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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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I kinda wonder, what could bakugou do (hori write bakugou to do) to make him less popular with the "anti" crowd. Like He was a horrid child no doubt and people who try to put blame on Deku or lessen the terrible shit bakugou did aren't great. But as we don't rly see it, we have to assume bakugous behaviour wasn't stopped, we only ever saw his mum "punishing" him when he was being rude after getting kiddnapped. Nothing will excuse what bakugou did, but he has stopped? He's overall a harsh person but he's not harrassing and bullying people anymore, specifically not deku, he's trying to attone for what he did to deku and has now apologised for it. His behaviour was never viewed as justified or good in the series, he's a scary figure in middle school, we're not meant to like his behaviour, so the series itself hasn't justified his actions.

As someone who relate to both bakugou and deku more than I'd like to admit (never told someone to jump tho, that's fucked lol) so I can 100% understand not liking or even hating bakugou but as someone who's not 15 anymore, looking back I also made a lot of really shitty decisions and like bakugou have tried to make up for it, and like deku I was 'friends' with people who hurt me.

Is there anything he can do for the "antis" to just dislike him rather that be "anti"?

(I'm very sorry if you've talked about this somewhere, you can just tell me to look for it if you have, I'll continue to look for your posts on the subject)

Hey there, anon! I think I’ve spoken about this only tangentially and/or in my main Bakugo meta, which is too big for anyone sane to read. So yeah, let’s chat here!

For me personally—and that’s all I can ever do: speak personally. I think it’s important to keep in mind that there is no single solution to please the “anti” crowd. Each fan will be looking for something slightly different in Bakugo’s character, much of which might contradict what a “stan” is currently enjoying. Given how charged a character he is, I'm not sure it's possible to get the entire fandom to like him—what I’m looking for hinges on having a different reading of the story than you seem to. Meaning, I think the series does justify his behavior. Not in any overt, super obvious way like having all the characters go, “Wow, Bakugo! I sure do love how you threaten people all the time. That’s super cool and heroic!” Things are rarely that straightforward. Rather, it’s in a more subtle, but consistent manner that paints a rather conclusive picture across hundreds of chapters.

Simply put, Bakugo is continually rewarded for his actions. Or, if not outright rewarded, his actions are ignored in a way that implies silent acceptance. Characters may not always like what he does... but they're willing to let it slide because Bakugo's heroism was always treated as a given, not something he had to earn and prove.

With the ever necessary disclaimer that I’m not fully caught up yet, here’s a list of some of the things that stood out to me in the first half of the series:

Bakugo’s bullying made him the most popular kid in school.

Bakugo’s bullying was ignored by/outright supported by the teachers.

Bakugo’s bullying did not hinder him from getting into U.A., one of the most prestigious hero schools around.

Despite acting horribly throughout his time at U.A. too, this behavior was continually ignored by the teachers and other authority figures around him.

Bakugo’s struggle to realize that other people aren’t “trash” doesn’t hurt his achievements in any way. He still gets top scores, still wins the tournament, etc.

Bakugo’s behavior gets him special attention from All Might, the greatest hero and Bakugo’s personal idol.

His behavior doesn’t make others dislike him in any manner that’s taken seriously. Everybody is still willing to not just put up with Bakugo, but—in time—start treating his behavior as a quirk (no pun intended lol) that they’re secretly fond of, rather than something he should legitimately be striving to change. Kirishima is the most overt example of this.

This is compounded by his behavior constantly being framed as humorous. Much like with Mineta’s perverted actions, characters might superficially go, “No, that’s bad!” but the story never demands any significant development because then we’d lose the “joke” of Bakugo screaming in rage at the slightest inconvenience, threatening to murder someone over nothing, constantly belittling everyone around him in a “funny” manner, etc. When fans talk about development of a manga character as archetypal and extreme as Bakugo, most don’t really want to see significant change to his base personality. Because then that would result in someone who doesn’t look like the “real” Bakugo: someone nicer, more even-tempered, more mature, etc. But for those of us who were never drawn to that personality in the first place, the continued acceptance of his rude, egotistical, and violent behavior is discomforting. The easiest comparison I can draw is between this and Bakugo’s mother slapping him. That slap is meant to be another “joke”—we see it constantly in shonen anime, something "humorous" you shouldn’t take too seriously because haha, it's just an overprotective mother—but many fans do take it seriously, using it as the basis for a whole “Bakugo was abused and this explains his behavior” reading. Well, I take the “joke” of Bakugo’s threats and insults seriously, especially in a story that starts with something like telling Izuku to jump off the roof. In the same way that many fans want others to treat Bakugo’s mother as a serious topic that has had a negative influence on his development, I want the series to take Bakugo’s everyday actions seriously as a negative influence on… well, everyone around him. But it doesn’t. His base personality is grudgingly adored.

The above two points are seen most overtly in Izuku, who never wavers in his respect for Bakugo despite how Bakugo treats him. Not just prior to U.A., but during their training too. Izuku, as the protagonist, is the emotional heart of this tale, so when he talks about how inspiring Bakugo is, it encourages the reader to see his behavior as inspiring too. Rather than, as said, something that needs to change. Izuku's continued friendship with Bakugo, his adoration of him, and his acceptance of the way he's treated has severely warped how the entire story sees Bakugo's actions. After all, if #pure Izuku can see the good in Bakugo, why can't everyone else? He must not be that bad after all.

I could get into detailed analyses of all the above—like how Bakugo was the one comforted after attacking Izuku outside the dorms at night and how the messed up relationship he has with Izuku is upheld as something to nurture; how the remedial courses he had to take were made to be rather silly, thereby undermining their supposed importance to his development; how Bakugo’s kidnapping had nothing to do with his flaws, but much of the fandom uses it as a way to dismiss any appropriate consequences because, “Hasn’t he suffered enough?” etc.—but in the interest of keeping this within a readable length, I’ll leave it at that. The point is that Bakugo has always been privileged when it comes to his behavior, resulting in others either outright praising it, ignoring it, or demanding that he change a miniscule bit, which always keeps him far below the standards of both his peers and the expectations of a hero. Everyone in 1-A must learn to be even better than the good people they already are... Bakugo needs to learn that other people aren't dirt at the bottom of his shoes. It's never been a particularly impressive development when pit against the rest of the class. All of which can make something like an apology feel pretty hollow. Yes, he’s apologized and I say with all seriousness that that’s great! But how does that apology stack up against 300+ chapters of content? As Bakugo’s words highlight, he's been a really awful person up "until now": he was consumed by Izuku being “miles ahead of [him],” he “looked down on [him]” because he didn’t have a quirk, he “didn’t want to recognize that,” he “hated that,” “grew distant,” “tried to beat you down,” “opposed you and tried to show my superiority over you,” and ends it all with, “it probably doesn’t mean anything telling you all this” before finally getting to the “I’m sorry.” This is basically a laundry list of how horrible a person Bakugo has been for the entire series, with an acknowledgement that this apology is coming really, really late. This is the moment where I could START to like Bakugo, depending on how he acts form here on out, but that pivotal moment arrived after six years of content and in the final arc of the story. It’s too late. Bakugo needed this kind of self-reflection and positive action 250+ chapters ago so he could (hopefully) grow into a better person across the story, not at the story's end. What we got instead is 322 chapters of him being a really horrible person, but the story going out of its way to excuse or even praise that behavior the majority of the time.

As a quick comparison to end on, I think what Bakugo needed was what Soo Jin got in True Beauty. You don’t need to have seen the drama to follow along. The tl;dr is that she has a lot of the core qualities of Bakugo: an all-consuming drive to win that was created due to abusive parents with high expectations, resulting in her bullying a peer to a pretty horrific extent. The difference between them is how the story frames their actions. When Soo Jin becomes the bully she loses everything. Rather than succeeding academically, her grades plummet, making it clear that this anxiety and self-doubt (things the fandom keeps insisting Bakugo is struggling with, but that rarely ever show up in the text) is actually impacting her day-to-day life. Her best friend drops her because she’s not going to support her choices. The boy she likes rejects her. She’s eventually forced to start over somewhere new - which importantly separates her from the girl she was bullying - and get some distance from her parents, resulting in the growth needed to become a healthier, happier, good person again. So when Soo Jin apologizes to the girl she hurt, it feels earned. The story continually recognized how horrific her actions were and put her into a place where she either had to change, or continue losing at everything else that was important to her. Bakugo? Bakugo doesn’t lose. Oh, he claims he does because he’s comparing himself to Izuku constantly, but that’s just him thinking in extremes. He still wins academically. Still wins many battles. Still wins at having friends. Still wins by maintaining the prestige of being a U.A. student. Still wins by getting All Might’s attention. Still wins by receiving Izuku’s respect and an agreement to maintain this rivalry that Bakugo is so obsessed with. Bakugo comes out well 99% of the time, he just thinks he's "lost" because he can't stand not being the absolute best.

For me, the story needed to have Bakugo face consequences for his behavior, not receive rewards and/or have others ignore it, and that revelation/apology needed to come way, way sooner. For me the issue is not a specific action that Horikoshi can have Bakugo do in the next chapter and them bam, I like him now. The problem is Bakugo’s entire concept, how he’s received by the entire cast, and his run across this entire series. "Entire" is the key word there. Which is why the “But he’s apologized. What more do you antis want?” reactions don’t sit well. What we wanted is a better written redemption arc across those 300+ chapters, not a single scene that’s meant to have us forget all the other problems inherent in the story. At this point it’s a far more complicated situation than, “Bakugo just needs to do X, Y, and Z and then we’re golden.” At the end of the day, Horikoshi failed to make me like him as a person and I’m pretty sure he isn’t going to change Bakugo enough to make him likable to me. Bakugo was never the sort of character I’d be inclined towards without a serious, nuanced redemption arc, but sadly, a core, crucial part of that redemption arc took six years to arrive. At this point there’s no way to change the problems in Bakugo’s writing for that huge chunk of the series and not enough time left in the series, it seems, to do the work we should have seen across the entire run. Honestly, idk if the Bakugo we'll get going forward is someone I can just dislike as opposed to being really uncomfortable with, but my money is on there being too little story left and too much investment in upholding Bakugo's base personality for that to happen. I could absolutely be proven wrong! But I think the problems are structural and needed to be better dealt with from page one, not hastily patched over in the final hour.

#BNHA #My Hero Academia #anti bakugo

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fullsunalicia · 4 years

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ooh idk if requests are open, but if they are could you write a sort of spin off to the tale older than time for jaemin??? bECAUSE YES SON OF EROS FALLING IN LOVE AND HIM NOT SEEING IT COMING?? yes pls,,,,oh and if you ever plan on making it a series with all the dreamies as demigods i will literally worship you and set up a temple for you !! you write so well !!

love and war - NJM

maybe the fates mixed something up when they tied the red string of the daughter of ares to eros’ son instead of aphrodite’s, but jaemin wasn’t complaining. after all, it was love at first sight, and eros is the next-best thing, right?

son of eros!jaemin x daughter of ares!y/n

hello my love! yes, they’re open, so request away as much as you’d like! thank you for this one, i hope you will enjoy it 🤍 also, that sounds really intriguing! for you, i will go ahead and try to write a greek mythology au for every dreamie 🤍 but i’ll have to say that no matter how many temples you build for me, i’ll build dozens more for you! thank you so much for your kind words bubs 🥺

Jaemin was used to playing matchmaker.

Not once did the students on campus flock to the children of Aphrodite when they needed help with love, even though Jaehyun was literally right there. They trusted Eros and his genes, because everyone knew the story of Psyche and wished to find a love like theirs.

Sure, he bended the rules a little bit when he helped Jeno... but what the Fates don’t know, shouldn’t bother them, right?

Little does Jaemin know that they’ve decided to take Na Jaemin’s love life into their very own hands. Somewhere in Greece, up high on a mountain, Cloto, Lachesis and Atropos are having the time of their lifes tying little (y/n)’s red string to Jaemin’s. Not even his father can hinder them, because Jaemin knowingly broke the rules.

They’d like to see how Jaemin would manage with the ill-tempered, hot-headed (y/n), demi-goddess, Ares’ pride and joy.

After all, you’ve never fallen in love.

❀ ❀ ❀

There’s a reason why your knuckles are split open nearly every week.

One look at the you and everyone determines that you must be really weak. Frail, pushed aside almost too easily. You hide it well, because the second they under-estimate you, they’re already dead. (l/n) (y/n) looks nothing like her elder siblings, but you pack quite the punch. It’s the golden, godly blood flowing in your veins that throws in that extra swing, just the amount of strength needed to break someone’s jaw. That’s a blessing only the children of Ares possess - there is not a single fight they ever lose, or at least lose immediately. They were born to conquer, fight and win, meant to be leaders, warriors and protectors.

So when some assholes on campus make your best friend Yuqi uncomfortable, you’re the first to start the brawl. It’s really not your fault those jerks couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. If a girl says no several times and they still can’t accept it, they’ll just have to sort it out with your fists.

You’re not like your father. You don’t actively search for fights, even though there’s nothing that makes you feel more alive than a well-delivered kick or the satisfying feeling of bones cracking beneath your grip. You inherited the love for a good fight, but not the stupidity to look for it at every corner. There’s a hot temper boiling beneath your skin, but you keep it in check pretty well. Unless of course someone bothers Yuqi. That’s something different entirely and you welcome that particular red haze every time it comes.

“Please, please stop hurting yourself for me,” Yuqi begs you as she holds your bandaged hands tightly in her own. You see no reason in putting band-aids on them, but your best friend can’t live with herself if she can’t atleast treat your wounds, so you let her do her thing every time. “I wish you’d just let someone else do it. You know it’s not possible to win every time, (y/n), you’re a daughter of Ares, not the god themself.”

“I warned them not to touch you.” The shrug of your shoulders only upsets Yuqi more. “That was their own fault. I’m not standing aside to someone bothering and harrassing you like that. Not until someone else does it for me, like a future boy- or girlfriend.”

“I’m straight.”

“You’re lying to yourself.”

Yuqi laughs, pink blush settling on her cheeks. You’re only joking, but you know she ponders over that thought, her beautiful mind wrapping itself around the fact that Yuqi was still discovering herself. Her wisdom shone through every thing she said, and she was a good match to you as a daughter of Athene. She was the brains, you the some-what muscle. Even though your parents couldn’t stand each other, Yuqi and you loved each other like sisters.

The girl reaches out to brush your hair out of your sight, then she interlocks your fingers and pulls you forward. Weirdly, you adore skinship. The feeling of a warm body beneath your touch, living, breathing. Not in the violent way. In the sense of finding something and using as an anchor. A heartbeat did so much more than telling yourself to calm down. A smile, a heartfelt spoken sentence. You were as easily to calm down as any other demigod, even though it takes a little bit more than others.

You crave touch. Meaning. Or as they said in Mulan - a guy worth fighting for, even though you’ve never fallen in love.

Butterflies have never lived in your stomach, and you never get weak in the knees because of someone. Sure, you blush a good amount of times when you are complimented and hugged, but never once did that feeling expand into something romantic. It was ... disappointing.

Maybe you weren’t mean to fall in love. You’re only a pawn in the battleground your father laid out for you.

Across the room, Na Jaemin looks you in the face and feels his heart skip several beats.

❀ ❀ ❀

You’re perfect.

That’s the only word Jaemin’s head can offer as he looks at you, his heart seems to tremble in his chest at the sight of your pure smile. It’s not even directed at him, for fuck’s sake. But still, you are so lovely, and he almost stands up to walk over you. He’s Jaemin; if you’re born to break bones, he was born to flirt.

Almost. He decides against it, because of one single reason.

Jaemin has fallen in love several times. But he’s never met a soulmate before, and especially not his own. It’s different, the flower that begins to bloom in his heart for you, different from anything else in the world and only distinctive to children of love. Forget-me-nots, gardenias and cherry blossoms, they all settle in his heart, waiting for you to pluck them and make them yours. He doesn’t want anyone else to have them but you, and it didn’t matter if you are going to tear them apart or treasure them.

He had asked his father before, if soulmates were real. Not a very serious question, but nonetheless still spoken out of curiousity. Jaemin sees relationships like an outstander, able to change and fix, more than easy to manipulate. Love is unsure, it can never be caged. It’s meant to be free. Undeciding. Unraveling.

“They’re real,” Eros had responded. “Of course they are. There is a little truth in every myth. I don’t know if they’re really the people who were conjoined and cut apart by Zeus and his cowardice. But every once in a while, the Fates sit down and meddle with our business, for a relationship made in the stars. It’s not common, son. I haven’t seen them for a long time.”

And yet here you are.

He’s heard about you. That Ares girl, the one who’s so over-protective of a certain chinese business student.

He wonders if you attend NCT parties often.

❀ ❀ ❀

Yuqi doesn’t want you to go to parties. She says your temper explods too fast whenever you have a swig too much and she doesn’t know how to control an angry, intoxicated demigod. Everybody knows that whenever an Ares child is involved in a fight, someone ends up in the hospital. As a consequence, you are rarely offered a drink.

The only reason you attend parties is to watch your friends and/or play designated driver. That’s why you’re standing in this kitchen you’ve never been in clutching a glass of ice tea, and not the whiskey you’ve been eyeing across the table for half an hour now. It’s a shame, really. Drunk you is always so funny. People were denied of that show by Yuqi’s rule against getting drunk in public. Every fifteen minutes, she sends you a checking glance, and you’re still sober every time she does.

Na Jaemin is not. He’s not drunk, really, just buzzed, and that’s enough liquid courage he needs to approach you. The smile adorning his lips makes your stomach flip in an unknown way, and you let him approach you, curious of what he’s planning to do. “You’re not drinking,” he states inquisitively, free hand pointing at your alcohol-free cup. “Don’t like getting drunk?”

“Oh, I do. But I tend to beat people up when I do.” You sigh, crossing your arms in front of your chest, hoping that your silly heart would catch the drift and stop beating at multiple hundred miles an hour. He’s so stunning; This must be what Adonis had looked like, there’s no other explanation. The dazzling smile, the honest eyes that let you see every corner of his soul willingly. Not a single wall pulled up to protect himself. “But you seem to be having fun.”

“Only a little,” he laughs. That sound does wonders to your heart. You also wonder what the hell is going on with you. “But not too much, you know how we Eros children can get when the alcohol hits at once. Not a nice sight.”

“Can’t believe anything that has do with you not being a nice sight.”

The pick-up line is spoken with confidence, yet your cheeks heat up in an instant. Jaemin gauges your reaction, and his fingers twitch. He wants to cradle your face and take you up to his room to show you what else kind of sights he offers. And somehow at the same time, he kind of wants to squish your cheeks and run his fingers through your hair. Very conflicting. Jaemin tends to feel too much, too fast.

But with you, everything moves smoothly. Meant to be. Like the universe had mapped this out a long time ago.

“You’re cute,” he tells you, liking the way you shyly lower your gaze. He cannot possibly imagine you punching someone in the face, but he likes the fervor and passion he finds in your eyes. Love and war are very similar. It’s the first thing Jaemin was ever taught.

He tugs at your fingers, and you don’t stop him when he curls his pinky around yours. “Come on. Let’s do something fun.”

The house is stuffed with people who are trying to have a good time. Jaemin takes you deeper into it, leading you towards a group of people you recognize, but don’t actually know. Amazingly, they were playing billiard in their drunken state, and even though most of them have been drinking for a long time, they still hit their targets dead-on. You join them, and the entire night, Jaemin doesn’t move from your side. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and your waist every once in a while but other than that, he respects your boundaries and follows the game intently, pouting when he loses and grinning smugly when something goes his way.

Jaemin throwing his head back in laughter is the most ethereal thing you’ve ever seen in life. He sets off electric currents in your veins, the very same ones you chased every time you were fighting someone.

Is this what a crush feels like?

❀ ❀ ❀

Jaemin decides that the perfect way to wake up is next to your pretty face.

He’s aware of the fact how creepy this is. But he cannot take his eyes off you, unable to will his gaze away. Every curve and slope of your body is breathtaking. Your hands are resting beside your head, and even though he winces at the cuts that adorn the back of your hand, it just... fits you so well. Never ever in his life has Jaemin felt like this before. It’s just impossible, how you wrap him around your little finger just by looking into his direction. You’re the sun, and he’s the planet orbitting you.

Matchmakers aren’t usually made into a match. But he finds himself perfectly content at your feet, even though the feeling is powerful and foreign. His mind is haywire.

Jaemin likes it. He likes it a lot.

When your eyes flutter open, his heart nearly jumps out of his chest because of the blush settling on your cheeks. “Hi,” you whisper, and he angles his body towards you, desperate for any kind of attention you’re willing to give him. “Hey, princess,” he answers, fingers twitching to hold yours. “Slept well?”

“Yeah.” You don’t move. Instead, you set your pretty eyes on his hands which are resting just below yours, and he wishes for you to take them. He’s too much of a scaredy-cat to do it himself. And that is so untypical of him - Na Jaemin isn’t scared of shit, affection is his second nature.

But you’re different. You were the match that set him ablaze, and his entire existence has shifted to accomodate you.

“Thank you for letting me stay over.” Fingers brush past his. He almost groans in frustration. “I was way too tired to drive home yesterday, and it was really fun, even though I was sober.”

“You don’t need to be drunk to have fun, princess,” is all he says, and it takes his entire courage for him to raise his hand and brush his knuckles against your cheek. Jaemin feels like ascending to heaven when you nuzzle his face against them, and he cups your face. You don’t stop him. You watch him, eyes curious, waiting. Jaemin inches closer.

Children of Eros don’t hold back. They exist for love and for passion, for lust and for loyalty. Emotions for them are inner explosions, felt more intensely than any other person in the world. And right now, he’s dying from anticipation.

“(y/n),” Jaemin murmurs. “I’m going to kiss you.”

His hand leaves your face to rest beside your shoulder, and your breath hitches when he lifts himself to hover over you. For a second, he thinks he’s overdone it. Instead, your fingers find his shirt and grip it tightly, godly strength shimmering through, tugging just so slightly. “(y/n),” he repeats. He needs you to say it. Needs you to give him permission to get lost in you and your touch, his very own paradise in the form of the stars locked in your eyes and all the love in the world in your smile.

If angels really exist, Jaemin is pretty sure they look like you.

“Please,” you whisper. Jaemin’s free hand moves to hold your waist, and you let him tug your shirt up so he can rest it on naked skin. You’re going to make him pass out, he realizes, because you’re so much to take in. So beautiful, so stunning, so alive.

“Please what, princess?”

You pull at his shirt, but Jaemin doesn’t move. You look cute when you bite your lip. “Please kiss me.”

You’re even cuter when you beg.

It should disturb him that the scent of blood lingers to your clothing like a constant afterthought. The bruises you’re going to leave on his shoulders because of your grip should scare him away. But all it does is draw him more in, and even though he’s the one in control right now, Jaemin feels like the little mouse walking right in your trap.

Hook, line and sinker. The moment your lips touch his, he’s a goner. Jaemin grips your waist tighter, hand sliding down to grip your thigh and guide your leg around his hips. He’s very aware that you could crush his shoulders with his bare hands, but the pain you inflict starts to turn into a guilty pleasure. How are you so powerful without knowing it? He tugs at your lower lip, welcoming the whine you let slip a little bit too enthusiastically, tongue meeting yours in a heated frenzy.

Jaemin thought he knew what love was. If not him, who else would? But after this, all his definitions are rearranged and they all spell out one name: yours. He’s barely able to abandon your lips, finding solace in the way you arch your back when he nips at your neck, leaving love bites wherever he can reach. The sound of his name falling from your lips is seriously messing with his sanity. Your hands move on from his shoulders to his hair to tug at the dyed locks, and Jaemin moans at the feeling.

Your taste of heaven is interrupted by someone furiously knocking against his door. Once, twice, until someone angrily yells from outside the room: “Na Jaemin, I’ve told you a thousand times that you have clean-up duty! Get your ass up!”

Jaemin groans, lips still attached to the column of your throat. Your legs keep him trapped against you and you close them tighter, to Jaemin’s delight. Neither of you want to be seperated right now. “Go away, Mark.”

“If you don’t get your ass outside in two minutes, I’ll come in and say hello to your female companion, you dick.”

You giggle at that. “Go, go,” you urge him, shyly cupping his face in your tiny hands to kiss him for a few seconds, way too short for his liking. He’s going to kill Mark for this. Jaemin looks you in the eyes for just a few seconds longer, then he rolls off from you in a pout.

The room feels really warm now. Sitting up, you fix your hair and he watches you, entranced. Like you’re his favourite movie and he didn’t want to look away. Mark keeps his promise, bursting in through the door to get his friend, but Jaemin pushes him out and steps into the hall with him.

“Write down your number before you leave, princess,” he calls over his shoulder, and then the door is shut.

❀ ❀ ❀

“I can’t believe you hook up with someone the second I leave you alone.”

“For the last time, Yuqi! I didn’t hook up with him!”

Your best friend is sprawled across your floor, fanning herself with her hand. It’s hot outside, the blue sky calming you down just by looking at it. For someone who lives to destroy you sure have your knack for aesthetics. “Then what else do you call it?” Yuqi hums.

You don’t know what to call it. You don’t have a noun for the feeling that Jaemin ignited, and you couldn’t get rid of it, despite avoiding him for a full week. Someone like you wasn’t supposed to feel like this. So ... weak. At someone’s beck and call. You are made out of conflict, strength and violence. Love wasn’t something Ares had in mind when he created you.

No, you scold yourself mentally, don’t refer to it as love. It’s not love. Love is stupid. But there isn’t any other way to describe it. All the books lie. There aren’t any fireworks or butterflies in your stomach. It feels like war elephants are running rampant, and your heartrate spikes the second someone mentions the J in Jaemin. The worst thing is that you miss him, had longed for him the entire week, inner turmoil caused by your wish to fall into his bed again or to run away from this university as far as possible.

You may not notice, Yuqi watches you. Your nervous antics of cracking your fingers and tugging at your hair. Both of you know there’s no way to win this war, no matter how long you sit down to think about a good strategy. There’s only one solution: admit defeat.

Something you were very, very bad at.

“(y/n),” the girl sitting on the ground speaks, voice soft, careful. Her eyes remind you of an owl’s. “You should have just left him your number.”

You breathe in shakily. “I don’t know him.”

“But you want to.” Her hands grip yours, finally pulling you out of that terrifying place in your head where you punish yourself for never being in love before and making this so hard for yourself. “I know this is new territory for you and you dislike things that are unknown to you. But just because you were born to fight, doesn’t mean you automatically aren’t born to love and to be weak. Your father loves war. Your mother loved him. Was she weak because of that? Absolutely not. She taught you how to fight and survive in this world, to stand up after being kicked down, to earn your place. Is that not what true warriors do? Is that not strength?

You bite your lip. Then you nod. Yuqi raises her head to kiss your forehead. “Don’t forget that love is the most powerful thing in the entire world,” she reminds you. She looks like Athene more than ever right now, her gaze firm, determinded. Razor sharp mind cutting apart this scary new feeling for you so you can digest it.

“Now go get your man.”

❀ ❀ ❀

[1:33pm] y/n: i should have written down my number

[1:34pm] jaemin: why didn’t you, princess?

[1:36pm] y/n: i’ll tell you personally if that’s okay with you

[1:36pm] y/n: dream café in five minutes

❀ ❀ ❀

Love is an act of surrender to another person.

Your father never taught you what that is. There is only victory in being the last one standing, winning, living to tell the tale. There is no room for error, or for weakness.

The strong ones never admit defeat. That was what Ares had imprinted into your mind from the minute you were born into this world. But what Ares doesn’t know is that he’s wrong. He’s not all-mighty, no God ever is. Their countless myths are living proof for that. And that is why you know that surrendering doesn’t mean being weak. It’s the most brave thing you could ever do, and not every one is able to do that. That itself is a strength. A streng not everyone possesses, but you’re willing to take the risk to acquire it, to step into the unknown, a blind fall.

It would be worth it if Jaemin was waiting to catch you.

He looks as beautiful as always as he approaches you, hands tucked into his leather jacket. You had been terribly afraid of him being angry with you, but he only sends you an angelic smile and dips down to drop a feather-light kiss on your cheek. “You changed your mind,” he beams at you.

Puzzled, you blink up to him. “What?”

“You had a change of heart.” Jaemin raises his hand and rests it on his chest, eyes never leaving yours. The amount of trust and joy you find in his eyes is astounding. “I felt it right here. I knew you’d be able to do it.”

You suddenly remember who Jaemin’s father is. While he grins at you, your cheeks heat up to a thousand degrees, and you cough to cover it up. “I did,” you mumbled. “And I’m so sorry of letting you wait. I... I’ve never felt for anyone like this before. I’m not used to feeling alive unless it’s because I’m breaking someone’s nose.”

Jaemin wraps both arms around you, and you rest your hands on his shoulders. Moving on instinct was common for the both of you. “I’m glad you found that feeling by being with me and not actually punching me,” he teases you. “And for the record, I’ve never felt like this either. You’re very special to me. And that’s why I was willing to wait. So stop apologizing, princess.” His face inches closer to yours, mischievous glint in his eyes. “I haven’t even taken you on a date yet. Very scandalous, if you ask me.”

“So that kiss meant nothing you? Traitor.”

“Hey, that’s hot how I meant it.” You both laugh, though you’re disrupted by him kissing you sweetly. “I don’t need any dates when my heart’s already yours. But you deserve to be treated like a princess, and to get properly taken out and pampered. I want to give you the world, (y/n). Will you let me?”

You do.

Somewhere in Greece, three old, angry hags are disappointed with your lack of protest. They had expected more ruin and punishment for Na Jaemin as an effect of tying your strings together. They should’ve remembered that Jaemin learned all his tricks from his father, who secretly lent his son a helping hand.

What did Jaemin say again? What the Fates don’t know, shouldn’t bother them.

#again i wasnt sure where i went with this LMAO but i quite like how it turned out #i’m still working on writing my one-shots longer; it’s kinda strange not tying everything together at once #but it’s getting better hehe #i hope you guys enjoyed the read #tell me what you think about it 🤍 ask box is open #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #na jaemin fluff #nct dream #nct #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #na jaemin scenarios

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bugaboowritings · 4 years

Text

Don’t Call Me Bugaboo -

She’s not your Love-Bug

There this one post about how Marinette won’t let anyone call her ‘Bugaboo’ or any bug/cute nickname unless it was from Chat Noir or Adrien. So that inspired me to write this short mess a while back. As it seems cute since this fic does match my url. heheheh- enjoy.

I think that I may write something more if the idea stay in my head. Like make Clairvoyance into a ‘real’ episode or fic.

“Silly Bug! Don’t you know that you could get squashed playin’ like that!?”

Ladybug ran to a harsh stop, her feet stinging with her rough landing. Feeling the extra momentum throw her off the balance if it wasn’t for the grip on her suit. Her breathes escaped hard and heavy out of her nose, trying to catch her breath. Pumping her lungs with fresh adrenaline and oxygen. Glaring at the Akuma through her midnight blue bangs.

Gripping her yo-yo a little tighter.

“Speak for yourself, Clairvoyance.”

“More like Clairvo-Annoyance, if you ask me.” Chat Noir mumbled, reaching the scene in time. His fangs sticking out of his lips, shooting a wink to the red heroine. As dumb the joke was, it was a signal of reassurance to calm his LB. Ignoring the disgusted expression from the villain.

With baton ready in hand, Chat Noir itching to play offense or if needed, support for his Lady against the Akuma’s tricks. Racking his brain for ways to make the new villain pay or a quick getaway in case the Akuma pulled another foul trick from their sleeves. With the power to the bent reality and see anything in view or out, Clairvoyance proved to be a ‘little’ tricky to sneak around. Being five steps ahead of them before the Miraculous Duo even took one. Driving Ladybug out of her comfort zone as she analyzed the new threat to Paris.

Clairvoyance scowled at the leather-cat before swiping their glasses.

That’s when it clicked in LB’s head.

The corrupted butterfly must be in their glasses!

“I’ll make you eat your words, you dirty rat.”

“Ouch.” Chat winced, rubbing his chest as if Clairvoyance’s words stung his big heart. Chat’s acid eyes fluttered before landing a bitter smile on his pink lips.

“First off, I’m clearly a cat. I thought that was clear. Second,” He motioned his collar bell, flicking his claws out, “-You better be a purr-fect cook if you gonna make me eat my words.”

“Might as well cook me and the Lady dinner if you’re offering.”

Chat’s remakes fell flat once he saw Clairvoyance’s growl turn into a crafty grin.

“I have plenty of tricks for you to pick from the menu!”

With a swipe of their hand, black holes appeared on the ground. Quickly expanding to the whole floor, swallowing the solid ground into a void.

The duo jumped before they could fall into the nothingness or a tunnel that lead to the unknown. Twirling and flipping out of harm’s way as Clairvoyance made more black holes appear with the swipe of their hand. The corners of their thin lips turned up into a sick grin on their periwinkle face the more Ladybug and Chat Noir jumped around, avoiding the danger than grew under their feet. The heroes pushing themselves off the leftover bits of the green grass, trying to reach the edges of the huge stadium or even better- the high bleachers.

Chat Noir hopped from piece to piece, feeling himself getting cocky. Opening his mouth to speak, only for a yelp to escape. His boot missed the step and fell back. Feeling the hum of the black hole on his back as he slipped closer and closer to the nothingness. A shot yelp brought Ladybug’s attention to the black cat. Pulling her arm back as her stomach squeezed in anxiousness, launching her yo-yo out to pull her partner out of the vacuum.

Feeling his weight hang on the edge of her string, she tugged back. Fishing out a black cat into her arms. His hair ruffled and eyes widen once they both realized what had just happened.

“I guess your bad luck never fails.” Ladybug smirked. Not helping to pull her own joke to reassure her kitty.

“You never fail to swoon me, Bugaboo.” Chat Noir sighs. Ladybug could have sworn that his thin pupils turned into little hearts as he grinned back at her. Her grip on her partner's waist tightened when she tossed her yo-yo up and over a steel beam. Hopefully strong enough to hold them as she pushed her feet from the ground running.

Our heroes swung up to the stadium bleaches, away from the black holes that ate away at the once-solid ground.

Clairvoyance burst out in giggles as the Miraculous Duo struggled to regain their ground. Ladybug holding her yo-yo tightly as Chat Noir pulled out his baton from his back.

“Woowwwww.” Clairvoyance rolled out their lips. Winking at the team before raising their hands to their glasses. Ready to spit out another obstacle.

“You’re so slick, Bugaboo.” They chuckled, quickly swiping their hand out to motion another tear in reality, all in hopes to confuse the bug and cat team. Portals stretched out behind the villain, revealing another monster entering the stage floor.

“But that cleverness of yours can only last so long.”

Ladybug ground her teeth. Only to drop her frown when she noticed the red and black spots highlighting the ceiling and Chat Noir’s baton.

Gaining her own smile that confused Clairvoyance but motivated Chat.

“Don’t call me Bugaboo or I’ll make YOU eat your words.”

————

“Gross.” Marinette winced as she pulled her arm away. Pressing it against her chest to protect herself. Still feeling the tingle of their touch on her forearm. Causing her to recoil from the man before stepping back. Her heels already tapped the wooden floor, ready to leave and find another seat.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Love-Bug.” The fresh-cut college student cooed. Ready to move a little closer even as Marinette moved back.

That name just felt wrong as it slipped from his lips and reached her ears. Touching her temples as if she could stop herself from hearing this ‘evil’ or erase it from her memory.

This guy really wasn’t getting it.

“Not your Love-Bug, creep,” Marinette said, again. Grabbing her purse before heading out. Deciding that it wasn’t worth getting harrassed to leave her doom room. Just when she thought she had enough of this guy’s behavior, he still dared to grab her by the arm and pull her near.

Some people don’t know what ‘no’ means until they get a punch, square in the face.

______

“Don’t call me Bugaboo.” Ladybug snarled. Snapping shut her yo-yo communicator before facing the monkey behind her. Telling him to knock it off and she slowly gets tired of his jokes. It annoyed her even more than usual since she was cold, ready to detransform, and go home. The weather didn’t help her mood, but Ladybug just pulled her hoodie over her head.

Ignoring it for now.

“-Not if you want to make it out of this patrol home safely,” she added, slipping her yo-yo back to her side. Lifting herself up after watching the ground for a moment. Sniffing the bits of cement from cheap construction nearby and smoke of something burning elsewhere. The yellow-lights flickered in the Parisian apartments below her and the wind blew around old trash that cluttered alleyways. There amid the calm and crowded city was Rena’s signal to go.

Mayura was near.

Meaning Hawk Moth was closer.

“That’s the call.” Ladybug murmured. Motioning her team of a snake, monkey, and turtle to follow the next step of her plan.

Positioning themselves for her go. Itching to get out there. On the edge from being a still statue to swift blur on the roofs of buildings.

“Let’s go.” Ladybug being the first to run out before the rest followed suit.

———

“Honestly, I think you are over-reacting-”

“Excuse you because it’s the exact opposite going on! You aren’t taking this project seriously.” Marinette huffed. Pulling her bag over her shoulder, which was filled to the papers and folder about the new upcoming line being launched with GUESS.

“I-”

“No, Calvin. I don’t want to hear it. We have deadlines and they are not being met. Do something before you force me too.”

Marching out of the office before getting called out by the marketing team again. Pulling her in their office before Marinette could shake them off.

“Marinette, hey! Baby-”

Marinette gave her co-worker a dull look, telling them to not push her buttons like they did every other day. Hoping that because she’s still a newbie in the company, she would this pass. Marinette was growing tired of this and even more with the fact that they seem to see her as a small sister rather than a co-worker. Tugging on the pockets of her bright red coat that had no trouble catching attention. However, today Marinette didn’t want their eyes on her.

Especially when today was one of those days.

Where everything’s falling apart and she’s the only one that could manage to put things together. Scolding herself for coming to work early, she should have called in sick or walked the other direction- anything to stop this problem from being hers. Now it was too late to shoulder off this dilemma to someone else. EVEN WHEN THIS ISN’T HER DEPARTMENT IN THE FIRST PLACE!

“Don’t call me Baby, Lorraine. Not until I see those labels up and ready.” Marinette snapped. Leaving the office a quieter place than when she found it.

———-

“You are so annoying,” LB rolled her eyes as the group of heroes gathered around her. Being the shortest one out of many was a little intimidating, but as leader of the group of superheroes, she got the most respect. Never worry about being interrupted or talked over since whenever she spoke, the crowd hushed itself. Her plans weren’t brushed to the side nor was she. A nice change if you asked her. However, as the leader of this magical squad, she had to be on guard. With more members by her side meant that the danger was something bigger and scarier each time. So this was the first time she had her whole team with her without the stress of an Akuma or giant senti-monster looming over Pairs. It was the first time she could relax around them.

So for Ladybug smiling like that made some people question what was going on.

Did the Akuma get her already?

Is this a trap?

Does she have a big announcement?

Is she retiring?

Could today be her birthday?

Chat Noir hopped off the brick wall and gracefully landed on all fours. Bouncing back up as he beams a nice cocky smile to his red ladybug.

Chat tiles his head to the side, letting his blond locks fall to his face.

“All in hopes for you to love me more, Bugaboo.”

The whole team cringed or pretended to, swooned, or rolled their eyes at that nickname. Others tried to call LB by that, only met with a confused look or a frown. All quickly learning that it was Chat Noir’s thing and Chat Noir was the only person LB would ever allow to call her by that. As tough and determined the Red Miraculous Leader, she had her weak spot -Chat Noir’s clever and sometimes cute nicknames.

Waiting for an eye-roll from the bug, only to hear her giggle.

“Well, you got something right at least.” She smiled. Turning to her team and pretending not to notice the shock on his face before explaining why she called them here today.

-----

“I have a meeting today, check over some of the marketing team’s ideas and then I’ll pick lunch on the way back. Do you need anything, Bugaboo?” The blond asked before adjusting the watch on his wrist. Quickly throwing his scarf around his neck and throwing his brown coat over his broad shoulders.

“Just drive safe.” Marinette yawned. Tired and cold as the blanket around her chest wasn’t warming her fast enough. Waiting for her coffee machine to beep with her hot cup of caffeine. Envying the man in the doorway for having so much energy in the morning.

“Always.” Adrien smiled, before kissing her forehead and walking out the door.

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danganronpa-imagines · 7 years

Note

May I request headcannons where Nagito, Teruteru, Hajime, Ouma and Kiibo find their s/o crying because they are being relentlessly bullied? Thank you.

Hi! And yes, you may! Thank you so very much for the request! I vow to try my very best! Have a good day now, okay? If you are being bullied, please don’t hesitate to come and talk to me. Being bullied is definitely not fun, and you don’t deserve it. No one does. So, you can definitely come talk to me if you’d like. That goes for anyone who may be going through something troubling, regardless of what it may be. I can be busy, but I’ll make time for you if it means you’ll feel better.

Nagito Komaeda

- Needless to say, Nagito was grief-stricken to discover you crying alone in your room. Something was amiss when you arrived home from university in silence and rushed away to your room. He happened to not have class that day, so he was lounging on the couch, anticipating your return. Once the front door opened, there was a sorrow that polluted the air, prompting him from his seat.

- He approached your door and gently knocked with concern. No response, although there was a barely audible hush on the other side, silencing the sniffling. He urged the door open to find you withdrawn and stowed away beneath your desk. He walked toward you slowly and quietly before crouching down, his gaze meeting yours.

- “S/O, please talk to me. Please, what is the matter?”

- You tell him that you’ve been bullied at university, and that you’ve been keeping it from him, as to not worry him. He sighs, and offers a disappointed smile. He relays to you that he wished you would have said something, and that worrying about you is something he does anyway. He asks if you would like for him to do something, or for something to be done.

- You shake your head quickly, although he has already decided what he would like to do. For now, he pulls you in close for a reassuring embrace. Because of your knowledge of his past, his hold always is comforting albeit saddening, considering all he has been through. It amazes you how he still is capable of such pure and genuine love despite it all. You two hold each other for what feels like the remainder of the day.

- The following day at university, you head out to lunch, worried about what is to come. You see them approaching from the distance, and brace yourself. But what surprises you, however, is seeing Nagito as well. He walks toward you confidently, with a box lunch in hand, before sitting beside you. He looks up to the students with nothing to offer but a menacing glare, driving them away quickly, before turning back to you with a smile. He hands you the lunch he made himself.

- “How has your day been so far, S/O?”

Teruteru Hanamura

- You return home in tears. Teruteru immediately rushes to your side, alarmed.

- “Why, whatever happened to you, my love? What is wrong?”

- You tell him that you were heckled quite harshly by your coworkers today. It was your first day at the job of your dreams, so the outcome was all the more hurtful and devastating. He sighs understandably. He tells you that he, too, was bullied as a child. He was bullied for his appearance and for being overly dependent and attached to his mother.

- He proceeds to lead you to the kitchen, sitting down on the kitchen floor beside you. He holds your hand and tells you about his childhood. Teruteru was bullied relentlessly, just like you were. But whenever he came home in tears, his mother would always sit and talk to him, just like he is to you now. Then, she would cook him his favorite meal afterward. It never failed to cheer him up, which is why he adored his mother so very much.

- You recalled your most recent visit to her home. She was very compassionate, kind, and loving. It’s no wonder that Teruteru was and is so attached to her. You broke out of your preoccupation when you felt him gently lead your head to rest on his stomach. He strokes your hair lovingly. He smiles at you warmly, and suggests that he get up to make you your favorite meal.

- It takes him no time at all to finish preparing your favorite meal. It is presented to you fresh and hot. You look at it for a while, leaving him to wonder what is wrong. You get up from the kitchen counter stool and run over to hug him tight.

- “Ah, S/O. My cooking is for the sake of making the people I love happy. Besides my own mother, that other person is you.”

Hajime Hinata

- “S/O? Come here. Did something happen?”

- You open your bedroom door a little. You had arrived home from work earlier than Hajime today, but only because you decided to leave early. You texted him, and he also decided to leave work slightly earlier than usual, about 5 minutes or so. He was a rather earnest and hard worker, so his boss is very kind and lenient with him.

- You walk slowly into his outstretched arms, sobbing quietly into his chest. He embraces you, his hold firm and his arms filling with strength. He buries his face in your hair, and his hold becomes tighter. He apologizes that you had to endure such a thing, and asks if there was anything he could do to help. You tell him that your coworkers were bullying you, but you really had no choice but to remain at your job since you wouldn’t want to be without one.

- He releases you, his hands resting on your shoulders. He asks if there are any hobbies or interests you pursue at home, such as drawing or writing novels. You say yes, and tell him what it is. He smiles and suggests that you begin to work at home, and pursue what you like without needing to endure any harrassment. He says he will support you for as long as you need until you take off, and the proposal brings you to tears.

- From that day on, you have quit your office job and decided to pursue your hobby, turning it into a career you can maintain from home. You have gained a following of very kind, and compassionate people, all of whom appreciate and praise your work. Hajime looks on proudly, often reminding you of how proud he is. You thank him, appreciating his support with all of your heart. He says it’s no problem, and places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

- “I believe that if you try new things, even difficult things, that everything will be okay. I’m glad that this new approach you decided to take was something that you enjoy, and that I could help and be a part of your journey.”

Kokichi Ouma

- What? Someone bullied the person he treasured most? That is unacceptable. Something must be done, but only if you say it’s okay. But in all seriousness, Ouma becomes extremely protective and tender whenever you are hurt in any way, and seeing you hurt, distressed, or saddened affects him quite heavily, to the point in which he might cry out of frustration at how unfair things were. However, he tries not to, because he understands that he must be strong in order to support you.

- “S/O … I’m sorry that you had to endure such poor treatment. The world’s just so unfair …”

- He hugs you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder. You can sense his anger. He is angry because someone as patient, loving, compassionate and understanding as you were bullied. When no one bothered to speak to him, befriend him, or even look at him, you did. He was never sure why you did. Perhaps it was out of the kindness of your heart, or because you saw through his facade and knew he was a damaged and lonely person …

- He cries quietly into your shoulder, apologizing for not being able to protect you. He doesn’t mean to cry, because this isn’t about him but … he just loves you so much, and believes that you only deserve the best. He releases you, and gazes into your eyes with determination. He asks if there was anything he could do, anything at all. If you wished to obtain your revenge, you could consider it done. You smile and kiss him through your tears.

- He exclaims that he is serious, and that he is willing to do just about anything for you. You tell him that it is fine, and that you would just like to spend a quiet evening together with him. So that’s exactly what you two do. He makes you laugh, as he always does, with his silly jokes and antics. His presence brings about a lightheartedness about the air, and it wasn’t too long before you forget and fall asleep.

- The next day, you prepare yourself for more bullying. You see some of your bullies, and wonder why they weren’t all there. They were high achieving students, so it was rare for them to be absent. Your eyes meet, but they shriek in fear. They scream something about seeing a twisted, demon’s face, shrouded in darkness as if it was something from a horror movie. They began to shrivel in fear, whispering about seeing something absolutely satanic and blood-curdling. Upon arriving home, you offer Ouma a suspicious look. He snickers devilishly.

- “Nishishi … What I did was a lot less boring than just leaving them be! You now have nothing to worry about, S/O!”

Kiibo

- “S/O! I sense that something is wrong! Please do not hesitate to tell me what that something is! I will not allow for you to push me away this time.”

- At work, there was this individual that liked you, but you did not reciprocate their feelings. The situation quickly became alarming and potentially dangerous. They began stalking you, following you around whilst being close behind, calling you derogatory names and terms, and cyberbullying you. You thought that returning home would grant you some space, but the cyberbullying prevented that. They haunted you and you were always in a state of worry, sadness, or fright.

- You never wanted to reveal this to Kiibo, as you did not wish to trouble, scare, or worry him, knowing his innocence and purity. Because the individual was potentially dangerous, you wanted to spare him, knowing they would harrass him as well for being different. So you kept quiet. He noticed, but whenever he would ask, you shrugged it off. He didn’t wish to pry any further if you didn’t want to share, so he would not persist.

- One day, it became too much. They threatened you, declaring that they knew where you lived. The message shook you to your soul, clasping at your heart and nearly suffocating you. You hear him calling you, but you don’t respond. You were paralyzed with fear, until your bedroom door swung open, and within an instant, Kiibo’s warmth engulfed you. He was holding you tightly from behind, his eyes closed tight and his face buried into your back.

- He is practically pleading for you to allow him to help you, and you show him your phone. He reads it over quickly, and exclaims that this is extremely serious, and that he won’t stand for this kind of harassment toward you from anyone. Without a second thought, he phones the police, and afterward, grabs you by the hand and leads you to the car. He drives you both to the police station, and upon arriving there, he meets with the police officer with whom he was on the phone with. Kiibo gently asks for your phone, and shows it to the officer. This was a form of dangerous harrassment, and the individual is to be reprimanded.

- You are breathless as this all unfolds. Despite his usual meek demeanor and unfamiliarity with human institutions, he handled this so bravely and with so much determination. He believed your well-being, happiness, and life was on the line, and he knew he had to take action, no matter how drastic. He even asked you if you would like to move someplace else.

- You look at him, loving him with everything you had. During this entire process, he was so set on protecting you that he paid no heed to anything else, and when you hugged him, he finally was brought to tears.

- “S/O … I was so … frightened, by everything that has happened to you. I just love you so much and … please, next time this happens, come to me right away, okay? I love you, so much.”

#danganronpa imagines #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa killing harmony #hajime hinata #kiibo #kokichi ouma #teruteru hanamura #nagito komaeda #sfw #modkiibo #modkiibo really tried

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abs0luteb4stard · 5 years

Text

Year's Edge. Year: 20

I wish I could focus. My head is scattered at the years end.

It's a standing at the edge of a precipice. Another year went by with little accompliment. For me it's not just that. It's the arrested development of myself. Often I feel my life just carries on but I don't carry with it. I'm another year older every year, but I'm frozen, I'm not moving forward.

And I'm not. Not really. I have nothing to show for it. All the dreams I had in my pre-teen years were stomped out before I had any ambition or determination to do any of them. Some say don't blame the past, move on, success is the greatest revenge. But how?

It still crosses my mind often enough. The names and faces, the pushing my books out of my hands between every class period, spitting on me, calling me every name that can be called. Making fun of my clothes or how I look, or my name. Choking me, hitting me, making up rumors about me to get more people to avoid me or bother me. Sexually bothering me, harrassing me. Watching friends abandon me, betray me, make fun of me too.

This wasn't when the mood struck them or when they saw me, these bullies were in almost all my classes, when they weren't in my class their buddies were. Always threatening me hurting me all day, every day, for 2 years in middle school, then it continued but with a more casual frequency as the more vocal and focused 'leader' of them went to another high school than I did. Although it wasn't a hierarchy like so many fictional stories portray, it was a loose but interconnected group that somehow took to finding me their scapegoat.

If I fight I get into trouble. Of I don't I get bullied. If I'm provoked nobody cares, they only care when I retaliate. Should I have fought a group of them? Gotten beaten up, bloodied of maybe killed? All it would take is one too many of them or someone to hit me in the temple hard enough or the back of the neck and paralyze me. They could say I started it. A thousand things could happen.

I could have easily gone there and shot a few of these assholes with a big fucking grin on my face. I knew where my dad's gun was. But what then? Go to prison? Or a death penalty? That wasn't going to help me either.

So now what? Two thirds of a lifetime later I'm still trapped in my head. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Whatever it is. It doesn't change that this is where I am. Call it PTSD or lactose intolerance. The name and description doesn't mean anything to me. It's the broken spirit. It's that I can't move on even now when it's so far in the rear view mirror, but it doesn't matter because it's effect is still embedded in me, like a deer tick gives you Lyme disease even if the tick is removed, your liver is still going to be fucked from it.

So now, I look up the first bully, the one who got the ball rolling. Probably not good thing to do emotionally, but I did it. He's got a wife and kid and house and is a regular person. He's balding, so at least there's that. He got a picture from some wedding where he's drinking a beer but he's got a nasty looking booger in his nostril.

How nice for him. The others aren't too different, some balding, some are losers druggie assholes, some are happy go lucky successes and sell outs.

But they look pretty damn well off socially, they're in their own places with mortgages and all that. I don't know if they're happy from pictures. Even the most depressed person on earth is happier than usual from time to time.

Honestly I don't care. I hope in my heart that theyre suffering, that they have some horrendous medical issues, that theyre relationship is on the rocks, that their loved ones are dying, that their kid died from a dog mauling. I hope to the depths of my soul that they are suffering in some horrendous way. They don't have to suffer as much or more than me, but I hope they are. I hope they are breaking inside like I did. I hope they're contemplating suicide like I have many times over, everyday coming home from school hopeless and defeated by their cruelty. Too worn out to care about my grades or my education or my future.

I'll always hate them and wish them unending tortures. Whether I ever find any peace in myself or not.

I tried forgiveness. I've said and even prayed for it when such a thing even used to cross my mind, I was never a very religious person, but even as much as my family was, I tried even that in my desperation to get over their cruelty.

What else is there to do in desperate existential crisis, a war that both inside and outside of them? Coming home after school, After My dad left to go to the store, My fingers interlocked so tight I would leave nail marks on the backs of my hands, tears uncontrollably coming out of me, asking why "would God give Moses the power to split the red sea, or send word to Noah that he should build a boat, but not rescue me from this thing that would effectively end my dreams. Because I didn't care anymore. And I still can't find a reason to care all this time later. I have very little to care about in regards to myself.

It cut me down early enough in my life that after food never tasted the same, that I'm forever marred in my sensations of the world. Faith broken, not just in some silly God that I only half believed in anyway, but broken that anyone would ever do anything when there was injustice being visited on me. Countless principal visits, both when I retaliated and when I needed help, needed this bullying to stop, needed to be shown that the ones who hurt you are punished, but they weren't.

So here I am. In my insomnia I traveled into this painful introspective territory that I usually pretend to ignore all year until the last week of December.

Sadly it always brings me back to the movie quote from "Scent of a Woman" (1992), probably because I saw that movie for the first time all the way through about when I left community college because of my social anxiety/phobia took it's toll and pushed me out of school.

"I've been around, ya know? There was a time I could see. And I have seen. Boys like these, younger than these. Their arms torn out, their legs ripped off. But there is nothing like the sight of an amputated spirit. There's no prostetic for that. You think you're merely sending this splendid foot solder back home to Oregon with tail between his legs, but I say you are executing his SOUL!"

- Lt. Col. Frank Slade (Al Pacino)

Because it was how I felt in school, how I felt ever since. I feel all the spirit I had until tha point in my life was gone. Growing up I had birthday parties with friends, i had people come over, I was always a deeply shy little kid, but my mom got the whole thing together, and when I was around a few people I felt comfortable with I was able to come out of that shell a little, sometimes at regular hangout with 1 or 2 friends I was talkative and had as much fun as my bad little knee pains would let me have.

Now I look at the pictures of myself from grade school or the ones on the wall when I was 5 and I see a cute little boy, who's smile came naturally, who had some kind of answer for "What do you want to be when you grow up?" When it was asked.

Now if you were to ask me I'd have a hard time telling you anything. If it was particularly bad day I could say "dead".

But even then in all my self doubt, insecurity, anxiety, and hopelessness I prefer being alive to dead.

I mean being is better than not being. At least there are a few good days in with the bad ones. My parents love me, And I've made a few friends that make things enjoyable and even lovely to have.

But I just can't get free of those traumatic experiences, and I still feel even with all the good parts of my life that made me happy, and sometimes feeling content, there are parts that are still war ravaged and are like salted earth where nothing can grow ever again. That my spirit is amputated as the movie quote says. Because I feel truly dead inside in that way. I have little hope for the future.

How does anyone escape that kind of prison by that kind of prolonged thing happening to them? I guess you don't or you do. There's no middle ground, because I've tried the "processes" of one day at a time and all that buzzword bullshit. So that's all there is to it I guess.

#my post #my thoughts #ptsd #bullshit i'm dealing with #self worth #traumatic #bullying #dark thoughts #i hate these nights

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