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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 6 months

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i love you, i love you (kill me in the morning) ; suguru geto

synopsis; everyone has a weakness. some are harder to get rid of. (or, alternatively; suguru geto befriends a non-sorcerer as a child.)

word count; 10.0k

contents; suguru geto/reader (not explicitly romantic but the subtext is there), gn!reader, geto-typical angst, childhood friends to [redacted], mild gore, suguru geto’s defection but with added angst, twisted depictions of love, depictions of stalking, depictions of death/murder, general bloodlust (geto wants to kill u soo bad but also not really), unresolved yearning, hurt/no comfort, curse user geto is his own warning tbh

a/n; ok so. this is kind of a mess. just my own take on geto’s childhood and defection + how i think he’d deal with a non-sorcerer reader after defecting……. so it turned out kinda. Dark. it’s entirely sfw to be clear!!! just sorta twisted. in conclusion i love my cult leader wife who wants me dead <3 (pls listen to ’kill me’ by indigo de souza it is SO geto)

suguru geto meets you in the afterglow of sunset, by a dusty summer creek.

it’s his special place, hidden in the outskirts of your tiny town; a place where the water glimmers with silver-hued fish, and all the biggest cicadas reside, singing softly and waiting to be caught.

a place where he can be himself. alone, with no one to curse him.

— except, this time, he isn’t alone.

your crying face is the first thing he sees. big, wet tears, cascading down your scrunched-up face, accompanied by little sniffles as you sit there. curled up into a ball, knees against your heaving chest.

the next thing he sees is the bruise on your leg. a scrape on your knee, gritty and a little bloody, but it’s not so awful. he can tell that it hurts, though — you bite your lip to stop yourself from trembling, like you’re trying to be brave. but you look pained.

and it sends a tremor running through his very soul.

suguru was born with a bleeding heart, an empathy unusually developed for his age. always pushing him forward, coaxing him into taking action; this nagging desire to protect, to nurture. born with an inability to avert his gaze from the suffering of others.

so when the two of you lock eyes, he manages a smile. warm and soothing, even though deep down he’s alarmed. but he masks it, slathers over it with something kind, something comforting — and he can tell that it works, from the way your teary eyes seem to soften in the buttery hue of the afternoon glow.

you’re crying. and suguru finds himself wanting to wipe those tears away, more than anything. you look small, and you’re in pain.

(protect the weak, urges some voice in the back of his mind. insatiable. protect those who can’t protect themselves.)

he asks for your name, all while cleaning your wound. the wince that slips from your lips when the cold water of the creek licks at your knee makes his heart clench.

but you tell him. you tell him your name, as the sun sets in the horizon, and he tells you his.

suguru. a sweet kid who sees you fall and patches you up. a cool kid who teases you a little for being so clumsy. who holds your hand tightly in his own, to make sure you won’t fall again.

the sun melts away beyond the cluster of trees that surround you, its burning glow breaking through the gaps between the branches and dyeing the summer creek a deep red. illuminating your blurry silhouettes, as you walk back home. hand in hand.

and that’s how it begins.

the two of you grow closer, in the same way flowers who share a stem learn to lean on each other, grow in the same direction, a mess of mingled roots. a natural connection, blooming out of nothing more than a sweet coincidence — that kind of blissful, innocent childhood friendship. the kind you never have to question.

you learn very quickly that suguru isn’t like the rest. that when compared to all the other kids you know, he’s mature, almost mystical, like he knows something they don’t.

you learn that there’s a gentleness to him, one he could never fully hide. one that shines through when he looks at you, when you play and laugh to fill the silence of the hills overlooking the small town you both live in.

you also learn that he can see ghosts.

curses, you’ll both come to learn, but that’s later. for a child in a remote town, isolated and alone, the familiarity of the ghost stories that adults tell you is the only kind of comfort suguru has to cling to. something lighthearted, to explain the predicament that haunts him — the flickers of black in his vision, that lingering taste of charcoal on his tongue.

suguru is different, you realize, different from the rest. and you eventually learn, from him, that you are far from alone in that belief.

in the town you both had the misfortune of being born into, suguru is the black sheep. his parents think there’s something wrong with him. the other kids think there’s something wrong with him. he isn’t right in the head, they whisper, he sees things that aren’t there.

(it’s a debilitating isolation that never truly leaves him.)

so suguru learns to stay silent, learns to keep his pretty little mouth shut, learns to lie. it’s easier that way. easier to survive, in the remoteness of your tiny town, with all the adults who scorn him and look at him like he doesn’t belong anywhere at all.

and suguru learns to be content, in that solitude. that heaven-granted isolation. a lone white chrysanthemum, in a sea of red and lavender; blossoming alone.

but then suguru meets you.

and, contrary to everyone else, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with him. when you tell him that he’s different from the rest, you mean it in the best possible way. you say it with starlight in your eyes, gleeful, giddy. like he’s special, not broken. like you’re also tired of those other kids, those sneering adults, the silence of a town so isolated it could crush a child’s heart.

like you have something in common. like you’re the same.

and you stay by his side. throughout the most difficult years of his early life, when he’s still growing accustomed to the duty he’ll have to bear for the rest of his life, you’re there. every single day. to smile at him, to speak to him like you’re both just normal kids — even though suguru is well aware that he’s anything but normal.

(when he’s with you, he feels like it, though. feels like he’s just a normal boy, like there isn’t something glued down wrong inside his brain. something twisted, something that needs to be plucked out.)

suguru finds comfort in you. in your presence, in the notes you pass him when classes get boring, in the way you cling to his sleeve while exploring the woods during recess. in the way you grin so brightly after managing to catch a firefly in the darkness of the summer night, all proud and toothy, a childlike innocence he wishes he still had.

you’re sweet, and understanding, and suguru thinks you might be the coolest person he knows. you’re his friend, his very best friend, his one and only.

and when he tells you what’s wrong with him — when he tells you what he can see — you ask him something that will forever rest in his subconscious. a flicker of precious, fleeting, genuine acceptance, one he won’t ever feel again. not until he meets a certain boy with blue eyes, but that comes later.

(a memory he’ll return to, over and over again. even after all the evil in the world has already descended upon him like a crackling hurricane.)

what do they look like?

there is no judgement in your voice, in the way the question slips from your lips. no mocking laughter, no silent rejection or whisper of crazy, evil, wrong. there’s only you, the way you’ve always been, curious and understanding and wise beyond your years.

suguru decides, right then and there, that he’ll protect you forever. no matter what.

you can’t see curses. you aren’t like him, in that regard, and he learns that quickly. and as suguru grows up, grows a little taller, a little wiser, he is glad that it’s true. he’s glad, because he already knows what kind of road lies ahead of him.

he already knows what kind of world you both live in, how unforgiving it can be. how many people die every day, every second, because of monsters only a select few can even see. he already knows that curses aren’t the eccentric, silly ghosts you were hoping for when you were kids — but pure, unadulterated evil.

(he already knows what they taste like.)

and suguru takes careful measures, day by day, to keep you away from it. as much as he can without lying outright. you’re curious, by nature, almost fascinated by curses and sorcery and everything you do not understand. an endearing trait, though it exasperates him to no end.

someone like you has no business sticking their nose into that kind of cruelty, he thinks, that kind of bloodshed.

and you’ve always been clumsy, a little scatterbrained. enough to make him worry instinctively when you’re out of his sight. like when you tripped and scraped your knee, by that tiny summer creek, all because you wanted to catch a dragonfly.

so he tries his best to keep you away from it, all of it, away from a darkness he knows would swallow you whole. away from the small, weak curses that sometimes litter the woods or the schoolyard; away from his cursed technique, the disgust of a power he never once asked for.

(he never lets you see him swallow those things, never lets you witness the way he throws them right back up again before it happens so many times that he grows used to the disgust. you’re sharp, though, and he can’t hide the grimace that always lingers on his features.

you don’t ask — you only give him a packet of gum, to chew away the taste with, and suguru thinks to himself that he’ll love you forever.)

time passes by, slowly but surely, and the two of you stick together.

and as he grows into his teenage years, so much weight already resting on his tiny shoulders, suguru has already developed some sense of it all. of his ability, of the world of sorcerers. he’s already spoken to people like him, has already been made well aware of his potential.

he’s already been given a choice, a choice that was never really a choice at all, but he decides that it doesn’t matter.

suguru decides to become a sorcerer. to train his abilities, to hone his skills. to eventually move away, from the stifling silence of that town, the silence that was only ever filled by you.

and suguru thinks to himself that he’s doing this for you. that in doing this, in being this, he’ll fulfill his promise to protect you.

(forever. no matter what. he echoes the words in his mind like a prayer.)

suguru wants to protect those who cannot protect themselves. those who are weak, those who are alone, people he has the power to help.

but more than anything, above all else, suguru wants to protect you.

you are the most precious thing in his life. and if he can turn the world a little brighter for you, just a little bit kinder, then isn’t that enough? isn’t there enough meaning in that to give him the strength he needs?

there is. suguru decides that there is.

so when he tells you about his plans, under a pleasant, ephemeral starry sky, he does so with conviction. he knows that you will understand, because he knows you. you’re his best friend.

and he’s right. you do understand. you’re proud of him, and he’s your best friend, too.

i’ll support you, no matter what.

the instantaneous answer makes suguru smile. not the kind of smile he plasters on to appease the adults around him, nor the smile he wears when he needs to lie convincingly. a full, genuine smile, that reaches his eyes and blossoms like a flower in the light of the moon; a warm, gentle smile, one you’ll always, always associate with him.

(forever and ever. no matter what.)

and when suguru eventually has to leave, for a high school he’ll spend the next few years of his life living at, he carries that conviction with him. his choice is steadfast, unyielding, inevitable. the only one that matters.

the whistling of the wind breaches his ears, as you both stand on the platform and wait for his train to arrive. a spring breeze caresses your skin, and suguru’s bangs flutter in the wind. sunlight scatters across the train tracks and seagulls cry out in the distance, and the acute sensation of a parting lies heavy in the air.

it’s embarrassing. it’s childish. suguru wants to claim that he isn’t a child, anymore; that he wouldn’t give in to hesitation, at the sight of your meek expression. that he wouldn’t cry, at the thought of moving away from his best friend.

but the slight puffiness under his eyes is evidence enough. evidence of the tears he shed last night, when the reality of the situation finally dawned on him.

suguru doesn’t want to part from you. he’s nervous, too — leaving you alone in that town, all by yourself, with no one around to protect you properly.

it's stupid. because deep down, he knows that you’ll escape too. that you’ll come after him, no matter how long it takes, that'll you'll both end up in tokyo. that you'll end up together, despite his duty as a sorcerer — eating soft serve ice cream cones, playing shooting games at the arcade, strolling around the big city aimlessly. doing all those things you always talked about doing.

because the two of you will always, always find your way back to each other. just like how he found you with that bruise on your leg, all those years ago, a fated encounter as natural as the glow of sunset. two lone dragonflies, who always meet somewhere in the middle of a dusty summer creek.

still, suguru can’t help but feel sad. a little lost. he can only hope you don’t notice the soft frown on his face, the faint redness of his eyes.

(then again, when have you ever not noticed something he was trying to hide?)

there's no need to worry about it, suguru knows. he’s never had to worry about you judging him, looking down on him. never you.

and when his gaze falls on your face, after the train he’s supposed to board screeches to a halt behind him, your own tears are enough to make him realize how silly he’s being.

he laughs, from the bottom of his stomach, when you tackle him into a hug and tell him with teary eyes that you’ll come visit. he squeezes you especially tight, in a boyish fashion he can never quite hide from you, and murmurs into your ear that he’ll be waiting.

he asks you not to forget him. you laugh through your tears, and tell him that you never could.

before he has to let go and step into the train, you tell him that you love him, and his grin blooms with honeyed affection. he ruffles your hair, always gentle, always teasing, always the same suguru.

he tells you that he loves you, too.

— then he’s gone.

(you’ll forever regret not convincing him to stay.)

the two of you stay in contact, all throughout his first year. texting, calling — making sure neither of you get the chance to forget the other. suguru tells you about his life, his missions, his classmates, leaving out all the gritty details. and you listen; attentive, curious.

at one point, you even visit him. his friends tease him relentlessly, but all he does is roll his eyes and flick their foreheads, biting back a smile. that makes you laugh, and he’s relieved that the sound hasn’t changed in the slightest.

and suguru stays the same, throughout that one first year. he is steadfast, unyielding, decisive. he has a conviction he’ll never let go of, and people he's vowed to protect. people he needs to protect.

(non-sorcerers, is what he tells satoru, and he means it. but suguru chooses to omit the fact that he specifically wants to protect one single non-sorcerer, above all else.)

and suguru is happy, with his choice. thoroughly and wholly. the road ahead of him will be long, full of obstacles and thorns, but he always knew that would be the case. and he knows that it’ll hurt, that it’ll be tough, but he also knows that this is what he sincerely wants to do. what he was meant to do. the only choice worth making.

suguru is content. suguru will not falter.

— then, his second year descends upon him.

riko amanai dies. toji fushiguro dies.

satoru gojo becomes the strongest sorcerer of the modern era.

(and suguru geto is left behind.)

it is a slow, sinking realization. one whole year to lose sight of his goal, lose sight of the conviction he held onto so tightly. one whole year to feel it slip through the gaps between his fingers, helpless to stop its course. everything grows muddled, molding, rotting before he has a chance to root it out — and all he can do is wait, as it festers like bile in the bottom of his gut.

suguru geto falters.

(he doesn’t quite know who he is, anymore.)

words he’s swallowed down like curses all his life keep flooding his subconscious, building up inside the back of his throat, spinning and spinning and spinning inside his brain until he feels sick enough to throw up. evil. crazy. protection. responsibility.

duty, duty, duty —

(what does that word even mean?)

suguru doesn’t remember. he can’t recall what made him step onto that train with such conviction, how he was able to smile so assuredly. how he was able to laugh, from the very bottom of his gut, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. he just can't remember.

who is he doing this for? what meaning lies in all this pain?

suguru keeps watching, hoping for an answer that’ll save him just enough. waiting and watching. he’s always just watching, isn’t he? never changing anything. always too late, too weak, too fucking useless to stop even a single person from dying.

he watches helplessly as a little girl gets shot in the head, for the crime of having been born different, for the sake of simple currency. watches helplessly as satoru carries her lifeless body in his arms, across a room full of people so vile that some deep, rotten, intrinsic part of suguru just wants to —

but there would be no meaning to it.

(does there really need to be one?)

suguru honestly doesn’t know, anymore.

riko dies.

(curses spring up like flies. he devours and devours.)

then haibara dies, too.

(in the distance, he thinks he hears the sound of clapping.)

sorcerers. non-sorcerers. curses.

the words begin to rot inside his mouth, like wilted flowers, syrupy sweet and nauseating. crumbling on his tongue, numbing his senses until it’s all he can taste. a mouthful of honey, sticking to the walls of his throat, too sweet to stomach.

this is wrong, he thinks. everything is all wrong.

everything is wrong and i don’t know how to fix it.

— and then there’s you.

during your third year, both of you are busier than usual, but still find the time to talk when you can. the normalcy of your little stories is a comfort, to suguru — but also makes him burn with something he fears may be close to envy.

you tell him about your new school, your new town, your new beginning; bright and dazzling. one that suits you just fine.

the two of you are different, he realizes, all at once. some part of him always knew. you were born to be happy, kept away from the bloodshed, hands unsullied by the deep red that always dries beneath his fingernails. there was never a place for you in the world of curses. and he’s glad, that it’s true, he always has been, but —

(resentment festers in his gut. he can’t tell how long it’s been there, and he’s afraid to know the answer.)

these days, suguru takes a little longer to answer your texts. his voice comes out sounding a little more fatigued when he’s speaking to you through the phone, and he doesn’t talk as much as he used to. your voice soothes him, though, he thinks. just a tiny bit. but it’s enough.

(he’s doing this for you, too. he can’t forget that.)

and when you come to visit him, during his third year, suguru is surprised. surprised to see you, standing outside of his dorm, bags full of his favorite snacks in hand. smiling.

you look the same as always.

(he’s the only one who’s changed.)

it’s a pleasant surprise, though, despite everything. he really did miss you. in his life, your presence alone has been nothing but a comfort, for as long as he can remember. even now, when everything feels so blurry and uncertain, you appear to him as a flicker of starlight; shining through the darkness that’s been plaguing him for the past year.

so he tries to smile, tries to sound the same as always, but he knows you don’t buy it. you know because you know him, despite everything.

suguru wonders what you would think of him, if you could hear the thoughts he’s been having these past few weeks. he wonders what he looks like, reflected in your eyes. he wonders how much he’s changed since you last saw him.

(he hasn’t felt like himself in months.)

your presence is like a balm, to his soul, but it also seeks to hurt him further. because you’re still the same. still so understanding and wise and patient. you can tell that he’s fading, and he can tell that you can tell. but he doesn’t want to tell you why. he refuses to open up to you, because what would that accomplish? how could you possibly understand?

how could you understand his hatred, his resentment, towards the very people he’s supposed to protect? he told you that, himself. he decided to protect them, on his own accord. that’s his duty — steadfast, unyielding, inevitable. that’s all it was ever meant to be.

protect the weak. protect the ugly. protect everyone except his comrades, until all of them lie dead in a pile of maggots and tangly limbs and buzzing flies.

a bitter, heavy kind of vomit settles inside his chest, his throat. and somewhere deep inside suguru’s mind, in the very bottom of a drawer he vowed never to open, the image of non-sorcerers shifts, distorts, flickers on and off under the light.

protect those monkeys until his very last breath.

(what a fucking joke.)

you couldn’t understand. he doesn’t want you to. he promised himself that he would keep you away from that kind of darkness, no matter what, and —

and you’re the only good thing he has left.

not only that — you’re a non-sorcerer, too. and suguru knows what that means. if what his brain is telling him is true, if that’s really how it is, then you are no exception. then you’re just like the rest, something lesser, nothing but a —

(he thinks he might throw up.)

suguru does not tell you anything. despite everything, despite your pleading expression, despite the heavy bile at the bottom of his gut. he does not tell you what is truly wrong. he does not open up to you.

and that is suguru’s first act of betrayal, to you. before he even betrays the jujutsu world.

(it is perhaps the only betrayal he’ll ever feel any kind of remorse over.)

you try, though. persistent in your affection. he loathes how little you’ve changed, how brightly you still shine when reflected in his eyes. you sit right next to him, under a pleasant, ephemeral starry sky, stars blurred by the light pollution, and tell him what you always have.

i’ll support you, no matter what.

…

suddenly, all he can hear is the whooshing of the sea. as if he's been pulled underwater, a heavy weight tugging at his limbs, lungs gasping for air that doesn't exist. pure static, in his ears, a sharp crack of something. like a rib, or a train of thought. all he can taste is saltwater.

the dam begins to break. it cracks at the edges, like two giddy children poking a stick into a puddle layered with ice, giggling at their scattered reflections. memories resurfacing, images flashing in his subconscious. suguru looks at you like he’s lost. something inside of him breaks, disintegrates into a pile of despair.

because you don’t understand what you’re telling him. you don’t understand what he thinks about doing, sometimes, when the nights are especially long and the school is especially empty and the taste of curses lies especially thick on his tongue.

you don’t understand. you never will.

but you’re smiling at him, so very gentle. so accepting, so all-encompassing of everything that’s good, everything worth cherishing. just like always.

suguru recalls your teary face; when you scraped your knee, when he left that town behind. he recalls all the ways you’ve soothed him, saved him, in all the years you’ve known him.

i’ll definitely come visit. i love you.

i’ll support you, no matter what.

what do they look like?

— suguru falters. these days, that’s all he ever seems to do.

how could he hate non-sorcerers, when you’re among them? how could he hate a world that has you in it?

(he can’t, he can’t, he can’t. he can’t hate you. not you.)

the words that spill so very easily from your lips break him. he can’t tell if you’ve mended the damage, or only worsened it. he can’t tell where the jagged hole inside his chest ends and begins. he can only tell that it’s extending, extending, extending.

suguru wants to fall apart. he wants to fall apart, for only you to see, because you’ve always been the only one who could ever understand. the only one who wouldn’t turn your eyes away from him, even back then. the only, only one. the only other white chrysanthemum.

he wants so desperately to be honest with you, to let every dark thought he’s ever had flow out from his lips. for you to hear, for you to scorn or to accept at your leisure, doom him or bless him, a bleeding dog at your feet. to get rid of the tangled mess of thoughts inside his muddled mind — to just let go of everything, even if it’s only for a minute or two. just a second would be fine.

suguru wants to drag you down with him. drag you down into the depths, into the abyss, to share the weight of his suffering. so that you can be together, just like you always have; through thick and thin. always and forever.

but he doesn’t.

(and what a betrayal that is.)

suguru keeps his pretty little mouth shut, and he gives you a smile. a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, the kind he always wears when he needs to lie convincingly.

he could tell you so many things. could ruin you completely, take you down with him. hand in hand, staining your unsullied skin with the blood on his own. into the gaping maw.

but at the end of the day, he chooses not to.

suguru chooses your peace of mind over his, just like he always has, and feeds you a vague half-truth. not quite a lie, but something that ignores the underlying question of your statement, a silent plea for sincerity. something deep and true, but almost sorrowful.

i know, he says.

i know you will.

the moment does not save him. but suguru does feel just a little more hopeful, a little less like he’s slowly rotting from the inside out. a little less like he’s completely and utterly alone, isolated in his agony.

you are the same as always. and what a relief that is.

(for you, he can wade through the hell for just a little longer.)

when it’s time to say your goodbyes, suguru can tell you aren’t satisfied. that you wish you could do more. but he also knows that you won’t push it, because you’ve always respected him in a way no one else ever cares enough to do.

before you leave, you tell him that you love him. in a quiet voice, a whisper, as if trying to squeeze some sincerity from his chest — a last-ditch attempt at reaching him. he squeezes your hand, instead, and doesn’t say it back.

suguru just smiles, flimsy, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

you look like you want to say something, but you don’t.

and he watches you go, with forlorn eyes, until the dot that is you gets too small to distinguish from the darkness of the night. until he can almost delude himself into thinking that you’ve turned into a star. he watches you go as if trying to burn the sight into his memory, as if this is the last time he’ll ever see you.

(the curse of i love you rots in his mouth, unspoken, unvoiced.)

two weeks later, suguru stands in front of a cage, covered in blood.

the girls in front of him, skinny, frail, crying — beaten and exhausted — look at him like he’s a god. him, pale, smiling, with blood staining his white uniform, bathed in moonlight —

like some kind of angel of death.

suguru soaks up the metallic scent of the room, basks in that sickeningly sweet feeling of release. he soothes the girls, as best he can. he leads them away, careful not to let them see the bodies.

(there isn’t much left of them, anyhow.)

suguru geto makes his choice. the only choice that matters.

he will twist himself into a curse. he will devour his ideal, until it’s all that’s left of him. he will embody it, become it, through and through. it’s fine if he dies in the process, it’s fine if everyone dies — just as long as it means something.

that is the conviction he will carry with him. the decision to only ever see the line between ends and means, the bright light at the end of a never-ending tunnel.

the blood of an entire village is on his hands.

(a part of him wants to throw up. another grins with ecstasy. every part agrees that it was inevitable.)

their screams weren’t beautiful. they were aggravating, revolting, the wretched buzzing of bugs ringing like static in his ears. but it felt good. it felt just. something in his bones settling into its rightful place, a spark of affirmation.

and suguru doesn’t stop there. as if desperate for the cup to finally run over, to make sure that there truly is no going back, his feet take him to a place he always hoped he’d never have to see again.

when suguru returns to that stiflingly silent town, to kill his parents, you are no longer there.

it’s not a surprise. he knows you escaped, long ago, just like him — just like you always said you would. not quite to tokyo, to your grave disappointment, but you managed to find some other town to live in. bigger, better. the new beginning he always hoped you’d get.

suguru does not want to think of you. he doesn't want to remember your face, the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes shone in the light. he wants to erase every single trace of your existence from his memory, if only to protect you from the person he will soon become. or perhaps only to spare himself the heartache of it all.

but when he passes by that one summer creek, forgetting you becomes an impossibility.

his eyes gaze at the silver-hued fish, sparkling beneath the moonlight, the big cicadas singing sadly under the shadows of the trees. he closes his eyes, and breathes in the solitude, and recalls a child with teary eyes.

suguru knows what school you go to. he knows what your town is called, what your street looks like.

and it is far, far away from the town he’s in. far from tokyo, too.

— and suguru is relieved.

(it gives him an excuse not to hunt you down just yet.)

the sight of his childhood home stirs no fondness in his heart. it is empty, it is silent, it is the same as always. and now it doesn’t even have you in it, anymore.

so it doesn’t matter.

suguru moves on with conviction, with bloodstains scattered across his clothes, seeping into the fabric. the screams of his parents don’t mean anything — they blur together with old echoes of evil, crazy, wrong.

(there is something wrong with that child.)

their blood sticks to the soles of his shoes and he is repulsed by their fragility. their blood stains his shirt and he is elated by the irony of it all. all he sees is a blur of red.

the road before him becomes clear.

finally, there truly is no turning back. that one sliver of good still left in him, crushed beneath the heel of his boot. at last. homicide, patricide — the more he adds, the easier it’ll be. easier to distance himself, easier to convince himself that his choice matters. that the blood of mere animals is a small price to pay for the future he envisions.

that he is right. that he is just.

(self-affirmation. what a holy thing it is.)

there is still much left for him to do. so suguru leaves the town behind.

he leaves that tiny summer creek behind.

it is a premature death; a resignation of identity. he isn’t an adult, not yet, but he has long since stopped being a child. he stopped being a child the moment he saw a bullet go through the skull of an innocent girl, the moment he saw haibara’s ghostly pale skin. no sorcerers stay children for very long.

none of it matters, anymore.

time passes with a speed that’s almost frightening.

suguru disappears, almost entirely faded, leaving only geto in his wake. a new person, an entirely different human being — ten years of living in an echo chamber, ten years of forming his personality in the shape of something twisted.

(something almost divine.)

and geto is right. just. geto has conviction, and that’s all he needs. everything goes according to plan; geto has a goal, and a family to pursue that goal with, to pursue that goal for. everything finally feels just right. breathing feels a lot easier. living feels a lot easier.

but everyone has a weakness.

and there is one thing, only one thing, that still acts as a thorn in his side. something that holds him back, a stain yet to be wiped away, a piece of gum stuck to the sole of his shoe. a tattered memory, clinging to his subconscious as if haunting him.

(i’ll support you, no matter what.)

if only you could see him now.

when geto left his old life behind, he did not contact you. he did not say goodbye. he threw away his phone, deleted every single thing that someone could use to locate him with, and left. he hasn’t heard from you in years, hasn’t spoken to you.

but he has seen you.

geto knows where your town is. what your apartment looks like. he knows what university you go to, where your go-to café is located.

so resisting the temptation eventually becomes impossible.

he tries not to think of you, he really does. he tries to act like you are nothing, to him, because you aren’t. you are proof of weakness and a fragility that geto loathes, proof of his own foolishness, his young naivety. you are everything he hates and everything rotten and everything he’s vowed to cleanse from the earth.

but, despite that undeniable truth, geto cannot help but seek you out.

he tells himself that it means nothing. that he’s only doing it to make sure he knows where he’s got you, like a predator watching over their prey, preparing to lunge out of hiding when the moment is right. because geto knows that your death, at his hands, is inevitable. what you are is a weakness, a connection that lingers on his skin like a mold, one he still has to the creatures that disgust him so.

so it’s inevitable.

in reality, he should have killed you first. before his parents, before the village — he should have killed you, because that would have solidified his devotion in a way nothing else ever could. but he didn’t.

geto likes to think of it as a symbol, of sorts. that he’ll save you for last. the same way children eat every last part of the cake, greedily, before gulping down the strawberry. every single non-sorcerer will be dead by the time he gets to you. you’ll be the one remaining obstacle, the one final stain to rinse away before his dream becomes reality, the one thing still standing between him and the divinity he seeks.

it is an honour, geto thinks, an honour he would not bestow to anyone but you.

but until that time comes, all he can do is watch over you. silently, so you don’t notice. always from afar, sometimes through the eyes of the curses he’s bound to. just to make sure that you’re still alive. that you haven’t tripped over your shoelaces and gotten yourself into a car accident, or gulped down a mouthful of food too fast and choked to death, or anything similarly pathetic. he wouldn’t put it past you. really, he has no idea how you’ve survived this long without him.

weak, fragile, clumsy. soft enough to sink his teeth into. you are everything that geto hates. you are nothing, nothing at all.

(and you are the same as always, despite everything. what an aggravation that’s become.)

he watches you, anyway; like a god finding amusement in his creations, an omniscient overseer watching you stumble day to day. he watches as you live your life, as you talk to other people with that familiar smile on your face. it hasn’t changed in the slightest.

he watches you laugh, watches you grab a crêpe from a street vendor, watches you cry when you think nobody is there to see.

(the sight sends a tremor running through his soul, one he desperately wants to pretend not to feel.)

on melancholic summer days, when the sun paints the sky pink and golden, he watches you clutch onto his old sweater. one you always said you were going to return, but never did — never got the chance to. you used to tell him it was too comfortable not to steal. that it smelled like him, that it made you feel less lonely. geto so tenderly wishes he could have forgotten those words, by now.

but he watches you, in the solitude of your apartment, as you bury your face in the wool and inhale the fading tinge of his old cologne. then you cry and cry, like a child, until the moon rises in the sky; until you’re breathing softly, lulled to sleep by his scent.

(geto thinks to himself that you are a fool, to still miss him after all these years.)

it’s not an everyday occasion. most days, he does not think of you. there are many other monkeys to kill, many things to discuss. there’s money to be made, plans to be forged, wars to be brewed. geto is a busy man. a family man, no less.

but when boredom is all he can feel, he still finds himself seeking you out. just to make sure no one has gotten to you before him. just a god enjoying the struggles of a lesser being.

that’s all it is, geto tells himself. that’s all it’ll ever be, from now on.

no one needs to know if he spends the occasional morning checking up on you, curious if you did well on that exam you were studying for. no one needs to know if he absorbs the curses that sometimes cling to your fragile skin, gulping them down before they cause too much damage. no one needs to know if anyone who gives you a little too much trouble suddenly disappears off the face of the earth.

no one needs to know if he reminisces, every once in a while, when the summer nostalgia is too much to bear. about your childhood, about that question you asked him — a million years ago, back when the center of his universe was a single summer creek.

(no one needs to know if he finds comfort in your presence, even now.)

on days when the moon hangs low in the sky, and geto can’t choke back the longing in his chest, he sits by your bed and watches you sleep. a forlorn expression on his face, lips stuck in a tight line. it’s risky, careless, but he’s helpless to the temptation.

most nights, you lie perfectly still. so still he can almost delude himself into thinking that it’s over, that you’ve passed on, that he won’t have to kill you after all. sometimes you twist and turn, mumble something unintelligible under your breath that he doesn’t catch.

he wonders what you dream about. he wonders if you ever have nightmares, if they’re ever about him. he wonders why he even cares at all.

geto resents you. resents you for existing, for smiling every day, for being a bridge between him and lesser creatures. he resents you, resents you, resents you.

(self-affirmation. what a holy thing, indeed.)

— he could kill you so easily.

he wouldn’t even need a curse to do it. a flick of his pinkie would be more than enough. that’s how fragile you are; asleep, right in front of him, breathing softly while he watches you like how the fox watches the lamb.

(he could end all of this, right now, in the silence of the night. in your most vulnerable state.)

and yet, geto allows the opportunity to pass him by.

he can’t get too greedy. that’s what he tells himself, as he slips out of your window in the dead of night, leaving your sleeping figure behind him. it’s not the right time. he can let you sleep, for just a little while longer. the bags under your eyes have looked especially heavy, recently.

(he tries not to remember the sleepover you had as kids, when he stayed perfectly still as you dozed off on his shoulder. doing his best not to wake you, watching you fondly until the sun began to rise. back when all he wanted was to protect you.)

geto knows that you know he’s not dead. he knows because he’s almost certain that satoru spoke to you, back then, even if he probably didn’t let you in on any details. because he knows that you’re sharp, sharp enough to know that he’s alive.

and even if that were not the case, geto knows because he’s sent you gifts. letters. absentminded, almost taunting, cruel in their joviality — always anonymous, always mysterious and vague and impossible to trace back to him. but he knows that you know who they’re from.

a little dance, if you will. geto haunts you like a ghost. he never lets you see him, but he lets you know that he’s there, sometimes. just out of frame.

he can only hope it’ll eventually haunt you to death.

(if it ends up as a comfort to you, instead, then, well — it is what it is.)

all of it is a safety measure in disguise. a way to satisfy the yearning inside his chest, without coming too close. that doesn’t mean he never falters, though.

every once in a while, he feels strangely compelled to talk to you. to waltz into your home, in a lighthearted fashion, to soak up your shocked expression. to ask how you’ve been, casually, and watch you stammer, stumble over your words — he can imagine the face you’d make, the way the lilt of your voice would tremble. would you cry? he can’t help but wonder, sometimes.

yet he always resists the temptation. careful, cautious, with every move he makes. like a shadow. he deliberately leaves no traces of himself behind, no breadcrumbs for you to follow like the curious creature you are. geto lets you know that he’s there, but he doesn’t let you see him, because if he talks to you he knows that he’ll kill you. and he can’t have that, not just yet.

eventually, he’ll do it. he’ll do it, and he’ll watch as your blood stains the silk of his robes like the inevitability it is. but not yet.

you’ll be the last one, the last one he’ll kill. the final proof of his devotion.

until then, he can have this. this sickeningly sweet scrutiny of your life, your life without him. the sound of your laughter, the reflection of untainted light in your iris.

(you are the same as always, and you are a weakness that geto is learning to live with.)

he can’t rest, won’t rest until it finally ends. until the curtain calls on your bloodied body, until he feels the cold skin of your palm against his lips.

only then will he finally know if it was all worth it. only then will he be free of this yearning. only then will he be able to say that the last remnants of suguru have been well and truly cleansed from his soul, that there is nothing left of the person he was.

only then will geto be able to call himself wholly divine.

but until that time comes, he can do nothing but watch you. when the temptation begins to crawl under his skin again, when he needs to remind himself of what he’s fighting for. that one thing, at least, never once changed; suguru geto has always fought for you. for your protection, for your survival, for your demise.

for your happiness, in life or in death.

(geto hates you, loathes you, resents you for being what you are; but suguru will always, always love you. forever and ever. no matter what.

and that will be their undoing.)

suguru geto dies without saying goodbye to you.

if there are any regrets to speak of, any at all, then maybe that’d be it. he never got to see that shock on your face, never got to hear you stammer in the way you always used to when you were nervous.

in the golden hue of sunset, the last of his resentment finally fades away. the curse known as geto disappears, and what remains is no more than a ghost — the ghost of suguru, the person he was, the person he never quite stopped being.

and when geto disappears, when the last of his resentment fades away, suguru finally allows himself to think of you. fully, without interruption, without unspilled blood festering beneath his tongue. just one single touch of sincerity, one last indulgence before it all ends. he thinks of you, you as a person, not you as a non-sorcerer. he gives your memory the respect it deserves. something worth cherishing.

he wonders what you’re doing, right now. he wonders if you studied enough for that exam next week, if you found a good gift for your friend’s birthday party. he wonders if you still miss him, even though he'll never be deserving of it.

satoru stands in front of him, genuine, sincere. and suguru thinks that he is a fool, just like you; to still have any kind of affection left for someone like him. after he left you both behind, that summer.

satoru doesn’t curse him. suguru wishes he would.

a soft bout of laughter falls from his lips, as the sun sets behind him, and he knows you would have found the sight breathtaking. you always did love sunsets, didn't you? the sun was setting when he found you with that bruise on your leg, he recalls — such a miniscule detail. he wonders why he remembers only now.

suguru chokes back his tears, still smiling. it’s a smile of love. a smile of regret. he thinks of satoru.

at least curse me a little at the very end.

those should be his final words. he should avert his gaze, follow the script, tear his eyes away from the only other person besides you who ever truly knew him —

but he doesn’t. he can’t. suguru looks straight at him, at satoru, into his eyes, so blue they seem to gleam in the orange hue of the melting sun. sparkling like little galaxies, like the crinkling of soda pops, like crystallized summer skies. he looks beautiful, as beautiful as he always was.

(i wish i had told you, suguru thinks. i wish i had told you everything.)

in a voice so small he barely hears it, so tender that geto would’ve felt disgusted to his very core, suguru asks his best friend for one last favour. he’s not sure why, not sure why it matters —

but maybe, just this once, it’s fine if it’s meaningless.

satoru listens, intently. he looks at his best friend with eyes so soft it makes suguru want to laugh and cry and go back to a time when they were all happy. but they can’t, that choice was lost ten years ago — he threw it away. smothered it beneath his boot heel. there was never any going back, from the very beginning.

satoru answers his plea. one final favour, one best friend to another.

of course.

a shaky breath. he can’t tell who it came from.

of course i will.

suguru smiles. a full, genuine smile, that reaches his eyes and blossoms like a flower in the light of the sun. it’s the last time anyone will see it.

satoru clenches his jaw. he crouches down, and presses his fingers against his best friend’s battered body, right over his bleeding heart. he will never, ever forgive himself for what he's about to do.

(suguru already has.)

and the moment before the last flicker of light leaves his eyes, suguru chooses to think of you.

he thinks of your smile, the way your lips curled up at even the smallest things. he thinks of your curiosity, how it always lead him back to you. he thinks of what could have been.

he thinks of that question you asked him, all those years ago — how accepted it made him feel. that sensation of being understood. suguru thinks you saved his life, that day.

(he never got to thank you for it.)

you were his childhood friend. his nearest, dearest, oldest one.

suguru doesn't believe the world he lives in is kind enough to allow him a second chance. and he doesn't think he really deserves one, either way.

but if there is a next life, if he’s lucky enough to be reborn —

then suguru hopes he’ll be born as a dragonfly, so he can find his way back to you.

he’ll meet you, again; in the afterglow of sunset, by that dusty, forgotten, tiny summer creek. framed by silver-hued fish and cicadas, and the silence of a town that glimmered while you were both in it.

he won’t be able to wipe your tears away, won’t be able to clean the bruise on your knee — but he can be with you. and maybe, in your next lives, that’ll be enough.

(what a lovely thought.)

suguru smiles, and lets a final breath of air course through his burning lungs.

— it tastes like summer.

there is a silent understanding, between the two of you.

it’s been ten years since you last spoke to satoru gojo. it wasn’t a very pleasant conversation, and somehow, you doubt this will be an exception. an acute awareness lies heavy in the air — and deep down, some part of you knows what he’s about to tell you.

(as if it was an inevitability.)

gojo doesn’t smile. his voice has no masked amusement to it, no sense of joviality. if you strain your ears, you think it may even be wavering, slightly, so faint it’s hard to tell for sure. just that one low shiver of his lips, saying more than words ever could.

he doesn’t beat around the bush. and you see that for the kindness that it is, despite the ice cold chill that creeps into your veins when his words spill out into the air, a full body shiver traveling down your spine.

he tells you that suguru is dead, and you don’t flinch. you don’t even cry. that comes later.

in the moment, all you can do is nod, a little pitiful, teeth digging into the flesh of your bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. like you’re trying to be brave.

truthfully, you had a feeling that was the case.

sometimes, it was as if you could feel him. just barely out of reach, a certain cologne lingering on your windowsill, a box of cookies you’ve liked since you were little delivered to your doorstep. a sudden feeling of being watched. a note wishing you luck on whatever exam or driver’s test or job interview you had the next day, accompanied by a silly smiley face so distinctly suguru it made you want to cry.

— how cruel of him.

but you couldn’t help but feel comforted by it, all the same. it made you feel like he was still with you, somehow, like he still cared. even though he disappeared from your life without saying anything. even though gojo told you explicitly all those years ago to stay away, if you ever saw him, as if he was suddenly dangerous —

but you could never be afraid of him. you don’t think you have it in you.

to you, suguru will always just be the boy who helped you up when you scraped your knee, all those years ago. a sweet, cool kid, who held your hand firmly and gently wiped the blood off your skin.

(he’ll always be your nearest, dearest, oldest friend. even if you aren’t his.)

but lately, there’s been nothing. you haven't felt any traces of him at all, no lingering gazes boring into your back. so you knew. deep down, maybe you always kind of knew.

gojo looks at you with compassion, understanding. and without him having to say it, you know he loved suguru too. you know because his breathing is shaky, because his eyes look puffy from hours of crying; you know because grief is like a stench, thick and heavy, overwhelming, one that clings to your skin and haunts your very being. just like love.

and you can smell it on the both of you.

(you both loved the boy who died for his ideals, the man who was so moral it killed him.)

the news will sink in, later. you are sure that you will crumble, and you are sure that you will cry. you’re sure that the road ahead will be a long one, full of obstacles and thorns. but that’s fine. you’ll deal with it when the time comes. suguru was always a little mystical, a little too good to be true.

maybe you always sort of assumed things would end like this; that he’d walk ahead without you, with all his whispered secrets and gentle lies.

(asshole.

he could have given you a call, at least. even just once.)

for now, all you can do is try to keep your trembling skin intact. and you assume that gojo will leave, now that you know, that this was all he came here for. just a messenger of death, coated in a grief so strong you doubt he’ll ever be rid of it.

but gojo doesn’t leave.

he hands you something, instead.

a polaroid, you quickly realize. a photograph, of three kids — one with white hair, one with brown hair, and one with black hair. the black haired boy is trying hard not to smile, you can tell. the other two have got their arms around him, squeezing his body tightly with matching grins, throwing up peace signs. he looks at them with exasperation in his eyes, but you can tell that there’s a love there. you can tell, you know, because despite everything, you still know him.

a lump forms in your throat.

it’s not the original copy, is what gojo tells you, apologetic. you’re almost certain that he kept it for himself, and you don’t blame him. i’m sorry. but i wanted to… you know.

(he wanted to give you something to hold onto.)

the gesture is a little bit awkward, just a tad clumsy. but it’s a genuine concern, a sincere kindness. you aren’t really surprised that suguru spent his last moments with this man instead of you.

gojo continues to speak, and you continue to listen, attentive — hungry for anything to mend the hole in your heart. but your eyes never once stray from the photograph.

(suguru looks so, so happy.)

he tells you that suguru talked about you a lot, back then. and without him having to say it, you know what he really means is he loved you a lot. the words of consolation ring like static, in your ears. it hurts. the hole in your heart just keeps extending, extending, extending.

gojo notices. so he gets to the point, the final point, the only one that matters. this is his duty, too — granting suguru’s last request. the only one he ever asked of him in words.

(it’s the least he could do, for the man he loved so dearly, the one who left him behind in the shadow of summer.)

he tells you that there’s one more thing. that suguru asked him to tell you something, that it was the last thing he ever said. words that he wanted you to hear, more than anything.

gojo’s voice does not waver. it is not his place.

you listen. you listen as if it will bring him back. you listen as if it is the last thing you will ever do.

and gojo speaks.

the words mean everything, and also nothing at all. how very like him. they bounce off the walls of your apartment, spilling into the suffocating air, echoing inside your mind. cutting into your bloodstream, rooting themselves in a particularly soft spot deep within your ribcage, chrysanthemums blooming from your flesh. petals filling up your stomach until you can scarcely breathe.

the final words of your childhood friend. your nearest, dearest, oldest one; suguru geto, who you will always love, in the same way the sun loves the moon, as naturally as breathing.

the dam breaks. the sky shatters. the sob you choke on tastes salty, and gojo looks remorseful, his figure blurred by your tears. everything comes crashing down around you — an inevitability you were hoping to put off, in the same way suguru put off talking to you all those years.

and now, finally, he tells you his honest feelings. when it’s already far too late. how very, very like him.

(tell them i’m sorry. and that i hope their exam goes well.)

— honestly. what a fucking asshole.

not once did you ask for an apology. you never wanted one, never thought to even wish for it. you didn’t need one.

all you wanted was for him to come back to you. to find you, again, the way he always did.

tears cascade down your scrunched-up face, big and childlike, but no one’s there to wipe them away anymore. you cradle the photograph in your hands, savouring every single memory you have of him. all the love your heart can muster.

the tears never seem to end. they continue to run down your cheeks, until all you can smell is sea salt, until the sun has set in the horizon, until the moon has hanged itself in the sky. a silent comfort, but it’s not enough. it never will be.

a sniffle pushes past your lips, and you hear yourself laugh — bitter, raspy, gentle all the same. what a moron, you whisper, a soft lull of your tongue. didn’t he know?

(you forgave him long ago.)

bonus 👀

#get u a man who loves you so deeply it causes him cognitive dissonance #im a lil unsure abt this piece pshshs but it has a rly special place in my heart!!#i just like the idea of geto being so desperately in denial about his love for u that he forces himself to hate u. self-affirmation yknow?#subconsciously putting u on a pedastal above the rest… being unable to let go of the connection between u even though he wants to sever it #having this evident fondness for you but its constantly battling with the part of him that hates what your existence means for him #telling himself that he’ll ’save u for last’ but its more of a measure to keep himself from killing u bc he knows his ideal is unattainable #so he’ll never have to kill you. it'll never get to that point. he wants to so badly though. but does he really?#yeahhh. im normal abt fucked up curse user geto <3 soft canon divergent sugu is still my fave to write for tho #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #geto angst #jjk angst #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto x y/n #jjk x y/n

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localtelephonebooth · 5 months

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Thoughts on Kieran’s relationship with Ogerpon as a previously obsessive teenager:

(I did not proof read this. I just woke up, had the urge, and now it’s here.)

Kieran, to me, is a very relatable character. He is a shy, and quiet teenager in a small town. He lacks friendships and possibly meaningful connections with those who do spend time with him. He’s probably isolated due to the fact that he lacks a phone. Any friends he does make are likely school based only. So, Kieran latches on to anything he can to feel less alone in life. And of course he latches onto Ogerpon. Ogerpon is just like him. A sad “monster” all isolated and alone in the mountains. I’m certain that Kieran has fantasized about meeting Ogerpon and getting into wild adventures with her. I did the same thing with characters I enjoyed.

Princess Luna, for example (sorry to whiplash anyone with that), was a character I heavily related to. She was alone and isolated due to her previous actions. She struggled with fitting in and having a healthy relationship with her sister for awhile. To say I didn’t form an obsession with a character who understood my feelings would be a lie. I think Kieran is the same.

He became obsessed with Ogerpon. He become obsessed with the ideas he crafted of him and Ogerpon. In a way, that fantasy was VERY real to him. So when we come around and lie about meeting Ogerpon, and inevitably become friends with her behind his back, of course he freaks out! We stole his fantasy of him and Ogerpon! And that’s the key point here that people tend to not realize. We didn’t steal Ogerpon from Kieran, we just stole his fantasy and made it our reality.

With my obsession with princess Luna (again, whiplash), if anyone said they loved princess Luna it was a fucking attack on me. Princess Luna was my best friend, and she could only love me! Everyone else was just a jealous thief.

As an adult looking back on this mindset, it’s horribly embarrassing. It’s a mindset I carried into my real life, when I actually started making friends, that ruined so much for me. I lost friends because I was so angry that my fantasies were not reciprocated. I really do think Kieran does the same. He grows sad and frustrated over what happened with Ogerpon. His fantasy is just a fantasy, and that’s fucking with him. So naturally, he finds a new fantasy to, hopefully in his mind, make a reality. And so he chose battling and winning against you. The thing we used to “steal” Ogerpon away from him (Even though Kieran technically suggested battling for Ogerpon, I don’t doubt he used it to rationalize why she didn’t want to come with him). To him, being the best battler will solve everything. Kieran will get his revenge, he’ll finally be recognized, everyone can’t lie to him because they fear or admire him, and he’ll prove to Ogerpon he was the right choice.

Now, I want to say something about Kieran. A detail that, for whatever reason, people don’t like to acknowledge: He’s just a kid.

I’m not saying “He’s a widdle baby. He can do no harm!” No, Kieran’s an asshole. He became a bully. I can have empathy for his emotions, but not excuse his actions. He’s a dumb and entitled teenager with issues. And, quite obviously, he doesn’t really have a way to deal with his issues in a healthy manner (seriously, his school is based solely on battling. Anyone who’s going or gone to a specialized school can understand how toxic people can get in that type of environment. And don’t even get me started on the incompetence of the adults in Kieran’s school).

Kieran is a teenage boy growing up right now. He’s got a lot to work through, and a lot of people he’s gotta confront about his behavior. He was an asshole, a bully, and genuinely a bad person for minute. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t growing past that. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve recognition for his growth. You can recognize someone has changed and not forgive them.

Kieran is a really intriguing character and holds a valuable lesson in obsession. And I really wish people would recognize that he’s not just an irredeemable prick or an innocent little guy. He’s a kid learning. He’s going to make really stupid and bad mistakes. Just like how I, and probably you reading this, did.

Anyways, hopefully we see him interact with the Area Zero buddies. I think those three have amazing lessons that Kieran can learn from. Maybe Kieran can teach them a few things too!

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #the teal mask #the indigo disk #pokémon #pokemon kieran #kieran #ogerpon #hey thanks for reading my rambles!#I’m really hoping with the epilogue that gamefreak doesn’t use the peach to excuse his actions #but I think the peach only enhances negative emotions that were already there #idk we’ll have to see!#hopefully the writing isn’t too incoherent

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rebeccathenaturalist · 7 months

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Existence Value: Why All of Nature is Important Whether We Can Use it or Not

I spend a lot of time around other nature nerds. We’re a bunch of people from varying backgrounds, places, and generations who all find a deep well of inspiration within the natural world. We’re the sort of people who will happily spend all day outside enjoying seeing wildlife and their habitats without any sort of secondary goal like fishing, foraging, etc. (though some of us engage in those activities, too.) We don’t just fall in love with the places we’ve been, either, but wild locales that we’ve only ever seen in pictures, or heard of from others. We are curators of existence value.

Existence value is exactly what it sounds like–something is considered important and worthwhile simply because it is. It’s at odds with how a lot of folks here in the United States view our “natural resources.” It’s also telling that that is the term most often used to refer collectively to anything that is not a human being, something we have created, or a species we have domesticated, and I have run into many people in my lifetime for whom the only value nature has is what money can be extracted from it. Timber, minerals, water, meat (wild and domestic), mushrooms, and more–for some, these are the sole reasons nature exists, especially if they can be sold for profit. When questioning how deeply imbalanced and harmful our extractive processes have become, I’ve often been told “Well, that’s just the way it is,” as if we shall be forever frozen in the mid-20th century with no opportunity to reimagine industry, technology, or uses thereof.

Moreover, we often assign positive or negative value to a being or place based on whether it directly benefits us or not. Look at how many people want to see deer and elk numbers skyrocket so that they have more to hunt, while advocating for going back to the days when people shot every gray wolf they came across. Barry Holstun Lopez’ classic Of Wolves and Men is just one of several in-depth looks at how deeply ingrained that hatred of the “big bad wolf” is in western mindsets, simply because wolves inconveniently prey on livestock and compete with us for dwindling areas of wild land and the wild game that sustained both species’ ancestors for many millennia. “Good” species are those that give us things; “bad” species are those that refuse to be so complacent.

Even the modern conservation movement often has to appeal to people’s selfishness in order to get us to care about nature. Look at how often we have to argue that a species of rare plant is worth saving because it might have a compound in it we could use for medicine. Think about how we’ve had to explain that we need biodiverse ecosystems, healthy soil, and clean water and air because of the ecosystem services they provide us. We measure the value of trees in dollars based on how they can mitigate air pollution and anthropogenic climate change. It’s frankly depressing how many people won’t understand a problem until we put things in terms of their own self-interest and make it personal. (I see that less as an individual failing, and more our society’s failure to teach empathy and emotional skills in general, but that’s a post for another time.)

Existence value flies in the face of all of those presumptions. It says that a wild animal, or a fungus, or a landscape, is worth preserving simply because it is there, and that is good enough. It argues that the white-tailed deer and the gray wolf are equally valuable regardless of what we think of them or get from them, in part because both are keystone species that have massive positive impacts on the ecosystems they are a part of, and their loss is ecologically devastating.

But even those species whose ecological impact isn’t quite so wide-ranging are still considered to have existence value. And we don’t have to have personally interacted with a place or its natural inhabitants in order to understand their existence value, either. I may never get to visit the Maasai Mara in Kenya, but I wish to see it as protected and cared for as places I visit regularly, like Willapa National Wildlife Refuge. And there are countless other places, whose names I may never know and which may be no larger than a fraction of an acre, that are important in their own right.

I would like more people (in western societies in particular) to be considering this concept of existence value. What happens when we detangle non-human nature from the automatic value judgements we place on it according to our own biases? When we question why we hold certain values, where those values came from, and the motivations of those who handed them to us in the first place, it makes it easier to see the complicated messes beneath the simple, shiny veneer of “Well, that’s just the way it is.”

And then we get to that most dangerous of realizations: it doesn’t have to be this way. It can be different, and better, taking the best of what we’ve accomplished over the years and creating better solutions for the worst of what we’ve done. In the words of Rebecca Buck–aka Tank Girl–“We can be wonderful. We can be magnificent. We can turn this shit around.”

Let’s be clear: rethinking is just the first step. We can’t just uproot ourselves from our current, deeply entrenched technological, social, and environmental situation and instantly create a new way of doing things. Societal change takes time; it takes generations. This is how we got into that situation, and it’s how we’re going to climb out of it and hopefully into something better. Sometimes the best we can do is celebrate small, incremental victories–but that’s better than nothing at all.

Nor can we just ignore the immensely disproportionate impact that has been made on indigenous and other disadvantaged communities by our society (even in some cases where we’ve actually been trying to fix the problems we’ve created.) It does no good to accept nature’s inherent value on its own terms if we do not also extend that acceptance throughout our own society, and to our entire species as a whole.

But I think ruminating on this concept of existence value is a good first step toward breaking ourselves out first and foremost. And then we go from there.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

#nature #natural history #ecology #wildlife #animals #environment #environmentalism #conservation #existence value #deep ecology #science #scicomm #environmental philosophy #climate change

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planetsstarsandmoons · 1 year

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Synastry observations based on personal experience, part 4:

(18+!!!)

Mars/venus first house overlay: gets a bad reputation, because people feel like this overlay is ‘superficial’ due to the fact that the first house signifies what people show of their personality to the outside, aka their ‘looks’ and also their physical appearance. They forget that what you externalise in the house of the externalised ego is you, your ego. That’s you! Your ego is a very deep and important thing about you. For some people it’s a more important than for others of course. The way you dress, laugh, look and walk and look, that *is* a deep aspect about your personality. Like those things *are* personal. For some people like mars or venus dominant people it’s the ideal placement, because this is a fiery placement keeps people from being ~bored~ with who the other is, which often happens in a bad marriage. It’s why this aspect is called thee great aspect for marriage. It’s great!

Venus opposite saturn: does not pose as big of an issue if the people have either venus in 10th house or saturn in 7th house natally. There is more acceptance, understanding and ‘seeing things the other way’ that way. It can also manifest in the honeymoon stage just being enlonged and the problems showing up later.. with the ‘honeymoon stage’ in this aspect I mean that this bond feels pretty karmic and paternalistic and awesome in the beginning, in a way that feels super attractive, safe and interesting to the venus person who’s in awe of saturn, and super intense, fulfilling and a little anxiety inducing for the saturn person involved, who enjoys venus’s quirks and air for themselves so much that they become against it and will call them things like ‘childish’ as time goes on. This doesn’t happen if there’s good trust and communication in the relationship. Most often the ‘emotional pain’ that is seen as inevitable with some synastry aspects according to some people, are only inevitable for people who really don’t know how to deal with other people in relationships. You’ll be alright when you have some supporting aspects to this.

Mars-lilith: mars and lilith have a lot in common: they are independent, sexual, feisty and go after their own fleeting pleasures. Only mars isn’t a social pariah, stays on earth and lilith is so she’s up in the air like a bird. Lilith, as the outcast, is someone who wants to impress mars to prove something to herself. Mars is someone wants to dominate lilith, to prove something to himself and also to her. You can see they have a lot of natural (sexual) chemistry but they’re sh*t for the long term lol. Mars is still part of the ‘ordinary world’ and lilith is still traumatized by that world. In harsher aspects, the empathy towards each other will be non existent. The same can even go for sympathy between the two. Also, the ‘colour’ of this union will of course depend on the signs they are in.

Moon conjunct jupiter: Why does my pisces moon have immediate soulmate-like crushes on men born in 1962/63? Oh, that’s why. I’ve had it the other way around too and I’ve seen a lovely couple with this, but I feel like this definetely gets exalted in pisces. Jupiter ~loves~ the moon person. Moon person’s entire emotional/private self fuels and twinflames jupiter person’s entire inspirational and idealistic self. The moon person feels safe while still feeling inspired and adventarous with the jupiter person. Jupiter basically adores the moon, and even that gets expanded due to the expansive and almost indulgent nature of this aspect. The moon person wants to be with jupiter. They feel their emotional self inspired and exalted when they are with them and it can be for some (for me) a very rare feeling of being so comfortable and happily understood and inspired by the other. I’ve always found this one of the best relationship aspects you can have, for me at least it’s the best because with my scorpio sun pisces moon and sag rising, that optimistic jupiternan energy on my most vulnurable side is exactly what I’m looking for.

Mars conjunct chiron: the only sexual aspect that will make a man want to marry his female partner.

Sun/venus/mercury fifth house overlay: ever had that feeling of ‘ooh this person is going to be here, now this occasion is worth it/interesting/~a party~’ and you almost saw it as like a crush? Did it feel a little juvenile? That’s this one.

Mars fifth house or in that mix^: oh and you do have a crush on this person, highly likely. Are you going ‘oh my god, oh my god, it’s him/her’ when he arrives in like an almost funny and very juvinile way? That’s this one. Okay so now I’m taking a girl reading this as the norm, but for a guy that crush would happen with venus added in the fifth house. This/these overlay(s) cause butterflies and first love vibes for the house person, giggling like a teenager and thinking the planet person is soo cool and fun and attractive. The planet person releases their inhibitions around the house person and becomes leo-esque, like the party version or radio-edition of themselves.

Saturn conjunct an angle: weirdly enough, this aspect is not much talked about on the internet but I assume that is because people don’t have a lot to add to this one. I do. I believe this aspect can be extremely significant in reading a synastry chart romantically. So, to begin with I feel like this aspect, like a lot in synastry, plays out differently irl based on the genders of the people involved. What I’ve found is that saturn conjunct an angle in heterosexual relationships, where the guy is saturn and the angle person is a girl, the guy is easily bound to fall in love with the angle girl. This is because saturn imposes their mix of care, ownership, restriction responsibility, security, dedication, reality, commitment and karma on your angle which basically stands for a fundamental part slash pillar of your existence. Aka, this aspect is a patriarchal wet dream. The hero-instinct is immensly triggered here. This guy’s (who I also had a pretty large age gap with for our early twenties) saturn was tightly conjunct my IC, the most vulnerable angle, standing for my fourth house of the home and, using other astrologer’s phrasing, where ‘my soul is seated’. We were not together yet, but would unsolicited go “yeah, that’s important that you do that” and after some inquiring about anything “be careful that you don’t” blabla like it mattered to him. The vibe was very much like he could say “look, as your husband” and me reacting like “excuse me??” Same guy also had his saturn tightly conjunct my even younger friend’s ASC and it’s like he picked her to be like his little sister! even though they didn’t know each other that well. He would be very protective of her (although i think he could have done more, but that’s another story) and hype her up whenever she walked into a room, it was very cute. Conjuncting DSC I’d imagine it would play out like saturn worrying about the people DSC hangs out with and feeling a sense of dictatorship(?) over her social angle and who she’s seeking love from. Brooding protectiveness over the fact that DSC has been going out again with many guys who may not be up to good. Like I said, this aspect is the patriarchal wet dream. Conjuncting MC it would be exactly like jiwoo and sungmin from Age of Yourh. Making sure he’s right behind her in her goals at all times to protect her, almost like a cynical bodyguard, but somehow equal-ish partners that compliment each other. Back to saturn conjunct IC, the IC is the ingebakken way of managing things and the way you close your eyes for rest. Saturn conjuncting this part of you is like them barging into your house and giving you pills while you’re, like, there in your underwear. This angle aspect does create a deep kind of bond I’d guess. It’s still lunar! With the AC I think it’s the physical air and appearance that someone gives off that makes saturn think that they’re smol and need guidance. This is what I imagine a first impression would be like! Not getting into the relationship itself but like, you could guess. I’d say the ASC and MC conjunction will flourish as platonic and be doomed when it gets romantic and the DSC and IC conjunction will flourish as romantic and be doomed as platonic. In the right kind of relationship these conjunctions can be like ‘ahww’ and wholesome but in the wrong kind of relationship, these conjunctions could cause a major, and I can’t describe this any other way, ‘f*ck of!!!’ 😂

Moon trine mercury: I call this the best friend aspect because I’ve shared this aspect with every friend I could talk with for hours and enjoy it. Even if you don’t share the same kind of humor you can still laugh and communicate and basically enjoy each other’s brain ! I like this aspect in romantic relationships, too, because this aspect kills the potential awkward silence and it adds that green flag communication with e/o when official. This isn’t like the conjunction were the two bodies are so bang on alike that it becomes like a battle between the one person’s mind and the one person’s emotions. There is a harmonious distance that actually brings the people closer together and creates that intimacy. With the trine you constantly greatly appreciate what the other person adds to the table. This is communication that flows non-verbally as well, like through touches and looks.

Moon opposite mars: chrissttt, not to be vulgar but you both know you just want to.. do the deed together 💀 almost as if after 10 mins of talking you’ve already decided that in your head

Mars sextile moon/venus I feel like the energy that flows through the trine causes sexual arousal and through the sextile it causes a very wholesome emotional arousal. Great aspect no matter which gender.

Chiron conjunct sun: get ready to get your feelings hurt if you’re the chiron person! Well, the way this feels is actually: the sun person will just be hitting you where you’re vulnurable but most likely you’ll like it and feel almost soothed, even. I’ve had this both ways. It’s a great and genuine aspect to have.

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lila-lou · 2 months

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✨ His only exception - Pt. 13/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, soft Ben

Word Count: 5442

A/N: This is part 13 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

"So, how are things going with you and Ben?", she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity. "You two seem to be getting along really well again, especially since you guys came back from vacation".

You flashed Annie a smile, trying to sound nonchalant as you replied, “Oh, you know how it is. We just talked, drank, and had fun while we were in Brazil”. Annie nodded, but her eyes betrayed a knowing glint as she continued, “And what about that little crush you had on him a few weeks ago? Seemed like there was something more going on”.

You felt a pang of panic, hoping Ben was too engrossed in the conversation with Butcher to overhear.

“Oh, that?”, you said, trying to brush it off. “Just a silly little crush, nothing serious”.

As Annie and Kimiko exchanged glances, Kimiko raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. Sensing your confusion, you sighed, asking her silently, "What?".

In response, Kimiko signed a few quick gestures, her hands moving with precision and clarity. Though you were still learning sign language, you understood her message clearly: he's not a good guy, and you shouldn't have a crush on him.

Her words struck a chord.

As Ben’s gaze lingered on you from afar, his ears caught every word of your conversation with Annie and Kimiko.

Meanwhile, Annie turned to you, her expression solemn. “Kimiko’s right, you know”, she said softly. “You shouldn’t let yourself get too caught up with someone like him”.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Someone like him? Like what?”, you asked, crossing your arms as you waited for their explanation.

Again Annie exchanged a meaningful look with Kimiko before speaking again. “Someone who’s… complicated”, she replied carefully. “You know he’s not the easiest person to deal with”.

Kimiko nodded in agreement, her expression serious. “He’s dangerous”, she signed, her hands moving swiftly to convey her message. “You should be careful”.

You sighed, shaking your head slightly. “He never hurt me”, you insisted, feeling the need to defend Ben, despite all the warning signs.

Annie raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. “Well, not on purpose maybe”, she countered, her tone tinged with concern. Kimiko’s hands moved, “He’s just a massive red flag”.

“He’s got PTSD, he’s never sober, always on coke, and let’s not forget, he’s a fucking misogynist”.

"I know," you admitted quietly, your gaze drifting back to Ben.

Annie sighed, her expression softening with concern. "Just be careful, okay? You shouldn't catch any kind of feelings for him", she warned, her tone gentle but firm.

You scoffed, feeling a pang of frustration. "I know he's not perfect, but he's not a bad guy", you insisted, though doubt lingered in your mind.

Annie's expression grew serious. "Remember his short temper and his aggressive mood swings", she reminded you, her voice low. "his lack of empathy and emotions. He's not capable of loving someone".

As Annie’s words sank in, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease creeping over you. Despite your conflicted feelings for Ben, the reality of his volatile nature and emotional detachment weighed heavily on your mind. Before you could respond, Kimiko signed to you, “You could literally easily die. Since you’re just a human, Ben could crush you at any time with ease”.

You sighed, trying to dismiss the heaviness of the conversation. "Let's just drop it", you said, your voice wavering slightly. "I don't have any feelings for him, and I never will".

You hoped your words sounded convincing, but deep down, you knew they were a lie. However, unbeknownst to you, Ben overheard your declaration from afar, a dark look crossing his features as he listened.

Annie couldn’t shake her concern for you, her eyes still filled with worry as she turned back to you. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt”, Annie said softly, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

“I know”, you replied quietly, feeling the weight of her words.

Annie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her gaze filled with compassion. “Soldier boy could never give you what you need”, she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

As Ben sat amidst the discussion with Butcher, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Emotions swirled within him, a turbulent mix of frustration, insecurity, and a hint of longing. He couldn't bear the thought of you thinking poorly of him, but he was at a loss for what to do.

From the kitchen, you glanced over at Ben, your gaze lingering on him for a moment. But Ben, determined to maintain his facade, pretended to be engrossed in the conversation with Butcher, his expression carefully neutral.

Unknown to you, his heart ached with the desire to reach out to you, to reassure you that he wasn't as bad as you might think. But his pride and his own internal struggles kept him rooted in place.

Annie caught your gaze lingering on Ben, and she shot you a knowing look, her expression tinged with sarcasm.

"Sure thing", she muttered sarcastically, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Not catching feelings at all, huh?".

You felt a flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks, but you quickly averted your gaze, unable to meet Annie's knowing eyes. Deep down, you knew she was right, but admitting it was another matter entirely.

As everyone got ready to eat, you busied yourself with setting the table, focusing on the task at hand to distract yourself from your swirling thoughts.

Just as you reached for the salad on the kitchen counter, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could react, Ben's voice whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I want you in my room later, when everyone's asleep", he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You tensed at his words, a rush of anticipation mingled with apprehension flooding through you. Glancing over your shoulder, you met his gaze briefly before nodding in silent agreement.

Annie glanced over at you and Ben but didn’t notice the subtle gesture of intimacy exchanged between you. Ben’s gentle touch as he brushed over your lower back went unnoticed by anyone else as he smoothly made his way to the table to join the rest of the team.

As you sat down beside Ben, your thoughts raced with a whirlwind of questions and uncertainties. The subtle touch from earlier lingered in your mind, adding to the anticipation of what might unfold later that night.

Across the table, you noticed Butcher's sharp gaze fixed on you, a flicker of curiosity evident in his expression. You quickly averted your eyes, feeling a surge of discomfort under his scrutiny.

You helped yourself to some food, your mind buzzed with thoughts of Annie and Kimiko's warnings. Their words echoed in your mind.

As everyone fell into small talk, the atmosphere around the table became relaxed, but Ben remained his usual quiet self, showing little interest in engaging with anyone else except you. Similarly, you found yourself lost in your thoughts, exchanging occasional glances with Annie whenever Ben's eyes were fixed on you.

Despite the casual chatter around you, a tension lingered in the air, palpable in the way Ben's gaze seemed to follow you, his attention solely focused on you amidst the distractions of the dinner table.

As you felt Ben's knee nudge yours under the table, you looked up at him, but he didn't raise his gaze from his plate. Instead, his hand found its way onto your thigh under the table, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you.

You shot him a questioning glance, but he remained focused on his food.

Despite your expectations, Ben's touch remained surprisingly innocent. His hand simply lay on your thigh.

As you tried to make sense of his actions, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief mingled with confusion. It was a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes about the complexity of your relationship with Ben.

About an hour later you found yourself in the midst of self-defense and fighting practice with MM and Butcher, the adrenaline pumping through your veins masked the lingering tension from dinner. Despite the physical exertion, your mind couldn't help but drift back to the earlier conversation and the anticipation of what awaited you later with Ben.

MM's voice cut through your thoughts, breaking your concentration. "Focus, kid", he said firmly, his tone demanding. "You need to keep your guard up".

You nodded, refocusing your attention on the task at hand. "Right, sorry", you replied, determined to prove yourself amidst the flurry of punches and kicks.

Butcher chimed in, his voice gruff but encouraging. "Good effort, lass. Keep at it, and you'll be holding your own in no time".

But as your thoughts swirled with images of Ben, you lost focus again, failing to anticipate Butcher's next move. Before you knew it, his fist connected with your shoulder, sending you tumbling to the ground with a grunt of pain.

"Oi! Pay attention, will ya?", Butcher barked, his tone gruff but not unkind as he offered you a hand up.

As you struggled to regain your footing, Butcher’s voice cut through the haze of embarrassment. “Seems like your mind’s elsewhere, lass. Can’t afford that when you’re in a fight”.

You accepted his hand gratefully, shooting him an apologetic look. “Sorry, Butcher. Just got a bit distracted”, you admitted, trying to shake off the embarrassment. Butcher’s expression softened slightly, though his eyes still held a hint of amusement. “Well, keep your head in the game, or next time it might be a bit harder”, he warned, his tone gruff but encouraging.

Meanwhile, Ben stood in the doorframe, his smirk widening as he watched the exchange. He couldn't resist adding his own commentary. "Seems like someone's got no practice in anything", he teased, hinted at your recent loss of virginity without outright saying it.

You felt a flicker of annoyance at his comment, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you shot back with a defiant glare. "You want to talk about practice? Maybe you should switch with Butcher, and I'll whip your arrogant supe ass instead", you retorted.

Butcher chuckled, while Ben's smirk only widened. "Touché", he replied, his tone amused as he sauntered into the room, ready to join in on the training session.

"I'd love to see you try", Ben taunted, his voice laced with amusement.

"Bring it on", you challenged, your pulse racing with anticipation.

As Ben walked past you, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips, MM and Butcher exchanged a glance, their eyebrows raised in silent communication.

MM muttered under his breath, "This is gonna get messy".

Butcher nodded in agreement, his expression serious as he watched the tension between you and Ben unfold.

Ben stood casually across from you, his attire relaxed in sweatpants and a black hoodie. He seemed unimpressed by your challenge, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Come on, sweetheart", he taunted. "You really think you can take me on?".

"Watch me".

Ben chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked you up and down. "I like a bit of fight in a girl", he replied. "But let's see if you can back up that little attitude of yours”.

Ben's smirk widened as he met your defiant gaze. "Don't say I didn't warn you", he said. "I won't go easy on you”.

You met Ben's gaze head-on, the challenge sparking between you like electricity. "I bet, old man", you shot back.

Butcher cleared his throat, his tone stern as he addressed Ben. "Remember, mate, she's just a human. Keep those supe powers in check", he warned, his gaze flicking between the two of you. Ben shrugged off Butcher's warning with a cocky smirk. "I'll play nice", he replied, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. "At least until she gives me a reason not to".

The sparring began, and you moved with agility, trying to anticipate Ben's every move. But no matter how fast you were, he was always a step ahead, effortlessly blocking each of your strikes with precision.

As the fight continued, the tension between you grew palpable. At one point, Ben caught you off guard, his strong arms wrapping around you from behind as he blocked another of your moves. You could feel the heat of his body pressed against your back, his breath warm against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Despite the intensity of the moment, there was an undeniable thrill in the closeness of your bodies, the adrenaline of the fight mingling with a different kind of arousal. Ben found it incredibly hot that you were trying to fight him, his own desire flaring as he held you tightly against him.

Ben’s breath grew heavy against your ear, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. “You’re feisty, I’ll give you that”, he murmured, his tone teasing and flirtatious.

You gritted your teeth, determined to push through the distraction and maintain your composure.

As Ben's arm tightened around your neck, you reacted instinctively, sinking your teeth into his flesh. With a sharp intake of breath, he loosened his grip, giving you the opportunity to break free.

Seizing the moment, you launched yourself at him, catching him off guard and managing to throw him to the ground. But in the heat of the struggle, you ended up straddling his lap, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked down at him, a mix of triumph and uncertainty in your eyes.

Ben's gaze met yours, his expression a mixture of surprise and admiration. Despite being momentarily overpowered, there was a glint of respect in his eyes as he looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

Ben's hands gripped your hips firmly, you couldn't help but feel the light pressure of his erection underneath you, sending a shiver down your spine. His grip tightened, almost crushing, but it only added to the rush of arousal coursing through you.

Ben seized the opportunity to roll you over, quickly reversing the position. Now, he knelt above you, his hand tight around your neck, asserting his dominance. With a smirk, he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Looks like I've got you right where I want you, sweetheart. You always did have a knack for getting yourself into trouble".

As you struggled beneath him, Ben's firm grip held you in place, his dominance undeniable. Despite your efforts to break free, his strength was overwhelming, leaving you pinned beneath him. With a defiant glare, you tried to push against his hold, but it was no use.

Ben's smirk only widened as he maintained his control over you. Meanwhile, Butcher, who had been observing the exchange with a critical eye, couldn't hide his disapproval. "Oi, enough of that, mate", he interjected gruffly, stepping forward with a stern expression. "Keep your eyes off her, she ain't some bloody toy for you to play with".

Ben's smirk faltered slightly at Butcher's interruption, but he didn't release his grip on you. Instead, he met Butcher's gaze with a challenging glare of his own, the tension between them palpable. With a snarky smirk, Ben quipped, "Someone's feeling a bit overprotective today, aren't they, Butcher?".

Butcher's jaw tightened at the remark, his expression stern as he stepped closer to Ben. "I ain't being overprotective", he retorted firmly. "I'm just reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You may be invincible, mate, but she isn't".

With an eye roll, Ben finally released his grip on you and offered his hand to help you up. However, his tug was way too strong, causing you to stumble against his chest as you regained your footing.

"Easy there", he chuckled, his tone light but tinged with amusement as he steadied you.

You shot him a playful glare, rubbing your sore arm where his grip had been particularly tight. "You could've been more gentle, you know", you muttered, unable to hide the hint of annoyance in your voice.

Ben merely shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm a soldier, sweetheart. If I fight, I fight", he teased, his tone unapologetic.

You rolled your eyes at his cavalier attitude.

MM chimed in with a sigh, his voice carrying a note of exasperation. "You're just getting too distracted", he remarked, his tone firm but not unkind.

Ben, unusually serious for once, nodded in agreement. "He´s right", he added, his gaze meeting yours briefly. "Against any supe, there's no time for distractions".

You bristled at the criticism, feeling the weight of their expectations bearing down on you. "It was my first damn practice session", you retorted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "Cut me some slack".

Despite your defiant tone, there was a part of you that couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they were right. You needed to focus if you were going to stand a chance against any real threats.

Butcher approached you, his hand came to rest gently on your lower back, a silent gesture of reassurance. "Hey, not bad for your first go", he said, his tone gruff but approving. "You just need to work on keeping your focus, that's all".

You nodded, grateful for his encouragement.

Meanwhile, Ben's gaze flickered to Butcher's hand on your lower back, a surge of possessiveness stirring within him. He clenched his jaw, a brief flicker of jealousy crossing his features, but he quickly pushed it aside, not wanting to make a scene.

As Butcher and MM began to leave the room, Ben lingered behind for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. With a subtle nod to Butcher, he indicated that he would follow shortly.

Once they were out of earshot, Ben turned his attention back to you, his expression unreadable. "You did alright", he remarked, his tone casual but tinged with a hint of something else.

You met his gaze, feeling a mixture of relief and tension in the air. "Thanks", you replied, your voice slightly hoarse with emotion. "Guess I still have a lot to learn".

Ben's lips quirked into a smirk as he took a step closer, the air between you charged with an undeniable energy. "Don't worry", he said, his voice low and teasing. "I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two".

As the evening wore on and everyone settled into sleep, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, contemplating your options. Unsure of what Ben wanted from you, you decided that your grandma panties would be better left in the closet.

Examining yourself in the mirror, you opted for something a little more alluring, selecting a pair of underwear that hugged your curves in all the right places. As you slipped them on, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mingled with nervousness.

You approached Ben's room with cautious steps, the anticipation building with each quiet footfall. As you pushed the door open, you found him sitting shirtless on his bed, a joint dangling from his fingertips while he scrolled through his phone.

The soft glow of the screen illuminated his features, casting shadows across his chiseled chest. You hesitated at the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. With a deep breath, you entered the room, the door clicking shut behind you.

Ben looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in your appearance. His gaze lingered on you with a mixture of amusement and desire, sending a shiver down your spine.

"What are you waiting for?", he asked, his voice low and husky. "C´mere."

His invitation was both a command and a plea, and you felt yourself drawn to him irresistibly. With a nervous smile, you approached the bed, anticipation building with each step.

As Ben set his phone aside, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. He sat up slightly, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively.

"You look good", he murmured.

You felt a blush creep into your cheeks at his compliment, the warmth spreading through you at his gaze. "Thanks".

As Ben pulled you onto his lap, his hands firm on your hips, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mixed with nervousness. Despite the intimacy of the moment, he didn't make any further moves, leaving you to wonder what he was thinking.

You shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position on his lap, the tension between you palpable. "What are we doing?", you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what to expect next.

As Ben brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle yet possessive, a shiver ran down your spine. His fingers lingered for a moment, his gaze locked with yours, before he spoke.

"Just sit still", he murmured. Despite the simplicity of his words, there was an underlying intensity that made it impossible to disobey.

You complied with his command, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, his eyes tracing every curve and contour of your body. Despite your efforts to suppress the nervous fluttering in your stomach, the intensity of the moment was undeniable.

Ben's hands remained firm on your hips, his touch both possessive and reassuring. "Good girl", he murmured, his voice low and tinged with satisfaction. "Just like that".

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing heartbeat as you focused on maintaining your stillness. With Ben's eyes on you, every moment felt charged with anticipation, each passing second heightening the tension between you.

"You know, I could make it even more enjoyable for you if you'd let me", Ben whispered, his voice a low murmur against your ear.

Despite the ache throbbing between your legs, you refused to let on to Ben about your discomfort. With a forced smile, you brushed off his suggestion, trying to conceal the twinge of pain that shot through you with every movement.

"I'm fine", you replied, your voice strained as you shifted slightly on his lap.

Deep down, you hoped he wouldn't press further, unwilling to admit to the discomfort that lingered beneath the surface.

Ben's lips curled into a knowing smirk as he observed your strained expression, well aware of your attempt to downplay your discomfort. His usual indifference softened slightly as he decided to play along, his tone laced with teasing amusement.

"Sure you are", he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. "You're not fucking sore at all, are you? All that fighting practice must have toughened you up".

You simply shook your head.

Ben leaned back slightly, studying your expression with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “Alright, tough girl”, he teased, his tone light but his eyes searching yours. “If you say so”.

Despite his teasing, there was a subtle warmth in his gaze, a silent reassurance that he was there, even if he didn’t verbalize it. He wanted to prove to you, in his own way, that he wasn’t as callous as others perceived him to be.

You met his gaze with determination, refusing to let your discomfort show. “I’m fine”, you insisted, your voice firm, now pushing aside any sign of weakness and pain.

“So, if you’re really not sore”, he began, his tone suggestive, “You up for another round?”.

Your cheeks flushed at his bold question, but you held his gaze steadily.

Seeing your flushed cheeks, Ben couldn't help but feel a surge of amusement mixed with a tinge of curiosity. "Come on", he urged, his tone coaxing. "You can tell me how you really feel. I won't bite".

You hesitated, torn between wanting to maintain your facade of strength and the desire to be honest with him. After a moment of internal struggle, you sighed, conceding to his persistence. "Okay, fine", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe I'm a little sore".

Ben's smirk softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "There, was that so hard?", he teased, his touch light against your skin. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you", he winked.

As Ben's hands traced lazily over your hips, slipping under your top and skimming along your sides and back, you couldn't help but shiver at the sensation of his touch against your soft skin.

His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingertips dancing lightly over your curves as if exploring every inch of you. "You're so soft", he murmured.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the fluttering in your stomach as his touch sent tingles of electricity coursing through you. "Ben", you whispered, your voice barely a breath as his hands continued to explore your body.

Ben's touch lingered on your skin, his fingers tracing the bruises on your hips with a mix of curiosity and guilt. "I won't fuck you", he murmured, his voice soft but firm. "But touching should be allowed".

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions wash over you. Despite his insistence on not taking things further, the heat of his touch ignited a fire within you, a primal desire that threatened to consume your self-control.

His gaze met yours as he traced the marks on your skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you", he admitted quietly. "I guess I underestimated my strength".

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in as you struggled to find the right response.

Ben’s touch softened as he spoke, his fingers stilling on your skin as he met your gaze again, this time with sincerity.

“I’m not a bad guy”, he began, his voice quiet but earnest. “But I’m not exactly good either. I’m just… not used to every situation like this”. He paused, his gaze flickering to where his fingertips lingered on your skin. “Especially when it comes to…”, he trailed off, gesturing vaguely to you, unable to find the right words.

Your heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his eyes stirring something deep within you. "When it comes to what?", you asked softly, your curiosity piqued as you searched his eyes for answers.

Ben hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "When it comes to… you", he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't… I'm not good at this", he added, his words trailing off as he struggled to find the right way to express himself without sounding vulnerable.

Despite knowing you shouldn't push Ben too much, your curiosity got the better of you. You were beyond curious about what he was trying to say.

"About me?", you pressed gently, hoping he would open up further.

But Ben's expression hardened slightly, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes. "Forget it", he muttered dismissively, his tone tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "It doesn't matter".

Before you could press him further, Ben cut you off by leaning in and kissing you with such passion that it took your breath away. The intensity of his kiss made you feel like you were soaring, momentarily distracting you from your questions and uncertainties.

As Ben turned you both, his body hovering above yours, he deepened the kiss before trailing his lips along your jawline. Between kisses, he murmured, "You know I was patient with you, right? I didn't rush you when we… you know".

His words were soft, almost pleading, as if he wanted to convince you that he wasn't as bad as Annie and the others insisted.

As the intensity of the moment enveloped you both, your voices turned into whispers, matching the intimacy of the scene. Ben's hands traced softly along your sides, his touch gentle yet electric as he continued to pepper kisses along your jaw.

"I know I can be a handful", he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "But I've always been patient with you, haven't I?".

His lips continued their featherlight exploration over your skin, tracing every contour of your face and neck with painstaking slowness. The sensation was intoxicating, consuming your senses entirely.

With a soft sigh, you whispered in response, your voice barely above a breathy murmur, "You have…always been patient".

As his lips lingered against your skin, he paused for a moment before lifting his head slightly to meet your gaze. "I always made you feel good, right?", he asked, his voice low.

You met his gaze, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming as you whispered back, "Yes, Ben".

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours. "Good", he murmured, before capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

As the kiss deepened, Ben's hands gently cradled your face, his touch tender yet possessive. Between breathless moments, he whispered, "You know that Blondie and the rest just hate me? I would never hurt you".

His words sent a jolt through you, realizing that he had overheard your conversation earlier. Despite the intimacy of the moment, his vulnerability hung in the air, a silent plea for understanding.

With a hint of possessiveness, he continued, his voice laced with urgency, "They don't know you like I do. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you".

His words resonated with a protective edge, revealing a side of him you hadn't fully seen before.

With a determined edge to his voice, he added, "When I'm on that mission for the next two weeks, I need to know you're safe. And I don't want any other man near you, understand?".

With a hint of shyness, you asked, "But why? We're not together".

"I won't touch you ever again if anyone else does", he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Ben's lips curled into a smirk as he added, "And trust me, sweetheart, you wouldn't want to see me angry if someone else lays a finger on you".

"And just so we're clear", Ben continued, his voice low and possessive, "this pretty pussy is mine now. Got it?".

As Ben's lips trailed down your neck, he sucked lightly on your skin, urging you to answer with a low, demanding growl.

"Tell me", he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with desire. "Whose pretty pussy is it?".

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Yours", you finally whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heart.

Ben's lips curved into a satisfied smirk against your skin as he heard your response. "That's right, doll", he murmured. "All mine".

Ben's smirk turned into a mischievous grin as he leaned back slightly to meet your gaze. "And since you're too sore for me to fuck you properly", he teased, his voice low and suggestive, "I'm gonna eat that pretty pussy of yours so good, you won't be able to think about something else for the next two weeks".

As Ben's lips trailed down your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake, a shiver of anticipation ran through you. His touch was electric, sending tingles of pleasure dancing along your skin.

You let out a soft sigh as his lips hovered just above the waistband of your shorts, the anticipation building with each passing moment. "Ben", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up at you with a wicked grin, his eyes dark with desire. "Don't worry, sweetheart", he whispered huskily, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm gonna make you forget everything but me".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 14

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @kaz11283 @uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mostlymarvelgirl @meowmeowyoongles

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher

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autumnnnsun · 5 months

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Now that I’ve finished reading Hortus de Escapismo and Executor’s record, I really gotta ramble about Executor for a second and kinda talk abt how Arknights handles his lack of empathy trait that I really enjoy. This isn’t a proper analysis or anything just my thoughts I wanna vomit for a sec.

So it’s implied in Executor’s record that he just, wasn’t born having empathy despite being a sankta. Or at least he just naturally doesn’t have the same levels of understanding of emotion as other sankta. The part that I really like about it is how Executor’s Record and story in general doesn’t portray that as a necessarily bad thing.

His lack of empathy allows him to think in a way that is a lot more unique than other sankta. When his partner in his record story told him to sacrifice him, he still brought his body back to Laterano. One of the reason being because of a specific sentence in the will they were enacting (“I hope all Laterans return back to their home.” Smth that most people would assume is just smth the will writer wrote for some extra literary flare) but also because he disregarded his partner’s feelings. His lack of empathy is the reason why he did something good and that is very interesting to me especially when most people tend to demonise having low/no empathy.

I also just really like how in his record story, it’s emphasised that he knows what emotions ARE. He has developed a system with his parents to recognise and visualise emotions by drawing lines that represent them. He knows what it is, he can recognise it to a level where he can think of the next best course of action when confronted with it, he just doesn’t put much importance on it nor does he bother with understanding it for the most part. Especially if it’s something that will get in the way of his job. And I REALLY like that cus it reminds me of how people irl that have low empathy will develop systems to work around it and still be kind.

I know a lot of us joke about Executor being autistic and that’s funny and I like the jokes as much as everyone else, but low or no empathy is a trait of other mental disorders and disabilities and even as someone that hasn’t been diagnosed with anything yet it still feels kinda nice to see low empathy being portrayed in a way that isn’t villanious.

In fact, Executor having low empathy kinda makes him the best person in the room sometimes especially in Hortus de Escapismo. The part where he does a warning shot at Oren and Lemuen and essentially goes “Can ya’ll STOP I’m trying to do my JOB.” And essentially manages to stop a massacre because of it is so funny but also so fucking hype bruv. I like how in the end of the event when Executor was starting to ask more questions and have more doubts and was starting to let emotions affect his actions a bit more, it isn’t framed as like “Oh mah gerd, he’s learning empathy and being more hooman!”

Instead he’s asking questions and seeking to find solutions to them in his own unique way. Asking around and adding more variables to his thought process like a computer would (which has some implications that gets my lore brain churning but hrghrghrgh)

Top it all of with the fact that he is specifically a character that is born and raised in a society that values empathy. Being able to feel other people’s emotions is what makes you a sankta. And Executor, is one of the better sanktas because he doesn’t follow that rule.

God I love Executor, go son, thrive.

#autumnstext #arknights #executor #executor the ex foedere

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ruershrimo · 7 days

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i. toge x fem!reader | aftermath of a confession

for a while it’s just the deafening silence between the two of you and the clanging noises of chopsticks on glass bowls. of course, he knows that it isn’t going to last forever even if he wonders if it will, but your lack of words definitely fails to prove that wrong.

see, the problem is this: toge’s sitting right in front of you— his dream girl, his crush of two years and all that. since the moment you first walked in the classroom and he’d caught sight of you, he’d been hopelessly and utterly smitten. perhaps it was the way you smiled at others, shy as you were; the way you laughed at his antics without fail and tried to lift people up no matter how much you struggled with doing so. it was that kindness; the type that didn’t need gestures and touches, the type that didn’t call for empathy or sympathy. just that plain kindness.

and soon after it came his love for everything else: your hair, your eyes, your skin— the way they shined in the sunlight. he was sure he wasn’t that obvious. yet he supposes that besides maki, panda and yuuta who’d already known him enough to tell, it could have been relatively easy for all the other students of the school (basically, all the first years) to notice his infatuation with you— well, save for you yourself.

he didn’t think it’d amount to anything, though. as much as it hurt to think that. not with the way his technique held him back; you needed someone who could speak to you, look after you that way. he needed you to not feel lonely. he had insistence from maki and panda that you were every bit down bad for him as he was for you, yet he still couldn’t believe them in full. despite all his jests and cheeky shenanigans, he would never consider himself bold enough to be able to confess it all to you. so why do it, when you wouldn’t be able to reciprocate in the first place?

which is why he was shocked when you bowed over, scrunched your face up in embarrassment and handed him a letter in a sealed envelope before lunch on a random tuesday, stammering that you’ve liked him for more than a year, can you please consider going out with me?, and running away before coming back just for lunch.

at least if maki and panda were here, things would be less awkward. but maki is still out training, and panda’s off to do whatever pandas do before lunch on random tuesdays.

“takana…” he starts, eyes on your crestfallen face. the only thing your eyes are on is the food you’re eating.

“…I’m sorry…” you mutter. he barely makes it out from you.

“ikura!” he says. No!

an idea strikes him then.

you cock your head to the side in confusion as he whips out his phone and his thumbs fiddle away across its keyboard.

toge’s confident now. if the two of you like each other, why not start something new? he’d love to take you out. he hands you the phone.

“‘I… like… you… too?’” you read out, squinting at the tiny font.

toge sees your heart stop, breaths caught in your throat, your cheeks warm— scratch that, you’re crying.

wait, why were you crying?!

“takana!”

“I-I’m so glad,” you sniffle,” I always liked you. I didn’t know how to say it. it was painful seeing you every day knowing how I felt, and- and thinking there wouldn’t ever be a chance you’d like me back!” you sob, burying your face in your hands as if it could hide anything, “and then when I gave the letter to you, I was so nervous, I-I should’ve stayed there or given you something you liked, but I panicked!”

nervously, he inches his hand closer to yours. your watery eyes widen. “shake sushi,” he reaffirms. the circles he rubs over the back of your hand make you feel like he’s smoothing over creased paper on your skin. yes, he likes you too, so don’t worry. don’t cry. you may be crying, but if he were a dog, his tail would be wagging so wildly regardless.

both of your hands grab one of his with shaky movements and a slew of hiccups. “I’ll try my best.”

“mentaiko.”

thank goodness.

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saltydkdan · 4 months

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Hey, I just came from watching the UT Yellow Genocide VOD and wanted to let you know that saying things ‘low/lack of empathy = reason for bigotry/makes someone bad’ (said during the trans rights segment) is an ableist statement due to the fact its can be a common symptom of neurodivergency (mainly autism iirc) and personality disorders. I know you, like most people, probably didn’t intend it to be because low/no empathy is unfortunately just not talked about a lot right now. a better word to use in the context you did would be sympathy/compassion and such. Again, not gonna start a crusade against you since its an unfortunately common mistake, just wanted to let you know

Okay so, I got to learn something today! It’s a very nuanced conversation, and because of that, I failed to talk about it properly and used a blanket statement for something much more specific! Let me see if I can rephrase what I’m talking about so it comes off closer to what I was trying to mean now that I know a bit better:

So, obviously, the incapability to feel empathy for another person’s struggles isn’t inherently a bad thing! Emotional nuerodivergency is not bad, whatsoever, I want to make that super clear.

What I talked about during that stream is that people on the Alt Right side of the political spectrum are usually that way due to a LACK of sympathy/compassion (better words, as you said in your message!) The inability to feel anything or think of anything for someone based on their situation, the life that they have lived, and the struggles that they may face being who they are.

Lack of empathy can definitely play a role in this alongside the absence of stuff like compassion and sympathy, but as I said, lack of empathy alone is not a bad thing. It can be difficult in general to feel empathetic to an experience you are unfamiliar with. That’s true for anyone I think.

But it’s a lack of “acknowledgement” that’s the real issue. People who are born with so much privilege that they don’t care to look outside of their own self contained box to see how much pain others might be in that live in the same world as them.

So as you said, I def think sympathy/compassion probably works much better definition wise. Honestly I was confused as to what the difference was until I did proper research. Thanks for letting me know on that.

I’m hoping that this portrays my feelings on it better, but you can by all means let me know. Just need to replace the word “empathy” in my brain and swap it with stuff that better fits what I thought it meant.

Anyway, really sorry about that. That’s insanely embarrassing and I’m glad you sent this.

#saltydkdan #salty asks #ableism

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frenchgremlim1808 · 3 months

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Why Midori is such a breath of fresh air or how to actually write a Villain.

So the awaited essay, the winner of the FrenchGremlin polls of laziness finally has come! It took some time but it’s finally over. If your choice didn’t get chosen that’s okay! I’ll repost a new poll with old and newer options. Please reblog this one i put a lot of time in it, it's like, five pages long over a silly goose. Also sorry for the grammar i sucks and i'm not native. So let’s begin:

(also here is the link to the video format)

So first let’s make things clear, What IS a villain?

“A villain is a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot.” That is why I do want to make a difference between a villain and an antagonist, an antagonist is a character who are a plot devices that creates obstruction to the protagonist. That means that a villain is forced to be an antagonist while an antagonist is not forced to be a villain. For example shin is an antagonist but not a villain, he is driven by selfish desires which are themselves fueled by fear anger and loss, he is the protagonist of his own story and is a sympathetic character despite it all, and Midori is just a bitch. Midori falls under multiple stereotypes of villains. Such as “the mastermind”, “evil incarnate” (lmao),”related to the protagonist” etc. Midori is evil, there is no denying in this, he is purely evil, and he doesn’t have a sad weepy backstory, he doesn’t feel empathy towards other, he is a despicable piece of shit who ruined so many lives. I won’t list everything but here is a list of his crimes, murder, assault, domestic abuse, grooming, verbal abuse, and torture, crimes against humanity lmao, stalking, violent crimes, and participation in a cult. And his worst crime is being a pussy bitch of course. So now that we have put the bases up let’s really begin.

Hollywood has a hate boner against villains and I hate them for that.

Recently Hollywood decided that pure evil bad guys is actually a bad thing, so now they decided to do stupid side story with them, to give them ”””depth””” since I guess how could we like those villains since they are bad. A great example of this is the Disney remakes which I loathe so much oh god I hate them. So first they did a maleficient it was okay honestly, then they did a freaking cruella movie where her mom gets killed by Dalmatians, that’s not a joke, in the peter and wendy movie that nobody saw they decided to have made the captain hook be a lost boy who was abandoned by the lost boys and peter, oh also they decided that PETER CUT HIS HANDS OFF AND LEFT HIM TO DIE BECAUSE HOOK WANTED TO SEE HIS FAMILY. They are going to do a freaking mufasa movie, in no time I can’t wait to have a Ursula movie where it’s discovered that ariel killed all of her family in cold blood or something’s. So you might say what’s the problem? I mean isn’t that supposed to make the story more interesting. No, no it doesn’t, because first they take all of the character personality traits and throw them in the bin, second they are supposed to be the vilain in a musical animated movies, I am not against complex villain, I love them, but by doing this, the original character doesn’t exist anymore. Just create original content with new interesting characters instead of doing stuff like this. Also it’s kind of funny than in all of those interpretation they take all the fun and sucks it out, what do I mean by fun, the gayness, Disney vilain are fun because they are camp, they are fabulous extravagant extra in all the ways possible, and that’s the reason we liked them. Not every character needs something super deep, like “my family was burned down at the stake and my dog was eaten by my ex”, sometimes we just like bad fun people, they are the story, and Hollywood hating them so bad just bothers me a lot. Also now the new thing is to not have a villain at all which can works in some narrative but not all of them, it gets boring after a while. In the past people were angry that villains are bland, but now I kind of miss it. While I will critique villains who have no purpose outside of being evil that’s dumb, like for example Voldemort is bland like white bread because his only motivation is being evil, but evil people do exist compared to what some Hollywood writers think, they should know. So that’s why I will put a difference between evil villains and villains whose only purpose is being evil; we loved Disney villains but they still had motivations, goals, reasons that to them a least were worth everything. World domination isn’t enough, why do you want world domination, what is the true reason deep in your heart, is it an inferiority complex, is it a savior complex fuelled by xenophobic beliefs.

That is how to write a pure evil villain, evil people exist all over the world, but I have never seen one who doesn’t have they own reasons to be so bad, it doesn’t excuse their actions nor really explains them. We do not want justifications we want explanations. If you are justifying evil behavior then do it, but don’t claim that it is a pure evil character. A pure evil character can be fun, can be interesting, he can be deep, it’s all about balancing all of their traits to truly make them greats. Which is why midori succeeds while current villains fail. Current stupid remake/spin off try to justify the behavior because they feel like this is what the audience wants, but it’s not what we need. So I will defend to the grave evil villains.

Creating an evil villain doesn’t make them boring guys.

Why the heck does big budget movies have either the blandest protagonist or the blandest villains sometimes both, like I said evil people do exist but comically evil character only works in satire not in a serious multiple millions of dollar movie. Example that boring ass avatar movie, the one with blue people, none of the characters are interesting the villain is one note. The lords of the rings also suffers from that, but I don’t care because the protagonist are so awesome that sauron being personality less doesn’t matter. Also sauron is more of a force of nature villains so it’s not the same. The recent kingsman movie has a bland one note villain, there is nothing entertaining, funny, about him he’s just evil, borrrrring. Every Disney remakes depiction of the characters are boring. I just feel bored out of my mind. Atla one of my favorite shows of all time has a main villain that’s kinda one note, Ozai, but he is actually intimidating guy, azula is the superior character, but I wouldn’t consider her a villain she is an antagonist though. I honestly don’t get why Hollywood thinks that just creating a character with no personality and whose only goals is to be evil is good.

So back to midori for a second, here is my question, when midori was on screen did you ever feel bored? Never right! Because despite midori being an evil character he has an actual personality, he’s fun, you want to punch him in the balls. Because midori has other personality traits than evil, midori is petty, childish, extremely intelligent, controlling, a natural manipulator, he is a trickster, he doesn’t seem to get some social norms, he is narcissistic, easily angry, and fears death etc See how I counted a lot of traits, traits that in other character would works, midori has positive traits, and I think that is the best thing nankidai could have ever done, midori has traits that a regular person could have. Which is why if I put midori in any settings his character would work.

Example, instead of a death game the cast is under the sea to discover the insane wildlife and supernatural stuff happening, what would midori do in this situation? Well he would very passionate about finding all of what’s happening, he’ll do anything to find out, even sometime sacrificing others, not only will he try to find what’s happening, but he is also going to try to find a way to make this discovery favour him in the end. Or let’s imagine it’s a vampire situation, where a vampire attacks the city, midori would try to stop it, not because he cares, but to experiment on them to get their biology and finds the real secret of immortality since he fears death.

Here is my second advice, after creating your character try to imagine them in another completely different situation, like normal life, or a fantasy world, ask yourself the question what would they do in that environment? If you can find a real complete explanation of their actions then yes your character has multiples dimensions if not try thinking about it again. Some example of questions I do want to point out are some like “if my character had all the power in the world what would they do first or”, “if my character had only a day left to live what would they do”

Why is Current media incapable of creating good threats like bruhhhh.

Okay so first of all let’s talk about stakes in a story, let’s say you are watching a slasher movie, slowly the cast gets slimmed down and people die in horrible ways, that should set stakes right ? Well if the villain is an absolute buffoon who makes the stupidest actions and decisions in the world, you wouldn’t feel intimidated at all because despite what the filmmaker might try to say the plot armor will NEVER make a character intimidating. It’s just like a detective character who just seems to know everything without a thought, well you won’t really fear the character failing. Worse is the the final girl, who is for some reason always escaping the slasher guy by pure luck every time, she is shown as incompetent but still she survives, which make the villain seem completely incapable so now you feel nothing.

To avoid this filmmaker often use techniques such has unpredictability, I mean good I mean good ones, for example instead of immediately seeing whose going to survive because the black guys always dies first and the virgin white woman is the last survivor, change the status quo, make us think that this character is obviously safe while they actually aren’t at all. Or actually make them menacing by SHOWING to the audience how horrible dangerous they can be. Which is why SHOW DON’T TELL is so important, telling us how dangerous someone can be only to see them get beaten to death at the end of the movie makes us feel nothing.

Midori felt like a impossible person to beat, he is smart, had twenty plans in advance, even in situation where the cast felt like they might have a chance he was always armed, just like the gun he promised to use or the rocket punch. When they felt like they were finally advancing, he put obstacle in their ways, such as the collar game or the moment he put the collar on explode mode for ranmaru. The entire point in the murder game was to make time pass, it took a long time for the cast top realize that this whole time they were losing precious time not realizing that the dummies were the real problem. The characters that made you feel the most hopeless were the dummies, if you won by killing midori they would die, but if you lost you might lose people you love (keiji or gin). It felt hopeless because they were no solutions in the end. That creates tension so that creates stakes. If we were told how dangerous unpredictable sou was then it wouldn’t hit the same, we are shown that he is that terrible. There is a scene ingame where bbg shin ai tells us that midori tortured and like to destroy people. That’s exposition so TELL, but do you why it works, because we are SHOWN before his behavior. Midori felt unbeatable, so the fact that we were shown his weakness such has his petty behavior, hatred of minors, and fear of death, for the first time it feels like there is a chance that we might survive this. And still after he isn’t shown has an incompetent buffoon, he is one, but the narrative doesn’t show us that he is.

What is also consider is good to make the audience feel actual stakes is to first really develop well the main characters, how can we feel worry for a character if we don’t know them, the audience need to feels emotional connection to the main cast to actually care. You can use things such has moments where there is nothing special happening just character talking getting to know them. Make us feel why we need to care about them possibly losing, instead of being indifferent. Or I don’t know maybe make an entire spin off game where we get to have the cast talk to each other and seeing dynamics between character that died early to get them a chance to shine and make their death even more tragic, or even make mini episodes of characters who only got a single chapter to show off their characteristic, to get us to know them better? But that’s just a silly idea of course, wink, and wink.

My favorite thing about Midori is that he is actually pathetic, like really pathetic, but weirdly realistic?

Midori is the most pathetic character in the cast, yes more than shin, shin is leagues less pathetic. No I’m not saying that midori is not intimidating or scary, I would piss myself if I saw him. He’s a scary guy. But if you look at him more closely you can see that he is a baby brat in a big boy suit.

So let’s start by something clear, Sou Hiyori clearly displays antisocial behavior, or in common terms he is a psychopath/sociopath, this illness is very badly seen in medias, I am not saying that people who lacks empathy like him are inherently bad, he is, a lot of people with antisocial behavior actually suffers a lot and have a difficult life. Sou real issues is not his antisocial behavior, it’s his narcissism and god complex. Sou feels the need to HAVE CONTROL over others, he like the feeling of being in power, he sees the rest of the world has beneath him, toys for his pleasure. He says that he “really like humans” because despite it all he seems to put himself in a different categories than regular people, they are beneath him. When he loses control his calm and cool behavior disappears and we see his true face, a grown man who has throws a tantrum like a baby. One of the best representation of this is midori views on the cast:

Midori hates kanna, like no jokes he has beef with her, a fourteen years old, actually he has beef with a lot of people in the cast. Midori views emotional people has weak, people who are loving optimistic as beneath him and useless. He preferred when sara was cruel and horrible, that’s what he loved about her, he liked seeing her scary emotionless side. But Kanna, kanna is everything he hates. A crybaby who not only puts the group in harmony, is a source of hope in general, is the reason he near got to have closure with shin (killing him), he views kanna as “not fun shin”. We have many proofs for this, if you type the word kanna kizuchi he says this: “Poor Kanna'd weep! I think a more worthless name would be better for someone like me” He mocks her, but also himself (I’lll come back on this later), he calls her worthless. Also in the electric charge minigame, when he can choose who to shocks he chooses two people in particular, kanna who he hates and hinako who ruined his fun by giving the cast a chance in saving ranmaru. But he does also says mean spirited stuff to other people, qtaro and gin. He also says some sarcastic comments about nao and joe, saying that it’s such a shame that they died so young. But you might say why kanna especially? Because he is a petty baby who is jealous of kanna, Yes jealous, of kanna, a fourteen years old. Because he feels like she stole his hubby wubby shin away from him…. God I hate him. And you know what that make him a pathetic idiot, after the scene where kanna beats his ass, he’s all mad and like “uhh I’m going to pout I wanted you to cry like a lot, now I’m gonna cry”. An that’s actually god, because it humanize him, he wants need thoughts, he isn’t one note, and that’s the most important!

Sou is a villain but before that he is a character, a fully developed character, and THAT’S WHAT MAKE HIM GREAT, Sou works because he works realistically, I mean if you forget the robot part, it’s easy to imagine a narcissist man child who needs to feel in power towards other, so his main prey are young vulnerable people.Which leads me to my next point:

Sou is a failure like really, and we aren’t sad for him.

Sou failed everything he worked on, he failed to get the paper from alice, he failed whith shin since he had to leave earlier than he thought he would leave, because of his mistake he lost his position in the death game, then he failed to kill gin or keiji, and then he died like an idiot losing his cool and acting like a toddler. And he knows it that why he is a bit self-hating (he should be). And yet none of us feel any sympathy towards him, why? Because sou is one of the most despicable guy in existence. He is a disgusting pervert, sadistic asshole, and abusive narcissistic cunt who thinks he is better than everyone. From the bottom of my heart I hate him sooooo much he is literally the character I hate the most in existence. He abused shin, ruined keiji’s life, traumatized the entire cast, literally assaulted sara like he physically assaulted her. He mocked nao and joe and kugie life as useless. He is an obsessive jerk AND I HATE HIM. And you know what…… It’s good. Like I actually feel a lot of emotions when I think about him, he fuels me with anger and disgust, and if your characters can make me feel that much rage then you did it, you created an actual perfect character. Hiyori is such a shit person that I think about him a lot, writers shouldn’t be scared to make a character such hittable assholes, example bojack horseman in bojack horseman is the vilest man on earth and I love it, because I genuinely hate him. Just like I genuinely love kanna, like really I really love her, I in the same time despise midori so bad. We hate him because he is horrible to good people that WE KNOW AND CARE ABOUT, not random npcs. There is a lot of… disgusting implications in his story with shin that I will not talk about it makes me really uncomfortable right now. SO HERE IS A VERY TACKY TRANSITION TO TALK ABOUT WHY I HATE JUNKO FROM DANGANRONPA.

Junko is boring, that’s it, she is boring, not funny not interesting, she is a fetish, she is the biggest Mary sue on earth, she is a gross character made to make fun of people with disabilities and queer people. Her only traits is being crazy, that’s it. I wouldn’t call midori that crazy actually, he’s methodical calculated, and precise. Crazyness is a term for people who aren’t in control of their actions and delusional about reality, sou is not crazy, he knows what he is doing, he is in full control, while characters like shin should actually be consider crazy, like shin is actually crazy but sou isn’t.

Conclusion:

Sou is a breath of fresh air, because nankidai had the balls to write an actually interesting deep and threatening character AND make him a villain. He didn’t fall into the trap of making him have a sad backstory or good motives, sou is just selfish, that’s all he is. He make him a fun entertaining guy who you absolutely hates, he made him threatening and at the same time a complete doofus. He made him humane and pathetic.

But the thing that make me love nankidai the most is this

The fact that he actually killed him that takes courage as a writer to just end a character THAT WAY, which is why midori will never come back alive he is forever dead. And that take a lot of talents as a writer to just take one of the most important characters and just get him drilled to death in the anus, like dammn nankidai you are a savage. That fact alone makes him one of the best characters in game, I hate him as a person, but has a character he is a masterpiece.

Though Kanna could solo him

this was posted as a video on my blog this is mainly so people who don't want to stay there reading a 24 minute video of my stuttering can have a bit of quiet

#yttd #your turn to die #kimi ga shine #shin tsukimi #kanna kizuchi #sou hiyori #midori yttd #cna you tell i have no life #i spend a part of my short existence writing about fucking midori #yttd analysis #frenchgremlim polls of laziness

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edges-of-night · 9 months

Note

Hello I noticed you were taking requests and I had a little bit of an angsty request if you're willing.

Could you perhaps do how the lotr characters react to their reader SO opening up about having a bad childhood.

Please don't do if it makes you uncomfy.

Have a nice day,

led

I’m sorry you had to wait so long for your request – I hope you enjoy the post!

I would also like to thank you for requesting this topic so politely. It admittedly wasn’t easy to write for me, but I really appreciated your understanding tone! Have a nice day as well!

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Aragorn shows great understanding for what you have told him. He would quietly thank you for trusting him with such knowledge and instantly offer to care and comfort you, should you need it, like holding your hand as he presses a tender kiss to your head. It is needless to say he would treat anything you told him very discreetly and respectfully.

･ﾟ✧ Arwen.

Arwen would feel with you. No matter where you opened up to her, she would instantly offer to go take a walk with her. “I may not be able change what happened to you,” she’d whisper as she took your hand. “But I can make sure that such things will never happen to you again.” Though her voice may seem sombre, she always has a comforting smile or hug for you!

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir would have great empathy for you, remembering his own difficult childhood – especially in consideration of his brother. Although he isn’t too talkative when it comes to this subject, he is in tune with his own emotions. It helps you come to terms with your own past. You two bond over what has been and take refuge in the knowledge that you now have each other and are faraway from the past.

･ﾟ✧ Elrond.

Elrond would quietly listen to what you told him and offer you comfort with a stern expression. But inside, he is quite upset – as a father himself, you would not be able to bear what you had told him. He would treat you even kinder afterwards, looking out for you and trying to avoid any triggers that could remind you of your childhood hardship.

･ﾟ✧ Éomer.

After listening to your story, Éomer would tell you how much strength it takes to open up about such things. He is deeply impressed with how you handle your past – even if you thought you did a poor job at it. He will have none of that self-loathing in his company! “I do not want to hear you speak so ill of yourself again. You were but a child. Look how strong you became despite what happened! I am endlessly proud of you.”

･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.

What you tell Éowyn is something she carries around with her for a long time, even if she doesn’t show it. She cannot understand how someone who went through such hardship can still come out such a kind and noble person. She now tries to bring more joy into your life and shield you from possible harm. She won’t bring up the topic anew, unless you ask her to talk again, of course.

･ﾟ✧ Faramir.

With Faramir, you could very easily bond over difficult childhoods. You simply understand each other, more than other people could. With him, you could even talk regularly about what had happened to you. Faramir helps you put everything into perspective, or offers you words of advise and comfort. You can do the same for him and always feel relieved afterwards, when you cuddle in silence, content with your quasi-therapeutic conversation.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

Where Frodo comes from, people do not talk about childhood problems or trauma. So you opening up to him comes as quite the surprise. That said, he does understand – not everything. But he doesn’t have to. You are content to just have someone say, “I’m really sorry that happened to you.” Frodo offers you help whenever he can and is careful and considerate to keep possible triggers away from you. “We’ll manage this together. Right?” he’d say with a soft smile, stroking a gentle thumb over your hand.

･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.

Galadriel is a very empathetic Elf, so she feels alongside with you. If you cried during your conversation, it is likely she would shed a tear as well. That said, she would of course have wise words of advice and healing for you. “You have my sympathy for what happened to you. Just know that your past does not define you. Each of us makes their own destiny.”

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf may not have had a childhood himself, but he has seen enough to know that such a thing isn’t easy to live with. Though he may not answer you immediately – maybe he wonders what to say after all? – you can feel that you have his empathy. And somehow, you really do believe that things will be fine when the one saying that platitude is Gandalf the Grey.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

Gimli is a surprisingly good listener, you learn as you open up to him. He is silent and probably saddened by what he heard, but afterwards, he would definitely tell you how proud he is of you for not only surviving your past but putting it into words now, years later. He’d also give you a soft smile and promise you that things will get brighter.

･ﾟ✧ Haldir.

Haldir is probably the last person you wanted to tell about your bad childhood – but it happened anyway. You simply couldn’t bear his snarky and jealous comments about your ‘perfect upbringing’ anymore. Needless to say, he would fall entirely silent after your retelling. He would now see you in a new light and respect you even more for having survived all that you told him about. Somewhere along the line, he’d even offer you a hug!

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

You and Legolas would bond over your parents and hardship as children and young adults. As an Elf, Legolas is not very much in touch with negative memories and emotions, as they are literally unhealthy for him. Together, you work through what you experienced. Even though your conversations leave him pensive, he would always thank you the next day for the knowledge you shared.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Merry would be an exceptionally good listener. He may be childish from time to time, but he recognises the sincerity of your conversation early on. He also has unexpectedly wise words for you and encourages you to speak less derogatory about yourself. “You were just a child. And these things weren’t supposed to happen to you. To no one, really. Come on. Be kind to yourself.” He’d also take your hand sit in silence with you for as long as you need!

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Pippin would need a few moments to understand what you said. His childhood has been great, he has no bad feelings or memories for it. That does not mean that he would be ignorant to your feelings though. Sharing your story with him not only helps you process what has happened to you, but also teaches him to seek out new perspective. In the end, Pippin would offer you a big pot of ice cream as comfort ♡

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

After hearing your story, Sam would sit in silence for a few moments, thinking about what he heard. Then he would try and comfort you with an allegory or comparison that reflected your childhood – he is a poet at heart after all. Though he struggles to find the right words, his care and sincerity soothe you. Somehow you know that, no matter how dark your days may get, there is always sunshine in your life when you’re with Samwise Gamgee.

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teenidlegirl · 4 months

Text

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓐 𝓟𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄 𝓞𝐅 𝓐𝐑𝐓 .ᐟ

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ bio prof!miguel 𝓍 art prof!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

꣑୧⠀˖ ࣪ .⠀𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚⠀.ᐟ⠀⊹ the university hired a new art professor. she is the talk of the town, capturing everyone’s attention, especially the handsome biology professor.

꣑୧⠀˖ ࣪ .⠀𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀.ᐟ⠀⊹ college!au, coworkers to lovers, pure fluff, sorta slow-burn, some swearing, miguel is smitten af

( ꯭♡︎ ) ˖ ࣪ . love note ˒˒ there aren’t many professor!miguel x professor!reader fics out there so i decided to write one. ♡

after a long yet dreadful lecture, his morning class was his least favorite and includes some of his least favorite students, it was finally break time. stirring his freshly made coffee with a spoon, miguel takes a sip. a low hum of approval escapes him, pleased with the taste of the sugar and cream within the coffee. he remains standing by the counter, avoiding the other professors in the lounge. it’s not that he doesn’t necessarily likes his colleagues, well there were a few that were a pain in the ass, he’s just not a big social guy. in full honesty, he is only friends with two colleagues. other than that, no one else.

he lives on his own, making bank as a biology professor and occasionally boxes. hardly goes out because that isn’t his thing and sees no point of doing so. plus the amount of lab reports and projects he grades always keeps him occupied. boxing at the local boxing place that’s a few blocks away from his apartment building is the only time he has for himself. just a simple man living his life.

although, his love life says a different story. miguel can’t even recall the last time he engaged with a woman. maybe months? or possibly a year? in conclusion, it’s been a hot minute. it’s not that he’s desperate. his job has been kicking his ass, always keeping him busy that he doesn’t have time to date.

while thinking about the upcoming project he has planned, a slightly aggressive pat on the shoulder snaps him out of his thinking.

“so, how was the morning class?” peter, a physics professor and one of the two friends/colleagues, asked with a sly smirk on his face.

miguel lets out an annoyed grunt, rolling his eyes. “you know the answer to that, parker.” he takes another sip of his coffee.

“aw come on. is it really that bad? or maybe you’re just a shitty professor and are the reason why you have least favorite students.” peter jokes.

the tall brooding man shoots him a glare, earning a chuckle from his colleague.

peter raise his hands in the air as a sign of defense. “relax, miguel. try living up for once.” he lets out another chuckle at the end.

before he could answer back, the sounds of gasps and excitement comes from the entrance of the lounge room. miguel turn his head in that direction to find several colleagues huddled around something. his brows furrowed in confusion when he can’t see whatever is attracting attention. just as one person moves to the side, the center of attention is revealed.

a woman dressed in a cozy outfit with little white heels, hair flowing down freely. you greet the staff members with a gentle smile, appreciating their kind greetings and welcomes. of course as your first day, you’re a bit nervous but the kindness and empathy from others calms you a little. maybe it’ll be okay.

the way miguel’s eyes dilated drastically at the sight of you. his lips partially opened in pure astonishment. wow he discovered the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. can beauty even describe you the best? the way your lips curl up into a smile just warms his heart, or practically his entire soul. he doesn’t even know you yet he’s completely mesmerized.

“oh yeah, that’s the new art professor. [y/n] [l/n]. heard she’s very nice.” peter said before taking a sip of his coffee, making miguel snap out of trance.

what a beautiful name, truly compliments with your angelic face. and an art professor? it suits you, based off on your appearance. miguel is utterly captivated, enthralled by you. wow — he has never felt like this about a woman before and that surprises him. sure, he had his share in the past but this was different. you are like the rare, hidden flower in the garden that hasn’t been picked yet but too fragile to be picked at all. you are the sun that shines vibrantly after a thunderstorm, providing such warmth and light.

you are a piece of art.

suddenly, the immense desire to reach out to you consumes miguel entirely. he yearns to speak with you, to know about you. although, considering it’s been a long time since he had done that sorta thing, he feels a bit anxious to do so.

nevertheless, you captured his attention.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

that opportunity came quick when he caught you in the teacher’s lounge again one day. surprisingly, you both take your lunch break at the same time. while engaging in a conversation with his other friend and fellow colleague jessica, a political science professor, his eyes lit up slighty as you entered the room. whatever jessica was babbling about was completely blocked out in his ears, his eyes solely fixated on you. miguel’s brows furrowed a little as he watched you pick an empty table near the back corner. deep in his heart, he wanted you to sit with him so you wouldn’t be alone. his expression didn’t go unnoticed by jessica, causing her to raise a brow at him. turning around to see what got his attention, the invisible light bulb on top of her head turned on.

“you should ask if she wants to join us.” she suggests, turning back and continues eating her pasta without making eye contact with him.

his eyes snap back at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. “what?”

the woman rolled her eyes in annoyance. she isn’t blind, she knew of miguel’s little crush on you ever since she caught him staring at you one day in the hallways. “just go over and ask, you dumbo.”

miguel shoots her a deadpanned look. yeah, if only it were so easy, he thought. why is he so hesitant, anxious to ask a person a simple question? however, you weren’t just a regular person to him, were you?

before he could answer back, his eyes turns to you as you walked past his table and head over to the counter. miguel slightly turns to the observer you. he definitely didn’t expect you to walk past him, which surprised him wholeheartedly. what he didn’t see though is the smirk on jessica’s face.

using the microwave, you placed the small container of teriyaki chicken and white rice inside. after warming it up for a minute, you take it out and stir it with a fork to balance out the temperature so one side isn’t hotter than the other.

just as you’re walking back to your table, jessica kicks miguel’s leg under the table as a sign for him to ask you the damn question. he quickly shoots her a glare, which she returns one as well. knowing how stubborn he is, jessica decides to do it for him.

“hey, you’re [y/n], right? the new art professor?” she asked with a gentle smile.

you stop in your tracks, right in front of their table. “oh yes!” you chirped, returning the smile.

what a heavenly voice, miguel thought. it smooths his ears gracefully. it would definitely ease his workaholic mind in an instant.

“nice to meet you, [y/n]. i’m jessica but you can call me jess. this is miguel.” she gestured at the broad man sitting across from her.

you turn and flash him a kind smile.

his heart fluttered and cheeks flushed at the sight of your gorgeous smile. he is such a bashful mess. you’re even more beautiful up close.

“you would like to sit with us? we know you’re new here and thought you could use some friends.” jessica elaborated, really emphasizing on the ‘we’ which earned her a glare from miguel.

your eyes lit up at the suggestion, smiling. “oh sure! how nice of you guys! lemme just go grab my stuff real quick.” you said before walking away, heading back to the table to gather your belongings.

jessica turns to face miguel. “you’re welcome.” she said flatly before taking a bite of her pasta.

miguel rolled his eyes in annoyance, upset that jessica did the simple task he was supposed to do and yet — he couldn’t. damn his anxiety. although, he is pleased that you agreed sit with them. maybe now he’ll get the chance to get to know you. he should probably thank jessica afterwords.

you return with your tote bag and sat down in the free seat between miguel and jessica. his eyes followed your every movement, secretly admiring you. he can’t help the feeling of his heart beating faster now that you’re right there, in front of him in all of your glory. as you babbled about yourself, miguel was attentive to every word, learning all the things about you. he could listen to you all the time, your angelic voice soothes him. his heart warmed at the sight whenever you smiled while talking about your hobbies and things you’re passionate about.

he admired the beautiful artwork in front of him.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

things got more intriguing when you stumbled upon his classroom one day. he was in the middle of grading lab reports when he heard heels clicking and a knock of the door. turning his head in that direction, miguel found you standing in the doorway with a smile that graced your gorgeous lips.

“hey, sorry for bothering you.” you said sweetly.

“you’re never a bother.” he replied quickly, offering a small smile in return. miguel truly meant that; you were never a bother. he’d stop whatever he’s doing and put all of his attention on you.

“i accidentally brought too much pasta and i don’t wanna waste it. plus, i assume you haven’t eaten since you weren’t at the lounge today. do you want the rest?” you asked with a soft smile, holding up the small plastic container in your hand.

god miguel fell even harder for you than he already did in the beginning. what a kindhearted and caring soul. he didn’t even realized that he hasn’t eaten or brought anything yet you remembered and were kind enough to offer your leftover pasta.

“that’s kind of you. are you sure?” miguel asked.

you softly smiled at him. “of course. can’t leave with an empty stomach, need the energy.” you walk over to his desk and hand over the container of pasta.

his heart fluttered when you approached, faint stains of pink on his cheeks. his eyes land on the container, gingerly taking it from your grasp. his fingers lightly brushed against yours, feeling your soft skin which made his heart jump in anticipation.

“thank you.” he mirrors your smile, reflecting the kindness you offered to him.

you simply smile with a nod before walking out of his classroom, leaving him smitten to the core.

that was beginning of your bond.

the next encounter was during your lunch break, which both of your breaks happen to be at the same time, miguel caught you sitting by yourself in the lounge peacefully eating while writing something in a planner of sorts. he build the courage and took the chance to approach you. his heart fluttered the moment your eyes perked up when you saw him, that beautiful smile on your glossy lips. you immediately said yes for him to sit with you which made miguel happy.

“writing down something important?” he asks softly, pointing at your planner.

you nod happily with a hum. “just writing down things i need to do for the week. i really like planners, they’re such a great tool. plus, i’m a very organized person so i like to write out schedules and stuff.”

wow just by how you explained in such a simple gentle way yet hints of passion in your tone is so captivating to him. miguel admires that trait of yours, organization is an important skill for maintaining your lifestyle. he values that skill as well but probably not as well and neat like you. he continues to be enthralled by you.

“i’m organized also. well, i try to be but all the grading and assignments have been—“

“time consuming.” you finish his sentence with that iconic soft smile that always warms his heart.

miguel stares at you astonishingly for a moment but ultimately smiles back. you truly understand the difficulties of balancing work and personal affairs as a professor yourself. honestly, any worker would understand. jobs are undoubtedly time consuming but never forget to focus on your personal life.

you two share a moment of pleasant silence, a mutual understanding while smiling at each other.

“so what inspired you to purse a passion for art?” miguel was very curious to know how you developed such a passion with art. even though science is his main route, he likes learning about other subjects especially those he isn’t fully familiar with. art is one of them and miguel would love to know from you.

he didn’t miss the way your smile grew bigger at the question. “since i was a child, i drew a lot. my parents told me i had a gift, how creative i was in my drawings even at a young age. in school, whenever i was bored or done with an assignment, i would doodle in my notes and people would compliment on my drawings. as i grew, my skills improved then i realized that what i wanted to do in my life.”

miguel was attentive to every word and was still amazed by you. he could imagine the amount of pages with your little drawings inside. they would be in the corners if they were small, on the center if they were big. he noticed you wear floral print commonly so miguel assumed most drawings were flowers.

you are a flower; a very elegant one.

“wow that’s amazing, truly inspiring and admirable. i don’t doubt your talent, your work must be incredible.” miguel said sincerely with a smile.

a bashful smile creeps onto your lips, very faint hints of blush on your cheeks. “you’re too kind, thank you. i want to reflect my passion onto my students, inspiring them to develop a passion of their own. to show how admirable yet alluring art can be.“

how passionate you are with your work captivates him in so many ways. how brightly you smile, the softness in your tone, your gorgeous eyes lighting up with each phrase. he adores it so much.

it’s like miguel is looking at a piece of art right in front of him.

a piece of artwork he deeply admires.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

one day, you took miguel to an art museum since he revealed he has never visited one before. he was captivated by every piece. a smile formed on your face when you watched him stare in awe at an oil painting of still-life flowers. those brown irises tracing each detail of the beautiful painting. the texture, emphasis, contrast, and value. the vibrant colors and how beautifully blended they are. you explained to miguel the principles of art and elements of design, providing a little art lesson. you could tell he was truly fascinated by it all.

you head over to the sculpture section to look at iconic greek, egyptian and roman sculptures. you glance at a greek sculpture, admiring its beauty. you elaborate on the significance of nudity in ancient greek art, the male form as the true peak human form. miguel was truly astonished by that information but mainly with your knowledge.

“you would be a perfect greek sculpture.” you whispered, leaning a bit towards him.

he looks at you with a little smirk, amused by your comment. “really?”

you nod with a smile, titling your head a bit. “greek sculptors would’ve adored, admired your form. they would probably say you are the perfect form.”

that smirk turned into a smile, mirroring yours. “would probably take ages to sculpt me.” a low chuckle escaped his plump lips, making you chuckle as well which warmed his heart.

“maybe but it would be worth it.” you softly smile.

after your little art adventure, it was miguel’s turn to share his passion. he brought you to his classroom to demonstrate a lab his students recently did. you sat and observed his work, admiring how passionate and concentrating he is. it was clear miguel wanted to impress you, and in fact he did which he was proud of. biology is an incredible topic, how extraordinary living organisms truly are.

“it’s so extraordinary.” you commented while looking at cells through a microscope.

“it is, huh?” miguel quirks an eyebrow with arms folded over his chest, a smile gracing his lips as he watches you from the side.

you nod as you look up from the microscope, mirroring his smile. “yes, biology or science in general is just extraordinarily fascinating.”

he can’t help but smile more at your comment, how sweetly you talk about his passion as if it’s yours as well. miguel was seriously head over heels for you.

“so is art.” he said softly, smiling.

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

onwards, you two would hangout together in the teachers lounge or in each other’s classrooms during whenever you two weren’t teaching. you got to know one another. each others hobbies, families, friends, movies and shows you enjoy. surprisingly, you have a few things in common, especially in movies. both of you are suckers for sci-fi and thriller films. when you mentioned your favorite movie was terminator, oh miguel started babbling like crazy and conversing with you how fantastic of a movie it is. you two were really engaged in that conversation. miguel was more fond of you than ever, pleased to know you two share common interests. you could say the same as well. you enjoyed spending time with him, discussing topics you both enjoyed. you grew fond of him too.

as time went, you two continued hangout even outside of working hours. you’d spend time at cafés, restaurants, or at each other’s homes. it was a beautiful bond, such a deep connection you two possessed. you continued learning new things about each other during these cute outings. miguel never felt so alive and human. it was refreshing to be not cooped up in his apartment, grading assignments during unholy hours. free from torment, a prison. hanging out with you, he felt happy and comfortable. talking to someone who radiates kindness, who views him not as a coworker but as a person. miguel never felt so vulnerable valued by anyone. that made him realize he was falling in love with you.

after much time of those special bonding days, your true feelings were finally revealed. during one night in miguel’s apartment while watching a movie and sipping coffee, he confessed his feelings. when he did, he was anxious for your reaction. negative thoughts plagued his mind. what if you didn’t feel the same? what if you only view him as a friend and nothing more? luckily, those thoughts were proven wrong when you confessed the same feelings too. miguel had never felt so happy in his life.

that was the moment you shared your first kiss.

and from that moment onwards, you and miguel spent the rest of your lives together in pure happiness and everlasting love.

two souls together in a beautiful painting.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ˖ ࣪ ༘ @x0tw0d57 @nakedcrackers @peachipeachy @arlovesper @loves0phelia @eatalyy @kawaii-angelanne @migoharawife @corpsebridenightamare

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓞𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 .ᐟ #bio professor!miguel #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #oneshot

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soobpricity · 1 month

Text

this love - kang taehyun

final letter ; kiss me

synopsis: what happens when soccer player!kang taehyun, who isn’t focused on school but is smart enough to pass, sees yn walk in the hallways nearly everyday after homecoming. taehyun’s new hallway crush begins to grow into something bigger, but what happens when he has to make a choice between yn or continuing to fail school ? will taehyun be able to focus on sports, classes, and trying to win yn over ?

“yn this is so ridiculous.” beomgyu stated, pacing around in your room with you. a slick black tuxedo showed off his more sharper side, the side of beomgyu that would make just about anyone swoon. “you can’t just let him get away with the shit he pulled.

“i’m not letting him get away with anything beomgyu… i’m just making sure he’s serious about all of this.. and maybe i just need to make sure that if he isn’t serious then i won’t feel attached.”

“and you’re doing that by giving him the favor of spending an important night with him ?” beomgyu sighed, he knew that you just wanted to spend the night with taehyun. it was the thing that you were looking forward to throughout the past few months ever since taehyun had promposed, beomgyu knew that. he listened to you ramble on about how much taehyun cared for you and how magical you imagined the night would go. “are you denying the truth or are you lying to me ?”

you turned your head, as beomgyu took a seat next to you. you avoided making eye contact with him.

“i still like him.. beomgyu.. i just..- i know he didn’t have a choice. he did what he thought was good for me, and even if it wasn’t the right thing.. he still put me over his own self. y’know… it’s the thought that has me so stuck up on him. but i don’t want to let him win me over so easily, i want to hate him, but i can’t..” you admit, feeling a bit embarrassed from your confession to beomgyu. which he only put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in a bit.

“have you talked to sunghoon since y’know.. that day..?” beomgyu hesitantly asked as you pulled away a bit to make eye contact with the boy who sat in front of you.

“no.. i’ve been trying to talk to him but he’s been avoiding me. sunghoon’s a cool person and all, but i don’t think i ever saw him in that way.. y’know ?” you questioned, “even when i wasn’t with taehyun, i think.. i just always saw sunghoon as a friend.”

“don’t feel bad just because you didn’t have the same feelings, yn. that’s probably why sunghoon didn’t tell you, he probably knew that you’d feel so guilty over not liking him back. in fact, im surprised that you didn’t end up with him out of guilt.” beomgyu advised, a tiny smile reappearing on your face. you pulled beomgyu into a tight, warm hug.

“thank you so much, beomgyu.. for like- everything. you’re always looking out for me. and even though you don’t really like taehyun, you’re supporting my feelings.. and you always have.” you can’t help but feel your heart warm up from looking back at just how much beomgyu has been supporting you no matter what. everyone knew beomgyu as a silly guy who took nothing serious, but others knew beomgyu took him as this serious person who always showed empathy to those he loved. however, you knew the real beomgyu, the beomgyu who would give anyone the cold shoulder if they gave you the wrong look. the real beomgyu that constantly gave you a shoulder to cry on and would make you laugh the tears away. beomgyu wasn’t just funny or only sympathetic, beomgyu was a passionate person who cared about his loved ones, he wanted to see them laugh while also being sure to be the supportive person that he always wished to be. and he never failed at making you comfortable, you always felt like you could rant to him, and you always knew that you could tell him a terrible dad joke and he would still give you an impressive laugh which would only prove to be contagious as you would start a fit of laughter.

beomgyu was.. beomgyu. a kind hearted boy who was there for all the people he loved. if you were sure that you wanted to be with taehyun, then he was okay with it.

“that’s what i’m here for ! just, don’t replace me..” beomgyu mumbled into your shoulder. a small huff coming from your mouth as you suddenly pull away from the hug, catching beomgyu completely off guard.

“ha ! as if you’re replaceable !! you’re a one of a kind beomgyu !!” you jokingly argue, seeing beomgyu’s lips grow into a huge grin. just as the two of you were about to get into another rage of laughter, you phone rang, seeing the bolded letters read ‘taehyun 🚫’. you took a look at beomgyu then back at your phone.

“answer it !” beomgyu exclaimed, picking up your phone and handing it to you as you panicked to swipe the green phone button.

“hello..?” taehyun answered the phone wondering why there was no noise coming from your end. he fumbled with the buttons on his tuxedo, being sure to look his nicest for you.

“oh. hi !” you say a bit too aggressively even though you didn’t mean to come off aggressive. you nervously begin to bite at your lip, before stopping due to receiving a cold stare from beomgyu.

“yn.. i’m outside for whenever you’re ready..” taehyun mumbled into the phone, taking out a bouquet from the backseat of his car. he messed around with the petals ensuring that the bouquet looked as lively as it could.

beomgyu gave you one last look, “if you don’t think you can spend the rest of the night with taehyun. just give us as call.. and we’ll be by your side,” you grinned, thanking beomgyu for his kind actions and for offering his shoulder for support. beomgyu had proven himself to be your biggest supporter ever. you give him one final hug before hurrying outside, spotting taehyun. his eyes widened as he took a singular look at you. his heart pounding, his anxiety piling onto him as he took a minute to catch a breath, trying to find words to tell you.

“yn.. you look.. really really pretty..” taehyun complimented, sticking out a bouquet filled with different colored hydrangeas. a tiny smile on his face, he pointed to the pink hydrangeas, “pink hydrangeas are the most romantic flowers… umm.. they also resemble a beating heart..” taehyun mumbled the last part, his own heart beating at a rapid pace. he couldn’t mess this up at all, he had to make you happy no matter what. if you wanted him to spend thousands of dollars on a piece of jewelry then he was willing to go into debt for the rest of his life to make you happy. and taehyun was sure that he’d never regret that decision, especially since it was something that he was doing for you. if you wanted him to truly stay away from you for the rest of your life then he was willing to do so if it was going to make you happy. if there was anything in the world that you wanted or wished to happen, then taehyun was willing to do anything to make it happen.

“thanks..” you sent a tiny and awkward smile towards taehyun’s way. he reached out for your hand, which you hesitantly accepted, on the roof of his car, rested a small box. he opened it, a blue hydrangea peeking its petals out from the box. he picked up the flower from the box, attached to it was a pearly bracelet. taehyun’s placed the corsage onto your wrist. “what does this one mean..” you knew very well what a blue hydrangea meant, but something inside of you wanted to make sure that taehyun was on the same page as you. you needed to know that taehyun didn’t just get a blue hydrangea because he thought it was cute. luckily for you, taehyun did extensive research on hydrangeas, he didn’t stop for the first flower that he found. rather he took time to find a flower that you liked while knowing the meaning behind it.

“so many people agree that blue hydrangeas are really, really pretty.. but personally i’ve said things to you that i don’t mean… things that i regret ever even thinking about saying to you, so.. blue hydrangeas represent regret and apology. i’m sorry for everything i've done to you, sorry for all the pain i’ve caused you.. please be patient with me.” a soft smile appeared on your face, happy to see taehyun pass your test.

“should we just.. forget about everything ?” you asked, so far you were pleased with the way that taehyun was treating you, you were so impressed with everything that taehyun had done for you so far, in all honesty this was just the beginning. you wanted to spend the rest of the night with taehyun, happily. you at least wanted a remarkable prom night, and even though you wanted to hate taehyun, something inside of you just couldn’t bring yourself to truly hate the boy.. that very same thing inside of you told you that taehyun was the only person who could grant you a happy night. “at least for tonight..”

“if it’ll make you happy, we can do anything you’d like.” taehyun grinned, pulling you into a sweetly warm embrace. he grabbed your bouquet, placing it in the backseat of his car, before hurrying over to open the passenger door for you. which you gladly accepted, taking a seat in the passenger’s seat. waiting for him to come over to the driver’s seat, which you didn’t wait long for him to do.

the two of you sat in silence on your way to the venue, not much to say after taehyun had given his apology. you continuously looked at the corsage that taehyun had gifted you, eyes trying to hide just how much you loved it. the smile that you tried to hold back, the one that would give away all just how vulnerable you were to taehyun’s loving actions. everything that he had done so far was telling you exactly just how the night was going to end. how you were going to be back into your romantic dream of a relationship. taehyun noticed the look behind your eyes, a bit of relaxation running through him, his eyes staying on the road, yet a part of him still wanted to turn to look at your flustered state. your focus moved from the corsage to the dark blue sky, attempting to calm your flustered state down. you were nearly worried that taehyun could hear the intense pounding of your heart. it had been such a good minute since you had felt so.. loved.

you caught the passing scenery, beginning to melt into the current warmth that you felt emitting from taehyun and perhaps the nervous yet excited feeling that you felt deep down in your tummy. taehyun put the car in park as soon as he found parking outside the venue. you stepped outside the car, waiting for taehyun patiently as he walked around. hand in hand, the two of you walked towards the entrance of the venue taking out your ticket to show the two teachers who were waiting by the entrance to overlook any kind of people who were sneaking in. as soon as both you and taehyun gave them your names, they nicely welcomed you in, wishing you an amazing night.

“did you eat beforehand ?” taehyun yelled into your ear, attempting to speak over the music. you could barely catch what he was saying, nodding to his question, before asking him the same thing. taehyun just nodded, knowing that he was lying because he just couldn’t bring himself to have a meal, not when he felt so nervous and clammy. this entire time, he had put so much work and effort into your relationship, and all he could wish for was for tonight to go his way.

both you and taehyun spent sometime dancing with each other, quietly. the two of you were too afraid to say anything, afraid to break the oddly calm tension between you two. however, just as you left the dance floor.

you caught sunghoon’s presence, watching as he tried to pass by you and hoping to not grab your attention. however that seemed to fail as you grabbed a hold of his wrist, taehyun watching intently, feeling worried. had he done something wrong ? were you going to ditch him for sunghoon ? his overthinking began to overwhelm him, keeping his hand in yours. hoping that you wouldn’t call him out for his sweaty palms. it was impossible to not notice the clingy hold that taehyun had on your hand, worried that you’d leave him. you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, pulling him to your side.

“sunghoon ?”

“oh, yn.” you noticed ning ning by his side as she began to feel quite awkward. after sunghoon had discussed everything out with taehyun, he decided to take ning ning out as his friendly prom date. she didn’t mean to avoid you like sunghoon had suggested, but she did want to avoid any question about who she was going to prom with which eventually meant avoiding you and beomgyu, even taehyun as well. for some odd reason, she felt like she was betraying you by agreeing to sunghoon’s promposal.

“can we talk ?” you asked, giving a look between sunghoon and ning, trying to silently propose to talk alone. however you received a returning look from sunghoon to taehyun. you turned to look a him, holding onto his hand. a affirmative smile and a gentle shoulder squeeze was all it took to get him to stop worrying as much as he was. you followed sunghoon off to a more private area, less people surrounding you than where you were previously at. now you were in some sort of hallway that seemed to lead to the restrooms. two windows on the left wall and a painting hung in between the gap of the two windows. a small table underneath the painting.

“what do you want to talk about ?” sunghoon casually questioned, it nearly seemed as if the two of you had no issues to talk out.

“about me and you.. y’know exactly what i want to talk about ?”

“i do ?” sunghoon sarcastically answered, his eyebrow raised as he moved his foot, nearly playing around like a child.

“yes.. y’know, you liking me.. why are you avoiding me ? i’m sorry that i didn’t like you back, but i really loved you as a friend and i just don’t want us to fall apart due to such trivial issues.”

“well to you it may be trivial, yn. but this shit felt like the world to me. i helped you get through your breakup with taehyun and i know that he and i had this whole conversation about how he quite actually has your heart, but you need to give me some space, i can’t just.. i can’t just get over you so quickly. just trust me, a little more time to myself and i promise, we’ll be back to how we used to be, okay ?” he raised his eyebrows one last time before seeing you nod. “okay, don’t ruin your night because of me, i think taehyun wants to dance one last time with you.” sunghoon turned around and made immense eye contact with taehyun as you tried to see where he was looking at, as soon as you spotted taehyun, you went right into his direction. attempting to push through the crowd to get to taehyun, who ended up doing the same thing, meeting him in the middle of the crowd, tiny smiles created.

the two of you followed the crowd, hearing the supervisors countdown to their announcement on prom king and queen. you held taehyun nearby, even playing with his fingers, awaiting for the announcement to be made. the way that the two of you were together fooled everyone, it seemed as if nothing ever happened and as if nothing could ever happen to split the two of you apart. the body language was the same as to when you and taehyun were still together with only a few differences that only the two of you could notice, the only other difference was the lack of words that the two of you were barely exchanging.

“after counting all the votes, tonight’s prom king is..” your principal leads up to the answer asking for a drum roll before quickly announcing, “kang taehyun !!” you clap for the boy, immediately releasing him from your grasp. as he stood there, taking a minute to process everything. you ushered him up to the stage, before attempting to leave.

“yn.. don’t go just yet.” taehyun winked before proceeding to give back the spotlight to your principal. she gave a tiny smile, knowing that taehyun had worked rather hard for his plan to be fulfilled.

“and it’s only fitting to announce that tonight’s prom queen, is none other than, l/n y/n !!” the principal announced, you stood there stunned, seeing taehyun hold out his hand for you. for the past month he had spent time communicating with his close friends and any acquaintances to vote for you and him as both king and queen. spending time persuading his close friends to tell anyone they knew to vote for you. and to be fair, taehyun was the school’s sweetheart, it was impossible to not do as he kindly asked. you hesitantly took his hand, shyly walking up the stage.

you and taehyun had plastic crowns placed on your heads, a tiny smile on your face, unable to believe everything that was happening. you couldn’t believe that even the principal knew all about taehyun’s plan. slow music began to play, as you knew that the prom king and queen had to dance together, the two of you moved down to the center of the dance floor, placing you hand on taehyun’s shoulder, as he placed his hand on your waist. the two of you gently moved to the rhythm as everyone else followed, getting their loved one or even their closest friend and beginning to slow dance with them.

“i want you for worse or for better, i would wait forever and ever. broke your heart, i’ll put it back together.” taehyun nervously whispered into your ear, his hands caressing yours as he pulled away placing a small grin on his face. a ridiculous amount of butterflies filled your stomach, forgetting that you and taehyun were in the center of the dance floor. ignoring all the people around you, a giggle exiting your mouth as you realized exactly what taehyun was saying.

“are you serious ?” you spoke, a smile decorating your face as you looked into taehyun’s eyes. eyes filled with nothing but love for you, nothing you would refuse to accept.

“you’re really pretty.” taehyun commented, his ears beginning to burn after being caught reusing taylor swift lyrics in order to save his own relationship. he changed the subject, fixing the gem-filled crown that rested atop your head. his hand moved to rest on your waist extending the arm that kept your hand in his, his hand left your waist in order to move your hand onto his shoulder, before returning to your waist. as he began to move his feet to the rhythm.

“you’re so cute.” you broke taehyun’s long rampage of silence, a smirk returning to his face as his confidence was beginning to fade back into his life.

“but you’re even cuter.” taehyun brought his hand up to caress your cheek. a comforting atmosphere finally being resettled between the two of you. your trust running back to you, as you took his hand and gently guided him out of the crowded venue, exiting and catching a cold spring breeze. you saw the cherry blossoms that had petals falling off of the branches, already imagining the romance movie-like scene that would be created. taehyun couldn’t help but chuckle at your rather cutely excited state. running to the trees before finally facing him once again, hand in hand. you looked down before bringing your eyes up to his, taehyun looked ethereal in the moonlight, his features being brought to light by the streetlights. light reflecting off of the concrete road.

“so.. you’ve really made me realize so many of things taehyun. one.. you’ve made me realized that i really can’t live without you, even after everything and trying to see you in such a negative light, i had such a hard time hating you because it was just so impossible. it was hard to even think that someone who has loved me and treated me like no one else has ever cared for me could truly just be in this relationship for the academic benefits. another thing that you taught me is that, love truly blinds people. i think that i was so caught up in my own pain that i never really realized or processed the things that you said to me, that you broke up with me for my own good. looking back at it now, i get it, you just didn’t want to see me in pain, but you shouldn’t be the one to decide what happens to me. i know you were looking out for me, but we could’ve spared both of our feelings if we had better communication to begin with.. i shouldn’t have blamed everything on just you, it was also my fault, for not understanding..”

“yn.. you had every right to be upset, i said things to you that i didn’t mean. those things aren’t the best words to hear from someone who’s supposed to love you. just trust me when i say that i didn’t want to say any of that, trust me when i tell you that you’re the person who i, this is gonna sound really cringy and weird.. but i just, i want to spend my future with you..” taehyun frowns, beginning to fear that maybe he was planning way too ahead into the future than you were ready for. you’d never really thought about anything so far into the future as taehyun had. you’d only thought about enjoying the memories you were creating with taehyun. however, the more that taehyun’s words sunk into your mind, the more you realized that a future with taehyun wouldn’t be so bad. in fact, it seemed quite surreal. you could almost imagine it now, waking up next to taehyun, exchanging homemade packed lunches for each other. spending life with each other even through ups and downs, you were nearly sure that taehyun could never purposely want to hurt you. after all, everything that had happened was because of something out of his control. well not exactly, but you knew that if it wasn’t for that then taehyun would’ve never exchanged such cruel words to you.

your hands gave taehyun’s a small affirmative squeeze, looking at him with a wide smile. beginning to reach up onto your tip toes to reach his mouth. your lips pressing against his as you couldn’t help but let your happiness and excitement get the best of you. it was all just so- romantic. you didn’t care if taehyun’s words were cheesy, all you wanted was to make sure that he stuck by his words and that you would be able to spend the rest of your life with him no matter how many hurdles life would throw at the two of you.

you pressed your ear against taehyun’s warm chest. a happy smile resting on your face, a comfortable silence resting in the atmosphere. taehyun’s hands ran through your hair, soft tiny grin decorating his already handsome face.

you couldn’t be any happier, with taehyun back on your side, you knew that all of this was unbelievable. if someone told you in the beginning of the year that you would end up arm in arm with kang taehyun, you would’ve looked at them oddly. you with the school’s athletic sweetheart ? tutoring the sweet boy and getting to know him ? you would’ve been shocked to hear how on the first day of tutoring you would be absolutely enamored by kang taehyun. his once-hallway crush was now in his arms, as his lover. he couldn’t mess this up, he didn’t plan on doing so either.

“what’s your favorite flower..” taehyun questioned one last time.

“pink hydrangeas, it hasn’t changed. yours ?”

“i have a lot, mistletoes, petunias, primrose, lavender roses.. even red tulips.”

you looked at taehyun, feeling so fulfilled by his innocent confession, pressing one last kiss on his lips.

©️soobpricity

red tulips : believe me. declaration of love

lavender rose : enchantment. love at first sight.

primrose : i can’t live without you

petunias : your presence soothes me

mistletoe : kiss me. affection.

this love taglist : @run2seob @soobadooba @soobnuuy @pockychuwu @crazynyctophilia @rencarnationofangel @esther-kpopstan @mrsyawnzzn @matcha-binz @michinri @hanstarrs @ariam-96 @pinkheadflowers @kittyhyuka @run4gyu @txnwvc

an: this is the last chapter or “letter”…. kinda sad but i had to finish it especially because i felt like i was less dedicated to writing this smau than i was with anti romantic. i just feel like this smau lacked a conflict even though i think it had a stronger conflict. i actually know what im doing for my next smau but i really want to write a good handful of chapters before posting because… i really don’t trust myself to be consistent. i will try to post one shots in between the time that it takes me to finish the smau. hint : it has to do with a poll i did a while ago. ALSO HOW DID YALL LIKE TXT’S COMEBACK ? I LOVE MIRACLE !! also who’s going to see txt !! i’m seeing them both days in rosemont 🤭🤭

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