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#its been almost half a decade huh
porcalinecunt · 7 months
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𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄.
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→ you were never ment to be a good husband, and neither was he. so what now? simple. when the spouses aren’t home, someone else is.
🎧 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
♟️𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 / 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓
𝐜𝐰 — infidelity. trans!reader. pussy slapping. degredation. some spanking. edging (?). rough sex. creampie. no aftercare. mean dom! sae. sex addiction (?).
a/n » i told yall i was cooking up smth ;) anyways, life sucks sm ass rn but sae brainrot + a need for angst got me making this. this might end up as a mini series but i’m not 100% sure yet. i’ll see how well it does on here and on ao3 (pls support my works there too 🤍) otherwise, enjoy the fic!
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Cold. That’s the only thing you could feel besides your numbing fingers and goosebumps rising on your limbs. The house could get so cold during the wintertime, then again, it’s much warmer than when Rin was home.
Rin Itoshi, the man many would kill to have a chance with, who was your beloved husband. Together for half a decade now, marrying while still being quite young. To many, it was a dream come true and you cannot blame them for that. Rin had it all. Wealth, looks, a successful career as a pro soccer player. He had it all, or better said, almost had it all. Even for him, he lacked the very thing a husband should have. Love for his spouse.
He wasn’t the most loving husband, instead the polar opposite. Many days he was mostly cold, floating around you as if he was a ghost. You rarely hear him utter an “I love you” or any sweet names you’d give him. The most you get is a quick peck on the cheek, then off he goes. again and again.
So it was no surprise you’d find another man to spend spare time with, it was who it was that made it so taboo. And he had just arrived.
The doorbell rang, startling you out of your trance. Your body almost moved completely on its own, turning the knob till the door cracked open, revealing your company for the night.
He didn’t say a word, only standing there. Sae Itoshi, your seemingly brother in law. Then again, he doesn’t really deserve nor fit the title. He’s the very last person Rin would want in his home, and for very good reason. He’s cruel, untrustworthy, and a liar, but then again, he’s all the things you’d wish Rin was. Even if it came with the uglier bits. Sae didn’t waste time walking through the door, pulling you into a passionate kiss.
The man didn’t utter a ‘hello’, and was already prying at your pants. Palming at your soaking cunt, not breaking the kiss to let you breathe. He could be so greedy, so selfish. His lack of foreplay and even care for you was addictive, he was quick and straight to the point, useful when it comes to covering your act up quickly.
“S-Sae..”
You winced, but the man doesn’t stop for anything. Instead, tearing off the loose pajama top you had on and trailing his lips from your face to your jawline. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he carried you off into your bedroom. Plopping you onto the very bed your husband sleeps on, the sheets still smelling like him.
“Still aren’t gonna leave him?” Sae asked, his tone condescending and almost mean.
You shook your head, hearing him scoff before he began to unbutton his shirt. You felt your stomach twist once he fully shed off his white collar top, immediately going for the belt next. You sat up, almost reaching out to unzip his pants but was pushed back down. This time, his hand gripped your wrist and pinned you down.
“So impatient, Rin has been neglecting you huh..”
You quickly nodded, your cunt throbbing with need. It’s been too long since you had a cock stuff you full, your fingers couldn’t satisfy you nor could any of your toys. Rin didn’t help either, even when you two did have sex, he lacked the intimacy and treated it more like a chore if anything. You don’t remember him even trying. With Sae, however, it was almost like the man knew your body better than your own husband. It’s a damn shame you can’t always see him.
Sae climbed on top of you, crashing his lips against yours. His tongue poked and licked at your lips till he pried them open, stuffing your mouth till you whined from the overwhelming feeling. You clung onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin till it became red.
He snuck his fingers between your thighs, digging into your boxers till his slender fingers reached between your folds. He teased, pressing his thumb against your throbbing clit. He chuckled when he heard you shudder against his touch, prompting him to gently slap your cunt. Your legs snapped shut, but not enough before he forced them back open and placed another (and harder) slap. You screwed your eyes shut, hissing from the slight sting yet the rush of pleasure that sent chills down your back.
“S-Sae please—“
“Please what? Speak up.”
He leaned closer, spitting his venom in your ear. His lips touched the flushed lobe, to the point where you nearly fell backwards.
“Please fuck me, please i’ve been waiting for—“
You whispered, already breathless. You couldn’t finish, however, as Sae once again landed another and harsher slap on your soaked cunny. A loud yelp tore from your throat, before a string of sobs filled the room.
“C’mon, giving up already..?”
He inched his hand away, causing you to grab his wrist and place it back onto your weeping cunt. You pleaded, and oh did you plead. Begging for his cock, for him to use you to his heart’s content, even if he broke you a little bit. He was yours, torn out of Rin’s arms and onto his dick effortlessly. It was embarrassingly easy, but then again, Sae always gets what he wants. Always.
He finally tore your boxers off, discarding them and looked down at the view in front of him. Flustered and eager, your legs spread wide open and your eyes syrupy from the tears you shed earlier. The sight made him harder than a rock, prompting him to fish out his cock from his tight pants. It was already leaking precum, the tip a flushed red as he stroked it, lubing up his dick. You took him plenty of times, so he’d stop using lube and fuck you raw.
“You like this don’t you? Taking another man raw while Rin is away. So fuckin’ shameless..”
He hissed, emerald eyes staring down at you like a predator. His face filled with lust and a carnal desire that begs to be released, released onto someone like you. Slowly, he sunk into you, biting back a groan. He looked down, watching his cock dissapere in your tight cunny. He watched your face shift, your mouth opening into an O shape and your eyebrows tilting upwards. It was a sight he could never get bored of. He leaned down, bottoming out while pressing kisses against your cheek and jawline. You were caged between his large arms, his body hovering over yours. You couldn’t help but open your eyes a bit and stare at your lover’s face. He was so damn beautiful, almost unreal. It’s no surprise he caught your eye when you saw him for the first time.
Sae moved slowly, dragging his cock in and out while peppering open mouthed kisses against your neck and chest, his mouth eventually catching one of your nippled. He licked and toyed with it while pinching the other between his fingers, grinning when he heard your mewls and cries. The sounds you made went straight to his dick, an insatiable appetite growing in him. He just couldn’t get enough, no matter how many times he stuffed your greedy cunt.
The sound of skin slapping against one another got louder once he quickened his pace, fucking every little sound your throat hid out. “Ah-ah-ah—“ choppy moans and cut off sobs from his sharp thrusts filled the rooms till its all you could hear. You could barely hear Sae’s degrading names and the rare groan that slips off his tounge.
“Greedy thing, aren’t you?”
He muttered against your skin, pulling away as he slowed down a bit but his thrusts remained harsh. Inching closer and closer to your cervix, your eyes rolled back till you began to see stars. Your fingers curled into the sheets below you, the pit in your stomach growing till you felt like you were gonna pass out from the heat and pleasure.
“Sae..! Why did you slow do—“
A loud smack along with a stinging pain on your inner thigh cut off your whines and forced a crooked sob out of your sore throat. Before you could look up, Sae pulled you up by your arms and flipped you onto your stomach. Pulling your hips up till your on your knees, you looked up from the pillow to meet Sae’s eyes. Strands of his hair stuck to his face, his gaze focused on your current position. While he lacked the love Rin at least had, his tone dripped with lust along with his seductive details in his face and body made you disregard how he could care less about you.
Rin still had the decency to treat you like how a lover should, you were just another paramour to Sae.
And he treated you as such, slamming his heavy cock back in your abused cunt. His hands gripping on your hips, enough to surely leave hand marks. You couldn’t keep up with his pace, to the point where Sae was just pulling your numbing body onto his dick. Fucking you hard and deep like if you were a damn fleshlight.
“Sae! Sae! Sae!”
You sobbed, clawing at your bedsheets until your fingers curl into the already ruined pillow. You stuffed your face into it, trying to muffle your screams. You’d hate it if any of your neighbors overheard what you were doing when your husband was away.
“Y-you’re too good, fuck..! Ah..!”
He abruptly stopped, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing your head up from the pillow.
“Yeah? Better than your dear husband?”
In a dumbified state, your lover balls deep and your body hot and numb, you nodded.
You admitted it, you actually fucking admitted it.
He laughs, breathlessly. In a mixture of shock and appeasement, he picked up his pace until your body was practically rocking up against the bed. He kept your head up, deep emerald eyes staring holes into your mind. He didn’t have to keep guessing, he already knew anyway. He just didn’t expect you to admit it in your most vulnerable state. Usually, a good husband would reassure his love for his significant other, even in the act of infidelity. Whether it was a lie or not, the spouse would always be first and everything.
But he could make someone break that rule so easily, and it fueled his ego to no end. The rush and pleasure he gets from this, from fucking his brother’s husband dumb till his cunny was filled with his seed. Even the image of it gets his dick hard. No matter what Rin would do, Sae would always get the upper hand. Even when it came to the very person who vowed up and down to be with him till death.
That gut wrenching feeling pushed Sae over the edge, as he shoved your head into the pillow once again and pressed his body against yours. You let out one final cry as the warm feeling of his cum filling your cunny overwhelmed you, twitching and shaking underneath him. Your mind went blank, only thinking about his cock that still sat in you. Not at all about Rin, or the fact that you're doing this behind his back. You didn’t remember the overwhelming guilt that would wash over you once Sae leaves the room. The short afterglow of it all, that’ll slowly melt into the same loneliness that had you running into his arms anyways.
An addictive cycle, one you refuse to break despite the consequences it’ll bring soon enough.
Sae pulls out, the feeling of your empty cunt ruining the afterglow. You weakly turn your body around, watching him redress himself. He didn’t have the decency or time to give you proper aftercare, after all, he has better things to tend to. Better yet, a better person.
“Still with her?”
You asked, annoyance and jealousy made clear in your tone. Your lover turned around, just as he was buttoning up his shirt. His face was traced with irritation and maybe a bit of anger with the way you referred to his wife.
“Tch. Think I'm gonna leave her for you?”
“You might as well, Sae..”
He turned away at your response, clearly not listening. You rolled your eyes, staying quiet as he slips his shoes on without saying another word. He leaves the room, as you listen to him walking down the stairs and out the front door. Cold and alone, once again.
Being selfish was the worst decision you could’ve made, and not just for you.
Your phone dinged, revealing a text from your husband. With a grimace face, you opened it much to your regret.
rinnie 💙: I miss you y/n. Let’s do something together once I get back, yeah?
You clutched your phone. Rin almost never texts, let alone even says “i miss you”. Reading that message was a punch to the gut, as you could almost hear the sincerity of his message.
Bastard. Why now?
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🎧 this work belongs to @porcalinecunt. reblogs and feedback are appreciated. <3
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bug-bites · 4 months
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one of my fav things to read/write is a f!reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley, where the reader is almost exactly like ghost. I'm talking full black mask, (maybe legally dead) few words, silent, callsign generally spooky like Reaper or Phantom, and I was wondering if you would wanna do that?
Usually I have reader as a childhood friend or adopted sibling of Roach, which is why roach is so comfortable around ghost. He's just used to it. If it's pure fluff or platonic that's completely fine, and if you don't wanna do that it's also fine!! I just thought I might as well shoot my shot :)
Your an amazing writer, have an awesome day <3
seeing double
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cw: canon-typical violence, breif (pun intended) mention of ghost having skeleton boxers (nothing like explicit though i dont even know if this needs to be mentioned tbh but better safe than sorry), ghost gets shot womp womp, angst w/ a happy ending, so many military inaccuracies, barely proofread :P
pairing: platonic!simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader, gary 'roach' sanderson & reader
characters: simon 'ghost' riley, gary 'roach' sanderson (price, gaz and soap mentioned v briefly!)
authors note: omg you are so sweet thank you so much!! sorry this took so long i've been so busy with things, i hope you don't mind that i got a bit silly with this one and basically wrote a fic in jot notes 😭 (ALSO ROACH MENTION!! I LOVE MY BBYG THANK YOU ANON <3)
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when you first met ghost he genuinely thought this was a joke. the balaclava, the whole death motif, your callsign being phantom which is literally synonymous with ghost, even your attitude was so eerily similar to him. it was like looking in a mirror
it didn't help when he tilted his head you mirrored your actions
i think he wouldn't gravitate immediately to you, it's not that he didn't like you he just felt a bit odd with how similar you two were, in all honesty he was probably slightly unnerved by you
soap and gaz definitely crack jokes about you being the second coming of ghost or something dumb like that
whenever anyone is referring to you and ghost and phantom it was always "the ghosts" or "ghost and girl ghost" which pissed you OFF
roach cant count all the times you have ranted to him about how everyone treats ghost like he came up with your whole aesthetic and you copied him when you have been doing this for YEARS before you even met ghost!
"and everyone acts like he invented skeletons and being legally dead! how self centered do you have to be to act like you invented skeleton iconography?! THEYRE SKELETONS. THATS LIKE BASIC HUMAN ANATOMY. and its always men taking the credit- god its so stupid! i did shit this first and how do i know that he isn't copying me huh?? did we ever think of that?? and ghost is such a basic ass fucking name like really. ghost? bet the only reason he wears that mask is to cover up his casper sized forehead."
roach knows that you're annoyed and you probably aren't trying to be super mean- maybe you don't even think ghosts forehead is casper sized! but hey, he isn't trying to argue while you look like you're about to rip someone's head off
instead he opts for calmly signing words of comfort lest you tear ghosts head off (with a few minor corrections)
"yes roach i know phantoms are pretty much the same as ghosts but that's not the point. you're basically my brother. you have to be on my side. that's how it works."
its good you and roach get along with each other. however, since you are just so similar with someone whos name starts with s and ends with imon "ghost" riley he becomes friends with roach quite easily and rants to him too
"she thinks shes so fookin crea'ive but you know wha? she isnt. bet ive been in SAS longer than her. wheres 'er skull tattoo at?? cause i got a whole sleeve done almost a decade ago! she isnt the first to come up wi' this. see, i get youre friends wi' 'er but truth is she di'nt come up wi' all o' this 'erself and she isn't half as dedicated as me. i even got skeleton boxers! she got those??- wait no dont answer tha' i dont wan' tha' image in my head."
for the first month or two whenever you see each other its clear you two do not get along.
roach tried to crack a joke but if anything it just made you hate ghost more
"hey, phantom. what's got two legs and bleeds?" "half a dog." you and ghost respond in unison
the rest of the day you dont even acknowledge each other. price makes a joke about how "you both are acting like you killed someone" which you mutter a small "oh im going to that's for sure" under your breath
safe to say you had a long rant to roach about how now not only is he stealing your whole persona, he's taking your jokes now too
you think roach would be torn between choosing sides but no this man loves every second of it. its so petty- so stupid he just needs to see how long you two idiots will keep butting heads
you mention how you were planning on getting a red mask? he's going up to ghost being like "hey, ghost did i ever tell you red is totally your colour? you know what actually? you should get a red mask!"
you both walk into the next briefing with your new masks and you couldn't be more pissed
to make matters worse you both are teamed up for the next mission. something about stopping a major arms dealer but ghost is the one getting his hands dirty. all you need to do is get into security, guide him through the complex enough for him to grab intel and leave
its simple. you've done it a billion times before, same with ghost. the first half goes fine. you both get in, he grabs the intel and is ready to head out, both of you speaking only when necessary.
minor issue- actually major issue, getting out wasn't as smooth. somehow ghost ended up shot right as he's notifying you that he's almost out. you hear the gunshot ring out, a grunt and scuffling.
"phantom to ghost. how copy."
your voice rings out, an eerie silence following after
"ghost. how copy."
you repeat again, this time earning a response
"m' alive. shot in the leg. bullet went clean through, makin a torniquet as we speak" he grunts back. you have never been happier to hear his stupid manchester accent "keep it that way."
if past you knew those four words directed at ghost would come out of your mouth, you're pretty sure you would've stolen a tank and driven it off a cliff immediately with ghost in it too probably
but now is not the time hotwiring a tank and locating a cliff would take too long anyways, you guide him out, occasionally telling him some stupid fun fact to make sure he's still there or just to keep him alert
"did you know that jellyfish have one hole for their mouth and asshole?" "these get more concerning the more you tell me." "most koalas have chlamydia." "alrigh', 'nuff of that. fun facts are s'pposed to be fun, you know that right?" "learning is fun."
this earns a chuckle from him which he quickly covers up with a cough
he makes it out alive, busted up that's for sure but alive nonetheless
you hook his arm over your shoulder, talking about everything and anything to keep him conscious. he's going to listen anyways so might as well make the most of it
"you're not as bad as i thought you'd be, 'specially for a copy cat." he says after you tell him yet another bizarre animal fact "i got a red mask first by the way" "piss off. this is why i don't compliment you" he rolls his eyes, for once not out of annoyance "i wear it better anyways." "sure, sure. believe what you want, but just know that i'm the cooler one." "you also are shit at making tourniquets" "so you finally admit that i'm cooler." no amount of eyerolling or snappy comebacks can hide your grin at this point. you silently thank your past self for choosing to wear a mask all the time "you're quite bold for someone who got shot in the leg"
once you two get back, practically everyone is surprised how all the deadly glares and colorful insults muttered under heavy sighs between you two have now been replaced with playful banter and empty threats with no murderous intent behind them
price heard you laughing with ghost followed up with you telling ghost "they will never find your body" which did scare the shit out of him but it made ghost laugh so hard he nearly pissed himself
price made sure to check that ghost was in fact alive for the next few days, just to make sure you were joking
when asked about it both of you just shrug and reply "trauma bonding."
roach, although disappointed with the absence of drama is glad to see two of the most special people in his life getting along bros just sad he cant be an instigator anymore
and as soon as ghost comes back from leave, he's got double the scary dog privileges he originally had
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musei-thoughts · 11 months
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𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴.
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘚𝘩𝘶 𝘠𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1978𝘸.
𝙖/𝙣: 𝘪 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘶'𝘴 𝘰𝘰𝘤. 𝘪 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 :(
𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙨: @shouyaiofficial (𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨...)
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Two men stood in a field as the wind blew past them, tension filling the air. 
Shu kept his peace, keeping an observant eye on his opponent.
"You..." the taller male spoke, his long raven hair flows across his face with his two sharp horns protruding from his head. 
"...have what I want."
The tip of his blade points at the sorcerer, his glare piercing through his soul.
the latter stays silent, bracing himself for what the demon has in store for him.
"Give me the scroll and I will spare your life."
is voice was firm, commanding, but Shu remained quiet, staring at his blade.
The demon took his silence as an answer. He readies himself to cut the male in half but then he spoke,
"In your dreams, demon."
Everything was black.
"..-hu...shu...SHU!!!"
The sound of footsteps gradually became louder as Shu struggled to pry his eyes open.
"Oh my god, please be alive..." The sound of his lover's worried voice rings in his ears as his consciousness slips away.
The sound of soft humming reaches his ears as warmth envelopes his frame. Shu flutters his eyes open, lifting his face from the soft place where his head rested, which was his lover's chest.
"Good morning Shu."
Meeting your warm smile, his heart melts making him bury his face back into your chest, hiding his flustered self. "Morning..."
"How are you feeling?"
"Huh?"
"Hikarino and I found you in the middle of the forest passed out and bleeding..."
"Passed out...?"
You nod and continued with a serious voice, "We carried you back and called the doctor as soon as we could, you were...bleeding so much that I thought..." A grimace makes its way into your face at the memory of him unconscious on the ground, heavily injured.
Shu was a strong sorcerer, but seeing him like that pushes you to the brink. He was so pale and vulnerable. He almost looked...
Dead.
Shu lifts himself off you and sits upright, wincing from the pain from his wound.
The sight of worry on your face made his heart ache, "I'm sorry..."
He knew how you hated it when he gets hurt, when people get hurt.
For some reason, you couldn't help but feel guilty.
He pulls you into his arms, comforting you with the words: "No matter what, I'll always come back to you..."
You couldn't help but nuzzle against him, feeling safe and secure in his embrace. "When the doctor came to check up on you, he said that you can't use you magic in your state, so no working today and rest till you recover, okay?" You looks up at him, waiting for his reply.
The sorcerer nods, "M'kay. No working till I recover." He smiles.
You two shared a loving kiss, cherishing each other's mere presence and warmth. Oh how you wished your days together were always like this.
Five years. That's how long you've been together. Shu couldn't ask for anything better than being by your side.
You two met during a battle between demons and sorcerers. Your hometown was attacked by demons and the nearby sorcerers—who knew how to cast them off— came and protected them.
Those vile creatures are all after the same thing.
You.
Your blood to be exact. Your father's side was a family favored by the gods for serving the emperor and was "blessed" with blood that  can make demons fall to their knees.
Blood that was finer than wine, sweeter than honey and more intoxicating than anything else the world could offer. Blood that could quench any demon's thirst that would last them decades.
Along with that, they were blessed with many male children in assurance of their family's continuous reign over the generations.
Since a female child was rare, they were considered a delicacy to demon kind.
You were so close to dying in the hands of a demon but Shu swept you off your feet and saved your life.
It didn't take long for courtship to follow and now you were happily married.
Pulling away from the kiss, Y/n points a finger at Shu's face, "Also, whether you be injured or not, you better not do anything reckless, okay Mr. Yamino?" The pout on your face made him chuckle, "Yes ma'am."
Taking your lover's hands in yours, Your pout slowly turns into a sad and worried frown, "Promise?"
With his other hand, Shu caresses the side of your face with his thumb.
"Promise." His voice was tender and quiet.
You sighed with a smile, you know he meant it. You  knew that he won't break his promise no matter what happens.
Or would he?
Night came and the couple slept soundly in their shared room, but as midnight struck, Shu opens his eyes and gently pulls away from you. He quietly left the room, heading to the basement.
He clutches onto his wound, little groans leaving his lips as he climbs down the stairs.
It was that demon who did this.
Golden irises, raven hair, and that look of determination to get whatever he wants.
What the demon wanted wasn't you, but a scroll. A manuscript of a spell that would turn back time. Time was not something you should mess with, one little change can alter the whole future.
If this demon gets his hands on the spell, the present never have happened. Meeting you may never have happened.
That's why he has to get rid of this scroll. He knew that it was a reckless decision, but it was a now or never situation.
No demon has gotten this close to killing him. He knew that he wasn't in the best state to use his magic, but this was to protect the present and future.
His future with you.
Shu's hand grasps onto the scroll as he drew a magic circle on the basement floor. He placed the piece of paper on the center and with a deep breath, he began to chant.
"Ad horam inter diem et noctem hanc a superficie verbi deleo..." Whirls of his magic create big winds, surrounding the room with bright light.
On the other hand, you were woken up by a sudden lurking presence. "Shu...?" you turned to his side  of the bed only to see him gone.
Getting off the bed, you anxiously walking through the dark halls of their home. You felt piercing eyes on you making your heart pound in your chest. With every step that you took, the presence got closer.
"S-stay away!!" you yells in panic and began running. Then, you hears noises from the basement. Thinking that Shu would be there, you burst through the door in fear.
"...Non magicis ullus , nec aliquod Sacrificium hoc carmine repetat- Y/n?!"
"Sh-shu! There's someone in the hous-!!!"
Shu stops chanting.
The spell was interrupted.
And he loses control.
The levitating scroll began to shake violently. Then suddenly the whole room was engulfed with blinding light. Your ears were filled with the whirring of the magic; so loud that your ears began to ring.
The light slowly fades and the scroll falls to the ground, unscathed.
Wait...
If the scroll wasn't destroyed, then what did the spell hit...?
Shu stood there for a moment before turning around, "Y/n, are you oka-
Y/n...?
Y/N!!!"
You felt cold, but your body was burning. The pain was so much but you couldn't scream.
You couldn't move.
Blood coats your silky white nightgown as you breathe your lover's name, "Shu..."
On your chest was a hole that was shot through you by the destructive spell, burning every bit of skin on its way.
It didn't take long for a pool of blood to form around your frail figure.
You were dying.
Shu ran towards you, dropping to his knees before your frail figure. He fumbles with his potions and spell book, repeatedly muttering the words: "Hang in there Y/n...I-I can fix this. I can fix this..."
He finds a spell and casts it on you, light envelops his hands along with your wound, "damnum solve..." The light slowly fades,
but your wound doesn't.
Shu felt the panic rise, his heart dropping to his stomach. He turns the pages of the spell book, his breath heavy and uneven as he tries again. "sanare vulnus...sana hoc vulnus divina virtute ignis..."
Shu does another attempt, ending with nothing happening. Tears prickled his eyes as you stared at the ceiling with your dull eyes.
You couldn't die.
Not like this.
He's not ready.
He needs to save you.
"Aquis..." he closes his eyes, feeling his strength leave him. "Y/n...stay with me.."
Shu sets his fatigue aside and tries again.
"Ut auferet eam dolor..."
and again.
"da eam ad me..."
and again,
"Quaeso.. reduces eam..."
but in the end,
He couldn't save you.
Gently placing your head onto his lap, his face contorted in pain and grief. "Y/n..." He whispers.
"Please...wake up.." He mutters brokenheartedly.
Moments passed and he stares at his lover's lifeless body, he couldn't move or make another noise.
It felt like his soul had been ripped away from his body along with his sanity.
All he could feel was emptiness.
Until...his eyes turns to see the scroll that long forgotten on the floor.
Grasping it within his hand, he holds it tight in his hand.
He looks at your unmoving figure before standing up and carrying you back to your room. Shu gently places you down on the bed, he was so careful as if you were made of glass.
You laid there, looking so...peaceful.
The moon's light peeks from the window and cascades down onto your pale skin, illuminating your perfectly sculptured face.
Shu stares down at you as he stood before the bed where you laid. Soon after his legs gave up on him and he falls into his knees, clutching onto the satin sheets.
The sound of your name left his lips as he wept, his painful cries rang through your home for hours.
Dawn soon came, and Shu takes your hands in his. His tear stained face contorts in sorrow as his warm hands makes contact with yours.
"Your hand is so cold...." He weakly muttered, bringing your cold hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on it.
The sorcerer closes his eyes for a moment before standing up and leaning in to give you a kiss one last time.
As his lips parted from yours, he whispers his last, "I love you..." before walking to the side of the room and drawing another magic circle.
He wasn't supposed to do this. He wasn't supposed to use the spell. He was suppose to destroy it and keep you safe.
But in the end, he failed.
At the cost of his joy.
His future.
Just because of his reckless decision.
Looking back at your figure, Shu begins the incantation, asking for forgiveness from his ancestors who forbade him to use the spell,
"Prima luce noctis, sub lucem diei,
ad floriditatem gemmarum et ad clamorem infantium
tempus vertatur in quando res futurae essent..."
He chants the words over and over until the words started to blur together. Then, all he sees is black.
His vision becomes clouded by the darkness, and his body goes numb before everything went silent.
Shu opens his eyes slowly as he felt himself lying down on something hard and damp. The feeling of pain reminded him of how severe his injury is, "Ugh..." he moaned in pain as he tried lifting his arms. His wound ached like hell.
As he struggled to stand up, he walks out of the dark alley.
His eyes squints at the bright lights of the city of modern day Tokyo.
Wait...
MODERN DAY TOKYO?!
Well, trying to go back in time to save your deceased lover was a decision that you could consider...
Reckless.
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𝘈/𝘯: 𝘴𝘰…𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 :)
𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 >:)
𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵: 𝘚𝘩𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘯𝘰𝘵. 𝘞𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘩𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴.
𝘏𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨??
← 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 │ 𝘕𝘦𝘹𝘵 →
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Any time I see someone say "Marvel knew what they were doing when they cast Tom Hiddleston" I feel a bit like...they didn't though? I think you're projecting some 4D chess grandmaster stuff onto Marvel Studios that doesn't really exist.
Tom was cast via Kenneth Branagh and yes it was PHENOMENAL casting but let's not pretend like Marvel Studios didn't spend the next near-decade and a half deleting Loki's scenes, killing him then instantly reviving him, deleting yet more of his scenes, killing him again, retconning killing him, sticking him off-screen for almost half a decade, removing yet another scene and not even compensating his fans with a DVD extra, killing him again, then suddenly remembering he's popular (again) and coming up with something to use a now-for-real-dead character as the lead but it wasn't exactly the same character (just another version of him) and now they're apparently done with him again when it's pretty obvious he'll be wheeled out of that tree at some point.
I love Loki. I love Tom's portrayal of Loki but the only people who have consistently genuinely seemed to care about the character are the fans. Because we've been given nothing but crumbs by Marvel and yet produce all this beautiful fan art, fan fic and meta. Marvel have just kinda stumbled around Loki like some perpetually confused pigeon in a hall of mirrors that keeps crashing into its own reflection shrugging "huh...what IS this? Ooh shiny!"
Knew what they were doing? More like lucked out with a very talented and charismatic actor and a dedicated fanbase that formed 2011-12 and is somehow, despite everything still here.
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staticpallour · 2 months
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WIP Wednesday
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What is up my Dudes? It's that time again! Tagged by the lovely @fangbangerghoul And I'll include the rest of the crew: @bearlytolerant, @a-cosmic-elf, @therealgchu, @spookyspecterino, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @atonalginger, @silurisanguine, @eridanidreams, @staticpallour, @toxiclizardwrites, @lisa-and-shadow, @samcoesclub, @5oh5, @aro-pancake,
If you have nothing to post, thats okay too! Since I shared Auroras Bio here, I figured it would be a cool time to show you guys Rora's reunion with Ben Armistead. Its a sweet little moment from the Ranger Questline in Rora's original universe. No Spoilers! I promise :) Enjoy!
Spotting the Rangers office to her right, she quickly made her way over to touch base. Come to think of it, she didn’t actually know who was stationed here. Usually the Marshal would include names in his briefs, but this one didn’t have a name. The office was just as sterile and cold as the rest of the station, the sea of white only broken by the older gentleman sat at the desk, the red of his uniform creating stark contrast. He looked up from his paperwork and smiled. “Ahhhhh, you must be the new Ranger, Rora. Welcome, I’m-” “Ben Armistead.” Aurora finished his sentence for him, as her eyes widened in surprise “Pardon my French but, Holy Shit.” She finished.  “Why yes, that’s right…have we met before?” “A long time ago…I uh, well my name is different now, you probably remember me by my government name” She paused for a beat. She hadn’t told anyone her Government name in over a decade. “…Aurora Moore.”  “Aurora Moore as I live and breathe.” A wide grin spread across his face as recognition washed over him. “My god, you’re all grown up now…and a Ranger. Your mama must be so proud of you, how is Patty anyway?”
“She…uh, she passed…couple years back…overdose.” She shifted uncomfortably. Not only would this news devastate Ranger Armistead, it would be a total surprise to Sam. She hadn’t told him much about her life before constellation, certainly not about her mother, nor the fact that she was named after a designer drug. This was not how she had intended for him to find out; she cursed whatever higher power was listening for putting her in this position.
“Went back to the junk huh?” Ben asked as his brows twitched with remorse. Aurora knew all too well what that remorse was like, she had lived with it more than half her life. She wanted nothing more than to give Ranger Armistead the peace of mind to know that he honestly couldn't have done anything to stop it. Patty Moore was a late stage addict, nothing could have saved her in the end. Not even him.
“Yeah…yeah she did.” Aurora smiled weakly.
Ben gave her shoulders a reassuring rub. “I’m sorry sweetheart, that really is too bad.”
As if on cue, Sam stepped forward through the threshold, a welcome distraction.
“And how're you doin old man?” He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Well I’ll be the son of an Ashta, Sam Coe.” Ben’s hands dropped to his sides as his mouth gaped open. “Well, it’s been too damn long, what, Cora must be…10, 11 by now?”
“She’s 12” Sam and Aurora said in unison.
“Almost a teenager!? Here I thought I had enough grey hairs as it is…” He said lost in memory. “And, Just hold on a damn minute, you two know each other?” He asked, looking wildly between them.
“We’re both with Constellation, actually.” Sam smiled. “Been travelling together for a few months now. I’m not pickin up the badge or nothin, just here to watch the Deputy’s back…see what kind of trouble we can get into.” He winked at Aurora. 
Ben let out a hearty chuckle. “What a small Universe…two ghosts from my past coming back to haunt me…together no less- in a good way o’course.” He grinned at the two of them for a second more before giving his head a gentle shake and turning to his desk.
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hannahmanderr · 7 months
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DANNY AND DAMON 👁️ (sorry i just love me the protective dad)
(affectionately calling this one Protective Detail)
part 1 ~ part 2 ~ part 3
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Of all things Damon Gray wasn't expecting on the night of the biggest snowstorm in a decade, a snow-covered Danny Fenton in his t-shirt and jeans standing outside his apartment door certainly had to be at the top of the list.
"Hi Mr. Gray!" Danny said brightly. "Mind if I come in?"
Damon gawked at the boy for a moment longer before seeming to come around. "Ah... yes, yes! Come on in! I can... grab a towel for you to dry off..."
Danny blinked before looking down at himself. "Oh!" Before Damon could say anything else, Danny's body flickered into a hazy mist, and the snow fell harmlessly through him and onto the floor. "Sorry about that," he said with a sheepish green as he flickered back into a solid form.
Damon couldn't help but gawk again. Sure, he'd known of Danny's status for years now (supposedly, Valerie had made Danny tell him after they'd graduated), but it wasn't often that he witnessed the boy he'd known as having the worst phobia of ghosts in Amity Park use such ghostly powers so easily. To witness him doing so now, after appearing on his doorstep in such a strange state, unannounced, was odd to say the least.
It wasn't until he realized that Danny was still watching him expectantly and he himself was still blocking the doorway that he noticed the silence stretching into discomfort. Muttering an apology, he stepped aside and ushered Danny in.
The door closed behind them with a heavy click. Now inside, Danny seemed to lose some of his bright demeanor as he shuffled on the entryway rug.
"Valerie's still at work," Damon said as he walked past Danny and into the kitchen area. "I'm hoping she gets off soon. I'm not sure I want her trying to get home in this storm. Can I get you anything to drink?"
"Huh? Oh, uh, no, that's alright, thanks!" Danny edged closer to the window in the living area. Outside, snow fell wildly, blowing in all sorts of directions, blocking any view there might have been. Really, he'd seen worse snowstorms in the Far Frozen, but the human world wasn't quite as adapted to it as the yetis were. Weather like this could spell serious trouble for humans.
Damon reemerged from the kitchen with a mug of something steaming. He stood next to Danny, and the two of them watched out the window. For a long, quiet moment, they simply stood, Danny with his arms wrapped around himself and Damon sipping quietly at his drink.
It was Danny who broke the silence first. "I still feel bad she has to come all the way from here in Elmerton to work in Amity Park," he said quietly.
"She does it to herself," Damon replied with an air of humor. "I keep telling her to just find a place there in town. That's where everything important is, that's where she should be."
"Not you." Danny barely realized the response had popped out on its own. "She's still really worried about you. I mean, I know things are better than they were, of course, but... y'know..."
"What, with this thing?" Damon raised his left arm with a tiny whirr, and Danny couldn't help but stare at the metal hand that waved back at him. "It's been working like a dream. I was just telling her the other day that sometimes, it feels like it works better than the one I lost!" Damon laughed quietly to himself.
Danny joined in, but it was half-hearted. Memories flashed through his mind - a brutal fight at Axion, a toppling metal supply closet, lights and sirens and frantic screams - and he physically winced. That accident had been nearly two years ago, but the memories lived fresh in his head, just like the memories of his own accident from almost a decade ago.
"I... I think she still blames herself sometimes," he said quietly. "For letting Spectra distract her. I keep trying to tell her it wasn't her fault; I was closer, I - I should've been fast enough to get to you, but..."
Damon nodded soberly. "She's a stubborn one. Gets it from her mother. Once she gets something in her head, she just doesn't let it go."
"Yeah."
The two fell back into an uneasy silence. Snow howled away outside, and a gust of wind blew a wall of flakes toward the window, nearly making Danny jump.
"She wants to live there," Damon finally said. "In Amity Park."
Danny almost gave himself whiplash turning to look at Damon. "She does?"
"Mhmm. Not that she'll ever admit it to me out loud -" - again, Damon laughed quietly to himself - "- but she's always talking about wanting to be closer to the FentonWorks. That way she can be closer to work and closer to the portal. Heaven knows how many times she's left to go fight a ghost only to come storming back in ten minutes later because you've already been able to handle it."
Danny couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. "Yeah, she's definitely given me an earful about that before."
"I'm sure she has! But you know, Danny, the thing she really talks about being closer to is you."
Danny's heart pounded in his chest. "Really?"
Damon glanced at him, something Danny couldn't decipher twinkling in his dark eyes. "Is it really that surprising?" he teased.
"Yeah? I mean, no! No! Er, maybe? Ish?"
Damon's laugh was much heartier this time. "Well, if it is a surprise to you, then she's doing a good job of hiding it from you. I can see it in her face when she talks about you. Just the way she lights up and starts talking faster and faster, like she just can't seem to contain whatever she's feeling. Even when she's mad at you, you can still tell she thinks the world of you."
He paused to sniff and wipe at his nose. "She's always worrying that she's not doing enough for me, especially since I lost my arm. I keep trying to tell her she's doing more than enough. Just seeing my baby girl so happy... that's all I need." He turned to look at Danny head on. "And I have you to thank for that."
Danny's heart swelled. The love was too overwhelming. It shouldn't have felt like such a surprise to hear Damon's praises, but just hearing the words come from his mouth...
Without thinking, he took a deep breath, and, in one rush of words, said, "I want to ask Valerie to marry me!"
Damon, who had taken a sip of his drink, proceeded to spit all over the window.
Danny winced. "I - I mean, only if that's okay with you, of course! I'm not... I would never just go behind your back or anything, no, but you know, it's just something I've been thinking about for a long time now and - and I mean it just feels like the right time, although maybe it's not, but I just... I love her so much, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, if - if that's okay?"
Damon blinked once, then twice in an attempt to process Danny's frantic speech. "You... want to marry Valerie?"
"I - uh..." If Danny's face had still been covered in snow, the heat coming from his cheeks would have melted it instantly. "I - yeah. I mean yes. Yes, I do. If... you'll let me."
For a long while, the two stared at each other. The longer the silence stretched on, the more Danny shrunk back into himself. This was such a bad idea, bad idea...
"Wait right there," Damon said before setting down his mug and jogging into the back hallway.
Danny could only watch him disappear, dumbfounded. The urge to just transform on the spot and high-tail it out of there grew stronger and stronger by the second. Such a bad idea.
His and Damon's relationship had started on rockier terms, sure, but it was only because he had been worried her hanging around Danny would end up with her swept into his parents' shenanigans, especially because he still hadn't been a big fan of her side job hunting ghosts back then. And okay, maybe there had been some hiccups back when Valerie had forced - er, persuaded him to tell the truth to her dad, but those had all been smoothed over by now, he'd thought.
Right?
When Damon returned, he held a tiny box in his hands and tears in his eyes. "Come here," he said, sitting down on the couch. Danny obeyed.
"I was a little younger than you and Valerie when I first met my Sherrie." Damon ran an absent thumb over the tiny box. "She was the TA for my stats class my junior year of college. I'm telling you, I walked into class on that first day and got the rug pulled straight out from under me the moment I saw her. The most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on..."
Danny's leg bounced anxiously, but he stayed quiet. Valerie had mentioned her mother a few times, but she'd died before Valerie could really remember. Hearing Damon talk about her now was unexpected, but he got the distinct feeling this story was important.
"I sat right next to her. Introduced myself, tried to act all suave and smooth by asking her out, then got my butt handed right back to me when the professor introduced her as the TA. Still didn't stop me from asking her out again, as soon as the class ended. And again, and again, and again. I just knew it was meant to be with her. The day she finally said yes, I felt like I was truly living again." The smile on Damon's face carried the wistfulness and nostalgia of years long past, and Danny couldn't help but smile himself.
Damon looked at Danny again. "What you and Valerie have... it reminds me of what me and Sherrie had. I see so much of her in Valerie. She's got the same spark, the same stubbornness in her blood. Both of them just have this drive and intensity, and it's one of the things I admire most in them."
"I love that about her," Danny said instinctively. His voice had taken on its own dreamy quality as memories of Valerie's tenacity flashed across his mind.
"And that's part of the reason I see so much of myself in you."
Danny nearly fell off of the couch as Damon's words struck him. "Wait, what?"
Damon laughed. "You're a bright young man, Danny. You take a lot of pride in what you do, and you always look out for the people you care about. Even that right there tells me you and I are a lot alike.
"Not to mention that for as much as I see how Valerie looks when she talks about you, I also see how you look when you talk about her. I see the same joy and wonder in you that Sherrie brought out in me. I don't need to ask to know you'd go to the end of the world and back for my baby girl. You'd do anything to keep her safe."
"I would," Danny agreed earnestly. "She's my whole world, Mr. Gray. I-I know it sounds really cheesy but... I need her. I don't know what I'd do without her in my life."
"I know," Damon said, offering a warm smile. "Which is why I'd like to give you this."
He offered Danny the tiny box. Danny took it gingerly, cradling it in his palm. "What is it?"
Tears pooled in the corner's of Damon's eyes again. "The ring I gave Sherrie when I proposed to her. When she got sick and... and we got the prognosis," he said, his voice becoming thicker as he spoke, "one of the things she made sure she made clear before she... passed on was that I could do whatever I wanted with it, but she wanted her wedding ring to go to Valerie."
The box suddenly felt much heavier in Danny's hand. "I thought you said this was the engagement ring?"
"It is. I couldn't help myself. I was selfish." Damon reached up to his neck and, from under his sweater, pulled out a chain. Hanging from it was a simple silver band, studded with tiny little diamonds and twinkling like a star. "I've worn this every day since she passed. I couldn't let her go. Valerie was too young to understand. I swore to myself that when she got old enough, I'd give this to her, but... I'm a weak man." He sniffled again and wiped a tear off of his cheek. "I love my Sherrie so much. I'll never let her go. Not even death can keep me from her."
Danny wiped a tear from his own eye. "I've come face to face with death. It was... the worst thing I've ever had to go through," he said in a near whisper. "For Valerie, I'd face it down a hundred times over."
"And that's exactly why I know I can trust you with that ring." Damon took his prosthetic arm and gently closed Danny's fingers over the box. "It's not the wedding ring Sherrie wanted to give her... but hopefully it's the next best thing."
"She'll love it."
Damon cracked a smile. "And just how do you know that? You haven't even seen it."
"I don't have to. I know for a fact this will mean more to her than any ring I could buy."
Tears falling from both of their faces, the two men leaned forward and wrapped their arms around each other's shoulders. Damon squeezed Danny tighter and tighter to him. "Take care of her for me," he whispered into his ear.
Danny shut his eyes tight and hugged Damon even tighter. "I promise."
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part 3 here
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animebw · 6 months
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Re-Watching: Kimi ni Todoke Season 2
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In which my opinion has flipped so completely on its head that I'm un-retiring for a single post to talk about it.
Return of the King
It's been almost two years since I've made a post like this.
For those of you who've only joined me after my semi-retirement on the tail end of 2021, The Anime Binge-Watcher used to be one of the most extensive anime analysis projects I've ever seen in Western fandom. I would consume anime at ridiculous rates and blog my thoughts in chunks of 3 or 4 episodes, piecing together all my observations and opinions in nice structured paragraphs like the ones you're reading now. In my glory days, I could get through two, three, even four posts a day. Heck, when I first watched Kimi ni Todoke five years ago, I tore through all twelve episodes of season 2 in a single day, writing no less than five separate analyses of my developing thoughts along the way. My long-term readers can attest to what a wild and wonderful journey it was, and even though I've since transitioned into a much looser and low-key blogging style, I still miss those days when I could spill countless words about the countless stories I consumed.
But of course, life moves on, and there was only so long I could dedicate that much of my free time to a hobby when real life was knocking at the door. I started this project as a college freshman with way too much free time on his hands; I'm an actual adult now, overseas job and everything. Not to mention all the other hobbies and creative pursuits taking up my attention. I just don't have enough time anymore to spend on truly in-depth analytical writing like I used to. And that's okay; the three-and-a-half years I dedicated to The Anime Binge-Watcher in its true form were more than enough to say everything I needed to about this medium and my relationship to it. This project is as complete as it could ever meaningfully be. So while I certainly miss those days, I'm more than happy to let this be my casual anime watching blog from now on.
But I'm making an exception today.
Because re-watching the second season of Kimi ni Todoke has so thoroughly upended my opinion on it that I have no choice but break my thoughts down just as extensively and in-depth as I used to do on a regular basis to explain why.
God, it's so fucking good to be back.
Sympathy for the Devil
So, since it's been... god, it really has been half a decade at this point, huh? Since it's been five years since I first watched and blogged about Kimi ni Todoke, here's a quick rundown of my thoughts for the countless among you who weren't around for it: I fucking love this show so much. Not only is it one of the most achingly sweet shoujo rom-coms out there, but the protagonist Sawako Kuronoma so perfectly captures my experience of teenage awkwardness and uncertainty that I swear the author was taking notes from my life. It's a story about growing up on the spectrum, whether it realizes it or not, about the difficulty of communication when you can't grasp the norms everyone else takes for granted. But it's also about how those seeming walls between you and everyone else barely exist at all, and as long as you have the courage to reach out, you'll forge connections wherever you go. It's a feel-good masterpiece the likes of which we so rarely see, and I recommend it to anyone with even a passing interest in anime.
And when I first watched the second season all those years ago, I absolutely hated it.
Okay, to be clear, what I hated was the first half of season 2. I hated the miscommunications, I hated the contrived misunderstandings, I hated how the very fabric of the show seemed to be conspiring to force Kazehaya and Sawako apart. By the time we reached the point where they both confess to each other and yet somehow think the other only means "I like you" as a friend, I wanted to rip my hair out of my skull. Mercifully, the second half won me back by finally letting them get together as a couple and indulge in adorable puppy love awkwardness so mind-numbingly sweet I needed an industrial warehouse full of epi pens to make it through unscathed. And I'm not exaggerating, god the final stretch here is some of the cutest shit I've ever seen. But it was really rough going to reach that point through what felt like the absolute nadir of forced misunderstanding plotlines. Nothing but contrivance after contrivance piled on top of each other to force the couple apart long past the point they should have gotten together for the sake of dragging out the will-they-won't-they as long as it could possibly be milked.
And yet, as I got to re-watching this show in preparation for its shockingly announced third season (my excitement is through the goddamn room), dreading the moment I reached season 2 and would have to suffer through this bullshit again, something truly remarkable happened when I finally reached this point: I didn't hate it.
And then something even more remarkable happened: I started to like it.
And then something truly impossible happened: by the time it was over, I couldn't imagine this show without this arc anymore.
Readers, I have never turned around on a show like this. I've had shows I disliked but softened on as time went by, sure, shows I liked but came to love more and more as they lingered in my mind. But this is the first time I've returned to a story arc I actually hated only to end up loving it by the end. And that's the reason I'm returning to my old in-depth analysis blogging to talk about it. Because there's no way to discuss the 180 I've done on Kimi ni Todoke season 2 without breaking it down in as much detail as humanly possible. I don't just want to write a couple paragraphs and be done with it: I want to memorialize this moment. I want to really, truly express why I came around on this arc and why I think it's so meaningful now. Because there's a real conversation to be had here about the the power of storytelling in general and the power of this story in particular. And for a show that's meant so much to me for so long, I can't think of any other way to do it justice.
So let's dive in. Because good god there's a lot to talk about.
Right on Time
So the first question I want to ask right off the bat is: was I wrong to hate this arc the first time around?
Well, I'm not gonna tell you it's free of contrivance. Kazehaya and Sawako's building misunderstanding requires so many different people to misinterpret so many different things in so many carefully staged situations. Not just the lovebirds themselves, but Kent's ill-informed meddling, Kurumi's intentional sabotage, and especially Chizuru's completely oblivious worsening of Kazehaya's insecurities at a critical moment. And that dual-misinterpreted confession scene is still some buuuuuuuuullshiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. There's a reason this arc gets so much shit from me and others; you can practically taste the hand of the author as it shoves all the pieces around to keep this misunderstanding growing well past the point someone should have realized things were getting out of control and stepped in to clear the air. And when you're as anxious as me for these two dorks to just ask each other out already, it's hard to see this as anything but cheap, forced drama from an author desperately trying to stave off the inevitable.
But here's the thing: what if there's an actual point being made here?
See, this arc is such a frustrating experience your first time through that it kind of shuts down any attempts to analyze it on a deeper level. You're so pissed off at being denied the confession that's dangling right in front of your face that you write off the whole thing as nothing but empty delay tactics. And yet, Kazehaya and Sawako get together literally right after this. If this was just a case of dragging out the will-they-won't-they, this misunderstanding would have lasted much longer and done much more damage. But no! They confess properly, they clear everything up, and they're officially going out mere episodes after you're left fuming at their double misinterpretation of each other's "I like you." So while it feels like nothing more than cheap delay tactics in the moment, a full view of the story's trajectory rejects that theory pretty firmly.
And that's the big thing that changed in this re-watch: I already knew this wasn't going to last. This wasn't going to force them apart forever, it was going to get fixed, I didn't have to worry about this relationship I loved so much getting screwed over by coincidence. And without that worry of endless delays, I was able to do what I couldn't my first time through: actually think about what this arc was trying to say. What was the point being made by this part of the story? What was it trying to communicate about Sawako and Kazeyaha's relationship by putting them through the wringer? Was there, in fact, a reason things needed to play out this way?
And believe it or not, the answer turned out to be yes.
End of the Fairy Tale
Sawako and Kazehaya's relationship starts like something out of a fairy tale. Sawako, the lonely rejected girl who can't connect with people and scares off everyone she tries to get close to. Kazehaya, the ever-cheerful prince who sees her plight and reaches out a hand to pull her into the light. And with his endless support and supportive charm, she's able to find her place in the world with friends who love her and a handsome admirer who will always stand by her side. It's every lonely girl's romantic fantasy brought to life in dazzling colors, fully earned by how human the characters feel and how well-realized their growth is. Small wonder we all got so swept up in it we fully bought into the fantasy ourselves.
But people aren't princes and princesses. We're not perfect fairy tale archetypes. We're people; flawed, imperfect people who make mistakes and don't always see things clearly. And as impatient as I was for Kazehaya and Sawako to just get together already, what re-watching season 2 made me realize is that as of season 1, they were not yet in a place where getting together would be a good idea. Season 2 isn't delaying for the sake of delaying, it's holding up a spotlight to these lovebirds' biggest flaws and pointing out that if they don't find a way to overcome these weaknesses, any relationship they start is doomed to failure. It's pulling the curtain down on the fairy tale and forcing you to realize that this sparkly, shiny portrait of two young lovers actually has some deeply unhealthy undercurrents that would shatter their attempts at a happy life together if left untreated. And all the drama and misunderstandings that spring up as a result of those undercurrents are what force Kazehaya and Sawako to truly confront those issues head-on, move past them, and grow into stronger, more self-assured people who can actually be with each other without messing it all up.
Girl in the Gutter
To start with Sawako, because she's much simpler to understand, her problem is the same problem she's had from the start: a complete lack of confidence in herself. As much progress as she's made, she still sees herself as inferior to the people she loves, someone who has to earn their affection by proving she's worthy of it. A life lived isolated from her peers has left her incapable of seeing herself as part of them; they're all so much smarter and kinder and braver than her. How can she consider herself their equal when they're clearly not? And because of that inferiority complex, she's completely incapable of considering the fact that other people might care about her just as passionately as she cares about them. Not just Kazehaya, but Yano and Yoshida as well. She can't picture a world where the people she loves return that love with no caveats or expectations; how can she, when he doesn't consider herself on equal footing with them?
And in Yoshida's beautiful rant to Sawako in episode 6, we see just how painful it is to be on the opposite end of that self-loathing. Sawako isn't just hurting herself by putting herself down, she's hurting everyone who loves her by implying their love is, in some way, untrue. Imagine how it must feel to care so deeply for someone, to devote so much of yourself to them because they mean the world to you, only for them to assume you can't possibly care that much because they don't deserve it. It's legitimately gut-wrenching. And if Sawako had tried to start a relationship with Kazehaya still under that impression, it would've been a disaster. She would've spent the whole time thinking he was just doing her a favor, being nice and helpful like always, hating herself for forcing him to become someone he didn't want to be just for her sake. And Kazehaya would've spent the whole time hurt and frustrated that she would think so little of the feelings he's cultivated for so long. They would've lasted a couple months at most, and it's a genuine question whether they'd even be able to talk to each other anymore when it was over.
In short, Sawako could never be in a healthy relationship with Kazehaya, or anyone, really, until she finally got it through her thick skull that she is exactly as worthy of love as the people around her. Only after Yoshida's rant does she finally realize how much she's been putting everyone else on a pedestal, that the only one who considers her lesser is, well, herself. Kazehaya is no god, Yano and Yoshida are no angels; they're people exactly the same as her, flaws and fears and wants and all. And there is nothing Sawako can give them that she doesn't deserve back from them in return. Then, at last, she's able to truly accept that Kazehaya might love her just as she loves him- and more importantly, accept that it's okay for someone like her to be a part of his life. Because this glittering boy who seemed to stand so far above her was, in the end, just as normal as her. And if someone as wonderful as him was just an ordinary person like any other... than maybe she could be just as wonderful.
Boy on a Pedestal
And speaking of Kazehaya, something else this re-watch made clear was that I did not understand his character the first time around. I remember being so annoyed my first time through by how much he started waffling on his feelings in season 2 when he seemed to clear-eyed before. You're a sparkly shoujo pretty boy, what business do you have getting all angsty out of nowhere? But going through it again, no, Kazehaya was fully justified in his concerns. His seemingly effortless cheer is just as much a social mask as Kurumi's pretty popular girl shtick; he just does a much better job of turning it on naturally. But underneath that cheery exterior lies a boy who's riddled with sharp edges. He's impulsive, he's quick to anger, he gets jealous easily, and he's got a genuine possessive streak that flares up basically whenever he thinks there's even a chance Sawako might be in the sights of another guy. The boy is as sweet as they come, but there's a real darkness to him that I didn't really pick up on my first time through because that sweetness was so incredibly blinding.
So when they move into their second year classes and Sawako starts forging new connections well outside her comfort zone? Kazehaya feels that darkness gnawing at him stronger than ever, and it scares him. It scares him to think he might lash out and hurt Sawako with the force of his feelings for her. More than that, though, he's scared of the thought that her lack of feelings for him (by his own thoughts) will only make that possibility an eventuality in time. She's making so many friends and finding so many connections beyond him, and as much as he wants to be proud of her, he also feels like he's losing something precious, something that used to be just between him and her. Something that Kent touches on early in the season is that Kazehaya can't leave people alone when he thinks they're in trouble; he swoops in and lends a helping hand because it's the right thing to do. But there's a world of difference between helping someone in trouble and building a life with them. And the more Sawako finds connections outside of him, the more jealous and uncomfortable he becomes... which only makes him all the more concerned that his gestures of kindness were little more than an attempt to bind her to him like a baby chick to its mother.
The fact of the matter is, Kazehaya and Sawako's relationship as of the start of season 2 is incredibly unbalanced. He's essentially been something like a teacher throughout her first awkward high school year as she began to develop her sense of self, and he's been a wonderful guiding light. But because of that, she puts incredible amounts of trust in him... trust that would be painfully easy for a less well-intentioned person to abuse. Sawako thinks so little of herself, and so highly of Kazehaya, that he could probably ask her to do anything and she would do it, no matter what it would mean for her. And because Kazehaya is so aware of his own demons, he's also aware of how easy it would be for his jealousy to spike out of control and hurt her. He's torn between wanting to hold her fast and never let go and wanting her to leave him behind. Wouldn't it be better for her to stop being so dependent on him, to find happiness in a broader community of people? Wouldn't she be happier- safer- if she could carry her happiness as far away from him as possible?
Golden Goose
Of course, the problem with Kazehaya's perspective is that he's making exactly the same false assumption as Sawako; thinking there's no way they'll be able to see eye to eye because he puts her on too high a pedestal. He's so consumed with thoughts of how much he could hurt her that he's incapable of seeing how much good he brings to her life. There's a great moment where Pin calls him out for this kind of selfish thinking; for all his claims of wanting to do the best for her, his own feelings are the only things he's really taking into account. He's so obsessed with his own way of seeing things that he never stopped to consider what Sawako thought of their relationship, never considered that someone as honest and straightforward as her might also have feelings she was too scared to talk about. So while Sawako needed to realize she was just as worthy of love as everyone else, Kazehaya needed to come to terms with the fact that everyone else is just as flawed as him in their own ways. Everyone else has doubts, hidden desires, questions on how to move forward with no easy answers. But just because you can't be sure of everything is no excuse not to try.
On that subject, something else I really came to appreciate on this re-watch is how Kent serves as a foil for Kazehaya. He's essentially the person Kazehaya is afraid of becoming: someone who does good deeds and helps people not out of a genuine love for the people he cares about, but as an ego-boost to fuel his sense of self-importance. Yes, maybe Kent has good intentions, and he certainly did some good for Sawako helping her settle into her new class, but when push came to shove, his sense of self-righteousness won out over his desire to do the right thing, and thanks to his own misinterpretation of Kazehaya's feelings, he meddled in ways that almost drove Sawako and Kazehaya apart for good. He was so convinced his perspective on what was happening was correct that he never stopped to wonder if he was doing more harm than good until he'd almost ruined everything forever. And Kazehaya is so terrified of becoming that kind of person- or the thought that maybe he already is- that he pulls farther and farther away from her rather than try and fix things upright. It's only when he finds the courage to be as honest and straightforward as Sawako, doubts be damned, that he's able to meet her on equal footing, see her clearly for the first time, and embrace the love he was so scared of losing with all his heart.
Hearts Wide Open
And it's that incredible catharsis that officially turned me around on season 2. Seeing that incredible confession scene and all the sugar-bomb adorableness afterwards not as an apology for a season wasted on delay tactics, but the culmination of a genuinely beautiful coming-of-age for both of them, made me realize just how damn important this arc I thought I hated was. Kimi ni Todoke needed to let its characters face their flaws like this. It needed to confront their worst aspects to they could grow beyond them. It's only now that they're truly self-assured people, confident in themselves and each other, that their relationship is able to be so unspeakably, unfathomably delightful. And while there's definitely more than a little narrative railroading to force them into that situation, the payoff is so spectacular than I genuinely don't mind anymore.
So I guess, if you, like me, found yourself groaning throughout Kimi ni Todoke season 2 the first time you watched it, rolling your eyes at the contrivances, yelling at the screen as they kept misunderstanding each other and hating the writers for putting you through such bullshit... give it another look. See it for what it is. I can't promise it'll win you over as fully as it did me, but with the benefit of hindsight, you may just find yourself a new light in what you thought was the darkest corner of the sun.
And with all that said, I'm bumping my season 2 score up from 6.5/10 to:
9/10
God, I'm so fucking happy I decided to rewatch this show. To my old fans, I hope you enjoyed this nostalgic return to form. To my new fans, I hope this was a fun change of pace! If you want to see more writing I've done like this, I've got an enormous backlog of shows I've analyzed like this, so feel free to check them out! And now, let's all wait with fingers crossed that season 3 is just as wonderful as what's come before...
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dnangelic · 3 months
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@kirakiras asked: In her palm sits a little crow figure, rolled omikuji still stuck into its side. And rather than procuring rolled slip of paper to reveal her supposed luck, she stands with quiet gaze on the little bird cradled in her hand. Finger pokes and prods at it with gentle curiosity; as if it were a real live thing some reaction was expected of. She’s a bit obvious that rather than a fortune and a wish she had more interest in procuring the little bird carrying them. She blinks. Turns. Eyes fix on Daisuke as greeting; acknowledgement before scooting in. She leans over to peek at the slip of paper in his hand. “Niwa-san. Did you come for a fortune? Hm, the ‘great’ should already be a given, shouldn’t it?” // just found out fortunes can come with little guys now...
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there's no way he looks as nervous as he feels , right ? watching her stare and poke and prod at the little crow as if it might suddenly spring to life and start fluttering around with dark's voice --- a-ah , no , he'd keep that to just his own imagination .
still , he can't help but wonder just what she's really thinking . everything , nothing ? was it just cute , did she like birds when they were separated from flirty , egotistical perverts , or was even a small part of her somehow reminded of the great phantom thief after all ? he can't bear to ask , no matter how much the curiosity tries to tug at and goad him . just because his own thoughts were almost always ( and quite literally , at that , ) preoccupied by dark's presence , it didn't mean that everyone was uncontrollably influenced and enamored , especially not someone as impenetrable as eto-san .
he's still thinking these sorts of thoughts even as she turns towards him . although he practically jumps a little at the illegible intensity of her stare , he's quick to lift a hand and hastily , awkwardly wave at her . ' ... eto-san ! ' and yet this stiff-shoulder greeting turns into a raise of the omikuji high up ; a phenomenally speedy slide away the instant she draws inwards to snoop . ' --- h-huh ?! what ?! '
wasn't it probably bad luck for someone else to lay eyes on your fortune before you yourself even did ?! besides , if his own paper slip had anything from catastrophically bad luck to half luck written on it , what would he have done ?! it was embarrassing ! he couldn't get his hopes up too high ! not while he was still recovering from the very first year he had tried to turn his luck around !
clutching his fortune , only now seeming to realize just how strange he's been acting --- the most he can do at first is lend her a small , weak chuckle and scratch at his cheek . ' g-great , huh ... maybe for misfortune . '
dark might have argued with him . told him not to act so despondent and hopeless , if not bucking the idea of a new year's fortune in the first place ; tradition and necessity be damned . misfortunes shared by merged identities in the future could still be challenged and overcome , and as for those around them ...
' i ... well , i already have lots of things i'm already thankful for . i told myself i'd get one , um , just 'cause ... ' it was tradition . it was entertaining , even if there was nothing more than the suppressed thrill of a gamble , a cruel hope for a decade-old underdog . ' everyone in my family that wanted one had already gotten one . what about you ? are you ... um , superstitious at all , eto-san ?
it's a spontaneous-seeming question , he's sure , but believing in things like luck and gods was a little different from his own reality of magic , after all . ' everyone already knows the trick to tie your bad fortune someplace , but for me ... ' ah , it's corny , and he can't help but fluster a little as he says it . ' my magic trick is sticking to everyone who's important to me . it's not really my fortune i'm here for , i just ... really wanted to pray for everyone's health . ' and maybe he'd keep the little crow as a token of comfort , too .
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' --- it's kind of cute , right ? ah , i don't know if you've heard it a lot already , eto-san , but ... happy new year ! since you're already here , i'll be sure to pray for your health , too ! '
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stevesharrlngtons · 1 year
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a pretty harsh critique:
ok i have made it clear that i have complicated feelings about djats, but i did enjoy the book overall (a like not a love) but watching the show…. holy shit is it bad. an episode and a half in and it feels so disjointed and so bland it’s a hard watch.
we are just skipping from one plot idea to the next without ANY development or depth of the characters. it feels 100% plot driven, with little thought to its characters at all. yes, the series is just starting, but how is a viewer supposed to want to stick around/tune back in when they feel absolutely nothing for the characters? have no one to root for? feel for? without the book, i would be so lost (even with the book i feel lost) im getting whiplash ok
the acting leaves a LOT to be desired (riley excluded) and the way it’s filmed feels embarrassing. why does it feel like a youtube original where you expect to see a starbucks cup pop up in any shot?? X, The Love Witch and even Once Upon A Time In Hollywood proved that you can shoot a film in the 21st century with the feeling, essence and aesthetics of the 60s/70s to immerse your audience in the decade. but this??? I don’t even have the words to tell you how disappointing it is. and what’s with the CW credit sequence and the “last time in daisy jones and the six” huh????????????
nothing feels subtle, nothing feels like an observation could be made. it is ALL show and no tell. it’s all zooming in on the liquor bottle in billy’s hands, it’s all zooming in on graham as karen walks by and him stammering. they have the ability to use the voice overs and the interviews and they are not using them at all. i almost wish they just cut out that portion completely bc they are failing so spectacularly at it.
i want to give it more of a chance but fuck, i didn’t expect it to be this bad and this disappointing. there was definitely potential there, but it seems to have been almost 100% wasted by amazon prime, the script writers and producers.
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desertfangs · 2 years
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Vamptember Day 13 - Photograph
Prompt: "Photograph" | Armand/Daniel | 1715 Words
Armand and Daniel go back to an old apartment to pick through the boxes before it's demolished. This is 100% self-indulgent fluff.
_______
Armand stood in the hallway of the rundown building. The carpet was torn and moldy and the window at the end of the hall was broken, allowing in the elements. The building had been abandoned, more or less, for years before they’d decided to tear it down. 
Normally, Armand would ignore the notices and simply let whatever had been left in that particular apartment be destroyed. Eternity was too long to hold onto everything and anyway, he hadn’t thought about that particular building in decades. It was simply one of many apartments he’d bought while he lived in Brooklyn with Daniel, a place to store things. He bought them on whims and at random and used only half of them. Daniel had complained about touring apartments for nights on end but he’d enjoyed making up stories for the realtors and exploring different buildings. 
Armand smiled faintly at the memory of it, back when every night had been a new adventure in learning about the modernity of man and the world around them. 
He suddenly reconsidered. Whatever had been left in this apartment was the detritus of another life. There was nothing in there he could need or want. Better to leave it to be crushed with the wrecking ball. Perhaps the Talamasca vultures would come right before the demolition and pick through the contents for anything they thought worthy of their sad little collection. 
He was about to leave when he sensed a presence and turned. 
Daniel stood in the hall looking for all the world like a ghost. For a second, he looked so much like his mortal self from those days that it jarred Armand, though of course he was thinner now, his body ravaged by the alcoholism that had almost killed him, and then renewed by Armand’s blood. His skin was as pale as Armand’s and he stood still, something he’d rarely done when he was human. He wore jeans and a jacket and had his hands in his pockets. 
“Leaving so soon? I thought we had to clear the place out,” Daniel said. 
Armand had not expected him to come. He’d left a message on Daniel’s phone when he’d gotten the notice, mostly on a whim. He’d thought Daniel was in Chicago, or that perhaps he’d gone back to Rio. Daniel rarely kept him abreast of his travels. At any rate, he didn’t think he’d bother to make the trip when he didn’t even answer the call. 
“It’s just junk,” Armand said. 
Daniel shrugged. “Well, I’m here. We might as well take a look.” 
Armand nodded and unlocked the door. It stuck, the wood having swollen in the frame, but he got it open easily enough. The apartment smelled musty and dust motes danced in the air.  
The studio apartment opened into a galley kitchen that led to a giant living area-slash-bedroom. The kitchen was empty, its old yellow stove the only appliance. The countertops were covered in dust. But the main room was full of boxes stacked eight high to the ceiling against every wall. Shorter stacks emanated out, leaving a path in center. 
Daniel came in behind him and whistled. “I guess madness runs in our blood, huh?” 
Armand cut his eyes at him. Daniel often made jokes like that and Armand did not find them funny. “It’s organized.” 
“If you say so,” Daniel said. He walked through the kitchen and pulled a box cutter out of his coat pocket. He went to the first box next to the counter and cut it open. Laughed. Looked over at Armand. He shoved his hand into the box and came out with a fistful of bottle caps. He let them fall back into the box, making little tink, tink noises as they hit each other. “Why the hell did you keep these?” 
Armand had no answer. He’d kept all sorts of things. All of it had felt important at the time, every little bit of Daniel that he could hold onto, back when Daniel was still mortal and Armand was all too aware of the temporary nature of their arrangement. 
Daniel tore into more boxes, pulling out unopened boxes of As Seen on TV gadgets and tools from a hardware store. Then he came to a box of computer disks. He titled the box so Armand could see. “We might want to properly destroy these, just in case.”
“Of course.” He’d filled those disks with writings of all sorts, writings he’d rarely let Daniel read about his thoughts, or sometimes strange little stories that came to him, macabre tales, and dark little poems. 
Daniel brought the box into the kitchen, setting it on the counter. Then he reached over and put his hand on Armand’s shoulder. “You okay?” 
Armand looked him in the eyes, this beautiful boy he’d transformed into a vampire, who’d gone mad and come back, whose mind was now locked against him. That was the cruelest trick of the Dark Gift: that he could no longer read his thoughts. “Fine.” 
Daniel smiled at him. “Good. So how about you help? This will go faster if we both work.” He pulled another box cutter out of his pocket and handed it to Armand. “I was a Boy Scout once. I come prepared.” 
Armand went to the opposite side of the apartment and opened a box that was full of clothes. Mostly denim. He discarded it and opened another. 
“Hey, where are the munchkins?” Daniel asked. 
“At home,” Armand said, shooting Daniel a warning look. 
“Shame. This seems like the sort of thing Benji would love.” 
Armand smiled to himself. Benji would love this but it would come with endless questions, and he’d have stop to explain the contents of every single box. 
Daniel opened another box and laughed again. He pulled out a blender pitcher that still had hardened cement stuck inside it. “This brings back memories. You did some really fucked up things with these.” 
“And Lestat was happy to mock me for it in that book of his.” 
“He wasn’t mocking you,” Daniel said, dropping the blender pitcher back into the box. 
“You don’t need to defend him to me,” Armand said sharply. 
“I’m not defending,” Daniel said. “He was just trying to tell our story.”
“It wasn’t his to tell.” 
Daniel opened his mouth. Then he seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say and went back to work instead. 
Armand stacked a set of opened boxes to one side and pulled out another, slashing it open. Inside were a bunch of sketches and paintings, pieces made by various artists Armand and Daniel had met at parties. He was about to set the box aside when he saw the corner of Polaroid sticking out from beneath some of the papers and pulled it out. He dropped the box and stared at the photo.
In it, Daniel was sitting on the couch in their old apartment. He wore thickly framed glasses, jeans, and an orange polo shirt with a brown and white stripe across the chest, the sort of thing that had been fashionable at the time. He held a cigarette in one hand and was looking directly at the camera, his gaze intense. He was smiling. He looked younger, his cheeks fuller. Armand stared at it. It had been taken been soon after they’d come to New York together. It felt like centuries had past since then, not mere decades. 
He touched the image with a finger, thinking of the young man Daniel had been then. The boy in the photo had no idea what the next years would hold, nor the decades after he was finally given the blood that he so desired. 
At the time, Armand had tried not to let himself think about the future. He’d wanted to live in the moment, to experience everything life had to offer with his mortal companion, and not dwell on the fact that one day it would end.
He turned his gaze to the Daniel in the room with him. He thought he’d known then how it would end. He’d been wrong. 
Daniel must have felt his eyes on him because he looked up curiously. “What’s that?” 
“Just a photograph,” Armand said. 
Daniel crossed the room and stood next to him, so close their shoulders brushed against each other. He grinned. “Man, I look happy there, don’t I?” 
“You didn’t know what you were in for then.” 
Daniel’s smile dimmed. “You make it sound like a bad thing.” He took the photo and studied it before handing it back. 
Armand looked at it again and then glanced up at Daniel, who was watching him with a curious expression. Daniel put his arm around Armand’s back and pulled him into a sideways hug. “You’re in a melancholy mood tonight. Don’t think you think this is kind of fun?” 
“It’s all garbage,” Armand said.
Daniel scoffed. “Sure, but it’s our garbage. We had a good time back then, didn’t we?” 
Armand surveyed the remaining boxes, suddenly uninterested in picking through more of them. “Yes. But we don’t need to rifle through our trash to remember.” He stuck the photograph in his pocket and grabbed Daniel’s arm. “Let’s go back to the house. Louis, Benji, and Sybelle will be happy to see you.” 
Daniel looked dubiously at the stacks of unopened boxes. “If you’re sure.” 
“I am.” Armand tugged on his arm and led Daniel back to the kitchen, where Daniel picked up the box of computer disks and gave one last look around. 
“Do you want to grab the blenders? I bet some of them still work. Benji could have fun with those.” 
“Absolutely not. Imagine the mess.”
“Oh, I don’t have to imagine, Boss. I lived it.” Daniel shook his head, smiling. “We never did manage to get the splatters off the ceiling.” 
Armand smiled back at him and put his hand on Daniel’s cheek, pressing his palm against his cool skin, stroking his face with his thumb. Then he turned, opening the door and ushering Daniel out into the hall. 
Armand left the door open and unlocked. Let whoever wanted to come ransack the remains if they were so inclined. He had everything he needed from that time. 
_____
AO3
I am my own target audience here but sometimes I just need some happy Vampire Daniel/Armand stuff.
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bird-bureau · 11 months
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1, 4, and 8 for dahlia and 4, 5, and 12 for Dante!
Really sending me the absolute winner and loser of the vampire roulette huh
Dahlia:
1. How long have they been a vampire? Were they always this way, or did someone (or something) turn them?
She's an infant by vampire standards! But at almost 50 in human years (having been a vampire for a bit over half of it), she definitely feels old. Her turning had none of the romance of a lover biting her neck -- she was the victim of a hit and run walking home from work late at night, and a vampire witness intervened, pumping her full of the venom that kept her from true death. It's all a blur between that and her first lucid moment after, which was waking up on the slab at the morgue with most of her organs gone.
4. How does being a vampire affect their interactions and relationships with other people?
She's always been a people person, but it's hard to be vivacious in undeath. She spends more time at home than she'd like dealing with the fallout of being a desiccated corpse. However, she's able to maintain normal relationships even with humans not in the know. For one, she was an early adopter of the internet and loves its (vanishing) anonymity. Her greatest asset, though, is that she used to work in film makeup, specifically in special effects makeup. With enough time and resources, she can go full clickbait "doctors hate her" transformation and look pretty much human when she's going out on the town.
8. How do they feel about their condition as a whole?
She is making the most of a difficult situation, but she's not very happy about it. Often, she feels like the things she could have done with a normal life are rotting at her feet. She has all the time she could want and nothing she wants to spend it on. She doesn't want to be, but she's just so angry about it.
Dante:
4. How does being a vampire affect their interactions and relationships with other people?
It was much harder on him earlier in his life. The first few decades, it was nearly impossible for him to continue his career as a doctor -- more than once, he entered a frenzy state and killed patients and family members in attendance, forcing him to flee town and start over. These days, after centuries of practiced restraint, he is able to have a normal life and career and passes well enough for human. He can even spend small amounts of time in the sun. Lucky him.
5. Has their vampirism cost them friends or forged new bonds?
It cost him everything at the start. Friends, family, career. He was basically chased out of town (and then the next town, and the next). Even with other vampires, his conviction to keep returning to his career at the potential cost of lives has lost him several friends. Things go more smoothly for him now that he's less of a hazard.
12. Do they want a cure?
He started research on a cure over a century ago -- he was determined to find the cure for vampirism. The results have been mixed. In researching, he realized that finding "the cure for vampirism" is a bit like looking for "the cure for cancer" -- there are simply too many variants for a one-size-fits-all approach. And after all this time, even if he found a cure, he's not sure he would want it. He's grown fond of his undeath and having all the time in the world to pursue whatever makes him happy.
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writerbri-archive · 2 years
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Hey! You always write amazing whump and angst! ☺️☺️ From the violence/death themed prompts, could you do “Don’t you dare die on me!”?
This is from an actors au that I don’t know if I’ll ever fully write but it’s always in the back of my mind so I might. It’s got its share of mature/dark themes, so hopefully I am delivering on the angst you requested.
TW for drugs and overdosing.
~~~
The first time he comes across Evan Buckley, Eddie is in the latest of a series of guest-starring roles. He has four years on the kid and about one tenth of the experience. Eddie’s start came in the form of an agent stopping him on the street during a visit to Shannon’s family about a year ago while Evan began charming the world in commercials before he could even walk.
Eddie’s role is that of a good samaritan who resuscitates Evan’s overdosing character on the street.
He’s not sure what to expect but it’s not the sight of Evan sitting uncomfortably in the chair that’s emblazoned with his name. It’s one of the perks of being a recurring character, while Eddie pretty much leans on whatever piece of the set won’t give beneath his weight while they block the scene. The experience of being on set has long since lost its novelty, so Eddie’s eyes are naturally drawn to the most unfamiliar thing in his vicinity.
Evan Buckley.
The kid looks like he’s about to come out of his skin at any second, his leg bouncing incessantly and his fingers tapping against his knee in a contradictory rhythm. There’s a discarded script on the floor in front of him, looking like it’s gone through the wringer with wrinkled and torn pages that must have been handled again and again.
He looks at everyone who passes with wide eyes, and it almost seems like he’s bracing himself for someone to announce that he’s in the way. His gaze darts to the outskirts of the set every so often and Eddie wonders if he’s imagining the mix of hurt and disappointment that dulls the shine in his eyes when he looks away.
(One day, Buck will tell him that his parents stopped visiting set when he was eight, but that it took over a decade for him to stop looking.) 
When the director calls for them to get ready, Eddie straightens up and barely has time to notice Evan leaps to his feet in the corner of his eye before someone is tugging at his clothes and making sure there’s not a hair out of place. Before he knows it, Eddie is positioned on his mark and meeting those bright blue eyes that he’s used to seeing through a screen.
“Hi,” Eddie says, trying for casual as the crew angles lights and positions extras all around them.
Evan blinks at him for a second before nodding, a half smile tugging at his lips.
“Hey,” he says, shifting in place and shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
Eddie feels a moment of sympathy for him. If it weren’t for the Hollywood of it all, he’d be convinced that this is just another sixteen-year-old boy. It wasn’t too long ago that he was that same age, and he can’t imaging living under the kind of pressure that weighs on this kid’s shoulders on a daily basis.
“I’m Eddie,” he says.
“I know,” Evan responds, his smile growing into something warmer. “You’re gonna save my life, huh?”
Eddie gives a shrug, happy that the kid looks less like he’s coming apart at the seams.
“I’m gonna do my best.”
~~~
Those words come rushing back years later, as he kneels on cold bathroom tile and prays for the first time since his youth.
Later, Eddie will realize the horrible irony of the situation and how it reflects the first time they met.
But right now, it takes everything he has to keep going beyond the ache in his muscles. He manages to maintain an even rhythm with the compressions, even beyond the tears that sting his eyes and wet his cheeks. He doesn’t know how long he’s been doing it, only that he can’t stop.
“Come on,” Eddie chokes out, pleading and desperate. “Come on, Buck!”
He shouts his name, taking a moment to dig his knuckles into Buck’s sternum. Watching closely for any sign of consciousness and letting out a sob when he sees nothing.
“You can’t fucking do this.”
He presses one hand over the other and keeps going. Even when he feels the rib that breaks beneath his palms, he doesn’t dare stop, ignoring the tinny voice of the 911 operator still trying to get his attention through the phone discarded at his side.
“Don’t you do this,” Eddie says, fixing his eyes on Buck’s too-pale face. “Don’t you dare die on me!”
The paramedics should be there soon, but it may not be soon enough. Eddie knows damn well that he is all that stands between Buck and death, and he’s not about to stop fighting.
“Come on!” he yells, as if it’s going to startle Buck enough to make him start breathing on his own again.
Drawing away, Eddie curls his hand into a fist and beats it again Buck’s chest again and again. He knows that he’s leaving countless bruises, but he doesn’t give a damn. He’ll break every rib in Buck’s chest before he gives up.
“Please,” Eddie all but whimpers, pressing a palm flat over his heart and desperately hoping that it’ll start beating on its own. “Please don’t leave me.”
With all of the strength that he has left, Eddie lands one more blow directly over his heart.
A moment passes.
A rattling breath fills the air.
And Eddie breaks.
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eclipsenoir · 2 years
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May 9. 12:46 AM.
On this day, two decades and a half ago, I’d sprouted from the earth, or I sprung from soil into life. What have you. I’d always been bigger than I should’ve been for my age; born heavy with the chunk to prove it, and wailing with a head full of hair and my tiny fists clenched. Although I wasn’t much of a smiler, I was still a fat, happy baby. My father had told me once, while we flipped through my photo book together, that he thought I might’ve punched him in the face if they’d never stopped my crying after I’d come into the world. I told him that it would’ve been entertaining to see or even witness and he gave me a smile that’d always make his nose scrunch up in a funny way, and pulled at my ear for being so cheeky. I was always cheeky, he told me, and greedy. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being either of those things. But then again, nothing is ever truly certain: as a kid I never thought I’d start smiling for photos, and yet here I am.
Speaking of my father, I’ve taken this entire week off and will be spending it with them, more or less. Apparently my parents have recently been trying to tone down on taking up so much work, especially my mother who’s been more tired lately than she usually was some years back. So I’ll see more of her, thankfully, and we’ll get to play some catch up together and I’ll get to eat more of her home cooked meals than I’ve been having the past year. My grandparents will be coming over for a bit too, so it’ll be some feast. We also need to brush up over my inability to take up a real wife a little bit, this time with my grandmother present–her words, not mine–and I really am dreading having that stupid, helpless conversation again, terribly so. Nothing fruitful every really comes of it save for a few empty promises and my mother’s increased suspicion, likely about either my luck or my sexuality, but I guess I can just continue to bullshit my way out of it until she gives up. Or blows up. I don’t look forward to that either.
Also, on the topic of the women in my life, Sera is here. I was with her last weekend and she’s the bane of my existence and the object of my fury, but I’ve missed her, more than I can stomach to admit and actually tell her. It’s only been a week since, so I feel pathetic for my clinginess. But I feel lonely without her. Very much so, so much so that I feel like I’m stuck in a lethal pool of quicksand called sadness. For that I’m eternally grateful that she’s here, otherwise I don’t know what I would’ve done without her. She’s a sore part of me that I can’t remove. A sort of permanence, concrete in my very existence. Almost vital I’d say, as least as long as we keep coming and going back to each other. Is that bad?
Alas. I’m 26 now. It’s pretty cool that I could make it here and say this today. So it’s a birthday, but is it a happy one? I am incredibly happy I get to see another year, given the phantoms of misfortune that’d always followed me into the new year. I’m happy I have a lot of friends to celebrate it with. Generally happy, though? Sometimes, yeah, fairly. I don’t even remember anymore what it is that would rouse and posses me—what they are, or how it feels to have my feathers ruffled with joy. It just hits me. Like a brutal collision with a truck, which slaps you on bare asphalt and holds you there in the baking of sun. I’m bleeding happiness, and it feels so good. So fucking good. It would keep me awake at night and add a hop or two to my step, sometimes lodge a tune in my throat. I’d hum it everywhere, and think No wonder people become so addicted to this shit. Serotonin is a hell of a drug, huh.
But happiness isn’t meant to be a stagnant emotion after all, so when it ebbs away and I’m left as an empty carcass in comparison to its abundance, I think that’s fair enough. If I were allowed to keep it for too long, I’d just start to itch for another emotion after all. Anyway, I’m grateful. Eternally. Another birthday spent with the people I love most dearly is another birthday to remember, says I.
Happiest halfway to 30 and a day full of champagne and mum’s seaweed soup and cake. And dad’s tipsy blabbering about his current hyper-fixations and my fashion choices (what would the old man know?), and my siblings and Sera, giving me an earth splitting headache as per usual. May it be a really good one!
— T.
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uroborosymphony · 2 years
Text
The Red Line.
may, friday 6th. 6:45pm. Kabukicho, Tokyo.
Chasing chimeras, chasing ghosts. The shadows of my past are whispering to my ear, lulling me to sleep. And i dream of fires, I dream of wars, I dream of glory and salvation. For the persecutors to be banished to the limbos, as, us, soldiers and martyres embrace ascencion.   The words, the thoughts - I have desperately tried to scream them yet my prayers have found no listeners. My reality is an infernal loop i am falling into, constantly, repetitively. The snake that eats its own tail. My curse. Searching and searching, running and running, only to go back to square one. And the blood of my own scales dripping out of my fangs as i chew my own flesh out of insanity. I have been telling my story, over and over, until my mind has lost iteself. Ten years later, the closed ears to my tales have remained sealed. The people, they look at me, patronize me like i suffer from delirious dementia, refusing to believe that, i, Lana, was once Cho Ilana, the rightful heiress, destined to a bright future. A mythomaniac, a maniac, that’s the pretty box they like to push me into.
I’m breaking the cycle.
It has been over a month now, that i’m aware the Yakuzas are tied to the tragedy of me and my family. They have been opening new clubs in Seoul and sending henchmen around, intimidation, dissuasion, to win back the underground scene in the city. A mess that is a gold mine to me, an opportunity, a window. One of the victims of these waves of violence managed to get a clue, a single one, a golden one out of one of the henchmen’s pockets : a visit card.
The half destroyed, dry alcohol tainted piece of paper is now stuck between my fingers as i’m toying with it, the sharpness of my black painted nails scratching against it. The visit card lead me to a place called The Red Line, here in Tokyo, Kabukicho. My fingertips are then bringing my cigarette to my lips as I am taking a long drag on it. Inhaling. Exhaling. My entire muscles relaxing from the nicotine kick and relief. My eyes aren’t leaving the building in front of me. I’m standing in front of it, The Red Line, it’s across the street, the cars are running in between me and the closed doors of this hidden empire. The agitation of the streets, the colors of the sky turning to the night are diluting in this atmosphere of frozen contemplation. I can smell the corruption, the decadence, a place that lives off all the sins the human soul can feast on. The booze, the dirty money, the deals, the girls : the usual. It is not my first rodeo in the area, i know what a poisoned eden looks like, and i, as a snake, knows how to hide in the holy trees of it.
“You gonna work here?” Asks a voice near me. “Never seen you before. Boss says a new girl is coming.” A woman, around my age, lighting her own cigarette, resting her lower back against the wall the same way i did. My eyes scan her, every single piece of exposed flesh she has in this tiny dress and these vulgar high heels.
“Do I look like an escort to you?” I answer to the woman, dry and cold. She let out a choked laughter. The type that’s a little playful, a little offended. 
“You look expensive in that lady suit of yours. Like the Boss favorite, the one he’s fucking and gets all the good tables on day one.” She answers with that same sass she doesn’t let go off, yet laced with a certain envy.
I laugh, actually. I was not expecting that answer. I can tell she’s a foreigner by the attitude, the behaviour, the way she shapes her sentences, but not entirely, a hafu  ハーフ . She almost has an accent. She knows I have one too. Despite how perfectly literate my japanese is, my korean tone is heavy on the end of my lines, I do know that. 
“I’m a singer. I heard they are looking for someone to fill the stage on fridays.” I answer, the smoke of my cigarette escaping from my nostrils as i keep my lips pinched after my words. 
“A singer huh?” The other woman asks in a rhetorical way. “Fancy.”
There is silence then. A comfortable one. As my mind is dancing through mirages of the past and future.  A name. A lead. A clan. Is what i am looking from in this place. Whoever owns the Red Line is connected to the mayhem the japanese henchmen are causing in Seoul, and I hope, connected to any single deal that has been conducted between the two countries. The woman by my side must be finding reassurance in my presence, I’m a foreigner girl, staring at the doors of a closed place, just like her. She is one of the escorts i can tell, she dresses like someone who once wanted to be more but ended up here : in designer but tacky. Many souls get lost in big city hoping to find something they never get their hands on. Success. Reputation. Money. Love. Marriage. The capitalistic version of happiness.  She has bruises. The type that she managed to hide with make-up. But instead of masking it with the same foundation color by just spreading it all over her skin, it’s applied in a smart, cautious way. A sutble blend of different tones to hide the black and reds under any single angle you could possibly look at her at. Around her neck, around her wrists, on her temple under her dark hair. Anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but i did. I know what an abused woman looks like, speaks like, especially one who’s so skilled at hidding the damage, it shows it’s not a first. Who did this to her? Perhaps the men she takes care of at the Red Line, perhaps one that treats her like he owns her a little too hard. 
“Who runs the place.” I question, the depth of my voice breaking the soothe of the silence. My fingers are reaching for my trench coat pocket as i pull out some cash i hand to her. She looks at me, with that look, the ‘Cunt’, ‘What a bitch’, ‘Who do you think you are’, eyes. She thinks of me as condescendant, superior. I know. Her hand reaches for the money anyways and she shoves it down her bra.  I’m asking the question to a woman who has nothing to lose. She is at the bottom of the social scale, just like I once was at my lowest.
“The Mishima clan.” She speaks, finishing her sentence with a shrug, taking another hit on the cigarette, chasing the smoke out of her unpainted lips. “Pfft. I would have told you that without the money. It’s no secret. They own all the places here like.” She answers with that tone of hers.
“I know. But we are going to work together. I just want you to know what I can do. Money? I can have as much as I need. Answers? I get them. Freedom? It’s just a matter of time.” 
Her eyes remain on me, pensive. The amount of girls working out of despair or against their will in an area like this one have nothing to lose, everything to gain. I am an outsider for now, she is an insider. If i can represent the slightest piece of support, she can help me out, as long as i’m not a threat nor a walking ticking bomb that could make things worse for her - I am both, for now. I crush the butt of the cigarette against the concrete of the wall. 
The Mishima-clan. The name echoes inside my head as the wind is getting colder and the sky, darker, the motion of my heels down the tarmac carrying me through the streets once again, my hands down my pocket. The Mishimas, owner of the Red Line, perhaps a main character in this enigma i’m trying to solve. I will apply as a singer to the this club. Like that, I will make my way back on the japanese scene. 
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kicksaddictny · 3 months
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Tiger Woods and Nike are done!
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According to CNN
Tiger Woods has broken up with Nike after a protracted 27-year collaboration with the world’s largest sportwear company, the golf legend announced on Monday.
“Over 27 years ago, I was fortunate to start a partnership with one of the most iconic brands in the world,” Woods wrote on X.
Woods went on to write that “there will certainly be another chapter.”
Nike bid adieu to Woods on Instagram, saying “it was a hell of a round, Tiger.”
“Tiger, you challenged your competition, stereotypes, conventions, the old school way of thinking. You challenged the entire institution of golf. You challenged us. And most of all, yourself. And for that challenge we’re grateful,” the company added.
Popular Swiss sneaker brand ON Running’s CEO Marc Maurer, addressing speculation following Woods departure at Nike, told an audience at the ICR retailing Conference on Monday that Woods was not signing with the brand.
“We hope he finds a great new partner. It’s not going to be us,” Maurer told the gathering.
Nike has almost been synonymous with Woods, from when he first went pro in 1996 to his Masters win in 2019, his first major tournament win in 11 years. Even though a sex scandal drove sponsors such as Gatorade, AT&T and Accenture away from Woods – losing him an estimated $20 million – his relationship with Nike stayed intact.
In 1996, Nike launched the iconic “Hello World” commercial, based on Woods’ professional debut at the Greater Milwaukee Open, where he began the press conference with, “I guess, hello world, huh?”
Woods signed a five-year endorsement contract with Nike in 2000. It was worth an estimated $85 million, making it the richest endorsement contract in sports history at the time.
At one point, Woods’ Nike deal was reported to be worth as much as $20 million a year, CNN previously reported. Woods signed multiple deals with the company over a span of nearly three decades, including a 10-year deal signed in 2013 that’s worth about $200 million. But in 2019, his deal was worth about half of that amount annually, Bob Dorfman, an endorsement expert and executive creative director at Baker Street Advertising, said at the time.
Woods is still one of the best known athletes in the country, three times better known by the general public than the average athlete, according to surveys by Q Score.
And while positive opinions of him are down from his heyday among the general public, sports fans still have a more positive view of him than the average athlete, according to the Q Score surveys.
“Why is Nike separating from Woods who has been a long-time brand ambassador for the brand? It could be that Nike is looking to get out of the golf business,” said Eric Smallwood, president of Apex Marketing Group, a sports and entertainment firm that evaluates sponsorships and advertising campaigns.
“Nike used to sell golf balls and clubs with its logo and that ended. It still sells golf clothing and footwear,” he said.
Smallwood said he would be surprised if the breakup was due to any concern that Woods was nearing the end of his career.
“Woods is synonymous with golf. Nike has stuck with him through his life trials and his comebacks,” he said. “Woods can play as long as he wants to in the PGA and then the Senior PGA. Look how long Nike has held on to Michael Jordan. He hasn’t played in over 20 years.”
In August, Woods was named the sixth player director on the powerful PGA Tour policy board, giving players a one seat advantage on the board after the controversial merger between the PGA Tour and Saudi-backed LIV golf. Woods had reportedly turned down nearly $1 billion to play in LIV golf.
Joshua Butler, founder of online golf clothing brand J. Butler Golf, called Woods a savvy business person “who understands that the landscape of golf is changing.”
“Nike has been pulling away from golf products. Tiger has vast opportunity to land somewhere else,” said Butler. “Golf clothing companies are coming into the market with other options, better options and varied price points.”
“It’s not that Nike has done anything wrong, it’s not that Tiger Woods may not necessarily be happy with his relationship with Nike for the last 27 years, but this is a golden opportunity to go after a younger crowd, to go after individuals who aren’t rich that want to play the game,” he said. “Tiger understands that, the importance of what he’s meant to the golf industry as well as to people of color. That’s why I think this is such as monumental shift right now.”
–CNN’s Chris Isidore, Robert Ilich and Wayne Sterling contributed to this story
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kleinstar · 7 months
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💎 - to try to steal something from your muse (food)
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misc action memes (NOT ACCEPTING)
to try to steal something from your muse .
" What's hot and comes in pairs? "
Yuuji glances back to Eiden from the fridge. Back to his little brother Eiden's sitting at the kitchen table filling what seems to be a crossword.
" Isn't it boobs? "
" What. No? I don't think so...? " Eiden answers turning away to count the boxes, " the letters aren't right.... "
" Eh? But then what could it be?I don't know. "
Yuuji dives onto the fridge, stopping to stare at certain yellow gelatinous dessert with caramel on the top. After a moment of silence mostly filled with Eiden grumbling with the crossword he grabs it.
" Why are you filling that thing anyway? "
Yuuji walks over with the pudding, sitting opposite to Eiden.
" Isn't that like old people thing? " he continues as he peels the lid off.
Eiden rises his look from the crossword with a little disgruntled look.
" If we all followed stereotypes world and me both would look totally different! " he then says expression soon softening after, " but um. This one says we can win a free shopping trip! "
" Whoa for real?! "
" Well, not so lame anymore is it? " Eiden laughs flashing the usual smile, " I've been wanting to get some of those really expensive pudd--- "
Sentence dies midway as Eiden's eyes finally get a glimpse of what Yuuji's eating.
" You.... "
" Are you ok big bro? You're looking like somebody stole your tre----OH. "
Yuuji freezes as he realizes, he'd just got kind of gotten around eating them without asking. Fully expecting one of those not-really-harsh-at-all-whacks from his big brother he closes his eyes but somehow it never comes. Instead he can feel Eiden's steps turning to the fridge. As he opens his eyes Eiden's there with a certain bagel, in fancy wrappings and all... Specialty from local shop, very expensive and very delicious as far as he knows.
" Wait you can't--- "
" I think I've been pretty lenient y'know?! For several months! I really wanted to eat that today-- "
" Look there's still half left but listen big bro that's not, it's special one only sold today and--- "
" Well, then I'll just eat half of this!!! "
He reaches for a big, big bite - and truly it's delicious, almost decadent with the sauces and clearly fresh meat, bellpeppers, lettuce and some sort of decently vinegar-y hot sauce flowing within all that.
" ---it's not mine. "
It's Eiden's turn to freeze.
" Come again? "
" It's not mine..... "
Silence fall over the Itadori Household.
" ... is it good though? "
" ...huh? Oh yeah I mean you can taste here--- wait no you can't eat the whole thing....!"
And like this they share a dramatic moment of bonding over the eventual face of consequences.
Yuuji finishes the bagel, cleaning every last bite and then puts his hand over his big brothers shoulder.
" This way you don't have to be alone..."
Eiden's eyes turn into dramatic waterfalls.
" Big bro..."
" Little bro..."
And like that they share an embrace, forgetting about the eventual consequences for sometime until its in front of then.
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