#but now I should accept that they aren’t even existent and everything they’ve been through has been eradicated from this current universe

[shima-draws]

HERE HE IS MY TRAGEDY BOY ILARI…what secrets hide behind that customer service smile??

Read below to find out ;))))

Note that his character profile is (shockingly) incomplete, I haven’t finished writing out all the details of his arc yet, BUT I figured I’d share what I have :’) Which is already plenty bc this is already 5k words so you’ve got a lot to read anyway lmao

Ilari/Fenn (Alias)

Age: 26

Hair color: Orange

Eye color: Red/pink

Element: Forest

Ilari’s story mainly focuses on him and his childhood friend, Azra. He lived a relatively normal life in a small village, and he and Azra grew up together. Their parents were good friends, so they’ve practically known each other since birth. The two of them were very close—best friends with an unbreakable bond. Their village was mostly comprised of older couples and the elderly, so there weren’t really any other children for them to play with, another reason for their closeness.

All of that came to a sudden end when Ilari’s parents passed away :’( This was when Ilari was around 8-9 years old. They were caught in an accident on a trip out of town, and unfortunately neither of them survived. Ilari was absolutely devastated;; he was really close with his parents, and being an only child made it so much worse. Without any other relatives to take him in it seemed like he’d have nowhere to go, but Azra’s parents immediately soothed any worries about that by taking Ilari in. Naturally they’d never abandon their dear friends’ child, and since Ilari was already so close with Azra they didn’t really have to think twice about it. Azra was thrilled to be able to be with Ilari more often, seeing this as the best thing ever (minus the whole uh Ilari’s parents being dead thing). Before their deaths, Azra was actually supposed to go live with his aunt for a while—his parents thought it would be a good experience for him to get out of the village and take part in guild life, since his aunt is part of a guild. Of course Azra had been dreading going, not wanting to be separated from Ilari, but now that’s no longer a worry because of Ilari suddenly having to move in with them. So, Azra’s relocation was called off.

With Ilari around, things in Azra’s household changed quite a bit. Ilari helped Azra through his transition (yes he’s trans!), and with his charm was able to soothe any worries Azra’s parents had on the matter. (They aren’t like, inherently transphobic or anything, just very traditional, so they were unsure on how to really take it.) As the years passed and the boys grew older, things started to change between them too. They’d grown even closer than ever, and started dreaming about going out to see the world and maybe joining a guild someday. It was pretty much inevitable that they’d fall in love with each other—and once they realized their feelings, it didn’t take long for either of them to confess.

Their new relationship blooming, Ilari and Azra decided to leave home and travel around for a while. Being stuck in their village their entire lives, every step outside was like a new adventure. They spent the next several years moving from place to place, never really staying put in one town for long, since they wanted to see everything the world had to offer. Their next destination was a city of water that they’d both dreamed of seeing for ages; Ilari took this chance to propose to Azra, so that they could get married in the city and maybe settle down there for a while. Azra more than happily accepted.

Of course, all good things must come to an end…both of them started out towards their wedding destination, riding the high of being new fiancés, completely oblivious to the tragedy awaiting them. Along the road they were suddenly attacked by a strange group of bandits. Ilari quickly puts the pieces together that they’re a group of elite purists, obsessed with the concept that elementals should be the only group of humans to exist, and those not blessed with magical abilities should be culled. The group has been traveling around, targeting non-elementals and killing them without mercy all in the name of their ideals. Unfortunately for the couple, while Ilari is a forest elemental and is spared from their judgment, Azra is a non-elemental, and he is not so lucky. Ilari is strong, but not strong enough to pull off a defeat against such high numbers, so he can do nothing but watch as Azra is captured in front of him. Ilari struggles against the people restraining him, but is unable to break free, and watches in absolute horror as the purists slaughter Azra without a hint of mercy.

Seeing the love of his life get hurt breaks something within Ilari. His power surges, and he’s able to free himself while his assailants get caught up in his attack. The remaining purists are impressed and shocked at the strength of his magic, seeing as it just overpowered half their members. They make a hasty retreat, but Ilari is too distracted by Azra to follow them.

Ilari gathers Azra into his arms and realizes that he’s too late. Azra has already bled out, growing weaker by the second, and is completely unresponsive. Ilari begs him to wake but he never does…and like that, Azra dies in Ilari’s arms. Ilari sobs in despair and lies there for hours in agony :’(

Once he’s tired himself out, Ilari, fueled with rage and a thirst for revenge, vows to hunt down every last member of the purist group and wipe them out. Losing the only important person in his life is the thing that breaks him completely, so he loses all sense of judgment, morality and even rationality. It’s easy for him to become twisted after witnessing such a tragic thing 😔 

Over the next year, Ilari follows up on his promise and tracks down the purist group using a variety of connections and…other various sketchy methods. At this point he’s become a full-fledged vigilante, having gained the skills and smarts to be able to sneak around and do all the dirty work without leaving a trace behind. This results in the brutal deaths of many of the purists, because at this point Ilari has nothing to lose and doesn’t feel a shred of mercy towards the people who killed Azra for fun. He almost grows numb to the killing, having gotten over the guilt of it a long time ago.

At long last, Ilari finally tracks down the leader of the group, who just so happened to be the one he ran into with Azra all that time ago. Ilari makes him watch as he slaughters his men (as an intimidation tactic) and then entraps him in vines before forcing him to drink poison of his own creation—something that stems from his own elemental magic, which a lot of people have looked down on him for. (Forest elementals who have the ability to make poisons are generally ostracized by others and are given a bad reputation, mostly bc of how obviously deadly it is.) Ilari tells the leader that he doesn’t even deserve to be killed by Ilari himself, and that this slow, agonizing and indirect method is the perfect end for someone like him.

After leaving the leader’s base, Ilari breaks down in tears. At long last he’s exacted revenge on Azra’s murderers, but it doesn’t make him feel any better—in fact, he just feels worse knowing that all of it was for naught, because Azra is never coming back. And now his hands are permanently stained with blood and the knowledge that he made the conscious decision to become a killer himself.

Emotions a complete mess, and not really knowing what to do with himself now that his only goal has been completed, Ilari drifts from town to town, doing odd jobs and struggling to keep himself afloat amidst his depression. During a visit to a local bar, Ilari overhears some of the patrons discussing a strange woman known as “The Contractor”, who apparently has the power to grant wishes of any kind. Eager to know more, he asks a couple questions, but is immediately warned that the Contractor is not one to be easily trifled with. Apparently with her power people’s wishes DO come true, but at a very very steep price—some rumors say that people have even regretted making a deal with her because the tradeoff was even worse than they could have imagined. But Ilari’s already at rock bottom, so things can’t get worse for him, right? At this point he’s desperate to have any sense of normalcy in his life again, and he wants to see Azra so badly that it aches.

With that knowledge tucked under his belt, it doesn’t take Ilari long to locate the Contractor…or rather, for her to locate him. He’s met with a very eccentric woman, whose eyes appear to have seen beyond the stars themselves and hold an ancient power. Even her very presence is intimidating, something that whispers of eldritch abilities. Ilari immediately realizes that the rumors were true, the Contractor is not to be handled lightly. The toll for her granting wishes is always heavy, the price too high. But Ilari’s willing to risk it anyway.

The Contractor introduces herself and says she always comes to those who need their wishes granted most, almost like she can sense their desire. She asks Ilari what wish he wants granted—and Ilari tells her he wants to see Azra again, no matter what the cost. She warns him, gravely, that the result may not be exactly what he was hoping for. Ilari questions her then, accusing her power of being fake if it can’t grant the exact wish, and the Contractor explains how her wish granting actually works: through her, the person making the wish actually makes a deal with fate itself. She has them sign a contract and weaves fate in order to fulfill their desire. However, fate is fickle, and even she is not its master, so she can’t predict how things will turn out. That’s why it’s so high of a risk. She tells him that she is merely a vessel of fate, that she can’t bend it to her will, only give the option to temper with it in the first place to try to achieve the results people want. And the only people who ever sign her contracts are the ones who are absolutely desperate to change fate, change reality, no matter the consequences. But that’s why she appeared to Ilari in the first place: he’s one of those desperate few, the one willing to step forward and risk it all without knowing what will happen.

Ilari doesn’t take long to mull it over before agreeing to her terms. She warns him once more that he may come to regret his decision, but Ilari tells her he already has too many regrets, and that he can face any problem as long as he can be with Azra again. And so, Ilari signs her contract, and the Contractor begins to pull the strings of fate…

Ilari awakens to find himself in a room by the sea. Peering out the window, he recognizes the town as the one Azra was initially supposed to go to to live with his aunt all those years ago. The possessions in the room definitely belong to him, and with one glance he can tell that he’s apparently lived here for a while and has settled in. Naturally he’s confused, but he figures this has something to do with the contract he signed and fate being changed. And with that he immediately starts to look for Azra, because it had to have worked, right? Azra has to be alive, right? Maybe the Contractor had changed fate so that Azra had never died that day. Ilari rushes downstairs to find out.

The first thing he sees is Azra’s back in the kitchen. The shock of seeing the love of his life after so long hits Ilari hard, and before he knows it he’s bursting into tears. Azra is absolutely shocked and rushes over to comfort him. Ilari breaks down and Azra has to hold him while he sobs and pours his heart out—the first time he’s ever really let himself break down and express his emotions since Azra died. Ilari loses himself in Azra’s embrace and releases all of his pent up feelings that he’d kept in for the better part of a year. 

When he finally comes back to himself, Ilari realizes that they aren’t alone. There’s another girl there, who has joined their embrace, and is also whispering soothing words of comfort to him along with Azra. Azra expresses concern over Ilari’s actions, since he isn’t really the type to cry in the first place, and the girl agrees. When Ilari asks who she is, the two of them laugh awkwardly and ask him if he’s joking—her name’s Iori, of course, come on, Ilari, you know Iori! One of your closest friends, a member of the local guild, Azra’s fiancé— 

And that is what truly shocks him, right down to his core. Ilari shakily asks them to repeat themselves, and yes, he heard that right, they’re fiancés. Suddenly the Contractor’s warning makes so much more sense and Ilari quickly excuses himself, running out of the house and leaving the stunned pair behind.

Ilari runs with no destination in mind until he tires himself out, and when he finally finds a place to rest, the Contractor appears. She looks grim, like she’d already seen what happened and is prepared to face his wrath. Ilari asks her what’s going on, so she sits him down and explains all of the differences that fate has brought them.

The true reality of the Contractor’s ability is revealed. She’s actually a time elemental, and through her powers of making deals with fate, she can alter timelines through contracts people sign. In this timeline, Ilari’s parents didn’t die until much later in his life, so he got to be with them more. However, because of this, there was nothing to prevent Azra from going to live with his aunt, so Ilari and Azra didn’t grow up together like they should have. Azra fell in love with guild life and being able to spend time outside of their little village, so he essentially started to “study abroad” there. Because Ilari wasn’t there to directly influence Azra’s parents’ opinion on his transition, things between them grew strained, driving Azra away and making him want to stay with his aunt more and more. Eventually Azra only came home during the summer, making the time Ilari could spend with him very small compared to the everydays they’d spend back in the original timeline, so they weren’t as nearly as close. And during all this, Azra fell in love with someone else—Iori, who was also a member of his aunt’s guild. By the time they’d reached adulthood, Azra had moved permanently to live with Iori, who he’d proposed to. And not long after that, Ilari’s parents passed away. Azra and Iori pushed back their wedding to tend to Ilari, who didn’t have anyone else to turn to. Despite Ilari’s objections they convinced him to move in with them, just for a little while, which led to his current living situation. But, because Ilari and Azra never went traveling together in this timeline, they never ran into the purists, so Azra wasn’t murdered: the only true upside to the whole thing.

Ilari finally understands the consequences, the way too high price of signing a contract. While Azra was alive in this timeline, the price Ilari paid for it was an entire lifetime of memories with him, their childhood, their mutual attraction, all of the time they spent together, gone. He’s the only one who remembers now. And isn’t this just absolute torture? The love of his life is alive, but is engaged to someone else, and won’t look at him the same way ever again. All of their promises, their secrets and their exchanges of affection don’t exist here. Ilari starts to wonder if it was worth it. Is it better for Azra to be dead and still have everything they shared intact? Or is it fine to leave things like this, for Azra to be alive but not remember how much they loved each other, how they promised their entire lives, their future to each other?

The Contractor looks genuinely remorseful, and she apologizes for putting him through more pain. She leaves to let Ilari grieve in peace. At this point, it almost feels like he’s lost Azra all over again, like he’s died a second time. The Azra that exists here is a completely different person, one who’s been shaped by different experiences and relationships, someone completely foreign to Ilari. Azra’s alive, but at what cost? Ilari’s lost more than he’s gained.

Ilari doesn’t get much time to really let it sink in, though, because Azra shows up, apparently having been searching for him all over town. Azra admits he’s really worried about Ilari, mentioning offhand that he hasn’t been the same since his parents passed. But this Ilari lost his parents a long, long time ago, and has already accepted that. He decides then that he’ll just act as normal as possible around Azra, so he doesn’t notice the discrepancies in Ilari’s behavior.

Ilari expects himself to feel nothing but hatred for Iori, but realizes he can’t find it in himself to despise her. Just by being around her and Azra he can tell that she makes Azra really happy, and it just so happens she’s probably the sweetest and most selfless person Ilari’s ever met. Basically, she’s an angel and Ilari’s almost angry that he can’t dislike her. Why is she so Perfect. It’s super frustrating. Every time he even thinks about being nasty to her she smiles at him or does something super sweet for him and he’s like GOD DAMMIT

Ilari gets used to living with the two of them after a while, but it’s still emotionally exhausting. Seeing them so happy together never ceases to make his heart feel like it’s being torn in two, but above all else all Ilari wants is Azra’s happiness. He slowly starts to realize that maybe things between them weren’t super ideal. Azra seems much more open and sociable in this timeline, probably as a result of him growing up in a guild rather than stuck in a village with just Ilari as a friend. And Azra’s happy, truly happy, almost glowing—making Ilari feel sick to his stomach. Maybe he’d been holding Azra back all that time. Maybe things were better this way—maybe this was meant to be after all, the way things should have played out for them. It’s a poisonous mindset to have, and as Ilari falls deeper into his own self-deprecation, he decides that he can’t taint Azra’s life any further. Especially since the two of them have already pushed their wedding back for him, several times, too concerned about his mental health. Ilari feels like he’s nothing but a burden to them. So now he’s got survivor’s guilt, a guilt complex, self esteem issues, AND depression! A cocktail of mental disorders!

Ilari breaks the news that he’s planning to move out. Azra and Iori immediately refuse, begging him to stay, but Ilari insists that this is something he needs to do. He plans to travel around again—maybe seeing the world with fresh new eyes and without the responsibilities he used to have, Ilari can come to terms with everything that’s happened and move on with his life. But for now, staying with them is too painful, and every day he can feel himself getting worse, so he reasons that getting out is the best option. The couple eventually relent and let him go, but not before they throw him a little goodbye party and send him off with lots of hugs and the promise that he’ll return for their wedding.

Before long Ilari falls back into the comfort of traveling. It’s something that’s been constant no matter the timeline, so it soothes his nerves and starts to help with his downcast mood. Besides, there’s tons of places he never got to see in his original timeline, so this is a good chance to visit them all. Along the road he ends up bumping into Kiyo (for those of you who don’t know him, he’s the Guildmaster of the Asterstone Guild, and you can read up on him here!), who, due to his absentminded personality, ended up getting lost on the way home. Ilari offers to guide him back to town, and the two end up bonding on the way.

Kiyo senses immediately that Ilari’s a bit of a lost soul, a traveler with no end destination in mind, so he persuades him into staying at the guild for a while. Ilari had mentioned that he’d never been part of a guild before, so Kiyo figures guild life will be good for him—getting to meet new people and open himself up a bit more might help his depression. Ilari’s very hesitant at first, not used to being around anybody else but Azra, but he eventually warms up to the guild. The pain in his heart begins to ease, just a little, as he spends time with the guild members and finally makes new friends. The entire guild is enamored by him (also bc he hides all of the dark parts of his past), and they all take care of him. Kiyo’s a moron at the best of times and Ilari finds the fact that the guildmaster is completely incompetent absolutely hilarious (but it’s all in good fun).

Several weeks into living at Asterstone, Ilari happens to overhear a conversation mentioning that a non-elemental was attacked a few towns over. It’s like a bucket of ice cold water descends on him then, because he remembers the other thing that happened in the other timeline that didn’t happen in this one: the purist cult is still around. Ilari knows that he can’t let them continue to do as they please, or the same thing will happen again, whether to Azra or some other innocent non-elemental. Ilari decides to leave the guild for the time being and go after them. At this point he’s unsure whether or not he wants to fall back into how things were before: should he save the lives of countless others, at the cost of becoming a cold-blooded killer again? He feels himself teetering dangerously on the edge of becoming who he was in the original timeline, and it terrifies him. After finally knowing what it’s like to be happy again, to feel warm and safe, he’s scared of doing his vigilante work because he knows he might lose himself again—and he doesn’t want to be that dark person, he doesn’t want to be a killer. But he’s the only person that really knows what the purists are like, having done research and following their movements relentlessly for over a year.

Ilari goes straight to the purists’ main base and is shocked to find it empty. He’s sure this is where their base of operations was—but it looks as if the place hasn’t been touched in years, like nobody was ever there at all. Before he can get too confused, the Contractor appears and warns Ilari that in this timeline the purist group is much, much larger and more dangerous than before, due to some sort of butterfly effect that made their numbers skyrocket. Ilari feels a mounting sense of dread. This is more than just a ragtag group, they’re an elite force now, with more knowledge and power than ever. The Contractor tells him that the purists had spread their philosophies using the Elemental Massacre from a thousand years back to spur more hatred towards non-elementals (and if you don’t know, that massacre was basically the reverse of what the purists are doing now, non-elementals targeting elementals in large groups and killing them due to feeling inferior). Ilari realizes that this has grown way too big for him to handle alone, and despite his hesitance, knows he has to ask for help on taking the purists down.

He returns to the guild and even though he’s terrified, opens up a bit more to Kiyo and explains the situation with the purists. Kiyo agrees that something needs to be done about them, because he’d been hearing rumors of attacks happening for the past couple months. Ilari says that disbanding the group is his main goal and he’ll do anything to see it through—but this time he’s going to do it the right way. He resolves not to kill anybody this time, just punish them appropriately for their crimes. Kiyo agrees to help him, but they need to come up with a plan, because if word gets out that the guild is looking for information, that’ll be too obvious and force the purists into hiding. They’re awfully slippery so they need to handle the situation delicately.

Kiyo tells Ilari that the guild actually does work with an underground informant (hiiii Mara <3) and that he can definitely get them some info and connections to help them start researching the purists whereabouts. However, having Mara be their sole informant isn’t enough, they need a bigger network of information coming in and out: but again that’s the issue with having the guild involved, people underground don’t want to be associated with a goody-two shoes organization like that.

Ilari proposes the idea of opening up a shop, one that isn’t affiliated with the guild, that acts as a front for a meeting spot for informants. Everyone involved agrees, and with the help of the whole guild, Ilari opens his very own floral shop in town! (Flower shop AU REAL.) He decides to adopt an alias for safety purposes, so he starts going by the name of Fenn during his time working at the shop (and those who knew him as Ilari before start referring to him as Fenn too). Ilari, being a forest elemental, creates a mixture of herbs, remedies, flowers, and other concoctions to sell to customers. He meets up with Mara, who agrees to help, and Mara spreads the word that Ilari’s place is a spot for informants to head to without being under the watchful eye of the law. Through this method, they’re able to gather and trade information about the purists with other vigilantes, thieves, and general do-no-gooders, creating a vast network of informants. Of course, having sketchy people constantly coming in and out of your shop definitely makes rumors fly, so eventually Ilari’s shop starts to get a…sketchy reputation around town. (Not that he necessarily cares either way, as long as he’s getting what he needs out of it.) People start to avoid shopping there (except for the guild members who know Ilari is a good boy) and Ilari starts to hear urban legends about his own shop, which he finds endlessly amusing. (So does the Contractor, who still drops in every now and then to see how he’s doing. He and the Contractor are…friends? Acquaintances? They’re certainly SOMETHING lol)

Things settle down after this—it’s pretty much just a game of patience at this point as Ilari and the guild slowly start to gather information and intel. During this, Ilari ventures outside during a rainy day to harvest some herbs for his shop and wanders across an injured bird. Ilari scoops it up and takes it back to his shop to tend to it. He quietly muses how he and the bird are similar; both loners with injuries, whether it be physical or emotional, who nobody seems to pay any mind to. But then he says that since the guild took care of him, he’s happy to care for the bird, making it a whole full circle “there’s still hope for us after all” kind of thing. Unbeknownst to him, this bird is actually a shape-shifting elemental, who hears Ilari’s kind words and gestures of care and is like 😳

Several days later, Ilari wanders into the back of his shop and is shocked to see that the bird has transformed into a human. He’d saved a human!! The human introduces himself as Mio, and quietly yet sincerely thanks Ilari for his compassion and care. Ilari asks where he came from, and while Mio seems closed off, he admits that he came from a port town south of them, and that he was being chased by pirates. 

SADLY this is all I have written so far, but yes Ilari will end up with Mio, who is probably just as messed up as he is lmao so they’re really perfect for each other. Are they unhealthily codependent on one another? Yes. Does it work for them? Yes. Ilari doesn’t think he’s worth saving but Mio goes to all the lengths to prove otherwise, even going so far as to cut the strings of fate himself, which is DANGEROUSSSS. But it all works out ;)

Once I get the rest of Ilari’s story arc written I will edit this post and put it here! Hopefully that will be soon wheeze

Extra personality traits:

-He’s very self conscious of his flaws, so much so that he constantly second guesses himself when it comes to taking steps in relationships. He always asks permission before doing anything with Mio, and is very careful whenever he does initiate anything :’)

-He’s very impulsive and tends to jump into situations without thinking;; it’s just an involuntary gut reaction. But he’s smart enough to get himself out of said situations most of the time

-Normally very bright, cheerful, and friendly. He’s able to get along with practically anybody he meets. He’s also quite the charmer 👀 But he’s very sincere with his compliments, which is why he’s so likable.

-Despite this, the only person he’s really ever been “close” to is Azra…until Kiyo and the guild came into the picture and forced him to open up more towards others.

-Super physically affectionate with people he’s fond of. He’s known to cling to others if he’s really in need of attention

-He’s not afraid to be blunt—in fact, he’ll usually keep a cheerful smile on his face while he blatantly (yet politely) tells things as they are. Nobody really knows how to counteract this lmao

-He’s so bad with feelings. When people start confiding in him he freaks and loses his cool (hence his negative reaction to Mio confessing his feelings. THEY WORK IT OUT THO).

- He can’t take compliments and he refuses to believe in the fact that anybody could like him because he has zero self-esteem 😔 He wasn’t this way before, but after killing so many he truly thinks that he’s too stained with blood to be worthy of anybody

-When he loses his smile you KNOW you’re in trouble. He rarely ever shows his serious side but when he does things get scary

-He haaaates showing his nasty side to Mio and to Azra;; Sometimes he’ll slip into that persona unconsciously and he always feels awful about it afterward (especially since he doesn’t mean it most of the time). But he’s usually quick to catch himself when he’s being cruel, and apologizes straight away.

-He’s a self sacrificial moron. If anybody close to him is in danger he’ll offer himself up immediately and take the fall no matter what the consequences. This ties heavily into his own negative self worth which is why he’s so quick to take the bullet for others. He’s got that “better me than them” mindset and it’s so UNHEALTHY, this boy needs THERAPY

-Rarely gets overly emotional (and by this I mean like the crying kind of emotional) but when he does oh man. Everyone loses their minds trying to comfort him

-At this point he’s only used to Azra’s flirting so whenever Mio starts doing anything romantic he gets flustered as hell 😏

And now, because at this point I feel like I need to include it, a TL;DR:

Ilari, a forest elemental, grows up with his non-elemental best friend Azra. After Ilari’s parents die, he moves in with Azra, falls in love with him, and eventually proposes to him while they’re out journeying. On the way to their wedding destination, Azra is killed by a group of elemental purists. Ilari spends the next year hunting them down and killing them for revenge. After that’s complete, he hears rumors of a woman called The Contractor who can grant wishes. Ilari signs a contract despite the warnings of a high price to be with Azra again, and finds himself in an altered timeline where Azra is alive but is engaged to somebody else. Heartbroken, Ilari leaves on a journey of self discovery and realizes that the purists are still around in the new timeline, so he concocts a plan to go after them and disband them once and for all. During all this, he rescues an elemental named Mio, whom he begins to grow close to despite his own reservations.

TO BE CONTINUED.......lol

#Among the Stars #ATS #Shima's OCs #Original character #Character art #Character design #Character sheet #Fantasy #Fantasy OC #OC #Ilari #Long post #Character concept #Concept art #Shima arts #Art #Digital art #shima-draws

[tharizdun-03]

86 Part 1 Review

I am moving some of my Twitter threads over to Tumblr as well. This is one of them.

The two biggest issues in 86 are:

1) The very underdeveloped setting which leads to a simplistic depiction of its themes of racism and dehumanization. 

2) The largely bland and simple cast that for the most part ranges from annoying to just uninteresting.

Let’s go through them both, starting with...

Issue 1: Underdeveloped Setting

Let’s start with the first point, alright? When I first watched the series as it was airing, I found its setting so underdeveloped I actually had to ask for clarification about the reasons behind all this racism and war.

Of course, people being people, said that I just don’t understand racism, cause ”86 doesn’t need to give any deep reasons behind it people are just racist”, ”stop trying to justify it”, and ”why is racism lol”. Sigh… Every moral issue in the series is presented very black and white, there’s absolutely no subtlety here, it’s all blatantly in your face. War is bad is such a common theme you really gotta make it interesting nowadays for it to work.

The military is so cartoonishly evil, with their only insult being calling the 86 pigs every damn time they’re on screen and this dehumanization by the upper ranked members is just not writing down 86’s deaths lol, and our protagonist Lena is very clear about how all this is bad.

It's just a very simplistic depiction of segregation and class injustice when the ways we actually dehumanize people in real life are a bit more complicated than just, pretending they don’t exist or calling them pigs. And the fact that it all just started 9 years ago is insane.

Anette was friends with 86 people in school, everything was cool, they were equal, but then, BAM, SUDDENLY OUT OF NOWHERE, they were gone and segregated. And only then was she mocked by her classmates for having been friends with an 86 (she is very confused about this for some reason when all her other classmates aren’t). 

Are we really saying that all this prejudice against people without silver hair only kicked in 9 years ago when the government suddenly took action? That is such a simplistic and naive representation of dehumanization. The fact that any racism wasn’t present prior to 9 years ago makes the setting so fundamentally weak that makes me think that it just has to be a fault of the anime, right?

It just didn’t include this information from the LN. Of course, doesn’t change anything, as it is the anime I’m talking about, but I can’t imagine the setting being so under-developed that it's the case in the light novel as well. You don’t just change to fascism overnight. There is a history of an underlying chain of events behind things like this. Very poorly done. 

It just opens up a lot of questions.

It is difficult for me to believe that after having been oppressed for so long and been made to fight to die, they’d still fight for them voluntarily. You know, maybe I can understand that they wouldn’t want to rebel now but are you telling me they’ve never even tried rebelling in the past? We should get some mention of them fighting back against the dehumanization but the series presents them as if they just accepted it from the start and haven’t tried to do anything about it.

Another thing, if the Albas are only people with white skin color (and they all seem white anyway, including Albas and 86, so?), and the white/silver hair, isn't that a minority? As literally every other skin and hair color would be 86, they should be way more. Unless, of course, UNLESS! There was a history of selectively trying to make sure only Albas were born or something but that would only work with a long history of dehumanization, something apparently not a thing in this series, as it all seemed to have happened only 9 years ago. Another potential question was what about just dyeing their hair? I'm sure there's some way they could do it, and not that I'd expect it to work, but it'd show at least some 86 tried to resist the oppression. Maybe they’ve been identified since birth, so the government knows what hair color they were born with, it’s all documented? Would be a quick way to kinda show how the 86 tried to resist, but we get nothing about that, and also can’t be the case cause they was only racism since 9 years ago. 

Do you see how many small things immediately fall apart when this struggle has only been a thing for 9 years?

It’s also difficult for me to believe that Lena is the only handler that has not only not gone insane or not killed herself from being teamed together with the Undertaker squad, but also the only one that’s realized their treatment of them is wrong? And because of her uncle, I guess, she doesn’t really suffer any consequences from speaking up against the Empire, which might make sense in setting (but honestly, she gets away with too much for it to make total sense), but isn’t a very good decision from a narrative point of view. I’m also surprised that the public hasn’t realized the 86 are the ones being killed? Eventually, it’d leak out somehow, and there would be at least some people speaking against it. You know, make it nuanced, instead of basically everybody being a racist piece of shit. Don’t worry tho, they do say that some Albans are good and not racist, but most of them we don’t ever see, they just mention that they’re out there somewhere. Also, why is there a war in the first place? In real life, you know, World War 2 was a thing because Hitler convinced his people that the economic rut they’re in could be fixed with revenge against the rest of the world, or the current war over in Ukraine being because Putin wants to restore the former glory of the USSR. Even in AoT, there are a history of reasons there. We don’t really have any political reasons in 86 though. The whole war against Legion, the military figured out that they will stop functioning in two years, yet somehow haven’t figured out the whole absorbing human brains thing? They don’t even have a backup plan just in case they’re wrong, or the 86 all die before that? Nothing. Also, we finally got some air missiles in EP 9, and I'd like for the show to touch more upon why that isn't used more often. Because if they can just use 86 as resources, rather that?

Honestly, though, 86 isn’t really about racism and dehumanization. It doesn’t really delve into those themes, they’re just kinda there in the background to add a kind of edgy flavor to the series, so it stands out from its peers. Should be evident as they are all still teenagers. They control drones but we have never seen them train and get that experience. They are teenagers. Lena is a highly ranked military member, a major, the strongest one in the entire Republic. She is 16 years old. Make it make sense.

Issue 2: Underdeveloped Cast

Let’s move on to the second issue, which does tie into the first one, but isn’t wholly dependent on it, the characters. Lena is very much your typical LN Mary Sue heroine personality-wise a lot of the time, and constantly switches between this serious idealist, and waifu bait(tripping, blushing, crying a bit too much, etc.). I don’t know why she’s falling for Shin, the guy she just talks ”on the phone” with, and it’s not really about much, and there’s no real chemistry there.

Their interactions just aren’t good enough to warrant a romance yet. And she’s a bit dumb? Sorry Lena lol. Her rhetoric is bad with just repeating the same talking points over and over again (”86 are human too, they’re suffering”), and seems to understand racism, yet was surprised when it was revealed to her that they’re just fighting to die which seemed obvious from episode 1. 

Also, her scene with Annette supposedly breaking down her ideals and hypocrisy just didn’t even make sense?

Shin was easily the one I was the most intrigued by, but he ended up kinda generic? 

Most of the intrigue was with his backstory with his brother, which was really just that he was stressed and took it out on Shin, I guess. I mean, don’t get me wrong, his send-off was a perfectly decent cathartic scene, tho the insert song was way too loud and kinda ruined the moment, but I just, expected a little bit more substance to tug at there. And that’s really all that was set up with Shin. 

I’m sure they’ll do more stuff with him, but what was set up has been executed at least, so my intrigue about him is now gone. Personality-wise, not too much going on either. You know, he just didn’t really end up doing much. Also, his telepathy does seem a bit out of place. The rest of the characters are whatever really. I don’t care for them, because the show hasn’t given us a reason to. They dump all these characters at us from episode 1, and then start killing them off, but if they don’t get substantial characterization, why should I care? In fact, some of them were actively annoying, like Daiya, so I’m glad he died. It’s not enough to just spend time with them and have a little poking fun at their crushes or some beating up the pervs scene, I need actual substance. There’s some potential with the ones left though, I quite enjoyed the SoL in the last few eps, tho I still don’t think it did much characterization-wise, just general atmosphere-wise, it was much more effective than what has been previously. Uhm, let’s just quickly talked about what I liked, cause I’m sure some of you are wondering why my score is a light 6 (my scoring system is fucked up). It looks great, most of the time. It’s one of the better-looking A-1 shows, I’d say. Generally, the directing is strong, though there are the atrocious CG battles and silly food transitions, but most of the time it's strong, and the sound design can be really cool during Lena’s breakdowns, and I like the sketchy censors drawn over faces in Shin’s visions. Music, for being Sawano, who quite frankly has just fallen off in recent years, is pretty bad tho. It’s stereotypically Sawano with its vocal tracks, that are often not appropriate in the scenes they’re in, and otherwise, it’s just piano so bland I can’t tell if it’s more than just one song over and over again. Play some damn violins, they’re the best. I liked what they did for Fido in the end, with the whole camera-perspective send-off.

I also quite liked the last few eps. Have no real issues with them. This is really a series I’d say is quintessentially mediocre, but the last few eps were problem-free so it managed to bump it up to that light 6. 

But that’s it. Plenty of the time it is harmless, and it seems to be improving, but it’s a mostly mediocre series with big world-building issues. 

Score:

Original Twitter Thread: https://twitter.com/Tharizdun03/status/1521882350279434242?s=20&t=WWFjjbVhIH5xR1aw_63oqg

Part 2 Review: https://www.tumblr.com/tharizdun-03/701001430746660864/86-part-2-review?source=share 

#86 #twitter thread

[thirillia]

I finished part 6 and now I too want to decompose in the ocean, where the sun is not a sphere but a streak in the sky, while “Made in Heaven” plays over the sound of crashing waves.

#what a wonderful world #made in heaven #*voice cracks* I’m fine #how am I supposed to deal with the loss of a whole 6 generations #changing characters every part is already hard #but now I should accept that they aren’t even existent and everything they’ve been through has been eradicated from this current universe #alexa play ocean man but slowed #jjba part 6 #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #part 6 stone ocean #part 6 spoilers #stone ocean #jolyne cujoh #jotaro kujo #anasui #hermes costello #weather report #emporio #enrico pucci #thiris shitshow

[seijorhi]

Cry-Baby

A commissioned continuation of this soulmate AU by the lovely @pokemonfreak666 - thanks for your patience, bby!!

Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader, Kirishima Eijiro x Female Reader

TW non-con, nsfw, double penetration, rough fucking, minor mentions of blood, kidnapping

The water’s not hot enough. 

It should be; it should burn. The knob’s twisted all the way up, steam rising in billowing clouds, fogging up the bathroom mirror, but it’s not hot enough. You can still feel them on you. Everything else – the blood, saliva, their cum, you’d watched it swirl down the drain, sitting on the shower floor, arms curled tightly around yourself as if that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart and shattering entirely.

But the water’s scalding, and you can still feel your soulmates’ hands crawling over you…  their mouths… their cocks tearing you apart from the inside out. Why won’t it wash away? You’ve scrubbed and scrubbed, your skin’s red and raw but the filthy feeling won’t go.

And they’re just outside. Sitting in your bedroom, or maybe wandering around your living room, sprawled across your couch flipping through channels on the TV. Maybe they’re out there looking at the pictures that line your walls, you and your family, your friends. Fuck, maybe they’re in your kitchen, rifling through your fridge for a late night snack after fucking their soulmate six ways from Sunday.

You can’t go back out there. You don’t want to see them.

Is it awful to hope for some kind of horrifying villain attack or massive accident to force them to go and leave you in peace?

… Would they? 

You can’t imagine Pro Heroes not running off to do their duty, but before a few hours ago, you couldn’t imagine them holding somebody down and raping them either, and clearly they had no qualms about doing that, so maybe your Heroes aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. 

Then again, what difference would leaving make? They know where you live, probably where you work. There’s no anonymity anymore, it’s not like you can just slip away and hide from them. 

You’ve been in the bathroom too long already, you know that – you can almost feel their anxious energy seeping through the crack in the door. Too much longer and they’ll surely come bursting in. 

Patience clearly wasn’t their strong point, and it’s nothing short of a miracle they let you come in and shower alone. Kirishima at least had been more than eager to come join you, grinning widely and tugging you by the arm towards the bathroom– it’d been Bakugou, watching you pale and flinch through red, unreadable eyes who’d reined him back in. 

Maybe he saw how scared you were, how fragile the thread that was holding you together was. Maybe he thought that gifting you these precious minutes alone after what they did would in any way come close to starting to mend the damage they’d just wrought. 

Maybe he just hadn’t cared enough beyond getting his dick wet. 

You’d grown up thinking your soulmates would make you happy, love you in a way that nobody else ever could. The possibility of ever deliberately hurting them seemed like such a foreign and uncomfortable concept to you. But obviously they didn’t care enough about your feelings or your lack of consent to stop them from forcing themselves onto you, maybe you were nothing but an object to them. Something to take and fuck, because naturally you were made for them.

What did it matter if you didn’t want it? 

Your eyes drift down to the timers on your wrists, run down to zero. A quaking sob rips from your throat and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip to stifle it. 

“Why am I even here? In less than an hour you’re gonna meet them, and what am I supposed to do then, hmm?” your friend had asked with a laugh. “Be the world’s most awkward fourth wheel?”

You’d laughed with her, knocking your shoulders against hers with a fond little smile, “Well if they’re gonna be in my life for the long haul, don't you think it’s important that they meet the person who matters to me the most right off the bat?”

You’re terrified of going back out there and facing them, but what other option do you have? The only window in the bathroom is too high and too small to squeeze through, and even if you could, getting an apartment on the seventh floor had seemed like a great idea at the time, but it doesn’t exactly lend itself to an easy getaway. 

The flimsy lock on the bathroom door is all that’s keeping them out – with their strength it’s hardly much of a barrier at all, but it’s all you have.

Here in your bathroom, under the scalding water, you’re safe. They can’t hurt you.

You’d like to think that now they’ve gotten what they wanted, now that they know that you can’t run and their reputations can’t be tarnished, they’ll go. And there’s a little voice inside your head that tells you it’s a stupid, foolish hope. You know that the moment you set foot outside that door, things’ll never be the same again.

A few years back, you read an article on some tabloid website about an up and coming Hero who’d disappeared out of the blue after joining Hawks’ agency as an intern. Supposedly, they were soulmates, and once the Pro realised it, he’d swooped her up and taken her to some secret safe house to hide her away from the rest of the world, supposedly ‘for her own protection’. It was all rumours, of course. No way for them to actually prove the theory – and no one actually cared about some missing, low level Hero at the end of the day. It was news for a week and then everybody moved on.

Are they gonna do the same thing to you?

Spirit you away to some hideout where they can keep you all to themselves – so they can fuck you whenever they want without having to worry about you running off? You’ll never see your family again, or your friends… they’ll be your entire world, and just like that intern, everybody else will forget you ever existed.

Or maybe they’ll be satisfied enough just forcing themselves into your life, letting you go back to your job, your boring, mundane nine to five, never knowing when they’re going to pop up and take what they want. They’ll come over and play house, acting as if this is a normal relationship, waiting for you to come around and accept them. 

Love them. 

The thoughts makes bile rise in your throat. Your entire body aches from inside out. There’s bitemarks and bruises littering your skin, marks that won’t fade for days… you can’t let them do this to you again.

As if they can hear your panicked thoughts, a knock sounds on the bathroom door, and your heart clenches.

“Hey, babe?” Kirishima calls out, “You okay? You’ve kinda been in there a while…” 

That same voice, chanting breathlessly above you, “I love you, I love you– f-fuck– I love you!”

Panic, cloying and sharp tears at you. You try to answer, tell him to leave you alone, that you need more time, but the words catch in your throat and all that comes out is a pitiful squeak and he knocks again, louder, more insistent and it’s too much.

They're gonna break down the door and hurt you again. Hot tears well up and spill down your cheeks with an audible sob, and you clutch at yourself tighter, willing them away–

“Babe? Talk to us, sweetheart, you’re making us worried.”

The door handle jiggles insistently, and you bury your face between your knees breathing rapidly, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna–

“Move, Kiri,” Bakugou snaps.

You don’t register the snap of the lock breaking or the frantic footsteps that approach, the harsh sound of your heaving gasps drowning out all else. Then suddenly there’s strong, muscular arms pulling you out from the water with a muffled curse.

It’s Kirishima who’s holding you, you realise as a flash of blond darts back behind you to turn the shower off. And it’s suffocating, the way he clutches at you, big hands running along your back, pulling you closer, holding you tighter, words of comfort you can’t hear over the pounding of your own heart spilling from his lips. 

And then Bakugou’s face is filling your vision, the scowl on his face growing more pronounced as he studies you – shaking, teary, eyes wide and swimming with fear– 

Something inside of you just gives and you don’t fight it when the darkness swallows you whole.

—

When you come to, you’re lying on something soft – a bed, you realise, but not your own. There’s an arm slung over your waist; corded with muscles, tan, covered in fine, golden hair and faint white scars; Bakugou’s.

Which means that the warm breath gently tickling at your neck must belong to him as well. 

You’re not naked at least; a quick glance down at your body revealing they’d dressed you in one of your old tees and a pair of panties. You’re not sure whether that observation is supposed to calm or unnerve you; you’d rather be clothed than not, but the thought of your soulmates rifling through your things, dressing you while you were unconscious… is not a pleasant one. 

“You’re awake.” It’s an observation, not a question.  His voice is gruff, an edge of sleepiness clinging to the words, but it lacks the heat you’ve come to expect from the explosive Hero. He sounds comfortable almost – at least that’s the sense you get as his face presses up against the nape of your neck, his arm drawing you closer with a low groan.

Still, you haven’t uttered a sound. 

It feels surreal, lying there in your captor’s arms – and he is your captor, soulmate or no, there’s no denying that fact anymore. There’s a part of you that realises that you should be panicking, kicking scratching and clawing because you don’t know where you are, but it’s certainly not your apartment and you definitely don’t want him touching you after what he’s already put you through. 

But rather than the sheer, unrelenting panic that had gripped you before, it’s just… nothing. Dormant, lying simmering just below the surface, and you’re almost scared to draw breath, to shatter the sweet, tender facade between the two of you.

There’s no point in asking where you are, no point in demanding he let you go. They’ve shown you that what you want doesn’t matter here, so instead you ask the obvious question.

“Where’s Kirishima?”

Bakugou grunts, burrowing himself closer. It’s not cold in the room, but his bare skin burns like a furnace, just on the wrong side of comfortable. “Makin’ breakfast.”

Breakfast. 

You swallow tightly, but Bakugou isn’t done. 

“Scared the shit out of us, fainting like that,” he scoffs. “Should’a fuckin’ known you’d need us to come take care of you.”

His fingers, resting over your stomach, dip lower, sliding roughly beneath the hem of your panties as he grinds his hips along your ass. He’s hard already, you can feel every inch of it, long and thick pressing insistently up against you. 

Shame and indignation flare up like a match struck, but before you can even open your mouth to snap a retort, Bakugou yanks his hand out of your underwear to stuff his fingers inside your mouth.

Your first instinct is to bite down, but the blond at your back just growls, “Suck,” and you’re not stupid enough to think that hurting him (or trying to at least) is going to stop what’s about to happen.

Or maybe you’re just scared to test exactly how far you can push them before they really hurt you. 

Obediently, your tongue swirls around his thick digits, hollowing out your cheeks and earning a grunt of appreciation from your soulmate. 

“Always thought that my soulmate was gonna be someone strong,” he mutters, his hips still rocking up against yours. “Somebody who could keep up with Kiri ‘n me, hold their own in a fight. Never thought you’d be some weak as shit, quirkless little cry-baby.”

It stings more than it has any right to. 

Slowly, his fingers slide from your lips, a long, thin glistening strand of saliva connecting the two. It’s hard to fight the whine that escapes you as they return to your pussy, angrily shoving aside your panties before thinking better of it and ripping them off of you completely. The warm puff of breath that ghosts across your skin sends shivers down your spine, and though you can’t see his face when he speaks next you can tell that he’s grinning.

“But fuck, sweetheart, you’re goddamn perfect – everythin’ we didn’t know we needed.”

He kisses you as his index and middle fingers plunge eagerly into your cunt, not the rough, biting kisses he’d gifted you with the night before, no. These are almost tender, sweet – or at least as sweet as a monster like Bakugou is capable of – entirely at odds with way his calloused fingers curl inside of you, fucking you, stretching you out while he cruelly thumbs at your clit.

Katsuki wants you strung out and whining for him. For Kirishima.

He wants you helpless.

“We’re gonna keep you nice ‘n safe, baby. Won’t have to worry about a goddamn fucking thing ‘cept keepin’ your soulmates happy.”

It sounds more like the passing of a sentence than a reassurance, but you can’t tell him that you don’t want this. He knows – he has to by now. He just doesn't care.

You don’t hear it when Kiri comes back, not when Bakugou’s sucking at your neck, your pussy throbbing with need as his fingers drive relentlessly into you, hitting your g-spot with every flick of his wrist.

You might not have noticed the redhead lingering in the doorway, his cock tenting in his pants, eyes dark and glazed over as he watches the show unfolding before him, but Bakugou certainly does.

“Oi, shitty hair. You just gonna stand there and watch or are you actually gonna fucking do something?” His voice is rough and a little breathless, closer to a growl than speech – it makes your gut clench, a shiver run down along your spine.

When your eyes finally do meet Kirishima’s, your heart squeezes, your stomach flipping. Kirishima’s staring at you like a wolf readying itself to pounce, like he wants to devour every inch of you and savour the taste.

He grins widely, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Bakugou’s the one with the bad reputation – as explosive as his quirk, brash at the best of times and overly aggressive even with his friends – you have every reason to be terrified of him, even before he broke into your home to take you. 

Kirishima might be kinder, gentler with his touches (at least, he tries to be), but you’re a fool if you think you’re any safer with the redhead. 

“Thought you said you were gonna wait,” he says, advancing towards the two of you as he kicks out of his shorts, but the grin on his face doesn’t waver for a second. He’s not nearly as put out as he pretends. “I could hear the pretty little thing moaning all the way in the kitchen.”

Shame would be enough to flood your cheeks with heat, but it’s the sight of Kiri’s cock, flushed an angry red, veiny and thick, hanging heavy between his muscular thighs that does the job. The spit in your mouth dries, your heart thumping unevenly even as pleasure pools in your gut courtesy of Bakugou’s attention. You let out a sharp shriek as he quickens his pace, one hand reaching to grab at his wrist, the other clutching desperately for purchase at the bedsheets, but it’s not enough. 

Heat burns at your core, and unwittingly, you find your hips bucking up against him, fervently searching for more.

At your back, the blond chuckles, you feel the deep vibrations echoing through your chest, “Yeah, well you were taking too long.” 

There might be more that he says, but at that moment he slides a third finger into your dripping cunt, calloused fingertips slamming against your tight, gummy walls and you’re robbed of the ability to think. 

Your first orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, the building pleasure snapping like an elastic band stretched too far. A strangled moan slips out of your lips, and you don’t even notice the teeth sinking into your shoulder, Bakugou once more staking his claim as you cum for him. You quiver and quake in his grip, your cunt tightening around his digits and sucking them in further with a lewd squelching sound that you might be more embarrassed about if you could focus on anything but the pleasurable aftershocks of your peak.

All the while, Kirishima drinks you in, salivating at the sight of your drooling, fucked out expression, the syrupy slick that’s all but dripping out around Bakugou’s thick fingers, still stuffed deep inside of your pussy.

And maybe if he were a better man, he might allow you a moment to breathe and hurtle back down to earth, but patience has never been a virtue of his. He lunges forward faster than a man of his size has any right to, jumping onto the bed and all but tearing you out of Bakugou’s hold. You’re still reeling, panting and sore and dizzy with pleasure as Kirishima’s lips crash against yours, stealing what little breath you have left in a burning kiss.

Your attention’s caught on the way his tongue’s sliding against yours, trying to coax you into kissing back, the sharp, minty taste of him – you miss the way he grasps at his flushed, leaking cock, dragging it along your puffy slit. You miss the sound of Bakugou shedding his own pants.

You’re still weakly trying to push at his chest when Kiri slides his cock into your warm, welcoming cunt, his low, guttural moan lost to your lips. And despite Bakugou’s attempts at preparing you, it still burns, the sheer girth of his fat cock filling you up and stretching you uncomfortably. Tears sting at your eyes, a whimper catching in your throat as he hums in pleasure, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, impaling you further onto his length.

Yet you’re not given a moment to accommodate the massive cock inside of you – not as you feel another blunt, flushed cockhead pressing up against your already stuffed pussy. Realisation hits a moment too late, your face blanching, your heart skipping a beat as panic – sheer panic – chokes at you.

You try to push back from Kiri’s embrace, only to feel Bakugou once again pressing up against your back, trapping you between them. You squirm in vain, trying to kick and push, fighting even as the blond’s cock, not as girthy as Kirishima’s but still far too big for you to take with Kiri still inside of you, starts to force its way into your plush, velvety walls.

“F-fuck, she’s tight,” he grunts as you arch up against Kiri, your tits, still covered by your thin, cotton tee, squishing up against his bare chest in an attempt to writhe away from the overwhelming feeling of fullness, the burning, stinging, throbbing pain between your legs.

But your soulmates are far from considerate, not even as you start to wail, your nails raking down the redhead’s broad shoulders. 

“Your pussy’s a fuckin’ dream,” he continues, swearing with a hiss as he finally bottoms out.

It’s too much, you feel like you’re being split in two. Every twitch and throb of their dicks, every vein, every inch of them is pressed too tightly against you, your walls struggling to take them both. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, oh god it hurts so fucking bad, but neither one of them care as you start to sob–

No, Kiri just kisses away your tears, taking your face in his large hands and cooing sweetly when you beg them through gasping, heaving sobs to stop.

“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Look how well you’re taking our cocks – it’s like you were made for us,” he laughs at his own stupid joke, and all you can focus on is the pain as he starts to draw his hips back, your oversensitive walls screaming in protest. “We’re gonna make you feel so fucking amazing, just wait.”

And it’s not his wide, beaming grin that shatters you, or even the hunger blazing in those crimson depths. It’s not Bakugou panting at your back, his hands coming up to shove your top up so he can palm greedily at your tits, or even the lewd almost feral sounds the explosion Hero’s making as he and Kirishima settle into a maddening rhythm, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath and steady yourself as they fuck you.

No, it’s the sheer, feverish love you can see written across his face clear as day, the softness with which he holds you, even as he chases his own pleasure.

This is their version of love, and you – quirkless, weak as shit and entirely at their mercy – have no hope in hell of escaping it. 

#yandere bnha #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere bakugou katuski x reader #yandere kirishima eijiro x reader #yandere bakugou x reader #yandere kirishima x reader #tw non con #tw kidnapping #tw blood #it's like one mention but still #me posting this when my dash is dead instead of at 2am #more likely than you think

[delimeful]

hold my body down (2)

chapter 2 of this fic!

warnings: arguing, mild violence, cult mentions, mild gore mentions

-

Virgil stared at the man, his mind blank. What?

“That’s-- great?” Roman tried, his voice cracking in the middle with bewilderment. The human beamed, beckoning with his hand. Roman reached out and Virgil slapped his hand back, glowering at him.

“What have I said about accepting help from random friendly men?” he hissed, eyeing the stranger warily. Roman flushed, shoving him slightly, but notably didn’t try to move forward again.

The man-- Patton’s smile didn’t falter, but his hand dropped slightly. Virgil refused to feel bad. For once, he was completely sure that his level of paranoia was necessary for the situation.

“Oh, that’s okay,” Patton said, folding onto his knees to sit on the edge of the bag’s opening. “I can just explain from over here. I would come to sit in the bag with you, but last time I did that I got held hostage and Logan put a ban on interacting with terrified strangers without his direct supervision.”

“That, uh, seems rather fair,” Roman offered, still wildly out of his depth. Virgil rolled his eyes, a hand on the hilt of one of his daggers in case the stranger made any sudden moves.

“Who’s Logan?” He asked, eyes flickering up to what little he could see through the opening.

“Oh, he’s the one who rescued you!” Patton said cheerily. Virgil broke out into a cold sweat immediately.

“Rescued?” Roman echoed in disbelief. “Are you talking about the giant? Because I’m pretty sure he just abducted us against our will.”

“No, no, it’s not like that!” Patton insisted, only confirming Virgil’s theory that he was probably brainwashed and/or had Stockholm syndrome. Or both. Or a variety of other, worse options, such as yet another cult member or another giant in disguise.

“Easy, Virgil.” Roman laid a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “Uh-- Patton, was it? If we’re not being… y’know… kidnapped and imprisoned, do you think you could back up so we can get out of the bag?”

“Of course!” Patton answered, popping back to his feet. “I’ll be right out here, take your time! I’m sure the last couple of hours have been rough.”

Virgil tried not to snort. Rough was one word for it. His amusement died a quick death when Roman began moving towards the opening. He latched onto the other man’s arm like a steel trap. “I don’t trust this.”

“You don’t trust anything,” Roman retorted automatically before softening. “It’s okay, I’m just checking to see what’s out there. Won’t even get out of the bag, on my honor.”

Virgil reluctantly followed him, grabbing onto him tightly as though he could keep anything out there from hurting him by yanking him back into the bag.

Roman ducked his head back under the cloth a moment later. “Okay. Bad news, there is absolutely a giant still out there. Good news, he’s all the way over across the room, reading a book. He is steadfastly ignoring both us and Patton, who waved at me.”

“What.” Virgil clutched at his hair. “What is going on?”

“I suspect we’ll have to ask Patton that. If we want answers, we’ll have to go get them,” He said, patting Virgil on the back encouragingly. “Don’t worry, my Dark and Stormy Knight, I’ll keep you safe.”

“My job,” Virgil grumbled, not releasing his grip on Roman’s wrist as he led the way out of the bag.

Everything was huge. He should have expected it, seeing as this was a giant’s home, but it still threw him off. They were on a huge table, in a huge living room, and the giant was indeed across the room with a huge book, pretending like they didn’t exist. From this distance, Virgil could actually take in all of him without feeling like he was going to pass out.

Patton was sitting a few feet away, and beamed at their approach. Virgil barely tore his eyes away from the giant long enough to nod distractedly at him. “Hi again! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re… fine,” Roman said, uncertain. “I think we’d just like to know what’s going on?”

“That’s totally understandable!” Patton replied, sympathetic. “I was pretty jittery after Logan first brought me here, too!”

“Oh, great,” Virgil muttered to Roman. “Serial kidnapper.”

Roman shot him a look before turning back to Patton. “He brought you here? Could I ask… why?”

“The same reason he brought you two here! I was in danger.” Patton glanced over to the giant with a fond smile before leaning in secretively. “To be honest, I think he was even more worried than I was! I was sort of stabbed at the time, though, so I guess that makes sense.”

“How were you ‘sort of stabbed’? You’re either stabbed or you’re not!” griped Virgil, who was possibly feeling more snappish than normal after one of the most stressful experiences of his life.

“My goodness, you were stabbed?” asked Roman, who had always been a sucker for a dramatic tale.

Patton tugged up the edge of his shirt, displaying a nasty-looking scar that curved around his side and stomach. In Virgil’s professional opinion, there was nothing ‘sort-of’ about a wound like that; it had been meant to kill. “Yeah, the people you met in town, they’re a cult! And they wanted to do a blood sacrifice for the monsters in the woods, and I wasn’t exactly well-liked, so…,”

“They stabbed you and left you for dead?” Virgil finished, a bit of anger leaking into his voice despite his determination not to sympathize with this guy.

“But I didn’t die!” Patton waved his hands a bit as though in celebration. “All the monsters in the woods had already been scared off when Logan moved here, and so he was the one who found me and helped me recover!”

Roman glanced over at the giant again, a speculative look in his eye that Virgil absolutely did not approve of. He scowled, his grip on Roman’s wrist tightening slightly.

“Right, and he just did this out of the goodness of his heart?” Virgil snorted dubiously. “I wouldn’t believe that from another human, let alone someone with a literally huge advantage over us. If your story is true, why didn’t the cult try to gut us? For that matter, if he’s not into human sacrifices, why wouldn’t your buddy over there just tell them to stop? Or, y’know, not kidnap us in the first place?”

“Well, hold on--,” Patton tried, but Virgil was on a roll.

“How do we know that this isn’t some elaborate setup? If he has the magical capabilities to heal a mortal wound, then wouldn’t it be easy for him to enchant a captive into believing that he’s just doing what’s best for him? Before, you said there were other people brought here-- what happened to them? Do you even know?”

Across the room, there was a sharp clap as the giant firmly snapped his book shut.

“They left,” Logan said firmly, the first words that they’d heard from him. “And if you continue to harangue my housemate, I will ask you to do the same.”

“Logan,” Patton said, a little exasperated.

Virgil felt a chill run down his spine at the sight of those huge, dark eyes locked onto him, but he plastered his best snarl on even as he dragged a protesting Roman partially behind him. “We’d be glad to leave, but someone put us on a table ten times our height!”

“Virgil,” Roman tried, but Virgil didn’t have the luxury of not paying attention to the pissed off giant in front of them.

“There’s a staircase down to your left,” the giant informed him coldly, “so if you are intent on watching your companion die from organ combustion, you have my utmost permission to leave.”

Logan!” Patton chided, a lot exasperated. He turned back to them. “He doesn’t mean it like that, I promise.”

“Really?” Virgil snapped, crowding Roman back further. “Because it sure sounds like he just outright threatened to kill us if we leave.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose before rising easily from his chair and reminding them all just how big he truly was. “This is why I let Patton handle the talking. I don’t know why humans always insist on making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

Virgil’s heart jumped into his throat as the giant approached, a thousand potential ways they were going to die flashing before his eyes. Behind his back, he flashed Roman a hand sign that meant ‘run for it’, and then released his friend’s wrist to draw one of his knives threateningly.

It was a pointless effort, but he’d known since setting out with his prince that one day he’d die for him.

Sure enough, the giant moved with that same uncanny speed he’d shown in the clearing, and simply grabbed Virgil’s forearm between his fingers as easily as one might scruff a cat, preventing any stabbing.

When Virgil immediately went to grab for another knife with his free hand, he found himself abruptly lifted and maneuvered, and couldn’t help letting out a startled yelp. The giant had essentially flipped him onto his front and settled one hand on his back as a weight, leaving him pinned and the giant firmly out of stabbing range.

More concerning was the fact that he could now see Roman, who hadn’t moved more than a few steps, and not just because he was a stupidly loyal, headstrong idiot. The prince seemed almost dazed, his skin shiny with sweat as he glanced between Virgil and Logan. Something was wrong. “Roman--!”

“You’re beginning to feel it, aren’t you?” Logan said, his cold tone thawing slightly as he looked down at Roman. “The cult of that town has only grown more... inventive with every cruel sacrifice they attempt. Rather than physical injuries, they’ve turned to blood curses, which has made my life exceedingly difficult.”

“Blood-- Blood curses?” Roman managed, looking more pallid by the moment.

The giant set a free hand down, palm up in offering. “I can reduce the effects. If you give me sufficient time, I can unravel the curse entirely, though brewing a countercurse will likely necessitate a drop of your blood.”

“Why go to the trouble?” Roman asked haltingly, meeting Virgil’s frantic gaze for only a moment. “What do you want in return?”

Logan sighed. “If you insist on applying such intentions to my actions, you can call it compensation. It is because of my presence that the cult continues to leave ‘offerings’, and thus your current state is my fault.”

“Then why not just do it?” Roman asked, staring at the offered hand with clear suspicion. Virgil was almost proud.

“Patton has gone to great lengths to teach me manners for interacting with smallfolk,” Logan replied dryly. “The first of which being ‘don’t grab.’”

There was a brief moment of silence as they all looked to Virgil, who was still pinned and sorely wishing he was in biting range of Logan’s hand.

“Manners don’t apply if someone is trying to stab me,” Logan added, a beat late.

Patton waved from where he was half-hidden behind Logan’s arm. “It’s true, my lessons did make an exception for stabbing!”

“Let him up,” Roman requested, his voice lacking its usual bravado. He still appeared concerningly ill. “He won’t stab you, right Virgil?”

Virgil grumbled something uncomplimentary under his breath, before sighing and going limp. “All I want is to protect my prince. If you actually mean to help him, I won’t stab you.”

“Now that stabbing is off the table, I’ve gotta say, it’s knife to meet you,” Patton chimed in, his grin audible in his voice.

“Patton, please,” Logan groaned, lifting his hand off Virgil to instead massage his temples in exasperation. “You’re going to disturb our guests.”

“Aw, are you sure? I think my jokes are stabsolutely hilarious!”

Virgil ignored the ridiculous byplay between the two of them to scramble to his feet and hurry to Roman’s side, ignoring the way Logan moved his arm slightly to be between him and Patton. “Roman, are you okay?”

“Are you? You’re the one who just got gently tenderized by Bignoramus over there for the second time today,” Roman countered, matching Virgil’s whisper.

“Fine, stupid question, clearly neither of us are okay. Are we really doing this, though? We could still run.”

“I’m… not sure we can, actually.” Roman’s hand hovered over his chest, face drawn tight with pain. “They definitely did something to me, and I doubt either of us will figure out how to fix it or get aid in time. … Look. This may be my only option, but you don’t have to--”

“Can it, Princey,” Virgil cut in, dragging a hand through Roman’s hair roughly and ignoring his resulting squawk. “Where you go, I go.”

“Even there?” Roman asked, tilting his head toward Logan’s palm somberly.

Virgil looked over to Logan, watching the attentive way he was listening to Patton speak and contributing words of his own. The giant could have done away with any of them at any point, and he hadn’t. That wasn’t enough to really trust him, it could still all be part of some scheme, but... it had to count for something.

If it was the only thing that could help Roman, Virgil could push aside his fear and his anger.

“Even there,” he answered, and led the way onwards.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #hmbd #hold my body down #g/t #my writing #writing #man its been ages since i posted the first chapter of this huh #surprise!

[hxneydreamers]

i genuinely don’t understand why would people manifest their sp to turn “good” and be a better person with them even after they cheated or were overall not a good person to them. like no!! you deserve someone who is naturally not a fucking asshole!! please run!! i promise you’ll find better!!!

SHOULD I MOVE ON FROM MY SP?

Hey! Let me begin by saying that you have made a great point that I would love to cover in full here, not just to answer your question, but for anyone else who is reading this and is feeling doubtful and like they should move on.

So sorry that this is long, but it's a very important topic to cover and I'm very thankful that you prompted me to discuss it. I'm not trying to force you to believe this is true, you may not want to believe the law of assumption and that's ok because it's your life, I'm simply trying to explain why people do decide to manifest a specific person back because you said that you genuinely didn't understand why they would do that.

Before I go into this, I'll state that I PERSONALLY DO NOT ADVISE YOU TO MOVE ON OR DROP YOUR SP UNLESS THAT'S GENUINELY WHAT YOU WANT! I am definitely NOT encouraging people to drop their manifestations here and I will never limit anyone's belief. HERE IS WHY:

Would you tell someone that wants to improve their self-esteem to run away from the idea, because they've never had good self-esteem before? Would you tell someone who wants $1 000 000 to run away from the idea that this could be good for them because they've never had this much money before? Would you tell someone who wants to improve the health of a family member and cannot afford the healthcare or surgery they need for this to be 'possible' to just give up and move on, because things just are the way they are?

With the law of assumption, NOTHING is set in stone and NOTHING just 'is the way it is'. EVERYTHING is mailable. You should not succumb to the 3D and surrender to your circumstances, because you are the one controlling them, and by allowing yourself to just let things be, you are just giving those circumstances more power.

With regards to your message, I completely understand where you're coming from and I get that you only want to encourage people to accept 100% from people at all times, which I agree with. However, the difference is that your definition of only accepting 100% from people stems from the idea that people just naturally are the way they are and the only way to find what you want is to walk away from your SP and find someone who gives you this right off the bat. MY opinion, however, stems from my knowledge of the law of assumption, which means that all versions of people exist at the same time and you have the power to tap into the version of your SP who DOES give you 100% right off the bat.

I appreciate that you only want to empower people by telling them to walk away from those who have hurt them, I completely get it and I love that you are trying to help people by getting them to move forward onto someone 'better', but this is unfortunately the kind of limiting belief that we have to ignore if we really want to manifest someone specific. If someone still wants to be with an SP who has cheated, as per your example, they can, not only simply because they want to, but because (and this is what I would like you to try to understand) if they do manifest being in a loyal and loving relationship with their SP, they are not going to be with the same SP who cheated on them. THIS IS THEM MOVING FORWARD TO SOMETHING BETTER, only it's the same SP, just the version of them from a different reality that IS naturally inclined to treat them amazingly in order to reflect their new and stronger self-concept.

The whole idea is that multiple versions of people exist at the same time, they aren't manifesting the person who cheated on them to change, they're manifesting the version of themself who does not experience bad treatment from their partners, or anyone else for that matter.

In my posts about SP's, I have stated that when you manifest a specific person, you are not CHANGING anyone else, you are changing YOURSELF. You are simply improving your self-concept and self-esteem in order to step into your power and become the version of yourself that no one would dare to hurt. You become the version of yourself that is treasured and treated like a king/queen/ruler.

With all due respect, what you are saying is coming from too logical a perspective for the law of assumption, and the thing is that if you want to start to make the law work in your favour, you need to let go of logic and every limiting belief you have ever been taught that tells you that some things are just 'out of your control'.

Everyone is, and has always been manifesting, whether it's on purpose or not. Manifestation is not magic or a technique that you just decide to try, it is called the LAW of assumption for a reason. It is a law- it's the way things work. Everyone and everything operates under the law of assumption at all times, that's the whole point. Human consciousness and imagination have the power, and whatever they believe and focus on will always reflect back to you somehow, and it has always been doing this your whole life, you just weren't doing it on purpose.

Making people aware of the law of assumption is simply alerting people to the fact that this is how we have always operated without knowing, and to help people learn to use this to their advantage and start making specific things happen for them on purpose so that they can experience what they want! Since the law will always exist and always reflect our thoughts back to us anyway, we may as well make it work FOR us, right?

There really is no room for logic in the law of assumption, because manifestation is not really logical in that it is not in line with anything that we have been taught. Manifestations unfold in a way that may seem logical in the 3D, because in order for your reality to shift from one to the other, certain things must unfold to cause the domino effect that brings about your manifestation (this is called the 'bridge of incidents'), but that happens because our minds wouldn't be able to comprehend it otherwise, and if things manifested instantly, the world would be chaotic.

Also, (this is the most important part here), if you say that people should choose someone who is not 'NATURALLY an asshole', you should know this. You may not understand the law of assumption, so I understand your point from that perspective, but the thing is that nothing in your reality is final or naturally going to be/act a certain way because they are not acting of their own free will, they are only reflecting your inner assumptions, because you are in the reality where you are someone who believes this can happen.

If you first meet someone and they are an asshole to you, this does not mean they are naturally an asshole, it means that you have the belief that there is a possibility that people can be an asshole to you, whether you think that you deserve it or not. Following this first encounter with the person, you will now have the belief that they just are an asshole, and this is why you will continue to only experience them that way. Your 3D reality literally has NO CHOICE but to conform to your assumptions and dominant beliefs and thoughts, because this is the law!

People that want to manifest an SP need to recognise and understand that their SP's actions are only reflective of the way that they have been describing/constructing them in their mind and imagination, but what's MORE, is that their SP's actions towards them are also a reflection of the way they think of themselves as well.

If I were to have experienced being in a relationship with an SP who didn't prioritise me, then this is likely a reflection of the fact that I don't prioritise myself and do not see myself as important enough for others to prioritise, in turn. I may have insecurities that caused this, or I may simply believe that it is just possible for me to be treated like this by someone, because 'that's just how the world works. There are good people and bad people.' False. None of these circumstances matter and all of this can literally stop existing if I were to work on my self-concept and step into the version of myself that is always ALWAYS TREATED LIKE A GODDESS! This completely eliminates the possibility of ANYONE treating me like I'm less than number one, INCLUDING AN SP! Your SP is as easy to manifest as any person or thing, the only reason it may seem like a bigger deal is because of emotional attachment to the situation.

I would honestly never advise someone to just give up on an SP and move on to someone new, and this is why:

1. If they give up on their SP then they are basically surrendering to the 3D and giving the SP power. I would never encourage someone to do this, as this implies that their circumstances are just too hard to overcome, but the fact of the matter is that CIRCUMSTANCES DO NOT MATTER! THIS is why they can manifest an SP, regardless of what 'has happened' or not.

2. If they give up on their SP and move on to someone new in hopes of 'finding someone better' without having changed their beliefs and assumptions first, this could result in them repeating the same cycle all over again with the new person, because they still have the same negative beliefs and have not improved their self-concept! Let's say for example I am manifesting an SP who cheated on me and didn't prioritise me and then I decide to just pick a new SP. More than likely, the new SP is also not going to treat me how I deserve to be treated because I still haven't done anything to address the issue at hand, which is NOT that the SP is a dickhead, it's that I have the assumption that I'm not prioritised in my relationships. Sooner or later, you'll have to deal with your self-concept, because you'll just end up going through the same shit with a different SP. There is no running away from this, moving on to someone new is not going to magically make it all better, moving on to a new way of thinking is what will help.

3. The past is not even real. The past feels real and exists because we experienced it once and we have emotions attached to it, but after it has 'happened' in the 3D, it only exists in your memories- aka your IMAGINATION. If you want to keep living in the reality where this stuff has happened to you and you keep feeling the ripple effects of this event, then go on and keep feeding that memory energy by thinking about it and giving it life, but if you make the decision to revise it or just completely abandon the notion that this bad thing has happened to you and you move forward with new beliefs and change your thinking for the better, you can literally change the past and how you feel as a result. Think of life as a choose your own adventure novel, however literally EVERY POSSIBILITY YOU CAN IMAGINE EXISTS! You can select any reality you want and if you really want it, you should put in the work, and then it will manifest. This means that there is a reality where this past event did not even happen, this is how people can change their appearance and health, and this is how people can recover a relationship from past 'cheating' instances, by not giving any power to the past and choosing the reality where this has never happened to them and never could because they are the prize!

4. When you are manifesting an SP, you obviously affirm for yourself and your self-concept and you begin to change into a more confident and powerful version of yourself, yes? When this happens, you take the SP off the pedestal and put yourself on it, which actually in some cases can result in you losing attachment to your SP and deciding to go for someone/something new. So some people do end up moving on to a new person, but only because they might feel liberated by losing emotional attachment to their person. It is ultimately a personal choice if people decide to continue with their SP or move on, but there is no right or wrong here. There is nothing wrong with you staying with the same person or choosing someone new. It's your reality and you have the power and you have the right to decide for yourself.

You can advise people to move on with the best intentions, but nothing you say or do is really going to change the fact that people still have feelings for an SP and want to fix their circumstances with them. Ultimately, people want what they want, and if they still have feelings for their SP and want to be with a better version of them, despite their 'past actions', they have the right to do it, because it is THEIR reality. If you really think its best for people to just move on, then you should know that if they choose to go down the path of consciously manifesting a better version of their SP back, they ARE moving on to someone new - and lucky them, because they get the specific person that they love, and they get to experience them in an incredible, healthy and loving way! <3

You do you - and if you believe for yourself that it's better to move on to a completely new person, that's absolutely fine and you should do that for yourself if you're ever faced with the situation because that's what will be true in your reality. It is your reality after all and you make the rules, but when it comes to other people manifesting a specific person for themselves, they have the choice and they have the right to decide what's best for them, no one else. <3

#manifest #manifestation #manifesting #manifestyourreality #manifesting secrets #affirmations #how to manifest #manifestmoney #manifestyourdreams #manifest love #manifestmagic #manifestingmindset #manifestingreality #manifestingmagic #manifestyourlife #im manifesting #manifesting this #mantra #mindset #empower #lifeadvice #lifelessons #affirm #love affirmations #money affirmations #positive affirmations #affirmation #life affirming #affirmyourlife #affirmdaily

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Can I have Some Yandere Addams family, since it's spooks season.

Yandere Addams Family (platonic)

(Sorry if this is all over the place. Also, my birthday's coming up next week so you're girl's been dealing with that.) Hope this is what you were looking for, anon🥰💚.

The Addams Family is like no other, their the complete opposite actually. They revel in their family traditions and overall aesthetic, they have no need nor care for what others or society say is appropriate or 'right'. Family is what matters to them most, like anyone else, but their tactics and way of thinking aren't quite the same.

Their obsessive behavior and tendencies honesty wouldn't really garner any more attention then they already do by generally being themselves. They're all already weird and abnormal, their obsessiveness would be what people see as the Addams family being normal. The whole family would fuel each other's obsessions without a doubt, encouraging their behavior and actions.

You'll have a whole family of what everyone else refers to as freaks by your side, through thick and thin, willing to do anything and everything for you. Nothing could ever possibly tear you all apart, whether that's what you want or not. Your new family would rather be damned then be away from you and each other for even a second. They don't care if their outcasted by everyone else, as long as they have you and are all together then nothing could ever break them.

The Addamses are fiercely protective of each other, especially their newest family member; you. They've been put through a lot and they'd rather not be ran out of their home again or unnecessarily murdered by a gold digger. Speaking of which, whatever love interests you may have or lovers, they won't be trusted by any of your family. Not after what they endured with Fester's girlfriend. They especially don't trust any partner or lover to care for you the way you need and deserve, that's why you should stay with your family.

No matter what type of personality you have or aesthetic you show, once the Addamses see you as family there's no way you could possibly escape them. They would follow you to the ends of the earth, what a vacation that would be. You couldn't even runaway to the worst imaginable places in existence because they would definitely follow you there, thinking of it as a wonderful family vacation. Not to mention they would have the whole clan looking for you.

Morticia is extremely protective of her family, and can be a little possessive when she feels like it. She would do absolutely anything for her family and especially for her children. Anyone who dares to try and say or do anything in regards to her family, she's more then willing to tear them to shred with her words and threats. Now, if that doesn't work then she'll pick from any of her many weapons and take matters into her own hands. Don't mess with the matriarch of the Addamses. (Also, Morticia would be more then willing to teach you french.)

Gomez loves to show off whatever and whenever he can, besides, he has plenty to show off. Whatever attention and praise you give him, he craves for more, give him an inch and he'll take a mile. He would love to teach you how to sword fight, especially if you end up landing any hits on him, he would be so proud and awestruck.

Uncle Fester would always be trying to make you laugh, even using his signature lightbulb in the mouth trick. He would also be more than willing to blow up anything, or anyone, for you. Hell, he'll gift you as much dynamite and explosives anyone could ever ask for, he'll even tell you the best places to use them and the maximum boom you'll get.

Wednesday is the hardest one to get to accept or welcome anything outside the ordinary for them, especially when her family is concerned. She's a lot like her mother in that sense, protective to a T and always keeping an eye out for the family. Wednesday is cunning and calculating, she knows how to get her way, whether working behind the scenes or not. She knows how to take care of business when she feels the need to get her hands dirty, and she has no problem getting as dirty and bloody as she has to to not only ensure she gets what she wants but to also keep it or them.

Pugsley can be an all out hellion, causing whatever trouble, mayhem, and chaos he can get his hands on. He'd cause whatever chaos he had to to make you feel better, he likes when you pay attention to whatever trouble he has a part in. Especially when you praise him for doing a good job at terrorizing anyone and everyone.

The whole family would be criticizing and judging towards anyone you bring to meet them or generally have in your life outside of them. They don't think anyone is exactly worthy of being with you outside of them. They can get a little jealous of the time you spend away from them, even venturing out to bring you home or inviting themselves along to whatever you had plan or wherever you were going off to.

You won't have a moments peace ever again, or to begin with, while being part of this spooky and bizarre family. As weird and off putting they are to others, they are still a loving family to those they consider family or close to it. They would do anything for their family, no matter the immortality or messiness of it.

#yandere addams family #yandere writings #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #platonic imagine #platonic x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #addams family imagine

[khentkawes]

Tony Stark-antis need to learn some chill and basic narrative comprehension skills. Like really? Again with this bullshit?

Dude, we are ONE episode into Falcon and the Winter Solider and people are already using it as an excuse to resurrect anti-Tony Stark bad takes. Like... WTF fandom? Do we really have to go through this with every single post-Endgame mcu project? Really? When are ya all gonna learn some comprehension skills and actually pick up on what the narrative is trying to say?

Say it with me: the bank loan scene was a not-very-subtle jab at systemic racism and the way black veterans have been treated in American for decades. It’s not an excuse to anti on about how “tOnY sTaRk DiDnT pAy ThE aVeNgErS CuZ hE’s A eVIL bILLIonAiRe!”

Are you all so afraid of talking about systemic racism that you have to blame Tony Stark for Sam not getting a bank loan? Really? After a year of BLM protests and extensive awareness-raising for systemic racism, and y’all still don’t get it?

That’s the real world issue that the narrative was trying to lay out, and it’s the in-universe explanation for that scene, which is trying to address out-of-universe real-world issues. But now let me be petty and go back to the in-universe issues of whether Sam got paid... because this whole take is just pissing me off and I have to rant. So...

Sam hasn’t had a paying job in seven years, and he chose to leave the Avengers when he defied the Sokovia Accords because he blindly follows everything Cap says without ever thinking for himself. He’s been badly written ever since he showed up at the end of Age of Ultron. And that bad writing means he’s just been playing as Cap’s lackey, and in doing so, he CHOSE to leave the Avengers, to reject a government paycheck, and take his chances on the run for two years as a fugitive. So yeah. Two years, no job, no pay. And as far as we can tell, he didn’t do a whole lot of awesome saving-the-world in those two years either. He was just hiding out with Cap and maybe punching a couple of low-level terrorists or something .There certainly weren’t any alien invasions that he stopped in that time. And after that, he was dust for five years. That’s not his fault, obviously, but no one can expect to collect a paycheck while they don’t exist. That’s why the post-Blip economy is probably a bit wonky at the moment. So in total... seven years. No job. No paycheck. Part of that is consequences of Sam’s actions and part of it was through no fault of his own. But yeah, after seven years with no paycheck, there’s a good chance he’s got money issues. Did banks seize assets of those who were blipped? Totally possible.

But now, in-universe, let’s remember that all this bullshit that antis are spewing about “Tony Stark should have set aside money for his friends and teammates” and “Sam saved the world from aliens so many times, so he deserves a pension” and “Tony could set up a trust fund for all of the avengers because they’re his friends!” Yeah. That’s all 100% BS.

First off, Sam Wilson and Tony Stark are not friends in the MCU. Never have been. In Civil War, Tony said, “I know we don’t know each other very well” because they don’t! They’ve NEVER FOUGHT TOGETHER ON THE SAME TEAM! Think about that. Tony wasn’t an active duty avenger between Age of Ultron and Civil War, and that’s the only time period where Sam was an active avenger. So they were never really “teammates” and they weren't friends. They were, at best, acquaintances or coworkers who never worked closely together.

And during that time, when Tony appears to have had little contact with the avengers, he was bankrolling the team. He says, “what, am I doing here? Running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” He made the compound and supplied all of the avengers’ tech. He gave them free room and board. It sure looks like they had everything they needed, so it’s entirely possible (even likely) that Tony was paying the Avengers during this time. But that’s all it was. Two years when Sam was an active avenger, Tony wasn’t, but Tony was still bankrolling the team. After that... Sam was a fugitive and then he was dust. So he spent 7 years with no job, and two of those years were by choice, because of Sam’s rejection of being an avenger and refusal to accept a government paycheck. He chose to be a vigilante with Cap, and vigilantism doesn’t supply a paycheck on its own.

And finally... Sam has never saved the world! And he’s only fought aliens during Infinity War and Endgame. So where are people getting this whole, “but Sam should be paid because hE sAvEd tHe wOrLd!”? Uh, no. Not really. He helped in Endgame. He tried to help in Infinity War. And that’s good. That’s important. It’s not nothing. But it’s also not saving the world. In this first episode of TFATWS, Sam literally accepted thanks from a guy who said “you brought my wife back,” when Sam had nothing to do with that. Bruce snapped and brought back all the dusted. Sam had no role in helping for that. Now I get that Sam was probably just being polite. But it’s contributing to this narrative that Sam did more then he actually did. Naw, man. Marvel never cared about Sam Wilson until five minutes ago. So they’ve never actually shown him doing anything that was, well, important. And that’s a fail on Marvel, but if we’re looking at it from a purely in-universe perspective... Sam Wilson doesn’t deserve any more or less than any other government/military contractor. Because that’s what he is now (he’s not an Avengers because the Avengers no longer exist), and that’s what he was up until the last scene of Age of Ultron. Most of his existence, he’s been a solider. He’s a military guy. So if he’s not been getting paid, that’s on the military. Tony, at most, would have paid him for two years of his time and work. The rest is all on the military, including Sam’s current finances.

Which means, you want to blame someone for Sam’s finances and his inability to get a loan? Well, there are three reasons. 1. Sam chose to leave the Avengers to become a fugitive with Cap, which means he had no job and no paycheck for two years. That’s the consequences of his actions. 2. the military either stopped paying him at some point, or hasn’t been paying him enough/quick enough in the past six months since the Blip. Military pay for veterans and veterans’ access to benefits is a real problem, but it’s a military problem. And it’s possible that any back-pay or pension that Sam is owed is tied up in red tape, which is probably only exacerbated by his time as a fugitive (which might mean he was made ineligible for any pension). And finally 3. systemic racism. His sister was pretty clear on the fact that “people like us” are the ones who always seems to be denied loans. She was saying that there is money available for loans, but it always go to white folks first. Maybe try listening to the black character explain why they believe they aren’t getting paid. Sam (when not on the run or blipped) was living a pretty cushy life as a supporting avenger for two years. He apparently didn’t have to think about how systemic racism could affect his family because he was temporarily insulated from it. Now that layer of protection is gone because he’s not living in a cushy compound away from the real world (which, for the record, is probably a good thing. I think the Avengers being so isolated from the real world is probably partially what led to the problems in Civil War). So now Sam is going to be confronted with the reality that systemic racism is real and can affect anybody, regardless of your fame or your job. And after the past year of discussions on race, the fandom shouldn’t be surprised by this narrative.

I am so sick of every single MCU project post-Endgame being twisted by antis who just want to use it to hate Tony Stark. I mean, seriously. Give it a rest, people! Try reading the narrative the way it was intended and stop twisting it for your hate-Tony-Stark obsession.

#falcon and the winter solider spoilers #tfatws spoilers #barely but still #tony stark defense squad #antis need to be quiet #fandom discourse is exhausting #yall make it harder for me to care about anything associated with captain america and now that's beginning to include sam wilson #khent rants #marvel critical #kinda #i wanted to like the new shows #but the marvel writers are shit #i did enjoy wandavision #even though it had some problems #and i loved seeing rhodey in tfatws ep #khent's marvel discussions #khent's posts

[pigeonp0st]

Since I loved your one shot about Lena, I'm requesting another one! Reader is a single mom and is afraid to tell Lena about her child cause she thinks Lena isn't going to take it well, but in the end Lena loves her child.

Lena Luthor x Reader #2

Words: 1,590

Warnings: none?

Notes:

Thank you for requesting! If you’d like me to change the name of the kid (or the gender) feel free to say so. Also...sorry if you were expecting more of Lena. I realized at the end that there might not have been enough (Sorry for spelling mistakes too).

———

Miles, your eight year old son, has started to pretend he’s a psychologist. He’ll sit you down, with your head in his small lap (which isn’t very ethical), and ask you about your life problems.

Usually, you’ll make up funny nonsense that he’ll struggle to find the solution to...but today a very real problem has arrived, and you know you shouldn’t be trying to confide in your little boy about this, yet you decide to anyway.

He knows about you and Lena, though Lena doesn’t know about him. He saw her on TV once, was awestruck by her “smartness”, and you let slip that she’s the woman you’ve been dating.

Dating used as a loose term, because you and Lena haven’t actually become anything official. It’s...weird. Made even more so by the fact that she doesn’t know about the most important person in your life.

You tell Miles as much in today’s session. He beams down at you, happy that you’re finally starting to take his sessions seriously, and then taps his finger against his lip, thinking. “You should just tell her,” he finally concludes after a long pause.

You narrow your eyes up at him suspiciously, and wonder if you should just pretend to take his advice and move on. You don’t. “People usually don’t want to get involved with single moms.”

His eyes furrow at that, clearly upset, so you rush on. “If someone doesn’t want to be involved with you, none of me longs to be involved with them,” then, you pause, “I just want to want to be involved with Lena.”

“So this stems from past trauma?” Miles asks, and you gape at him, shocked.

“Where the f—when did you learn any of those words, honey?”

He grins at you again, clearly proud of himself, and then schools his face into an attempt of looking professional. It’s humorous. “Psy- Psych—”

“Psychology.”

“Yes, that. It says that our fears usually come for childhood trauma.”

“I’m not scared,” but even as you say that you know it’s not true. You make a mental note to watch over whatever the hell Miles is listening to, to make sure it’s age appropriate. “Even if I am, it’s definitely not from childhood trauma.”

“From relationship trauma then?”

You let out a shocked laugh, completely stumped. “Baby, your eight. If you keep saying smart things you’re going to start scaring me.”

“Let's talk about your fears,” He suggests. Clearly wanting to move on he gestures for you to sit up. Once you do, he hops up from the couch, grabs his clipboard from the coffee table, and starts scribbling down things you aren’t able to see.

“Okay,” you hesitantly agree. “I’m scared Lena will want nothing to do with me.”

“Why is that something you're scared of?”

You give him a confused look that he pays no attention to. “Obviously I like her...I also fear that you won’t.”

He nods, finally looking up from his clipboard. “And what happens if I hate her, and she hates me, so she leaves and you never speak to her again?”

You choke on absolutely nothing.

“What will you do then?” Miles asks, and you have no response for him. He doesn’t seem to want one. “You’ll deal with it, like you always have. So stop worrying until it comes. If it comes.”

You’re equal parts extremely proud of him, and extremely concerned as you think over what he’s said.

Then, as if he’s tired of being the smartest eight year old alive, he hands you the paper he was working on for half of your ‘session’. The paper is full of sharp lines that get more curvy and tangled the closer they get to what appears to be the middle.

“This,” he says, “is how you’re feeling.”

And you believe him.

———

It takes you a week to build up the courage to tell Lena about Miles. He surprisingly helped you come to the realization that holding off on telling Lena the truth won’t change the outcome.

In fact...it would probably make things more complicated. Even now, she deserved to know sooner than this.

It’s too late, of course. There’s no point in wishing you had done differently.

“Are you okay?” Lena asks through the phone, sounding so beautifully concerned over the fact that you haven’t spoken for awhile. God, you're whipped for this world-saving genius.

“Yeah,” you say, “just...you know how I said I had something to talk to you about?” You don’t wait for her to confirm, because of course she remembers, she’s looked scared because of it all day. “I sort of have to show you...so would you mind coming over?”

Yes, you’re a coward that’s hoping Lena seeing Miles for herself, instead of you telling her about him, will make her more accepting. Miles has a very convincing charm.

“You want me to go to your place?” Lena sputters, clearly shocked.

In an instant you regret the decision you were so sure about before. Maybe Lena isn’t ready. You should tell her before she comes, so she isn’t shocked out of her mind when she sees him.

You should—

“Okay,” Lena says, determined. You hadn’t even responded to her before. “I’ll be there soon.” And then she hangs up the phone before you manage to say anything, leaving you wondering what the fuck you’re doing.

You could call her back.

...you’re not going to. You’re too scared.

——

Miles waits by the door, dressed in his best suit. He knows how anxious you are about this, despite how hard you’ve been trying to hide it since your weird ‘session’, so he says he’s going to try and be the best him he can be.

You tell him that all he needs to be is his normal self and everything will be alright, but he admits to being nervous to meet Lena too, because she’s super smart. (He’s been watching anything he can find of her on the internet)

Thus, the two of you wait together impatiently, trying not to descend into madness.

——

At some point Miles starts making and handing you scribbles of how you feel, and you start making and handing them back.

It’s while you’re handing Miles your next piece that the doorbell rings.

He doesn’t look to be that nervous anymore, just excited, so he follows you on your track to answer the door, and with each step you contemplate your entire existence beyond Miles.

Then…Then you open the door.

Miles is hiding behind your leg, looking up at Lena with hesitant hopefulness and uncertainty, it’s the exact match of the way you’re looking at her, and Lena is looking at him with wide eyes.

Because you’re sure you’re about to die from the silence, you croak out a wobbly and quiet; “hi,” at the same time Mile’s sticks out his hands and says his own charming greeting.

“Hello, doctor Y/L/N here. Nice to meet you.”

“Lena Luthor.” As if on autopilot Lena shakes his hand. “You’re a doctor?” She asks, smiling the smallest of smiles at him.

He nods his head eagerly, glad she’s smiling. “Yeah! Of—of psy- psych...”

“Psychology,” You finish. Lena’s gaze switches to you. It’s the moment you think you’re gonna die, but her gaze is concerned instead of disappointed.

“He’s older than the photo on your wallpaper suggested,” Lena says.

Oh.

Oh…

You’re an idiot.

Then, Lena smiles—wider this time because of your dumbstruck expression—and looks at Miles. “To be a doctor you have to be pretty smart.”

He nods, his eyes practically full of stars.

“That’s how I know you and I are going to get along great.”

Miles grins madly, pushes you a bit to the side so Lena can come in, and says, eager, “can I show you my work, please?”

And Lena looks from you, to him, laughs a laugh full of amusement and endearment, and agrees gracefully. “I’d love it if you would.”

———

Lena adores Miles.

Around him she almost seems, impossibly, like a child herself. She so obviously and beautifully wants him to like her, and all the while Miles is almost exactly the same around her.

They’re both complete dorks trying to subtly get each other's attention and all you want to do is watch the two of them interact for ages.

They both were two separate parts of your life, and now they’re merged better than you ever expected them to.

It’s great. Absolutely great. But whenever they turn their twin gazes on you you’re sure you’re going to melt into a puddle of adoration.

Wow.

“What is it?” You ask them, after they’ve both looked at you for too long without saying anything.

Lena tilts her head, her smile concerned again, “you look like you’re about to cry.”

Miles nods his agreement. “What’s wrong mom? Does whatever bothering you stem from childhood trauma?” He asks, and at Lena’s ‘the fuck’ face you burst out into a fit of laughter, that quickly turns into tears of absolute love.

Both Miles and Lena looked at you with alarm because they don’t realize this is the happiest you’ve been in a while. It is though. It is.

“Not childhood trauma,” you assure them both, and before Miles can suggest it you add; “not past relationship trauma either, it’s happy tears.”

“Oh,” Lena stutters, “good.”

“Oh,” Miles repeats, sounding relieved and a tad bit disappointed. “I haven’t learned how to deal with those tears yet.”

#lena luthor x reader #lena luthor imagine #lena x reader #lena luthor #supergirl imagine #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc x reader #female reader #supergirl x reader #x fem!reader #fem reader #dc imagine #dc fic #supergirl fic #lena luthor fanfiction

[cassandraclare]

I'm sorry to hear that your hard work was leaked but I was curious about what happened. I hope the person faced consequences because that was a very selfish thing to do leaking your work like that :(

I haven’t taken action against the person who leaked the book. I know who they are, since they uploaded the page I signed for them, and I was able to match that against my records. 

I haven’t refrained from taking action because I feel sympathy for them. I don’t. It’s beyond shitty behavior to receive an early, signed book as a gift, and to then leak the entire book online. It’s a shit thing to do to the authors and an equally shit thing to do to other fans. However, I don’t want to put myself (and Wes) through the exhausting, grim and expensive process of legal repercussions. It doesn’t mean what this person did isn’t horrible, and it doesn’t mean they haven’t cost the entire fandom any chance of there ever being an early contest giveaway like that again. They did. There never will be. There will be no ARCs of Chain of Iron, either, and you can thank them for that, too. 

Part of what makes piracy such an issue for authors goes far beyond the individual assholes who upload and distribute and translate stolen books. It’s that the whole system is set up to make it incredibly difficult for us to do anything about it. Publishers do little to nothing to prevent piracy, and authors shoulder the entire burden of searching out and reporting illegal copies of their books. And even then, we’re dependent on whether or not the reported website feels like complying with copyright laws or not. Twitter is incredibly slow to respond, Tumblr is about fifty-fifty on bothering at all. They’re legally required to take action, but they also know that the effort of doing something about it if they do not falls on exhausted, overburdened artists who often can’t afford to follow up with a lawyer’s letter.

And like, I get being broke and wanting to read books; there were a lot of books I had to pass up reading when I was broke (I will be forever grateful to the library system of New York and Brooklyn, which is how I read books at all from about 2001-2004.) I was broke enough that I slept on a bare mattress because I couldn’t afford sheets, but I’m pretty sure if I broke into Bed, Bath and Beyond and stole a bunch of fitted percale bedding I wouldn’t have encountered much sympathy if I got caught. 

I talked about this on Twitter before, and I’ll say it again here though I know it will make very little difference: pirating books doesn’t just hurt the author of those books. It hurts everyone at the publishing company, where the margin of profit is razor-thin (and yes, publishers should do more to protect themselves against piracy; I agree there); it hurts bookstores, especially indie bookstores (I remember doing an event at a store that told me, sadly, that they were likely going to have to close because people “came into the store, looked at the books, took notes, then went home and pirated them.”) It hurts libraries, who rely on circulation for funding, and the shutting down of libraries hurts people who actually can’t afford books.

Now, I know is no way to talk people out of piracy; the internet has normalized it, and besides, people will generally do the cheaper, easier thing — you can’t talk people into not doing something they want to do by telling them it’s wrong, in my experience. They’ll find ways to justify it, whether it be that they can’t afford the book or it isn’t yet available in their language or that they find the author “problematic” and this is the way they’ve chosen to punish them. 

The reason I put “problematic” in quotes is because yes, of course you can read and enjoy work that has problematic elements. Pretty much everything has some element that’s going to be found problematic by someone — which is exactly why deciding that it’s morally excusable to steal from people you think are creating flawed work is more than problematic. Holding creators accountable for their work means critiquing that work, not stealing it.

I listen to a lot of political podcasts, and some of them review work by extreme right-wing politicians etc. who have written books that the podcasters find morally despicable but wish to, or need to, review and discuss. Since they don’t wish to give money to the authors, they buy second-hand copies or take the book out of the library. They certainly don’t steal, translate and distribute copies of the books because they genuinely do not like them and do not want more people reading them. That’s what it looks like when you have an actual moral problem with a book or author. 

However, running multiple fan accounts for a book series, naming your internet identity after characters from that book series, and talking endlessly about “your favorite parts” and how this is “your favorite book” entirely invalidates any argument that you’re doing this because you think the books are bad, evil, etc. If you claim a book is actively homophobic or racist but are so desperate to read it that you’ll steal it, so excited about it that you’ll share that stolen copy, so obsessed that you’ll illegally translate a whole book and provide that stolen translation to as many people as possible, and so dedicated to the fandom that you’ll name yourself after the characters in the books and write poetry about them, I have to tell you: the last thing that looks like is that you actually find the books problematic, regardless of what you say to the contrary. It looks like you like them but don’t want to pay for them, because in fact, that’s the case. (Either that or it looks like you’re really into racist, homophobic books, and making sure as many people read them as possible, which is your problem.)

One of the issues I have with piracy is that it teaches you to hate creators. You have to hate them, because you’re doing a fucking awful thing to them and you have to justify it. This results in lying about creators — about their process, their translations, their research — as if somehow, even if they were bad researchers, that would justify widespread theft. (It doesn’t.) Those who steal books wind up in a headspace where they are obsessed with the content of the books, and entirely unwilling to accept the reality that those books were created by a real person that they’re really harming. It encourages the mentality that I didn’t create Jem or Magnus or Will or Cordelia: they came from some kind of sparkly outerspace planet and I was just lucky enough to get to write down their adventures. It invalidates the hard work creators put into what they create, and in fact, erases their very existence. The internet attitude toward creators is already incredibly toxic (especially if they’re women, LGBT+ and/or BIPOC) and the feeling of entitlement to free content, and vicious hatred toward those who aren’t providing it (even though a lot of creators, me included, provide a great deal of free content) contributes to that. Genuinely, if you’re stealing someone’s work, the least you could do is not also be an asshole about them. (Or pretend you’re Robin Hood. He stole from the rich who had taken property and goods from the poor, and returned that stolen wealth. He didn’t steal from artists and independent bookstores and use that stealing to benefit himself and his friends. The idea is actually kind of funny.) 

 I understand there is a pressure to be up to date on the books that are being released so as to participate in fandom, and I do get that. Unfortunately, piracy has real consequences that stretch beyond just hurting me and Wes. Because LGBT+ books are pirated at such an incredible rate, and we’ve definitely seen that with TEC, I am left wondering if there will ever be an actual Spanish translation of TEC, or whether the publisher will decide not to bother because it’s already been so thoroughly pirated in Spanish. I have to wonder if there will even be a third book of TEC at all, or whether publishers will feel it isn’t worth doing. And I have to wonder why the people who create this situation so often have usernames that include Jem or Magnus or Alec or Cordelia or Julian or Tessa. What an incredible misunderstanding of those characters, to imagine a world in which Will Herondale or Magnus Bane or James Carstairs would approve of stealing books and harming writers. And why name yourself after a character who absolutely couldn’t stand you? I don’t know. I don’t get it, any more than I get hating someone who provided you with something you claim is your favorite book. 

That was a much longer answer than you were probably expecting or hoping for, and I know I’ll get yelled at quite thoroughly for writing it. Writers always do, when we engage with the issue of piracy. I know most of you reading this acquire your books honestly; most of you are not like this at all. But like most things on the internet, a small amount of people really do have the power to make things pretty rotten for everyone else.

#brother-sixpackariah-carstairs #piracy #tda #tlh #tec

[linkspooky]

White Wolf, Black Wolf:  Yuji and Geto

Dualism, is a common theme in Jujutsu Kaisen. There’s a difference between binary opposites and a completementary pair. Binary opposites supposes that two ideas are complete opposites of eachother, they are enemies and therefore cannot coexist. Death is the opposite of life. However, ideas like the concept of yin and yang suggest that these pairs are not opposites, or even enemies, they just exist alongside one another. The feminine yin contains a single dot of the masculine yang energy inside of it and vice versa. 

This pattern repeats itself with both Geto and Yuji. Two characters who seem like they are complete opposites, enemies, hero and villain and yet have far more in common with one another than one might thing. Each of them represented by a wolf, Yuji the white wolf, and Geto the black. 

Dualism - describing how seemingly opposite or contrary forces may actually be complementary, interconnected, and interdependent in the natural world, and how they may give rise to each other as they interrelate to one another.

1. You and the Worst Person You Know Have More in Common than You Thought

Both Yuji and Geto are sharing their body with another existence. Not only that but a sorcerer from the previous era. Sukuna started out as a sorcerer, and one from the golden age of sorcerers. We don’t know who is in Geto yet, but they’ve made it clear several times that they’re not a sorcerer from this era, mockingly referring to the sorcerers of this era as beneath them. The difference is, Yuji is the dominant personality and Geto is the subordinate one. They even fight for control of their body in the same way, by grabbing their neck. 

Both Yuji and Geto have died, and then been improbably brought back to life one time already and had their body healed by the same person who seeks to steal their body. They also both died in front of their other half, their friend, Yuji dies heroically in front of Megumi sacrificing himself so Megumi doesn’t have to call Mahoraga, and Geto dies as a villain after his plan has failed executed by Gojo. Even the days they die are opposites, Geto dies in a clear sky and Yuji dies in the rain. 

They both eat curses. Geto eats them physically in order to store them and use them later. Yuji consumes Sukuna’s fingers in order to grow stronger. Geto’s Jujutsu is themed around his stomach, Sukuna’s is cooking themed. 

Yuji and Geto are both have savior / martyr imagery attached to them. They’re both people who have died, and come back from the dead at least once, and the jesus imagery with Geto is clear and explicitly referenced in hidden inventory. 

Yuji wants to be strong like Gojo, but it’s clear he follows Geto’s philosophy of wanting to save as many people as possible. What motivates him isn’t a clear and strong sense of individualism, but rather the idea that the strong are duty bound to help the weak. Even when Geto’s completely out of his mind he’s still guided by that principle, if he has the strength to do it, then he’s duty bound to try to change the world in the way he sees fit. The thing with Geto is his ideals are warped, but they’re still ideals, he has principles guiding him. These ideals also shockingly sound similiar to what Yuji says, and the burdens he wants to carry. 

It’s something that doesn’t change about Geto from the start to the end of Hidden Invenotry, the strong are obligated to help the weak, it’s just Geto flipped. he sees the sorcerers as the weak and oppressed people, and the masses as the strong ones. 

Geto and Yuji are both people heavily preoccupied with doing the right thing, whereas Gojo and Megumi kind of don’t care (Gojo) / have already accepted the fact (Megumi) that they’re not really saving people with their actions. Geto and Yuji are reckless saviors, they kind of just want to save everybody they see suffering in front of them immediately without thinking through the consequences of their actions. It’s never been seriously analyzed why Yuji feels so deadset on saving others, but from early on he seems to like the idea that it’s a burden that only he can take on himself. It’s something he must duty. The same way that Geto binds himself by the idea of duty. 

Geto and Yuji are just people who will take the whole world on their shoulders, and this isn’t just a parallel I’m making it’s one directly made by the narrative. When worrying about Yuji’s future, Yaga thinks directly of Geto someone who became overwhelmed by everything on is shoulders.

Geto wasn’t able to carry on as he once did, because he couldn’t carry the regret with him. That’s the parallel that the story is making with Yuji, that’s the danger Yuji is in. 

2. Worst Person You Know Makes a Good Point

Chapter 132 there’s a definite change in Yuji’s demeanor. While we haven’t seen the full results of his change yet, not only has he been phsically scarred on his face, but it’s clear the deaths of Nanami, the people killed by Sukuna, all have served to harden him. Nanami wanted Yuji to remain a child a little bit longer, but Yuji has now become a jujutsu sorcerer. However, the words he declares to Mahito have two clear connections to Geto. One, it’s what Geto said to Gojo to stop him from slaughtering the star plasma vessel cult in the moment. 

Gojo has feelings of course, but he’s not moved by them the same way that Geto and Yuji are. Gojo was in need of a tether in that moment and Geto’s words became his tether. Remember Gojo became so powerful as the strongest one he felt like he was capable of anything without feeling it, even slaughtering people on mass, but in that moment Geto became the link that held him back and reminded him he was human. 

What’s ironic is that Gojo was moved by Geto’s words and held himself back, whereas Geto wasn’t. It was Gojo who stuck to those words a year after the fact. He was the strongest, but he doesn’t ever act unless he carefully considers it. He doesn’t just throw power around or slaughter people the way that Geto does. 

What Yuji is vowing to do right now, following his duty as a jujutsu sorcerer without even thinking about it, is exactly what drove Geto apeshit bananas (you see because he loves monkeys so much. It’s a, ‘yknow, it’s one of them jokes). 

Yuji thinks he can just keep going on without thinking and being nothing more than a cog, but it’s exactly that kind of mechanical subservience that completely wore out Geto. Simply going through the motions without questioning it is given to us as the exact reason for Geto’s downfall, it’s one of the most chilling sequences in the manga. 

People aren’t machines, and they aren’t gears, they break down when they try to conform that way. So while it’s understandable Yuji would want to push away all his thoughts in the moment, it’s also not healthy.

The reason Geto became the way he is, is because he realized the laws he was obeying weren’t as fair as he thought they were. He thought it was his duty, and obligation to help the masses, until he looked at his actions with closer scrutiny and realized that wasn’t really what motivated him. Geto thought what he was doing was good, that he would save people, but then Riko’s death was a reality check to him that no one was getting saved by the current system. Yuji seems to have done the opposite of Geto so far. Perhaps I won’t save people. Perhaps I’m just a cog in the machine and my actions truly don’t matter as long as I can keep fighting with my comrades as a jujutsu sorcerer. However, that’s probably not going to work for him.

Yuji’s current comfort in his moment of crisis is that he’s fighting together with all of his comrades, that he carries the wishes of people like Nanami and that’s why he has to keep going, but Yuji also might not have comrades in the jujutsu world after this. We already see people like Kusakabe beginning to turn against him because of Sukuna’s rampage in Shibuya. 

So my intention in all of this is to say it’s not black and white. (Because, get it?? black wolf, white wolf??? Okay, I’m sorry I’ll shut up). Geto wasn’t an entirely bad person, there was good in him too. There was still good in him. This is what Getwo says when he’s beating on Yuji, that if Geto had used his forces more like disposable pawns instead of family telling them to fall back and making sure they all lived he would have won. 

The worst person you know, was still a human being who loved his family with all of is heart. Ideas like this challenge Yuji’s simplified reasons for fighting, and his naive view of the world. 

At the end of the day Yuji and Geto have lots of similarities. They’re opposite colors, Geto black, Yuji white, but they are both still wolves. They’re both moved by deep emotions they feel at the pit of their stomachs. They’re both people who sympathize with others and want to save them, and at the same time get angry and want to kill their enemies. None of this is bad about Yuji in fact it’s what makes him unique among shonen protagonist, he’s not a wholly good person, but just as flawed as anyone else in the story. Nobara’s crazy, Megumi’s crazy, Gojo’s crazy, and then there’s Yuji who should have been the normal one who grew up with a normal life and who is just as crazy as all the rest. 

If anything the parallels between Yuji and Geto show that Yuji is someone who has the chance to grow stronger than Geto by learning from Geto’s fault. Geto tried to carry too much, until the burden of saving the world broke him and he decided he could only save a few people the rest were just monkeys. It’s up to Yuji now to figure out what saving people means, and how he can help others without getting destroyed by the sense of responsibility or just killing himself and dying before he’s helped a single person. However, for Yuji to learn to be better he actually has to think about these things.

That’s also the second parallel to the “I don’t need to think about it’ Scene. (Besides, Sukuna who also declares that he’ll kill for no reason.) In the original Geto fight in the prequel manga Yuta declares this. He doesn’t know whether Geto is right or not, he doesn’t know anything about the world of Jujutsu he just wants to protect his friends. 

Geto calls him egotistical. In the sense that just like a child, he’s only really thinking about himself and his own emotions. Of course Yuta thinks that way because he is a child, a traumatized teenager at that. However, one important detail about this fight is defeating Geto did not cause him to go away. Killing him didn’t actually fix the problem. Geto just came back a year later with somebody else in his body. 

I think this is all leading up to a point for Yuji where he gives some serious self examination as a protagonist. It’s not enough for Yuji to just defeat his enemies. We even see that when after is triumphant moment with Mahito, Geto just wipes the floor with him.

Jujutsu Kaisen presents a very complex world, that’s not  just black and white, not just winning and losing. The next big step in Yuji’s character development is probably going to be realizing this. That he needs to seriously think about his reason. That he needs to think about what he wants to do in the future. It’s not enough for him to sacrifice his life to save someone else, he’s not a hero, or some martryr to a cause. I think the most important thing Yuji has to learn at the end of all of this is to actually live, and find out why he’s alive instead of resigning himself to the fact that he’ll get executed one day. It’s only then Yuji will be able to reach his full potential as both a jujutsu sorcerer and a person. 

He’s just a kid you know? The theme of the manga is kids should get to be kids. Yuji should get to grow up just like everybody else, instead of dying before he’s even old because he ate Sukuna’s finger to help someone else. 

#itadori yuji #yuji itadori #geto suguru #suguru geto #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen theory #jujutsu kaisen analysis #jujutsu kaisen

[kcatta-wodahs]

Making Lore Out of the Angel Event

Im the definition of 'its not that deep but I'm going to dig a hole to make it that deep'

In this case its me making it that deep because otherwise this event is upsetting so I'm making some dark lore theories to make it make sense to me.

I'll have a lot of spoilers below. For the event and everything I know, which is up to like lesson 32 I think.

Basically, TLDR; this was an attack by Michael/their Father on Devildom. Simeon and Diavolo have successfully negated the threat by turning it into a game.

TLDR Thesis; The Celestial Realm is governed through careful mind control. The Demon Bros are not "avatars" because of being demons- they have been cursed by their Father to suffer as no other demon nor angel has to.

First we hear direct from Michael, and he's giving these bangles that appear to brainwash the main cast.

This was an attempt by their Father to bring them back under his control. By control, I mean this literally.

I've felt for a long time that the way the Celestial Realm seems to be run is... shady. It's a utopia to outside appearances only, and those who have been most deeply embroiled in the Great Celestial War know this.

The Great Celestial War was over free will, rather than the specifics of Lilith's situation. She was the catalyst for a long-time-coming revolt against the rulers of the Celestial Realm.

My logic for this:

The reason for Lilith's expulsion goes against the current action plan of the Celestial Realm. Peace between the realms? Sure, but their Father is bound to realize that you put angels, humans, and demons together you're going to end up with more angels like Lilith, who fall for other races. Why would he accept this truce if he lost his favored children over an issue that is very similar? Did he have a change of heart? Heavens no.

Luke's behaviour towards the demon's seems case-and-point. Luke is not the strange one out of the angelic transfer students- Simeon is. Not only that, Simeon is chosen not in an attempt to promote peace, but to protect Luke from being influenced. (Which is, again, the whole point\of the exchange program.)

That time we went to the Celestial Realm for real - Lucifer was worried. Scared, even. This can be explained by, you know, the War and Lilith.. but I wonder if it may be more sinister. Like perhaps being brainwashed.

Diavolo and Barbatos weren’t required to wear bangles to become less “demon-like” for the “party”. This is because the bangles were a ploy to get the brothers back.

My theory is that when an angel begins to show signs of rebellion or questioning the divine order, they are forcibly stopped. Michael is that enforcer, and these 'gifts' are a method of stopping them.

The bangles cause a person to act *perfectly angelic* against their free will. The people affected become all smiles and sunshine, so clearly nothing could be wrong with it, right? They’re happy, right?

No. Very not right, and we can see that through Satan.

Poor Satan is always the exception to the rule of the Brothers, as his circumstances are different from everyone else's.

In this case though, he's the one who provides insight on this mind control. 

Let me remind you of the quotes Satan gives us during this time:

“I feel worked up.” “I don’t feel like myself at all.”

“It feels like something foreign is forcing my heart to be calm.” “Like my heart... becoming tranquil.”

Satan has never been an angel. He has never experienced this before. He has something the other brothers don’t: self-reflection. Satan can tell the difference between his feelings and feelings that are being imposed upon him. He tells you what he feels - “worked up” and “not like himself” and he is not smiling during this. He’s clearly unhappy, even though an angel might say he should feel unburdened by losing his anger.

He even mentions this.

“Normally, that wouldn’t seem like something bad, right?” “Something isn’t right.” “Maybe you shouldn’t come near me when I’m in this state.”

Satan is under the effects of the bangle, being forced to act angelic, but he can tell something “isn’t right.” He clearly shows that he thinks this is a “bad” thing, not because being calm is bad, but because it’s not “normal”. And can I remind you that he’s the Avatar of Wrath? The Sin that is most likely to be dangerous to be around - and yet it’s only when his anger is forcibly quelled that he thinks you should stay away from him. He knows that this is not something to desire. He knows that it is not happiness.

“I can’t concentrate on reading today.”

I mean, he’s obviously going through a lot, so that’s fair. But I have the theory that if he were to try and research this condition he wouldn’t be able to either. I have a theory about the Garden of Eden. My theory is about Paradise.

Remember when Eve ate the fruit? Do you know what that fruit was? Sin?

No. That fruit was knowledge.

Specifically, knowledge of good and evil. Now, why would this knowledge be something to keep from those under the control of the Celestial Realm? It sounds rather like they might be able to then make their own decisions of what is right and wrong.

Satan has known this from the beginning. Knowledge is power. The Ruler of the Celestial Realm, the other demons’ Father, knows this, too.

Why are there no other Avatars?

Sin was not something inherent to Devildom. Sin is a judgement sent from the Celestial Realm. There are no other Avatars because they are a wholly angelic creation. There are other posts that have examined the Sins as outlets, and how each of the brothers are attempting to find ways to allow themselves to express their sin so it does not overtake them.

From the get-go, we are shown that these Sins are a defining point for the brothers, but we’re also shown that they cause more trouble than anything else. Again, part-and-parcel of being a demon, right?

So why aren’t other demons like this?

Look at Diavolo and Barbatos, or even just the background demons who work across Devildom. Look at No. 2. They are all far more complex, and could even be considered normal. No. 2 is specifically meant to be based off of Mammon and his greed, but is much more rounded when we interact with it.

If Diavolo is meant to be the ruler of demonkind -- the paragon of what a demon should be -- then why would he not be the epitome of all of these Sins in one? What is Diavolo, instead?

Diavolo is accepting.

Hold up a moment here. What? Sorry y’all but it sounds to me like Mr. Demon Daddy King trusts his son enough to pass the kingdom on to him... so that must mean that Diavolo is behaving as a demon should.

Barbatos doesn’t question Diavolo’s choices. Nobody does. He’s an all around popular ruler. Devildom seems to be quite.. the opposite of what we’ve been trained to expect, huh? Trained by who exactly?

What are the Demon Brothers?

Cursed. They don’t act like other demons because they’re not like other demons. When they rebelled against their Father, they were punished for this act, but I posit that the punishment and the exile were two different acts. Their Father knew that leaving the Celestial Realm was not punishment to those who desired free will. So instead, he gave them Sin. Something that Demons are not normally bound to.

But how would the brothers know this? They only know what they’ve been taught by angels about demons. Surely these new, pressing desires come from turning into demons..? 

So, why was this not taken seriously?

Short answer: it was. But in the way that aligns with Diavolo’s ultimate goals.

Diavolo wants peace. 

Let’s Talk About Simeon

Simeon is an enigma and a half isn’t he?

Simeon is close with Michael, closer than Luke in any case. Now, I’ll be honest, I can’t remember if it was a fanfiction I read that said this or if it was canon so uh - forgive me. But Simeon was chosen to accompany Luke as an exchange student so that Luke would get some education. Simeon says this is to help relations, as Diavolo wants, but of course that’s what you would say as a sleeper agent?

Now, don’t get sad. Because we love Simeon here and we support him.

Simeon is wise and neutral. He seems to support the brothers, and even still wishes to foster a relationship with them. This could be seen as an attempt to bring them back, or some such, but I like to think that Simeon knows what’s wrong with the Celestial Realm.

Simeon, however, doesn’t think that a revolt can solve it. Simeon is working with Diavolo to create a form of peace - and has been transparent about the fact that Michael chose him to prevent Luke from being corrupted. I like to think he’s also been transparent with Diavolo about Michael’s actual goal. 

Simeon believes that the races should co-exist and love freely. How could love be evil, after all? Whether or not this is a new concept to him (because of his falling for you) or if this is just who he is, I’ll leave up to you and your preferences, but since he is now no longer undateable, it is established that he does not believe love between angels and humans to be bad - as his Father did with Lilith.

What happened, then?

My theory is that Simeon told Diavolo that Michael had given him a task - to give these bangles to the brothers to remind them of the joy they were missing by disobeying the Divine Order. Either that, or to brainwash them into coming back home. 

Simeon’s position would be revealed to Michael if he didn’t give the brothers the bangles, but he does not want to instigate another war either. So he told Diavolo Michael’s plan. 

Diavolo wants peace, and he knows that with time, the brothers can overcome this mind control as they had in the past - especially with his help. 

So thus comes the “party”. 

An excuse to make the bangles seem like a “harmless” gift, that had only gone wrong because of strange magical interference, when really they had done exactly what they were supposed to.

And a wonderful way to maintain peace while leaving the Celestial Realm to stew in their own pots. 

Simeon gets to maintain his facade for everyone - and put on a show for Michael as being loyal. He also gets to show Luke that perhaps being wholly angelic isn’t the way for some people, letting him learn a little more about peaceful coexistence. Nothing happens to ruin Diavolo’s grand plan for peace, and he gets to learn more about the curse that is set upon his friends - One that he hopes to be able to break someday, so they can live their lives unfettered by their Father.

#okay this has gone on long enough #i have other ideas about satan in this whole situation but this is my canon now okay #the celestial realm is shady af #Our group of friends are the ones trying to rebel against it #but also are the victims of what happens if you do #man i wish that they would go into deep lore and plot like this in the game #but its an otome so i can't really expect that #anyway this is how im going to treat the whole thing #obey me lore #lore #bast babbles #obey me event #angel event #obey me angel event #obey me #obey me shall we date #obswd #headcanons

[retrievablememories]

matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

--

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app. 

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :) 

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos 

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

--

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take. 

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” 

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...” 

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human. 

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards. 

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

--

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

--

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

--

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway. 

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust. 

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button. 

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

#ten scenarios #ten imagines #ten smut #ten fic #wayv imagines #wayv smut #wayv fic #wayv scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct fic #ambw scenarios #kpop ambw #ambw fic #ambw imagines #ambw smut #nct ambw #nct fluff #wayv fluff #nct angst #wayv angst #ambw fluff #ambw angst #ambw

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (v)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of poor parenting and damaged familial relationships

series masterpost: here

a/n: and just like that we're halfway through!!! it's crazy to think about it. however, lots happens in this chapter so buckle up peeps

Soon Magdalene’s feelings are going to get the better of her.

She knows she’s heading down a dangerous path but she can’t help it. Ryan is like a drug she can’t get enough of even though she knows it will hurt her in the long run. Living with him has opened her up to the laid back, intelligent, incredibly funny man he is and Magdalene doesn’t know how she’s ever going to function in her own space ever again. They complement each other like two peas in a pod, and everyone else is starting to catch on to the shift in their relationship.

“When are you going to fess up to Ryan about your feelings?” Bette asks as the two of them sit on the lawn across from the university library. It’s mid October, but the weather is still warm enough that Magdalene eats her lunch outside. Her best friend decided to join her today, no doubt knowing that she’s feeling a little lonely. The Avalanche are in the middle of their season opening road trip and have been gone for nearly five days. Ryan’s condo feels empty without him in it, and Magdalene misses him an unfathomable amount.

“Never, if I can help it,” she replies casually, taking a bite of the turkey wrap that Bette brought her from Barn Owl.

The blonde scoffs. “Fuck off. You have to. What are you going to do when he gets back from Florida and you tackle him as soon as he steps through the door.”

“Caligula will get there first,” Magdalene shrugs. “Those two are thick as thieves.”

Truthfully, Magdalene wasn’t sure what she was going to do. This is the longest they’ve been separated since she moved in and it’s proving to be a harder adjustment than she thought. Magdalene feels a little silly missing him so much – she went nearly twenty-six years without knowing Ryan but now he’s imprinted on her soul for the rest of eternity. Living without him seems impossible.

Bette drops the conversation then, almost as if she knows Magdalene is in her own world thinking about what to do. She mentions the upcoming home opener and her plans to attend with a couple of the other wives and girlfriends. “We’re going out beforehand and you should join us! I really think you’d like most of them.”

The bell in the clock tower rings, signalling the start of another hour, and Magdalene promises she’ll consider the offer as they pack up the picnic and say goodbye. It’s a short walk back to the building she works in, seeing as they were only across the street, but it takes a while for the elevator to come around. Magdalene could have taken the stairs down to the basement but they scare her a lot more than she’d like to admit. Hopefully June won’t mind her being a few minutes late.

Her boss doesn’t look too pleased when Magdalene strolls through the door almost seven minutes later then she should have, but as soon as she tosses the cookie Bette brought her in June’s direction all is forgiven. They work in near silence all afternoon, background noise provided by the small stereo in the corner and their respective grunts of frustration when an image doesn’t digitize properly. The university has finally decided to undertake the massive project of making all their school records available to the public online, and Magdalene and June are in charge of getting all the files ready before sending them to IT for installation into the website. It’s a huge task and is going to take them the better part of a month and a half to finish. Magdalene spends the rest of her work day finishing up a box of graduation records from the 1870s and leaves smelling of very old paper.

On the drive home she considers the invitation Bette extended to her. Magdalene knows she’ll be attending the game, having promised Ryan before he left that she’d be there, but she doesn’t know how to feel about going out for dinner and drink beforehand – especially with people so involved with the team. She isn’t like them, in nearly every sense of the phrase, and doesn’t want people to get the wrong idea. It wouldn’t be fair to Ryan for people to assume they’re together in case he ever does want to bring someone around, but Magdalene can’t help thinking that the speculation wouldn’t hurt. Perhaps it would be the clue that shows him how she feels.

The invite stays in the back of her brain while she heats up leftovers and eats quickly, knowing that Ryan will call soon. He’s like clockwork with his precise game day routine, and he always calls shortly after four o’clock when out east. Magdalene’s phone buzzes from the spot beside her on the couch and she quickly scoops it up and accepts the call.

“Hey,” she says, a little breathless because she’s so excited to talk to him.

“Hey yourself. How was work?” Magdalene can tell Ryan’s got a smile on his face even though she can’t see him. She indulges the question, telling him all about the stuff she digitized and what’s next. Though she always tries to get out of talking about work, fearing it will bore the daylights out of him, Ryan insists on hearing every detail Magdalene wants to share. He finds it all fascinating and tells her so every chance he gets. During her monologue Caligula wanders over and becomes extremely invested after he hears Ryan laugh at something Magdalene said. The small white cat jumps onto Magdalene’s lap and tries to paw the phone away from her ear.

“Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker. Little boots would like to talk.”

At the sound of Ryan’s greeting, Caligula starts meowing up a storm. It’s as though he’s actually holding a conversation with the man, waiting for Ryan to say something before he continues to make noise. Magdalene laughs through what could barely classify as a conversation until the cat gives her space to talk again.

“So,” she says, drawing out the word in an attempt to make Ryan laugh. “Bette asked me to join her and some of the other girls for drinks before Friday’s game.”

Ryan’s responding before Magdalene has finished uttering the last words. “That’s great! I think you should go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly, “It would be nice for you to know someone other than Bette.”

Magdalene is surprised at the response, but tries her hardest to keep her tone light and teasing. “Why, you plan on keeping me around Mr. Graves?” She can tell Ryan is struggling to come up with an answer because there’s a fair amount of sputtering on the other end of the line.

“I’d be stupid to let you go.”

All the breath in Magdalene’s lungs escapes her. She didn’t expect him to say something like that, and it sends her mind reeling. What does he mean? Unable to process the comment, Magdalene makes up an excuse and hangs up as quickly as possible. She spends the rest of the night wondering if Ryan was trying to make a move and deciding how she should handle his homecoming in a few days.

☼☼☼☼

When Ryan gets home Thursday morning Magdalene is at work. Caligula is happy to see him, practically pouncing on him and purring so loud Ryan’s sure the neighbours heard the cat. For an animal so small, Caligula can make a lot of noise if he wants.

“Hi boy,” Ryan coos, adjusting his grip on the cat so he doesn’t get dropped while the two of them move around the house. “Did your mom talk about me while I was gone? Been thinking about her a lot lately.”

The cat doesn’t respond, of course, but Ryan finds comfort in vocalizing his emotions. Multiple times on the road trip Tyson made fun of him for the silent pining he’s found himself participating in since Magdalene moved in, and hinted that she might have said something to Bette. Neither of them are great at keeping secrets, but Ryan also knows they want him and Magdalene to get together and aren’t above manipulation to achieve their goals. He doesn’t know how Magdalene actually feels, but Ryan isn’t willing to risk losing their friendship. Just a couple of months ago she sat on the deck of the lake house and told him she wasn’t looking for a relationship – he has to assume that’s still her position because if he doesn’t Ryan isn’t quite sure what he’ll unleash. Though the two of them are close, closer than most friends, Magdalene stills keeps a lot of things to herself and Ryan doesn’t want to pry. When, and if, she’s ready he knows she’ll come to him.

Exhausted from the countless hours of travel he’s endured over the past few days and the pains that come along with being a professional athlete, Ryan falls back onto the couch cushions. He hurts in places he didn’t know existed and wants to do nothing but sleep. Caligula settles into his stomach, purring contently, and though he knows he should unpack his gear, Ryan can’t find the energy to move himself or the cat. Everything will still be there when he wakes up, and hopefully Magdalene will be on her way home. She texted Ryan earlier in the morning, no doubt just before she headed out the door, to say that she was taking some holidays to have a long weekend and would be home around noon. Sleep comes easy with Caligula nestled against his body, and Ryan dreams of Magdalene as he frequently does.

☼☼☼☼

Despite Bette telling her countless times she shouldn’t be, Magdalene is nervous. The significant others of the Colorado Avalanche are a tight knit group and are very particular with who they let in. Magdalene is a nothing, has no true connections to the team besides being Tyson’s girlfriend’s best friend, and she’s worried she won’t make the cut. If it wasn’t for Bette picking her up in the morning Magdalene would have found a way to get out of drinks, but the blonde made sure she couldn’t make a run for it.

Sitting in the elevated booth, she not-so-casually sips her glass of wine while Bette tries to calm her down. “They’re going to hate me,” she groans, lowering her head to rest it on the table.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bette counters. “You literally know most of them, and Livy will be here if you get too uncomfortable, but most of them were at EJ’s back in May.”

Magdalene can’t argue with the truth, so she rolls her eyes and finishes her drink. By the time she flags down the waiter for a refill the other girls have arrived. They take turns hugging Bette and shuffling into their seats. Magdalene feels awkward with no one acknowledging her, but she does her best to buck up and deal with it. It means a lot to Bette, and Ryan, that she’s here trying to make friends so she’ll at least make an effort.

A blonde who looks a little older than the rest addresses her first. “I’m not sure if you remember me, but I’m Mel. I think we met last season at a game.”

It takes Magdalene a second to recall the face, but then she recognizes Mel as the person who alerted her to the fight Ryan got into to defend Tyson. “Oh yeah,” she chuckles, though it’s still got a nervous quality, “You’re the one who was yelling about Ryan’s fight.”

Everyone looks at her like Magdalene had confessed to seeing a ghost. “What’s the matter?”

“No one ever calls him that,” a petite girl with tight curls explains. “We all just call him Gravy.”

“Oh.”

Magdalene isn’t sure what the comment is supposed to mean, or if it even meant anything at all, but she does her best to push it aside because Livy is trying to catch up with her. The rest of the outing goes well – Magdalene keeps quiet until someone gives an inaccurate analogy about Rome and she has to correct them. It may make her seem stuck up, but she really hates when people spread misinformation. Everyone laughs, and after that it’s hard for Magdalene to stay silent. She talks about work and college, but when someone asks about home she shuts down. Bette notices the shift in her behaviour before Magdalene’s face has even dropped, and shifts the conversation in another direction. Soon it’s a respectable time to head to the arena and they all pay their tabs, Magdalene going first and then ducking out of the bar that became crowded while they were sitting down.

The fresh air feels good against her skin, and she takes the time alone to regulate her thoughts. There’s still several hours until she can return home and cry in the shower over the mention of her family so it’s important to present a calm facade. Bette comes out slightly ahead of the other girls and checks in with her friend, but Magdalene assures her she’s okay. It was a bit of a spook, but the other girls have no idea about how fucked up her familial situation is so Magdalene can’t hold it against them. The arena is a few blocks over, so the group walks towards it at a brisk pace. Magdalene’s mind is still churning from the bar when they step inside, so she peels off from the rest of the group. Warm ups are about to start and she knows that seeing Ryan will help to calm her down, at least until they can go home and she can sequester herself away from the rest of the world.

She finds a space against the glass and strains her eyes for her new favourite number. Ryan hasn’t made it out on the ice yet, but Tyson gives her a big wave when he skates past. It takes a few seconds, though it feels like years, but Ryan eventually steps out, all long limbs and hair and dazzling smile as his teammates give him big hi-fives. Magdalene doesn’t want to intrude but she needs to spend a few moments with him to feel completely present. When he skates by she waves shyly, and Ryan doubles back once he realizes who it is.

“There’s my favourite girl!” he shouts over the crowd, making sure Magdalene can hear.

The phrase brings a smile to her face, which in turn makes Ryan light up more. “Hi Ry,” she yells back. “I just wanted to come and say hi.”

Ryan’s heart warms at her words, but he knows that’s not the only reason. He’s lived with her long enough to know that something is bothering her but he isn’t going to push. There isn’t much time to have a conversation, so Ryan takes the time to make plans for after the game. “You riding home with me?”

Magdalene nods. “Yeah. Bette picked me up this morning so I didn’t drive.”

The loud sound of sticks clapping against the ice startles them both, and it’s Ryan’s teammate’s way of getting him to refocus. Magdalene says goodbye and before Ryan heads back to the bench he flips a puck over the glass for her. She smiles brightly, and watches him skate away. On her way up the stairs she hands it to a little girl wearing a much too big Graves jersey. It makes her night, and Magdalene returns to the private box she’s watching the game from feeling much lighter than when she entered the arena.

☼☼☼☼

Later, much later, after all of Ryan’s post game media and sitting through the traffic of downtown, Magdalene opens up about what was bothering her at the arena. The two of them are curled up in Ryan’s bed buried under a mass of blankets with several pillows strewn about. It’s become a frequent place for them to spend time, and every time they lay down Magdalene rests her head on Ryan’s chest and he keeps her in place with his arms wrapped tightly around her. Magdalene’s clutching his hoodie tighter than usual, her voice small as she speaks into the darkness of the room.

“I didn’t just want to say hi earlier.”

Ryan isn’t surprised by her confession, but wants to know what caused the surprise visit. “No? What was it?”

Magdalene lift head and shifts to face him, propping herself up with an open palm. “It’s kind of stupid,” she mumbles, feeling dumb for even bringing it up. Ryan doesn’t want to know the sob story that is her past life. “But it’s mostly okay now.”

“You don’t have to tell me, and I don’t want to push, but I think getting it off your chest will help,” he whispers, feeling like talking in a normal voice could startle the girl in front of him.

He’s right – Magdalene knows it. Telling someone the truth, as much of the truth as she can share, other than Bette would do her some good. Her therapist once said Magdalene needed to work on letting people in, and she figures there’s no one better than Ryan. “One of the girls asked me about home when we were getting drinks, and it’s just a really sore subject for me. I shut down and just needed to see you to ground myself.” Ryan goes to talk, but Magdalene continues. “No one really knows, but I left for Denver as soon as I graduated high school. My parents weren’t the greatest, and I suffered a lot emotionally at home. When I told them I was leaving, they told me never to come back and we haven’t spoken since. So yeah, that’s pretty much it. And I just needed to see you to remind myself that I’m okay without my family. You’re part of my family now, the one that really matters.”

Ryan is speechless. “Oh bug,” he sighs, heart hurting for all the pain Magdalene has experienced in her life. “I’m so sorry.” He wants to scream for her, maybe even break something, but all his anger dissipates when he looks down and sees her crying. Silently, Ryan wipes away the tears with the pad of his thumb and holds Magdalene until she stops trembling. They lay in silence for a while, sitting with the weight of the confession she just made. At some point Caligula shuffles in and finds a spot at Ryan’s side that isn’t occupied by Magdalene. The three of them feel like a little family, and it’s too good for Magdalene not to do something about.

“Can I kiss you?”

She’s never been so confident while asking a question. Magdalene knows he wants to kiss Ryan, has known for a while, and after baring her soul to him it seems like an appropriate time to take the plunge. They’ve never truly been just friends and everyone around them, including themselves, knows it.

“Mags,” Ryan says in a gentle yet stern voice, “I’m not gonna kiss you. You’ve just been very vulnerable with me, which I appreciate, and though I really really want to fucking kiss you I’m going to take advantage of you like that.”

If it were possible, Magdalene’s heart would expand so much it would be close to bursting. “I promise this is what I want and that I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. So please shut the fuck up and let me kiss you.”

She leans forward to connect their lips, and it feels like a fire has been ignited in her veins. Ryan is soft and gentle with the right amount of grit to make Magdalene weak in the knees. They move in tandem, giving and taking where necessary, and by the time they pull apart for air Magdalene thinks she’ll never be able to kiss anyone other than Ryan. When he looks at her, eyes kind and glimmering with light, Magdalene is certain kissing other people is off the table.

Neither of them make an effort to talk about what just happened or what it means. Instead, Magdalene kisses him again, and again, and keeps going until she’s completely out of breath. There’s no protest from Ryan, and he looks as blissful as Magdalene feels. She rests her head on his chest again and he cards his fingers through her hair as they sit in the comfortable silence that surrounds them.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene keeps kissing Ryan, and he keeps kissing her. It’s always in the safety of his apartment, oftentimes with Caligula in the way, but wholesome and loving and warm. They haven’t defined their relationship, and truthfully Magdalene is glad. She likes being friends with Ryan and doesn’t know how the added pressures of dating would affect them – though she might like kissing him more than just being friends.

It becomes routine for either of them to reach for a kiss before heading to the door. Magdalene gets one every time she leaves for work, and if she’s there before Ryan has to leave for games he’s pulled into her lips by his tie. It’s fun and it’s new and Magdalene never wants it to end. She keeps the secret for a couple weeks, but eventually it becomes too much to hold in and she tells Bette one Saturday when they meet for brunch at Barn Owl because the boys are away.

“I kissed Ryan.” It’s out of her mouth like a bullet, cutting through the air and ringing out. Bette is shocked, jaw dropping, only to open further when Magdalene corrects herself. “Been kissing Ryan, actually.”

“You’re fucking joking,” Bette laughs, still not one hundred percent sure Magdalene is being serious. When the brunette nods her head, she squeals in what can only be presumed as delight. “Shut up! Tell me everything!”

Magdalene indulges her friend, and spills every detail she’s willing to share. Part of her wants to keep a bit of her life with Ryan a secret so she does, but Bette is more than willing to work with the information given. She listens carefully while Magdalene talks and waits until there’s nothing more to say before diving into a long list of reasons why kissing Ryan is the best thing that’s ever happened to her friend. Magdalene isn’t sure that it’s great because Bette will always have someone to go to games with, but she is in agreement that it is one of the best choices she’s ever made. They spend the rest of the morning giggling like school girls over potential love and Magdalene heads back to Ryan’s place feeling light and airy.

☼☼☼☼

The first thing Ryan does when he comes home is kisses Magdalene. She’s sitting on the couch with Caligula on her lap reading a book, and he doesn’t even bother to drop his bags on the floor before leaning over the worn leather and connecting their lips. It feels heavenly after the days-long absence and Magdalene chases his lips when Ryan pulls away.

“I missed you.”

They’re three words that shouldn’t mean much, but coming from him they send Magdalene spiralling. He missed her? The girl who spends her days geeking out over old documents and talks to her cat? Regardless of how true the statement is she appreciates it, because Magdalene missed Ryan more than she could ever explain.

“How was the flight home?” she asks, twirling a lock of his hair around her index finger and pulling him down for another kiss. Ryan happily obliges, and kisses her until Caligula begins to meow for attention. The cat practically launches himself into Ryan’s arms as he rounds the corner to sit down next to Magdalene, and purrs loudly at being reunited with the tall man.

Ryan laughs at the animal’s antics before wrapping his spare arm around Magdalene and pulling her close. “It was fine. We hit a bit of turbulence that made it hard to sleep but I managed,” he replies, and reaches for the television remote. Magdalene hums in response, resting her head on Ryan’s shoulder and returning her attention to the book in her hands. It’s silent except for the low buzz of the television as Ryan reviews tape, but neither of them mind. Co-existing is enough for both of them, and it’s peaceful and easy. The occasional conversation occurs but they mostly do their own thing, enjoying the feeling of being together again. More than a few kisses are shared, and Magdalene eventually pries herself away from Ryan long enough to make dinner.

They stayed glued to each other until Magdalene falls asleep. Ryan doesn’t even notice when it happens, but eventually he tries to leave the couch to get a glass of water and finds dead weight on top of him in the shape of the girl he just might love. Magdalene’s snoring softly, and he’s positive there is nothing more adorable in the entire world. A glance at the clock on the wall alerts Ryan to the fact that he should go to bed too, and he begins to brainstorm how to get Magdalene into bed without waking her. She’s been exhausted lately, working extended hours, and he knows she needs all the rest she can get.

It takes a few moments to coordinate, but Ryan gets himself upright without Magdalene realizing she’s no longer using him as a pillow. Gently he scoops her into his arms and pads down the hallway, careful not to hit her ankles on the walls or door frames. Once inside her room, Ryan tucks Magdalene into bed and makes sure her phone is on the nightstand just where she likes it. She looks so content in sleep that he can’t help but lean down and press a shirt kiss to her forehead.

“Night Mags,” he whispers into the dark, wondering if she’ll wake and hear all the adoration his voice holds.

Magdalene stirs at the noise, and opens her eyes to see Ryan’s retreating figure. “Night Ry.”

It’s late, approaching two in the morning, when Magdalene’s phone starts ringing off the hook. Though Ryan has told her multiple times that she doesn’t need to turn her sound on before she goes to bed, she can never find it in her to heed his words. What if there’s an emergency somewhere and some hospital has to get a hold of her? Magdalene would never be able to forgive herself if she was too late because she slept through the incoming calls.

Despite her underlying fears of missing something important, Magdalene considers letting it go to voicemail. She’s exhausted, between the high maintenance projects at work and trying her hardest to go to every Avalanche home game she can, and if it’s urgent she’s sure the person will call again if they need her. It rings three more times before Magdalene decides to pick it up – if only to stop the incessant noise.

Not bothering to even see who’s calling at such an ungodly hour, Magdalene speaks in a sleep-laden voice that betrays what she was doing not even a minute prior. “Hello?”

Bette answers her, offering a quick but sincere apology for the time but explaining that it couldn’t wait. Magdalene groans in contempt, thinking that it most certainly could have waited a few more hours. She doesn’t voice her opinion however, instead waiting for her friend to spill whatever news was making her bounce up and down on the other side of the line.

She’s about to hang up when Bette utters a sentence Magdalene’s been waiting for but never thought she’d hear at one fifty-seven am. “I’m getting married!”

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlouisbluesbrat21 @denis-scorianov @danglesnipecelly @c-tangerine @stormingroses @spine-buster @rapidfever @bb-nhlqueen7 (add yourself to the taglist!)

#ryan graves imagine #ryan graves x oc #ryan graves fic #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #dmtteol

[bigskydreaming]

Hi! I was reading a fanfic and it brought up Roy and Dick's fight, which I see a lot of in fics but never what they fought about and consequently why they don't talk. I thought it was a vague excuse/reason why Roy was Jason's friend not Dick's anymore but this fic brought up when Dick was batman so I was wondering if there was actually a fight between them? Btw I really enjoy your metas! They're v thought out and well articulated. Also it's v easy to separate what's your opinion and what's fact which is. Very helpful for me

Yeah this is one hundred percent a fanon thing that's kept deliberately vague to justify why Roy in his friendship with Jason seems to have no positive thoughts or concerns about Dick whatsoever. Now granted, Dick and Roy are not nearly as close in the New 52 as they were pre-Reboot. The lack of their friendship there is definitely one of the things I disliked most about the Reboot - and I actually don't care if Jason and Roy are friends tbh, its the total erasure of his history with Dick as if he can't be friends with both, that like, bugs most.

But so like, yeah, Roy and Dick aren't super close when they interact on the Titans in the New 52, but there's literally nothing in any of their interactions that explains the complete absence of him from Roy's life or a reason that Roy would like, hate him the way he tends to in a lot of Jason-centric fics.

When you factor in pre-Reboot stuff though, it starts to get a LOT more.....uh wyd? And this is why I have trouble buying that people just write Roy and Jason the way they do because its the only thing they know from recent comics. Like one, most fans talk about how they don't even read the source comics, so there's no reason their knowledge of the characters or events would be limited to just recent comics if they're going off wiki summaries and scans anyway. And second, most fans AREN'T limited in their knowledge to just recent comics.

Like, the second people start writing Roy and Jason and Kori but with their pre-52 characterizations and references to events from THAT timeline, it all gets very messy, the way they're like, completely antagonistic towards Dick a lot of the time. Because Roy and Dick were always solid. Yes, they fought. A lot. But they always, ALWAYS made up afterwards. They had conflict about Roy's drug addiction - it didn't stop Dick from being there to support him through rehab, or Dick being the first person Roy called to help him get Lian after he learned of her existence. Dick literally held Lian before Roy ever did? He's the one who first put her in Roy's arms for the first time.

(Which is the prime grudge I and most Dick Grayson fans have about Roy and Jason fics which make Jason like, the absolute apple of Lian's eye. If you want to expand Lian's circle of loved and trusted ones to include Jason as Roy's friend and thus her uncle, like go for it! But there's zero reason that should require invalidating and erasing the fact that Dick was this little girl's adored godfather and uncle for pretty much her entire life. And the way Dick is just shoved offstage from Lian's life entirely, to slot Jason into his place as though they're completely interchangeable, its like....THAT'S the kind of thing that gets people irey about how Jason 'steals' Dick's dynamics and character relationships.

Because there's nothing saying they both can't be major players in Roy and Lian's lives! But just that they're not interchangeable! You need to develop the specific role Jason plays there WITHOUT just overwriting everything Dick actually did in relation to the two of them pre-Flashpoint, which is what you're drawing from the second you write Lian, unless you're specifically going with the few appearances we've had of her within literally just the last year.

But I mean, when people just search and replace Dick Grayson in all Roy and Lian's pre-Reboot stories and act like Jason was the one doing all of that instead.....why wouldn't fans of the source material be annoyed by a character getting credit for interactions and things done for Lian and Roy that Jason literally NEVER DID, while at the EXACT SAME TIME, conjuring some mysterious, unnamed 'Falling Out' that Roy and Dick had, that was clearly all Dick's fault, and resulted from him being basically excised entirely from Roy and Lian's lives?

Same with Kori, for the record, and like despite being Dick's ex, she and Dick have NEVER been like, estranged? She and Dick have often been close even after their breakup. None of it makes any sense, and the fact that a lot of fans don't even try to make it make sense or justify it, and expect other fans to just be fine with settling for an inexplicable reversal of Dick's every actual dynamic with these characters while setting up Jason to occupy the exact same role Dick played in these other characters' lives, like.....lol. Its fun.)

Anyway, back to your question, like, there are fights you can go with pre-Reboot as the source of various conflicts between Dick and Roy - but again, I maintain its just as crucial that they're always written as getting past them. They have a very tempestuous relationship because they are the two people MOST likely to call each other on their shit, two of the two people WITH the most shit in common due to the parallels in their childhoods and the roles they've occupied in the Titans and the superhero community in general, and the two people most resistant to being called out on their shit by each other, lol. Mostly in that case because like, they do recognize that they have a lot in common and understand each other very well, so the second the other is calling them out for something, they're usually like "ugh, if HE'S saying this, its probably true and I am just not prepared yet to be wrong about this. I need more time being unjustifiably rawr about things." Its like that thing where they both look at each other doing something that feels familiar or calls back to their own reasons for doing something and they're like ugh I'm in this picture and I don't like it.

So they clash. A lot. But always with the implicit bedrock of like, there's nothing either of them can do or say to the other that will push the other away for good.

They fought over Roy replacing Dick as leader of the Titans when Dick's wedding fell apart, even though Roy actually didn't want to do it and was kinda pushed into it by the government, but again, Dick like, got over it and realized it was for the best and forgave Roy for it that very same issue. And on and on. It always went like that. So there's plenty of stuff that can be used or pointed at as a source of conflict between the two, but the part I'll always call unbelievable is the idea that they never make up after one of these fights. Why now? What fight, specifically, is so bad between them that despite everything else they've gone through AND gotten past, they can't get past this one? Y'know?

So yeah, that's my take on this. There is no definitive falling out between Dick and Roy as many fics like to point to in order to shove him offscreen and make room for Jason in Roy and Lian's lives, and personally, I just don't find it necessary and I actually think it makes Roy look REALLY bad. Because when you're not specifically detailing all the things that Dick has actually DONE for Roy, the lengths to which he's been there for his friend, and like, specifically invalidating each and every one of them as something that never happened in a particular fic, then literally anyone who reads that fic and has their own awareness of Dick and Roy's friendship is kiiiiiinda likely to be reading that and thinking wow what an ungrateful asshole, when Roy's just written as bitching about Dick with Jason and sandbagging him without any real explanation as to WHY, beyond just 'oh they had a fight years ago.'

(And coming up with some random awful thing that Dick did to justify Roy hating him now isn't like, a superior alternative, lmao, because again, its still just trashing one character for the sake of getting him out of the way of two other characters' friendship and people are going to think what they think about that).

Anyway, my now standard stock disclaimer that like, there doesn't actually need to be a canon fight obviously, for people to just write things this way and handwave that Dick and Roy had an epic falling out years ago and now they just hate one another or whatever, or just Roy hates him or vice versa. Obviously people are free to do what they want. They don't need a reason other than "I want to write it this way so Jason and Roy are friends and Jason doesn't have to 'share' him with Dick or have his friendship be overshadowed by their greater history together." That just happens to be a reason that no Dick Grayson fan is ever really going to be happy about, lol, for what should be perfectly obvious reasons, so it honestly shouldn't be surprising to people that fans of the source material often gripe about it.

Because yeah fanfic is a tremendous opportunity to transform the source material into something better, but if what's better for some fans actively takes away what was working perfectly well for other fans the original way, they're going to say that. Especially in a fandom where so many new fans take their view of the characters and their dynamics from fics rather than the source material - when fandom has that much of an influence on what new fans perceive to be 'canon,' fans are perfectly within their right to emphasize what is ACTUALLY canon and what isn't, so that new fans at least have the opportunity to determine for themselves what take they want to go with, instead of just accepting at face value that the nature of say, Dick and Roy's relationship is just that Roy hates Dick because of some mumble mumble ancient history vague mumble details not found mumble mumble fight.

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Post 200. CW for flesh(sortof), dark, lonely, beholding, web, desolation; lil implicit d/s, sort of; martin and jon being fucked up but trying to love each other all the same; 

Martin sits up with a gasp; his heart is racing, and he finds himself blinking frantically at the white, unfamiliar wall in front of him.

No.

Not unfamiliar.

“Martin?” mumbles a beloved, infuriating, sleepy voice behind him. 

A gentle hand creeps up under his shirt, fingers dancing on his lower back. Martin closes his eyes again, and tries to slow his breathing.

“I’m fine,” he mutters. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m fine, it’s all fine.”

“...Right,” says Jon quietly.

Martin’s heart is heavy, and he immediately feels guilty. But he doesn’t look back. It’s too early to look back. Jon’s hand has too many fingers again this morning.

*

Martin stares at the white, blank wall in front of him. He wishes he could look at the window instead, but the sun hasn’t risen this morning; the day is black as night, except there’s not even a moon, or stars, or any sort of light -- but the wall is there, pristine white even now, and it’s so empty.

“We should decorate,” he says, eventually.

“Mmh?” Jon’s face is hidden against his hip. He hates it when it’s all black, the same way he hates it when they’re losing touch of who they are, or what anything is. 

“We’re gonna be here forever, aren’t we?” Martin asks. It’s not the first time. He can’t help reminding himself, sometimes. “So we should decorate.”

Slowly, Jon raises his head; there’s an incredulous and fond smile on his lips that make Martin’s insides twist as ever. “I’m not sure it’ll stick,” he says. “You know how this house is.”

“Yeah, well.” Martin hesitates. Licks his lips. Squares his shoulders. “It’s ours now, isn’t it? We live here. So. If we’re playing by its rules, maybe it should let us like; put, put a frame or something, y’know?”

Jon’s eyes are crinkling. “I suppose,” he says. “We could try.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Martin tries to think of what they could decorate the wall with; his mind came up blank. Never mind, he tells himself, glaring at the shadow monster that’s trying to grow alongside the corner of the bedroom. Never mind. There’ll forever be a tomorrow, anyway.

*

Martin is staring at the wall of the bedroom; the faces in the picture frames smile at him, mouth and eyes faded. They never truly existed, did they? Or if they did, they were nothing but a reassuring lie. Outside, the fog is so dense it covers everything. Martin itches to get up and open the window. 

A denser shadow than the rest closes the curtains abruptly; there’s anger and fear in the gesture, and when Martin slowly turns to study it, the shadow slowly turns into Jon. 

They stare at each other. Jon hesitates. Opens his mouth. Closes it again. 

His eyes are a bottomless pit of loneliness, a perfect reflection of Martin’s. It does not matter that this is their bedroom. They’re not together, they’ve never fitted together, they’ll never be together ever again. Jon always meant to chose the world before Martin. It’s how it is.

It’s how it’ll always be.

He blinks. The man he loves is a grey shadow that seems to disappear in the walls. Martin lays back in bed, and lets himself fade as well.

*

Jon is staring at the wall of their bedroom. No. Martin is staring at it No. The wall is staring at them both. 

“Can’t you make it stop?” Martin asks, exasperated. “I just want to sleep.”

“Tough,” Jon mutters distractedly, which is even more infuriating.

“Jon.”

“What?”

“Just! Do something!” 

“I think we both agreed, multiples times, that whenever I try to do something it’s bad,” Jon snaps.

“So what, you’re never going to make choices ever again?” Martin asks, exasperated. “What a brilliant plan.”

“I don’t have any choice to make,” Jon says, waving at the eyes peaking at them through every single corner of the room, of the myriads of faces pressed against the windows, eagerly waiting for them to fight again. “All I have to do is to wait and to keep them here. With me. If you don’t like them, Martin, there’s always the baseme--”

“Don’t you dare--”

“What? If you hate it all so much, I can’t do anything about it, but you can --”

“Shut up! Why do you always do this?”

“Why do you always ask me to find solutions if you don’t like the ones I came up with?”

Oh, how they’re drinking it all in, outside; how happy they are; how flushed Jon is, because it is his day, isn’t it, he looks more healthy than ever, and on those days Martin feels so sick --

“Do you want me to go there?” he asks. 

Jon stares, baffled; his anger deflating immediately. “Of course not.” 

Of course not. Martin wears it like a cape. Of course not. “Come here,” he says, and opens his arms. Jon leans to melt into the embrace easily. They hold each other too tight, and their eyes are burning. Is this the story they’re condemned to have? They think, together. Are they only ever going to be this, sadness and recriminations and frustration and --

Jon’s nails dig into his back. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Martin breathes. “I’m not leaving this house. It’s ours.”

*

There is a spider danging from the happy framed picture on the wall. Martin glares at it. 

“We’ll kill it,” Jon tells him. 

And so they will; they spoke it into existence. Martin decides it’s more important to focus on his husband that the small, helpless thing that’ll be crushed in a moment. Jon’s curls are full of cobwebs. Martin carefully starts to pick at them. Such fragile threads, that he easily captures and plays with --

He could push them under the bed, he supposes. Instead, he uses them to make the web necklace around Jon’s neck just a little bit more intricate. 

“Oh?” Jon hums. It’s careful, but not unhappy.

“I’m not going to choose forever,” Martin says quietly. “I don’t think I’m that good at it either, all things considered.”

“Better than me,” Jon breathes.

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You’ve barely ever got to decide anything at all. Not really.” 

“Martin --”

“You know it’s true. It’s just hard to accept, and that’s fair, I get it, okay? I can choose. Just for a little while. But not forever. I’m not doing it forever.”

There is so much tenderness and gratefulness in Jon’s eyes. Martin’s not sure he deserves such devotion, sometimes. But god, he wants to believe maybe he could grow to. Eventually.

“Okay,” Jon says. “Okay.”

“Lay back,” Martin orders gently. “I’m taking care of you now.”

*

The houseplant is ashes again; it’s the sort of day that’s so hot it makes Martin want to peel his skin off, except it’s not that kind of day day. Instead everything is dead and melting, and Martin still stubbornly reaches for Jon, who’s staring at the window, and the little girl who’s crying outside, her bright red hair falling into the grass one by one, creating little sparks that will soon make the world ablaze. 

“It’s the seventh time we’ve watched her burn,” Martin mutters.

“Eighth,” Jon corrects, because of course he does, before adding: “They’re not exactly imaginative.”

“Guess not.” Martin presses a kiss against his hair. “Why are you looking, though?”

“Just thinking.” Jon’s hand finds his, and squeezes it gently. “I don’t regret it, you know.”

Martin blinks. “Regret what?”

“The one choice I did make. I don’t regret it. If we’d waited, I would not have seen this; I wouldn’t not been able to save anything at all.”

“..Jon --”

“I want you to know,” Jon declares, firmer. “It’s important to me than you know. I don’t like that I trapped you into an eternity of -- of fear guardianship. But If we had gone with the original plan, if they’d managed to escape, ... I wouldn’t have been able to live with it, Martin. I wouldn’t have gotten better. There wouldn’t have been any fixing it. But here -- with you -- I... I think I can be happy. I want us to be happy.”

“Me too,” Martin says. “I want us to be happy too.”

“...Good,” Jon says.

“Good,” Martin repeats. And then, because he is tired of staring outside by the window, or at the wall, because Hill Top Road is much bigger than the bedroom they insist on spending so much time in, he tugs at Jon gently. “Come on,” he says. “I think I’d like some tea.”

“In this weather?” Jon asks, because he’s a brat, but when Martin rolls his eyes and pulls him away from the window, he follows with a warm smile.

#the magnus archives #tma stories #if i properly care and did not have dnd in like ten minutes i would have made all the repetitions longer and clearer #the house would have become a home and all the fears would have made an appearance and their problems would have been more settled #but since i CAN'T write the long version of this story where their eternal babysitters of the fears at hill top road... #have the short snippet unbetaed tumblr version of it