.

"Mr.Kim! How nice to see you and would you look at this, L/N is skipping classes again." She pushed you in front of him, you looked down at the floor avoiding eye contact with the tall man as you tried not to burst in a fit of laughter. Namjoon smirked at the down at you as he saw you struggle. He sighed and turned back to Mrs.Lee, with faux disappointment in his eyes he spoke, "I see, L/N is troubling you again. They are indeed the problem child aren't they?"

"They are always skipping class and causing trouble and look at what they were reading here!" She handed the scandalous novel to him. He looked over the hard copy, immediately recognizing the genre.

"Erotica on school grounds? Seriously L/N?" He questioned, his voice sent shivers down your spine as he spoke with a grimace in his tone.

You don't look up from the floor as you feel his gaze linger on you. The urge to laugh which floated your mind minutes ago dies down when you recognize his disappointment in you.

"Mrs.Lee, please don't waste your time on them. You head back to your class, I'll deal with L/N."

Mrs.Lee hesitates for a second but obliges when she feels Namjoon's demonic stare burn her soul. She leaves you alone with Namjoon and takes her exit.

You still look down on the floor, unable to look up at the dark-haired man in front of you.

"Y/N," he starts. A hand comes down on your shoulder and you finally look up at. He's smirking down at you, the book next to his face, "Do you, actually understand this book?" He asks. You feel your face flush at his implications as you stare off into the distance, "Yes, I do." you answer sheepishly.

You hear him laugh, his finger falls beneath your chin as he pulls your face up forcing you to look at him. "Are you a virgin, Y/N?" He asks his eyes staring deep into your soul, searching for something. You flush harder, your mouth agape, you blurt out a response, "That's inappropriate!!" Namjoon's smirk returns slowly casting into a sinister grin.

"What's inappropriate, Y/N? I simply asked you a question."

The longer you stared into his beautiful brown eyes, the more you felt yourself get riled up.

"So will you answer my question?" He asks- no demands.

"Yes." You meekly whisper. "Follow me."

You feel your heart hammer against your chest as he leads you to his office. He sits you down on the sofa while taking a seat opposite to you.

"Where did you find this book, Y/N," He begins, he sits with his leg spread as he leans forward moving closer to you his elbows rests on his knees. The book was placed on the small coffee table between the two sofas.

"My senior lend it to me," you look down at the book to avoid meeting at Namjoon's gaze. The way he looked at you sent shivers down your spine, it was dangerous and alluring.

"I see. Tell me, Y/N, when you read this book who do you think of?"

"W-What?" you shutter, you feel the room get hotter as it became harder to breathe, Namjoon sat in front of you his brow quirked he repeated the question. "When you read this book, who do you think of? There must be someone you want to do these things with?" His voice is like silk, you could just listen to him speak for hours on end.

"I don't- why are you asking me this!?" You squeal your face flushed red you recall all the nights you had spent awake thinking about the contexts of the book but instead of the main characters- it was you and him.

"Hey c'mon, why are you getting so angsty? If you tell me you want, I'll tell you who I want." Namjoon shifts in his seat, he leans back on the sofa his arms crossed over his chest. The smirk still played on his lips and the look in his eyes was coy. You clear your throat and answer,

"Jimin, I like him." You lie.

You did like Jimin but, it was nowhere close to how you felt about Namjoon.

your hands fidget , and He observes with a raised eyebrow.

"Jimin?" He questions, he is aware that you're lying but he decides to play along.

His eyebrows knit together and he sighs, "Well that's a shame. You want to know who I want?" you nod.

"You."

His lips curl as he looks down at you. Your eyes are wide open as you try to process his words. You try to come ready with a response but he beats you to it. "You know you're a bad liar? I know you want me too. Come here."

"Sir,- We're not supposed to," you being but he simply smirks, arms crossed on his chest. "Well, who's going to stop us?"

holding your hips down to keep you positioned securely on his lap

your body jolts against his, a pleased smile spreads across his face, his breath fanned across your neck as he pulled you closer.

"Sir, I-.." you begin, but your voice betraying you and leaving you speechless as his lips continue to trail over your neck, kissing along your jawline and to your chest and collarbones, placing wet kisses on every inch. Your head automatically tilt backs, your body reacting to his sinful touch and allowing him better access. His lips were so warm, You melted into his touch and felt your heart start to beat faster. A soft moan escapes your lips, his ministrations making you slightly dizzy and lightheaded.

"Tell me Y/N, what do you want?" the words almost tickle against your skin, a mix of fear and excitement dances in your eyes, your stomach flips in giddy anticipation. He can't help the small dimpled smile tugging on the corners of his lips. His lips move to the crook of your neck, the eagerness growing as his lips suck and nibble on your skin to leave a mark behind, letting his tongue lick the sore areas afterward.

You let your hands run along his chest, a thin layer of sweat had formed on his chest. His shirt clings to his skin, grabbing around it, and while pulling his shirt over his head, your palms pressed against his broad pectorals, completely lost in the curves of his body.

You felt dirty, but you'd be lying if you didn't crave more.

His hot breaths blew across your neck, making him shiver, his presence clouding your senses. Your lips hovering over his.

"Sir, please kiss me," you whine. He looks down at you which his hand strokes your thigh. "Sir? It's Namjoon baby. Ask again." His hot breath falls on your lips and you beg again.

"Please, Namjoon, kiss me."

He complies and crashes his lips onto yours when you feel his warm lips on yours, your entire mind fogs up. Everything's a blur as you move your lips against each other, his hand slides slowly along your thigh and tracing the patterns of your leggings with his fingers.

The kiss is intimate and rough, filled with passion. Your lips parted as his tongue slipped into your mouth, deepening the kiss. Your body melting against him as his tongue tempted and teased yours, dominating your mouth. Your hands move to his hair, tugging at his hair making him moan into your mouth.

His hands rest on either side of your hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles on them, you could feel him growing hard under you, the feeling of his hardening bulge poking you was overwhelming. You held onto his shoulders and ground yourself against him, your hips moving against his. He was grinding with you at the same pace, lips still on yours as he let out low groans of satisfaction

he pulls away from you, your lips chasing after his.

"I want you on your knees, baby." He demands. Smirking down at you as you get down on your knees. He runs his tongue over his teeth, unzipping his pants and pushing them down to free his cock.

his dick lays against his stomach. He strokes himself, eyes boring into you as you crouch below him, eyes fixated on his length marveling at the sight

"I'll show you a new world, Y/N. Come here" he orders, motioning toward his bulge. "(c’mon baby, shoe me wat doze handz do lmao )"

Riding on the confidence from before, you reached out and gently gripped him at the base, pressing your thumb along the vein on the underside and relishing in the noises it draws out. You angle your wrist slightly so you can continue stroking the spot, while mentally making a note to yourself to remember it for future reference. You feet his hand in your hair, stroking, gripping ever so carefully.

His hand moved to cover yours, and he assists you in stroking your hand steadily pumping along his length.

"Like this, start slow." Your eyes widen in fascination, finding it impossible to form proper words, mouth watering the sight in front of you. Eyes trailing at the pre-cum leaking from the tip and licking it eagerly. Namjoon's strangled moan was all the encouragement you needed. You run your mouth around his dick while gazing up at his face-

"Fuck," swears escapes his plum lips, sending shivers down your spine. Gently letting go of your wrists as his eyes flutter close.

Namjoon's chest heaves as his breath quickens, eyes boring into you as your tongue darts out of your mouth, licking up from the base towards the tip getting his dick wet. You take him into your mouth and hollow your cheeks around him, tongue lapping around whatever it could reach. He starts thrusting forward, right down your throat, You immediately start to gag and place your hands on thighs to keep you steady. A thin glistening layer of sweat forms against his forehead. His breath was heavy and ragged, his chest huffing

you moaned around his cock, jaw aching, knees in agonizing pain, his hand gripping harder at your hair. "Fuck yeah baby, your mouth feels so fucking good," he pants.

You take him further and further into your mouth, his groans get louder and more frequent. Your grip tightens around his strong thigh, nails digging into his muscle enjoying watching the pleasure wash over his face.

"Fuck," Namjoon growls through gritted teeth, and rolls his hips up into your throat, thrusting his hips with horny, reckless abandon.— which makes his thigh muscles tense.

Namjoon pulls out deliberately. His heavy pants accompanied a silent cry as he cums hard onto your face, stifled breaths cut short with a deep moan calling out your name. Gripping your jaw still in one strong hand his cock twitching before thick strings of cum spurting out and splashing across your face. Dripping over your swollen lips and dribbling down your neck, decorating the blossoming bruises painted on the expanse of your chest.

"you look so fucking sexy with my cum on your face, baby,"

"Such a dirty little rebel," He says in a breathy voice that sent shivers down your spine.

you fell back on your heels, feeling exhausted. You went to wipe your face, but he stopped you. Namjoon dragged his thumb through the mess on your cheek, collecting his release and bringing it to your lips, you eagerly sucked and swallowed at the cum-slicked fingers, moaning for more.

"You want more? Such a greedy little thing," He teases,

your quivering hand reaches out to gently push a strand of damp hair away from his forehead. His half-lidded eyes study your entire face before slowly dipping down to connect his lips with yours in a kiss.

Namjoon kisses your lips a little softer this time. You sighed into the kiss, relaxing a bit. His thumb drew small circles against your cheek as a way of comforting you and telling you that you've done a good job.

bonus-

[a/n: listening to blood,sweat and tears and house of cards while writig do be hittin different]

let us know if u want more bangtan content here

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galaxysedginess · 4 years

Text

Crossroads

Ao3 link

Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze

3415 words

Sun glittered through the multicolored stained glass windows, creating long rainbow patterns that danced across the marble floor with heated consistency. There was no clock in the master bedroom, as strange as that may be, but Obi-Wan knew from the rising positioning of these reflections that mid-morning was approaching and as was the remainder of his life.

It sounded dramatic, but after months of denial following a few months of repressing that truth, but there were two diverging paths for Obi-Wan Kenobi. There was the path that was sculpted for him ever since he was recruited on the planet Stewjon at age 3. On it, he would become a Jedi knight and later a master, with time, patience, and training. He’d hope to train a padawan of his own someday and continue to serve and protect the galaxy. There was also the matter that he’d grown up a Jedi and knew nothing else but pushing towards that goal. He wanted to see the entire galaxy and do so along with his friends and family, who weren’t related to him by blood, but by purpose and destiny.

It was an honorable path and consisted of everything he ever knew and loved.

A soft snuffle startled him from his sleepless reverie. He glanced down to where Satine still lay with her head on his bare chest, fingers trailing aimlessly, caught somewhere between reality and dream. The bed beneath them was larger than he’d ever seen and significantly softer than anything they’d slept on over the past year, but still she curled against his side- even if the time to preserve warmth or ensure safety was over. However, Obi-Wan would never complain about being close to her.

The Jedi path contained almost everything he ever knew and loved.

The second path, at first, was not as clear as the other. He knew now with certainty that this was not because it was deemed less than in the grand scope of the force, but because it was one he had to open himself up to understanding. In his time with Satine, he’d discovered parts of himself that he never believed to exist. She evoked a range of emotions that he otherwise never would have experienced simply by her very existence. The primary facet of course being love, which he’d all but said to her the previous night.

He’d shown her rather than spoke of his love, as the final tennant of his code forbade it. That was not to say that the Jedi council would approve of the means at which he’d shown it, but he was resolute in his decision the moment they left her coronation banquet together. She’d been sure to ask him in between tangled silk sheets and seering kisses if what they were doing was okay.

They’d kissed in secret plenty of times during their year together. Most were chaste and quick, but others did drift well beyond the edges of propriety, but Obi-Wan (despite a panging sense of want that he’d never experienced before) never allowed them to go as far as he’d wanted because of the threat that always loomed around the corner. Even still, Satine never pushed. For as much as she questioned and debated the Jedi’s ideals and ethics, she always acknowledged their importance to Obi-Wan.

Something about her consideration and respect to his code only kindled the fire brighter within him and he’d answered with the only declaration he could give in clear conscience:

“Tonight, I’m yours.”

As someone who’d always been strongly encouraged against forming attachments and had been warned of the lustful temptations that could plague him in his youth, Obi-Wan expected to feel some level of guilt after his dalliance with the Duchess. Even after their glazed skin cooled from the embers of passion and Satine, herself, drifted into a peaceful sleep, he could only find contentment.

He feared this second path was one fully of self-fulfilled desire- that he would be ignoring a greater duty to the galaxy. Qui-Gon, while not privy to the more intimate details of his evolved relationship outside of the Jedi code, had still sensed his troubled thoughts.

“Meditate on your troubles, Obi-Wan. Only the force has the true answers of where and who we must be.” Qui-Gon sagely told him that morning.

So, before the coronation ball that required them for their final acts of service in regards to the Duchess, which was purely for show of gratitude more than anything, Obi-Wan spent several hours cross-legged and giving himself over to the serene flow of the force. During which, he felt as though he was in a spiritual tug of war. He could feel the weight of this crossroad and the effect it could have on the galaxy as a whole.

He was not so narcissistic to believe that the most fantastical events revolved around his choices, but he did understand that even the smallest of moments could hinder or transform a sequence of events. He sensed the potential of great purpose, of course, which was a Jedi’s truest call to action. While vague, it was obvious he would do much good in the galaxy as a Jedi, even if the overall emotion he sensed down that path was… Loss. However, there was also balance in that loss. Yes, the force sung with rightness when he leaned in this direction, promising a difficult life, but an influential and worthy one. It was a lot for one young padawan to take in all at once.

When he considered his second choice, he was surprised to find the same importance of duty as his Jedi path. He supposed this made sense, given should he be offered a stay on Mandalore, he would likely assist in rebuilding and strengthening their people. And yet, despite a localized sector, it seemed this good would be useful for more than just Mandalore and would outstretch to a galaxy of influence. Warmth flowed through him as he felt rather than saw, a montage of possibilities: peace, prosperity and… Children? He tried not to linger too long on them, but the image of Satine holding a baby in her arms flickered across his mind’s eye before he could even try and stop it.

He would forge a family should he stay. With Satine. Such possibilities held so much curiosity and wonder for him, for someone who never even blinked at the concept of parenthood before, that he briefly had to consider if he would be capable of such a task.

And yet, while overwhelming, he knew he would give his soul for them. They didn’t have names, faces, or heartbeats yet, but he understood in his bones that he would gladly give himself over entirely.

He’d exhaled deeply, determined not to let emotion guide his choice, and centered himself to align with what the force believed of such a path. To his shock, a wave of calm and peace flushed through him at once, giving off the belief that yes, this path was also correct. He would and could do good on Mandalore, beyond self-serving desires such as pursuing love.

Which meant, it was simply up to him.

At the time, Obi-Wan had scowled, resigned to the realization that this decision had not been made for him, before fluttering his eyes open to see none other than Satine staring down at him. He had been flustered, of course, having not heard her come in, and had instantly scrambled to his feet to meet her.

“I just came to inquire if you needed anything to wear for tonight,” She asked, even if they both knew she could have sent a servant to do so, “I managed to convince Qui-Gon to dress up, so if you choose not to, you will stick out.”

“What’s wrong with my robes?” He’d taken the bait as he always did.

“Would you like me to exclude mention of the blaster fire burns? I feel that might be too much of a low hanging fruit, if you ask me.”

This ignited a brief argument between the two of them that inevitably led to Obi-Wan giving in to whatever ensemble she’d surely already had picked out and Satine smiling broadly at his verbal defeat in a way that made his heart feel it might burst. She’d kissed him on the cheek then, swiftly but expertly, as she’d done so for the past couple of months, and then left him reeling on his own yet again with a terrifying thought for a Jedi.

I would leave for you.

Or, it should have been terrifying. The fact of the matter, was Obi-Wan only felt peace at the idea. He would say yes if she wanted him. It would be hard saying goodbye to his life as he knew it, but despite having only known her for a year, that same aching pull reflected in the thought of leaving her. And as the morning sun rose higher into the sky, dangerously approaching its peak, Obi-Wan felt that crossroad thrust upon him as he realized time was running out.

They were due to leave today. The council had commed Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon regarding an uprising in the mid rim that could benefit from Jedi mediation. When Qui-Gon announced their planned departure to Satine, she hadn’t so much as flinched, but did insist on seeing them off to part them with a proper Mandalorian farewell tribute.

As he regarded their discarded clothes on the floor, a small part of him resisted the idea of making a snarky comment on how other systems could truly start bidding goodbyes like Mandalorians. However, he was stopped at the thought that this might truly be goodbye.

He took in all of the details of her face for good measure- her smooth alabaster skin with pink undertones near her cheeks, the straight slope of her nose, thin pink lips drawn into a slight pout in sleep. Behind closed eyes he could picture visions of blue sea glass staring back at him with an intensity that would scare a weaker man back into space, but only strengthened Obi-Wan captivation with the Duchess.

As if she could sense she was being watched, Satine stirred slightly and peaked one eye open to test out the brightness of the room. Upon seeing him first, she nuzzled his chest and closed her eyes again, making a soft sound in the back of her throat.

“Good morning.” He said against her hair. He’d be a liar to say he didn’t relish in how sweetly she smelled like lilies.

“Why do I get the feeling you didn’t sleep?” She mused sleepily.

He didn’t, but even after falling into bed with her and having several hours afterwards to ruminate on his life going forward, Obi-Wan was not tired. If anything, he’d never been more alert.

Not wanting to put a damper on her day so early, he merely shrugged, “Need I remind you that I’m a Jedi and we don’t require the same amount of sleep?”

A half-truth.

“Last I checked, you were a padawan .” She still hadn’t opened her eyes fully, but tapped her fingers across his chest, “Much left to learn.”

“Hm,” He ran a hand up her spine, relishing in the shiver she tried to suppress, “I don’t recall you complaining much last night about my learning level.”

She snorted, but he could feel the flutter of her heart and she snuggled closer, “I didn’t say you weren’t a fast learner.”

He laughed, because she was never without a retort to one of his own rebukes, but couldn’t help noticing how painfully normal this warm scene felt. Satine felt it too, because he could sense her still beneath him, sudden melancholy and longing filling her heart.

She answered this growing sadness with a kiss- infused with as many feelings as she could express without words and he responded in kind and deepened the embrace. Despite the calm that had infused him with his careful consideration over the future, emotions bubbled and boiled to the surface- threatening to make their way to surface if not for the way Satine expertly kept his tongue quite busy.

It was only the hard knock at her large double doors that broke them apart accompanied by the announcement that the Jedi would be departing within the hour.

Reality could be delayed no longer.

It seemed it didn’t matter how many katas he practiced or how many walls he jumped, no exercise would prepare him properly for the act of kissing Satine. He wouldn’t admit it, but he quite liked that she exhausted him the way she did.

“Qui-Gon will come looking for me.” Obi-Wan breathed heavily.

“Yes, me as well.” She admitted without taking her eyes off of his. “Where will you go?”

“Haidoral Prime.” He said and leaned back on his forearms.

“And then?”

“I’m not sure.” He answered honestly, “Truthfully, Duchess, I’m having a difficult time processing any time lapsing beyond this moment.”

“Me neither,” She whispered and fondly tugged on his padawan braid. There was so much conflict in her eyes as she considered him in full, “You saved me, my heroic Jedi knight. Time and time again.”

His heart felt like it was plundering in his stomach. So, this would be their goodbye. He was confident they would have another one, under scrutinizing eyes and the masks they wore so well when they weren’t alone with each other. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how it would fit after a night like the previous one.

He laced their fingers together and kissed them, “The pleasure was all mine, my dear.”

At the second knock on the door, which was truthfully quite kind for her guards, they forced themselves to crawl out of bed and slip on their clothes. Obi-Wan did the respectful thing and prepared to climb out the window to spare them the lingering stares down the hall from any passerbys. Before he could even step a leg out, Satine grabbed him from the front of his tunics and kissed him again, this time almost pleadingly, and he once again saw that crossroad splitting just before him saying it was now or never.

Just then, clearer than ever, he saw crystalline glimpses of his two futures. One, where he was alone and old staring at a horizon with twin suns, a worn frown on his face as he gazed at a small farm with promising hope.

The other, he was somehow older than the first, but not alone. He was dancing with a woman, who smelled of lilies and sounded like the sweetest tune he’d ever heard, even while mocking his dance steps.

There was peace and purpose in both, but he knew just then what he wanted and perhaps, that had been the lesson at the core, that so long as he wasn’t rejecting or ignoring the greater purpose for the galaxy, that his own accounts and wants were valid too. So long as he served the force as the higher power that it was, that he could have… Peace.

And with that, he realized she would never ask him to stay, not unprompted, but not because she didn't want him, but because she loved him too much to ever do such a thing. He realized then that he loved her too much to make her ask.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in the market for a long-term protector, would you?” He asked, trying to inflict his on-brand sense of levity, but could still hear the vulnerability in his voice.

She startled, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” He breathed, “I love you and if you’ll have me,” And his heart sped up despite knowing with certainty where her feelings lay, “I would like to stay here with you.”

Her eyes widened in nearly comical shock as she stared back at him in disbelief. The longer she didn’t answer, the more he felt himself slowly crumbling apart. He would leave for her, without hesitation, but going back after a blatant rejection would be incredibly difficult for him, especially if he’d somehow misjudged this entire situation.

“But- the Jedi?” She spluttered and leaned back from him.

Her guards knocked a third time, “Duchess-”

“-Yes, one moment, please.” She answered firmly in a tone she’d practiced over the months to read, do not bother me again, thank you. And she turned back to Obi-Wan with doubt and confusion in her eyes, “You’re a Jedi.”

“Padawan.” He corrected, “You’ve certainly pointed that out enough.”

“But… Attachments.” She floundered.

“Jedi cannot have attachments.” He shifted in his feet, “And I respect that code, but should I stay, I would not be a Jedi any longer.”

She gaped, “I thought… You have dreams! And hopes! I can’t take you away from those. It would be selfish.”

“And it turns out,” He felt his cheeks reddening, “I can have many different dreams.”

“Obi-Wan, I need you to be logical. I mean, this is a huge decision.” She said adamantly, “One that if I have your order pegged correctly, you cannot go back on.”

“I assure you, it’s a choice that hasn’t been made lightly,” He swallowed, “And one that requires your sole agreement. I will not cross boundaries where I am unwanted. It’s not only against the Jedi way, but simply my way.”

“Of course I want you!” Her voice raised dramatically, echoing a bit off the walls and she paused, glancing back towards the doors where her guards and likely at this point, Qui-Gon, stood. Obi-Wan found he no longer cared for being judged. “I’ve been holding back because I know how much being a Jedi means to you and how much your code means to you. If this is solely about last night-”

“-It’s about last night and all the other nights before it.” He said, growing heated, “It’s about every night I’ve spent alongside you for the past year- whether it be huddling for warmth in the rain or sleeping back to back in the sweltering heat. Arguing in the middle of an onslaught or kissing wounds in secret. So, I assure you, Duchess, while last night was quite pleasant, it did not put me under a hypnotic spell that would knock me from my senses.”

“You sure know how to charm a girl,” She rolled her eyes, “Even in the midst of what is supposed to be a romantic moment, I’m guessing.”

“And what other way would you have it, Cyar’ika?” He sighed heavily, “If I could bestow you with a ring, I would.”

“Okay, if anyone is proposing marriage around here, it’s me!” She pointed at herself aggressively in a way that Obi-Wan found equal parts frustrating and extremely attractive.

“Then do it if you so please!” He said and then sagged a bit, “Or please notify me otherwise.”

“ Oh, Be’ni.” She said reverently, taking his face in her hands and fixing him with her most loving stare that he used to shy away from but only nuzzled closer to.

The one to whom I belong; the one who belongs to me.

He didn’t doubt for a minute that this was the derivation of her private nickname for him, though he’d never heard her formally admit it until now. He raised their joint hands and kissed her fingers again, never once breaking eye contact as he did his best to ebb away any of her doubts, to assure her that this was what he wanted, that she was enough for him to walk away from all of it, if she said so.

And that he’d be happy here.

“I want all of it.” He said resolutely, “And I am prepared to sacrifice what it is necessary to do so. I could never regret you.”

She gasped a little at that and leaned into his touch and in that moment, he didn’t see paths or visions or vague futures, but just her and the warm aura that surrounded her. The confidence, snarkiness, idealism that made up the person he loved dearly.

“I could never regret you either.” Tears were running down her cheeks when she nodded quickly and pressed her forehead to his: “ Stay with me, love me, Marry me.”

“Yes.” He brought his lips to hers, feeling quite emotional himself as the other path that he’d edged towards for so long faded away along with the future it held. He didn’t doubt there would be plenty of horizons to behold with Satine in his arms.

#obitine #Obi-Wan Kenobi #satine kryze #The Clone Wars #Star Wars #au canon divergence #myfics #excuse my shitty mando'a

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notebook-13 · 4 years

Text

Shigaraki • Development

Backstory

(Note: Tenko was Shigaraki’s childhood name.)

First things first: Shigaraki’s backstory is probably meant as an allegory. The house his father built is a microcosm of society, his father Kotaro represents people with power, Tenko represents people without it, and the other family members are bystanders. The power imbalance and communal emphasis on harmony enables Kotaro to take out his baggage on Tenko while Tenko is required to repress his. Resistance, even if it’s minor, causes Tenko to be shunned and beggared, as Kotaro locks Tenko out of the house in the backyard, in the dark, unfed, without even a roof over his head.

Edit: @codenamesazanka has an excellent reading of this allegory!

Theirs is a household that prioritizes unity and a façade of happy domesticity over Tenko’s wellbeing. His mom and grandparents treat him gently, reject him kindly, and refuse to admit to him just how terribly Kotaro treats him. Though the three adults understand that Kotaro is the problem (they criticize him in private or cry out futile protests during an incident), they are unwilling to disrespect Kotaro to Tenko’s face. Doing so would mean facing their victim and owning up to their own culpability, too.

So, throughout Shigaraki’s backstory, Horikoshi intersperses black panels with increasing grains of white. This references Shigaraki’s “wound in his heart.”

The first black panel appears when Tenko is crying to his mom, Nao, about his dad; the second appears when he is similarly comforted by his grandparents.

After an episode with Kotaro, Nao hesitantly asks Tenko if he still wants to be a hero.

Nao: “Tenko…do you…still want to be a hero?” Tenko: “Yup. Because like, nobody wanted to play with Mikkun and Tomo. So I said, ‘Let’s play together!’ And we played heroes, and it was super fun. And then Mikkun said, ‘You should be All Might, Ten.’ And I was nice and played with them even though they don’t have any friends.”

It’s hard to follow Tenko’s five-year-old’s logic here, but the gist seems like Tenko wants to be a good person who makes people less lonely, and he thinks heroes do that. The implication, then, could be that Tenko is lonely, and his admiration for heroes compensates for what’s missing in his family (a hero).

What’s also significant is that Tenko noticed Mikkun and Tomo were suffering, and instead of ignoring it or playing along like everyone else, he did something about it. What he emphasizes isn’t, “we played heroes and fought bad guys, it was really cool”; he emphasizes that he was kind, that he helped kids who were lonely. This isn’t a kid who wants to be a hero because heroes are strong.

Also worth noting that in bnha, p much every kid wants to be a hero. By forbidding Tenko from even playing, Kotaro draws a line between Tenko and his classmates: Tenko is not one of them. He’s not allowed to dream he’ll be a hero like everyone else. In a society overflowing with heroes (and with adulation of heroes), Tenko can’t be one of them nor admire them.

^^ the first “wound” panel is the black middle one

When Nao tells Tenko that “it’s hard to be a hero,” especially right after hesitantly asking him if he still wanted to be one, Tenko understands that she’s discouraging him—similar to how Inko apologized to little Deku when he asked her if he could become a hero without a quirk.

When Nao tells Tenko it’s difficult, she’s essentially repeating what Kotaro says (“being a hero will cause him nothing but trouble”). By siding with Kotaro, she tells Tenko that he can’t become who he wants to be. He must conform to authority and let Kotaro determine his life. What he wants and feels don’t matter. Kotaro is right.

The wound begins to open.

Similarly, his grandparents offer him empty comfort because they, too, believe in presenting a unified front. The kids aren’t allowed to be aware that there’s conflict between the grown-ups: rules are rules, instructions from your seniors are absolute, social harmony (and by extension, social hierarchy) has to be maintained. Tenko himself is the troublesome one—he’s the one who needs to be comforted, who keeps breaking rules, who can’t pretend everything is okay the same way everyone else can.

The wound opens further.

The initial wound and its exacerbation are both brought on by his mom and grandparents, not by Kotaro directly. Why? Because it’s the permissiveness of the adults that socializes Tenko in how to react to Kotaro. Kotaro’s abuse is too much for a five-year-old to process, so he trusts the other grown-ups in his life to understand it and tell him how to feel about it/what to do about it.

What they tell Tenko, implicitly, is that his pain doesn’t matter enough to do anything about, and it’s his fault it exists. Underneath, he recognizes this and resents them for it. They might not actively participate in Kotaro’s abuse, but they actively support him by trying to wipe away the consequences without any accountability for the problems. They shift blame to other people (Kotaro, Tenko) without owning up to their own role in the proceedings, so that they can pretend life is good and think of themselves as good people who don’t make trouble.

Tenko has a related “wound” associated directly with Kotaro.

((When Kotaro approaches Tenko to begin smacking him…))

The “itch.”

Tenko is five years old, and kids that young aren’t known for their emotional intelligence. This is his little-kid way of trying to describe his negative emotions: agitation, anguish, panic, frustration, aggression, resentment, desperation, (thwarted) hope, and so on.

Tenko scratches himself frantically because he doesn’t know how else to react to the things he’s feeling, and he doesn’t know how else to react because nobody is trying to help him sort through them. He’s only been told to suppress them. Plus, in adulthood, Shigaraki scratches himself when he’s stressed about something, so it makes sense for this ~allergy~ to be the origin.

I dunno why Tenko fixates on his face—his eyes, specifically…maybe out of shame? maybe because his face and eyes are what express his uncomfortable feelings, and/or because his eyes are what he uses to fruitlessly beg for help? or maybe the eyes out of a desire for blindness, to not see what’s in front of him the way everybody else pretends not to see?

(The irony, ofc, is that Kotaro is accusing Tenko of wanting to hurt their family, when in fact Kotaro is the one hurting their family.

Judging by how Nao and her parents approach Kotaro after the fact and tell him that they will leave if he hits the children again, I don’t think it was common for Kotaro to smack Tenko like this.

Also, this is the first time Tenko is shown scratching his neck: when his thoughts are crying out, help me!)

Tenko isn’t begging mercy from Kotaro, which says leagues about their relationship. Instead, he’s begging for interference from the rest of the family, for someone to stand up for him, to challenge the public humiliation Tenko regularly endures as Kotaro’s scapegoat. Nobody does, of course, like always.

It takes a few hours, locked out of the house, for the trauma to set in.

The wound gets worse…but this time it’s different.

For one, it’s accompanied by dialogue, not narration, and “everyone” is centered right in the core of his rage. The second (iffier) difference is that this time the wound and the itch coincide. In the previous situations, he’s either scratching himself or the wound is deepening. This is the first time Horikoshi depicts the two occurring simultaneously, and it’s this moment that his quirk fully awakens.

Tenko kills his dog and begins to have a panic attack. His emotions are choking him; the only way he can ask for help is to reach out to his sister, finally, in the way he didn’t dare to reach out while Kotaro was smacking him.

I’ve seen people suggest his voice fails as a side-effect of his quirk, but I think it’s trauma-related, not physical. For one, he still describes it as an “itch,” and for two, once he processes his trauma and decides that killing his family wasn’t a tragedy, Shigaraki’s characteristic squiggly speech bubbles are replaced by average speech bubbles.

This is consistent, so, his vocal problem was solved emotionally. So maybe his quirk was reacting to his emotions and placing pressure on his vocal chords? But idk, seems to me it was a psychosomatic problem.

Either way, he kills his sister as she runs away, and her scream attracts his mom and grandparents.

Then comes the fourth panel.

(For context, the narration refers to how his negative feelings towards his mom and grandparents accumulated.)

The whiteness is gushing forth, and it surges when Tenko sees his mom staring at him with terror, unable to summon a reassuring smile or any words of comfort for him.

The noises catch Kotaro’s attention. He pokes his head into the hall and walks through the empty house until he spots the open door to the backyard.

(Tenko has now transitioned to mainly scratching his neck instead of his face.)

Tenko reaches out to someone for the final time, and his (deadly) hand is rejected—smashed away, really.

Kotaro’s life is in danger, he’s shocked by the deaths of his family, he panics, and he reacts cruelly.

The tipping point is what happens afterwards.

Kotaro is surprised and horrified by what he’s done. But, like always, he stubbornly refuses to acknowledge to Tenko his wrongdoing. Instead, he reacts by doubling down and asserting his authority.

“Mommy, why does Father say no all the time? Does he hate me?!”

I’m not sure quite what Kotaro is doing here. At first I thought he was smacking Tenko, the way he did earlier that day, but that blob in the lower right panel is part of the background, not his hand in motion. So instead, it looks like Kotaro is holding out his hand in a “stop, stand back, stay away from me” gesture, or maybe to literally push Tenko away. (Have to wait on the anime, I guess.)

Regardless, Kotaro tells Tenko “no” for the last time. The immediate blame, the dearth of kindness or sympathy, the reaching out to him—someone’s trying to save him!—only to deny him…it evokes their history. Tenko is already in the midst of a meltdown, and now he snaps.

I hate bringing up real-world examples when thinking about stuff like bnha, so I hope this will be the only time I ever do it, but I’m powerfully reminded of a gun violence incident in Mississippi where a nine-year-old kid and his thirteen-year-old sister got into an argument over a video game controller, and the boy retrieved their parents’ gun from another room and shot her.

It’s ludicrous to think he had any meaningful concept of what he was doing, and, regardless of how Shigaraki interprets his past, the same holds for Tenko. Just because Tenko had a good “reason” to want Kotaro dead doesn’t imply he had a meaningful grasp of what he was doing. He killed Kotaro because he was a kid with access to a deadly weapon, and there’s a reason kids aren’t trusted with those.

But it is meaningful that Shigaraki struggles to make the distinction between aggression and murderous intent. AfO deliberately trains Shigaraki to adopt this warped mindset by telling him that his bad feelings, his “itch,” are equivalent to bloodlust. Realistically, there’re plenty of ways to relieve negative emotion, but Shigaraki has been taught exactly one outlet: destruction. So, he doesn’t realize that his murderousness is a product of nurture, not nature. (Also, lol, “murderousness” is a real word!)

Anyways, for the first time, Tenko experiences catharsis for the negative emotions that have built up his whole life. A fluke of fate enabled him to subvert the established power dynamic, and the destruction of the house encapsulates the collapse of their family’s hierarchy. He still doesn’t understand what he’s done.

By the next morning, it’s begun to sink in. He ran away from the house and then wanders the streets, too consumed by guilt to speak, and he’s ignored by everyone. When someone finally pays attention and seems willing to help him…

He smiles, happy that someone is finally going to help him. But his dirty, creepy smile scares the old lady off.

(reminds me of his early design.)

To him, it’s like people can see what he’s done, and that’s why nobody will help him or even acknowledge him. Notice the lower left corner: the blackness and white grains, spilling over from his wound.

The itch returns, and the scratching and the wound overlap again. It’s hard to say whether the wound is reacting to the old lady in general, or if it’s tied to the narration line “being punished.”

It occurs when Tenko simultaneously wants to be saved but also thinks he doesn’t deserve it, that everyone can see how bad he is and knows he doesn’t deserve help.

What did Shigaraki learn from this?

Social harmony is forged by repressing conflict, not by resolving it. This happens at his expense, purposefully.

“This is the house my father built.” Creation, construction, building, making walls, making rules, making—these are bad, and they’re performed by the people with authority and power. These things happen for other people, not for his sake.

He’s not important enough to be helped / not worthy of it, and he resents that.

Origin of his self-loathing.

Other notes:

The “itch” is something he can find temporary catharsis for (through violence), and Shigaraki thinks the itch might have gone away if someone had just helped him. The “wound” is not something that ever alleviates or that he suggests could have gone away.

The wound’s origin is from the complicity of his family to Kotaro, not from Kotaro himself.

It’s interesting that his dream to destroy society is a reenactment of his destruction of his family/house, even though killing “everyone” the first time devastated him.

He switched from mostly scratching his face to mostly scratching his throat.

Both these are sites where emotion is expressed.

Hands are another site of expression, and he later develops his fascination with his family’s hands and uses his own hands for destruction.

Activating decay seems to have hugely worsened the scarring around his eyes. He says that he thought the “itch” had gone away, so it’s unlikely he was scratching himself overnight…so I think his quirk had the side-effect of exacerbating his scars? If decay made the skin around his eyes hurt, that could relate to why he switched to mostly scratching his throat.

Even as a kid, Tenko had a certain amount of pride/dignity, enough to blame others for mistreating him instead of blaming purely himself.

Tenko admired heroes partly because his family lacked one, but when he discovers Nana…? Now someone inside the family (inside the house) was a hero, so the rules were different than what he thought?

Upbringing by AfO

When Tenko killed “everyone,” that included himself. All that’s left of him afterwards is an empty shell. He doesn’t even seem to remember what he’s done.

But AfO is willing to extend a hand and touch Tenko.

He’s willing to acknowledge Tenko’s pain, something nobody else was or is, at the moment in his life when Tenko feels he least deserves sympathy.

Now, obviously it’s hella suspicious that AfO already knows Tenko’s name, knows what he’s done, and procures his family’s hands, but Shigaraki doesn’t seem to question it. Tenko’s arms dangle there, limp, as AfO embraces him and tears stream down his face. And, ofc, AfO echoes All Might’s motto.

AfO takes Tenko in and tells him he’ll be his master from now on. Then…

Tenko viscerally remembers what he’s done, and his immediate reaction is to scratch himself, puke, and then seize the severed hands, gathering them up and cradling them close to him. It’s probably then that Tenko discovers the feeling that Shigaraki describes—of feeling violently ill but somehow at peace, too. (“When a person’s life starts spiraling, what’s the one thing they want? Comfort.”) There’s way too much to unpack here, so, moving on.

The “purpose” that AfO alludes to is the destruction of society/the status quo.

While Tenko is huddled on the ground, cradling the hands, AfO continues.

AfO’s the first person willing to talk to him about his itch as emotional instead of as an allergy. He tells Tenko point-blank that he cannot control his impulses and that his release must take the form of destruction.

This moment baffles me. AfO openly admits that Tenko’s feelings will fade…if left be. As far as we see, he doesn’t explain to Tenko why it’s important that those feelings never fade, why emptying himself of his pain is a bad thing. But even after being told time would heal him, Tenko keeps the hands close to him—and I don’t think he was just doing what AfO wanted.

This panel is also interesting because it definitely makes it look like Tenko’s wound is glowing, like it’s a light in the dark. Also, AfO’s dialogue nearly obscures the early panel of the wound…hm.

Regardless, AfO implies that those feelings are the most important thing Tenko has, and he should keep them close. It’s not specified if AfO told him to wear his family.

Later, Tenko’s wandering on the streets (his hands aren’t with him) when he encounters a duo of thugs, who beat and mock him. At first, Tenko lurches to fight back, but…

I think these are more “wound” panels: the blackness with white grains. He backs down, even though his rage doesn’t dissipate.

When he returns home, AfO encourages him to embrace his feelings instead of holding them back. Tenko literally writhes on the floor from the force of his “itch,” going all out as he wallows in his overwhelming feelings.

AfO tells Tenko that ethics were invented in order to suppress people and that Tenko’s emotions are more important than anything else. Tenko responds by reiterating what AfO told him: he wants to destroy those thugs, and he can’t control this urge to destroy. He goes as far as to disintegrate one of Kotaro’s hands, even though not too long ago he clung onto it.

But, later, he wears his family’s hands for the first time.

Wearing them clearly affects Tenko adversely—he’s struggling to breathe properly, and he’s entirely slumped over. But these hands, and these feelings, are the only things he has left, the only things he knows, and he won’t leave them behind.

He encounters the same duo of thugs and kills them.

His wound again. Formless, but with a sense of shifting and movement. Undiminished, even if the itch is alleviated. Or, maybe this panel is supposed to indicate a deterioration, like the wound gets even worse after the murders?

Observing the event, Ujiko remarks that he’d thought Tenko had lost his memories. I think he’s commenting on how Tenko is wearing the hands despite not remembering who they’re from?

AfO comments…

Tenko restrains quirk subconsciously, limiting its disintegration to just what he’s directly touching, which makes it seem like he’s afraid of his quirk and feels guilt/self-loathing for it. He’s aware that his quirk is connected to the things he feels, maybe even blames his quirk in some way for making him feel this way.

It’s ironic that Tenko feels free while he’s being throttled and restrained by the hands of his relatives.

lol AfO gives away the game a bit, here. He tells Tenko to do whatever he wants and not hold back, and then praises Tenko for “holding back” his tears. He just wants Tenko to have no way to vent his feelings except violence. Also, the fact that Tenko is “holding back” his quirk…hmm.

Again, too much here to unpack rn, so, moving on.

AfO gives Tenko the hands of the thugs he killed, plus one hand of unknown origin to replace the hand of Kotaro’s that Tenko destroyed. Shigaraki describes the gift as soothing to his battered body, and he felt reborn. AfO gives him the name Shigaraki Tomura ad implicitly positions himself as Shigaraki’s dad by telling Shigaraki that “Shigaraki” is his surname.

What did Shigaraki learn from this?

Morals are illusionary, merely a tool used to suppress people without power in order to make things easier for people who do have power.

His “itch” means bloodlust, and he can’t control it.

He should just do what he wants (except crying, apparently), or else he’ll just suffer indefinitely.

Rejection of a society he had no hand in making and no place to belong in.

Other notes:

Even without remembering his aggression towards Kotaro, it’s Kotaro’s hand he shows the biggest fixation on.

Shigaraki has three “ailments”: the itch (the agitation he feels from bad things), the wound (the “rage” and “frustration” he feels from bystander apathy), and the nausea he feels when he wears the hands (self-loathing?).

Or maybe the nausea is part of the wound?

More on the wound?

I wonder when Horikoshi decided on how to visualize Shigaraki’s pain, and if he uses it as a pattern in bnha.

I’ve noticed a few panels that remind me of Shigaraki’s wound, especially that amorphous panel after he kills those thugs, but it’s hard to tell if the backgrounds are just atmospheric or if there is actually an attempt to connect these moments thematically.

Here are a few that I noticed.

I’m going to keep an eye out ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Edit: here’s another one. This is the most definite example so far: it occurs in ch250, post-Shigaraki’s flashbacks, and the distinct circle doesn’t produce an atmosphere the way the previous ^^ panels do.

^^ it’s worth mentioning that this appears during Fuyumi’s narration, detailing how Natsuo is the only one in the family who can’t move forward, ie, he’s experiencing social pressure to conform and validate Endeavor similar to how Tenko felt pressure to conform to Kotaro’s authority.

And then this next one, I’m pretty unsure about, but I’ll include it in case:

#bnha #bnha meta #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki development #this is mostly me like…summarizing what happened with a bit of active analysis #sorry that the tone is so weird #I wrote this as ref material for myself bc I was sick of jumping between chapters trying to put things in chronological order #and I needed to organize my thoughts on stuff #though I got tired by the end #maybe I'll update it when I feel re-inspired #but anyways here it is if anybody else wants it #bnha manga spoilers #mla arc #no.13

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southeastasianists · 3 years

Link

Editor’s note: The following is a guest piece authored by LGBT+ advocacy group Heckin Unicorn on so-called conversion therapy in Singapore. It was not produced by Coconuts Singapore.

Sam embarked on a journey of self-discovery in his 20s. He had been through many abusive relationships, and for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp, he’d always felt that something was missing in his life. Sam wanted to get in tune with his emotions. He wanted to heal.

At 26, Sam flew to Japan to attend a spiritual workshop. The workshop’s exercise was simple, but intense: attendees were paired up, and for 3 hours, each pair had to stare meditatively into each other’s eyes. The poetic beauty in this exercise wasn’t lost to him: staring into the windows of another’s soul would help him get in touch with his own.

Yet for hours, nothing happened.

Then his sensei came over and gently touched his chest, or what spiritual practitioners called the “heart space”. And in a single stroke, Sam’s inner soul broke loose with an explosive force. He started shrieking — so uncontrollably, in fact, that he had to be restrained by several workshop attendees. Anguish, anger, and confusion raced through his mind. It was an excruciating 30 minutes of raw physical reaction, as if years of emotions ripped through his body. Yet it was nothing compared to what was about to hit him in the months to come.

Because in that moment, something clicked into place. Sam suddenly recalled that he was a victim of “conversion therapy” over a decade ago. He finally understood why he’d always felt that something was missing, and why he felt so strongly that he had to heal himself. Deeply repressed and harrowing memories came rushing back like an avalanche.

Sam fought to stay alive over the next 3 months. He suffered from hallucinations, and would cry inconsolably for days on end. He would vomit uncontrollably. His body burned in pain. He wanted to end the suffering. He wanted to end his life. But in between the painful outbreaks, Sam found the strength to fight for his survival. He knew that to live, he had to find out more about what had happened to him. He began researching extensively about “conversion therapy”, and the more he researched, the more he recalled the lost years of his adolescence.

Slowly, his memories fell into place.

Sam went through a lot at a young age. He learnt that he was gay while going through puberty. And through interactions with his closest family members, he learned that it was something he needed to get rid of.

When he came out to his mum at 13, she told him that she expects a grand funeral when she dies. It was her cold, indirect way of telling him that she expects him to bear children and grandchildren for her. When Sam turned to his aunt, she called him derogatory names and told him that people will not accept him if he continues to be gay. The message from his family was clear: turn straight, or else.

So at 15, Sam scoured the internet for answers about his sexuality. In the age of dial-up internet, genuine LGBTQ+ content was hard to come by. The information that he found about STDs scared him — HIV was still called the “gay virus” back then. Sam started getting desperate. He needed to find a way to turn straight.

And then he found a solution — or so he thought.

Sam began attending a “conversion therapy” programme offered by a local church when he was 15. It marketed itself as a counselling service that could help people who were “struggling with unwanted same-sex attraction”, and sounded exactly like what Sam was looking for. Even though he only signed up for their counselling services, he felt compelled to attend their church services as the years went by. His family never knew that he was participating in “conversion therapy” sessions; they were more concerned that he was converting from Taoism to Christianity.

Perhaps the scariest part about the “conversion therapy” programme was how, to 15-year-old Sam, it just felt right. Sam’s 1-on-1 sessions with his counsellor felt like normal counselling sessions. Sure, scripture was quoted a lot in their hour-long sessions, but to Sam — and anyone who desperately wanted to turn straight, for that matter — everything seemed to make sense. Because in a world full of rejection, the programme claimed to provide all the answers.

Sam’s memories about his counselling sessions are hazy, but their core message remains clear in his mind: you’ll go to hell if you’re gay. It was a powerful and terrifying message, and it fueled Sam’s desire to continue with the programme. He didn’t know back then that his sexual desires were innate and perfectly normal, so he confided his feelings with his counsellor and followed everything he was instructed to do. For a long time, everything he heard in his counselling sessions made him feel like turning straight was a real possibility.

Celibacy was a strong mandate of the “conversion therapy” programme. Sam’s counsellor told him many times that he would go to hell unless he stopped masturbating. He told Sam that it was wrong and sinful to have sexual desires. And as an impressionable teenager going through the peak of puberty, Sam absorbed and believed everything his counsellor told him.

Throughout his 4 years in the programme, Sam suppressed his desires and took things to the extreme. He would hold tightly onto his bed frame every night before going to bed to prevent himself from touching his body. It was a physically and mentally exhausting exercise, but Sam managed to push through every night for 6 consecutive months before he succumbed to his desires. He wouldn’t know this until years later, but this extreme psychological conditioning left him with a debilitating inability to touch himself.

In one church session, the pastor discouraged churchgoers from listening to secular music. Only Christian music should be allowed in their lives, the pastor declared. The next week, Sam brought his entire music CD collection to church, and watched it being burnt and destroyed. Sam was so enthralled by the programme’s promises that no physical coercion was required to get him to engage in such extreme activities. To him, listening to everything they say was the only way to not end up in hell.

There were a few reasons that ultimately made Sam leave the programme after 4 years. First of all, nothing worked. Sam knew that he was still gay, and that all he managed to do was to suppress his innate desires and convince himself that he isn’t worthy of love. He was also harassed by a cell group leader, but nothing seemed to be done about it after he raised this up to the church leadership. And in an attempt to negotiate some joy back into his life, Sam asked a church friend if God would accept him if he were to be in a loving gay relationship, but abstained from sex for life. The answer: an unequivocal no.

When Sam left the programme at 19, he wasn’t a changed man — he was broken. He left not because he realised that their teachings harmed his mental health, but because after 4 years of trying, he has resigned to his fate of going to hell.

Sam turns 38 this year. And in the last decade or so, he’s been to hell and back.

After spending thousands of dollars in medical scans, Sam was diagnosed with fibromyalgia. In simple terms, he experiences chronic physical pain induced by his extreme psychological trauma (side note: psychological trauma isn’t the only factor that could induce symptoms of fibromyalgia). These painful outbreaks aren’t just unpredictable, but also incurable. His chest would tighten and he would gasp for air; his face would twitch suddenly and uncontrollably; he would suffer from the inability to speak; he is often fatigued and would suffer from migraines.

Sam also faced considerable financial challenges over the last couple of decades. There were months when Sam was unable to get out of bed. His inner demons would take control, and he would find himself once again fighting for his life. Because of this, Sam had been in and out of jobs. This, coupled with his expensive medical treatment and therapies, set his finances back considerably.

It would be nice if we could end Sam’s story on a positive note. But the truth is that even though Sam is a fierce survivor, his experience with “conversion therapy” still affects him decades after the sessions have ended. Sam isn’t ready to date yet, because he thinks that he carries too much emotional baggage for any relationship to work. He continues to face difficulties fully accepting his sexuality, even though he understands that there’s nothing wrong with being gay. And he continues to sleep with his arms wide apart, because physical contact still makes his body burn in pain.

Let this be clear: “conversion therapy” practices exist in Singapore. Many of these programmes continue to showcase “success” cases without acknowledging, or perhaps understanding, how “conversion therapy” can irreparably damage a person’s psychological and physical wellbeing.

According to the United Nations, any attempt to change or suppress someone’s sexual orientation or gender identity is a form of “conversion therapy”. Many international psychiatric organisations have condemned “conversion therapy” practices because the medical consensus agrees that they not only don’t work, but could cause mental harm to participants (page 115). Taiwan has fully banned “conversion therapy” practices, while Germany has done so for minors. Other countries such as Canada, Israel, New Zealand, and the UK are considering legislation that would make them illegal.

Yet “conversion therapy” remains legal in Singapore. Many teenagers like Sam will continue to enrol in programmes that psychologically condition them to suppress their innate sexuality. Most of them would emerge from the programmes with their sexuality unchanged, but mental health deeply affected. Some of them will kill themselves.

#Southeast Asia #Singapore #Conversion Therapy #LGBTQIA Issues #LGBTQIA Rights #Christianity

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piyoduki · 4 years

Text

Hinata and Kamukura

(wow what a creative title)

Just a place for me to dump my thoughts on these two, and why they are so important to each other... This is another really long essay analysis thingy.

Spoiler warning for... everything. :p

1. Reserve Course

Hinata is an ordinary guy who loved and admired Hope’s Peak Academy. He loves talent, and wishes he could attain a talent and become someone recognised by society.

Hinata always calls himself normal, and says there’s nothing noteworthy about him. But unlike Naegi, Hinata was not satisfied with being normal. Hinata was obsessed with talent, because he believed he needed one to become someone he could be proud of, to be acknowledged by others. That was why he wanted to enter Hope’s Peak Academy so much.

(Horror game protagonist?)

DR’s society is one that puts talented individuals, the best of the best, above everyone else. SDR2 and DR3 give us a look at just how the other people in this world, the ones who were not chosen by Hope’s Peak Academy, feel. Hinata is the one who represents the hopes and despairs of the common people.

Hinata’s hopes about the school were quickly dashed when he realises just how they were treated in comparison to the Main Course students, aka the Ultimates. It’s also interesting that despite claiming to love the school, Hinata doesn’t actually know how the Reserve Course differs from the Main Course. It appears that Hinata believed that he would be able to get a talent and become an Ultimate even if he entered through the Reserve Course. Either the school hid the dark reality of the Reserve Course (which wouldn’t be surprising), or Hinata didn’t actually dig deeper in his research. Especially considering he did not even try to apply for the position of Ultimate Luck (he did not even know about that, actually), I believe that Hinata is someone who doesn’t like to confront his greatest fears or worries, and by choosing to remain ignorant, he can hold on to his rosy image of a school that can make his dreams come true.

Of course, he can’t be ignorant of the truth once he’s actually in the school. Already, he can see a clear difference in how they were treated. The Main Course students are allowed to move between schools easily, but he (and the other Reserve Course students) get beaten up just for trying to enter the building? When his friend and classmate gets murdered by another Reserve Course student, that student then gets murdered by a Main Course student... who never got any sort of punishment? Two Reserve Course students lost their lives and the Main Course student who committed the same grave crime got their crime covered up? (Off-topic but isn’t it weird that Komaeda gets expelled for property damage but Fuyuhiko gets no punishment for MURDER... are the yakuza that powerful? Or more like why does DR3 want to make fun of Komaeda so much?)

And those are just what we see on screen. There is clearly some animosity between Main and Reserve Course students given Hinata’s class seemed very annoyed and hostile towards Koizumi when she went to visit Sato. The whole atmosphere of the Reserve Course is gloomy and depressing, compared to the Main Course where they were skipping class, throwing parties and playing games... We can infer what other micro-aggressions and unfair treatment the Reserve Course students felt when compared to the Main Course.

I have seen some people say that Hinata went through with the Kamukura Project because he wanted to impress Nanami... which I strongly disagree with. If anything it looked like he wanted to avoid her because he knew she would try to stop him. Hinata was fed up with being treated like second-rate trash. Not to mention he already has the pressure of his parents having to pay high school fees (that the Main Course most likely didn’t need to, given there are a few students in debt), so dropping out would disappoint them (and Hinata is stubborn and doesn’t give up easily once he’s decided to stick to something). Natsumi dying was simply the last straw. When he’s given the chance to become the person he’s always dreamed of becoming, a person full of talent, at this point where Hinata was at his lowest, there isn’t anything holding him back anymore. He is no longer afraid of something going wrong, because he’d already seen his classmates DIE, and the perpetrator with an Ultimate talent got to walk away scot-free. If he doesn’t take this chance now, he might end up the same way.

And he most likely would have, given all 2375 Reserve Course students committed a mass suicide. 2357 people who were not even named, or treated as individuals, who were just lumped into one number without any identity beyond having no talent.

By deciding to take part in the Kamukura Project, Hinata was able to live.

2. Kamukura Izuru Project

Or not really, because Hinata got his memories and consciousness erased. Can walking around as an emotionless shell really be called ‘living’? Junko implied that some messed up stuff happened to Hinata during the process, and I don’t know much about brain surgery... but we can imagine it was very painful and not ethical. Like Junko said, in order to completely rewrite Hinata’s personality, the researchers would have to go through drastic measure to accomplish something like that.

When did Hinata stopped being Hinata and when did he become Kamukura? We don’t know. But Hinata could feel everything when he was still Hinata. The fear, anger, regrets, pain, isolation... the feeling when he starts to realise he’s becoming numb. The feeling when he realises he can’t remember certain things. Soon the time will come when he can’t even remember anything. And he doesn’t even care anymore, because his emotions had been repressed to such an extent. (Does he even need anaesthesia to be operated on if he doesn’t feel pain? Hmm.)

He is now called Kamukura Izuru by the scientists who created him. Just like the other Reserve Course students, Hinata’s identity was erased and discarded.

In V3′s UTDP, Kamukura introduces himself in this way, basically showing he doesn’t really feel like he has a sense of identity either.

Kamukura is the proud product of the scientists’ hard work. Yet he is a secret who cannot be shown to the world, not just yet. The school claims it is to protect such rare talent, that he would somehow be mankind’s saviour. But it would surely tarnish Hope’s Peak Academy’s reputation, if the rest of the world knew what kind of lengths they went through to create such artificial hope anyway. And who knows just how much more they could push Kamukura’s talents? If Junko didn’t take over the school and call out to him, who knows what would happen to Kamukura? Would they dispose of him once their success was recorded and it might be too dangerous to keep a human experiment around? Would they fear the very being that they had created, that could easily overpower them if he wanted to? Would Kamukura, who had no motivation or reason to live, even care if he were to get killed...?

Kamukura was locked up in a dark room with just a bed. We can assume he was only let out to undergo tests and such. He was given the bare minimum for survival, and because Kamukura had no motivations, he did not want or need anything else... but he was extremely bored. Kamukura’s whole life was confined to his empty room and the lab. He could definitely escape if he wanted to, but what point was there in leaving? He could predict everything that would happen. To him, the outside world was probably as boring as the world inside the lab, or at least not worth the effort of sneaking out or escaping. (Although he did sneak out once in the DR3 anthology... and as you might have guessed, he found it boring.)

Junko is the one who gave Kamukura a motivation. She promised him the thrills and excitement of a world filled with despair. Kamukura had nothing to lose by going along with her plans, and in the best case scenario she would be correct and perhaps he might just feel something through despair.

Despite being apathetic and having all the talents... Kamukura does want to feel something. Because nothing surprises him, because he can predict everything, because he doesn’t feel challenged by anything, because he finds everything boring, Kamukura wants to find that something that can make him feel. And Junko promised he could find it through despair.

So she puts him into the Student Council Killing Game where he just... stands around and watch them. It isn’t until the very end when a bullet grazes his cheek where he gets somewhat surprised, and kills the student in self defence.

Junko uses him as a scapegoat to blame the killing of the student council on, and Kamukura starts to show signs of annoyance at being used. Eventually Junko kills Nanami, and Hinata’s subconscious reacts to the death of yet another of his friends, causing Kamukura to tear up. Although he is confused by the reaction, he holds on to her hairpin as a reminder. Hinata was still not truly gone, and he caused Kamukura to feel the most emotion he had felt in his short years of existence.

In UDG, Kamukura aggressively rips out Junko’s AI in annoyance, showing that he isn’t truly emotionless and he does dislike being used in such a matter. It’s also possible he was disappointed as despair did not really make him feel much. Still he goes along with her plan to infect the NWP and turn it into a killing game, but mostly to use it as a final showdown between hope and despair.

I say ‘final’, because the two options would both lead to Kamukura being erased and replaced by a different person.

3. Neo World Program and the Virtual Killing Game

Kamukura knew that he would not be able to take part in SDR2′s killing game, and told Komaeda that in Chapter 0. He knew that his previous self (Hinata) would be used as the avatar, so once again he could only watch from afar (was he even conscious?).

Kamukura went in knowing that if the rehabilitation of the Remnants of Despair was a success, then Hinata would live on as Hinata, and his memories and identity of Kamukura Izuru might be suppressed and erased (sound familiar?). If Junko’s plan succeeded, then she would upload her AI into all of the Remnant’s bodies and continue spreading despair.

Kamukura, before that point, had barely found a reason to live. But it still wasn’t strong enough to convince him. So if he were going to die, then at the very least he wanted to see if hope or despair could really excite him. If not, then at that point, would there be anything that could make him feel anything? Perhaps nothing would change even if he were to disappear. If he were to just keep being used by others to achieve such a boring, predictable hope or despair, then maybe he didn’t mind just dying. Perhaps, since death is what made him able to feel something, by putting himself in such a situation, he might even feel the fear of death itself?

And so Kamukura Izuru hijacked the NWP and Hinata Hajime was pulled out from the deepest recesses of his mind, and was able to live in the NWP.

But this Hinata isn’t the Hinata that is all too aware of the reality of being a talentless person in a world loved by talent. This Hinata is a fellow student in a class full of Ultimates. SDR2′s Hinata wanted to believe that he has a talent. When he sees the rest of the students, how they act, how some of them got to the school of his dreams through something like luck? Helped by Komaeda’s supportive words, Hinata believes that he must have just forgotten his talent due to the shock of suddenly waking up on a deserted island. Not to mention his memory of entering the school felt fuzzy in the first place, so it must be true. Since he was surrounded by Ultimates, he had to have one too.

That’s why, in SDR2, Hinata presents himself as a person who is more confident in himself. He sees himself as an equal to all the Ultimates, compared to Komaeda who clearly views himself as beneath the others. Hinata is able to feel comfortable making sarcastic remarks and comments about the others, because he believes he is just like them. But as the game progresses, Hinata starts to doubt himself. In Chapter 3, he starts to have some hazy memories that he tried to suppress.

It’s possible that he might have contracted the Despair Disease from Tsumiki and was starting to remember his past, before he entered Hope’s Peak Academy. Either way, as usual, Hinata continues to ignore his problems and negative thoughts.

When he hears about the traitor, while he did not want to believe it, he started to think it might be him. After all, he was the only one here who did not remember their talent. If he forgot something so important, perhaps it’s possible that he forgot he was the traitor as well. Despite his attempts to fit in with everyone, Hinata still felt left out from the others.

But Hinata continued to believe he was not the traitor, that his talent would come to him eventually, because he didn’t want to face what would happen IF he were the traitor. In Chapter 4, he reacts negatively to Komaeda and Souda suspecting him of being the traitor. He started acting more depressed and impulsive, not helped by the fact he had gone without food and being trapped in the Funhouse for a few days. Not to mention, he was the one who pushed everyone to go to the Funhouse so they could find the truth of their missing memories, in other words his talent.

Hinata became desperate, when he heard that there was a chance he might find out the truth through the Final Dead Room, he was ready to risk his life and go inside, but Nanami stopped him just in time. It’s very possible Nanami knew about his past to be better equipped to help him in his recovery. Or at the very least, it’s likely she knew he did not have a talent, and did not want him to get hurt if he found out the truth.

Unfortunately for them, Komaeda does get access to the secret files by playing roulette at Komaeda-level difficulty. Besides the details about them being Ultimate Despair, Komaeda also finds out the true talents of the Imposter and Hinata, which he promptly rubs in Hinata’s face probably in an attempt to make himself feel better about being the very embodiment of what he hates.

Hinata is shocked and in denial about it for a short while, because it came so suddenly, and from Komaeda, no less. But he could not run away from the truth forever. He should have expected it, being the only one who did not know his talent was just too suspicious. He should know better than anyone, how much he wanted a talent, how much importance he placed on talent. Forgetting was just a convenient excuse to make himself feel better. But that did not make it hurt any less. He was a fraud, a nobody, and this reality crushed Hinata’s fake confidence. The act he put up around the class crumbled. Komaeda constantly bringing up his lack of talent, mocking and insulting him did not help. But he had a murder to solve, and a genocidal Komaeda to deal with the next chapter. Hinata had no time to mope about and take it all in, he had to keep fighting for his survival.

Hinata had already lost hope when he found out about his lack of talent, but Komaeda starts tp be more aggressive in trying to expose the traitor’s identity. And once again Hinata starts to wonder if he were actually the traitor.

Komaeda gave them no time to rest and immediately told the remaining students about his plan to blow up the island. So they worked together to stop him, and found his gruesome dead body, and worked to find the murderer.

In the middle of the investigation, we once again see how pained Hinata felt when he confirms that he was in fact a talentless Reserve Course student.

“Why... why am I here with the other Ultimates?”

Eventually, they find out Komaeda’s death was not just a simple suicide, and they found out Komaeda’s true plan was to expose the traitor and execute them (which they later found was the exact opposite of what he wanted). Because Hinata knew Komaeda’s true personality, he knew that Komaeda wouldn’t die in such a meaningless way, so Hinata suspected there had to be something more to his death. Hinata was forced to expose Nanami as the traitor, through Monomi’s diary that included that moment that only Nanami should know about... Nanami, who noticed he was feeling anxious and being suspected of being the traitor, who left her group to find him because she was worried for him, who convinced him not to take the risk and leave the Final Dead Room, who told him not to listen to Komaeda mocking him.

Also, when Hinata saw that scene in the diary, he pretended not to acknowledge it and thought he shouldn’t bring it up to Nanami, because he wanted to avoid a potential problem once again, until he was forced to confront it in the trial.

With both Komaeda and Nanami gone, Hinata and the others are left exhausted and empty. But the time was up, and they could finally leave...? Even if Hinata wanted to completely give up now, the doors to freedom were (supposedly) finally open and it would be a waste not to at least give it a look.

A tired Hinata enters the mysterious Future Foundation building, and slowly pieces together the truth behind this killing game. In the final trial, we finally learn about Hinata’s backstory through Junko happily telling him that he is not merely a talentless Reserve Course student, but also a human experiment and his real self is no longer the same person standing in the class trial. The Future Foundation members are also shocked that Hinata and Kamukura were apparently the same person. Hinata’s first reaction is understandably denial, who would believe that they would go through something so messed up for the sake of hope and talent? Especially after Junko adds that Kamukura was the one who killed the student council members and kickstarted the tragedy.

But the seeds of doubt were already planted into Hinata. Junko easily uses Hinata’s fears to deter him from going along with the Forced Shutdown sequence. After all, by going through with it, he and the others would lose their memories of the virtual killing game, meaning he would go back to being Kamukura Izuru. For Hinata, this means that he would cease to exist. Again.

Junko brings up the fact that the Future Foundation want them to do the Forced Shutdown for their own desires, wanting to stop her from taking over the world, but is it really worth the cost of sacrificing their own lives and memories?

Hinata has a breakdown because how is he supposed to choose? Between sacrificing himself or saving the world, just because some people say so? He is afraid. He doesn’t want to disappear. He suddenly got put into this spot where the only choices are to die or destroy the world. Both Junko and the Future Foundation are only thinking of their own goals. The Future Foundation might give false reassurance that everything will be fine even if they go back to being Ultimate Despair, but will it really? They conveniently don’t bring up the fact that Hinata won’t even exist anymore in an attempt to convince them to go along with their plan to defeat Junko. As Junko mentioned, do these people even care about him and the others?

Hinata refuses to choose, because he cannot handle it anymore. The burden is too great, and Hinata would rather just give up. Once again, he is unable to face his issues head on and chooses to avoid them.

Hinata imagines an ending where the class is happy and back on Jabberwock Island. But Nanami snaps him out of it and confronts him. Hinata tells him his worries, tells him that he wants to give up, and adds that if they go through with the Forced Shutdown, everyone would forget about her too. Nanami tells him that no matter what, the future she and everyone fought for would still remain, and that Hinata should believe in himself and stop being so indecisive. Nanami tells him that they are the only ones who can decide their own future, and if they can’t choose one of the two options, to create their own future.

Hinata confronts his impression of Kamukura, or rather, his own negative feelings projected onto Kamukura’s avatar. His feelings of being talentless, being useless, being unable to change anything, being betrayed, his denial of being Kamukura Izuru. Hinata finally faces his own feelings head on and realises how uncool he is to act like that and keep moping about.

Thanks to Nanami’s encouragement, Hinata was able to overcome his feelings and awaken. Finally, Hinata has stopped running away and has decided to fight for a new future. He says that he is not Kamukura Izuru, but Hinata Hajime, and argues that they don’t have to stick to the two choices presented to them, that they can and will create their own future that they can be proud of. Hinata convinces the other survivors to do the same, and they go through with the Forced Shutdown sequence. Usami appears and defeats Junko, and the survivors wake up from the NWP.

3.5. World Destroyer

This technically happened before DR3, so I’ll put this here. With Kamukura’s talents, Hinata was able to create the AI of World Destroyer, who was given Kamukura’s personality to be as efficient and ruthless in his job as possible. And he was modelled after Hinata’s avatar because... well there are a lot of theories, but personally I think it’s because Kamukura’s hair physics would be a bigger pain to work with then Hinata’s short hair.

Okay that was a joke, but my interpretation the reason is that they wanted to pick someone who is distant from the other students, so that they wouldn’t get too attached or get emotionally hurt when WD shoots them and wakes them up. So they went with Hinata since the students won’t have any memories of him before the killing game (which seems to be where their minds are trapped within).

It’s possible that Hinata might sometimes feel as if he were not truly a part of the class, as everyone except him shared some memories of their time in Hope’s Peak Academy or being Remnants of Despair (that they may or may not have regained). We already know he thinks that he is different from everyone else. Not to mention, he might have also felt responsible for causing them to die in the NWP since it was Kamukura who injected Junko’s AI into it, so he tried to wake them from their coma.

Hinata (and Kamukura) had to shoulder the huge burden of saving these people, with the hopes of all the other survivors resting on him. Did he think, he was the only one who could do something like that? With all these talents, he could finally be of use to his friends? Despite people like Nanami constantly telling him that it’s okay not to have a talent, it’s only because he became Kamukura, that he obtained all this talent, that he was able to bring everyone back to life.

Having to deal with the pressure that you will be responsible for all these people’s lives, knowing that it’s your fault but not really that they ended up like this, having to deal with living the rest of your life with another person in your mind, knowing that you finally got what you always wanted but you caused so many people and yourself so much pain... That is something only Hinata Hajime would feel.

4. Kamukura, Hinata and the Future

(This section will contain a lot of rambling headcanons based on how they get along after the events of SDR2/DR3. Also me being confused by DR3′s writing.)

When Hinata wakes up from the simulation, it is heavily implied that Kamukura’s personality is still present within him, as he occasionally mentions being bored (like when the Future Foundation members come after them). Even though he cut his hair, and continues to mainly present himself as Hinata, he retains Kamukura’s talents and shares a body and mind with him.

There are a few confusing things about SDR2 and DR3, such as the fact Naegi and friends don’t know Kamukura and Hinata were the same person, even though Naegi would have likely needed to meet Kamukura to ‘capture’ him, and in the visions Kamukura retained his appearance when talking to Komaeda on the boat to the real Jabberwock Island. It would be kind of suspicious to see that Kamukura was not present in the simulation but instead a completely different person, yet the Future Foundation talk as if they did not know Kamukura even existed...? Why would a random Reserve Course student be in the simulation instead? You would think they would know the identities of who they were going to upload into a rehabilitation programme... or at least put two-and-two together and do some research into this Hinata Hajime person? Anyway I digressed.

I believe that Kamukura was able to also get what he wanted. While he might also have known about the Forced Shutdown sequence, I feel like he might still see it as a non-answer (it may be the Future Foundation’s hope, but he and the other Remnants would go back to being despair anyway). But I don’t think he would have expected Hinata to retain his personality (and possibly memories of the killing game) as well. (Or is it just Kamukura acting as Hinata? We will never know why it seems like the SDR2 cast reverted to their in-game personalities despite the Forced Shutdown being unable to retain those memories...) Either way, I think Kamukura would not have predicted such a thing, because it... defies logic. Seriously how did they even fuse? Why does Hinata have heterochromia?? Did the program malfunction and a miracle happen?? I guess so.

Hinata can still feel emotions, but probably a lot less than he would before, because his brain has been messed with to suppress emotions. But for Kamukura, who had felt nothing his entire life, to be able to feel what it is like to ‘feel’, even just a little, is exactly the kind of stimulus he had been looking for.

And for Hinata, to go from being a talentless nobody, to becoming possibly the only survivor of the Reserve Course, to be suddenly equipped with all these skills and talents... I imagine it must have overloaded him, to suddenly wake up and feel so foreign in your own body. To suddenly realise there is someone else besides him, in his own brain, and that someone be an emotionless, apathetic, harsh, judgemental person... but still a person.

As I mentioned before, I think Hinata felt responsible for putting the class through the killing game. Even if it wasn’t technically him, because it was him that became Kamukura, he caused them to suffer to such an extent... But at the same time, because it was him, because it was Kamukura, he was able to use his foreign talents for something he wanted to do - to save his friends. For once, his identity as the Ultimate Hope was not being taken advantage of by someone else, but he was able to use it for his own wishes. For once, Hinata was able to regain control of his, of Kamukura’s, talents. Because of Kamukura, Hinata was able to live, face his regrets and save his friends.

For Kamukura, I think that he has finally found a meaning to his life. To be able to feel Hinata’s conviction in wanting to rescue his comatose friends. To want to use his talents that he previously would find boring. To want to live and keep existing. Hinata has shown him that things that he can’t predict do exist. Because of Hinata, Kamukura was able to find his purpose.

Hinata, who had always doubted himself, his identity, had to suddenly wake up as two people in the same body. He had to come to terms with the fact that he was different from everyone else, that he had gone through some things people would never be able to understand. He had to learn how accept this was how he would be for the rest of his life, to accept Kamukura as a part of himself. And similarly, Kamukura would also have to accept Hinata as a part of him, rather than just his past that did not matter, Hinata exists and is here right now.

Also, since Kamukura technically only existed for a few years, despite having so much knowledge, he is still lacking in experience. So Hinata would still have things to show and teach him. I also think that Kamukura has low energy due to his lack of motivation, which was why he barely moves about, only sees the value in ‘efficient’ actions, prefers to stand back and observe others, and that is why Hinata is the one that takes the lead in their body after SDR2.

(Stealthy edit but I totally missed this part in the OVA, but Hinata confirms they are both him, meaning they’ve both come to terms with each other and has accepted the other as a part of themselves. :D)

Hinata needs Kamukura, and Kamukura needs Hinata. Without one of them, the other would not exist, and they make up for what the other lacks.

Bonus: Cute Stuff

To end this off, here are some miscellaneous cute facts about these two!

Kamukura talks in a more polite way than Hinata

They have two colours of underwear, blue and red/pink with white sakura patterns

Kodaka made a tweet that suggested Hinata Hajime’s name could be read similarly to Kamukura [Hi (ka) -nata (muku) Hajime (kura)]

Kamukura’s hair follows a similar pattern to Hinata’s hair (ahoge, the one pointy middle strand)

Hinata’s stop/cancel sign in his eyes transforms to a target sign when he becomes Kamukura (two prongs) and awakened Hinata (three prongs!!)

Hinata’s official watch has black and red clock hands... :]

Anyway, thanks for reading if you somehow made it this far! This ended up being.... extremely long and rambly... and I might have repeated my points a few times... but I hope you still enjoyed it! :’D

#danganronpa #sdr2 #hinata hajime #kamukura izuru #fishy thoughts #long post #text post #ahhh hh hh h #i may like them... maybe...#kamuhina #slaps the kamuhi tag here too because let's be real it's a kamuhi essay too ww

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girlasterisk · 3 years

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hi i’m bouta write a headcanon-theory-meta-backstory-fill in the blank thing cus i cannot stop thinking about dean struggling with his bisexuality throughout his life. fair warning though, it’s gonna be long (and yes i’m blaming john so if you do like him, this post will most definitely not be for you) !! also !! abuse and homophobia mentions as i go on !!

(this post is just pre canon. i’m still writing one for the canon timeline so i’ll link that here when i finish. also if you wanna be tagged when i post the next one lemme know!)

ok so like around 14/15 dean starts to notice guys as well as girls. he didn’t know people could even feel this way. he’s never really heard john’s opinion on gay people so he wasn’t influenced by him yet and it was just internal conflict for dean at that time. eventually he realizes that there’s nothing wrong with him and that bisexual do people exist.

i think up to this point he’d probably gone out with a girl briefly (like a school dance or something). then, in whatever town they’re staying in at the time he gets a boyfriend. unfortunately john finds out and when he does he hits him and calls him all sorts of names and slurs and then they drop whatever case they were working on and leave the town immediately. (keep in mind sam doesn’t know bc he thinks or was told that it was from a hunt or a fight at school)

so this has all happened right around the time of the flashbacks we see in 9x07 (bad boys). so now they’re in a new town with a new case and this is where dean steals the food for sam cus they’re out of money. dean gets caught, john says to let him rot in prison (bc he’s a homophobic little bitch and thinks that’ll do dean some good) and dean gets sent to sonny’s. (also see dean’s marks on his wrists which we all agree was not a werewolf, it was john. so that would line up here)

so, sonny’s. now at this point dean has the mindset that being gay or bi or anything not straight is bad and wrong and dirty and weak. so while at sonny’s we know he gets a girlfriend (robin). i think that when he knows he has feelings for her his thinking (bc of john) is now like “i’m not bad or weak! i have a girlfriend” and this is where the repression continues. so then the rest of the time at sonny’s ensues and eventually john comes to pick him up.

so now, john is not really acknowledging dean and is just treating him like a soldier that’s only purpose is to do the job (i wonder what this could possibly lead to?) to break the tension, dean tells him about his girlfriend and he notices that this makes his dad treat him a little better (not great, but improvement) dean notices this and keeps this in mind. he also notices that the more he just shuts up and does exactly what his dad tells him, the more it’s seems john is respecting him.

now the new york cbgb story. for me this happened around the time dean got more comfortable around his dad. bc over time he sees what he thinks his will dad like and respect him for, so he continues to do those things and mold his personality around those traits. so, he sneaks out to the club right, and this is purely hc but i think ok he sees guys he thinks are attractive but he doesn’t want to feel that way so he goes with this woman and he gets drunk for the first time to push down le gæïę. ofc now he’s drunk and he’s lost his inhibitions (somewhat) and he gets involved with the people there (girls, guys, we don’t know)

now, john finds him. (at this point dean is just with the woman you’ll see why) and dean being drunk finally has the courage to tell him he hates him and for john it seems like it’s coming from the fact that he took him away from the party, and it is that, partly, but it stems from, you know, other places. i think john was only upset with dean for sneaking out to this party and it would’ve been much worse if dean had been with a guy when john found him. but luckily it was not a guy, so dean only got “it’s not my job to be liked. it’s my job is to raise you right” which for my headcanon theory brain is meant to be like “straight is right” you know? like as if part of raising dean “right” was to literally beat the gay out of him bc of course that’s “wrong”. and this then attributes to deans mindset of gay is wrong, he has to be hypermasculine and super straight.

so from then on dean continues to build this super masculine like manly man no homo personality, but always in the back of his mind is the part of him that knows he’s bi even when he denies it to himself. at times though as he gets older and does see gay people on cases or even celebrities he slowly starts to see more people are like him. i don’t really know when it happens, but at some point, he admits to himself that yeah he sometimes wouldn’t mind guys (and that’s the most he can admit to himself but it’s ok) he never tells anyone bc he still has this part of him that tells him he’s wrong for this and that’s what keeps him from acting on those feelings often.

if he’s interviewing someone without his dad or is simply without his dad, he might be a bit flirtatious towards guys and even though he would never speak of it, he can’t stop thinking about it.

he goes on like this until one time john is gone and he’s going to be for a while so dean allows himself for once to actually pursue a relationship with this one guy he met in town. i’d say dean is 20 and sam is 16. so sam is in high school and he’s been feeling restless and cooped up for too long. he does notice dean is close with this one guy but doesn’t think much of it. anyways, one day when dean is out with his “friend” sam decides to run away. to get out. this is when sam gets bones (the dog) and lives on his own for 2 weeks (see 5x16)

obviously when dean comes home he goes frantic and can’t find sam (i like to think sam did leave dean a note saying he left though so that dean wouldn’t think he died) but dean blames himself for leaving sam to go be with his boyfriend. john calls and dean lies and says everything’s fine and john is coming back soon. dean has to find sam before john comes home. unfortunately he doesn’t and john is absolutely livid. [insert “and when dad came home” face here] he beats dean and says some really awful things and tells dean that he has to find sam. a few days later, he does, and dean takes him home. (i do have headcanons on what this did to sam too)

this entire experience leaves dean with the idea that this is karma for being bi. because in his mind, if he was just straight, he wouldn’t have had a boyfriend, he would’ve watched sam, and sam wouldn’t have run away under his watch. once again, he goes back into pushing down that side of him, bc to him whenever he lets himself explore that side, bad things happen.

ok time skip. sam’s left for college and john kind of understands that he’s lost one son (by his own doing), so determined to not lose dean as well, he gives him more independence and let’s him start hunting on his own. he still hunts with dean sometimes but now dean also does solo hunts.

at some point on a hunt with his dad, dean meets lee webb. [insert backstory we got here] and eventually dean and lee go on a few hunts together. there is a definitely thing that happens there between lee and dean and it ends bc they eventually go their separate ways, but it doesn’t end badly and that’s why in 15x07 they’re friends.

i know he had other relationships like cassie and i’m not really sure when he met lisa but maybe it was around here. but with this little freedom and independence from john, he still thought that part of him was dirty but sometimes if something happened between him and a guy he would let it happen. but he would probably feel terrible after as if what he was doing was wrong and made him weak (because thank you john for that a+ parenting)

so that’s the end of my pre canon theory-meta-headcanon stuff! stay tuned for the canon timeline cus i’m still writing that. (if you wanna add something or comment on this feel free to and if you would like to be tagged in part 2 lemme know!)

tags: @justcynicalbelieverthings

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #dean is bi #dean’s bisexuality #spn meta #spn headcanons #spn theory #spn headcanon #spn rant #john winchester’s a+ parenting #j*hn #sam winchester #spn stanford era #spn pre canon #i’m thinking about this #neena.exe #it’s my dean struggling with his bisexuality post

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bloodys44 · 3 years

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Silence and Cigarette Smoke

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

Chapter 8 was just posted on ff.net if ya wanna read ahead :) Enjoy!

Chapter 5: The Smoke That Smells of Grief

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The wind was vicious that morning, tearing through the gnarled streets of Stella without mercy. Lucy was sure the raw skin of her cheeks would soon crack from the terrifying force and the wicked chill. She had never liked the wind, it was annoying and wild to say the very least. But today, she stood without complaint. Mother Nature was lashing out, heartbroken by the death of her daughter, a sky goddess. She had a right to be mad, and her anger was excused. And Lucy decided that her opinion on what she hated and what she loved was very askew, if not evidence enough by the cigarette perched on her lip. She had stolen a few from Natsu's extra pack, the one tucked discreetly at the bottom of his bag. Hidden, because he told Lucy he didn't smoke as much as he really did. It was probably so she didn't worry, which she definitely did, so maybe he was right to do so. Hopefully, he wouldn't be too upset about parting with three.

Natsu's cigarettes were nice. He rolled them himself, with extreme care, and chard a symbol of a flame on every filter. He said it was so he could tell them apart from Grey's, back when they were forced to share a room after bursting pipes flooded the guild. Yet even now, years after parting with his roommate, he still took the time to do it. They reminded her of the ones her father used to smoke, so maybe he just wanted to smoke something that felt luxurious. Regardless, the warm burn she felt in her chest on every inhale was arguably the only thing keeping her grounded to reality. It told her that yes, she was breathing. And yes, she was alive.

They had decided to spend the night in a forgotten and long-abandoned apartment building near the edge of town. Natsu said they looked far too skittish and ragged to waltz into a public inn. He was right of course, the whole townscape was alive and rabid after all the excitement the previous evening. The building wasn't so bad either, lack the smell of rotted wood and soaked cement. They had lucked out, finding a room with neglected furniture and a somewhat working bathroom sink and, much to Natsu's excitement, a sealed jar of moonshine. The apartment was small and rather bizarrely laid out. A hall winding around the abandoned rooms like an ominous mazed shell. The drain located in the kitchen sink smelled of bloated decomposing and the bathroom was a ghastly shade of green that Lucy was sure, shouldn't exist. But, it was somewhat warm and out of the evening rain, so really, she couldn't complain. The 'bedroom' had a weird octagonal shape and held nothing but a singular partly disintegrated mattress shoved against the far wall. The grungy bathroom with the working sink was linked with a doorless frame to the left of the one leading into the bedroom. To the right was a door-styled window that opened to a small rust ridden deck. That's where Lucy was now, shivering against the malicious wind and pretending she wasn't cold. Puffing away on a cigarette that looked so out of place in her hand while she tried not to cry. The more she tried to wrap her head around last night's awful adventure, the more it felt like some sick hallucinated joke over anything real. With a final exaggerated exhale Lucy flicked the defeated roll of tobacco over the terrace railing, leaning heavily on it and losing herself in the cryptic groan the metal gave while she watched it fall. She didn't know what to do, her usually organized mind was spinning in her skull and her thoughts came out of order in relentless spurts. The image of Lissana's blood soaking into the dirt packed earth did nothing but jar repressed memories of her mother. Memories of the day she hadn't listened to her warning and glanced back while running through the crowd. Memories of that disgustingly prominent guillotine blade slicing her head clean off and soaking the earth with her blood just the same. It even sounded the same, the tearing of human flesh. The thought churned her stomach roughly and forced a violent gag. The burning laceration at the side of her throat pulling in a very dreadful way, which in turn did very little to help sway her thoughts from where they were currently stationed.

She had been drowning in her own brain from the moment they arrived at their camp late last night, and she was sure she wouldn't be free to stop anytime soon. Replaying all her actions, trying to see what she could have done better. The answer to that was a whole hell of a lot, starting at the beginning when she ignored Natsu's rightly nervous warnings. He was always right about these things, she should have listened. This, though, also caused agitation, because how could somebody that had practical cabbage for brains always be right. She prided herself on her intellect, but her street skills were becoming a chronically flunked elective. And there Natsu would be to prove her wrong, standing strong and ready to save the day. Only this time, he didn't. And everything was mixed and upside down.

Her throat burned, and Lucy had to stagger herself to withhold the childish whine. Natsu's stitches were a downright hack job, pulling at her skin in gruesome ways. She now understood why Mira got so pent up when he tried to mend himself. To be fair, he had practically begged her not to force his hand. His eyes had been so dark, almost black when she told him that he had too. She couldn't do it herself, vision already wavering from either head trauma or the obvious blood loss. "I can't do this to you." He had protested. Sitting there looking like a beaten child with a thick, blunt and rather dull sewing needle gripped between his two fingers. He had scavenged it from the mouldy kitchen, along with a long thread he had torn from the moth ridden couch. The jar of moonshine popped open to drench his fingers and tools. Her small first aid pouch lost somewhere in the mine. "I'm going to bleed out." She had retorted bluntly. To which, he said. "It's going to hurt." While taking a jarring swig of the moonshine pot, and managing to keep his expressive features schooled from the taste. She figured dying of blood loss would be far worse and sat herself on the green and white checkered floor beside him. Crawling between his somewhat spread legs(as far as the cramped bathroom would allow) and resting so her back was on his chest. The first stitch was brutal, the needle getting caught on her skin in all the wrong ways. She bit down on his bicep to keep from screaming, just like he had instructed. Her mouth tasted of iron, her teeth piercing his skin, but he didn't complain so she didn't either. Natsu sometimes grunted disapprovingly from behind her. His trembling hands trying to soothe her with circles on her back. It didn't get any easier, by the fifth stitch she was a teary mess, and she could have sworn she felt the shudder of Natsu's chest while he choked back his own sobs.

They hadn't spoken much since then. The night was silent, Lucy curled up alone on the mattress and Natsu hunched over on the terrace. Keeping watch, he had told her while wrapping her up in his favourite travelling blanket. One Mira had knitted him after hearing he had arrived at the guild with nothing. The yarn was well worn, and matted in places. Three (clearly sewn on by Natsu) patches were situated on the lower half. But it was clean and smelt like him. Volcanic ash and spiced cinnamon, clashing with rain-forest mist and sap drizzled bark. Only on the exhale could you taste the mint, and not once did the sensation lack in its delivery of peace. He didn't sleep at all that night, she knew because she didn't either. Nor did he do much watching, instead he spent the dark hours studying his boots, the ones he had traded his mud-caked sandals for. He didn't look up once and she knew it was because the night sky was ruined for him. His glorious moon had fallen and now the sky held only black.

When the sun's rays had barely scraped over the landscape Natsu stood, stretched briefly before darting inside. Lucy pushed herself up upon his arrival, hoping he was coming to help talk her through what her mind couldn't digest. That wasn't his goal though, as he informed her he was heading out to meet the client. He owes us a reward, he informed. She pleaded with him not to go, that it wasn't worth it and the job was a lost cause. He looked about ready to explode and said "The gang is gone. We did what he asked. And I'm getting that fucking book." Short and to the point, then he was out the door, nearly slipping on the edge of his cloak in hurry. That was four hours ago and the cold had already numbed her skin to the pain and lost its distracting effect. Lucy was worried, and if he didn't show up soon she was sure to do something rash. She lit the last of her three cigarettes, relishing in the spin it gifted her head and the sour taste that burned her throat.

Several minutes passed before his cloaked frame rounded the street corner and Lucy inhaled deeply again, trying to let her heart palpitations slow. He stopped just before the front doors, staring at her from his spot on the cobble path two stories lower. His eye's fixated on the cigarette in her fingers. He gave his head a meaningful shake before heading in, it was only seconds before she heard his boots thunking across the hall's floorboards. She crept back through the bedroom window, meeting him as he emerged through the door.

"That's a pretty nasty habit you've picked up?"

His almost cheerful sounding remark caught her off guard, not that his constantly changing emotions didn't always. She raised her brow at him, sealing the windowed entrance behind her to cut off the colds connection. He looked worse than when he left, covered in mud and sporting a new gash on his brow with a matching set on his lower lip. She always hated when it was his face that got beaten.

"How did it go?" She chose to bat, ignoring his observation. She knew he noticed the way she was eyeing his new injuries, he chose to ignore that too.

"Fine. I got the book." Her eye's widened a fraction but she didn't ask to see it. The very idea of it seemed distasteful for the moment, the words too heavy for her tongue. "Are you feeling alright? Your flushed." His quick flip of the subject had again taken her off guard. She wasn't sure if it was because of the cold or because she really didn't feel that well, the irking feeling her throat was infected constantly pestering her. Or maybe it was the way his deep orbs lingered a little too long on her face, all concern and no lust that caused her to redden more. It was fact that no other man in her entire life had ever looked at her with such respect. She might have told him so, if not for the tremendously awful situation they were trapped in. He stepped towards her, placing the back of his hand to her forehead and retracting it quickly. "Jesus Lucy you're freezing!" Yeah, maybe it was just the temperature that caused her cherry colouring. "How long were you outside?"

"How did you get those?" She bounced back, gesturing to his newly sported lacerations. Natsu grunted in frustration and shook his head, taking hold of her shoulders and guiding her to sit on the mattress. He sat behind her, wrapping his sculpted arms around her frame and warming his skin until Lucy felt she was being held down by a radiator. She could tell he wanted to leave, getting home was at the very top of his priority list. But she knew he wouldn't push until he deemed her warm and well enough for travel.

"It's chaotic out there, got into a bit of a scuff. S'fine." He partly explained.

"Did anybody die?"

"No. Wasn't that bad."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

They were quiet for a minute, listening only to one another's breathing. She missed when Natsu was younger, like when she had just met him. He couldn't keep a secret, and he most certainly wouldn't be vague like this. Wanting to spill the story so he wasn't alone in dealing with it, that it was in someone else's head too. More recently he seemed to internalize everything, and this was no exception.

"I was only outside for a bit." One shabby answer for another.

"Bullshit, you're freezing."

"It's summer."

"It's freezing."

"Yeah."

Silence for another beat.

"You shouldn't do that, you could get frostbite."

Lucy ignored him then, swivelling herself so she was facing him. Their noses were practically touching, she could feel his warm breath and spy every freckle that danced over the slope of his nose. A sigh escaped her as she scrounged up the courage to ask what they were both thinkings. "What do we do when we're home?"

"I don't know."

"Okay."

His expression then reminded her of the time she had caught him and Lissana sneaking off together after Elfman's birthday. It was the same expression he wore when she tried to kiss him out behind the greenhouses. The scene had been romantic if she recalled properly. Low sunsets and blossom petals scattering over the FairyTail grounds like a soothing aura. He had been drinking, Lucy could tell from her spot behind the farthest gardening shed. Maybe he had simply been too tipsy to notice her approach with that hound nose, or maybe he just didn't care. His eyes were blown wide like her family's holiday dinner plates, watching as a bashful Lissana perched on the tips of her toes, snagging her fingers on his signature scarf and pulling him down to meet her lips. His eye's closed only momentarily before he shifted back some, gently staggering to put some space between their lips. "What are you doing?" She had asked him. And there, that was the same face he was wearing now, as if the brain behind his onyx eyes had melted away. An empty skull playing an act. "I don't know." He said just the same.

And they sat in that silence for a while, until Natsu decided she looked alive enough to go, or that she looked too bad to stay any longer. Her throat was definitely infected, and she felt like a man clawing through withdrawal. But she knew her dragon would get her home safely and she closed her eyes and let him gather their things. She must have walked with him to the station, but the rest of their travel was mostly a blur from there.

Their treck home from magnolia station very much reminded Lucy of her first encounter with Natsu, strung up across his chest, incased in his rigid arms while he carried her with ease. Her conscious state somewhat unreliable. Though back then, his expression hadn't been so grim and his shoulders hadn't been so tense. The tear in his brow had re-opened slightly over their walk, a line of red slowly drawing down the edge of his face. She had watched it drip patiently, over the edge of his cheekbones and down his cheek until it dipped under his jaw and she had to turn away. Seeing his blood always pained something in her she'd rather ignore. She wished he would whisper calming words against her cheek like he had last time. She still couldn't remember the words he spoke, but the feeling of calm had stayed with her all these years. But he didn't, not even a glance her way. And Lucy decided that if this was a new beginning like it was back then, she didn't like it at all. She closed her eyes and hoped her swaying brain would help her forget it.

Their arrival back home didn't pan to be something she wanted to remember either. Apparently Lissana had been very vocal about going on a job with Natsu, and their guild-mates had been quick to notice her absence in their return. They all poured out questions of her whereabouts, and why they looked so sick and beaten. But Natsu didn't answer, so Lucy didn't either. He kept his line of sight true as he marched her up to the infirmary, where thankfully it was only Porlyusica on shift. She didn't ask too many questions, only made comment to tell them moonshine is an awful disinfectant and these stitches are horrendous but they probably saved her life. Lucy was just thankful Mira wasn't back yet and working today, she just wasn't sure if she'd be able to look at her yet. Natsu stayed with her just long enough for Porlyusica to say she would be fine in a few days with the proper medication and rest. Almost as soon as she finished speaking he was out the door mumbling that he was going off to tell the headmaster the mission report. Lucy begged with him to wait, that she would go with him, but he wouldn't. And for hours after, the castle's walls rang with the cries of their substitute father.

Lucy was put on bed rest for no less than a week. She was cleaned thoroughly and re-stiched with skilled hands. Natsu had been completely resistful about his own medical care and had waited in the hall for Porlyusica to finish with her tasks. After that though, he perched himself at the foot of her bed and didn't leave until she was permitted to do so as well. Sneaking in cigarettes to smoke when the nurses changed shift. And for every night following her release, he did the same, sleeping against her wall at the foot of her dorm bed. It was like he was watching her, scared that if he looked away she would disappear too. His whole personality had been turned down about twelve notches, his internal fire seemed so smothered. She was never alone anymore, constantly coddled by him. And though she appreciated his constant presence and care, it grinded her a little that he wouldn't even spare her a walk alone through the grounds. Silently following her just out of range.

Another week and a half passed before Mira, Elfman, and Laxus returned from their job. Lucy had woken to Natsu pacing her room rather frantic. His hair spiked from stressful finger snags and his scarf strained over his shoulders while he pulled. "Are you okay?" She mumbled, her throat raspy with sleep. Her voice seemed to startle him, causing him to turn slightly and whip his head around to face her. Eye's wide and shoulder's flexed. This in itself was strange, for Natsu, with his uncanny scenes, wasn't one to be caught off guard. He shook his head slightly, running his hands through his hair once more before taking a seat atop her desk.

"Mira and Elfman got back this morning." He mumbled, scuffing his sandal on the floor.

"Oh." His announcement turned her stomach, metaphorically mangling her insides and shrinking her ribcage until the air felt thin.

She nodded towards him slightly, pulling a pack from her bedside table. He practically ripped it from her hand, mumbling that it "Wasn't good for her." before lighting one for himself. He then kicked the edge of her dresser to his front, swearing loudly and moving to fidget with his hair again. Lucy let out a stifled exhale and curled in on herself, tucking her legs against her chest and wrapping them with her arms. Natsu never acted like this, like a child having a tantrum. This is the Natsu that frightened her the most, when he was careless and frantic. He was already impulsive on a good day, and it regularly got him in trouble. So this was only a time bomb in the making. Once his dark eye's met hers again they softened almost instantly. "I'm sorry, just kinda stressed out I think."

Lucy was careful in her approach, sliding across the bed to stand next to him. She slipped her arms under his, around his chest and pulled him close in a loose hug. She rested her chin on his shoulder and laced her fingers at the nape of his neck, twisting his pink locks around his finger. "Do they know yet?" She whispered, keeping up her ministrations when he stiffened significantly.

"No, they're in Gramp's office waiting on me now."

"Oh..." She spewed again. She pulled away from him slightly, resting her forehead on his for a moment. "Just let me get dressed, I'll come down with you."

She turned away from him in the direction of her closet, but he grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. "I don't know how to do this again." His words barely slipped out under his breath. A simply broken statement from a broken man.

It was true this wasn't the first time he had reported such awful news to the Strauss siblings. He had told Lucy once before that when he was younger, Lissana had begged him to take her out on a job. He asked Mira for her permission, but she evidently had said no, that she wasn't ready to go off on a job with a kid that always got into trouble and constantly snuck out on jobs that were far too high in ranking for his skill level. Natsu being the stubborn child he was though, stole a job request with a senior rank and took little Lissana along. As expected, the enemy was far superior and bested them quickly. Natsu lost Lissana in the commotion, and after days of desperate searching, he had to give in. Thankfully Laxus found her almost half a year later while travelling home.

"When they heard the news Elfman cried for days, I thought it would never end, it was awful." The dragon slayer shook his head again, finally offering her a hit of his cigarette with an apologetic look for his earlier reaction. "Mira though, I'll never forget it. It's like I could see her heart shatter through her eyes. I wanted her to yell and scream, to get mad or something, I felt so guilty but she didn't." He tossed Lucy a look filled with such pain and anguish, one that should never have melted over his structured face. "She just held me for hours, kept telling me it wasn't my fault and that everything would be okay, she even smiled at me. And for months after, she had these awful nightmares where she would cry out for Lissana, and god the sound, I swear I can still hear it sometimes."

"Natsu..." The blonde tried to console, "You were just a child, it was an accident." She tried to squeeze his hand in comfort but he pulled away, sliding from the edge of her desk to stretch freely in the of the small room.

"I'm not a child anymore Lucy. This is worse than back then. Laxus cant find her this time." He was done talking now, she could tell with the way he held his posture. Natsu wasn't one to open up and maul things over with another person. This being a rare occurrence for him, she didn't want to push him farther, in fear he would spin out in his own thoughts and make a rash decision. He was so complex, Lucy found she always struggled with trying to support him the way he deserved. He hated feeling pitied or coddled, the wrong response could push him to months of emotional silence. And she knew for a fact that this morning report was going to do just that.

The meeting went just as awful as Natsu had described. Elfman cried howls that rivalled hungry dogs, a shaking mess that contradicted his overly pressed masculinity while Laxus stood stoic behind him, a firm hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder. Mira acted just the same, a warm smile pressed to her lips while she gathered a broken Natsu in her arms. Whispering gentle words against his neck while she toyed with his wild hair. Lucy watched her partner deplete at her side, the lights dulling from his onyx orbs with every word that left Mira's subtle pout. This time though, the silver-haired woman couldn't wait for her nightmares to control her grief, and as soon as the grand oak doors closed her away from the office the cry that split the hall rattled Lucy's bones. A sound that knew no happiness and danced only with the dark.

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https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/1/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

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