#during that moment with the representation of his past and future. and it just kept unfolding after that! THATS! how its done | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

*°:⋆ₓₒCollab Masterlistₓₒ⋆:°*

Pairing: All Might x Gn!Dom!Reader (Theme for this month was sex work au!)

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+ this is a dark fic, both dubcon/noncon, straight up, forced submission, bit of mind break, dom/sub dynamics, sub!All Might, dominant All Might later in, dark All Might, violence against reader, bodily harm, face fucking, spanking (for Toshi), thigh riding (for Toshi), blackmail, minor mentions of blood, bondage/rope play, reader is gender neutral, no pronouns used

Summary: You work as a popular dominant for pro heroes who need to give up control once in awhile and Yagi Toshinori is one of your best clients. But when word gets out to the media about your involvement with pros, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Though you quickly discover All Might does not take kindly to anyone who threatens his reputation.

It was all about the exchanging of power.

About the relinquishing of control—about letting go and the freedom that came with it.

And you?

You were just there to facilitate, to take over, to release all those bottled up years of stress that the camera’s weren’t supposed to see.

But you did.

You saw all of it.

It was about trust too. Trust in you to give them what they need and trust in them to do exactly as you instructed. And most of all, trust that everything stayed confidential. That the things said through tears and whimpers and sighs were kept quiet. Trust that they would show you the same respect and privacy you showed them.

You took these rules very seriously. They were the foundation your business was built on and it had earned you quite a lot of credibility. You prided yourself on it, as you should. Professionalism was key in your line of work. It made the clients feel a bit more comfortable—counteracted the sense of taboo that was usually associated with people like you.

People in “your line of work,” was the common way of referencing it. But you preferred to be clear and upfront, not skirt around the edges as though your job was something shameful.

Language was important too.

“Client,” “session,” etc...all added a buffering degree of separation for those you serviced. It was a crucial part of the balance which has allowed you to be so successful. They needed to be able to remove themselves from who they became once you were alone together. You’d learned that some amount of plausible deniability was key to achieving the complete relinquishing of authority. They had to be able to convince themselves after they’d walked away, that the crying, begging mess they’d become wasn’t who they really were—wasn’t actually a part of them, just something you’d done.

And by them, of course, you meant the heroes you served so dutifully.

And by serve, you meant completely and utterly dominate.

Contradictory to most common misconceptions, your job wasn’t always about sex—though it could be and was at time—but truly, it was about release.

And above all, it was about power and who got to hold it.

When that structure was broken—when the rules were strayed from—that’s when things got murky. But you were good at what you did, so luckily, that hadn’t been much of an issue.

What more could one expect from someone whose services are sought out by the Symbol of Peace himself?

Hm.

You really ought to get that put on your business cards.

***

It was late when he came to you, though that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Occasional hero work coupled with a teaching schedule and numerous media appearances left one very little free time. Fortunately, you conducted most of your business during the small hours of the morning, so Yagi Toshinori showing up at your door as the clock ticked its way past two wasn’t a shock.

You fell into the usual rhythm of things easily.

Toshi was one of your newest, but most favorite clients. You came highly recommended from many of his coworkers, and after an initial meeting over drinks to discuss his needs, you struck up a routine that worked for the both of you.

Of course he paid you handsomely for your time.

Constantly being in the public eye, acting as an unwavering representation of hope for the future was tiring. You were more than happy to take the weight off his very broad shoulders for once.

And bend him over your knee instead.

“Five,” he panted, whimpers of thanks and your name spilling out around his loose tongue as your hand connected sharply with the meat of his ass again.

You always asked to be called by name, no frilly titles to get in the way and complicate the dynamic. When they walked into your space, they set aside their hero personas and you afforded them the same intimacy.

Names meant something. Names were power and so they mattered, particularly in this game you played together. Equality had to be achieved before domination.

“Good boy Toshi, you’re doing so well,” you cooed and brought your palm down twice, watching the skin on the backs of his thighs bloom pink like sakura in the spring.

“S-six, seven,” there was a wet spot forming under his mouth on the sheets and on your lap where his cock was bare and leaking. “Ah, please—harder!”

You raised your brow as he turned his head to look at you with those teary, dark eyes and you could never resist a look like that.

“You want it harder, why’s that?” you wound back and smacked roughly over the raised welts that made him hiss and sob. “Is this what you deserve for being so weak?”

He may have been thin now, skeletal compared to the face he showed the public, but you didn’t mind. He trusted you enough to let his guard down, and his weight was still thick and full across your legs. It was invigorating to see a man like All Might, reduced to this. Whatever pent up guilt he carried inside, you were here to help let it all out in the best way you knew how.

“Yes!” Toshi cried and buried his face into the plush fabric of your comforter as you delivered the last three harsh blows of the punishment he paid you for. “Fuck yes, I’m weak and I’m a failure and I deserve this—!”

“That’s right, you’re a piss poor excuse for a hero and you haven’t earned your title,” you wrapped two thick locks of his hair around your hand and yanked hard till he craned his neck to face you. “What would the world say if they could see what a sobbing mess you are when no one’s looking?”

He opened his mouth to speak, hips twitching and grinding uselessly against your thigh. The second that plush pink tongue dipped past his lips, you were rearing back to spit straight between his teeth.

Toshi’s face was always priceless in these moments. You’d almost be willing to do it for free if you only got to see the way his brows shot up and those red rimmed eyes blew so wide as you steeled yourself and looked him dead on.

“Now, swallow like the little bitch I know you are.”

And he did, of course he does, because behind your bedroom door Yagi Toshinori was your good boy. So you got to watch his throat bob as your spit slid down and he moaned so pretty at the awful things you said to him.

Your palm kneaded against the red, raw flesh of his ass and you watched how he squirmed at the sting. The room was filled with the scent of sweat and expensive cologne. Your head was spinning from the smell alone and the high of the control you wielded over this man. His hands fisted hard in your bed sheets and you let him helplessly rut against you a few times before running your free hand up the graceful curve of his spine.

“Oh, you really are so disgusting Toshi,” you mused as your nails dig into the planes of muscles to drag angry red lines over the skin. “Did you really get that hard from me slapping this tight little ass of yours?”

He groaned pathetically and nodded, not bothering to hide how his dick had been oozing obscene amounts of precum every time you etched a new welt on his skin. The blush that crept up his chest and painted his cheeks had spread between his legs too. The unfairly massive cock that Toshi sported was flushed a dark angry red at the tip and you couldn’t help but have mercy on him.

Well, only a little bit.

You weren’t here to be nice tonight, even if a part of you might have liked to be.

“Do you want to cum, Toshi?” you asked, lacing your voice with the false sweetness you knew he loved. “Have you been aching for it all night?”

He keened, crying your name and rutting his hips harder against you. It sent a rush of warmth between your legs despite your better efforts to remain unaffected. This wasn’t about you, this was about ownership and his pleasure.

“Mhmm,” his voice was little more than a rasp, “wanna cum so bad, please!”

You laughed, but it was a cruel thing and you knew he could feel the rumble of it in his scarred chest.

“You did so perfectly taking your punishment,” you raked your nails over the raised handprints again just to hear him cry out. “I suppose I’ll let you cum, but you’ll have to work for it.”

Toshi’s breathing was ragged as you helped him up to straddle one of your legs. His swollen cock rested on the plushest part of your thigh, the tip nudging your hip and drawing choked gasps from the man towering above you.

He stared down at you, confused when you didn’t move to stroke him.

“Go on, then,” you smiled up at him, resting your weight on your palms so you could lean back and watch the show. “I said you’d have to work for it, didn’t I?”

You punctuated your question with a bounce of your knee that rocked his length against the fabric of your pants. It didn’t take long for him to catch on, eyes squeezing shut against the waves of shame and embarrassment that just made it so much hotter as he slowly began to ride your thigh.

He might be paying you to be ruthless, but Toshi was kind to a fault from what you’ve learned of him and he ke[t most of his massive weight held on the balls of his feet so you weren’t crushed below him. Under any other circumstances, you might have actually enjoyed that quite a bit, but his face—cherry red with spit-slicked lips held parted with the force of his pants—was enough for now.

His cock was so heavy you almost couldn’t believe it was real. You nearly didn’t the first time he’d stripped for you, but even just the drag of it through your clothes was delectable. It was so long and thick you needed both hands to wrap fully around it, and he gushed like a fucking gieser when you got him under your metaphorical boot.

With every rock of his bony hips, his length was forced up against the curve of your stomach and he whined at the glistening strands of slick that connected his tip to you.

“Come on, Toshi,” you clicked your tongue disappointedly at him, letting a hand fall to the puckered skin at his waist, squeezing harshly. “I know you can do better than that.”

He was beyond words now, you could tell by the way his jaw was loose and his teeth clacked with every thrust, but he did gasp out a long, high pitched moan that made up for it. The speed of his humping increased, becoming erratic as he hunched on the bed, hands beside yours. He loomed over you but anyone could tell just by the composed, serene smile playing at your lips—and the absolutely wrecked noises spilling from Toshi—just which one of you was really in control.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?”

You knew he liked it when you spewed filth to him right before he boiled over and you were more than willing to oblige.

“You’re gonna cum like a fucking teenager humping his pillow, isn’t that right?” you snarled the words up at him and he really did cry then, big fat tears dripping down onto your shirt. “All Might, the number one hero is gonna cum all over my lap like the slut he is.”

He nods frantically. You know his balls were tensing up as he sobbed and spluttered—completely ruined. Just the way he needed to be.

“Then cum.”

You finally wrapped your fist just around his aching tip and he exploded into your palm. Rope after rope of sticky, white release coated your arm and dripped onto the bed. He kept grinding his hips, working himself through the climax, cock still pulsing and leaking in your grip. You didn’t mind the mess.

He always tipped a bit extra if he left stains anyway.

Such a gentleman.

When the last wave of his orgasm had petered out, Toshi collapsed to the side with his face buried in your pillow and his long legs still strewn across your lap. He didn’t usually ask for much in the realm of aftercare, preferring that you cleaned him and let him rest for a bit before he suited up and rushed off into the night.

You gave him a minute before you got up to wet a warm cloth in the sink. He looked so destroyed, you couldn’t help but admire your handiwork. As you palm his ass once more, fingers spreading him so his pink hole was on display, you slipped your phone silently from your pocket, and snapped a few shots of the nasty red hand marks and smears of cum as he groaned deeply at the touch.

His voice was lower as he grunted and you could tell he’s coming out of the subspace you’d thrust him into hours before. Quickly you slid the device smoothly away before lifting his legs from you and settling them gently on the bed to work on tidying up your mess.

You didn’t feel particularly good about keeping this kind of collateral, but as much power as you hold in the four walls of your bedroom, you were frustratingly weak once you left them. These men you worked with, while generally professional, were also top heroes. Top heroes who really didn’t want their embarrassing private lives getting out. Top heroes who thrived off reputation and who would willingly throw you under the bus in a second to protect that.

You liked Yagi Toshinori.

But you didn’t know him.

Smacking someone’s ass or stroking their cock every few weeks didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.

So you kept your personal insurance that would be there should one of your clientele decide to forsake you in favor of their public image. And you would never use it unless you absolutely had too.

After all, this was about trust and power and the exchange of those two things. Or at least it was supposed to be. Trust was quite a subjective thing.

The general citizenry trusted All Might to protect them against the growing evil in Japan’s underground. But behind the scenes, you knew his failing health had caused him to seek you out as the intense guilt of his lie came crashing down on him.

Toshi trusted you to relieve his pain and indulge in his degrading fantasies, and you hadn’t failed him yet.

But your trust was not easily bought, and none of your customers ever paid much mind to whether your perceived belief in them was genuine.

After so many glimpses into the messes of pro-heroes personal lives, you knew you’d have to be your own protector. Hence, the photos remained in a locked folder hidden away as you sat yourself down next to the dozing hero and wiped away as much evidence of your meeting as you could.

“How are you feeling?” you asked quietly, lathing the warm cloth between his legs and softening length.

“Good, all things considered,” he responded, voice returned to it’s normal, deep baritone.

“I sincerely hope you won’t have to do much sitting tomorrow,” you quipped and it earned you a chuckle.

“I’ll manage.”

You rolled him gently and finished clearing the rest of his spend from the flat expanse of his stomach. Toshi mumbled his thanks and you gave his thigh a friendly squeeze before retreating from the room to shower and change yourself.

He’d be gone by the time you got out, notification of payment on your phone and a sizable tip left on your dresser as a parting gift.

And as long as Yagi Toshinori was just as good a boy on the outside as he was here, then the world would never need to know what their Symbol of Peace got up behind your closed doors.

***

“All Might! Mister All Might, sir!”

The grating voice of that shithead reporter echoed through the speakers of your headphones over and over again. Your hand shook as the train stuttered to a halt and a wave of passengers burst out onto the platform.

“All Might, are the rumors true!?”

Your stomach sank as the reporter shouted your name above the ruckus of microphones and camera flashes and roaring bodies. Their voice was like chalk on your tongue, dry and cracked and clamoring to know whether the Symbol of Peace was involved with the recently revealed ‘seedy’ and ‘scandalous’ sex ring between yourself and multiple top ranking heroes.

You’d been out having a relaxing lunch with friends in the city when everyone’s phones blew up. It wasn’t that you hid the general details of your job, but by the looks on their faces were enough to make your face burn. The judgement was clear—what you did was abhorrent, disgusting and by extension, so were you. Reporters had caught you on camera with a certain second ranking pro and very quickly deduced exactly who you were and what services you offered.

The tabloids took it and ran, dragging your reputation behind them.

Call after call and text, dms on your social media pages, all from news outlets requesting interviews or quotes or hero fans calling you a ‘shameless whore’ for going after pros—hell death threats had even begun to fill your inboxes.

Hero fans really were ride or die, you supposed, although the ‘die’ in that scenario seemed to refer more to you than themselves. They would never believe their precious big boy crush had ever associated with the likes of you, had ever willingly kneeled for you—had ever enjoyed it.

They couldn’t understand the things you did, all they saw was some false emasculation.

And if it came out that Toshinori had any contact with you, his career would be ruined.

You had hoped from the little you’d learned about him in your sessions, that he’d simply deny knowing you existed at all. That he’d have mercy on you, treat you like the thousand helpless civilians he pulled from burning buildings or whatever the hell heroes did these days.

But you’d been right before to say that you didn’t know Toshi.

And now you certainly didn’t like him either.

“Are you one of the pros involved?” the reporter hounded again as All Might’s massive form panned into frame.

“As your Symbol of Peace, I certainly do not partake in such degenerate behavior,” his words rang out, deep and resonating. “I would never associate with someone who’s actions border on criminal.”

The dark, soulless pits he called eyes stared mockingly from your tiny screen as his signature laugh reverberated through your ears along with the train’s clacking breaks. You ripped the headphones from your ears and closed out of the app, ducking your head and pushing towards the door. Everyone’s eyes were drilling into you, worming deep under your skin and making you squirm like so many of those heroes had done on your silk sheets.

Rationally, you were aware not many people would have seen the story yet. Tabloid trash took a day or two to disseminate into the general social media outlets and for people to take notice. Your friends only knew because your name stuck out to them, but you were hardly recognizable in your typical citizen attire. Even still.

Your life, your work, all of it was on display.

And he’d called you a degenerate.

The infallible All Might had taken your name and tossed it in the guttered, likened you to a villain and single handedly destroyed everything you’d built in the process.

Years of effort and crawling your way up the ranks of society all for nothing.

All so some washed up hero could keep his fantasy of success going for just a little longer. Toshi trusted you with his secrets, his weakness, his body, and you’d defended that at every turn. The only thing he had to do was pay a small fee for your time and discretion.

But no amount of money could fix your toppled character. Nothing could reverse your place as a disgusting slut in the eyes of literal millions of people.

Bold of Yagi Toshinori to underestimate you so thoroughly, to think that you’d sit back in the rubble as he rescued cats and little kids and lived his delusion of perfection.

This was about trust and power.

When those lines were crossed, that’s when things got messy.

And you’d make sure to leave so big a mess, Toshi would never dream of coming back from it.

***

Your apartment building was thankfully free of any press when you arrived home. It had been a few days since All Might instigated your public slander, but the mass media hadn’t managed to track you down after you went into a short period of hiding.

You needed time to let all your other clients involved in the scandal play their cards.

There would be no use in condemning one just to have them warn the rest of their equally impending doom. That way you could be assured they’d all come crashing down with you. Especially the blonde poster boy of hero society himself.

His would be the sweetest fall.

It had been long enough now that you could start compiling. You locked the door behind you, shrugging off your coat and settling on the couch. The plush cushions sank as you fell back, pulling out your phone and scrolling through your contacts. Toshi was there, two red and blue hearts on either side of his name. You pulled up his text thread.

You’d thought about going public of course.

Of course you had.

Your entire career had been trashed, you’d been shamed by the number one hero himself and your personal life was blasted over social media.

But you were human, so you were weak.

And you had liked Toshi.

Well, you hated him now—a deeply dark, burning resentment—but before that, he’d been so sweet to you in a way that most were not. Respectful and nice and you were unused to it. So, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to eradicate his credibility in the same outright manner.

No, you had decided you’d give him a chance.

Because you were better than him.

A chance to atone, come clean, apologize the way you’re sure he would if his public image wasn’t so goddamn important to him. So you didn’t reach out to any of the media outlets that had been hounding your socials for the past week, and didn't offer them the inside scoop quite yet. Instead, you stared at the handsome contact photo of your hero client and slowly typed him up a message he couldn’t ignore.

It was short and sweet, polite but firm. You acknowledged he most certainly did not want to speak with you—in fact, you weren’t very inclined to speak with him ever again either—but you happened to be in possession of some fairly compromising photographic evidence of your time together. And if that evidence were ever to, say, end up in the pocket of the exact scandal rag that sent voice clips of All Might all but denouncing you as a whore to the nation, well. Things would certainly not end well for him.

But, you were nothing if not professional.

He knew that.

You never wanted to use these, but he had forced your hand. Of course you were more than willing to work out a deal with him.

He was your favorite client after all.

In any case, he knew how to reach you, and he had a generous 48 hours to give you an answer to your proposition.

Oh and you were kind enough to provide a little snapshot of just exactly the type of evidence you meant.

Your thumb hovered over the little blue arrow to send. The phone clacked against your nails as it shook in your grip, slick from sweat and frayed nerves. You couldn’t quite tell if you were anxious or angry or some awful combination of the two, but your heart was in your throat as you shut your eyes and pressed send.

There was no going back, and if this all came tumbling to the ground, you promised yourself that you would shatter gracefully.

Letting the screen go dim, you stared in silence at the small check mark confirming the message had been delivered and your fate sealed. You pulled yourself to your feet and made your way to the bedroom.

He’d get back to you soon, or maybe he wouldn’t. You couldn’t know for sure whether or not Toshi would simply ignore your texts and be blindsided when the deadline passed and you destroyed him all over again in a far less enjoyable manner than you used to. But whatever the case, it was out of your hands for now.

With aching feet and tired eyes, you stripped slowly and stumbled towards the bathroom. Turning the water to just below scalding, you did your best to scrub away any pesky remaining guilt that clung to you in a thin, suffocating film.

You told yourself that there was no other choice. That you would have found another way if there was one. That this was how business often went. You had seen it before when you first entered in the field of sex work and you’d see it again. So you scrubbed yourself raw and let all your doubts trickle down the drain.

Tonight, you would sleep restlessly, but it was a fair enough burden to carry for your honor.

You were foolish to believe the cost of revenge wouldn’t bear a heftier price.

***

You woke slowly, trapped momentarily in the strange limbo between sleep and consciousness that fooled you into thinking the strange tightness at your wrists was nothing more than a leftover side effect of a dream.

The reality was so much worse.

It wasn’t until you felt the blunt, radiating sting of knuckles backhanded against your cheek that the haze of sleep fell away, and you could truly appreciate the scene before you.

Which was to say, you could take the opportunity to scream before Yagi Toshinori’s fingers were shoved down your throat to muffle the noise. He was large, shirt seams full to bursting, and sporting an expression you’d never seen before. His eyes, while always dark, were like holes now and they filled you with an unfamiliar sense of dread.

He’d called you a villain before, and now he was looking at you like one too.

“Oh no,” Toshi hissed. His voice was impossibly deep, reverberating against your ribs painfully, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you.”

One quick bout of struggling made it very apparent he didn’t want you moving either as your wrists had been bound behind your back and your ankles were similarly immobilized. The fingers in your mouth pressed hard on your tongue, his thumb pushing below your chin to make you choke and splutter.

“You really let all that power get to your head, didn’t you?” Toshi’s voice was buzzing in your ears and mingling with the pain in your jaw. He put one massive knee on the mattress and hooked his fingers behind your teeth, forcing you to sit up from the bed.

You could feel your face burn as he looked down at you, drool slipping passed your lips and coating his fingers. The straining bulge in his pants looked even bigger than you remembered now that he was no longer the slip of a man you’d come to know as Yagi Toshinori.

No this was All Might, the Symbol of Peace.

And you got the feeling that whatever was about to happen, it was not going to be peaceful for you.

He had you tied and trussed like a piece of meat, and he would treat you like one. You’d seen this before, you’d tied these knots—he’d been where you were now, but he’d asked for it. The loss of control was never something you’d delighted in on a good day, and now the rising pressure in your chest and the sensation of walls closing had panic coursing through you.

“Did you really think that I’d come back here willing to grovel at your feet?” he jeered, the trademark smile on his face more snarl than grin.

He shook your jaw violently in his grasp, listening to the joints pop as they tried to stretch around his thick fingers. Your name left his mouth in a mock coo, just as you had done to him so many nights before. “Remember, you might get to call me a bitch but it’s only because I let you.”

Your hands trembled violently against the bonds which tore the delicate skin and rubbed it raw. Toshi’s free hand traveled along his thigh to rub himself through his pants, his knuckles brushing your nose as he bucked into his palm.

“But now you’ve stepped out of line,” he mused and clicked his tongue as though you were a student who’d done poorly on his latest exam. “And I’m going to make sure that whore mouth of yours never utters my fucking name again.”

Eyes wide with horror, you watched as Toshi’s fingers fumbled with the button and zipper of his slacks until his cock had sprung free, monstrous in length and girth, dripping onto your forehead.

You’d seen it before, but it seemed bigger now. So big that you’d never been able to take it, and Toshi had been staunchly against you ever trying lest he quite literally split you in two. But any kindness he’d shown you before was clearly off the table. His fingers pumped in and out of your throat as if preparing you somehow to take the stretch. It wouldn’t help. You knew that. He knew that.

Toshinori smiled as he removed his fingers in favor of digging the spit slicked digits into the joints of your jaw, ensuring you wouldn’t bite down on him as he pressed the spongy tip to your lips. The panic that had set in—making your blood rush and your limbs shake—was constricting your chest and the pressure of Toshi’s dick pushing past your teeth made your breathing even more erratic.

You whimpered loudly, trying to wrench your head away as the strong salt and musk flavor of his pre cum spread across your tongue, but that only made him thrust forward harder. His length quickly hit resistance back of your throat as you gagged and tears burned at the corners of your eyes.

The ache in your jaw was already unbearable and your bottom lip was being rubbed raw by warm spit and the friction of Toshi roughly fighting to sink his dick fully into your mouth.

“Mm, that’s it,” he groaned as you inadvertently licked over his tip, trying to force him away. “You look so much better like this.”

He ran a falsely sweet hand across your cheek, collecting the stream of tears and using the moisture to slick the rest of his length. Your chest heaved in a mixture of gags and increasingly violent sobbing. You were stretched painfully wide as he rolled his hips again, pushing the thickest bit of his cock into your mouth and forcing your teeth to dig painfully into your upper lip. With the next thrust, he was able to sink another excruciating inch deep into your throat. Blood rushed from where you bit yourself and caused crimson streaks to form as Toshi fucked slowly into your mouth.

Your mind was slipping.

You’d had so little time to process the encounter, so instead your brain had secluded most of your consciousness into a precious little box, away from the intense burning in your throat as Toshi finally sank all of his innumerable inches completely into you. Your throat bulged and protested, tightening in an attempt to force him out.

It only made him moan loudly and dig his fingers into your hair.

“See?” he huffed, pulling out at an agonizing pace only to ram his length in roughly to the hilt. “I’d never lie to my public, you really are just as much of a slut as they say you are.”

You shrieked around his cock, though it was muffled so badly by the lack of air and the wet slap of his constant thrusting that no one but you could hear the screaming in your own head. The pain was unbearable, this awful friction burning sensation that had your stomach churning and your chest wracked with stifled cries. Your bound legs kicked and your fingers grasped useless at the sheets as Toshi fucked your mouth reckless abandon.

Time blurred along with your vision, whether from the lack of oxygen or the tears you weren’t sure.

And most horrifyingly of all, was the pleasure that grew as your mind drowned the pain in darkness. You felt as though you were floating, disgusted but euphoric and the slide of him against your lips became delicious. Heat rose in you and built between your legs accompanied by a distant and unfamiliar ache to please, to be touched, to taste him, to obey.

You wondered if this was how he felt when you forced his mouth on you. If he slid into this strange space where your mind was a separate entity and the only thing that mattered was the pain and the pleasure and the release.

Because somehow, in the midst of your struggle and revulsion, he’d made this strange, incorporeal part of you enjoy this.

All the fight had drained out of you, letting your jaw hang slack and your tongue flick up to catch his tip on every backstroke. Your eyes flitted up to look at him through the haze of tears and sweat, hoping strangely that he’d be pleased with you. And the groan you earned yourself was delectable.

You gave in, then. Let yourself be swept away by the rushing of blood in your ears and the rhythm of Toshi tearing you apart.

At some point, you could distantly feel his thrusts becoming more erratic, turning into a rough grinding in your mouth.

You couldn’t even taste it when he came, his cock was too obscenely deep in your neck, but the warmth of it burned your bleeding throat and filled your belly with a hot finality.

You weren’t even afforded the dignity of spitting his seed onto the floor where it belonged, ignoring the searing voice in your head that revealed in being rewarded with his essence.

When Toshi finally pulled out and tucked himself away, your head fell limply to your chest. A series of violent coughs erupted from you as a thick, viscous mixture of blood and spit and cum dripped from your tongue.

Those impossibly large hands gripped your chin once again, forcing you to look up into those piercing black eyes.

“Now, you’re never going to speak about me again,” he wasn’t asking but you glared up at him as his hand fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone.

The device was comically small in those hands of his as he aimed it at your ruined face and snapped a picture—the flash blinding you while he reached around and roughly undid the knotted rope keeping you in place.

“Because if you do, I’ll make sure those reporters know everything I said about you was nothing but the truth.”

The loudest part of you wanted to scream, to punch and bite and tell him it wasn’t. That you were a professional, with self-respect and dignity and you were good and your job, but—

But when you opened your sore and aching jaw to shout, nothing came out.

No sound, no yell, no words.

Just this awful rasp that made your throat feel like pins were sticking into the abused flesh.

“Well, looks like I might not need this after all,” Toshi dangled the phone in front of your face before pocketing it once again. “Looks like you won’t be saying much of anything for a good long while.”

And then Yagi Toshinori left.

He turned on his heel and walked out as you toppled off the bed behind him, trying so hard to scream despite the pain and the ripping in your chest—whether they were curses or cries for him to stay, you weren’t sure.

But there was nothing either way.

So you sat and screamed in silent agony at his retreating form until the sound of a door slamming rang out through your home.

It seemed that in all your years of playing this game, you’d finally been toppled off your tightrope.

Because you were good at your job, so you knew. It was all about the exchange of power, and yours had just been thoroughly stripped away.

#all might x reader #yagi toshinori x reader #toshinori x reader #tw dubcon #tw noncon #tw blackmail #dark all might #dark yagi toshinori #mha smut #all might smut #mha x reader #mha fanfic #bee.writes

316 notes · View notes

todoscript · 3 years

Text

lilies & lilacs pt. i

SUMMARY: A dilemma with his grand charity gala brings Todoroki Shouto, CEO of Todoroki Enterprises, at your humble flower shop’s doorstep.

pairing: ceo!todoroki shouto x florist!reader

genre: eventual smut. fluff. slow burn. no quirks au.

word count: 5.6k+

warnings: none in this part, but expect sexual content in the future.

author’s note: this has been rotting in my wips for a couple of months now, but i finally decided to post it with the decision of progressing the story into parts. thank you to the lovely rosie aka @shoutogepi for initially betareading this and keeping the hype up for the fic in our chats together (love you <333)! feedback is welcomed and before you ask, im opening a taglist for the next 2 parts so just ask if you wish to be included

The uneasy padding of her boss’ dress shoes across the floor of his office made the secretary restless. She knew the bad news she delivered would cause some displeasure to stir within him, but never would she expect his tough bearings to falter, his troubles conveyed in hasty steps and frayed skin skewing those handsome features.

During the past two years she’s worked for him, she always thought his expression was nearly unreadable. When it came to his high position, her boss was forward and direct at conducting business—calm, stoic, and a perfect representation of efficiency and strong work ethic in his field. So while she witnessed the man’s uncharacteristic distress before her eyes, she wasn’t sure how this could end well for her.

Sweat began beading her forehead at the tension creeping between each tap of his feet against the hardwood below, coming to an unnerving halt behind his desk. When her eyes found his, all she could gather in those gray and turquoise clouds was annoyance toward their current predicament.

“What do you mean we don’t have a florist booked yet?” he repeated the dilemma she relayed to him merely moments ago. Hearing the agitation in his voice caused a nervous gulp to drop in her throat. She clutched her clipboard firmly in her arms to keep herself anchored in the wake of her boss’ growing frustration. However, she was still unsure how to continue as the words remained sealed in her mouth.

“Well?” Noticing his secretary’s lack of response, he pushed forward, hands leaning against the edge of his mahogany desk. The woman urged herself to endure the obstacles by first breathing through her nose before swallowing the lump in her throat, responding quickly.

“Um, Mr. Todoroki, sir, it seems all the florists on our list have all been booked for other events for the rest of the month,” she said, but mentally scolded herself when she heard herself sputter in such an unprofessional manner. Despite that, she prayed the explanation was enough to sate even a fraction of her boss’ inner turmoil.

Shouto approached her answer with silence before that foreseeable sigh left his lips, spilling with exasperation. He turned, his back facing the secretary, gaze lined to the windows gracing him with sunlight behind his desk. Stuck in contemplation, he pinched the bridge of his nose, mouth pursed in a firm line.

Where am I going to find a florist in time for this damn charity gala? He internally griped, closing his eyes as if that would help him uncover the solution to this untimely mess.

His esteemed company, Todoroki Enterprises, had arranged a plan to hold a widely anticipated charity gala by the end of this month. The event was conducted to raise funds for all manners of different charities that would vary in the level of grandeur on display. And given that the organizing for the event would be under his very name, Shouto had the critical responsibility of ensuring nothing but peak quality to those that would attend.

His staff had long procured the venue and were managing the layout of the gala. They sought out some suitable entertainment, booked catering, and scheduled for the charity auctions and raffles to take place throughout the night. What was still needed were the decorations, and right now that was where they hit their deadend with no florist currently reserved.

And here’s the real kicker: the gala was two weeks away.

Two. Weeks.

How he allowed for such errors to occur was beyond him at this point. All that really mattered was that he found a way to correct those mistakes and fast.

As much as Shouto figured he could skip past the flowers and substitute them with some other kind of flashy decorations, he already had a clear idea of how he wanted the gala to look. The floral arrangements would compliment the theme of the event exceedingly well. Turning back on the plan would be an insult to everyone’s prepared attire for the evening, with the dress code already sent out to all the distinguished guests invited to this grandiose ball. No doubt in his mind, he needed that florist, and needed them stat.

Sure on his resolution, he finally shifted to face his secretary. The anxious expression plastered on her face greeted him, and at that, Shouto bit his lip. His guilt surfaced for allowing his emotions to affect his workspace. He knew better than to take out his frivolous thoughts on his staff, who very well had no control over the situation. So he eased the atmosphere, attempting to lift the tension surrounding his office in the dreary gray of his temper.

“Nishiyama, I’m sorry for my behavior just now,” he apologized. The secretary, in turn, was taken aback, eyes widened. Her anxiety slowly whittled away as she scampered to return his kind gesture.

“Oh no, sir, it’s fine! I’m sure you were just feeling stressed hearing the news. I surely would be if I were in your shoes.”

“No, it’s not. I was acting childish despite how much you and everyone have done so far for the event,” Shouto said, “I should be thankful for your time, considering you also have a family to take care of at home.”

While the woman stared at him, abashed by his sincerity, Shouto swiveled his chair around to take a seat. A much-needed seat to be entirely honest. His secretary was not kidding about how the bad news seemed to harrow some stress in his body. But, being accustomed to having this weight pushed on his shoulders from the very moment he was announced the head of the company many years ago, he more than anticipated the stress to come with the job.

Shouto spared his secretary one last glance before his eyes darted down between the important papers sprawled on his desk. “If that’s all the news we needed to address today then you’re dismissed, Nishiyama. Carry on with the rest of the organizing as planned,” he ordered. Nishiyama lowered her clipboard to her hip.

“R-Right. Thank you, sir.” She parted his presence with a curt bow. Shouto picked up on her heels clicking toward his office door until they suddenly stopped altogether, looking back at the man midway. “What about the florist, sir?” she asked, concerned at the unresolved predicament lingering in the air. Her question wasn’t met with an immediate reply, but Shouto eventually gave her an answer he deemed adequate of a response. His words were coated with as much reassurance as he could muster in this situation.

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it myself.”

The task was easier said than done.

Usually, when it came to booking a florist for special occasions like this, you’d want to contact them months ahead of the scheduled date to ensure maximum efficiency and work out any problems that should arise. But there were only two weeks left until the awaited charity gala.

Shouto was certainly pushing his luck at this point and to a dangerous degree. If he didn’t find someone to arrange the flowers for the ball soon, the venue might be absent of all life and mood, essentially flopping from missing such a key element. Shouto could not allow for that to happen.

Given his word, he took it in his hands to rectify this mistake. For the entirety of the day, he sifted through the aforementioned list of florists his secretary had provided him—extended thanks to his team’s desperate search for more options.

All he had to do was narrow down the lineup. Unfortunately, those efforts may as well have been all for naught.

“Hello, is this Himawari’s Garden? I’d like to speak with the head florist there about arranging the flowers for a gala my company has been planning—”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but we’re currently busy preparing for a big wedding coming up next week. If you’d like, I can try and book our services for you toward the next month or so when we’ll be available?”

Shouto’s brows tightened during the exchange—a gesture he’d been repeating as of late while he dwindled the line of florists. If he kept it up, those wrinkles might be embedded into his skin permanently. He was at least grateful he managed to thwart the heavy breath of air that threatened to leave his lips and reveal his frustration to the woman on the phone.

“No, that’s fine. Thank you for your time.” With that, he hung up.

Shouto leaned back in his seat in exasperation, his weight pressed into the cushions as his eyes situated themselves toward the ceiling. The consistent taps of his fingers on his mahogany desk were all he heard amidst his deep contemplation. His eyes lidded shut in an attempt to seek a moment of refuge from the stress, but his conscience began eating at him.

Of course, what was he thinking? The beginnings of spring to late autumns were the mark of wedding season—the time where florists and other businesses specializing in decorative arrangements thrived and busied themselves with eager clients. Not only that, but it was also the month of June. The sixth month of the year was undoubtedly the most popular month among couples to hold their weddings, and he had witnessed this fact firsthand through his myriad of fruitless phone calls.

Shouto had thoroughly wrung through his rope and teetered on the edge of complete defeat. He sealed down his most recent loss at the hand of another busy floral business by striking a line across Himawari’s Garden on his list. At that, the total tallied to thirty whole flower shops. Thirty unsuccessful attempts.

That sigh he contained during the phone call found its way out of his throat in dramatic waves of displeasure

“You alright, sir?”

His administrative assistant, Midoriya Izuku, heard his huffs when he entered the threshold of Shouto’s office. He noted his boss’ hunched posture and the rare crease crinkled between his nose bridge, pressed against his hands that were clenched together above his desk.

“I’m guessing the new list of florists was also a no-go?”

Shouto didn’t offer any words, instead sliding said list—now fully crossed out—toward his assistant as his reply. Craning his head for a better look, Midoriya feigned a smile, not wanting to let the man’s defeat consume the mood entirely.

“Well... I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised… Wedding season is upon us after all.”

Oh yes, Midoriya. Shouto knew that very well. So much so that he sunk further into his desk at the reminder, head practically drooped with a gloomy rain cloud hovering atop him. The green-haired assistant fervently shook his head back-and-forth upon realizing his remark had thrown salt into his wound. “Oh, I-I mean... Don’t worry, sir! I’m sure we’ll still be able to sort out this problem in time before the gala!” he sputtered to help alleviate the despair that crept in, but it came to no avail according to his boss’ silent sulky demeanor. That was when Midoriya remembered the two cups of hot coffee held in each of his hands.

“Ah, right, I made you some coffee! I figured you could use one considering you’ve been cooped up in your office all day.” Setting one in front of him, Shouto perked up at the nutty aroma that slowly slipped into his senses. He eyed the fresh cup of coffee tentatively, the steam flitting above it in wisps.

Lifting the cup, the rich smell wafted further into his nostrils, imbuing him with that familiar peace he usually reveled in. On any ordinary day, he’d be accompanied by his classic roasted blend perched on his desk, with no problems threatening to disturb his peaceful routine. Not anything like today. Not anything like this dilemma of a desperate time crunch for a florist.

Perhaps that was what he needed. A filter of caffeine to wash away the ordeal like it was a bad morning plaguing him with baggy under-eyes and fatigue from a previous day of hard work. Though he’s sure not even caffeine could erase the headaches he developed throughout his day so far. If anything, indulgence would just make those headaches worse.

Nonetheless, he welcomed the smooth blend of flavors that ebbed down his throat through modest sips, rejuvenation quickly oozing in his veins. Headaches or not, the stimulation from the caffeine was essential if he wanted to combat the rest of the day with some drive.

“Thanks, Midoriya. I needed that,” Shouto acknowledged. He nodded at his assistant, who rubbed the back of his head modestly, saying how it was no problem at all, but the way his boss suddenly got up from his seat interrupted his words.

Shouto already felt the strong coffee going to work as his steps picked up in long strides around his desk that had the assistant’s brows knitting together, confused. “Where are you going, sir?” Midoriya asked, his voice sounding more distant to Shouto, who continued his way past him and toward the door.

“A quick drive,” was the blatant answer he gave. He downed the last of the cup before tossing it in the trash bin near the exit of his office. “Something to clear my head a bit. I’ll be back soon, but until then, keep reaching out to any businesses that could potentially be available to help us.”

“Yes, of course, sir! You can count on me!” Midoriya was prompt in replying. As expected, being Shouto’s right-hand man at the company.

With that, Shouto took to the parking lot below his building, twirling his keys over his index finger before hopping into his Mercedes and driving off.

The withering sunlight cast its glare over his car during his ride through the city. By now, the skies splayed vibrant red as the sun gandered above the horizon. He drove down the narrow and busy streets that kept the place bustling at these hours. It was likely the time when people finished up their workday and were eager to arrive home for much-needed rest.

During a particularly long wait at a red traffic light, he pondered over his predicament again. His thumb rapped against the steering wheel while he bit his bottom lip, that ugly feeling of regret seeping into his thoughts.

Maybe he placed too much faith in these flowers after all. Sure, he mentioned the vital role they played in aligning with the theme and complimenting the guests’ attires. But was it worth all the trouble he put his team through, searching through a throng of businesses already busy with their own events to organize? In a way, this could’ve been sorted out had he recognized the current times and planned accordingly to avoid the mess. But now they were trapped in this bind, crunching for anyone that could help them within only fourteen short days.

Just as he weighed the idea of calling Midoriya over the bluetooth in his car to drop the floral arrangements altogether, something caught his eye at the last second.

Shouto peered through his window, squinting at the corner, where he spotted a cart of flowers in front of a shop of some sort. His grip tightened around the leather of his steering wheel as he leaned in for a better look. Some kind of spark in him roused his anticipation the more he shifted forward in his seat, like the hope that was slowly fading inside was igniting once again.

Another inch further and he attained a better look of the shop. Its sign came into view just below the small boundary of his window—letters brushed in calligraphy on a long board of canvas with lilies painted on the edges that seamed together into a bouquet.

N… Neigh… Neighborhood Lily.

He deciphered the words, but didn’t give them much thought. All that enveloped his mind afterward was the fact the name wasn’t any of the list of thirty shops he phoned today. So the very moment the light overhead flickered to green, Shouto’s hold on the wheel tightened. His foot gradually stepped on the pedal with much more purpose.

He decided to take a brief detour from this casual little drive of his.

It was about six o’clock when you waved off your latest customer, who was leaving the shop with a basket of vibrant tulips swinging on their arm. The smile on their face was an adamant indication they were more than happy with their time here, something you always delighted in, being very passionate about your job as a florist.

“Thank you, and please come again!” The bell overhead gave a gracious chime at the customer’s departure.

With them gone, you drew your attention back to the flowers laid out on the small wooden table in the corner of the shop. Before the customer came in, you were at work arranging and crafting the blossoms you purchased from the flower market that morning into bouquets.

You’d be closing in about an hour and thirty minutes or so, but for now, you basked in the silence and the calming aroma of the flowers that surrounded you while you continued your work. A modest hum naturally sang past your lips and soothed its way into the shop that was devoid of all souls except yourself.

“Hm, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” You made some small talk with the rose in your hand. It was a habit of yours to spill a few words out within your own little world, imagining the flowers were keeping you company whenever you were alone.

“And there, now you all look even prettier.” An adoring smile embellished your lips as you finished off another bouquet by tying it with a silk ribbon. Looking over the bundle one more time, you thoroughly admired the shades of pinks and reds that complimented each other in the ensemble.

Then two more bouquets down, and you already made a good amount of progress. You figured that if you kept up the pace, you’d likely finish the rest of the batch and have them ready for display tomorrow. But just as you clasped three more flowers in your hand, the bell atop the door chimed, alerting you to a new patron.

You nicked off a thorn from one of the stems before turning around and giving your attention to the visitor. When your eyes found their way to the shop’s entrance, you were surprised to meet a man of slicked white and red hair. The few strands that found their way out of the gel must have been tussled from a long day of work considering the fatigue plain on his handsome face.

Despite the few wrinkles here and there, his attire was still surprisingly pristine. He wore a simple yet compelling suit, the fit seeming tailored to the contours of his body that rendered you a tad speechless at how good he looked just standing there. The sight almost made you feel underdressed.

You hadn’t realized you were staring for longer than you deemed appropriate. You couldn’t help it, being that the stranger was a stark contrast to the regular customers you were used to. The fanciest you’ve encountered since you opened your shop were the young boys that rushed in with nicely fitted tops and jeans, frantically inquiring about what kinds of flowers were right to give to a girl for a date they had later that day. Not anything like attractive businessmen in immaculate suits and shining silver wristwatches that surely cost more than all the flowers you tended here.

Noticing you were gawking, you blinked thrice to knock yourself out of your trance and properly greet the man.

“H-Hello, welcome to Neighborhood Lily,” you said, mustering the politest tone you could give to make up for the awkward moment of wordless eye contact. You must have kept your eyes on him for what felt like a good five minutes at least. The man, in turn, acknowledged you with a small grin, much to your relief.

“How may I help you this evening?”

“I’m…” he hesitated, seeming wary of how he wanted to go about his next choice of words, “just looking for now,” he decided.

Not paying much mind to his hesitation, you nodded. “Oh, well, if you have any questions or need any help on anything, please let me know. I’ll just be around the corner!”

Allowing him to go about his business, you returned to your table of flowers and oversaw the blossoms again. However, it was difficult for you to busy yourself with the task at hand. The mere thought of the other presence in the shop was enough to hammer you out of your concentration.

He was already a compelling figure on his own, what with his good-looks accompanied by his classy ensemble that felt more than out of place here. But what you were especially curious about was what business he had at a humble flower shop like yours during this hour.

That curiosity led your eyes straying to the side, where you peeped the man walking through the small aisle of flowers. He examined the bouquets and vases on display, even showing interest in the more decorative pieces hung in pots from the ceiling.

You tried to determine what his motives were. He was showing some considerable intrigue at your arrangements, though perhaps it was pure admiration for your work, and you were letting your self-consciousness get to you.

Well, spying would just get you nowhere, you thought. One way or another, he’d answer your curiosity by either coming to you directly or leave the shop altogether. You had to admit you hoped more for the former.

Until then, you tore your gaze away and resumed gathering flowers in your hands. You assessed their compatibility with one another while you fiddled around with their placement in the bouquet. The white lilies and the blue lilacs went very well, along with another set of light violet lilacs you couldn’t help but string into the bundle. As a result, the beautiful balance of cool tones made for an exceptional well-made bouquet. You finished the piece with a matching white satin ribbon and then let the arranged flowers thrive inside a glass vase.

“Those are very pretty.”

Startled at the voice, you whipped your head around, hands braced behind you against the edge of the wooden table. Your untimely lack of words were a result from realizing the owner of the voice was closer than you anticipated.

The businessman went from lingering around the aisle of flowers in the middle of the shop, to appearing in your proximity.

“E-Excuse me?” you asked, wondering if you heard correctly to which he pointed at the bouquets laid finished on the table. “In fact, all the flowers here are exceptionally beautiful.” He gestured to the entirety of the shop. His eyes quickly roamed across all the decorative flourishes before they came back to you.

“You do excellent work here in your shop.”

Words coming from a man like him made you bashful. You subconsciously played with the hem of your apron, eyes drifting to anywhere but his face at the compliment. However, the sliver of heat fluttering to your cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Oh, um, thank you. It’s nothing really, I’ve been arranging flowers for quite some time while at the last floristry I worked for so I have a fair amount of experience.”

After another second of fiddling with the fabric, your hands ended up falling to your sides. You sauntered toward one of the flower vases that were already set on display, dawdling around the conversation. His eyes followed you, watching you nurture the blossoms. “I opened this flower shop of mine just recently actually. Been getting a decent amount of business here and there, but I’m just glad that the people who’ve visited so far like my work,” you told him, twirling a strand of your hair. The pads of your other hand brushed against the soft, abundant petals of a yellow chrysanthemum.

The man observed your actions, analyzing your face. He distinguished the devotion hidden in your eyes as you looked upon the flower with a luster. Despite your humble character, it was more than clear to him you were very passionate about what you did, relishing in the ambiance and admiring the modest appearance of this little shop of yours, covered in the wonderful aroma of flowers.

You didn’t detect that deep breath of air he earnestly drew in as he stepped closer. So close that his proximity broke your stupor to meet his rigid expression.

“How would you feel about an… opportunity to let more of your work be known?”

“An opportunity?” you echoed. “Wait… do you maybe have a wed—”

“No,” he interjected, so abruptly that you couldn’t help but quirk a brow. Catching himself, he took a moment to clear his throat, mindful of his behavior. “I mean, it’s not a wedding. Rather, a charity gala that my company has been planning for some time.”

“A gala?” Your mouth worked faster than your mind, accidentally blurting out your thoughts. The astonishment was evident in your tone; it made the man question your reaction by leaning in.

“Yes, a gala,” he said again like you didn’t just hear his words from a foot away, without even realizing the lengths behind his baffling offer. “Is there something wrong about that?”

“N-No. It just wasn’t the kind of opportunity I expected it to be is all… A gala…” Your voice hushed around the utter of “gala”.

What the man presented so blatantly was unexpected to your ears. Galas meant a pompous party full of people decked in lavish attires, drinking quality champagne from tulip glasses. Sizing up the man again, you could only imagine this gala would only include the most important and wealthiest people in attendance.

You had to ask something, “Um, about this gala... How many people will be there?”

“Maybe about... five hundred or so? I’ll have to check in with my assistant to confirm the full count again.” He shrugged nonchalantly and yet on your end, hearing the number almost reduced your head to a dizzy mess.

Five hundred guests? It was a number you couldn’t fathom. You hadn’t even been booked for an occasion as ordinary as a baby shower, but this man wanted you to arrange flowers for his big charity gala?

As oddly enticing of a job it was to you, there had to be anyone else more experienced and capable for this.

“Sir, I’m not su—”

“The pay, of course, will be more than generous, and I’ll even provide you funding for any necessary materials for this project,” he chimed in before you could voice your protest. It was then that you began to distinguish something laced in his voice and exhibited on his face.

Desperation.

This man seemed desperate for some reason.

“May I ask when the event will take place?” Your arms crossed against your chest. A gulp formed in his throat at the question, unsure if he wanted to unveil the news or risk scaring you off. Either way, if you were working for him, you’d learn eventually. A sigh came out.

“Two weeks,” he answered.

Oh yeah, that explained it. It also answered any questions you had over the tension rigid in his shoulders. At this point, you were bound to join him in his stress because, goddamn, organizing a whole assembly of flowers for a grand ball within fourteen days? The idea was beyond daunting.

While you reflected on the intimidating pieces of information, he was gauging your reaction. Would you say yes? No? Laugh at the idea that he thought he could find a florist to work for him at such late notice? There were a slew of uncertainties twisting in his head—an act unbecoming of him, but you were his last hope. Whatever you responded with next would either be the nail in his coffin or the wings that made him soar.

You would be treading on uncharted waters at a chance like this, having never sailed anywhere beyond your little island of floristry where people came and went with your humble little arrangements. But you also thought of this as a daring opportunity to find new land. See what the world had in store for you outside of selling the general bouquets and vases you had on display. Plus, when would a chance like this ever come up again?

Though it meant encountering difficulties along the way, taking on such a big challenge right off the bat, you figured you’d be able to keep your boat afloat. You were also sure the journey toward bigger regions would be worth the struggle in the end.

“So do you have your answer?” he pressed forward when your silence became unbearable to his nerves. He thanked the fact that his voice managed to sound steady enough not to give himself away. Your arms remained crossed in front of you, your hand coming beneath your chin the only sign that you were taking his offer to heart. It kept the flickering flames of hope blazing inside him.

“I just want to ask you something,” you replied. He nodded, allowing you to continue.

“I know you’re under pressure with this gala coming up in only two weeks,” you began. Your arms unraveled, and your fingers ran to your apron again. You formed the next bit of words with uncertainty, “but are you sure I’m the right person for this job? I mean, I don’t have much to offer you in terms of skill other than what I have here.” You nudged at the range of your shop, plain as can be though with a generous amount of flourishes on display. Yet nothing you thought special enough to be graced by him and his grand proposal that evening.

“I just don’t want you to regret your decision.”

There was a pause of silence after that. The man seemed to give your words some thought—a quick reflection on the situation. You couldn’t decipher much in his face, but you happened to take some time to admire how pretty his eyes were. The individual blue and gray shades were mesmerizing to you, resembling glaciers glittering beneath the moon high in the north. Another detail you jotted in his long list of attractive features. Before you could marvel at them any further, he whisked your thoughts back to earth with his response.

“It’s true that I’m coming to you because I’m in need,” he admitted, hands slowly closing into fists like he was reluctant to confess this, “but from what I can see, I genuinely think you’re more than capable for this job. So yes, I’m very sure I won’t regret this decision.”

It was clear to you that he was sure on his stance. But to reinforce his statement, he bent his head low into a bow, weight added to his next words.

“Please be the florist for our gala.”

The gesture briefly overwhelmed you, not something you were expecting, but you managed to acknowledge it by returning the bow.

“I’ll be in your care then.”

With all things said, you were soon tidying up the exchange and trading business cards. Yours was a standard card with your number, name, and business attached with a picture of a lily printed across the paper. His, a premium slip of stainless steel engraved with his information and then some, the fancy card reflecting off the lights hanging from the ceiling. You read the name etched in ebony black over the gray material.

Todoroki Shouto — CEO

“You’ll likely receive a call from either one of my assistants or me within the next day or so about when to meet up to plan for the arrangements.” Shouto’s voice brought your head up from the card, where you watched him glide toward the door.

“R-Right, I’ll leave my cell on,” you stuttered. The fact that this whole exchange had just transpired was still kicking in for you.

Shouto nodded, extending a wave out that you mirrored while he opened the door to the shop, the bell chiming above him.

“I’ll see you then.”

After that, the resonating tinkles of the bell were the last you heard.

You stared at the entrance aimlessly, mouth gradually gaping open at the mere prospect that you were really about to arrange your flowers for a grand charity gala in two weeks!

A mixture of elation and jitters erupted in your body all at once, uncontained as you whipped your head around and strode across your shop in giddy steps. Your eyes lit up at the steel card gripped between your fingers, clenched so tightly like you were worried the card would turn to dust when you woke up from this dream. But at the wide smile that bloomed on your lips, you knew that this was reality. This man, Todoroki Shouto, was giving you the opportunity to have your true potential shown at this big gala.

Meanwhile, on his way back to his Mercedes, Shouto was clicking open his phone. The screen beamed at him in the low light of the evening turning to night while he punched a number from his contacts list. It took only the cusp of the second ring for the person on the other line to pick up his call.

“Midoriya, call off the search,” Shouto commanded into his phone. He rested his back on the door of his car, leaning against it with his phone still attached to his ear. His gaze found its way back to the flower shop he had just departed, eyeing the light emitting from the windows to the sign hanging above them. Grinning, he took in the sight of the flowers dancing in the wind around the shop’s vicinity before finding your silhouette standing in the benevolent light inside.

“We have our florist.”

#bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha imagine #todoroki shouto x reader #mha x reader #bnha fic #todoroki fic #todoroki imagine

615 notes · View notes

youryanderedaddy · 3 years

Text

Lady Luck (pt. 1)

I was so hyped to write this lol. Heavily inspired by Kaiji <3

Tw: mafia mention, unrealistic potrayal of mafia, mentions of threats, implied obssessive behavior (will get more hardcore in the second part tho), mentions of gambling, kidnapping /not reader/

You knew that you were a scum, a lowlife, a miserable loser without much hope in life - that’s exactly why you had no problem joining the deadliest underground paradise and following under the steps of the Lucciano family. They controlled everything - the casinos, the drugs, the guns, the whores, you name it - they provided it. And you had nothing - neither a past, nor a future. But everything changed when the oldest son Thomas decided to help you get out of the mud and step onto your legs - he gave you a home, a friend to return to, a shoulder to cry on when reality felt too painful and harsh, just too much to bear on your own. “Why would you do that for a stranger?” You had asked him once while tipsy, sitting by the hearth, a slight blush adorning your soft cheeks. “That’s easy.” The man had responded right away without giving it much thought. “You remind me of myself.”

You spent long nights thinking about his words but never came to a conclusion - he was born into a powerful, wealty family, so it made no sense for him to have experienced rock bottom the way you had. And his small black eyes displayed such a variety of terryfing emotions - bloodlust, greed, sin and so much sadness. Why would a monster ever feel scared, you wondered.

Working for the Luccianos wasn’t especially hard or even dangerous - you ran small errands for them, took care of the younger kids, helped with insignificant deals, acted as a croupier when their staff was sick or missing or had to be taken care of, but one thing you were thankful for was how they never tried to force you into doing something you would never be able to forgive yourself for. Thomas was kind to you - always so considerate, willing to listen, to understand how you felt even when the worlds you two lived in differed so greatly. He was supposed to be villain of the story, big and scary, demanding, taking whatever he wants without asking and never feeling an ounce of regret about it. And for a while, you were suspicous of the man’s every move - you were desperately waiting for the mobster to fuck up and show his true colours so you could let yourself hate him, despise him. And yet the sweet, sweet moment of revelation never came. You knew, of course, of the many evil deeds the criminal bestowed upon thousands of innocent people each and every day, but you never witnessed it with your own eyes and when the man was treating you like a part of his family, holding you close and giving you chance after chance to prove yourself, it was slowly getting impossible to view him as the bad guy. Perhaps you should have waited just a little longer.

It happened during a warm, spring day. You didn’t expect it, you couldn’t. You had just finished your shift at midnight in the small shop you worked in, which belonged to Thomas’ mother, and were heading to the Lucciano mansion. It had been a particularly long and exhausting day, so you wanted nothing more than to feel the soft, silky, white sheets down your half-naked body while the quiet classical music took you to dream land and back. But upon opening the heavy wooden door, you quickly noticed something was different - there was no music, the big black TV in the middle of the hall was set to camera mode instead of the normal one, and it was awfully quiet. “They must have had to leave the country for a while.” You rationalised. “It has happened before after all.” You kept reassuring yourself while taking a tiny step towards the centre of the room where light was the strongest - it could uncover every hidden little detail.

And then the TV was turned on. You shifted your gaze up, paranoia eating at you from inside out. Soon there was clear image on the massive screen, but what you saw left you speechless. There were hours of footage from your personal life - working, hanging out with friends, eating, bathing. What made the shivers down your spine run cold was a scene where a guy, your boyfriend, was kissing you, touching you, undressing you with his praying eyes. It was nothing unusual for a young woman to have a love life, but this broke the only rule Thomas had told you upon entering the house - you were forbidden from having close relationships with men, especially dangerous ones, and for the longest time, you had no issue living by that as long as you came back to the luxury and warmth the mobster provided for you. Until you met him - a charming, clever member of a local gang. You knew it was wrong and could cost you more than you were willing to sacrifice and yet you still gave in. It was your first time experiencing the highs and lows of love, so who could blame you when it was such a magical feeling, a mixture of adrenaline and opium. Alex made you feel like a real human being instead of someone just existing, leeching off the stronger, wealthier species.

There was a shadow moving out from the corner, playing into your delusions. But soon enough you realised it was all a reality as none other than Thomas walked slowly towards you, clapping his hands dramatically, a sly smirk on his beautiful, scarred face. Did he...

"Congratulations." The man started off, dark eyes set on you, slowly coming closer and closer like a big black hole, ready to swallow you whole. "You went and got yourself a little boy - toy." The criminal chuckled viciously under his breath, making you cringe at the crude nickname he used. The situation felt surreal and yet the fear and panic were already suffocating you, making you dizzy wish regret. "I wish you would have told me though... I never thought someone I hold so important would lie to me." The mobster kept rambling, waving his arms in the air theatrically, while holding a lit cigarette, but never moving it to his lips - it was just a prop, a way to create a thick smoke mist in your eyes. It was finally the hour of judgement.

"What do you want?" You asked, faking confidence, desperate to take control of what was happening. It was a bizarre thing to see your dearest friend act in such a eerie, frightening way, almost treating you like one of his victims - nothing more than an indebted bastard or an unfortunate bystander, unlucky enough to catch a deal unfolding right behind the scenes. It hurt but you had forced this upon yourself and you had to fix it.

"Nothing much, really." Thomas replied, finally inhaling the deadly smoke into his open mouth. He played with his collar for a while, as if you weren't standing there, scared for your life. "I just want to teach you a lesson in obedience, doll." The mafioso continued, circling you slowly, his heavy gaze never leaving your body. You felt awfully exposed even when all your clothes were present, covering every inch of your skin. With a swift snap of his fingers, the man summoned most of the gorillas that worked under him. Two of them were dragging your kicking, screaming boyfriend towards the centre of the room, but a quick punch in the guts managed to quiet him down. He looked terrified, his face bloody and injured, covered in dust and misery. But he was still alive and only that mattered to you.

"I wanted to make this entertaining for all of us." The oldest Lucciano spoke out, his husky voice echoing trough the golden ceiling. He moved over to your lover and harshly pressed the cigarette butt against the exposed skin of his unprotected arm. The man cried out in pain, silently pleading you to help with his big, terrified eyes. And here you were, as helpess as he was - if not even more. "So I decided to initiate a little gamble of sorts, ya know?" Thomas winked at you, smiling with malice. You couldn't help, but recall all the times you two had played poker together, betting less than pocket change. You never understood why the man always got so excited despite winning such small sums, especially when his casinos already did well. But now you could see it clearly - he got off crushing his opponent, taking the victory under their noses. Money meant nothing. As long as he was able to ruin your mood, your life, the man was pleased.

Soft white light lit up the furthest corners of the hall and you saw dozen square boxes, arranged in a circle. It looked harmless enough on its own, still they were stamped with Thomas’ symbol - a dove. You used to wonder why someone in the most dangerous depts of mafia would choose such an innocent, sweet signature pf representation and now the answer was right in front of you - that way it was easier to trick the enemy into thinking they were safe. And how wrong were they.

“As you can see, there are nine wooden boxes in total. They look exactly the same and on top of each one there is a hole.” Thomas stopped to point at them, the raw anticipation flooding his otherwise dull pupils. “Six of the boxes are empty. In the other three though, there are placed some of the most poisonous snakes in the world. One bite and you are dead.” The madman gave a loud, breathy laugh while your boyfriend squirmed uncomfortably in place, restrained by the strong arms, holding him down. “Both of you will take four turns putting your hand in the boxes. After every round the box would be closed off and you would be able to choose only from the remaining ones. ” The mobster grinned widely, looking at your horrified expression. You couldn’t believe that the man was willing to put your lives on the line simply because you had neglected one of his orders. “Now you may be wondering where the suspence is - after all you would probaby manage to hear the hissing from afar and avoid the place it comes from. Rest assured, my foolish little friends. Right now the snakes are heavily intoxicated and absolutely silent - which doesn’t mean, of course, that they won’t attack any soft flesh they see. If you die, that’s on you, but if you survive, you will be rewarded.” Thomas clapped his hands together and his man let go of your lover, resulting in his falling to the ground with a heavy bang. Thomas pursed his lips together.

“Shall we get started?”

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere mafia #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere gambling #yancore

156 notes · View notes

dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

Text

Teddy Bear Anon has purposed yet another interesting addition to the Immune AU which gives me plot ideas! In particular, a scene that would really help give past Dream a strong push into his character arc.

I like to image that immune!Dream’s character arc starts with the death of immune!Puffy. Sure, maybe he’s not sad yet, but he feels something for the woman who declared herself his pseudo mother. It’s what helps to crack the shell enough for the rest of the immune gang to start weedling their way into his heart. Immune!Dream after spending enough time watching the group he, starts to realize that yeah, connections to other people isn’t a weakness. It really is a strength. It’s something that takes time for him to come to terms with because Techno seems like a testament to the fact connections are a weakness. He was unbeatable until his horse got kidnapped. His only connection, his only weakness. But then there’s Tommy who seems to represent the complete opposite.

Where Dream represents strength from caring too little, Tommy represents strength from caring far too much. Now I’m a sucker for bamf Tommy, and I like to personally imagine that maybe the Immunes hold out for a year or two before they cave and try to make the portal. So Tommy has what really boils down to a two year training arc on top of already being a child veteran (I like to canonize SMP Earth as well because personal preference and it gives me even more room to make Tommy suffer. SMP Earth being canon? God, so much fucking trauma considering how the others treated him, a 15 year old child, like an adult.) Anyway Dream slowly realizes connections with one another are what kept the remaining Immunes alive, and he tries to force his younger self to understand that. Tries, but doesn’t really get far. Up until what everyone else calls The Fight.

Tommy’s always just kind of screwed around in fights as long as there’s only a threat to him. We know he has a tendency to throw if MCC is any indicator. But then they time travel and maybe they spend some time in the past trying to get the situation sorted and the past’s Dream maybe just kinda does something to Tubbo. Doesn’t even have to be big, it just needs to clock as a threat to Immune!Tommy who’s already lost his Tubbo and refuses to let his younger self go through that. So Tommy goes completely ape shit on the younger Dream. Sure, it’s only been two years for this Tommy. He’s probably, like, 18 or 19 at most. Still a child as far as a lot of people are concerned. He shouldn’t be stronger than Dream or Technoblade, and in the few cross group sparing sessions they’ve had he isn’t. He’s stronger than his younger self but no where near these two demi gods of combat. But then Dream suddenly registers as a threat to Tubbo in Immune!Tommy’s eyes and he makes the mistake of mocking Tommy while he’s at it. He knows that immune!Tommy lost his Tubbo and maybe the past Dream is lashing out slightly or trying to get some kind of foothold in Tommy’s psyche. He isn’t doing anything near what immune!Dream has done, but it’s enough to piss Tommy off. So immune!Tommy challenges Dream to a fight and Dream immediately realizes the mistake he’s made when Tommy starts to destroy him.

Say even Techno’s there for some reason or another and he realizes what’s going down so he tries to calm Tommy down, joining the fight just as Dream is loosing it. The situation quickly turns into the first time Techno’s ever gotten his ass thoroughly kicked by Tommy, leaving everyone spectating baffled (Tommy’s younger self partly included). They’re certain this kid is going on some rampage and none of them can stop him but the moment Dream and Techno are both taken care of (wounded, not killed, the older Tommy is always careful about that. He even throws a splash healing on them with some indifferent kind of disgust that hides the fact he does still care to some extent even hurting as he is.) Tommy immediately just switches focus to outright doting on Tubbo, ignoring any muttered Clingyinnits in favor of ensuring Tubbo is fine. Tubbo is completely find and just as confused, but the point stands and neither Tommy ends up leaving Tubbo’s side for the rest of the day. The younger Tommy, after all, is the only one the older Tommy’s told the full story to regarding the future (even when he couldn’t trust his own family he was always able to trust himself with the secrets that mattered, so he prepares his younger self in case the worst comes to pass.)

The older Dream, immune!Dream, he doesn’t get involved. He sit on the side lines and just kinda laughs, the sound drowned out by Sapnap’s loud encouragements and Sam’s half hearted attempts to get Tommy to stop (he could have stopped Tommy immediately if he’d stepped in. Sam is after all the only person on earth Tommy listens to without hesitation, but Sam lets it happen and pretends he tried.)

Immune!Dream just kinda smirks at his younger self later that night and mentions something about attachments really making you weak. After all, it’s not like the only time Tommy takes a battle seriously is when someone he cares about is in danger. It’s not like Tommy would turn the world into a seared ball for Tubbo, and Tubbo would do the same in return. It’s not like they’ve watched the people they care about temporarily rebuke the Crimson just to give the Immunes those precious extra seconds needed to survive in a fight. Attachments, they’re just a weakness.

The younger Dream doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s the first time he thinks about his older self maybe being right.

Before I go I wanna leave you with two more ideas for the Immune AU

First up, Wilbur is eight years older than Tommy give or take. Wilbur had Fundy when he was around 16 and Tommy was around 8. Tommy was the best damn uncle he could be and for a while Tommy and Fundy were really stupidly close. They were both apart of the raised by Wilbur club and Wilbur was trying his damn best. Fundy aged/matured (physically and mentally) faster than a regular person for a while. They believed it was because he was a fox hybrid and Wilbur was ready to lose Fundy too soon. When Fundy was equivalent to 18 in human years though his aging process suddenly slowed to a crawl and his tail split into two, at which point the group realized he was actually a kitsune and it was just those first 8 years that passed by quickly (and Wilbur had a lot of questions for the now missing Sally who he’d thought was a salmon hybrid, genuinely, but became exceedingly less sure.) His family knows he’s a kitsune, but Fundy hid it from most of the rest of the server. A good thing considering later events.

Fundy was part of the Immune group for a while and I like to imagine that he and Tommy had a falling out during the Pogtopia era but after the egg started to take over they started bonding again and acting like, well, family. Unfortunately when it came time for them to activate the portal, Fundy ended up getting separated from the group and getting caught. The eggpire didn’t actually know Fundy was fully immune or a kitsune so he just kinda pretended to get infected, using his illusions to make his fur look crimson. I personally like the idea that Fundy at some point managed to get back to the time machine and being a little code wizard manages to get the thing working and yeets himself in. He shows up a little late but after fixing his appearance manages to catch up with the rest of the group.

Fundy is underrated. Tommy being a good uncle is underrated. Sam would absolutely adopt the traumatized fox baby in Eret’s honor. What’s not to love?

The last concept I wanna bring up that I really like is hybrid Tommy. Tanuki would be good since it’s another reason for the Sam Nook bit. Maybe Sam specifically picked Sam Nook since Tom Nook was Tommy’s favorite character on the grounds he was the only representation Tommy had ever gotten and it made the kiddo happy. However, I also personally really like phoenix Tommy and it would make an interesting plot point. Tommy accidentally losing his third life at some point and realizing he’s an immortal creature of fire would have led to him taking a protector role for his new family. He can’t die, but he can burn anything around him, why not send him out to get supplies when the worst the eggpire could do would be capture him. Even then he just literally cannot hear the egg. Which could lead to both some interesting comedic moments and some really good angst if Sam agonizes over his desire to protect Tommy and let him be a child suddenly being at odds with the fact Tommy is literally the best person for the job so to speak. Not to mention Sapnap, who I headcanon as a Blaze hybrid, would be even more attached the moment he found a new fire proof friend to burn forests with him. Regardless of which hybrid type he is, I could see him hiding it from everyone except for Fundy when he was a child and only ever admitting it later to the other Immunes once they become a found family.

Personally I like the idea of Tommy being part tanuki hybrid and part phoenix hybrid, but is that too mary sue? Is it just a little bit too cheesy to have him be both? I will never not try to incorporate phoenix Tommy into my fics but also tanuki Tommy would be such a mood for this au.

Like image Tommy just builds a den that’s in reality a vault/panic room a la Techno and he hides it under Church Prime since that is The Safe Spot in Tommy’s mind.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

116 notes · View notes

ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

Text

What I Thought About "Eda's Requiem" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

...

...HOW IS SEASON TWO SO GOOD?! WE'VE HAD SEVEN EPISODES SO FAR, AND EACH ONE OF THEM WAS A HIT!

Take "Eda's Requiem," for example. It's yet another episode where I have NOTHING bad to say about it! That's two weeks in a row where that happened! HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?!

HOW!

...But anyways, "Eda's Requiem." It's another fantastic episode, and I'm about to dive into explaining how and why. Just keep in mind, it's gonna require spoilers to do so, so be wary of that as you keep reading.

Now, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Eda’s Checklist and Grom Photo: Within the first second, "Eda's Requiem" perfectly sets up Eda's central conflict in the episode. Despite spending years being on her own and looking after herself, she now has two kids that she's constantly caring over. Eda can try all she wants to say that she doesn't care, and I bet she has in the past. But given the hard work she's putting into getting King and Luz what they need and having a grom photo of the three of them together pinned in her mirror, it's pretty clear that those two knuckleheads wormed their way into her heart and are never getting out.

Eda’s Worried About King and Luz Leaving: And thus, that's precisely why something like this bothers her so much. Eda inadvertently adopted two rambunctious rapscallions (Yeah, I know. I'll get to it), so the idea of them not being around her anymore is going to be terrifying. That is a situation most parents, especially mothers, can identify with. It’s called empty nest syndrome and it proves just how much Eda loves Luz and King that she can't stand the thought of her babies leaving the nest. It's yet another well-made, wholesome, found-family moment that this series continues to excel at each week, making me extra excited for more like it to come...while also readying myself for heartbreak when one of them eventually does leave Eda.

Eda and Raine’s Music: Ok, I don't know the exact instruments that were played during this episode, but I also don't care because it was all (for lack of a better term) music to my ears. Every time Eda and Raine played resulted in melodies that are so beautiful and filled with so much emotion and feeling that I'm honestly tempted to listen to them again, multiple times, on repeat. Shows rarely do that for me, as background music doesn't always draw me in as much as lyrical songs do. Usually, it takes something so extraordinarily composed to give me the desire to listen again, and that's the case here. So huge congrats to Brad Breek for doing so. Seriously, the man's been killing it this season.

Eda’s Bard Magic Causing Things to Turn to Ash: This was assuredly a surprise side-effect of the curse. The fact that Eda can sort of do magic at all was its own shock. To then reveal that a specific type can do dangerous things to people and environments is...Well, it definitely brings up its own fair share of questions. Like, how can she do this? Will she do it again, one day? And are there other types of spells that can be negatively affected by Eda's curse? We don't get answers for any of these questions, and odds are, we never will. But that's alright with me. Because if a show makes me consider these many possibilities after a brief amount of time, it is a show that has to be doing something right. Even if I don't get the answers I want, the fact that it caused such a reaction makes me less willing to care.

Raine Whispers: Hey, would you look at that. Another fun, interesting, and compelling character added to the list of this shows' other fun, interesting, and compelling characters...how is this series so good at this!?

Joking aside, Raine's pretty good. I like Raine. They could have been this super serious leader who lost all their fun after years apart from Eda, but I'm glad that they're not. There are moments when Raine takes their job as leader of the BATs seriously, as one would, but I still prefer the fact that they kept a jovial nature despite how grim their situation is. It's an admirable trait to have, and it avoids the trope of making leader characters boring just because they're the ones who have to take things seriously.

Oh, and also, Raine's Disney's first non-binary character who has a stake in the plot. This is a tremendous deal, as you don't usually see that many non-binary characters in children's animation, let alone ones that hold importance to the story. So it's pretty cool for the writers to feature Raine, as it helps several kids feel as though they're finally seen and respected. And the fact that Disney of all companies gave the thumbs up is even more impressive. I hear people say that Dana Terrace should have pitched The Owl House to more progressive networks to avoid pushback, and while I absolutely see your point, I'll have to respectfully disagree. Disney is the largest entertainment industry of all time, so if you want to make LGBTQA+ representation normalized, you gotta stop making splashes and start making waves. Because if the same company that made three racist cats in the span of a few years manages to say that being gay is a-ok, then you know there's something wrong with you. Yes, Disney ended up screwing over the show anyway. But for that one moment, when kids felt pride after seeing a character like Raine, then, in the end, it's kind of worth it.

Also, if you're still having issues with more representation like this popping up in kids' shows, then allow me to redirect you to the complaint department.

...I made that post earlier today for this bit. YOU HAVE BETTER APPRECIATED IT!

Day of Unity is meant to be a Secret: At least, that's what I got when Raine stumbled over their own words. So if it's true, then I wonder why? Why does Belos want to keep the most critical change in the Boiling Isles a secret? Does he want to make it a surprise for his grateful subjects, or does he not want to spread worry and fear amongst the wild witches? It has to be something big if he doesn't want his followers to even say the words "Day of Unity." Whatever reason he has, we most likely won't know until the future. A future that I grow more and more afraid of each week.

Hooty Eating Echo Mouse: My heart sank in that brief moment when I thought that Hooty intensely screwed Luz over in getting back home. But looking back...it is pretty funny.

Just the suddenness of Hooty eating the poor creature that Luz desperately tried to earn its trust is priceless in how shocking it was. And also, Luz's expression.

That was the look of a young girl who immediately shoved her hand down an owl demon's throat the second the scene cut away. The Owl House may not always be a hit in the comedy department, but scenes like this prove that when it's funny, it is hilarious.

Luz and King Entering the Grand Prix: Not much to discuss here. It's just a cute subplot that adds frivolity to the intensity of what's going on through Eda and Raine's story. But I will say that I love how both stories occasionally interconnect with each other through the many moments of Eda being worried about King wanting to leave to find his father and avoiding any conversation about it. It helps both plotlines feel like they belong together, without being something like "Through the Looking Glass Ruins," whereas both stories could have been in their own episode. Which is neat.

How Bard Magic Works: I really love how this season is diving into how the other magic types work. More specifically, the ones that seem a little vague. I mean, stuff like healing, potions, and plants are easy to figure out, but what does it mean when a witch's talents are construction, beast keeping, and bard magic? We've been getting a lot of clearing up lately, with bard magic looking like a witch can control their environments and enemies through the power of music. Which is fair. Music is pretty powerful in the metaphorical sense, and I actually love that it's powerful in the literal sense when in the Boiling Isles.

The BATs: Not much to comment on these three either. The BATs have the potential to have an entertaining dynamic, but they do very little in this episode that I can't say much other than I hope they make a return in the future. But I will make this claim: Amber is my favorite. I'm sorry, but her screaming "You're not our mom!" to then go, "Bye, mommy Eda" is just too precious for me not to love.

I'm a simple man who falls for cute s**t. Leave me alone.

Raeda (RainexEda): Well, EdaxCamila, you were a fun crack ship while it lasted, but I'm afraid that this is now goodbye. The current canon has provided an incredibly adorable and believable relationship that I would be a monster not to support with my whole bi-heart. It's been real.

Ok, back in serious mode: I love these two together. Eda and Raine are grown-ups, and they still act all flustered near each other as if they were still Luz and Amity's age. It's definitive proof that you're never too old to get flustered near a crush, and seeing them interact adds a sense of wholesomeness when seeing them together as well as heartbreak when they're forced apart. Plus, we get confirmation that Eda's LGBTQA+! Whether she's bi, pan, or whatever, now that we know Eda can catch feelings for someone like Raine, it's yet another case that The Owl House is the most important series to the community. Because having the main character be queer is fantastic in its own right. But having the same apply to the motherly mentor figure? That's is an extra bit of normalization that anybody would be willing to appreciate.

Unique Guard Designs: Not many fans are going to appreciate this, primarily compared to everything else this episode does perfectly. For me, I actually like that you see a few Coven Guards looking differently from the others, as it helps make them less like clones and makes it seem like anybody of any body type could be a part of the coven.

Gus Looking Uninterested when Presenting Grand Prix with his Dad: I am positive that you didn't notice this (I didn't even notice it until someone else pointed it out), but there's something to dissect here. It hints that perhaps Gus isn't as interested in his father's field of work as one might think. If he did, he would look a lot less bored and much more excited to be helping Perry Porter present the race. It could just be the race itself, but judging from Gus' expression, it really seems like the kid would prefer to be anywhere but there. And why would he have that reaction to a race that his best friend is competing in? To me, this seems like an inkling of what Gus' relationship with Perry could be, which may not actually get time to shine, what with how little wiggle room the series has now (Thanks Disney). Regardless, it is interesting to notice, and it will certainly have fans thinking for a while.

Bump Being Smug of Luz Being in the Lead: That's it. Principal Bump looking smug as his human student is beating the students of his rivals is yet another moment that proves why Bump is easily the best cartoon principal.

Darius: First of all, this guy is f**king fabulous, and I love him. *Snaps*

Second, he is definitive proof that you do NOT want to f**k around with Coven Leaders. Lilith may have had her intimidating moments, but none of them compare to the guy who can turn himself into an abomination monster where only magic that hasn't existed before can take him down. It's genuinely scary to see Darius lose control, and I fear for the day when Luz inevitably ends up in his crosshairs.

With that said, Darius' still a ton of fun! He may be threatening, but he's just a flamboyant guy that hates the idea of getting his outfit the tiniest bit dirty. And I love that. I love that these Coven Heads have actual personalities instead of being generically evil. I consider it preferable to make villains entertaining rather than blatantly scary as I'll remember the personalities first and the villainous acts last.

Eberwolf: But this one's my favorite. I told you: I'm a simple man who gets easily swayed by cute s**t. And Eber? I mean, just look at her:

She's just a cute widdle rascal! I just want to pinch her cheeks, give her a belly rub, and--

...Eberwolf is not a cute widdle rascal. She is a strong, independent woman, and I will respect her as such from this moment forward...lest I feel her wrath.

That is all. Let's move on.

Eda and Raine Attempting a Final Performance: This was the best scene of the episode. It looked gorgeous, it shows the dedication Eda and Raine have for stopping Belos, and it says so much through so little. Go back and look at how Eda and Raine regard one another when performing Eda's requiem. Through their expressions and a few short words, you know they understand that if they complete the song/spell, they probably won't make it in the end. And yet, they don't care. They both know bad stuff will happen if Belos wins, so Eda and Raine put everything to the side, both their feelings for one another and the people they leave behind if it means putting an end to a tyrant. That level of dedication...Words can't fully describe how powerful that is.

Raine Sacrificing Themselves Instead: But in the end, Raine can't do it. Not when they know the life that Eda has and the people she'll be leaving behind. It's an extra bit of nobleness to the character seeing that Raine refuses to take away a woman from two kids who need her the most. A tad bit selfish, sure, knowing what Belos has planned. But when it comes to love, the romantic, familial, or platonic, the best decisions aren't always the logical ones.

Eda Crying: Luz crying tears me up, but seeing Eda cry is a whole different level of heartbreak. Like Lilith, Eda has her emotions locked up tight, with the closest she came to weeping were those two tears in "Young Blood, Old Souls." In "Eda's Requiem," she cries but almost quickly stops herself. As if she knows that doing so isn't going to save Raine. That is...even worse than seeing Luz break down after losing Eda. The fact that Eda refuses to give herself time to mourn losing someone she loved is tragic because crying is the most natural way of showing grief. Turning that off isn't healthy, and seeing her do it with little resistance is sad to me. It's sad to see a character I love can easily shut off all emotions despite how badly she may want to embrace them. It's one of those moments that, again, by doing so little, it shows so much.

“No one watches Crystal Balls anymore. It’s all about streaming.”: Oof. Even I felt that burn towards cable.

King’s Message: King's message was the pick-me-up I needed after the heart-wrenching sadness this episode put me through a few minutes ago. Seeing King say who he is and listing all the things he loves is nothing short of adorable. On top of that, I adore that Eda willingly recorded the whole thing. She may not want King to leave, but that doesn't mean she'll sabotage the one thing he wants. Especially not after Raine gave up everything so Eda could be with her kids. The opening scene may prove how much Eda cares about a rascal like King, but this heartwarmingly sweet moment reveals just how far she'll go to make him happy.

King’s Dad Reveal: ...ok, I'll be honest, I did not think we'd get that reveal this soon. Dumb of me to say, considering the number of times I've said that these writers don't waste time getting to the s**t, I know. But still, it's pretty cool knowing that King's dad is alive and well, added with the fact that we've got a fair idea of what he looks like. At this point, it's only a matter of time before we see him figure out where the Clawthorne residence is and witness the tear-jerking moments that will follow.

King Changing his Name to King Clawthorne: Not the official adoption I was expecting Eda to make...but DANG IT, is it still diabetes-inducing levels of sweetness!

Personally, I feel like the main reason why Eda breaks down this time is not only because she shouldn't be worried about King leaving her life, but also because Raine's sacrifice wasn't in vain. Her kids really do need Eda because no matter how far apart they'll be, she will always be a part of their life...dang it, I'm going to cry too!

What those Coven patches really do: Well...that was horrifying to see.

...Writers, if you kill off the best non-binary character in animation (it's a short list, I know), we are going to have PROBLEMS!

IN CONCLUSION

"Eda's Requiem" is--surprise surprise--another A+. The emotions hit hard, the representation hits harder, Raine is a fantastic addition to the cast, and it was all surprisingly cute at times. Season Two is currently on a hot streak, constantly winning with every episode that's come out so far. When a bad episode does eventually show up (IT'S GONNA HAPPEN!), I'll be sure to sing my requiem then. For now, I'm just gonna enjoy the ride.

#the owl house #the owl house season 2 #the owl house reviews #eda clawthorne #raine whispers #raeda #king of demons #toh darius #toh eberwolf #what i thought about

28 notes · View notes

amiramorozova · 3 years

Text

Dual Summoner and the Darkling pt. 27

Darkling's pov:

The day of the winter Fete I'd returned early to make sure Amira was ready. Walking down the hall I saw her looking out the window in her usual Kefta being curious about what was outside. I knew she hadn't gotten out much with my mother keeping her constantly training and the only time she had freedom was during the week I'd taken her to the north to see what the first army was like.

"Does it amuse you?" I asked her, she looked at me for a second, surprised to see me before she looked back out the window. "Can we go out there?" Amira asked

"Out to the circus the Queen has hired? People might recognize you." I said knowing the Dual summoner had gotten around to people but her identity of being such to the people had been kept out of range except her name.

"Please Aleksander. I am tired of being locked up in the little palace and I loved being outside the little palace feeling free." Amira begged

I walked over to Amira, taking her hand bringing it up to where I could kiss the top of it as my eyes never left hers. Her yearning for the outdoors of this place is evident on her face from being denied out of here. Debating what was the best course of action to take with her before I decided to give in to her wishes. Leading her down a path I had a cloak and put it over her shoulders to conceal her Kefta then placed my arm around her as I led her around.

Watching her curiosity of what this circus the Queen had come here was enough to make her happy. For a few moments as we walked and I let her enjoy her time to take part in what was going on it felt different. Being with her always felt different than when I had one of the 2nd army around. It felt almost like we were not generals and soldiers or 2nd army Grisha but normal people. I knew better than to let that thought linger she and I would always be Grisha and eternal but the fact she was so sheltered here was noticeable. Noticing people staring at us I kissed her and she responded which helped us blend in even more.

We walked for a bit afterwards as the circus had a performance to represent her defeating Volcra. I couldn't tell at first if she was scared of the idea or she was upset with the representation but like most people were looking at her for the sun. Leading her away I saw she started to cry and wiped her eyes. "Don't cry, it's not worth your tears." I told her

That night at the Fete I greeted the royals as usual before I walked around. Most of the Grisha were doing their performances when I sensed her before I saw her. She was leaning against the wall, her black silk Kefta perfectly framing her and to know she was going to be my wife someday was the best feeling.

"Ah there you are." I said as she seemed statledosing her concentration. "You are breathtaking, Amira."

"Thank you." She said with a curtsy

When the music started playing I offered my hand to her "Would you like to dance?" I asked as she put her hand in mine. I was glad that she was very comfortable with me as we danced but I knew that I had plans for tonight. Keeping hold of her hand I was able to slip the ring off of her without her noticing as I was going to ask her officially but I got her over to the stage and we did our performance. As I slapped my hands together to make it dark then turned to her as she did her part of the performance I knew she was only doing half of her power as she looked at me once it was done. Offering my hand to her I knew exactly what to do as I kneeled down in front of her seeing her surprised.

"Amira Silina, Dual Summoner, will you marry me?" I asked her

I could see she was in surprise being this was in front of everyone at the Fete but she could say no or she could say yes.

"Yes, General Kirigan." Amira said

I slipped the ring back where it belonged on her hand as I led her through the crowd but many people wanted to talk with her. I amused the nobles for a bit to talk to our Dual Summoner as they gave her regards for the engagement and then they were talking of high hopes for destroying the fold. If they called her a sun summoner I would mention that she was not just that but a Dual Summoner accepting all of her was vital. Soon though I noticed she wanted away from the others so I used my powers to conceal us and got both of us to the war room.

"I don't remember this on the schedule." Amira jokes

"I figured you wanted away from everyone." I said

Hearing her laugh a bit seeing her happy to be alone was great but she caught me off guard as she pulled me to her kissing me. I kissed her back, my arms wrapping around her securely. I lifted her up on my war table as we continued to kiss. I'd been with others over 400 years but something about her always felt different than the others. Things had been going slow and it felt like this might be our next step in our relationship so I pulled away from her for a second.

"Are you sure?" Aleksander asked

"Yes, I am." I said

I claimed her lips again in a kiss before we started to make out again, things getting very personal as her arms went around my neck. We had to stop when there was a knock on the door. I could see she wasn't happy about it but also she smiled at me as I kissed her once more before heading over to the door seeing Ivan.

"What?" I asked

"The Tidemaker was attacked in the room. Amira was the target." Ivan said, "We have the suspect in custody and there is word on the stag."

"I'll be right there." I said

I walked over to her and put a hand on her cheek seeing that she looked worried. I realized if she'd been going into a dressing room how much she could have been hurt. Her father would probably kill me or try to if she'd been hurt or worse killed.

"Is everything alright?" Amira asked

"Wait here guards will be outside the room. Don't leave." I said assuring her, "I need you safe."

She put her hand over mine as she looked at me "I'll be waiting and Aleksander I think you're right. Let's get married after the stag is found." Amira said

The idea of having her walk down that aisle with the intention to marry me was an idea that I liked. I knew already about the soulmates and how I'd seen her initials on my wrist. I removed my hand as I started to walk away before coming back and kissing her as she smiled then I left. I couldn't have been gone more than ten minutes when I came back and she was not there anymore.

mother. I thought

I heard the tracker found the stag but refused to come and give its location that he was wounded. I ran out to look around the grounds for her when I heard the commotion and I saw the carriage going. Her standing there on it's edge looking and holding on.

"AMIRA!" I yelled

I saw her get pulled into the carriage not knowing if she was taken hostage or if she left on her own but that was enough. I put the order out to find her no matter what and that I wanted the tracker to be sent to a healer so he could tell me where the Stag was.

"Shame isn't it?" Baghra said from behind me

"You did this." I said

"You intend to get the stag and put it on her, making her a slave." Baghra said

"A regular Sun Summoner would be useful but she is a Dual Summoner, she has become everything. The Future of our people, more than I am." I said

"Yes, but where is she going?" Baghra asked

"Careful, she's more important than you right now." I said

"Good Luck finding her Aleksander, I would guess you'd need a skilled tracker to track her movements. I may be less important to you but she looks at me as an example." Baghra said

Days went by as I got reports from people who were looking for her and yet no one had seen her! How could she sneak past so many guards and where was she hiding? I decided to leave the little palace and search for her on my own with a few people to come along. I started to think about what Amira might be doing as she'd never been on her own and of course we'd noted Marie and Nadia were missing too so I knew she had her assigned guards with her. Those three would be a force to deal with on their own but I thought of where she might go.

she wouldn't go seek her parents, would she? I thought

When it came down to the truth we went about looking over every city knowing she hadn't gotten past the fold. I could feel it she was close and when I looked at my wrist pulling the kefta down I saw her initials faintly there so I knew we were on the right track but when they faded again once we went a certain direction I questioned where she was hiding.

I will find her. I thought

Amira's pov:

I kept watching on my wrist as it was there but then it faded as I gave a sigh of relief knowing that there was another city close to Keramsin. We were to wait out there and it was hard not to want to leave but we stayed down in the basement where it was easy. If grandma Catalina was answering the door it was just someone bringing the usual milk.

"Are you ok?" Marie asked

"He isn't looking at his wrist to know if I'm close." I said

"That's good." Nadia said

We waited there in silence that felt like forever until I heard the sound of the front door again and the person walked into the house. I had my dagger in case I needed it ready to attack but when grandma came down I calmed down. I put my dagger away when I saw my parents and I went over and hugged them.

"Amira, you're safe." Father said

"You are safe Amira." Mother said

"We need to get moving, Morozova's stag is somewhere." I said

I heard the sound of someone else coming down and I saw Nico, he seemed surprised where I was. I questioned if he was still on my side or was he working with my fiance. When he walked over and hugged me I was surprised but I hugged him back.

"We need to get moving. Your name is in every town looking for the girl with the black engagement ring." Nico said as he took my hands and removed my gloves seeing the engagement ring. "So you are going to marry him?"

"It was arranged and he did ask in front of nobles I couldn't say no." I said

"Are you still going to go through with it?" Nico asked

I looked at my wrist as I knew that the letters were not there but I traced his initials on my wrist. My father must have noticed cause he grabbed my free hand and he made me look at him. I knew the truth that his arrangement was not what he thought.

"He's your soulmate?" Father asked

"Yes." I said

We decided over a plan as we discussed it before I saw someone come in a woman with a little boy who had a bracelet like I had once. I knew what he was before I even had to say anything as I just knew. Yet I didn't know who she was as I looked a bit curiously knowing that there were many things I didn't know about this family.

"Who are you?" I asked

"I am Analise, this is my son Adrian." Analise said

"Hello sister." Father said

"Hello Alejandro." Analise said then she looked at me "you're Amira, the one the Darkling is looking for."

"My daughter, Amira. Dual Summoner." Father said

"So is my son but he is Inferni and Tidemaker" Analise said

I was in shock but I knew that there was no time and we all decided to leave as a group. Turns out my grandparents saved every dime to get their own carriage so we were able to use it to travel and the cloth covered the windows so I was concealed. Inside the carriage with me was Father, Mother, Marie, Nadia, Analise, Nico and Adrian. My grandparents were leading the carriage while Nico had given coordinates where to go.

I closed my eyes to try and sleep while we were going and somehow I was able to but once we made it so far we had to go on foot. I told everyone we should split up if I was caught by my fiance they didn't need to get caught with me.

We split into three groups of two groups of five so that way we would be able to keep the power even. Nico was a tracker but he was going with me if I had to get the stag before Aleksander. We split up in the woods as we were moving. Nico focused and it was like he could feel it as we were waiting to get through.

I happen to look at my wrist seeing the initials again seeming brighter than last time. I knew we would come face to face no matter what I did. I was glad things were going well but once we were close I told dad to get Nico out of there but mom did. The Stag made itself known and I was ready or so I thought. While looking at it though, my consciousness that told me I wasn't a killer came back and I fell to the ground in front of it.

I can't do this. I can't kill such a magnificent creature. I thought with a few tears

I felt something nudge me with it's nose as I looked up seeing the stag and I wondered if there was another way to do this. I placed a hand on it's snout and the radiant power that went through me was amazing as I carefully stood up. I smiled looking at it feeling it's power merging with my own but then I felt pain on my side and I fell from the stag.

"Amira!" Father said as he got over to me and he carefully picked me up

"Easy, I wasn't going to hurt her." Aleksander said

I saw him forming shadows and instinct took over as I put light up knowing that the bulletproof Kefta was a lifesaver for me. I could run out of power if not careful as I looked at him knowing that he figured it out that I was going after the Stag.

"I'm disappointed in you Amira, I thought we were on the same page of things. You were coming after the stag this whole time." Aleksander said

"You just want to kill it for its power." I said

"It's for you." Aleksander said

"Lies, if you kill it you get the amplifier." I said

"Believe as you want for now but you can't protect it." Aleksander said

I wanted to deny it but the stag ran in fear and before I knew it he killed it before my eyes. I'd failed at what Baghra wanted and asked me for but I was starting to drain my energy from holding this.

"Now please hand her over." Aleksander asked

"No." Father said

As my hand fell from holding the light the last thing I saw was a flash of light and the feeling of being carried. I was in and out of consciousness from being tired but I heard father say he was going to hide me for as long as he could.

#shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone #grishaverse #darkling x reader #team darkling #darkling #the darkling #general kirigan #aleksander morovoza #fanfic #ben barnes

20 notes · View notes

heloflor · 3 years

Text

Me : “I don’t think I should write characters that are explicitly neurodivergent because I don’t know that much about neurodiversity and I never take the time to know more. If I were to make a character who happens to have neurodivergent traits and call them neurodivergent, I might get it wrong and I don’t want to give a fic with bad or stereotypical representation in it, it’s unfair for those who can and wish to identify with the character. So if I write about a character that the fandom sees as neurodivergent, I will simply try to write them close to their canon personality; and if they happen to have traits that people can identify, I’ll just let other people do their own headacanons around it without touching on the topic myself.”

Also me : “So :

- Vinnie Dakota absolutely adores animals. In the future, all animals are extinct, so in order to see animals, you either get a robot pet or you pay to have some time in a “place simulation” room and order it to simulate a field with holographic animals. Dakota learned about animals through books and often went to the simulation place or bough some stickers and other stuff from the rare places that still sold animal merch. He never got a robotic pet or never kept it for long because it’s too dull compared to a real animal, or should I say his thoughts of real animals.

- During his first mission, Dakota was ecstatic to see animals for the first time and, after the mission, spent a few hours looking at and petting the ones he could. In his house in the future, he has a room in which he displays animal-related stuff he got from his missions through time, like art or figurines or ornaments or even plushies etc. He might also sometimes take pictures of animals and put them with the souvenir he got from the same mission. He takes extra care of the stuff he has in this room and organizes it a certain way. He has the money to have a place with several rooms : as we see in “Picture Day”, once they got fired, Cavendish and Dakota had the money to go to Hawaii for an entire week and without knowing when and how they will get a new job, since Bob Block met them as they were about to leave for their vacation. Also Cavendish mentioned studying for 20 cycles, so this job doesn’t seem like a given. So being a time traveler seems to pay well.

- When he and Cavendish started dating (I headcanon them as starting to date 2 years after meeting a marrying 3 years later, so 5 years after meeting), everytime they went through a century they never or barely visited, Dakota would get a random souvenir, not always animal-related, along with a picture of either him, Cavendish or both of them. He puts these souvenirs and pictures in a different part of the room. The picture we see in their car in “Fungus Among Us” is from a mission in a place they visited before, but Dakota found the situation too funny to not take a picture.

- Every celebration (holidays, birthdays, dates important to them), Cavendish and Dakota would give each other gifts. Dakota always tries to find something related to Professor Time while Cavendish forces himself to break a few rules and go back in time without being ordered to so he can find something animal-related to Dakota. Dakota is always genuinely happy about these gifts, though he learned not to tease Cavendish about the whole “breaking the rules” situation. Those gifts are either stuff like fossils or skulls/bones or they’re stuff related to the culture of the time-period like watching tournaments in ancient Rome.

- When the two get married and buy a place together, Dakota makes sure it has a room large enough to put his growing collection. As time went by, it started to be less about animals and more about what they find during their missions, though the animal part is still very much there. Dakota refers to the room as “The memory room” while Cavendish calls it “Vinnie’s room”. Cavendish doesn’t spend that much time in it, though he absolutely loves the feeling of reminiscence the collection gives him. If he has guests at home, he tries to keep them away from the room. He knows how important it is for Dakota and doesn’t want it to be disrupted. Cavendish tried to get into Dakota’s passion but, while he found some stuff to be interesting, he’s not really into it compared to Dakota.

- After the events of the episode “We’re Going to the Zoo”, Dakota brought back tickets for his collection, along with a picture of him holding squirrels in his arms while another one has its head coming out of Dakota’s pants, near his feet. Dakota went back to the zoo several times and ended up learning what every animal was and in which section of the zoo they were.

- When the two are fired and banned, they only get like an hour to pack all their stuff. So Dakota uses some future deus ex machina technology, making their house surrounded by a barrier that only the two of them can open. That way, nobody can touch the house and, if they were to be able to go back to the future, which seems to be the case if season 2 was already thought of when “A Christmas Peril” was made, Dakota could find his collection intact, along with the rest of the house.

- Once stuck in the past, Dakota kind of gave up on doing a collection. They don’t have enough space and the realization that Cavendish could now die anytime put a lot on stress on him and most of his thoughts were on Cavendish. This stress started to dim out after the events of the second half of the season, when Dakota realized that maybe the world was done trying to get rid of Cavendish, given how the man was able to survive alone for about a month. During the first celebration they had since getting banned, Cavendish bought something animal-related as usual and it led Dakota to wish to start a collection again. Given the space and their current situation, this collection would mostly be pictures that he can keep in an album in a drawer. Cavendish would probably be the one to buy the album after realizing that Dakota started taking random pictures again.

- At some point, Cavendish learns that there’s a petting zoo in Danville and decides to use it as a birthday gift/surprise. Dakota has never been more in love with him than during the moment when he stepped out of the car and saw the place’s sign (with the exception of their wedding and honeymoon).

…aaaannnd I just made Dakota have an hyperfixation, didn’t I ?

Though, to be honest, I really do want to write characters that are diverse, not only in terms of sexuality like I already do but also in upbringing and neurodiversity. Thing is, to write a neurodivergent character, I need to have the answer to these questions : How often do they stim ? What are the most common stims and what is and isn’t considered as such, aka what does the character does in the show that seems to be a stim ? How does the character acts/should act with others ? Which social cues do they understand ? Which ones do they not understand ? How to write a character that you can tell is neurodivergent without having to make them scream ‘I’m not neurotypical’; with instead having the only ‘confirmation’ of it being in the tags ? How to make them very excited about something without falling into the ‘autistic people are children’ stereotype ?

As long as I can’t answer these questions, I refuse to be an idiot and try to write about something I know I will mess up. And while I do have the curiosity and will to learn more, if not simply because I’m curious about neurodiversity, don’t expect me to write about it anytime soon. Right now my priority is to ‘digitalize’ all the dozen fics I wrote on paper (two of them had been in my writing pile for two years, and several for a year) while making the eventual post that comes to mind like this one.”

Edit : So a few weeks after making that post, I started to learn more about neurodiversity because being autistic makes you curious to know what kinds of behaviors are due to you not being neurotypical. And, as it had been pointed out, I’m not using the correct term here. I didn’t give Dakota a hyperfixation but a special interest. From what I understand, the difference is that hyperfixations stick to you constantly for a while (a few weeks or months), leading you to easily hyperfocus on the topic, before you suddenly start to get less invested in that interest. On the other hand, special interests can stick for months or sometimes years. And even if you’re not constantly thinking about your interest, it’s still there in a corner of your mind and you never get tired of it and keep the knowledge you accumulated to talk about it anytime.

So yeah, I gave Dakota a special interest. The reason why I thought it was a hyperfixation is because I see this term be very often associated with ADHD and a lot of people see Dakota as having ADHD. But still, my bad for mixing up the two. And the reason I didn’t edit the post sooner is because it kind of slipped out of my mind until I made a new post today that mentions this one. Sorry for that too.

#Milo Murphy's Law #Vinnie Dakota #Dakavendish #long post #I guess ?#headcanons #bonus headcanon : Cavendish has a mug collection #but never uses mugs #so Dakota uses them #sometimes taking a certain mug depending on his mood #so that Cavendish knows if he's mad or something #me : I don't know shit abour neurodiversity #also me : *was literally diagnosed as autistic*#though that might actually explain it #maybe I want to know more because of my 'collecting info' side #on top of wanting to be respectful #and curiosity

57 notes · View notes

mallickshah · 3 years

Text

A GATHERING

YEAR 2021 ; MAY 1ST

There was a gathering in a part of the club's faction that not many had ever been to. Behind the tavern that held the name of Yureif, Mallick’s brother, a name that not many knew of either. Mallick’s name had started to make its rounds through the faction though and not just on clubs' lands, but in the entirety of Kadeu. The main reason behind it, at first, had been his new gain of the title of Ace, of course. The manner in which it was obtained, who he had been associated with when it was obtained; the name of The Resistance muddled with the name of the Ace of clubs did not seem to please many, clubs included.

Despite all of that, the new Ace had kept quiet about his whereabouts for two entire weeks. The rumor mill might have enjoyed this absence, this lack of leadership, if it wasn’t for the small things that were also being done while he all but let himself be a simple whisper, or a harsh critic from the mouth of those who wanted this new impostor to reveal his cards. Mallick had learned many things from the man he’d been and the one he now was though, the most important rule he’d himself instilled in his own operations was to move in the shadows.

To many, this title would just be a power trip, something to hold onto while they barked orders and let the rest of the world see how much control they could exerce because of their rank. To many, this title would just be another way to subjugate an already overtaken faction. So Mallick had needed to think about the course of action to take before taking a different path. Because he would certainly not fall into the trap that had led him to fight the last Ace of clubs.

Things needed to be different; many conversations and consulting with his family afterwards had proven this fact correct. It didn’t matter how it was formulated, Mallick had a sense that even his parents had at one time dreamed of an opportunity as such. However, no matter how dire, how urgent it seemed to reveal what he had in his mind, what he knew would be better suited for clubs, without breaking the order of things in which they operated. Or rather, the disorder they thrived in. In order for him to do so, he had to mull, he had to think, to meditate on the matter, to play behind the curtains.

He’d let the rumor mill play its advocate, both for and against him, while Mallick simply let himself use connections he’d never known would find themselves useful for such a thing to tie himself further into this fate. It all brought it down to a statement plastered in clubs' streets, and only in clubs' streets. For one, they were not allowed in other factions, but even if they had been, Mallick would have still excluded all that were not part of this faction.

One sole goal ended up prevailing from the stapling of loose ends and the unifying of alliances needed to be of the same sound mind to better the lives of the people of his faction; their faction. Mallick was not alone in this, he had many other heads he could count, aside from the makeshift council that The Barbarians saw themselves create after the havoc they wrecked on the faction.

They had not been the easiest to reach, or to talk with, or to negotiate with, but Mallick had learned something about himself he’d always feared could rear itself back up. Something that had stayed dormant, and only manifested itself whenever Saiyah could not see him act upon them. Mallick had once been a very domineering young boy, and young man, but by the time he was all but embracing that step in his life, the woman he would never cease to love and adore waltzed in his life and shook the very core of that foundation.

During these two weeks, Mallick had admitted to himself that Saiyah was no longer and would never be again, so it was time for him to reconcile with the man he had been. The one who had been the cause of her death, for the foes that he’d gained along the way not forgetting his old ways. This man could now come at the forefront, and the ire he would instigate would be more than justified. It had once been unfair to try to coerce him out, but it was now the perfect fit for these gloves.

Or for this stand, among the clamoring of the crowd.

The sun was too high for it to be the beginning of May, but maybe this spoke to the urgency of the current situation. Mallick was aware of many things. One, the only reason why so many people were here was because of the allies he’d decided to take with him, his name only would not have been able to draw such a crowd. Two, the crowd was growing restless with the heat, their gaze too focused and their bodies would soon find themselves needing some type of action to relieve themselves of the heat they were enduring. Three, that release when it came to clubs would simply end up in a brawl rather than a quiet disapproving grumblings.

He knew these people, he was one of them. So it made him feel less and less apprehensive as he took his time to exit his brother’s tavern and walk up to the wooden stand. Yureif had taken some pride in his tavern being the place of the gathering, and Devjay had appointed himself as the man one would have to cross first before they could get to him. They were still debating on whether they should label him a right-hand, or a brother in arms. For now, he was simply all but Mallick’s shadow.

Mallick had only ever been a lover of the light, or rather, ever since a certain one slipped in uninvited and brought in even more than he’d ever thought could possibly be found. But he’d picked the black panther as his emblem for a good reason, Mallick had always been a man of the shadows.

It was commanding to see how the moment he stepped into view, the clamoring quieted, and when he rose behind the stand, the crowd took a stance. Mallick had made himself ready for what he knew of these people, his people. If a fight had to break while he was talking, or even before, he’d simply let it unfold and do this at another time.

However, a single line on the posters had advised them to not start a brawl if they wanted to be given anything they wished from the tavern, free of charge. Mallick had shamelessly bribed his way into making sure they behaved, or tried to at the very least. His brother might suffer a few losses for a bit, but it’d quickly come back compensated if this took flight the way Mallick hoped it would.

The heat of the day was now sitting atop his head, his shaved beard was no longer leaving him with a vulnerable feeling. He was long past that sensibility to the sight he was used to showing to his reflection.

Mallick started speaking and hoped to the gods that this would not derail in another civil war.

THE SPEECH (THE ACTIONS & REACTIONS)

I come to you with something we’ve never thought we could have, something none of us probably ever think of now, because we are not used to it being offered; peace. I do not mean peace by giving to others what we have and wishing that they treat us right, or giving up who we are and what we believe in to be the way they wish us to be. I mean peace in being ourselves, peace in giving to the people of this faction something better than the bloodshed they’ve been enduring, generation after generation. We are crumbling! But look at you, you are warriors, fighters, better than soldiers, some of you are the most fearless merchants! We have the power and we have the skills it takes to make us better together. That is where I want you to start, when you think about what can be done for the future.

(The crowd was still attentive, but some were slowly leaving their position, dispersing as Mallick stepped off the stand to walk among them; and as his voice grew louder, some did halt and turn around. Perhaps begrudgingly, perhaps simply to enjoy the spectacle, or who knows, get a pass in to take down this new Ace.)

I come in peace, because I realize I might not be the image of what you would think to be a strong representation of us, but I am not a weak man and no men in clubs are weak. None! WE are what WARRIORS were meant to be and WARRIORS do not fight dishonorably, nor do they kill for the thrill, we kill to feed our families, we FIGHT to show our strength. We can still do that and do it to have BETTER for all of US. Don’t you see it? The other factions do not care about us, they will jibe, they will insult, they will mock us and we let them do it by continuing to act like WE are NOTHING else but the WEAPONS WE CARRY.

(The crowd has not entirely dispersed, some newcomers have found themselves walking forward because of a sudden clamor of a lone man now carrying the hammer of another, Mallick is that lone man. He is all but arm wrapped around the shoulders of the weapon’s owner and somewhere, someone finally does something that shows less disinterest; a scream is heard.)

But first--I wish to say that it almost brought me to a path none wishes to carry. To work in the shadows of a rebellion that might have tainted my reputation for your eyes. But I did it for the union of this faction. Because I was a lost man, and for that, I will never use their name, because they should remain in the shadows, where they belong. WE do not belong in the shadow, we BELONG in a light that has long been shining on others because they casted us their clouds.

When I say WE, I mean all of us. The weak, the poor, the rich, and especially the STRONG.

(It has to come to this; Mallick walking among the crowd and the crowd walking with Mallick. They make rounds, they move with something akin to a trance. Maybe something has been sprayed in the air, maybe it is simply that the heat has finally gotten to them all. The Ace and the people, the ones that are left and the new ones, they might as well just mesh and become one.)

ARE YOU NOT TIRED OF BEING AT THE BOTTOM WHEN YOU ARE THE MIGHTIEST?

(Now the chaos is present; but it is not a chaos of weapons brandished against each other, it is of weapons held up and clinking, the way one would cheer with pints; not the delicate touch of a wine glass. Mallick was yanked somewhere in between; his brother all but wearing a disapproving scowl when all it did was make him laugh heartily. There’s this glee in his eyes that has Devjay letting him go then, there’s something more potent than anything else Mallick has ever felt in his life. It feels alive and like it will consume him, but if it comes to that, then he’ll let it be. The crowd quiets when the silence stretches for longer, without Mallick’s voice, without his words and suddenly as he’s back behind the stand, they all look confusedly for a second. Weapons are held, the tension seems to return. Mallick clears his throat and holds them with a steady gaze. He’s all but one man against a crowd, but there’s an undeniable power and confidence in him that tells them if he has to, he will fight every single one of them if they dared to challenge him. Mallick waits. The silence stretches. Then a grin pulls the corners of his lips.)

Well if you are TIRED, then rest assured that I’ll make sure to remind them they shouldn’t have underestimated you.

(The end might feel anticlimactic for many, but it is also the beginning of one promise being complied with. One promise that put them all right where they are needed, in the Panther’s den. As they gather in the tavern once it is made clear that they can by the owner of the tavern, Mallick follows suit; ready to put on his best suit; and gather all the information he can from the ones who he noticed stayed from the beginning to the end. It is not all the members of the faction that need convincing; it is the ones who could turn out to believe in him and in what he wants to do more than they would in anything else; those are the ones that he needs on his side. Mallick is aware of this and he will not lose this opportunity to build the threat that will lead him where he needs to get. Like his emblem of choice, The Black Panther prowls; stays quiet; strikes when it is ripe to do so.)

#the wounded widow (solo)#mallick thinks he's all that #year: 2021 #i am no politician. so that speech has more drama than truth.#don't shame my bb if he starts doing shady things...

10 notes · View notes

calzona-ga · 3 years

Link

[Spoiler's] departure marks only the fifth time (and first since Patrick Dempsey) that the ABC medical drama has said farewell to a series regular via character death.

[This story contains spoilers from the March 11, "Helplessly Hoping," episode of Grey's Anatomy.]

Grey's Anatomy said parted ways with a beloved member of its cast during Thursday's midseason premiere and it did so in a relatively rare fashion for the ABC medical drama: with a character death.

Giacomo Gianniotti's Dr. Andrew DeLuca was killed off following a heroic battle to stop a sex trafficker in a storyline that stretched back to last season and ultimately capped the actor's seven-season run on the Shondaland favorite. DeLuca, who was stabbed and ultimately died in surgery, became only the fifth series regular in Grey's Anatomy history to have their storyline end in a fatality and the first since Patrick Dempsey's shocking exit nearly six years ago.

In a fitting end to his storyline, DeLuca winds up on Meredith's (Ellen Pompeo) magical beach and is able to have a farewell with his former love interest before walking into the sunset. DeLuca joins George (T.R. Knight), Derek (Dempsey), Mark (Eric Dane) and Lexie (Chyler Leigh) as series regulars (per Wikipedia) to leave the show in death. Of the 33 total series regulars in 17 seasons of Grey's, 13 characters have left alive. And it's of course worth noting that several other characters have been killed off of Grey's, though those actors have either been guest stars or recurring players.

Below, showrunner Krista Vernoff and star Gianniotti talk with The Hollywood Reporter about how DeLuca's death factors into a season that has put COVID-19 at the top of the show's call sheet and what's next.

Meredith is on a vent and that was the last beat until the show's return tonight. Why was it important for that to be the image viewers had of this iconic character for three months? She's still on the vent in the midseason return.

Vernoff: That happened to be the midseason finale. Sometimes stories tell themselves and things happen in very powerful ways. As an image, that works on people's psyche and helps them understand that this pandemic is ongoing and profound and impacting communities in really painful ways. It's a powerful image to help people remember why staying they're home. If this thing can hit Meredith Grey, it can hit anybody.

This season has put COVID-19 at the top of the call sheet, with realistic portrayals of everything from infected doctors, others struggling with the emotional gravity and, in the midseason finale, hospitals reached capacity. When it aired, that episode was sadly prescient. How does the rest of the season play out in terms of how close it has been to what's happening in the world now?

Vernoff: What's so interesting about it being prescient is that we were telling the truth in that episode of what was happening in May 2020 in Washington state and it was happening again in Los Angeles in December, when the episode aired. We weren't prescient; we were telling a story that happened in the early stage of the pandemic. It's been amazing how when we thought when we were breaking the show, we thought we were going home for two weeks and now it's a year later and we're looking at this in this way. It's still staggering to me. We are not jumping forward to some imaginary future where covid is a thing of the past. We are still set in the past in the back half of the season. That was one of the decisions when we decided that Meredith has covid and that that would span a fair amount of the season. We didn't want Meredith in a bed with covid for 11 months. We are still in like May/June of 2020 creatively. We're not jumping forward so we don't have to try and keep up with what's happening now; we're looking at what was happening then.

In a season exploring covid, why was the first major character death of the season unrelated? Was this supposed to be the season finale last year?

Vernoff: There was no plan to kill him at the end of last season. I very much did not want to kill DeLuca last season because he'd been through a mental health crisis and he'd come through it. I wanted to show that a person can go through a mental health crisis and come out the other side and be a functional, contributing member of the hospital staff. This story of DeLuca seeing that sex trafficker again and following her out of the hospital and refusing to let up and it becoming a part of Station 19 and following it and right when you think he's got her, somebody punches him. You think he's been punched but you come back and realize he's been stabbed and then he's on the beach with Meredith. My reaction to [the story idea] was, What?! Fuck! No! Really!? This is what I'm doing?! No! Many times after I pitched it to the writers and we designed the season around this story, I started to chicken out and second-guess myself. Can we save him?! Can he live?! He can't. We've done a lot of near-deaths and saved them since I took over the show. So now people are expecting that. This was the story. It was as shocking to me as it was to you.

Giacomo, what was your reaction when you got the call that Andrew was being killed off?

Gianniotti: Krista and Debbie Allen, our exec producer, called me into an office said they've tried it different ways and keep coming back to the trafficking storyline from last season. The storyline was so highly received, and because of that, they knew they had to continue to explore it. They saw an opportunity to tell a beautiful story that highlighted human trafficking and for DeLuca to go down as a hero and make this really noble act to stop this perpetrator but would unfortunately cost him his life. I've been on the show for seven seasons thought it was a great way to exit. Krista running Station 19 as well had the idea to make it a crossover so we could tell it over two episodes and spend time with DeLuca. I'm a storyteller and the best story always wins and I thought this was the best story.

What was the larger point you wanted to make with DeLuca's storyline? He dies a hero, which is a bit of the ultimate for a Grey's death.

Vernoff: I was processing [grief] myself when this story came. As we were going through this shared trauma of covid together and quarantine and being away from the people we loved, I wanted all the other tragedies in the world to just stop. It didn't seem fair. The Alexandria House, a charity I support in L.A. that shelters battered women and their children — so people who have already been traumatized — the first week of the shutdown, the Alexandria House caught on fire. It was like, What?! Isn't covid enough? But everything else didn't stop because of covid and we were all having to process other things, too, and horrible tragedies that come with life. That's part of where this story was born. All these people are going to die of covid but also sometimes other people just die. And it's f—ing awful. Part of DeLuca dying in this way … watching this episode, watching his mom greet him on the beach and feeling that grief, I cried harder watching this episode than I cried since George O'Malley died. I thank Giacomo for playing this character so beautifully and powerfully that through the death of DeLuca I believe there is an opportunity for us all to release our collective grief.

Will DeLuca re-appear on that beach again this season?

Vernoff: No. I thought him walking away with his mom was the most powerful closure for that character. But you will see him again, just not on the beach.

Gianniotti: Even though his life has come to an end, there's many ways to show our characters who have passed. I look forward to tell some other stories in those ways. Maybe there's flashbacks or other scenarios where we can see DeLuca. That's about all I can say. But it's not a drill; he's definitely died.

What was filming on that beach like given how much those scenes have meant to viewers?

Gianniotti: Ellen and I kept pinching ourselves. To be able to shoot on a beach was amazing. It was nice to be a part of that and have DeLuca have his moment and say his piece with Meredith. There was a lot of unfinished business between them. Maybe if Meredith hadn't gotten covid, the first part of this season could have been them picking up the pieces of where they left off in their romances. But circumstances didn't allow for that. It was nice that DeLuca got to at least thank her for everything she'd given him.

How do you think Meredith will respond to DeLuca's death?

Gianniotti: It's tough to say because you think of the dream and what happened at the end of the episode and wonder if Meredith would correlate that with the metaphor: if he's joining his mother that must mean he's leaving me and passing on. Maybe that would translate to her waking up? Who knows? Or it will be a massive surprise when she wakes up. There is a very obvious, glaring comparison with reality in that so many health care professionals have lost their own due to covid. It's a direct representation and reflection of that. It's helping people in the industry feel seen as well. It hits different and it's going to send a shockwave through all the characters at the hospital — and maybe Meredith the most.

Knowing Meredith is battling covid, it feels like there's one of two outcomes there. How does the covid story that you're telling impact the different finales that you're crafting considering the show's uncertain future?

Vernoff: More will be revealed as you watch the show. (Laughs)

Without spoiling anything, how would you describe who else will visit Meredith on that magical beach?

Vernoff: There are some really fun surprises coming up. It's one of the things that I have enjoyed as rays of light in the darkness of the storytelling necessitated by covid. That beach is a ray of light and the surprises of who you see there are rays of light. And I don't want to take that away.

Can you confirm there will be others who appear on that beach who viewers haven't seen there yet this season?

Vernoff: Yes.

Giacomo, you got to make your directorial debut on Grey's this season. After seven seasons, was there anything you wanted to do on the show but never had the chance?

Gianniotti: This felt like a gift. They rolled everything I wanted to do into two episodes, they wrote my dream exit storyline. I got to have an action movie told on Station 19 chasing a perpetrator and not wearing scrubs. That was fun and not something I'd gotten to do on Grey's for obvious reasons. All the scenes where we got to take our time and be together with Ellen and Meredith on the beach was a good way to tie up the loose ends. As far as the mental health storyline, it was an honor and privilege to tell that story. Ultimately, it's about representation and for people to see someone who is bipolar can be an attending and command a whole department at a hospital is huge.

Did you keep anything from set?

Gianniotti: I didn't! Maybe I'll go steal my stethoscope next time I'm there!

What's next for you? Any plans on returning to Grey's as a director?

Gianniotti: Definitely investing a ton of time in directing and hoping to continue to do that here and abroad. I'm seeking a lot of opportunities in Italy and Canada as a director and actor and have a few things coming on the horizon that I'm excited to share

#grey's anatomy #krista vernoff #17x07 #andrew deluca #giacomo gianniotti #spoilers #THR

13 notes · View notes

junhaoshua · 3 years

Text

my ode to fandom

2020, the start of a new decade, is ending. 2021, the start of my adulthood, is beginning. I’ve always wanted to do a post about my fandom journey, and I’ve also decided to change my url starting next year: from the old faithful @moonlightmasquerade to a url for my new fandom, @junhaoshua. So before taking such a huge step, this felt like a perfect time to thank all the media that has shaped me as a person throughout my journey of youth.

This is half-chronological, half-remembered. This isn't comprehensive, because it doesn't have to be to be meaningful. It can't list every single fandom that has made its mark on me, because there are too many to count.

This is about many people’s stories, including my own. This is about love and power and growing up and changing. This is about how transformative work can transform lives.

To fandom: this is my ode to you.

To Frozen, the fandom that was my first love: thank you for being the place I discovered fanfic. Thank you for teaching me that it was okay to be myself. For teaching me that my parents could make mistakes when raising me even though they love me. For showing me that villains can be redeemed.

To MLP, the fandom of my early teens and beyond: thank you for being such a big part of my life. Fallout Equestria, making me realise the impact of war and giving me hope that people can heal from the worst, that we can make a difference in the darkness. The Immortal Game, telling me that trauma can be overcome and my fate is in my hands. Hard Reset, teaching me to persevere despite the odds. Turnabout Storm, introducing me to the franchise that would inspire my future career. Freeport Venture, guiding me as I grew into my own person. These are lessons that kept me going throughout the rough years. Thank you for teaching me to write magic systems and epic fight scenes. Thank you for giving me hope that one day, even a shy bookworm like me would find my friends.

To Wicked, the fandom of my tumultuous years: thank you for teaching me that I could be beautiful and loved no matter how I look. For opening my eyes to the cowardice of people. For helping me to understand why injustice can thrive. For telling me that sometimes you lose your best friend but you don't stop loving them. Thank you for preparing me to face all this in real life.

To Star Wars, the fandom I was “born” into: thank you for creating a world that inspires writers. For the trilogies and the beautiful fics that were born from them. For the flaws in canon that made fans want to fix them, and write wonderful stories. Double Agent Vader and the questions of agency and power and justice and the need for righteous indignation. Reylo fics and redemption and atonement and forgiveness. The sequel trilogy stories, too many to count, about finding your family and being your own person and healing from trauma.

To Marvel, the fandom that has brought me comfort for years: thank you for starting a franchise that lasted me throughout my childhood. For the stories of X-Men and being ostracised for being born different. For the ideas of Avengers Tower and the Defenders and Spider-verses and other teams, which may not have been well handled in canon, but which inspired so many stories about dangerous people coming together and being accepted for who they are. For Daredevil and making me decide that yes I’m going to be a lawyer and no my disability will not stop me.

To DC, the fandom I grew up in: thank you for the DCAU that I spent hours watching as a child. Thank you for inspiring so many amazing, creative people to write. Batfamily fics and the stories of well-meaning Dad Bruce who screws up despite his best efforts. Babs Gordon and being a total badass from her wheelchair. bricklaying and its discussion of power and class issues and trauma and identity, a story that I go back to time and time again.

To Hamilton, the fandom that inspired me: thank you for introducing me to the wonderful genre of rap and hip-hop. For helping me to realise that there are villains, there are people who make mistakes, and there are people who exploit others’ mistakes. For awakening a fire and ambition in me that I had long tried to douse to try to fit in and be more likable, and telling me it was okay to be young scrappy and hungry. And for reminding me that the people I love are important, too.

And now, to the grand prizes, to the fandoms that have been the biggest part of my life.

To Harry Potter, the fandom I first participated in: thank you for opening my mind and broadening my horizons. For helping me to move past my conservative upbringing and my prejudices (the thanks is all to the fandom, not to canon). For helping me to find my first fandom family, my best friends @reapersbarge and @a-symphony-in-vellichor. For being full of stories about healing just when I needed it. For Dramione, a ship that would lead to me publishing my very first fanfiction, inspired by the wonderful @colubrina. For Drarry and my second fic that gave me the chance to tell a story with my best friend and the other half of my brain. Without HP, without these friends, I would never have found the courage or inspiration to finally finish and publish my stories.

To Six of Crows, the fandom I grew in: thank you for being my first experience with representation in stories. For opening my eyes to the world of YA novels and so many wonderful, amazing stories. (SoC was literally one of the first YA novels I ever read and I wouldn’t have gotten into bookblr without it). For helping me learn how to work with an ensemble cast of characters that all got a chance to shine. For inspiring me to come back from my long writing hiatus and rediscover the joy of being an author.

To Taylor Swift and Marina, my two favourite solo artists: thank you for music that perfectly fits whatever I’m going through. Thank you for reputation and Electra Heart when I was hurt and angry and trying to build a shield to hide my scars. Thank you for Lover and Froot when I was trying to learn to be happy again, to conceal my hurt with a smile. Thank you for folklore and evermore and Love + Fear when I was finally ready to unbandage my scars and confront everything that I had faced and declare that it did not break me.

To Seventeen, my biggest current fandom: thank you for bringing me joy during this tough year. For always giving me something to look forward to every Monday when the days passed in a blur. For the new friends I’ve met here who welcomed me to caratblr, especially @soonhoonsol, @thekidultlife, @haosvteen, @myunqho, @xuseokgyu and @haoranghae. For reminding me what it feels like to fall deeply into a new fandom for the first time. For the amazing fics and gifs that always bless my dash (there may be another, separate post on that). For awakening my desire to write fic again after a long drought where I couldn’t think of a single thing, and giving me more plot bunnies than I know what to do with. Thank you for being a safe space that helped me to grow and heal and smile again.

To conclude this story:

Throughout my journey, I’ve seen the same threads and themes over and over again. To be my own person and not the person that others moulded me into. To be ambitious and hungry and the hero of my own story. To find my own family, to choose the people I claim as my own. To see injustice and apathy and evil and hopelessness, and to be angry and stand up against it. To believe that people can change, can atone for what they’ve done, can be redeemed. To believe in the power of hope and light against the darkness.

Fandom is a part of my life that I truly can’t imagine being without. It has been the lifebuoy when I was stuck in trauma and unable to escape. The bandage when I was broken and bleeding and despondent. The glue to put me back together when I shattered into a million sharp-edged pieces. The armor when all I wanted to do was rip out my feelings and put up stone walls around myself. The candle that guided me through the night until I was ready to step into the daylight.

For the fandoms of my past: I may have become less active, less involved, but I still return to the songs and stories that have been an integral part of my youth. I see them now with older, wiser eyes, and recognise bits and pieces of my personality that I absorbed from them. I’ve never truly left a fandom; how can you leave something when it’s part of you?

For the fandoms of my present: I want to live in the moment and enjoy my experiences for as long as I can, even if I’ll outgrow them one day. I know that even if I move on from them one day, I’ll always treasure the lessons learnt and the memories made, and they’ll have a special place in my heart no matter what.

I believe in the power of stories, of movies, of music, of fandom. I would not be who I am today without it. Every fandom I’ve been in has left an impression on who I am, made its mark on me, a golden tattoo. I can look at them and trace the way each and every one has shaped me into the person I am today.

And as I hover in the in-between of childhood and adulthood, as I stand now a kidult, I’ll embark on this new phase of life with all the lessons that fandom has taught me, and will continue to teach me for many years to come.

#my work #fandom #fanfic

16 notes · View notes

carewyncromwell · 4 years

Photo

“And so...esteemed members of the Wizengamot...based on the overwhelming evidence -- the factually bankrupt, inflammatory anti-Muggle and Muggle-born leaflets sent out by the defendant’s Commission and promoted by the defendant herself; the transcripts of trials overseen by the defendant that spell out blatant corruption and unsanctioned cross-examination techniques, including having Dementors present during all trials and actively refusing to give any defendant proper legal representation; the testimony of over fifty Ministry employees, speaking to the defendant’s close working relationships with known Death Eaters and to her own willingness to overlook Wizarding Law to advance herself and her Commission’s political aims; the countless memos written in the defendant’s own hand condemning nearly a thousand people, including over a hundred children, to unjust captivity; and the defendant’s well-known reputation among her ex-students, her coworkers, and even her own family for enjoying the suffering of others and persecuting fellow wizards and witches not just for their blood, but also for suffering from medical conditions like lycanthropy and blood maledictions -- all of which the defense has offered no suitable defense for, aside from incorrectly asserting that the defendant was ‘simply following orders’ from her superiors...I think there is no question as to her guilt, or to what justice would be appropriate.

Although I -- as a private citizen of the Wizarding World -- agree with Minister Shacklebolt’s measure to remove the Dementors from Azkaban prison...I must acknowledge that if there were ever a case for a criminal from our world deserving the Dementor’s Kiss...it would be Dolores Jane Umbridge. But because we -- unlike the defendant -- have a code of honor before us that we will not break just to achieve a political objective...I believe it’s our solemn duty to ensure this basilisk in human skin never walks free again.”

~Carewyn Cromwell, prosecutor for the trial of Dolores Umbridge // January 1999

Hey guys! So I came across this awesome fashion post and was reminded of dress robes...so here we have a 25-year-old Carewyn Cromwell as the lawyer in charge of prosecuting Dolores Umbridge for her crimes during the Second Wizarding War. She got her hair cut, as you can see! In the 90′s, when the original books are set, there was a lot less of the “big hair” popular during the 80′s, and short, more modest hairstyles became more common. Think of this as a #Future!MC Challenge? 8D

More Future!Carewyn lore under the cut!

The Second Wizarding War was...difficult for Carewyn. Although she had so much baggage with Dumbledore, she agreed to join the Order of the Phoenix, but only on her own terms. Carewyn never attended any of the Order’s meetings in person, preferring to stay in touch solely through her old friends Tonks and Jae, so as to stay at an advantageous position within the Ministry without Fudge suspecting her of associating with known Dumbledore allies like Professor McGonagall or the Weasleys. Even if she wasn’t very active on the battlefield against Voldemort, Carewyn nonetheless provided quite a bit of covert support to them by silently sabotaging Fudge and the Death Eaters at the Ministry. It was a struggle to stay silent and composed in the face of the Death Eaters’ tyrannical takeover of the Ministry and persecution of Muggle-borns and political dissidents, but Carewyn knew she had to strike at the proper moment, if she had any chance of delivering a fatal blow to someone as powerful as Voldemort. This doesn’t mean it wasn’t very, very hard for her not to lash out violently in defense of the people the Muggle-Born Registration Commission hauled into court on trumped-up charges. She was able to smuggle intelligence out to other Order members who helped with rescuing some of those prisoners or protecting wanted fugitives, but Carewyn never forgave herself about the many people she was unable to help.

Meanwhile Carewyn’s brother, Jacob Cromwell -- now a rather prominent Cursebreaker and traveling magical researcher -- helped the Order by hiding Muggle-born fugitives in a secret room he’d constructed in his flat. Even though Ministry officials searched his home multiple times, Jacob’s combination of both magical and Muggle tricks kept the families in his care from being detected every single time.

When the Battle of Hogwarts began, the Minister and his entire support staff left the Ministry to either join their true master Voldemort or (in the case of Percy Weasley) join the Order. Carewyn -- realizing how dangerous it would be to leave the Ministry unprotected when Voldemort and the Death Eaters were still at the height of their magical power -- instead stayed behind, incapacitated the head of the Muggle-born Registration Commission Dolores Umbridge, put her under citizen’s arrest, and took temporary charge over the remainder of the Ministry’s staff. Carewyn sent the majority of them either home to their families or to Hogwarts as reinforcements -- the few employees who chose to stay behind then helped Carewyn with securing the Ministry against a possible assault by the Death Eaters in case they returned and with starting the process of rescuing the Muggle-borns and political enemies imprisoned in Azkaban and its related camps. By the time the Battle of Hogwarts was over, the Death Eaters had lost everything -- their leader, most of their members, and all the power they’d accrued over the Wizarding World.

After the Battle, Carewyn arrived at Hogwarts, seeking out Jacob, who’d gone to fight in her stead, as well as Percy, who at that point would’ve been the legal successor to the role of Minister. While there, she learned of the deaths of Tonks, Lupin, and Fred. The three deaths, on top of the past deaths of other dear friends like Rowan, Cedric, Kyril @kyril-hphm, Moody, and Dobby, were too much for Carewyn to bear. Even now, years later, she resents herself for not having been able to take care of and protect her friends the way she thinks she should have.

Since Percy had resigned as Junior Undersecretary mid-battle, it was decided that an election would have to be held very quickly -- in the meantime, Kingsley Shacklebolt took on the role temporarily, with Carewyn, Arthur Weasley, and Percy serving as support. (Shacklebolt would go on to be nominated and elected Minister for several terms.) Carewyn specifically almost singlehandedly took on the task of bringing everyone who had aligned themselves with the Death Eaters to court to receive proper justice. Fortunately, unlike Barty Crouch, Sr. during the First Wizarding War, Carewyn never railroaded her defendants or lost sight of who she was getting justice for. Every time she faced an accused Death Eater or Voldemort sympathizer, Carewyn felt the presence of her friends in that courtroom with her. And when she looked into her defendants’ eyes and -- through her Legilimency -- saw no sincere love in their minds or souls, the lawyer once called “Cursebreaker Cromwell” became all the more convinced that love was the strongest magic of them all.

Interestingly, although Carewyn prosecuted all three Malfoys, she actually offered relevant evidence and testimony she came across in her own investigations to the defense attorneys assigned to Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. She never let go of her dislike for Lucius Malfoy or his wife, but perhaps because of her sympathy for Draco Malfoy’s position as well as her having met him when he was a kid, Carewyn didn’t express vocal disappointment when the Wizengamot pardoned the Malfoy family after the War. In Draco’s case specifically, Carewyn believed that he, unlike his parents, had the potential to reform himself. She even visited Draco after he was released from custody and -- reminding him of what he’d said to her before they’d parted ways so many years ago -- challenged him to a friendly duel.

Carewyn Cromwell’s name never became world-renown, but the cases she was involved in, both regarding the War and not, became her legacy. Thanks to her efforts, countless Death Eaters were arrested; victims of the Muggle-born Registration Commission received proper compensation and justice; the Statute of Secrecy was relaxed so that Muggle spouses of witches and wizards were allowed to know of their partner’s magical talent before having children with them; and the High Inquisitor position was dismantled so thoroughly that no similar position could ever be created again.

69 notes · View notes

zippityzap · 3 years

Text

My Top Ten Favourite Moments in Sonic Games

The past 30 years the Sonic series has had a lot of memorable moments, too many to list fully, so in celebration of my recent follower milestone, today I’ll be presenting and explaining my personal top ten favourite moments. I would like to emphasise that this list is very subject and is highly influenced by my personal experiences with the Sonic series. It’s not intended to be objective by any means, and I would love to hear what moments you guys would put on your own lists! Additionally, this list is only for things from the games, in the future I’ll make another list for other Sonic media

Without further ado, let’s get started!

10) City Escape’s GUN truck

Interesting set pieces and small scripted moments in levels have been a staple in the Sonic series since the beginning. Sure, they’re not always challenging from a game-play standpoint, but they’re always an entertaining spectacle. One of the most ionic of these moments (and one of my personal favourites) is being chased by the GUN truck. City Escape is already a highly memorable level from the get-go, but the truck sequence is the cherry on top. An additional shout-out to both of the Generations versions of the level for not only bringing it back but changing it up just enough to surprise you and keep you on your toes!

9) Escaping Null Space

Forces is one of those games that I would describe as a truly mixed bag. Yeah, there are a lot of things about the game that kinda sucked or were disappointing, but when it hit a high, BOY did it hit. While I agree with many people that having the Null Space portion of this level actually have gameplay in it would’ve made this moment impact a little harder, I’m just in love with that transition from the silence of null space to the bombastic chorus of Fist Bump. I thought it was a really exciting moment that hypes you up for the rest of the level.

8) Sonic Heroes’ opening cinematic

Heroes was my first 3D Sonic game, and consequently it was my introduction to a lot of things that are staples for the Sonic series. Vocal themes, an extended cast and their interpersonal relationships, story routes that connect to each other. These are some of my favourite things about the Sonic series, so even if some aspects of the game aren’t that great, I could never ever hate or even dislike Heroes. I feel like the opening cinematic to Heroes (the one with the theme song as the music) is the aspect of Heroes that really encapsulates those feelings best. I must’ve spent hours as a kid letting it play over and over again singing along to it.

7) Shadow the Hedgehog (2004) title screen cinematic

Before you laugh, here is where I must remind you that this list is extremely subjective and highly influenced by my personal experiences and memories. Ok now imagine this: you are a 7-8 year old kid, and your experience with media that isn’t mainstream radio or educational children’s tv shows is fairly limited. You’re getting deep into the Sonic series for the first time thanks to playing Heroes and seeing some of the cartoons and you’re interested to know more about the series. You visit Sonic Central, the official site at the time, and they have a music player with a variety of songs from the games. One of the songs it plays is I Am (All of Me). I won’t lie, I was a little blown away because I’d never really heard anything like it before, so I go to find out more about the game it’s from and I come across that opening cinematic.

I think it’s very, very, easy as an adult to laugh at the Shadow the Hedgehog game and it’s… direction, but adult me was not the target audience of that game, kid me was. Say what you want but the effect that game was going for I think is something that just hits best with sheltered little kids, and I’d be curious if anyone else had a similar experience.

6) The ending of Sonic and the Black Knight

I won’t go into too much detail on this one, since this is very much a fan favourite moment and many others have gone into detail about why it’s so great. Black Knight is certainly one of the games that captures Sonic’s character the best, and his words at the end of the game certainly encapsulate this. Followed by the amazing credits theme of Live Life, the ending of Black Knight is certainly one of the most emotional moments in the series.

5) Sonic Generation’s credits

Anniversary games can be a bit of a controversial subject for the Sonic fandom; 06 was one of the games released for the 15th anniversary while Forces is often considered to be a 25th anniversary game. I think Generations really achieved the feeling and the specialness of a celebratory event though. It’s one of my favourite Sonic games and the whole game is full of brilliant moments but I feel the credits really evoke the celebration vibe: a Sonic 1-esque music melody as the credits song, showing footage from the original games each stage is from, and the cherry on top: a ‘Happy Birthday’ message to Sonic recorded from fans who attended the 2011 Sonic Boom and Summer of Sonic conventions. It genuinely warms my heart every time I finish the game.

4) Metropolis Capital City level

Forces gets another representation on this list! Honestly, I believe the parts of Forces that were exciting, such as this, really demonstrate my opinion that Forces had a lot of potential to be a really good game. But I digress, this was my favourite level from Forces because it shows how fun of a villain Infinite could be. The way that Infinite follows you for most of the stage and uses illusions to fuck around with the stage itself? That’s really fun, and it’s not just stage gimmicks for the sake of having a gimmick, it ties into the powers of the villain and makes the player feel involved in a way because Infinite is messing around with you specifically and is having to make to think on your toes. Granted, part of makes this stage stand out so much in a good way is because it’s so different from the rest of the game and it takes you by surprise, so maybe the impact wouldn’t be as hard hitting if this sort of design was used more in the game, but c’mon when you have a villain who’s powers are illusion-based, the sky’s the limit!

3) Sonic Unleashed’s opening cutscene

Can you believe this game came out over a decade ago and the opening cutscene still looks this stunning?! Depending on who you ask, some might even argue that this cutscene has yet to be topped, and honestly, I’m in that camp. Not only is the rendering beautiful and the choreography of the action exciting, but this scene does a wonderful job of setting up for the viewer regardless of how much prior experience they have with the series who Sonic and Dr. Eggman are, as well as setting up the events of the game. I recall being very happy when I heard the animation team for this cutscene would also be handling the animation for the movie.

2) Beating Sonic Unleashed for the first time

So, this is another pretty personal one. I played Unleashed for the first time a few years ago and it is in my opinion, one of the most difficult Sonic games. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes for completely bullshit reasons. My first ever run of Eggmanland was around 40 minutes long and apparently that’s considered a pretty decent time for your first go, but christ it was a nightmare to finish (looking at you, that one section where you have to platform on pipes without a drop-shadow). The following boss sections weren’t much easier- I don’t rage much with video games, I tend to whisper swears under my breath at most but that part where you’re running on the Gaia Colossus had me screaming in anger every time I lost a life.

BUT when I finally beat the difficult sections? Felt like finally cracking your back after feeling stiff all day. Like taking the first sip of water after a walk on a hot day. The relief and satisfaction I felt was indescribable and slowly winding down while Dear My Friend plays as the credits theme was blissful. I don’t play difficult games that often so Unleashed is one of very few games that I have this sort of memory with.

1) Watching my dad get the good ending of Sonic 1

Here’s a small amount of backstory for this pick. My dad got his first job at 19 and he used his first pay-check to purchase the then newly released Sega Mega Drive. He had a lot of games for the console including Sonic the Hedgehog. He kept the console and games in good condition, and they were still perfectly playable by the time his first child was born (aka me!). Sonic 1 was the first video game I can remember playing at roughly 2-3 years old. I wasn’t good enough to get past Green Hill Act 3 but I loved watching my dad play through the game.

I’ll admit; his playstyle’s a little odd, he avoids speed when he can and instead, he likes to search for as many rings and extra lives as possible, but it was so enjoyable to watch nonetheless. The best bit was whenever he would manage to get all the chaos emeralds in a playthrough and be able to get the good ending. Sure, the only difference between the good and bad endings is just some flowers, but it was nice to see him be happy that he was able to achieve that ending.

And that’s the end of my list! Upon looking over it I realise most of it is either openings or endings to games…oops. I suppose they tend to be parts of games that get special attention during development since they bookend the journey. When I get around to making the second list, I’m sure it’ll have more variety, and as I said before, I’d be very interested in hearing what everyone else’s favourite moments are!

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic forces #sonic unleashed #sonic heroes #sonic generations #long post

6 notes · View notes

crimsondomingo · 4 years

Photo

In honor of @barryallenweek, this being the last day, I am posting an image set and prompt for a potential fic combining all 7 days.

So, this hits Fake Relationship, Time Travel, Online Friends, Coffee Shop, College, Misunderstanding, and Celebrity in some form or another. Maybe I’ll write it out in full someday if there is interest, but for now, here’s:

REWIND

While Barry Allen is going through his divorce, he doesn't blame his wife – ex-wife now – because it isn’t Iris’s fault. It isn’t either of their faults. It had just never been right between them.

Nothing had been right since Barry became the Flash—the most popular superhero ever to get a movie franchise. He’d always wanted to be an actor, but he hadn’t thought much about being famous.

Sometimes he wondered if he would have been better off sticking with theater, smaller scale acting, and stayed in his hometown, working part time at that little coffee shop.

He still remembered the day he was scouted, during college after a big production, approached while making an espresso by an agent who said he was headed for big things if he got the right representation. The agent was right, but sometimes Barry wished he could go back, say “no thanks, I’m not interested in film or TV.” Maybe then he wouldn’t be alone in a big house without any friends or family close enough to him anymore to lean on.

After signing the divorce papers, he spent hours sifting through fan emails, trying to remind himself why he did this. Some made him smile. Others were creepy. A few were just trolls. And far too many would have been inappropriate even for Thirsty Tweets.

But then, just when he was going to call it quits, shaking his head at himself for wasting an entire evening, a new email came in from a familiar name.

Leonard Snart—an old acquaintance from college who Barry hadn’t thought of in years.

Heard about you and Iris. Sorry, Barry. Sometimes the love of your life isn’t who you expect. I always enjoy watching you on the silver screen, but if you’re ever passing through Central, a seat at Jitters has your name on it.

Barry and Len were friends in passing, never close, and more like rivals, since Len had done a little acting too. They were even Romeo and Mercutio senior year, and Len had killed at the Queen Mab speech. Len hadn’t considered pursuing acting though, Barry remembered, because he needed to stick close to home, get a practical job to help support his sister.

Barry and Len had worked at that little coffee shop together, and Barry had always preferred their joint shifts to working with anyone else.

Now, stalking Len a little online, Barry saw what ‘practical’ had amounted to. Len had bought the coffee shop. He owned Jitters now.

And wow, the past decade had done him well. Had he always been that handsome? In college, Barry was so hung up on Iris, he hadn’t noticed anyone else, even though it wasn’t until senior year that they got together.

He remembered that day too, a couple months before the agent showed up, with Iris just suddenly there at the shop flirting with him—blatantly, unmistakably—and after years of pining, Barry had finally asked her out.

It had been a happy memory once, but even more than meeting that agent, that was when everything had started to change. Back home in Central City, at Jitters coffee shop, with Leonard Snart working beside him, and Iris West strolling up to take a seat at the counter, was the moment when everything started going wrong, even if, at the time, Barry had thought it was perfect.

He had no idea how to respond to Len’s email. ‘Thanks’ didn’t seem sufficient, and he couldn’t go to Central City now. He was between shoots, but he didn’t have more than a handful of days set aside for the divorce before he’d be on the press circuit again.

That’s when the questions would start. He couldn’t bear the thought of fielding questions about his failed marriage…

Closing his laptop without responding to the email, Barry slumped into the kitchen and pulled an expensive bottle of scotch from his liquor cabinet. If only he’d realized back then that Iris wasn’t the right choice, he could have saved them both so much heartache. If only he’d never asked her out. If only he’d done everything differently, starting right from that—

“Barry, I’m pretty sure he said with room.”

Barry jumped, nearly sloshing the coffee pot he was holding.

No, he was holding a bottle of scotch.

Wasn’t he?

“Barry?”

“Huh?” Barry could only stare down at his hands, because his kitchen was gone, and so was the scotch. He was holding a coffee pot and had been filling a to-go cup that was nearly to the brim.

Everything seemed so… bright, because it had been dark out a moment ago, and Barry had been in his kitchen—alone.

“Never mind. I got it. Have an all-nighter or something?”

That voice. Images of the owner swirled in Barry’s mind before he finally looked up—at Leonard Snart. He really had always been that handsome, with his close-cropped hair, knowing smirk, and sparkling blue eyes.

Barry kept staring, as Len took the coffee pot and to-go cup out of his hands, carefully dumped a little of the coffee back into the pot, and finished the order to hand to a waiting customer.

This was Jitters, late afternoon, so besides that customer, there wasn’t any line. Barry was working a shift with Len—ten years ago.

Only ten years ago was now.

“Better wake up,” Len said with a crook to that incredibly handsome smirk. “The love of your life just walked in.”

Barry startled again, snapping his attention forward to see Iris coming through the door, looking so different from how he’d last seen her. Not only because she was ten years younger, but she was smiling instead of looking so sad.

“Hey, Barr,” Iris greeted as she took the stool in front of where he was still gaping, unable to move. “You okay? Something on my face, or did I really knock it out of the park with this dress today?” She batted her eyes at him, smiling coyly.

It was today—that day.

“Um… I, uhh…”

Love of your life, Len had said, but all he could think about was Len’s email.

Sometimes the love of your life isn’t who you expect.

“Did you want coffee?” Barry blurted. At least basic coffee and decaf was made from an older coffee maker and kept in pots. If she or anyone else asked for something that required the espresso machine or frother, he had no idea how to use those anymore.

“Latte?” she said.

“I can get it for you, West,” Len offered, nudging Barry not so subtly out of the way—and closer to where Iris sat.

He was being a good friend, encouraging Barry, since Barry had probably spent more of their shifts talking about Iris than actually making drinks, but now…

Now, Barry thought there was a dip to Len’s smirk with Iris’s arrival, despite his friendly nudge.

“Thanks, Snart. So, Barr, you don’t have practice tonight, right? And, knowing you, I bet you don’t have any homework left leading into such a lovely weekend. How were you planning on passing the time?” Iris propped her elbows on the counter and rested her chin in her hand, batting her eyes again, so lovely and dark. “Not working too hard, I hope?”

She was fishing for him to ask her out, leading him there like she had the first time.

This time.

And oh, she was beautiful. She’d always been beautiful, still was in the future, and he loved her, he did. He hoped they’d manage to be friends again someday after the pain wore down, but Iris wasn’t the love of his life. He knew that now.

“I’m… working a little.” Barry snapped his mouth shut after that, unsure what else to say.

Her brow furrowed at her lacking success, but then she smiled again and sat up straighter. “How about I make this easier. Do you want to go out tonight?”

Shit.

He didn’t want to hurt her, he’d never wanted that, but even if he was certain that this was a dream and he was passed out on his kitchen floor, he couldn’t go down the same path twice.

“I can’t.”

“Busy? How about tomorrow night?”

“No, um… I can’t because… because…” Feeling the presence of someone beside him, Barry turned once more to see Len staring at him inquisitively as he held Iris’s finished latte, silently asking with his beautiful blue eyes—what the hell are you doing?

“Because?” Iris pressed.

“I’m going out with Len,” Barry said, and Len’s one raised eyebrow became two reaching for his hairline. “Sorry, Iris.” Barry turned back to her. “I hadn’t gotten around to telling you yet.”

“Oh…” She deflated but perked back up with a wave of her hand. “No big deal. My loss for waiting. You two actually make a lot of sense.” She reached to accept her coffee, but Len didn’t notice, still staring at Barry.

Barry took the cup from him and handed it to her. “On me.”

“Thanks, Barr,” she said and slipped away, seeming happy for the excuse to make scarce.

“Hadn’t gotten around to telling her yet? And when were you going to tell me?”

Barry knew he’d read Len right by the way the crook to his smirk returned. “Want to go out after work?”

Len chuckled, staring for several more seconds as if trying to read something he hadn’t seen in Barry before. Finally, he said, “You’re on.”

#baweek2020 #coldflash #crimson's fics #image set #drabble

83 notes · View notes

aspoonofsugar · 4 years

Text

Children, Adults and In-between

This chapter starts with a father losing all hopes of seeing his daughter again:

And ends with said daughter finally waking up:

All in all, I think this is a fitting choice for a chapter which is once again centered around the relationship between adults and children. And, as per usual, this relationship is not what it should be since the children end up having to take care of the adults’ problems. All in all, this is the root of Annie’s story as well. Annie became a warrior because of his father and in the end it is probably gonna be her the one who goes back to her father and not her father who comes to find her. Basically, Annie is the one who has to be active if she wants to meet her parent again, while said parent has a passive role.

This is true also for another child:

Gabi is one of the most active characters this chapter. The adult who has come to save her is left sleeping, while she goes in search of her loved one. Reiner falling asleep is nothing more than a symbolic representation of his passiveness and it is not the first time that it happens:

During the battle of Liberio Reiner is about to give up and it is only because of Gabi and Falco’s desperate shouting that he stands up and saves Pokko. In this chapter, Gabi lets him sleep differently from what she did in Liberio. This could be because she has now realized how Reiner feels, while in Liberio Falco was the one who had understood it:

That said, it is possible that when Gabi comes back she will finally wake Reiner up and force him to act.

However, for now it is important that Gabi is not giving up, while Reiner has given up:

And this brings us to her parallel with Eren. In this meta I said this about Eren:

On one hand the father-children relationship is a very important one for the series and we have seen that so far children have kept paying for their parents’ mistakes. Eren is a character who is clearly trying to change the system and him embodying the future against the first King (and Rod Reiss) embodying the past is clearly symbolic of this.

Basically, Eren is a child who is challenging the world built by the previous generations and his ability to see the future and to influence the past through memories symbolizes also this, among other things. That said, Eren’s approach is highly destructive. Now, Gabi shares some (okay a lot) of these destructive tendencies:

In this chapter as well, she initially proposes to kill Eren. However, she also recognizes this:

And proposes other solutions:

Basically, as for now, Gabi is trying to walk away from a path made only of violence. And because of this, she is slowly communicating with people and is making important information go from one side to the other. If, as I think, we will finally see some kind of alliance to stop Eren, then it would be interesting if this alliance is born because of both Eren and Gabi. Eren can be the common enemy who unifies the world, and Gabi can contribute to the overcoming of the rift between the two sides, if only just a little. We will see what happens.

What is more, one of the most important themes is stated directly once again:

@thisworldgodonlyknows has already written a great meta on this exchange among Kaya, Gabi and Nicolo and I had talked about the forest metaphor here, so I won’t repeat myself.

What is important is that Nicolo, Gabi and Kaya have all grown and Nicolo especially is becoming a “man like Mr Braus”. He is able to encourage and guide two lost kids asking difficult questions about themselves and the world. In short, he is acting as an adult should and it is not by chance that after the metaphor of the forest comes back we have this scene:

Here we have another adult who is acting like one and who is protecting the kids under his care. This scene is another scene of reconcilitaion, but this time we don’t have two children who have hurt each other and an adult who has hurt one of them, but an adult who was hurt by the kids, but who is still there to protect them.

So, we have children growing up and adults acting like adults, but the problem is that the majority of our main characters is an in-between. The 104th are simply refusing to grow up by this point and this is why they fail to make any game-changing choice. This is made clear by this exchange:

It is not by chance that both Jean and Connie are willing to sacrifice a child to have back an authority-parental figure aka someone who can tell them what to do and can make them feel secure.

In short, Jean and Connie’s negative reactions this chapter are born by the same fear of growing up. Moreover, their reactions are rooted in their own personality-flaws.

Connie’s reaction is an emotive one because througout the arc he has kept repressing his negative feelings. Tbh it is probable that him repressing his negativity is something which goes way back:

Connie has been suffering a lot because of what happened to his mother, but we have seen very little of this suffering up until now and the moment he tried to express some of his anger in the past he immediately went back on what he said. What I mean is that up until now Connie has processed his grief alone and it is implied that Sasha was a big help for him:

It is clear that for him the 104th are a family and so the moment this new-found family loses another member and risks to break up because of inner tensions he goes back to his mother hoping to bring back what he lost. However, he can’t and must accept it. In a sense, he is probably going through a process similar to the one Nicolo experienced and, just like before, Falco is the one put at risk by this. I doubt Connie will follow through with his plan especially because Falco’s situation is similar to his mother’s.

As far as Jean is concerned, it is as if he is somehow back to his old habit of choosing the easy way out. He is somehow conveying te thought process of a relatively normal person. He is in a conflict much larger than him and there is the chance that this conflict will be solved in a positive way for both him and his loved ones without him having to do anything. What right does he have to consider Eren’s method wrong if it brings results? Hasn’t he learnt that sometimes cruelty is necessary in order to win? In short, Jean’s stance is probably born both by the horror of the situation and by him trying to figure out what is right and where he should draw the line between what must be done and what must be avoided. That said, Jean has already shown clear signs of strongly disliking what is happening, despite his unwillingness to fight Eren:

Jean states that the rest of the world is being destroyed because they were not able to let go of their prejudices and that in this way his loved ones are going to be safe. However, his little moment with Onyankopon already shows that this isn’t true. Onyankopon is a person who earnestly tried to help him and Paradis and his country is going to be destroyed as well. He is Jean’s friend and him and the other volunteers are gonna suffer.

As far as Mikasa and Armin are concerned, it is interesting that they find themselves with Gabi again and so they are once again confronted with this mini-Eren who is asking their help to save a loved one and who is repeating what they themselves know. She is telling them that it is not necessary to destroy the world and that there are other ways to use the power of the coordinate. I think that it is impossible for Mikasa and Armin not to see Eren (and so a little bit of their past) in Gabi. Hopefully, this meeting will motivate them to act soon.

Armin in this chapter has already made clear that he thinks Eren is going too far and has tried to protect Falco and to find ways to avoid unnecessary conflicts with the Marleyans, but he is being too timid about it. As @hamliet said here, it is possible Annie’s return will force Armin to become more active especially because by this time Annie and his arcs are clearly tied.

This chapter also gave us more foreshadowing of Armin eventually becoming a leader:

It is clear that he will have to succeed Erwin and hopefully this will happen soon.

Mikasa too has subtly shown that she is growing stronger:

The chapter has conveyed it through her foiling with Yelena. Yelena frozes when she realizes Zeke is not in control and that things are not going according to his plan. She is so dull she can barely react, but Mikasa, despite what Eren is doing, is perfectly able to move and to protect the other soldiers. It is clear who between the two is the blinded follower and who is her own person.

In conclusion, I would like to highlight how Eren’s actions are already “symbolically” destroying people self-defense mechanisms and obliterating the barriers among people:

Eren has undone all the hardening and so we have Reiner and Annie losing the armors/crystal they were using to protect themselves. This means they will have to face others and to overcome their isolation. Similarly, the barriers among people are starting to fall just like the Walls which have isolated Paradis from the world. Because of this, we have seen some relationships being mendled and some communication happening between the two sides.

#snk 124 #snk #snk meta #gabi braun #104th trainee corps #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #jean kirschtien #connie springer #my meta

328 notes · View notes