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bluethude · 2 years

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Some thoughts about Sovieshu

Requested : No

Character : Sovieshu (with Navier and Rashta and a mention of Heinrey)

Summary : Just me sharing what I think about Sovieshu’s character and breaking down a few stuff about him.

I did one for Rashta (way shorter), so why not on her now husband, Sovieshu

Word count : 1989 words

Warning : Mention of abuse and abusive patterns I guess ? ✨Let's go ! ✨

Okay so Sovieshu. I have a deep dislike for him and his attitude as do most of the community. Nobody is denying Sovieshu is a crappy human being and I’m not gonna defend him. Of course, I’m gonna explain and breakdown some stuff I think about his character, but don’t think I defend him. Far from it. I think he should really take a chill pill and leave Navier alone for once and for all.

But then, he wasn’t really dislikable at first, at least to me. Well, he and Navier were cold toward each other, when the story begins. But since we didn’t know much about him and his interactions prior to the story, we couldn’t tell how he was. And even at the beginning, I wasn’t really thinking he was a bad one. I was just thinking he’s cold by nature.

The prologue even makes him look like he’s the one who got manipulated by Rashta and in the few first chapters, I genuinely thought he was just attentive to Rashta because she was in more need given she just got injured and all and she just took advantage of him. And I thought he was mad at Navier because she questioned something good he did which can be pretty upsetting.

And then, he started his actual crap and I quickly changed my mind. This man is… a tragically infuriating character but also quite sad.

And when I read about him, I just think of one word : Control.

And that’s why things go so horribly for him. Well, people who say he’s an abuser are right. Control is one of the abusive patterns. And I get sad to think he started off as a good kid as seen in Navier’s flashback. While I don’t give much credit to Navier's thoughts on him due to the fact she's been biased by their common life since childhood, she confirms something about him.

He doesn’t take the others’ perspectives in consideration. And that’s why his control slips up since the start of the story. I think, at the core, he’s a good person. At least, I genuinely think he was. But his role as the Emperor affected him to the point of no return. As the Emperor, he controls everything and everybody. Like Navier, his role is heavily tied to his personality. But unlike Navier, he got morally “corrupted” by it and this is why he treats Navier and Rashta this horribly.

In Navier’s case, it’s because Navier is the only person he can’t control. She doesn’t let go of things and she does what she has to, even if it’s to fight with Sovieshu. He sees her as a pawn, but she sees him as an equal and is not afraid to remind him that she’s supposed to be his equal, not a puppet.

With Navier, he showed us that when he can’t control someone, he will put this person in a position where they can’t refuse to do another way that his. Like when he used Navier’s seal to send a gift to Rashta and forced Navier to plan the party for Rashta’s pregnancy. As we all know, it’s an attempt to make Navier accept Rashta and the baby, but it’s way more than that. Let me break down these events.

For the use of the seal, it’s simple, actually. As said, the etiquette says that the Empress has to send a gift to the mistress in a sign that she accepts the new mistress in the imperial household. But Navier didn’t, as she didn’t want to recognise Rashta as welcome. To do things his way, Sovieshut took her seal and sent Rashta a gift. This, my friends, is how you control someone’s image. By doing so, Sovieshu made sure that Rashta felt welcome. But he also made sure that the high-society sees Rashta as welcome, since the Empress supposedly saw her as such. No matter how much Navier says she didn’t, well, people would think she’s lying or something, since Rashta did receive something with the Empress’ seal.

But, unlike the party, this small event can be explained as a misunderstanding on Rashta’s side. It can be easily said that since she has no knowledge, she was told this custom before incorrectly read the imperial seal and mixed up.

For the party, this is a total insult to Navier's position as the Empress but also as a person. Let’s be real, I think Sovieshu could’ve totally planned the party himself. Not like he’s super busy. After all, a leader of a country is supposed to make sure the government is doing its job, and if the government is failing, the leader can dissolve it to put a new one in charge. And he also finds time to fool around with Rashta so... He could’ve made it.

But he forced it on Navier. Why ?

As said in the story, to make her accept the baby. But also to make her admit in a public way that she accepts the baby and Rashta. One stone to kill two birds, even if it’s a three birds one. Navier plans the party, and since she planned it, it makes her the host of it. And etiquette (again), would require her presence at this party despite what she thinks, since she’s the host. And once she’s there, she’s forced by her role as the Empress to bless the baby. He manipulated the etiquette to take advantage of Navier who was in a situation he created. And she defended herself with the “blessing”. Of course, her fake blessing didn’t pass unnoticed by the noble society.

But nobles are a minority. They were at the party, they could relay what was Navier’s blessing to each other and they know Navier doesn’t think good of Rashta and the baby. But not the commoners, who would think Rashta and the baby are fully accepted by the Empress since they won’t have the right information, not counting on the newspapers against the imperial family who could praise Rashta for having made the cold Empress bow to her whim. Sovieshu didn’t aim to make the nobles accept his mistress, since he knows they won’t. He targets the commoners, as it’s the majority of the population. And when the majority thinks one thing, it’s hard to go against it.

He controlled her public image and she was basically trapped. Until he divorced her. That’s when Navier totally got out of the control he had on her. And like the classical abuser, when the victim gets out of control, he loses his cool and would do anything to get her back. And that’s why he hates Heinrey. Because he’s the one who made Navier free from the control Sovieshu had on her until then. The horrible thing is Navier acknowledges herself that if Heinrey wouldn’t have been there, she doesn’t know what she would’ve done as the divorce was the final humiliation. But he was there, and it was her way out of the mess she was in due to Sovieshu’s actions and treatment. Honestly, if Navier was the odd number in an equation, Heiney was the random factor who disrupted everything Sovieshu calculated.

In Rashta’s case... It is a bit sadder I think. He said it himself, he likes Rashta because she reminds him of the young and naive Navier. He took her in just because she was the reminder of what Navier was. Another classic thing for abuser, it’s to always remind the version of you they had control over. Or on which version he could’ve got some control over, in this case. So... Yes, he took Rashta in because he knew she would be easy to control. After all, she’s naive, she’s uneducated and ignorant on how things work. She needs guidance. It makes her dependant on someone, as she has no tool to survive. And this someone is Sovieshu. Deep down, he wants Navier to rely and be dependant on him. But she didn’t because she can’t, as the Emperor and the Empress is a balance who needs to work in harmony. And he took Rashta to project his wish, as we see it multiple time, when he thinks of it or when he regrets it’s not Navier who’s pregnant.

But then, why obsess so much on having a legitimate kid and to be so protective of Rashta and be this against Navier ?

Well. As I said, the ruler’s (royal or imperial) role is to make sure the government does its job. The ruler reigns but doesn’t rule. Of course they can do things but they act more as a symbol and the country’s face and approve or not to the gouvernement decision, as the two entities work in harmony. But the second role of the ruler is to make sure there’s at least one heir to the throne, the other heirs would be dukes and all, as dukes is the highest position after the royal/imperial family (I’m assuming it’s a European influenced story given the settings). If there’s no heir, well, the most powerful and liked noble family will take the throne and become the new imperial/royal house, but it would cost a lot in terms of stability and prosperity to the country and it is usually the sign of the country being at its lowest. Which might happen given how the story is about to be played out.

And I also said that Sovieshu got “corrupted” by his status as Emperor. His role is just make sure things work and give a heir. But he didn’t after all those years and it is a failure as an Emperor. But then, with his point of view on the cookie incident, he thinks it’s Navier the one who fails to be a decent ruler. And I assume that’s why he’s cold towards her. Because he thinks she failed him and the country. After all, he thinks that she’s the one infertile since Rashta is pregnant. In his mind, Rashta did the job Navier was unable to do. And he’s so protective of Rashta because the child she’s carrying might be the only heir he will ever get, the only chance he has to succeed as an Emperor. So yes, he has to protect his heir and succession no matter what, even if it means to break Navier to get her to accept the baby. He doesn’t understand that Navier is not agreeing because he doesn’t get why she refuses despite failing at one of her obligations. Because he only thinks as an Emperor.

But then, he’s the one failing to be a human. He’s the one failing to be a husband and a good person. Because he got shaped by the position of the Emperor he fails to communicate with who was his wife because everything can be boiled down to control and having the upper hand. And talking about the cookies incident or the current problems with Navier would be admitting he’s not this much in control to the only person he can’t control. It would admit that he failed. And an Emperor can’t say he failed.

And I think that’s why people, me included, are mad at him and hate him. Because he forgot that he’s a human. Because he forgot before being an Emperor, he’s a man. He forgot he’s a husband and that Navier is not his pawn but his wife and equal. Everything he has or does is too influenced by his imperial title to be perceived as human. He allowed the institution to crush and re-shape him, unlike Navier who, throught the story do the opposite, she pushes back the imposed institution to be human. It’s easy to forget that he’s human, because he himself forgot about it. He doesn’t take other perspectives into consideration, hurting everyone in the process, because there’s only one way. The Emperor’s way.

#the remarried empress #remarried empress #navier #sovieshu #heinrey #rashta #webtoon #The Blue Thude

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dreamingsushi · 9 months

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See You in My 19 Life - Overall Review

I finally just finished watching the live action of that Webtoon that I loved to pieces. Obviously, my opinion is going to be biased since I read the original story way before it came out as a drama. However, I will try my best to put it into perspective.

Plot

Even though I have some frustrations about the way the drama unraveled differently than the comic, it is a very interesting plot. Ban Ji-eum is a young woman who remembers her past life. After dying too early in her 18th life, she vows to find back her childhood friend/love interest in her next life. She transfers to the hotel he works in and as she reconnects, she’s still very much in love with him and tries to gain his affections, while working through his trauma of seeing her past self die. It’s a beautiful story aside of the romance, because it teaches how to be forgiving towards oneself, even when it’s hard. There’s a lot of growth going on, even for a character that already lived 18th lives to become more mature.

Honestly, I think that if I didn’t read the manhwa, I would have loved the story as it is. I really enjoyed the littles slices of life from Ji-eum’s past life, it was super sweet most of the time. However, I’m very disappointed in how they changed her first life, which is the beginning of everything. I feel like they went to a more fated love route, because us romantic usually never get enough of these, but knowing the real reason she was remembering her past lives in the original story makes this adaptation very… plain. But that’s my opinion. To me, the original version was just that good, that it didn’t need any changes.

Overall, it’s hard for me to rate the plot of this drama, because of my bias. I would say it would be an 8/10 if I didn’t read the Webtoon, but since I read it, it’s more of a 7/10 for. Not excellent, but not so bad either.

Acting

As a disclaimer, I have almost to no knowledge of Korean. So my notes and remarks here are based on feelings solely, as I rely on subtitles to understand what’s going on and I don’t trust them 100%.

Can we talk about Shin Hye Sun? She was wonderful. I really liked how she portrayed Ji-eum. The character was loveable even though it was supposed to be so old. She was really a natural at jumping between each sides of her personality, going back to a moment of her past lives. I liked her quirkyness. I only enjoyed a little less her acting as Su, in her first life, but I think it’s partly because it wasn’t aligned with the original story and it was pretty intense. I think she carried this whole drama by herself and I’m really looking forward to see her again on the screen.

However, I really never could agree with the casting for Seoha. Ahn Bo Hyun is… I don’t know. Too serious. Seoha is a serious character, definitely not the most joyful one since he does have a tormented past. However, I didn’t picture him as tormented as they portrayed him in the drama. And I don’t think the actor did a bad job here, his interpretation was a little bland to me at some point, but it got a little better towards the end. It was just really hard to relate to his characters emotions and I could really feel a wall that shouldn’t have been there.

I always focus on the main leads, however I really liked Ha Yoon Kyung as Chowon, she was little less cute than what I would have imagined, but it fitted really well with the drama and the rest of the casting, so I enjoyed her presence. As for Ahn Dong Goo, they didn’t give him really any opportunity to shine. There wasn’t enough room for development for his character and thus when he could have done a brilliant job, the context made it feel all the way too rushed. Which is a shame.

If it was only for Shin Hye Sun, it would be a 10/10, however I can’t rate this any higher than a 7/10 again, because there were some casting and directing errors that didn’t bring out the best of the actors.

Aesthetic

Visually it was a very pleasant drama to watch. I especially liked the past lives scenes. The ones from her first life were great, with the tinted clothes and everything. There was a lot of symbolism with the glimpses that we could see and that was so great. They kept everything simple and I feel it’s a little harder to comment on the visuals of a somewhat modern day drama, because I’m not really into nowadays clothings, where as when it is a costume drama, there’s so much details that wow me.

However, I really liked the OST of the drama. The songs were really good, especially the kind of sad one. I need to find out what’s the title for it, because that’s the kind of music that I would put on my playlist. Anyways, it was overall very well matched to the events in the drama, so good job.

This gets an 8/10 for me!

Should you watch it?

I would say… if you haven’t read the Webtoon, it’s a very nice drama. It’s cute at moment, but it’s also serious. The plot is quite original and is a nice change of pace if you want to go for something a little unusual. The story is easy to follow, the lead actress is phenomal, it would say you can’t go wrong. If however you did read the Webtoon, just be prepared for disappointment. Because it’s just really not as good once you know everything. I was thrilled to see some scenes from the Webtoon that I really liked, however… I was disappointed in many ways by the ending. It’s a fine ending, it’s jut… not the one I hoped for and what waiting for. So yeah, if you’re looking for a quick watch that is a minimum serious, this is good, but if you need to chose between the comic and the live action, go for the comic.

The whole drama is about a 7/10 for me, if that could help into making your decision. It’s a good watch overall, just not an all time favourite. See you soon!

List of full recaps

All / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12

#see you in my 19th life #shin hye sun #ahn bo hyun #ahn dong goo #ha yoon kyung #kdrama #K-Drama #korean drama #drama review #drama recap #drama recommendation

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lavienbleuuu · 1 year

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Celoteh Malam dari Aldi

“Kebahagiaan bukan berasal dari seberapa besar pencapaiaan Aku, melainkan seberapa rasional harapan Aku.” — Stoic.

Later, while we’re on phone, Aldi said: changing the way you look at something will determine whether it's a problem or not. I have a crowded schedule and an inhuman deadline on my next week. It's not a problem, and it's a gift for me. We will face a recession in the next year, it's not a problem, but an opportunity. Your boss scolded you because you're underperforming. It's not a problem; it's a lesson for you to be better and become the best version of yourself. I can give you a thousand examples, but I'm pretty sure you all get my point.Remember, don't ruin your day because of a stupid thing. You have a dozen things to do rather than overthinking some shit. Every problem indeed has a solution. If it doesn't, it is not a problem. We often sigh in the middle of our process. We know that we don’t like what we are doing now, but we keep doing it. We keep living in circumstances and conditions we don’t want. Is that wrong? No. Not at all. That’s human.“We raise by sacrificing others” — unknown. But based on my short experiences above, I concluded that humans essence is very ironic; we raise ourselves by sacrificing others. We always demand more to grow, although the process sucks. We offer our childhood mentality. We are always biased toward something that becomes our priority; love. We offer things we don’t love, which could be ourselves. We all, indeed, have jealous characters. I think it’s good because envy sacrifice laziness. It makes us motivated. We keep living in the circumstances and conditions we don’t want. We sacrifice ourselves. Indeed, we raise by sacrificing others. You can't achieve your dream without sacrificing your time and energy. The sun can't get set without sacrificing its light. A human can't get their modernity without destroying nature. Ultimately, we indeed have to choose. It is inevitable. Acknowledge this reality. Dahulu Aku seringkali merasa sedih dan tidak bahagia. Tidak bahagia? Mengapa ada “ketidakbahagiaan” di dunia ini? Setelah menggunjingkan Aku beberapa waktu lalu, sepertinya letak kesalahannya bukan pada semesta melainkan pada Aku yang terlalu naif menempatkan indikator kebahagiaan; pencapaian.

“Life is really simple, Ra. But we insist on making it complicated.” Aldi ends up our conversation with a simple yet powerfull quotes from Confucius. And I can't stand to agree. Aldi never dissapoint me whenever it comes to late night talk about Human.

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stargatelov3r · 2 years

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Hmm… Do the actresses really not like each other? I've never heard of that! That is quite sad. 😥 Have you noticed that sometimes people bring up female actresses disliking other actors on set more often than men? (Might just be my own experience.)

😲Those week-long collaborative fics sound so fucking amazing! I actually share that where, despite my own sexuality, I primarily focused on het or platonic ships and didn’t really think about expanding on it until I got involved in another fandom. (Ahhh, childhood XD.)

Now, it took me a while to gather my thoughts on this because on one hand I love the ship (multi-shipping biases and all that.) and on the other, I feel like it just wouldn’t work. I see them working platonically better.

“...what both of them have been through? what shit they experienced working in a men dominated world? and together they can just go "fuck all that" and have a good time and drink wine and feel safe? gimme all of it”

What you said here is why I think they would work better platonically because the friendship they could have is amazing and I think (reasons below) that a more intimate relationship is something they probably wouldn’t explore on their own with each other. I’m trying to think of scenarios but it’s one of those tougher ones for me.

(Elizabeth & Sam totally have shooting the shit while drinking wine vibes XD)

I think I am stuck on the logistics of maintaining their relationship because it would be hard being that far apart from each other. Considering if Elizabeth is still in charge, Sam would have never been transferred.

😲😲OKAY, OKAY! A civilian leader, a military/science leader, and a pegasi native leader FORMING A COUNCIL!!!? I LOVE THAT IDEA! PLEASE WRITE!!! BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE AMAZING!!!! 🧡

But, if they did form that council I cannot see any of them becoming romantically involved with each other, all three of them tend to put others before themselves in the sense that they would be worried about such a relationship affecting their duties toward Atlantis and would probably steer clear of it completely. I especially think this of Elizabeth.

THE FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN THE THREE OF THEM WOULD BE AMAZING THOUGH. (For some reason I'm imagining them together at another friends bachelorette party and Teyla is quite curious about the reasonings behind the phallic nature of said event. She does happily wear the penis hat in solidarity for Earth's customs though. XD)

The arguments between them would be impassioned and if they weren’t so mature minded I could see that getting out of hand.

Hmm… I have a feeling this entire relationship would have to be an AU where they are not involved in the SGC to really make it work.

What scenario do you think would need to happen for them to get together?

Because If they were in the SGC I feel like the relationship would have to be something established before Elizabeth went to Atlantis. And she may even go on a relationship hiatus (like with Simon) despite Sam being involved in the SGC when she does become in charge. (I can’t guarantee that, but it is a strong possibility and Sam may even be behind it considering the logistics.)

If it's too much to talk about this bittersweet ship let me know and I'll move on. 🧡

Hi there! It’s definitely not too much talk about this bittersweet ship that is Sam/Elizabeth! I enjoy reading all your thoughts on it!

Yes, apparently Torri and Amanda don’t really get along. I don’t know the reasons for it and i never asked and i never will and I doubt that they would bring it up.

Anyways, you might have a point there saying that they would work out better platonically, for all the reasons you mentioned. However, i can’t shake the idea of them never finding together, and if it’s just for a while until they realized they work better as friends and they go back to that. I think they are both mature and wise enough to handle that. I like the idea of them supporting each other. But then, i always love seeing women support each other :)

And yeah honestly? I need some sam/elizabeth/teyla running shit together content now…

I actually laughed out loud when i read the part about Teyla proudly wearing a penis hat and i think that this would be one of the moments where Elizabeth would be like “shit, i really love this woman”. Whoops, look at me go bringing teylabeth into this xD

Hmm, would would have to happen for Elizabeth and Sam to get together, that is a very good question honestly.

It probably would have to be in a scenario where they are not directly working together. Like,, Sam is taking a vacation to Atlantis (yes Atlantis becomes a vacation spot for SGC people at some point). Maybe she is taking Cassandra with her and they just happen to be at a time where Elizabeth is also on vacation. Obviously she still works at least half a day but maybe the rest of it she shows them around, shows them the main land, introduces them to the Athosians etc etc. nothing happens at first but after Sam leaves for Earth again they notice that something is changed but they can’t quite figure out what it is… until they meet again, this time it’s the whole “oh shit so THAT’S what i was missing” but they still take ages to get together

Something like that maybe?

Idk. This is a weird ship, a bittersweet ship. I like it, but i haven’t quite understood it yet, if that makes sense.

Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me!

#twotales #sam x elizabeth #samantha carter x elizabeth weir #sga #sg1

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bloatsome · 3 years

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Why R*wling failed to make Lily Evans a Mary Sue:

Moral superiority

Lily was a Gryffindor, and there is enough proof that everyone else thought less of Slytherins. The author has tried to convey that Lily was better than everyone else because she was friends with a Slytherin. However there is more than enough evidence of Lily being friends with Severus because they went way back and there is NO WAY they would be friends if they didn't know each other from their childhood. One, the Gryffindors didn't interact with the Slytherins and two, EVERY DAMN thing Snape did was questioned, and shown to be horrible by Lily. She didn't look at things from his perspective. (More on that later)

Lily also made it seem like she was doing him a favour by giving him her companionship.

She shows disdain towards Snape's likes and dislikes, and doesn't even treat him as a normal person should be treated. It was almost as if her friend was the scum of the earth and she was assigned to look after him for a bit.

Selectively forgiving

Plenty of instances of Lily being biased towards Gryffindor house in general, and the Marauders in specific. She tells Snape she can't ignore the fact that his friends used dark magic on Mary which we are not given context about (it could've been making her tap dance, for all we know). But what we are given context about is the Marauders sexually assaulting Snape. However that is okay with Lily, she even goes as far to smile (and possibly laugh) at it.

Maybe because they didn't use dark magic to choke and pantse Snape, or maybe, as the rest of the school would agree, it doesn't matter because it's a poor, ugly Slytherin.

Hypocritical

Lily says "I don't understand how you could hang around Avery and Mulciber" but befriends the Marauders (who were not just pranksters, they were BULLIES). She tells Snape to ditch his friends, the only people he could talk to without getting hurt, but cannot ditch her own friends to be there for him, implying a hypocritical and as mentioned, seemingly superior nature.

Not compassionate

Contrary to what is usually said about Lily:

"Your mother was not only a singularly gifted witch, but also an uncommonly kind person. She saw the best in everyone, even when they didn't see it in themselves"

Lupin's famous quote about Lily holds true, but only in HIS case.

Lily did not see the best in Severus. She was always telling him he was obsessed with the Marauders and he should be thankful James saved his life, after putting him in peril. She said he can't make her think otherwise (because she was always in the right, wasn't she?) and was mad at him when he said he wouldn't just leave it at Potter's version of the story. She deliberately ignores Severus' pain and worry.

Also the SWM incident. If Lily was really a badass queen who wouldn't stand for discrimination of any sort, then, after Snape called her a mudblood, Lily would NOT have retaliated with a low blow comment about his underwear, shaming his lower class status.

Not really intelligent

I'm not saying Lily was stupid, it's just that her intelligence is overblown in the series. We have several points that can lead us to believe this.

She was supposed to be a potions prodigy. However we know the text book was horse shit and you couldn't properly prepare a potion without diverging from the text. (As shown in HBP) Lily, like Hermione in HBP, couldn't have come too close to perfecting a potion practically, while she might be good at theory.

Maybe I could take her intelligence more seriously if it were in another subject.

Then about her non-academic intelligence, her street smarts, we see that Lily does not find out about James regularly hexing Snape, despite her having many friends and well, the gift of sight. Either she chose to be blissfully ignorant or she really did have no clue what went on around her.

She can't stay friends with someone who called her an offensive term, but can marry a guy who threatened to hex her? (Magical equivalent of hit) Not the smartest move.

Egoistic

Lily knew Severus respected her and held her on a pedestal. She didn't leave his side. James Potter, on the other hand, threatened to hex her and didn't treat her as she (or anyone, really) would want to be treated.

We see that Lily knows Snape's friends (and possibly Snape himself) call people of her birth "mudblood". She still doesn't leave. However, she does leave at a particular point, and that point is when Snape calls her a mudblood.

She befriends the Marauders soon after, as they treat her well enough now that the threat (her friend, Severus) is out of the way.

Superficial OR too deep

Why would Lily Evans, the "nice girl" agree to go out with the school bully? Two possibilities:

1. She thinks it doesn't really matter as he's treated her alright after the SWM incident. He's a popular Gryffindor guy, plays Quidditch, doesn't look bad either, stuff dreams are made of etc etc.

2. She thinks she can "change" him, what every teen girl thinks when you meet a bad boy type, shown in the lines "after he deflated his head a little bit".

Oh my god!! He did it for me! I'm gonna make him a better person and give him all my love.

Honey, spare us the swooning and realize people don't change because you agree to go to Hogsmead with them. But you wanna get pregnant with his child at 19/20? Oh okay then.

Straight up mean

This point only holds true if my one of my earlier ones about her low EQ and street smarts do not.

Lily Evans had an inkling to what went around in the Snape household, but couldn't conjure up enough compassion to be empathetic.

She thinks she can't trust Snape on his word about the werewolf incident when that's what friends do. Why? Because Slytherin = bad.

I don't blame her for leaving Snape friendless after he called her a mudblood (frustrated and humiliated as he was, it was wrong of him) but atleast she could have stopped herself from insulting him BACK. And then, idk, dating his bully maybe? Who threatened to HEX you miss?

It's never made sense to me to be badgered a person till you say yes and then actually falling in love with them.

What does make sense to me is that Lily Evans said yes to James Potter to get back at her former friend. And then fell in love.

All in all, Lily is not only a horrible "friend", but also a uncompelling character to me.

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taexual · 3 years

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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (21)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst but it’s for a good cause

words: 7.7k

chapter twenty-one

The next week was, as expected, full of frustrating epiphanies each time you checked your phone and realized you had no business waiting for anyone’s call or text. Not to mention, Inna’s hopeful eyes followed you whenever you were in the same room as her; she was eagerly awaiting the moment you and Jungkook would make up.

You hadn’t heard a word from him since the last party and his family hadn’t reached out to you, either. You couldn’t help but wonder how the dinner on Sunday had gone, and what excuse Jungkook used to explain your absence – he’d have to come up with a good one because you didn’t think the chances of you two talking again were very high.

In fact, you thought they were non-existent. He’d walked away from you for the second time in just one lifetime – you didn’t think it was supposed to be you who had to take the initiative and get to the bottom of things. And Jungkook would, most likely, have too much pride to offer an explanation.

So, no, you didn’t think you’d hear from him again soon. Not in the next seven years, at least.

However, life had a funny way of throwing your expectations out of the window – as you came to learn as soon as you left your final class the next Wednesday afternoon, five days after you’d last seen Jungkook, and spotted his mother looking at you expectantly from the end of the hall.

She waved at you as soon as you caught her eye and, walking over to her, you weren’t sure what to expect – her face was the perfect mask of polite indifference, so you couldn’t guess if she was here because something terrible had happened to Jungkook, or because she was getting remarried and wanted you to be her bridesmaid.

“You look lovely, dear,” was the first thing she told you when you approached her. That was enough for you to understand that she wasn’t going to be entirely honest today – she never was – because she was here in a designer two-piece, while you were wearing a—stained from an unsuccessful attempt at lunch—gray hoodie and your favorite sweatpants. “Do you have a moment to spare?”

“Sure,” you nodded after giving her a mandatory hug hello. “Would you like to get coffee? There’s a café across the quad.”

“Oh, of course,” she nodded, allowing you to exit the building first. “I’d love that.”

The two of you crossed the campus quadrangle towards the café next to the library and neither of you said a word. You’d hoped Jungkook’s mother would offer an explanation why she was here instead of making you ask her outright – that felt impolite – but that seemed less and less likely with each silent step that you took.

“You can choose a table, I’ll go place the order,” you said once you’d reached the café, “what would you like?”

“Just black coffee, no sugar, please,” she replied and then looked around the place, smiling pleasantly at every weary-eyed student that turned to look when they saw this lady with a very expensive aura come inside. “I think it’d be nice to sit by the window, hmm?”

You gave her a nod of approval and went over to order, choosing to wait by the coffee machine so you could brace yourself for what was coming when you’d join her at your table later.

Once you finally sat down opposite Jungkook’s mother, your caramel macchiato had turned from pale orange to plain white from how much your hands were shaking. His mother thanked you and, leaning forward to purposelessly stir her coffee with a spoon, she cleared her throat.

“Something happened,” she said simply. “Am I wrong?”

You didn’t want to misunderstand her. “What do you mean?”

“Between you and Jungkook,” she clarified. “He said you were busy when he was over for dinner but I could tell that wasn’t it. He looked different.”

You looked away from her to think. You were glad that Jungkook hadn’t missed the dinner even despite you not being there with him. That was a mature decision, you were almost proud of him for it.

“I… I don’t really know what to tell you, to be honest,” you said, watching your coffee and wondering why you even bought it. You didn’t feel like drinking anything. “We got into an argument after his concert last weekend, and we hadn’t talked since.”

She nodded knowingly, without the slightest change in her expression. As if this was a normal thing that she’d expected to happen sooner or later anyway. And, because she was prepared for it, she also knew just how to proceed.

“I’m not supposed to pick sides because, I suppose, I would be biased,” she started to say, giving you a warm smile as she clutched her cup in both hands, “but I have a feeling that you weren’t the one that started the argument. Am I right?”

Inhaling deeply as you shrugged your shoulders, you replied with, “actually, that’s hard to say,” and then you took a long gulp of your coffee, ignoring the burning of your throat as the hot – and unwanted – liquid struggled to make its way down.

Jungkook’s mother watched you drink in silence. She knew you were doing it only because you weren’t comfortable admitting to her that her son had never learned how to handle conflict – and who else was there to blame for that, if not his parents?

Sighing, she finally confessed, “I told myself I wouldn’t mention this to either of you because, well, it’s really none of my business, but I was backstage before Jungkook’s last concert.”

You turned to her. Noticing the confusion in your eyes, she explained, “his father and I came back to the venue early and I had to use the restroom. One of his bandmates showed me where to find the nearest one and, as I was on my way, I saw the two of you.”

Thinking what moment in particular she could have seen, you unconsciously squeezed the porcelain cup in your hands so tightly, the china almost started to crack under your fingertips. Even worse, as soon as you realized what she was getting at, you let go of the cup so quickly, it nearly tumbled off the table, splashing the contents around.

“Oh,” you said, more alarmed by the fact that his mother had seen you force him into a cold shower, than by the fact that your sweatpants were now stained with the caramel from your drink. “I was just—”

“You kicked some sense into him,” she finished for you, nonchalantly handing you a napkin, “in a way that I’d never seen anyone do before. And,” she chuckled in a good-natured way that did not conceal the admiration in her voice, “I’m his mother.”

“That’s…” you stopped yourself, choosing to wait until the warmth on your face receded and you felt less flustered. “You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you said, still not looking at her as you wiped the table, “kids aren’t easy to raise and Jungkook was a-a... a different sort of challenge. You did your best and he loves you for it.”

She was the one who was forced to look away from you this time.

“I thought I was doing my best,” she said. “I… I know it can be hard to understand, but I’d always had his best interest at heart. His and yours. You two were like two pieces of the same set when you were young.”

She smiled despite herself, but when you dared to lift your eyes to meet hers, there was a tear glistening on her face, slowly descending down her cheek. You didn’t know if it was caused by the memory or by something else that she hadn’t said yet.

“It’s…” she tried but couldn’t find the words, “I feel—ah. I don’t know how to tell you this without making you hate me. It’s my fault that you and Jungkook were apart from each other for so long.”

She struggled to keep talking and you struggled to find a way to tell her that you already knew that.

Admittedly, it wouldn’t have been hard to reach out a hand and touch her shoulder, tell her that Jungkook had already told you about this. But, by doing so, you’d have to admit that everything was fine. That you didn’t hold a grudge. That you’d moved on.

And part of it was true – you didn’t hold a grudge. But it wasn’t fine. And you hadn’t moved on.

So, you stayed quiet, letting her continue.

“I thought it was for the best,” she said, “you two, being apart, I mean. I thought it could save you both from the damage your close relationship could do to your futures. But,” shaking her head to herself, she scoffed, “that wasn’t what happened at all, was it?”

“Hmm,” you shook your head slightly, “no, it wasn’t. There was always this gap—t-this empty space in my life. It was kind of like losing a tooth. You can get it replaced, get an implant, but it’s not the same. Even if the hole isn’t there anymore, you’re still missing a tooth.”

Another tear cascaded down her face as she listened to you, only daring to nod her head when you glanced at her – which was once, right before you finished speaking.

She noticed how you didn’t question her or asked her to elaborate; you understood what she was saying.

And she understood that you had already known about this.

“You blossomed,” she said, smiling even though there were tears in her eyes, “but Jungkook never recovered. He needed you. Probably more than you needed him.”

“No. That can’t be,” you disagreed instantly. “I—I need him, too.”

Noticing the present tense, Jungkook’s mother smiled. “Then don’t be apart from each other anymore. You’re not meant to be.”

That was simple. So simple, that it got you to smile in this ironically sad way. But because this could have been one of the last times you’d ever see her – since your future with Jungkook, despite how much you said you needed him, was very unclear – you chose not to mention it.

Instead, you figured now was as good of a time as any to come clean about the real status of your relationship with her son.

“You know…” you started, “when we first came to your house, we weren’t—we weren’t really together. We were just—”

“I know,” she said and, just when you were about to continue, she finished, “that you think so.”

“I—sorry?”

“You think you came for dinner, pretending to be dating so it would leave a good impression on his father,” she explained.

It felt ridiculous to hear her say it when she wasn’t supposed to know about it. Apparently, both of you knew a lot more than you let on.

“T-that’s… yeah. That’s what we did.”

She shook her head. “No, it isn’t. Not really. You came for dinner together.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Sweetheart, no,” she took your hand into hers. “You’d been together from the moment you first talked to each other after all those years. And, every day following that, you were more and more together.”

Feeling the warmth from her hands wash off to yours, you asked in a hushed tone, “why do you say that?”

“Because I’d watched you grow up,” she said, a smile on her otherwise clouded face. “I know you love each other in a different way than most people. You don’t have to go on dates and get to know each other before you get attached and form a connection. You don’t have to spend months with each other to fall in love. It’s already happened. Maybe it happened even before you were born. Maybe it was written in the stars, so to speak.”

She laughed as she said that last part and—because you’d been watching her with such intensity, you didn’t blink once—you felt yourself smile in response.

Then, you asked, “do you really believe that?”

“Ah,” she leaned back in her chair, exhaling. She did seem like the sort of person who believed in the happily-ever-after and she didn’t mind this image. But, because this was nor the place, nor the time for acting, she chose to be honest with you and admitted, “normally, no. But with you two? Yes. Absolutely.”

And that meant a lot more than anything else she’d ever told you when she was busy trying to maintain the look of an untroubled, completely satisfied member of a rich family.

She was human now. And she was rooting for you – she’d always been, even if she didn’t always choose the best ways to express that.

“Do you know what he did during our last dinner?” his mother asked after a moment.

Thinking she was about to tell you that Jungkook knocked his father out, you were afraid for her to continue.

“He renounced his position as the heir to the company,” she said and you saw her tears stop, a smile spreading on her lips instead – like she was proud of him. “I’ve never seen him so determined before. I don’t think his father has, either. I… I think he’s been expecting it, though. Jungkook never expressed much interest in the family business, not unless it meant pleasing his father.”

You were shocked she’d noticed Jungkook’s eagerness to be a good son to his father, but perhaps you shouldn’t have been – she was his mother. She knew him best.

Funnily enough, she thought the exact same thing about you.

“He wants to talk to you,” she said after a while, her hand still holding yours as steam ceased to rise from your cups, the drinks inside of them gradually growing colder.

“Did he tell you that?” you asked, surprised.

“No, but that’s obvious. He’s been antsy throughout our dinner on Sunday,” she spoke, “almost like that gap you’d mentioned before was especially prominent when he was supposed to be with his family, but one member just wasn’t there.”

You felt a quick spark of honor in your chest – they still considered you to be a part of their family – but you lowered your eyes, hoping to hide it.

“What bothers me the most,” you admitted slowly, “is that his method of solving arguments is so unconventional, I can never guess what he’s going to do.”

“What do you want him to do?”

“I want him to—I…” you couldn’t finish.

You didn’t want much, you just wanted to be able to admit to yourself that every time you’d been angry at him since last Friday night, was all pretend. All because you were supposed to be angry. But, the truth was, you weren’t; you were just hurt. And what you wanted most of all was to see him.

“I want to talk to him,” you said. “Because if he’s thinking of spending another seven years not talking to me, then he better give me a direct warning, so that I can tell him I won’t do this again. I won’t go through—if he doesn’t want to be with me, I’m not going to wait for almost a decade for him to change his mind.”

“That was never the case,” his mother said. “He always wanted to be with you even when he wasn’t supposed to.”

“See, but he keeps making these decisions,” you said, “these wrong decisions. He seems like he’s learned to tell right from wrong in all of these years, and yet he still—”

“He’s trying, though, isn’t he?” she interrupted you. “He fails a lot, but he always gets back up and tries again. I love him with all of my heart, but I hated to see some of the situations he’s gotten himself into over the years. He’d had to make a lot of choices for his future and he made a lot of wrong ones. I used to think that, maybe, the only right decision he’d made, was choosing to give you some space to grow seven years ago—”

“No,” you stated immediately, your voice firm and unwavering for the first time today. “The only right decision he made was talking to me again after seven years.”

His mother’s eyes watched the expression on your face change from hopeless defeat to assured confidence, and she finally let go of your hand, but not before you saw the hairs on her skin stand up as she shivered.

“You’re right,” she spoke, her voice in awe over how quickly you defended Jungkook even though, at the end of the day, you and her both knew you needed that space. You needed some time away from him.

She had come here with the intention of getting you to give her son another chance – because, God knew, Jungkook was taking his sweet time asking for it himself – but she could see now that her visit was largely pointless.

She didn’t need to ask you to fight for your relationship with Jungkook – you’d been fighting for it from day one.

“Talk to him, okay?” she asked, even though she knew this wasn’t going to be the end of your story. It couldn’t be. “As his mother, I even give you the permission to kick his ass if he won’t reach out to you first.”

You snickered at this and then looked at her as you spoke, “I’ve really missed having conversations like these with you. Not about Jungkook—I meant, over coffee, when it’s just us two.”

“I’ve missed that, too,” she replied, responding to your warm words by allowing an uncharacteristically big smile to appear on her face, “but we’ll have plenty of those in the future,” she added, “because we just got you back and we’re not letting you go.”

The next day, you were almost afraid to run into Jungkook because a conversation with him seemed inevitable, and you didn’t think you were ready for it.

The universe – that is, your class schedule – cared little whether you were prepared or not, however.

As soon as you were done with your last class of the day, you cautiously turned your head to Jungkook’s usual spot—across the auditorium from you—and found him already watching you.

The two of you eyed each other in an almost formal way – the way you would look at your professor as you approached her to inquire about a paper that was due – and then you both got up, packed your things, and, exchanging a yet another meaningful look, you both headed for the exit of the building, every single movement of your bodies completely in sync even though you hadn’t spoken a word to each other.

There was a mute agreement between you and him: you haven’t seen each other since the party last week, but now that you have, you simply had to talk again. Those were the rules for people like you – people who’d spent nearly a decade avoiding all conversation with each other, and had promised they would never go through that again.

You figured the first thing you’d say to each other after last week would be “sorry” but, as it turned out, your first words were your coffee orders as the two of you had automatically left the building to head to the campus café.

“I know my mom came to see you,” Jungkook broke the uncomfortable silence when you found an empty table at the back of the café. “Sorry if… she made you uncomfortable. I didn’t ask her to come, I swear.”

He didn’t start to speak because he had a lot to say. He started because, even though you came here with him naturally, without a single word, he knew you hadn’t come here just for a cup of coffee. You’d come to hear his explanation, his excuse, and, eventually and most importantly, his apology.

“I know,” you said even though you didn’t. It made sense for Jungkook not to ask for anyone’s help, though. “It’s okay.”

“But I’m glad she came,” he revealed, “because now I have an excuse to tell you that I, uh… I fucked up.”

Resisting a relieved sigh – because you’d been worried that resolving this argument would require the sort of maturity that neither of you had, but Jungkook was surprisingly determined to solve it the same way you solved all of your fights: by turning half of it into a joke – you sat opposite him and shrugged.

“Not the first time,” you said.

Scoffing, Jungkook agreed, “yeah. Definitely not. But I, uh… you haven’t done anything wrong. I was pissed at—I was pissed off and I let my frustrations out on you. And that’s not fair.”

You nodded, agreeing with the way he’d interpreted your last conversation.

“Well,” you said then, “that’s probably not the first time, either.”

He raised an eyebrow at your comment, a flash of concern appearing in his eyes before he clicked his tongue and said under his breath, “alright, open and honest. That’s good. I deserve that.”

You didn’t reply this time. You didn’t encourage him to keep going, either, but he took your silence as a sign that he’d obviously not said enough to make up for his words that night.

“I was wrong,” Jungkook said and paused. He couldn’t believe he’d spent every night the past week, trying to think of a way to say this to you, when it was literally all so simple. “I asked you to leave because I genuinely believed you’d be better without me, but I—I’ve never felt more afraid than when I saw you turn around and walk away. I thought it’d be for the best, but the thought of never seeing you again was terrifying. That sounds selfish now that I’ve said it, but I’m not saying it because I’m scared to lose you, even though I am. I’m saying this because I’m sorry.”

You’d forgotten how to blink as you watched him, and you thought you’d misheard him when he apologized. That was something that was understandable – a person did something they regretted, and they apologized for it – but Jungkook was never one who behaved in conventional ways.

And yet, he continued, “I’ve been caged my whole life, always blamed for the things I did that did not fit the person that I was supposed to be.”

Contrary to the conversation with Jungkook’s mother that you’ve had in this exact same spot, now you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes off of him as he spoke. Jungkook, meanwhile, scratched his temple with a nervous finger and proceeded to count the wooden tiles on the floor.

“But you’re not like them,” he was saying, not specifying who ‘they’ were because he didn’t have to, “no one’s ever given me the sort of freedom that you did. You’re the only one that allowed me to think about what I wanted. You’re the one who told me to act on it. As long as I didn’t self-destruct along the way, of course.”

He tried to lighten the mood, smiling as he said that last part, but your face remained stoic and, for a moment, Jungkook worried you hadn’t heard him. Or, worse – you had heard him, but he wasn’t saying the right things.

In all truth, that was precisely the case – you thought he was giving you too much credit. He’d blamed you for taking control of his life that night at the bar, and now he was thanking you for it.

You didn’t think you deserved the blame or the gratitude: you never wanted him to do whatever you commanded him to do. You just wanted him to stop making decisions that would lead him to an early grave.

“You…” he continued, more tentative now, “you’ve put up with me for so long and I was overwhelmed by the fact that there’s no one like you in my life. So, I guess, for a moment, you didn’t feel real to me, either, because how could you be? A-and so, I ended up blaming you for the things that I should have never blamed you for.”

You nodded, acknowledging it all, even the sleepless nights that he hadn’t told you about – he didn’t have to; the dark circles under his eyes said more than enough. You’d recognized them with ease because you’d seen them in your own mirror every morning this week.

And then you spoke, returning to the one point of your last argument that he hadn’t brought up.

The one point that may have angered you more than anything else he’d said that night.

“I didn’t agree to help you with your parents because of the company,” you said.

“I know,” he said.

Jungkook seemed to remember almost every part of that night – although, blissfully, he’d forgotten what he’d done after you’d left; there were bruises on his knuckles and his face to show for it, though – and you couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.

If he didn’t remember what happened, that could have been a sign that he was wasted out of his mind and that was why he’d said what he’d said. But that was a very poor excuse, considering that a drunken tongue often voiced out sober thoughts.

At least now you didn’t have to remind him of his own words – that would have made this conversation far less calm. But, at the same time, the fact that he could remember arguing with you, meant that he was sober enough to get himself in control back there. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d allowed his instincts to take the wheel: he’d won against the alcohol, but lost against his own impulses.

Taking a deep breath, you thought now was your only chance to explain your reasons for being with him because you weren’t sure how this coffee date was going to play out just yet. And if this was the last time you’d see him, he deserved to know the whole truth.

“I agreed to help you,” you said, “because you asked me to.”

Nodding before you properly finished, he said, “I know—”

“But also,” you cut him off, your voice growing louder and then falling into an almost hushed tone as you said, “because I couldn’t say no to you. Not when you were desperate to get me to say yes. I—I had been in love with you for a lot longer than—than either of us realized, probably. And, maybe, I’d also wanted to know what it’d be like to be with you.”

Admitting that you wanted to play a relationship with him felt childish, and you couldn’t lift your eyes to meet his. But, even so, it also felt relieving.

You’d said it.

You’d admitted it to yourself and to him. You’d chosen to strip down to your vulnerability, and that was difficult and bold, but it also freed you from being the only person in the world who knew this.

“And,” Jungkook exhaled shakily, “what was it like?”

You felt your lips curl into a hesitant half-smile. “Not too terrible, surprisingly.”

He laughed with his whole chest and you found yourself leaning back a little, so you could take in the sight in front of you.

A beat passed as Jungkook recovered, a small smile still on his face. Then, you dared to speak again.

“I’m sorry I always tried to take care of you,” you spoke, each word calculated. You had already thought about telling him this, so you knew you chose your words right; you just weren’t sure what sort of reception awaited you.

Jungkook gave you a long look, his eyes accepting your apology while, simultaneously, trying to tell you that it wasn’t necessary.

“I’m sorry I always asked you to,” he countered, “and then demanded that you don’t.”

You smiled. “I’m sorry I’m starting to think you need to see a therapist.”

“Yeah,” he snickered, nodding, “don’t be sorry about that one. I…” he lowered his eyes before saying, “I’m sorry I accused you of controlling me when I’m the one who never lets you make your own decisions.”

Your eyebrows did a little dance, rising in surprise at first – because he’d said something you weren’t expecting – and then lowering into a frown – after you’d digested his words and came to the conclusion that you didn’t like the way they tasted.

“No, that’s—I can stand up for myself if I have to,” you said, defending both, yourself, and him, too.

“You can,” he didn’t disagree, sighing, “really well, too. No matter how much I try to stand in your way,” he paused for a minute. Then, he said, “I can’t. Stand up for myself, I mean. I think I can, but unless I’m hitting someone in the face, I—but I’m trying. Only, I’m not doing a very good job at it, clearly.”

He stopped talking even though he’d inhaled as if he had something else left to say. You watched him, waiting and slowly realizing that he had either forgotten what he was about to say, or he thought there was no point to say it.

Neither was the case. He just needed some time to gather the words.

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, “I need you. A lot. And I’m sorry about that, too. I’m sorry I rely on you so much.”

You looked away, shaking your head, “you don’t.”

“No, I do,” he disagreed. “I always go back to you. I need you in my life and then I push you away, I’m—”

“That’s what I mean,” you cut him off, your voice more frantic than before. “You don’t rely on me. You want to, but you’re holding yourself back. I’m here for you. I was always here for you.”

The sound of his rapid heartbeat deafened him for a moment and he wasn’t sure if he really spoke, or if he just thought about it, as he tried to ask, “even though I don’t deserve it?”

“You—well, sometimes, you really don’t,” you admitted, not sugarcoating it because the expression on his face needed you to be truthful. “But, at the same time, I couldn’t think of any other person who would need someone to rely on more than you do.”

Now the beating of his heart wasn’t just deafening – it was painful, too, each beat like a sharp stab that did not merely scratch the surface of every organ inside of him, but seemed to suck all oxygen out of his lungs, too.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, “and I know it would be better for me to leave. But I—well, I can’t. I… I think that maybe—uh, maybe I picked that fight with you at the bar just so you’d walk away from me.”

His hypothetical reasoning hurt almost as much as actually walking away from him did.

“What makes you think I can walk away from you?” you asked, sounding brave but only because you hid your face behind your coffee cup as you took a sip.

“You know you can,” he replied.

Lowering the cup, you phrased yourself differently, “what makes you think I would want to?”

His blood pulsed with a desperate need to hear you say that again – a dozen more times, at least – but Jungkook tried, for once, to remain rational.

He’d gone too far that night at the bar, but it gave him the opportunity to get the closure you didn’t get when you talked to him that night in your bedroom, moving past the Seven Year Silence as if it didn’t matter anymore. As if you didn’t need to talk about that ever again, even though the lost years lingered behind you like a forgotten tail that you kept tripping over each time you took your relationship a step further.

“I’m bad,” Jungkook spoke. “I’m bad for you.”

He’d said it – and that was it. He’d stepped on the tail. Purposefully this time, with scissors in hand. Only he didn’t yet know what he’d end up cutting – the past that he couldn’t seem to move on from, or himself, out of your life.

“You’re—you’re annoying as shit. Impossible sometimes, even,” you said, remembering how irritated he’d made you feel at times. And how little it mattered, at the end of the day. “But you’re not bad for me. You’re not bad, period.”

Jungkook exhaled and opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue with you further, but didn’t know how.

In the end, he didn’t think he deserved you because he thought he was too far gone, but, as you watched him, you knew that that was exactly the reason why he did deserve you. Because he only saw his flaws – always only flaws – and he refused to consider how much more of him there was.

“I never meant to hurt you. Ever,” he said, “not even when I said those stupid things—it’s all because I’m—fuck, it all just sounds like an excuse, doesn’t it? An excuse to make me feel better about staying with you despite being bad for—”

“It might sound like an excuse,” you interrupted gently, “but it’s the one part that isn’t. You’re not bad if you didn’t mean to be. You’re not bad if you’re trying to be better.”

He thought it over for a minute and then, looking up from his abandoned cup of coffee, he gave you one final excuse, “I love you. Too much, probably.”

Inhaling sharply because the confession took you off-guard, you replied with a slight tremble in your voice, “I—I love you, too. You know I do. But I don’t want that to be something that… something that you take for granted.”

That had never been his intention – which was why his stomach clenched uncomfortably after you said this – but he knew he’d been doing exactly that: treating you like you were a constant in his life. As if he’d never lost you before. As if he couldn’t lose you again.

“I know,” he said, “I didn’t mean to. We’ve already been—”

Reading his mind, you cut in, “thank you for not waiting for seven years to apologize this time.”

Jungkook had to give you a good look before he allowed himself to react. When he saw the small grin on your lips right before you took another sip of your coffee, he laughed.

“No, I’ve learnt that lesson,” he said, “I promise.”

“Just that one, then?” you bit, not cruelly.

Jungkook lowered his eyes, taking the blow in silence.

Putting your cup of coffee down, you exhaled and kindly reminded him, “you know, you, uh—you’d promised me you would think before you acted.”

“I promised to try,” he corrected, careful. “And I’m trying, really. I’ve kept my other promises to you, haven’t I? I never lied to you.”

You nodded, “sure.”

“I’m getting myself together like my father wanted,” he stated and, looking out the window of the café, he added, “but I’m not doing it for the company.”

Surprised and, consequently, alarmed, you almost didn’t want to ask him what he meant. You were afraid there was a reason – a person – that he was trying to grow up for. You were afraid he might say he was doing this for you.

Because that would mean that his determination was temporary. He’d try to behave, try to mature, try to grow but only as long as he got a reward for it. Never because that was his own goal.

“No?” you questioned lamely, your voice almost a squeal.

“No,” Jungkook confirmed, “I’m doing it so I wouldn’t lose my teeth before I’m fifty.”

Startled at first when you recognized your own words, you felt your face break into a surprised smile. Jungkook was glad you remembered.

“I’m doing it for myself,” he said then, “so I could be with you.”

You did not say anything else – but not because you had nothing left to say. In fact, it was the opposite – you had too much to say and you couldn’t choose where to start.

“I want to…” Jungkook broke the momentary silence between you but he too struggled to find the right way to begin his next sentence. Clearing his throat and straightening his posture, he tried differently, “I want you with me through everything, but only if that’s what you want, too. If it’s not, then—”

Cutting him off with an aggressive clear of your throat – you didn’t mean to, but he was spitting out his words so quickly, you couldn’t find the right moment to interrupt him – you slid to the edge of your seat and shook your head.

“I want to be with you,” you said and then added in a matter-of-fact way, “I’ve always wanted that. But I need you to talk to me. I need you to tell me what you need—do you need me to be with you quietly, or do you need me to say something? Do you need me to stay or do you need me to leave you alone? Do you—”

“Stay,” he said without hesitation. “I always need you to stay.”

Leave, his voice echoed in your mind, the night at the bar still painfully fresh in your memory.

“I need you to tell me that,” you said, feeling a lump in your throat, “when you feel like you’re not thinking clearly. When you want to do something so you’d get rid of all that you’ve bottled up inside. I need you to talk to me.”

“I—”

“Don’t say you will if you don’t mean it,” you warned, noticing the determined look on his face. “I don’t want for us to keep going back and forth, because I don’t like it when you tell me to leave, only to say the exact opposite later.”

Wincing, Jungkook was forced to remember how the night ended yet again. Not wanting it to turn into another tail that you never addressed, even though it obviously strained your relationship, he cleared his throat before explaining.

“I… I just don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting your time on me,” he said, “I—I know I keep saying I’ll try to get myself together and learn how to—well, be an adult, but no one knows how long that’ll take me to learn, least of all me.”

Jungkook expected you to hesitate but your response was immediate.

“I never asked you to promise me something that you didn’t believe in. And I know that our future isn’t clear,” you said with a sympathetic nod because he didn’t give you an excuse right now. He gave you an explanation. “I’ve always known that. And I’ve stayed so far, haven’t I? So… how about you don’t worry about how long it’ll take for you to grow up? Worry about the end result instead. Worry about making sure that, at the end of the day, neither of us is wasting our time, pretending to be bigger and better than we actually are. Worry about us becoming as big and as good as we’re pretending to be. However long that takes.”

“I feel like the only way to really make sure we’re not wasting our time,” he confessed, “would be for me to leave.”

Groaning in defeat, you said, “you’re an idiot.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook needed a moment to understand why, but he got distracted by your exaggerated groan, so he just went with it, “yeah, I probably am.”

“You tell me that walking away is the right choice one more time,” you threatened, “I swear, I will punch you. And then you’ll really need stitches.”

He’d forgotten about his wounded eyebrow and the band-aid that he’d clumsily glued on it yesterday – after he accidentally ripped the wound open and didn’t want the blood to get in his eye.

Smiling now, he asked, “I thought violence wasn’t the answer?”

“You’re too thick to hear me otherwise.”

Jungkook laughed. You realized that, despite knowing him for twenty-three years now, you haven’t seen him laugh nearly enough times to get used to the sight.

“I need you, too. Okay?” you found yourself saying, hopeful that he’d really hear you this time. “A lot. And, believe me, I make it complicated for myself enough without your help—I overthink, I get scared, I hesitate, I waste my own time. But, see, I think it’s worth it. I think we’re worth it.”

He nodded, taking mental notes to ease his uncertainty about this. He had to know that being with you really wasn’t selfish on his part.

But even with your glittering eyes on him, he still needed more reassurance.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked. “I know you said I need to talk to you, I-I get that. Okay. But what do you need me to do so you wouldn’t look back at this, and think of every minute you’ve spent with me as a minute wasted?”

You didn’t have to think long about your answer.

“I need you to give yourself a break,” you told him. “You’re not something I have to “put up with”. You’re not bad for me. I need you to understand that I genuinely love you and it hurts me when you refuse to see it.”

Ready to apologize again, Jungkook suddenly stopped himself. An apology would have only been genuine if he knew what he was apologizing for – and he wasn’t sure that he did.

“I’ve never… no one’s loved me like that before,” he admitted, his eyes low.

You shook your head because that wasn’t true at all, and it was painful to know that he’d spent his whole life thinking so. He’d gotten so used to believing that he was only loved as much as he was useful, he couldn’t even see how some love was completely unconditional.

“Yes, they have,” you said, speaking slowly because you waited for him to look at you again, “your mom—she loves you much more than you see. Let her. Let me. Learn how to stop thinking of yourself as someone not worthy of love.”

“It’s—but I wasn’t always this way,” he said, not just stepping on the tail, but gripping it tightly, too. “Seven years ago. I’d been putting myself first every day before that. But that day—that last day—t-that was probably the day when I’d made the only smart decision in my life – I did the right thing by not putting myself first. I thought of you, and I walked away.”

You and him kept going in circles -- with Jungkook beating himself up for not being good enough, and then finally giving himself a moment to breathe only to return, yet again, to the loudest voice in his head: he thought he was selfish for being with you. He thought it’d be better to leave.

His mother had thought so, too, and she’d said the exact same thing to you. You’d disagreed then and you disagreed now.

“And how’d that “smart decision” work out in the end?”

“Well—”

“It obviously didn’t,” you answered for him, “or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But, you know what, you’re right about one thing – maybe the moment you overheard your mom say that she was worried about your influence on me, was exactly the moment you convinced yourself that you weren’t worth it. That you didn’t deserve to be loved unless you became exactly what you thought people wanted you to be,” you finished and Jungkook looked frozen, not daring—and not being able—to move a muscle. You felt the need to add, “so, you’re, uh—you’re right. You weren’t always this way. But this change—that wasn’t a good change. You hadn’t made a good decision. It was stupid. Walking away was stupid.”

It took him a minute to regain control of himself and when he did, he wasn’t sure what to say because, mentally, he was across the table, standing right behind you and holding you so tightly, neither of you was able to breathe.

“I was—” he said and almost choked, his mouth dry. Swallowing, he tried again, “I-I was trying to look out for you.”

“I understand your reasons,” you said, not needing him to explain it again. “Let’s say you were. But I’m not in the ninth grade anymore. You said so yourself, I can walk away. I know my limits.”

Jungkook nodded, keeping his respectful silence as he listened.

“You push them every day,” you added.

Blinking, he scrambled for a way to reply, “I—”

“And,” you weren’t done yet, “I let you know when you do. I tell you. And if you told me about what you were thinking, too, then we could work on it,” you paused, wondering if you’d said everything. Then, deciding that you hadn’t, you added, just to strengthen your point, “walking away is not the best solution. Not when it hurts more than staying.”

Jungkook feared what you would answer, but he still had to ask, “does staying with me hurt?”

Your skin prickled at the sound of his small voice.

“No,” you admitted.

“Does leaving?”

“Yes,” you said. “Always.”

Inhaling sharply, he longed to reach over the table and touch your hand, but he felt himself freeze again – as if this whole afternoon had been one dream, and he was now paralyzed: his mind awake, but his body still asleep.

“Come to my show this Friday night,” he finally asked, his breathing shallow while his words poured out of his mouth in an uncontrollable stream, “fight me and punch me if I’m wrong. Argue with me and completely shatter whatever was left of my ego after I fell in love with you. Leave me by myself if you’ve had too much. Walk away if you need some time to breathe while I learn how to be better. But always come back to me,” pausing because he needed one more moment to brace himself before saying this again, he asked, “stay with me, please.”

keep reading | masterlist

#bts reactions #bts college au #bts fanfiction #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #college au #angst #fanfiction #fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook angst #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook college au

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aprilsrant · 4 years

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Lay all your love on me | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N)’s been crushing on the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain for over three years. Now, in their seventh and last year of Hogwarts, her friends are determined to get them together.

WORD COUNT: 2,833.

WARNINGS: underage drinking. (If there are more and I didn’t put them, let me know).

NEXT PARTS:

Honey Honey! (part two)

When I kissed the teacher (part three).

A/N: so, this came out because of a random idea and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. For some reason, I like to imagine wizards dancing to ABBA, of course it’s the muggleborns and maybe halfbloods that know about them. This was written while I listened to Lay all your love on me, slowed down, on repeat. I algo gave the reader’s friends name because it was easier, and I may or mat not based their personality on my own close friends…

English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes, I’m sorry! Reblog if you can, and if you have any suggestions or requests just DM!

Masterlist.

tags: @peeves-a-legend (thank you for everything).

The Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff Quidditch match had ended with a win for the eagle’s house, although the other team did not make it easy for them. The Hufflepuffs were known for their patience and hard working nature, giving up easily was not one of their traits and that’s exactly what everyone had seen on the match this afternoon. They knew their opponent’s Seeker, Cho Chang was getting better with each game she played, so the Captain of the Hufflepuff Team decided their best chance was, if he wasn’t fast enough to catch the snitch that is, to lash out against the poor Keeper.

And so they did.

The Chasers, Preece, Macavoy and Applebee, were unstoppable. On the occasion the Quaffle landed in their hands, which had been like seventy percent of the time, they would use many different strategies to confuse the other players, including the Keeper, and score a goal.

Even after their brilliant performance, Ravenclaw still won by twenty points ahead when Cho Chang caught the snitch. A small distraction from the Hufflepuff Seeker and Captain had cost them the victory, but that didn’t discourage the badgers, hell, (Y/N) thought nothing could after how well they had played. She had never felt so much respect for the usually overlooked House.

That was pretty much the reason why the Ravenclaws were so eager to celebrate their win and had invited the whole school, or at least everyone up to the age of fifteen, to their Common Room. Many people believed they weren’t capable of throwing a good party since they were supposed to be smart and have their head on a book every minute, but (Y/N) never doubted them. One of her best friends was a Ravenclaw and that girl sure knew how to have fun, school and good grades being the last thing on her mind whenever she got sight of the Firewhisky.

If you had asked for (Y/N)’s opinion, she would tell you Ravenclaws were the seconds best at Hogwarts on the matter of hosting parties, Slytherins right up to them. Albeit that may have been biased, she herself was a Slytherin and, thinking about it, she never went to any Gryffindor parties because, well, no one except her other friend wanted a Slytherin there. Many of them thought they were some kind of saints just because they were brave and didn’t realise they were, instead, a bunch of reckless and prejudiced twats. The remaining house, Hufflepuff, took parties to a whole other level and sometimes it became all a little too much. She wasn’t much of a party person but she still enjoyed them from time to time, but they went insane any time alcohol was in the room and started to come up with crazy ideas that would, with no doubt, get them expelled.

After waiting ten minutes for a member of the house to step out and answer the riddle for her, which (Y/N) knew you didn’t need to be part of the house to reply but even as a Slytherin and having, supposedly, a cunning and intelligent mind she sucked at those kind of questions; she, and twenty others, finally entered the Ravenclaw Common Room, which was completely renovated since the last time she had visited it.

The circular and wide room was filled with students from all the four houses making it seem smaller than it actually was. The moon shone, filtering through the arched windows, barely illuminated but some flickering and colour changing lights on the ceiling made it work. The furniture was against the wall on the left side so people could dance freely in the middle, while the tables on the right bursted with food and bottles of alcohol. A muggle radio had been placed on one of the large table’s corner and to (Y/N)’s delight, it wasn’t playing any songs by the Weird Sisters. She loathed that band since last year when some students, presumably Gryffindors, enchanted the speakers on the hallways to repeatedly play one of the group’s songs.

The girl started to move towards the left side of the room, avoiding the crowd growing larger and larger. Trying to catch some familiar faces, she stood on her tiptoes and observed the room, but the lack of light and her problem with seeing things from afar, made her search harder. A couple of minutes had passed when she recognized the trio she was friends with. They were waving and screaming her name, trying to catch her attention, right beside the door that led to the dormitories.

(Y/N) grinned at them while walking in their direction. Once she settled on Isla’s side, her best friend since childhood, some of her nerves were washed away a little. It was easier for her to be in a place packed with people if she had her close friends as company. Dorian, the last one to join the group in their fifth year, offered her a black cup with, judging by the smell, Quintin Black, her favourite. The corners of her mouth quirking up as a way of saying thanks without having to shout at him to make herself be heard through the loud music.

The Multicolour Quartet — name they all despised but stood with it because it was one of Dorian’s drunk comments when he realised how they were all from different houses; (Y/N) was the Slytherin, he was the Gryffindor, and the other two, Isla and Ethan, were both Ravenclaws — easily fell in a conversation about Isla’s brilliant performance as Chaser for her House’s Team, the other three complimenting her whenever she started to list all the errors that almost allowed the Hufflepuffs to win.

Spacing out of her friend’s chat, (Y/N)’s eyes peer round the room looking, nearly in a desperate way, for someone in particular. Answering the comments the other three made with a simple nod of her head or a yes to seem like she was paying attention, her eyes fixated in a figure directly across from them, supporting it’s body’s weight on a wall. He was surrounded by some of his classmates and friends from the same house, but she could still see, albeit with great trouble, his short brown hair and his right hand holding a black cup, equal to the one she had.

She failed to realise that her friends had noticed where her attention travelled to. Sharing knowing glances and smirks they knew it was time for (Y/N) to talk to the boy she’d been crushing on for three years now. Isla and Ethan left saying some people were starting to cause trouble, not that (Y/N) had actually listened to them, too lost in attempting to catch another glimpse of the boy. That ended on Dorian, the most chaotic of the four, finding the way to make them, at least, share two or three words.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her left arm dragging her along the room and pushing people on the way. That belonged to Dorian and it didn’t take long for her to understand what he was doing, his mischievous smile betraying him. Her eyes widened and she shook her head while planting her feet on the floor, putting all her strength on them so he wouldn’t move her. She didn’t succeed. Obviously because of his friend’s stronger hands.

A chant of pleas and several no exited from her mouth, but it was useless. If something got inside Dorian’s head, then nothing could stop him from doing it. A trait they both shared and the cause of a few of their arguments, neither of them knew when to back the hell down. Not even the promise of (Y/N) doing his Arithmancy homework for two weeks made him stop on his tracks. Dorian had really compromised to the cause because she knew how much he detested that subject, only taking it to please his father.

Before she could raise the offer to a month, they were already in front of him and the group he was chatting with.

Oliver Wood smiled at the two friends, recognizing only one of them but still being kind and inviting towards her, whose heart was about to jump out of her chest from how fast it was beating.

“Hey, Wood, how’re you doing?,” Dorian greeted him first and then nodded at the others as if he was saying hi, “preparing for the Quidditch match next week?”

(Y/N) stood awkwardly by Dorian’s side, looking and smiling shyly at people she had never interacted with. She was going to cut this boy’s head of the minute everyone left.

“Yeah, the Hufflepuffs played like hell today.” She heard Oliver say. His words tumbling with each other. Was he already starting to get drunk? “I think I’ll need to book more practices if we want to win next week”.

Luckily, or not, Dorian noticed he hadn’t introduced his friend to the group yet. And even if she didn’t like to just stand there like a rigid stick, she hated the new attention.

“This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), by the way,” he announced while placing his right hand on the upper side of her back and pushing her body to the front. And the shy smile made an appearance on her face once more.

She whispered a small hello, looking at everyone but Oliver, and instantly felt the need to jump off the Astronomy Tower, not long after making Dorian the next designated Gryffindor Ghost.

“What house are you in? I’ve never seen you before,” questioned one of the boys next to Oliver with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a lost look on his eyes, as if he was trying to place her and remember the colours of the tie she used daily.

“She’s not a Gryffindor, maybe that’s why you haven’t seen her much,” Dorian answered before she had the chance to, “she’s actually a Slytherin.” A new expression on his face now, intimidating the others to see if they dared to express some kind of negative or stupid comment to his friend about the house she belonged to. No one said anything. She saw Dorian smiling proudly from the corner of her eye, but in that moment (Y/N) had the weird sensation she was some kind of prey to starving lions.

The group began to talk to each again, like nothing happened, all except Oliver, who was looking at her with his eyebrows raised and an intriguing sparkle in his dark brown eyes.

Dorian spoked once more.

Does he ever shut up?

“Remember the other day you said you were falling behind in Potions and Transfiguration?” Oliver nodded at him, signalising her friend to keep talking. “Well, I have the perfect person to help you with that. (Y/N) tutors me from time to time in those subjects too.”

Forget the Astronomy Tower, she desperately needed some kind of magical earthquake that could crack the floor beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

It’s not like Dorian was lying, she had helped him, and still did sometimes, to study for an important test, not only in Potions and Transfiguration, but also in the rest of the subjects they shared. Merlin knew that boy was a disaster when talking about paying attention to classes. But that didn’t mean she was good enough to tutor Oliver freaking Wood. (Y/N) could treat Dorian how she wanted if he wasn’t trying to, at least, know what she was talking about, they were friends and most of their time together was spent hitting each other, but how was she supposed to act around the precious Gryffindor Quidditch Captain?

“Great!,” Oliver exclaimed quickly. A sudden blush crept all the way from below his turtle neck to his cheeks, but she couldn’t identify if it happened because of the alcohol or embarrassment from sounding “too enthusiastic”. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I was about to start looking for one. McGonagall said that if I don’t get my grades up to an Exceeds Expectations, I won’t be able to play the rest of the matches.”

“That sucks, but you’d found one already so you two can start immediately with the tutoring sessions”, Dorian commented slily while looking at her with the smile of a champion adorning his face.

He was trying exceptionally hard, she had to give him that.

In a swift movement, she drank the whole content of her cup to see if the knot that had formed on her stomach would go away. The blonde girl, perhaps a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, beside (Y/N) noticed her drink was missing and offered her to reach out for one of the bottles of the table across. The Slytherin nodded and asked for the bottle of Quintin Black if there was still one.

“So you like Scottish things?” Oliver observed, with his eyes lighted up and his bottom lip stuck beneath his teeth, when he saw her grab the bottle of alcohol filled to the middle with onyx liquid.

“She sure does.” She heard Dorian mumble, he had tried to hide the smirk burying his face on his cup but (Y/N) took notice of that too. After giving him a pointed look, she turned her head towards Oliver, who, hopefully, hadn’t heard her friend’s remark; if he had, he was good at concealing it.

Her response was interrupted by the starting melody of “Lay all your love on me”, one of her favourite songs, and a voice that could only belong to her best friend, screaming her name. Out of nowhere, Isla took her hand, said something to Oliver and Dorian about returning her to them later, and yanked (Y/N) to the direction of the made up dance floor, making her almost drop the cup she was holding.

It was an unspoken rule between them, whenever one of their favourite songs was on the radio, they would stop what they were doing, important or not, and start to dance and sing, without caring about other people’s opinion. It was something like a ritual that had become a safe space and a signature of their friendship for both of the girls.

A few seconds through the song had played when Celine stopped dancing and approached her friend, whispering something in her ear.

“Okay, don’t look and don’t freak out, but Oliver hot stuff Wood is staring at you.”

“What? What do I do?”

“Just keep dancing, I guess, maybe he likes it.”

“I don’t know how to dance, why would he like it?”

Confusion and panic in her eyes, (Y/N) tried to think about all the logical reasons Oliver Wood, one of the most attractive guys in the school, could be watching her dance. The girl knew she wasn’t beautiful, even if her best friend repeatedly said so, she wasn’t funny or interesting and, on top of all, she belonged in Slytherin, the House with the worst reputation.

“No idea, but whatever it is, keep doing it.”

Her best friend winked at her, a large and contagious smile spreading over her face. Grabbing one of (Y/N)’s hands, she made her twirl around following the fast beat of the song. Seizing the opportunity, (Y/N) glanced at Oliver and discovered that he was, indeed, staring at her while he drank from his black cup.

A random and unexpected laugh flew out of her mouth. Her best friend, carefree as always, began to giggle with her while dancing around the room. She had never felt more alive, and some people would think she was ridiculous for actually thinking it, but singing her favourite song at the top of her lungs, dancing and laughing and just having fun with her best friend. Excitement running through her veins uniting with the nerves Oliver’s attention towards her had provoked; a slight headache caused by the alcohol mixing with the new confidence coming from the same thing.

Aware of the dark brown eyes focusing on her, she turned around once more, but this time she didn’t look away. She kept singing, beaming at him from the middle of the dance floor, and maintaining eye contact. A sudden thought appeared on her mind, if she’d had maybe one more full cup of Quintin Black, perhaps she would’ve been confident enough to ask him on a date.

Don’t go wasting your emotions, lay all your love on me.

Don’t go sharing your devotion, lay all your love on me.

(Y/N) didn’t think that he would take that as an invitation when she whispered the words while looking at him, it wasn’t even meant to be one, but Oliver Wood had left his cup on the table next to him and was now walking towards her.

A little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck.

I still don’t know what you’ve done with me.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #slytherin!reader #oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x slytherin!reader #slytherin #harry potter fanfiction #oliver wood imagine #fluff #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood oneshot #hp imagine

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true-blue-megamind · 3 years

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FAN THEORY THURSDAY – Why Did Metroman Retire?

Happy Almost-Friday, everyone! And even though Minion threatens to smother everything he cooks in old Limburger cheese each time I say it: SPOILER WARNING!

Yes, I know, it’s three a.m. and it’s technically Friday, but I’m still calling this Thursday night, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Okay, let’s be honest, Metroman is a character who seems, on the surface, to require little explanation in the film Megamind. He’s only present in the beginning and end, and we spend half the movie believing he’s dead, and we learn that Metroman has done something almost unheard of among superheroes: he’s chosen to retire. The question is: why? There is a tendency to think that he's simply a spoiled rich boy who, (in his social life, at least,) does what he wants without regard for others, but is that really fair? Or could there be other possible reasons? Well, let’s take a look at a few fan theories that may explain why he chose to abandon heroism for a music career.

Metroman Didn’t Want to Be a Hero

Although he’s clearly based on—and perhaps even poking a little fun at—the Man of Steel, Metroman was no Superman. (I mean, okay, he was technically a super-man, since he had strength, speed, and powers far beyond what a human would possess.) Except, here’s the thing: he’s not a carbon copy of the Man of Steel; Metroman and Superman have completely different lives and personalities. This remains true despite the fact that they share a similar origin—that of being aliens from a dead planet—and identical powers—including laser-vision and flight. Even their code names are comparable. However, if we look deeper, it becomes obvious that Metroman and Superman are two very different characters.

Superman is all about being an upstanding hero. Although he can be annoyingly persnickety, and sometimes displays nearly oppressively unyielding strictures about right and wrong, one thing you can say about the Man of Steel is that he’s generally integral. He is exactly what his public image portrays him to be: a Good Guy through and through. The same isn’t true of Metroman, and in some ways that makes him a more complex and interesting character.

The childhoods of the two heroes are extremely different. As I’ve mentioned in Why Was Megamind Raised in Prison, when a boy, Metroman was a bully, not only making young Megamind an outsider and the object of everything from teasing to physical attacks, but also inspiring other students to do the same. Superman, on the other hand, far from being a bully was bullied by Pete Ross. Rather than using his powers against others, he was too responsible and good-hearted to use them even against Pete Ross. Metroman is adopted by super-wealthy parents, and is essentially a trust-fund baby, while Superman was adopted by a farm family. He grows up with a good work ethic and hometown values. Indeed, this economic discrepancy continues into adulthood. As far as we can tell, Metroman doesn’t need to work and has no job outside being a superhero. Superman, conversely, has to earn a living as a journalist. Finally, in the majority of comics, Superman avoids most public appearances, unless he feels they serve some beneficial social purpose. Indeed, he goes to great lengths to keep his identity a secret and avoid the public eye as much as possible. The first time we see Metroman in the film, however, he is basking in a crowd’s adoration at the dedication of a museum in his honor. Indeed, in the original script, then called Mastermind, Metroman’s real identity seems to be widely known. (In case you’re wondering, this is where the name Wayne Smith, commonly used in the fandom, originates from.) So, we see that these character are actually very different: one is a hero strictly for the greater good, and the other, while he certainly does a lot of good things, is also in it for the fame.

This may seem like I’m being harsh toward poor Wayne Smith, but his flaws do not, in fact, make him a bad person. The issue is that we’re comparing him to Superman who, while still certainly imperfect, is intended to be a better-than-average person in every way, including moral. Make no mistake, Metro City’s former hero isn’t any sort of villain; what he is is normal. If we’re honest, most of us would be pleased by wide-spread accolades and honors. He reacts to positive fame the same way nearly anyone would because, at his heart, he’s really just a typical guy. That is the material point: Wayne Smith really only wants to be an average citizen—a music star, perhaps, but still a relatively ordinary person. In that way, he and Megamind are alike: they both desire, more than nearly anything else, to be normal. The key difference is that Megamind’s sincere and driving concern for his city also makes him ideal for becoming a hero. (You can learn more about this particular fan theory in The Warden and in Megamind and Identity.)

So, why did Wayne Smith become a Defender in the first place, then? Again, I’ve briefly touched on this in previous posts, but it appears likely that Metroman was pushed into heroism just as much as Megamind was pushed into supervillainy. Because he was a bully with superpowers, it’s likely that adults around him realized something had to be done about Wayne. Otherwise he was a danger. So, they constructed an environment—the Li’l Gifted School—where he could be conditioned to seek the praise of others as well as to fight Megamind, who had been singled out as his future nemesis. (In fact, that conditioning is probably why he opted for a career that would put him on stage, aside from a probable love of music.)

Because the path chosen for Megamind involved more hardships and pain, it’s easy to forget that Metroman was in essentially the exact same plight. However, the fact remains that these were both children, and they were both being coerced into perceived destinies they didn’t want. Neither of them were given a choice and, in the end, both of them cast off the expectations pressed upon them to become the people they really wanted to be. The difference is that, because of our natural biases, Megamind’s rise to Defender of Metro City seems more noteworthy than Metroman’s step into Mr. Average Joe. The truth, however, is that both characters were basically doing the same thing: being true to themselves.

Metroman May Have Had Health Concerns

We know Megamind and Metroman are close to the same age—although the latter appears to be about a year rather than days old when he lands on Earth—but what that age is is open to supposition. We know, however, that they are almost certainly in their thirties, probably in their mid- to late-thirties. (Take a look at How Old is Megamind for more information about that.) However, we can see that Wayne is already going gray around the temples. Of course, some people’s genetics simply cause them to go gray earlier, and that’s certainly a possibility, but one fan theory suggest there may be more going on. The idea has been put forward that Wayne’s super-speed may be having an adverse effect on him, forcing his body to work overtime to keep up. The resulting physical stress could be making him age prematurely.

That’s not the only factor to consider. As hard as heroism may have been on his body, the effects on Metroman’s mind would have been even greater. Before the events in the movie, Metro City’s authorities—and, indeed, all its citizens—became too reliant upon their superhuman hero, and as a result that hero was run ragged. That isn’t a mere hypothesis. A scene that was storyboarded but never included in the final film makes Metroman’s plight perfectly clear. We see him being called from one end of the city to the other for everything from a massive explosion to an old lady needing help opening a jar. Keep in mind that, when hearing a cry for assistance, the hero would likely be unable to tell who truly needed him urgently and who was simply making unnecessary demands, thus he would have to rush to every call he heard. Even the city’s law enforcement seems to take him for granted, refusing to take criminals he just hand-delivered to jail because they’re on lunch break. The cumulative effect is that Metroman looks nearly frantic with stress.

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This is important because, aside from the obvious mental and emotional concerns, this sort of stress accelerates aging as well. According to an article in the Huffington Post, when glycation and telomere shortening, as well as the over-oxidation, are caused by enduring heightened stress for prolonged periods of time, it can result not only in graying hair and premature wrinkles, but heart trouble as well. Even the memory can be affected, as one study by the University of Wisconsin found that stress can age a person’s brain up to four years faster than normal, and contribute to cognitive problems later in life. (The study was part of a presentation—you have no idea how badly I wanted to write that word in all-caps—and is thus currently unpublished, but information about it can be found in an article from Over Sixty.)

Metroman Retired for the Good of Everybody

As you can see, in a strange way, having a super-powered Defender was actually crippling Metro City. In fact, it may be truly damaging to the local infrastructure and official organizations. Youtuber Olaf Scholtens, in his video Megamind: Power and Identity, uses the metaphor of an airplane manufacturer to explain what’s going on. (If you’ve read my own post Megamind and Identity, you’ve seen this before.) Engineers and factories put a lot of effort and expense into making certain aircraft are as safe as possible, but what would happen if they felt they could confidently assume a superhero would simply catch any plane that crashed, saving everyone on board? Safety standards would probably become far more lax, and people might be in far more danger as a result. Given the way that nearly everyone in Metro City seems to assume Metroman will always save the day, it’s possible that, within the urban area, the same thing could be happening with things like building code enforcement, large construction projects, and even public safety measures. Bridges might not be properly built, fire hazards might not be addressed, and, given the blasé attitudes of the cops in the storyboard, law enforcement officers might not even be bothering to keep an eye on things. By retiring, Metroman forced the city to become more self-sufficient again.

That, however, may not have been the only problem Metroman was trying to solve. Remember the whole discussion about the former Defender’s school boy bullying and the apparent conspiracy to turn one boy into a hero and the other into a supervillain? It’s possible Wayne may have felt remorse for the former and found out about the latter. Having battled Megamind so much in the past, he also may have realized that the blue man never actually hurt anyone, and in fact went out of his way to stage their confrontations in abandoned places. (Again, you can read more about that in both Megamind and Identity and The Warden.) It may be that Metroman real “brilliant plan” wasn’t simply to fake his death, but in doing so to prod Megamind into becoming a hero and thus accepted by society.

There is an alternative theory, put forward in a Reddit post, that Megamind and Metroman’s parents may have known one another, and may have sent both children to Earth with the intention of them becoming a dynamic duo, fighting evil together with Megamind as the brains and Metroman as the brawn. This could have been what Megamind’s father meant when he told his son: “You are destined for greatness.” While there is very little support for this in the movie, it would explain why, in the vast cosmos, both of the young survivors were sent not only to the same planet, but even to the same city.

Whatever the reason may have been, one thing is certain: there certainly is some evidence that Metroman intended his one-time nemesis to become a hero. One of his lines, after Roxanne and Megamind discover he’s still alive, supports this. You know the one. “If there’s bad, good will rise up against it. It’s taken me a long time to find my calling; now it’s time you find yours.” Then, of course, there is another line, when Music Man is watching his former enemy take the role of Defender of Metro City: “way to go, Little Buddy. I knew you had it in you.”

If Metroman really did purposefully help Megamind step into heroism, that could also explain why he didn’t stop Megamind from taking over the city—perhaps he trusted the blue man not to harm anyone and to eventually come to his senses—as well as why he refuses to overtly help defeat Titan. He does, however, clearly subtly assist Megamind, as the latter almost certainly went back to Wayne’s hideout to scan his appearance and voice into the holowatch. All of this together makes it seem quite plausible that Metroman not only wanted to retire, but also wanted the blue man to take his place.

Megamind and Metroman by White-Night-56 on Deviant Art

Maybe this means that, now that Megamind is the Defender of Metro City, he and Music Man occasionally get together to commiserate over the more difficult aspects of being a superhero and joke about the old days.

It’s also quite possible that all of these fan theories could be true. The film Megamind is, among other things, surprisingly subtle, complex, and subversive for an animated movie. Every time I dive deep into some aspect or other of the plot, I am once again impressed by the amount of thought and detail that went into this work. No wonder Megamind—and its characters—have so many dedicated fans.

#Megamind #Megamind movie #Metro Man #Metroman #Wayne Smith #Megamind fan theory #Megamind fan theories #DreamWorks #hero #Defender #Metro City #fan theory #fan theories #Fan Theory Thursday #Megamind fandom #Youtube #megamind

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pinkfey · 2 years

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i am humbly asking for vera facts 🤲🏼

whehehehe i’m so glad u asked 😌

she’s one of my oldest ocs and her real name is verena!! but she switched to vera later on.

she grew up on a small farm with her little brother bram <3 very happy and innocent childhood <3 so naturally her farm was plundered by bandits and she’s the only survivor 😔 or is she 👀

she is not !! while she ran from the ruins of her home believing everyone had been killed, little brother was taken captive and kept in a cage for years in the bandits fortress. and boy oh boy trauma bonding is a terrible thing because he wound up joining them :(( the whiplash of discovering your brother is alive (win) but now calling the men that murdered your parents family (major L)

she got involved in the world of crime pretty quickly, as she was around fourteen when everything went down. bow n arrow is her preferred weapon but she’s versatile 🥴 she did a lot of freelance jobs and mercenary work and became pretty well-known for being a total CUNT but a cunt who gets the job done. she’ll do anything for money.

and anything for clout. girlie LOVES clout. “go tell everyone about how heroic i am. or how awful i am idc lol.” becoming dragonborn was at first very upsetting—she never asked for this—but then she realized the Money she could get out of it and heehee hoohoo that makes her happy :-)

speaking of being a cunt, i write her with lovable bastard energy in mind !! (think: “how can you sleep at night?” “on silk sheets, rolling naked in money.”) she’s very competent and clever and morally ambiguous but when it comes to affairs of the heart she’s reduced to this scared deer in headlights. which isn’t to say her and bryn’s romance isn’t mature!! they come together in a sort of soft clumsy aching climactic way.

oh and brynjolf? she did not drop any hints about having feelings for him all throughout the mercer fray drama even though she knew exactly how whipped he was for her. she’d just ;) it away and at times would avoid him and straight up disappear at times because girlie does NOT do romance, she manipulates and uses men and that’s just how it is <3

and of course bryn was in his pining-yearning-aching era but post-mercer he fully realizes how biased he is towards and suddenly he’s the one vanishing and acting all distant and this makes her sooooooo angry because um HELLO she was the one who recognized her feelings first and worked through them for him and now she’s being IGNORED??? being uno reversed???? how dare he !!!

also one of her biggest secrets is what she does with her various homes in every city 👀 she…….. adopts children. legally she has like. twenty kids. she pays nannies to care for and teach them so she isn’t exactly a “mother” but she’s just happy she can get them off the street. NO ONE can know about them though, not because she doesn’t welcome the praise of being an orphan-savior (or whatever), but because she’s afraid her status as dragonborn would make them a target :(

#leah i am blowing u the biggest kiss MWAH #i never talk about her but she’s in my top ten ocs #it was surprisingly hard to come up with quick fun facts bc there’s just. So much vera lore.#ilysm thank youuuuuuu 💕💕💕💕#letters #arklay #ch: vera

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oliverwvvd · 3 years

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no safe kingdom, part i

For the anon who asked about battlefield Flintwood without Marcus being a Death Eater. This is a beginning of sorts for you, as promised.

pairing: Marcus Flint x Oliver Wood

premise: A meditation on trajectory and impact, on the battlefield and off it.

Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies. —Edna St. Vincent Millay

For Oliver, life is all about shapes, formations, angles. It’s how his mind naturally works. How to calculate the space between where a Quaffle will land and his outstretched fingertips, or the end of his broom, or even his fists when he punches it out of the air. His thoughts capture trajectory and impact as they happen. He knows these things instinctively, a rhythm that at first was trained and then became something so natural that it lives in the way he moves.

He analyses other things in this way too, like how the formation of Chasers should fall exactly like a flock of birds, one leading in front while two stay behind, able to weave and dart and dive towards an end-point. There’s something lovely about watching anyone in that position fly, even when it’s coming towards him.

Maybe he just thinks that because that has so often come to signify a challenging, defiant, sometimes outright mean smirk and a gleaming pair of dark eyes on his. Whatever (intense, sometimes ending in fist-fights) understanding he and Flint had had at school, it hinged on the fact that it was difficult to choose who was more obsessed with Quidditch between the pair of them.

The Gryffindor team would have said Oliver, biased and possibly too used to suffering through his practice regime, but Oliver noticed a long time ago how the Slytherin team moves to respond at the merest lift of an eyebrow from Flint. It’s subtler than Oliver’s raised voice and high-energy motivation, but the ability to call the shots is there in the risky moves that skirt the edge of being fouls. It’s there in how Marcus almost always gets away with it because he knows the rulebook back to front.

On a day where it’s not him on the receiving end, Oliver privately admires it.

On a day when he is, though, it ignites him like nothing else into fire, into competition. This thing between them is smoke and embers and underlying threat and, buried deep, a promise unacknowledged.

This was their childhood, right up until they left school, and nothing happened.

Neither of them knew it then.

There is no time for fond memories of easier times in the present moment because the next time that they lock eyes is across the same Quidditch pitch that they’d spent hours at.

It’s not a pitch any longer. Instead, it’s a battlefield, smoking from being set alight, a ruin.

Oliver had thought he and Flint would be on opposite sides. But there’s no black robe, nothing to indicate whose side he’s on apart from his own.

Oliver sees the way Flint swallows hard, the way his jaw tightens as he registers Oliver’s surprise, but then the word he mouths is clear, a command to duck.

For the first time, Oliver doesn’t run angles or trajectories or the power of command, he hits the ground.

The spell that comes searing hot, streaking violet and violent over his head, hits the ground several feet away instead of going through him and adds another curl of smoke. Flint’s running and Oliver never knew he was that fast on foot, his broad-shouldered frame carrying enough muscle that speed seemed impossible. Seconds later, they’re both on their feet, side by side, and they both target the source of the spells being fired. A handful of Death Eaters have found shelter behind the crumbling remains of one of the stands, and they both dive for the nearest protection, a huge piece of fallen rubble, firing spells back for cover.

They don’t have long.

Oliver’s voice is rough from the smoke, eyes watering when he speaks. “Are you sure about this, Flint?”

He feels Flint glance at him, as though he knows what Oliver is really asking.

“No, but I’m going to do it anyway. Never did intend to get a Mark on my arm, so might as well go out with a bang.” He could hear the dry note, almost feel the grin that isn’t really a smile, more like a warning signal to anyone who comes near the pair of them. “Taking a leaf out of the Gryffindor playbook, Wood. You?”

“Figuring out the best way to bend the rules of physics.” Oliver’s gaze flickers to where another of the stands is precariously attached, and that’s when all of the shapes and formations he’s ever arranged coalesce down to a single point. He nearly winces at what he’s about to suggest, but sentiment won’t keep them alive. “Think we can hit that?”

Flint’s grin turns wolfish. Oliver can feel it, even when he hasn’t turned his head. It’s knowledge long-acquired that he didn’t realise he even possessed. “Let’s find out.”

When they raise their wands, side by side, Oliver takes a second to breathe, and on the exhale, their spells release. The stand comes down and shatters over the Death Eaters’ heads, and they run back to the castle when they hear screams. Screams that they soon learn mean death, and loss, and terror.

It’s the first fight they’re shoulder to shoulder for that night. It won’t be the last.

Their childhood fades rapidly into the sky, curls upwards with the embers, and vanishes.

#no safe kingdom #marcus x oliver #ol writes things #flintwood #flintwoodnet #marcus flint #oliver wood

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deactivated-20220808 · 3 years

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On Validity Culture and Alter Race - Parethnicity and Racism in the System Community

Remy here to talk about a difficult and uncomfortable subject, but as a white person who considers themselves an ally to people of color, and especially systems of color, I feel like this is something that definitely needs to be brought up a lot more, so I’m going to talk about it, since no one else really seems to want to.

I will note that this post is mostly directed at white people, so there is a lot of speech directed towards white people and the potential white person reading this post. It should also be noted that this post is going to be very long, but if you actually care about people of color, I suggest you read this post before sending me a death threat for questioning you. If you don’t, well, I think that says a lot more about you than it does about me, and that’s on you to think about.

Introduction

So, another issue I have with validity culture, is that it’s all about making safe spaces...

For white people.

So many system spaces I’ve been in online have been very, very white and generally kind of hostile to systems whose bodies are people of color. Even if it’s not direct, these communities are still working hard to /seem/ not racist, but don’t actually make an effort to unlearn racism and many systems of color, (SOC), feel safe and comfortable in their spaces.

This is such an issue because SOC are already traumatized from childhood onwards by racism, intergenerationally, and as if that wasn’t enough, in the case of DIDOSDD, they were also traumatized enough to gain a system from even more childhood trauma piled on top of that. SOC need a safe space away from all of this more than anyone else, but I so often see them get ignored and thrown under the bus because white people and white systems don’t want to feel bad about their own racism, which they refuse to unlearn.

This isn’t something I want to ignore anymore. Racism is a huge problem in the system community, on all sides of syscourse, in every part of the system, multiple, plural, DIDOSDD and endogenic communities, and the only people that are talking about it are SOC, who can only talk about it with other SOC, lest they get ostracized, harassed, guilt tripped or gaslit by white systems who feel threatened by being called out for racist behaviour, as if being traumatized or mentally ill is an excuse for racism.

So I’m going to talk about it, because I feel like other white people and systems would listen to me more than they would SOC.

What Causes This Behavior?

There are a lot of contributing factors to white systems being so hostile to SOC, even if they claim to be anti-racist or allies to POC, but there are generally 4 big reasons I see as the biggest contributors to this kind of behavior in (white) system spaces:

1) White people first and foremost think that because they know about racism, that they cannot perpetuate it, which is far from true. These people don’t want to see racism as an inherent part of being white, as an inherent part of white privilege and an inherent part of themselves as white people. They don’t want to face the reality that, as white people, we are inherently racist. Not born this way, but raised this way by an inherently racist society made to benefit us and use POC as stepping stones to our success as white people. They don’t want to admit that we actively have to make an effort to unlearn this racism, because that would require not only making an effort, but giving a shit about POC and expending emotional labor that they simply don’t want to give out.

2) Because of this, they want to distance themselves from being white by hiding behind other minority labels, such as their autism, mental illness or their queerness/LGBT identity in a vain attempt to rid themselves of their white guilt, but all it does is make them seem more ignorant. These people will behave in a very ‘I’m not white, I’m nonbinary’ kind of way just to get out of being ‘attacked’ by the big, scary POC who are just trying to make spaces for themselves more comfortable and trying to minimize the trauma of just having to live their life in a society that’s constantly trying to set them up for failure.

3) Then, they do everything they can to seem ‘woke’ on a surface level to other white people without actually putting in the work to unlearn their racism. This is because they care more about getting accused of being racist than they do about actually not being racist, so when they are accused of being racist, they see it as an attack on themselves and get extremely defensive. “Well I can’t be racist, I have BLM in my bio”, “I can’t be racist, I’m queer and I love Marsha P. Johnson”, “I’m not racist, I’m ADHD and you’re being ableist for criticizing me and my hyperfixation, which happens to be racist/include racist elements”.

4) And most of all, they don’t actually, fully understand our position of power over POC and their own white privilege and how they benefit from it--and they refuse to learn because it requires them to unpack their own ingrained racism and try to unlearn it, which means they have to confront the fact that we are racist and have been born and bred to be racist, which is bad to them because they perceive being racist as a personal failure and an irredeemable flaw instead of something that, once recognized, can be learned away from and grown out of with the proper work put into it.

How Does Validity Culture Factor Into This?

I specifically mentioned ‘validity culture’ in the title of this post for a reason, and now it’s time to talk about that and what that means for the discussion of ‘alter race’ and white-bodied system’s usage of Japanese names.

Because of those points listed above, ‘validity culture’ in white system spaces becomes a very subtly racist area that’s full of white systems trying to validate other white system’s racism, and only agreeing with the (few, in my experience) SOC that agree with them.

It actually feels like a natural progression if you think about it. Validity culture in system spaces prioritizes validating everyone and every experience out of fear of making someone feel bad and possibly invalidating their experiences, and that progresses to racism very, very quickly because when you try to call white people out on their racism, they tend to feel bad about it, but not bad that they were doing something racist, instead bad that they were called out for doing something they liked that happened to be racist. As I’ve stated before already, white people tend to care more about being called out for being racist and how that makes them feel than they do about making their spaces safer for POC and how they feel about experiencing racism.

But these white systems very often don’t get called out for their racism because 1) most of these spaces are so hostile to SOC that they tend not to join spaces like this, or when they do, they stay quiet out of fear of being demonized, harassed, and kicked out of these spaces, and 2) this would mean that the other white systems in that space would feel bad and have to work on their own racism, especially if the system doing the calling out in the first place is also white, and as we’ve already established, that’s just too much work for these poor, mentally ill, neurodivergent, LGBT systems, and it’s not like they don’t experience discrimination too! What, are you demeaning the struggles of mentally ill, neurodivergent LGBT people by asking me to do some inner-reflection on my own subconscious, racist biases and actively work on them to make my space and the spaces I’m in safer for people and systems of color?

The answer is no, obviously. You are not having your struggles demeaned and shit on by SOC who are just trying to speak out and make spaces safer for themselves, because there are mentally ill, neurodivergent, LGBT systems of color, too, and to act like SOC/POC are some monolith in which they can’t be these things and that they are persecuting you for asking one of your alters to use a different name, at least online, because it muddies the meaning of that name in their culture for the sake of white people’s aesthetics and how /they/ identify is racist.

This really is one of the few instances where my current blog title, ‘If you feel attacked, you’re part of the problem’, is more than applicable, because it’s true. White people feel attacked for being called out for their racism, and I’ve said this several times before, but I feel it must be reiterated at every instance I can get so that I can drill it into the skulls of other white people, but white people more often than not care more about being /accused/ of being racist than they actually do about the rights and safety and comfort of people of color, which is why even so many leftist/’progressive’ spaces, feminist spaces, spaces for mental illness support, LGBT support and pride, support for the homeless, and many more, online and in real life tend to be so white across the board, and this still rings very true in system spaces.

Validity culture and racism very, very often go hand-in-hand, with primarily white spaces validating other white people for their racism because facing the idea that they might be racist makes them feel bad, as if SOC/POC don’t already feel terrible enough actually having to experience racism on a daily basis.

Parethnicity: Are Alters Actually a Race Outside of the Body?

The short answer to this question: No. Obviously. No, alters/headmates are not actually a race outside of the body, no matter how hard you want to believe this, no matter how offended it makes you, no matter how defensive you get, nothing will be able to change the race you actually are in the body you’re living in because it’s the first thing anyone notices about you when looking at you.

But here’s the long answer, for those who want to understand more, since I know everyone else is just going to come into my inbox and tell me I’m a terrible person:

One of the biggest ways this hostile behavior towards SOC manifests, especially behavior number 2 in that list, is in the form of anime introjects claiming to be actually Japanese in the headspace, partaking in Japanese culture, speaking Japanese and missing/wishing to be a part of Japanese culture/home ‘again’.

The thing a lot of these people and their systems aren’t going to be happy about hearing is that these alters/headmates are not actually, literally those characters and they are especially not actually, literally Japanese. But that doesn’t stop entitled white people from trying to claim to be, or trying to create new terms for themselves to describe a common experience that doesn’t need to be labelled with a confusing and racist/racially weird as hell label that, frankly, doesn’t need to exist because of everything it implies.

Enter: ‘Parethnicity’.

‘Parethnicity’ is the term referring to an alter that identifies as a race or ethnicity outside of the body’s race or ethnicity.

First off, ‘ethnicity’ and ‘race’ are two entirely different things, so the term ‘parethnicity’ is already extremely inaccurate and offensive on that front, and that’s /ignoring/ the fact that it’s a term primarily for white systems to claim races and experiences that they are not a part of.

Secondly, they created another term to go along with it, ‘parethnophobia’, which is doubly offensive because it implies that alters modeled after a specific race outside of the body can experience oppression for a race that they simply, straight up are not, which is absolutely not how it works.

See, a term needs an ‘-ism’ or ‘-phobia’ term when oppression against a minority group reaches a point where it’s so severe on a systemic level that language is required to describe that oppression, the oppression that is getting them killed, ostracized, denied homes, denied jobs, denied medical care, forcibly sterilized, physically attacked and harassed, even in public, especially where attacks like this can be validated by other people in the area, and more, all just for being a member of this specific minority.

‘Parethnic’ alters are not, in any way, shape or form, a group of people that are so significantly oppressed in a systematic way that it needs a term to describe the specific oppression against them because they aren’t a minority and they aren’t oppressed in any way for anything relating to their ‘parethnicity’.

‘-Phobia’s and ‘-ism’s are added to words to give voices to the voiceless, to give words to help these people understand what’s happening to them and so they can help themselves and others fight against what’s happening to them. Not for entitled white kids in system spaces to claim that they have a ‘black alter’. Because 99% of the time, this doesn’t get you persecuted by /anyone/. Most of the time, it’ll just get a white singlet, sometimes even a white system, asking you if you can say the n-word, which I can only hope to god that you said ‘no’ to. That’s not oppression, that’s just an annoyance for us, as white people. On the flipside, a SOC telling you that you can’t use the n-word in a white body because you’re in a white body and your ‘black alter’ isn’t actually black, they’re just a subconscious projection of what you think a black person is and acts like, also isn’t oppression. That’s a fact.

You might not want to hear this, but the thing about alter race is that if you are an alter in a white body that identifies as a race outside of the body, or is otherwise made to look like a race outside of white (when you’re in a white body), you still aren’t actually that race. You have never actually experienced racism and you never actually will, because you exist in a white body and the first thing that people are ever going to notice about you is your skin color, and the facts are: your skin is white. Even if you have (pseudo/exo)memories of experiencing racism, those memories are not applicable to the life you’re living right now, and you cannot ethically or reasonably claim those experiences without speaking over actual POC and SOC on things they experience every single day of their lives.

You have to be aware of the context of the life you’re living right now, and the context is that you’re in a white body and you are the oppressor here now. If anything, you should be enjoying and thankful for the privilege of being able to be white and ignorant of the horrors of actually having to be a person of color.

A Real Life Example and Analysis: Whi-T

This is the longest section of the post, and could be skipped to the TL;DR if you don’t have time to read it all, but if you have the time for an analysis of arguments used against people of color calling out racism in spaces they’re in and you want to understand why some arguments are bad and even racist, and generally how white people act in situations where they are called out on racism and racist behavior, I suggest you read it in full.

I have a very good real-life example of the kind of hostility and entitlement a lot of white systems, especially those with anime introjects, tend to have bubble up in discussions about racism, from a discord server I’m in, starring an introject of a Japanese anime character in a white body that for the sake of their privacy, we will call T.

The discussion begins in a discourse channel within a discord server I’m in.

A friend of mine, S, is part of a bodily Japanese system, and they begin the discussion by asking the channel how they feel about systems who are not bodily Asian having alters with names that are explicitly Asian. T says they never thought about it in depth, but S says that they find it pretty offensive to their culture, specifically mentioning that it’s offensive to them because they and people from their culture get made fun of for their names, while white people get to pick and choose the ones they think are cute and ‘aesthetic’ and get praised for it online, despite these names having a lot of cultural significance in how they are chosen and the meanings behind them.

T jumps into the conversation again and says that they think it’s fine, because, quote, ‘it’s a name and people can choose whatever name they want but again it’s not my culture so not my choice’. Notice them inserting their opinion, and then tacking on the last bit about it not being their culture, so it’s not their choice. They know that they don’t have a say in it as someone who is not Japanese, but they decide to insert their own opinion anyways, speaking over an actual Japanese system to do so. It’s already clear that T did not come into this conversation to debate, they came in to assert their (white) opinion to speak over an actual Japanese system, so they could continue to validate their own racism and the racism of other white people, especially white people in that server.

The next string of messages between T and S go something along the lines of S saying that ‘it’s not just a name it holds high importance to the culture and the culture is closed’, and continuing to reiterate that cultural appropriation is bad, even in systems and even if alters cannot control how they form, and T has the compelling argument of ‘i feel like anyone can choose a name they can feel comfortable with if it represents them. but again not my culture /gen’. Their arguments don’t really branch out much further than them just repeatedly saying this, and something along the lines of ‘that’s gatekeepy and iffy to me, but not my culture so it’s totally not my choice and I don’t get a say, even though I’m actively trying to give myself a say anyways /gen’.

What’s really important to note here is T’s usage of tone tags, and how maliciously deliberate that can be in demonizing people of color trying to speak out against racism in online communities they’re a part of.

Tone tags have become very normalized, to the point where it feels expected for people to use them because it’s polite, which is fine, but when discussing things like this with systems of color I know personally, they very often feel extremely pressured to use tone tags just to soften themselves and how they actually feel about a situation just to appear palatable and not (justifiably) angry with neurodivergent white people being /racist/ towards them, otherwise these white people will blow up and throw a shitfit, they’ll accuse you of ‘mini-modding’, their RSD will flare up and they’ll feel too bad for being called out for their racism and change their statuses to ‘DNI’ and make their profile pictures black.

The fact that T is using tone tags this early on in the conversation is less of a way to soften their tone and more of way to set S up later in the conversation, so they can accuse S of being aggressive and needing to step back from the conversation when they’re just being blunt and mildly assertive, just because S didn’t use tone tags. Even if this is unintentional, this is a manner of T trying to make themselves seem nicer, like they are the innocent one and S is attacking them for no reason, so that S’s blunt and vaguely assertive tone could suddenly seem a lot more aggressive to other white people.

T says that it’s a little ‘iffy’ to them that a Japanese person is uncomfortable with appropriation of their culture, and says it’s because if they identify with a name, T doesn’t feel it’s their responsibility or right to correct them on how they identify just because it would make themselves uncomfortable. The usage of using words like ‘identify’ when talking about cultural appropriation is a way to make system experiences seem like LGBT experiences, when I’ve already said in previous posts that the two are nowhere near the same. When discussing alter race in systems, it’s a lot more complicated than just ‘identifying’ as something, because alters can and do identify as all sorts of things, to the point where they get dysmorphia when they don’t look the way they do in the inner world, I get something like this as my appearance in the inner world doesn’t match up with the body. This doesn’t mean I actually am what I look like in the inner world, similar to how littles in systems aren’t actual children and animal alters aren’t actual animals, and it would be somewhat inappropriate to treat them this way, especially if they don’t want to be treated this way.

Culture is a lot more than just ‘identifying’ as something, it’s something you’re either born into or taken from, a birthright, something that is passed down to you for generations and often times these cultures that belong to people of color get taken from them by white people, who only take the parts they like for the ‘aesthetic’ and muddy their actual meanings to the people in this culture, which leads to a fetishization and misrepresentation of these actual cultures.

Another thing to address in this poor argument is the usage of the word ‘uncomfortable’. Notice how T uses this term to demean the struggles of POC who are threatened by cultural appropriation and cultural theft. They use this term, ‘uncomfortable’, to describe actual racism to demean what actual racism is and try to boil it down to people of color in closed cultures simply being ‘uncomfortable’ with people outside of their race and culture stealing aspects of their culture, fetishizing them for themselves and demonizing the actual POC who actively love and partake in said culture.

S says that it’s more than just being uncomfortable and T says, ‘it makes you uncomfortable yes?’ They say this in an attempt to twist S’s words and continue to demean POC’s struggles with cultural appropriation.

These arguments are incredibly malicious and are made to shut down POC who even remotely try to speak out about racism.

T continues to twist S’s wording by saying ‘so you’re telling them they cannot have a name. that’s iffy to me-’ and when they are questioned on why they feel entitled to speak over an actual Japanese person on this subject, they say that S wanted to debate, and they’re just debating, (again, with tone tags ‘/nm’ and ‘/gen’), but I would disagree strongly. This isn’t them debating with S, this is them intentionally twisting their words to get around being accused of being racist, trying to shut down an actual POC on the subject of racism and cultural appropriation, and pretending to be innocent about it when they very obviously aren’t.

At this point, another white system has joined the conversation, let’s call them B, and they argue on T’s side, saying that S is trying to take away a person’s ‘right’ to identify with and have a name, again, twisting the wording and it’s another example of white people validating the racism of other white people because they’re uncomfortable with changing or admitting that they could’ve done something wrong.

T and B continue to argue with S, essentially claiming that S is gatekeeping their own culture and how people identify, and trying to take people’s names from them, and S saying that it is literally, actually racism and cultural appropriation, while T and B have no other arguments other than ‘that’s iffy’.

C is another SOC who is a friend of mine that joins the conversation on S’s side, saying that T and B should listen to people who have experience with racism and cultural appropriation, and they are completely ignored by everyone except for S, like, several times.

T brings back up the argument of ‘well you wanted to debate and I’m just debating’ despite their arguments not being intelligent or coherent enough to qualify as an actual debate while S, /again/, tries to state the fact that it’s /literal cultural appropriation/, and are once again, spoken over and ignored. S brings up the fact that T is repeatedly disregarding their arguments and speaking over them, and T, bafflingly, again says that they’re just ‘debating’ and, even better, that if they can’t handle a ‘debate’, then they shouldn’t be ‘debating’, when it’s clear to every SOC in the chat that this is not actual debating, this is twisting the words of and silencing SOC, and it only gets worse from here.

This is only the beginning of trying to portray S as the aggressive, antagonistic SOC.

S states how they feel, saying that they are being talked over and ignored and disregarded by white people in the discussion, and and T tries to say that they’re not ignoring them or disregarding their opinion and that they’re listening and just ‘stating [their] opinion’, and proceeds to tell S that they think S needs to step back, saying that they’re getting defensive and aggressive when they clearly aren’t, but S apologizes for potentially coming off that way anyways.

T then sends a couple of messages that form into an argument that essentially boils down to two direct quotes: ‘[...] but you cannot tell someone what to do and expect them to listen’, and the far more baffling take of ‘a lot of people say a lot of things are “closed” when they just don’t want to share their culture.’

The second one baffles me the most because... That’s the basis of a closed culture? What do you think a closed culture is, exactly? You think that Native Americans are so closed off to outsiders about their culture because someone is forcing them to be? NO! It’s because white people have stolen their culture, misrepresented it, disrespected it and muddied its meaning so much that they don’t want to share it anymore. They did share it in the past, but actively made the choice not to because of how shitty outsiders have been to them about their culture! That’s the basis of a closed culture or practice!

Then, when another POC, M, in the chat says that T is blatantly disregarding POC and that people can just be decent and not culturally appropriate when it’s brought to their attention that they are, and T gives us another absolute gem of an argument that, as usual, makes so little sense and is full of an unbelievable amount of ignorance:

‘you can’t expect people to be decent, humans are crap.’

Ah, yes, cultural appropriation is okay and its okay for white people to not listen to POC when they’re calling out white people for these things because *reads writing on hand* ‘humans are crap’. Alrighty then.

S goes on to say that there’s a difference between cultural appropriation and respecting other cultures boundaries, such as eating Japanese food and still respecting said culture and not stealing from it, but T misinterprets this and asks how having a name that S ‘disagrees with’ would be cultural appropriation, and the next exchange is pure gold:

S: i don't disagree with the name? it's cultural appropriation because your taking a name which isn't yours to use.

M: ^^

T: on what grounds? who’s says we can’t use it? /gen /nm cause if it’s just you, no offense but nobody is gonna listen

K, (part of C’s system): Respectfully, T, you're being kinda rude lmao.

M: POC, BIPOC, we say that..../gen

T [in reply to K]: no I’m debating, if you can’t handle it don’t debate /gen /nm

S says that multiple POC agree with them on the subject, and K then goes on to say to T that ‘debating isn’t grounds to be an asshole’. T responds saying that the ‘we’ S is referring to is just two people and threatens to mute K and says that they aren’t being rude, they’re asking questions, as if the two are mutually exclusive. M and S try to tell T that it’s not just them in this obscure discord server that are saying this, but tons of actual, real-life POC, systems or otherwise, and T says that ‘you can’t say what people can and can’t name their kids/themselves :]’.

The best part comes when K and S say that T is the one being rude now despite having gotten onto them earlier for being ‘rude’ and that is when T decides that the debate is over suddenly, saying ‘debate over you all are to upset over my opinion’, and says ‘another message and i’m muting’, and when M says ‘You sure we are the ones that are mad?’ T responds with ‘yes cause you don’t like my opinion. now debate over or I’m shutting the channel down :] /gen /nm’ and forces the discussion to be over.

TL;DR

T didn’t come into this discussion looking for a debate, they came in to assert their opinion by twisting the words of POC, shutting down their arguments, misunderstanding closed cultures and threatening to mute people and shut down the channel, all while using tone tags to make themselves seem a lot more innocent than they actually were, and to paint the POC who weren’t using them as angry and aggressive.

T is an insidiously racist person who only cares about their own comfort and not the comfort and safety of the POC in their own server.

In short, these are the kinds of arguments that white people tend to use, and the kind of entitlement that white people tend to bring to the table when brought up in discussions like this, especially when they’re in a position to silence the POC that are speaking out against them just because they have better arguments than them.

Don’t be like T.

What Now?

So, if you feel attacked, think about why. Because it probably comes from a place of not wanting to face your racism or change your ways because you care more about your own comfort than the comfort, safety and protection of people of color, and you need to remedy that.

This can actually very easily get started just by talking to people of color in general, following them on social media, watching their content on youtube, even if they’re singlets, even if they post things unrelated to mental health and plurality/multiplicity content, even if it’s ‘just’ videogame streams or art or music or etc, because even then you’re supporting a content-creator of color. Of course, that’s not all you have to do, again, that’s just a start, but following and supporting POC on social media and such does so much to help your subconscious views of POC in general that it’s a good idea to just do it anyways.

Oh, and changing the names and negatively stereotypical traits of alters/headmates that appear to be from races and closed cultures outside of the body, and listening to POC when they speak up, and not getting defensive when they tell you that you’ve done something racist and calling your white friends, systems or otherwise, out on their racism and their internal racist biases and etc.

It’s hard, but if you don’t want to do these things, you can always just take the ‘BLM’ and ‘anti-racist’ out of your bio, because you don’t actually support any of these things, you just support these things performatively as long as they benefit you to do so and make you look good.

Sincerely,

Remy

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ficforce · 3 years

Text

Gokai Part 1

Konro x Reader

SFW

The sun was barely up when Konro left the guardhouse, he gave a yawn and rubbed his eyes, despite having always been an early riser he sometimes took a while to get his bearings. Often his body ached first thing, especially his shoulders and neck, he found that taking a patrol around the neighbourhood was a good way to limber up and check on things. Asakusa had been peaceful lately; Benimaru was behaving like a real Captain and the girls were giving him a break from their games. As he headed through the streets Konro greeted a few of the vendors as they set up for breakfast, a few of them telling him to come back soon so they could treat him to something, he stopped to speak with the night watch as they headed for the guardhouse. By this point, the sun had risen just enough into the sky to give the streets a golden hue.

As he headed toward the river a sound caught his attention, it wasn’t something he was used to in this particular area and he vaguely recognised it as the sound of wood hitting wood.

Clack, clack, clack.

He knew that sound, it was oddly nostalgic and his feet led him toward it, the constant clack, clack, clack became louder until he found himself in a small courtyard shared by the houses there. Silently he watched the back of the stranger - he was confident he knew nearly everyone is Asakusa some way or another - as they struck the side of a young tree over and over with a wooden practice sword.

They had poor form, he noted, they were wasting energy and movement in every strike, it was painful to watch and he cleared his throat to announce his presence before he could be tempted to take the stick from them. The other person paused and turned slowly to face him, he had already figured it was a woman by the clothes she was wearing, her expression seemed somewhat annoyed at being disturbed, “Did that tree piss you off?” He had never been one to start on a negative.

“Konro.” The Lieutenant answered as he walked a little closer and gestured to her practice sword, “You’re gripping it too hard, you should also decide whether you want to use a one-handed or two-handed grip.” He had seen her swap a few times, “Personally, I think two-handed would suit you better.”

Her expression softened and she gave a small breathless laugh at his question, she walked a few feet away from the tree and picked up a water bottle she had left there. Now that he could see her a little better, Konro realised her clothing was from the city, it was machine finished and had that synthetic look to it, not something often seen worn by the local Asasukians. “It’s winning,” she replied after getting her breath back, “Who knew swinging this thing around would be so exhausting, every hit makes my teeth rattle in my head.”

She made no secret of looking him up and down, her eyes lingered on the blue stripes on his pants that identified him as a Fire Soldier, the thing that caught her attention though, was the hilt of his sword on his hip - a real sword. Her grip tightened on her practice sword and she felt suddenly self-conscious that he had been watching. “I, uh… I’m Y/N.”

Not too proud to listen to him, Y/N tilted her head curiously, “And why’s that?”

“The way you place the weight in your feet and legs,” Y/N had a few of the basics down but there were things she could do to make it easier, “You would also double your effect with half the effort. If you have strong wrists and arms you might get away with one-handed…” Konro leaned against the tree she had been assaulting, “Also, it’s my biased personal preference.”

“You look like you know what you’re talking about,” Y/N took another drink from her bottle, “So, how bad am I? Out of ten?”

He didn’t even have to think, “Two.”

Y/N let out a peal of laughter at his blunt honesty, he had just massacred her in one word. At the same time though… he didn’t make her feel inadequate or embarrassed, he wasn’t being arrogant - just honest. “As high as that?”

Y/N supposed she had been too eager to start practising, “I’ll try that out, thanks.” She had only changed a few things but she could already tell the difference.

Konro couldn’t help smiling at her and shrugging slightly, “One point for holding it by the right end and the second point for effort.” He asked her to take up her stance again and stepped to her side, “You’re too loose with your upper body and you’re holding on too tight, relax your grip, take a deep breath and hold that posture…” The man watched her follow his advice and then he parroted the stance, “When you swing your sword, use your whole body, move your feet, follow it through…”

They practised together for a few minutes, he corrected her few times, small pointers that she took on board right away, “I know it’s tempting to hit something, it used to drive me mad when I was a kid, striking at thin air, same speed, same angle, same distance. Over and over and over, hours and hours until it was as natural as breathing, even until I couldn’t lift my arms anymore. Air can be as tough as any tree when you’re starting out.”

“Not a problem, if you’re here tomorrow I could show you a few other things.”

— -

Every morning from early spring, Konro would get up at dawn, as he always did, and head toward the river. That time of day allowed him to appreciate Asakusa in the gentle morning light, his beloved home quiet for a few scant hours before it would become rowdy and alive with its colourful inhabitants. The only difference to his walk was his new detour, he met with Y/N in the courtyard. Konro would tease her for her lack of skill but he always encouraged her with advice and pointers, he showed her a practice routine to follow through - only giving her more when she became better at the routine.

Through their playful banter, Konro was able to learn more about her. He discovered that she was from the city and that she had no love for the place she grew up in. She didn’t like the way the Church and big corporations ran everything, she expressed how she felt like a cog in a massive machine, an insignificant piece that worked a broken society. She had friends who were proto-nationalist, they had invited her on a tour around other groups and eventually on a day trip to Asakusa.

If people didn’t rely on it, then maybe they could break further away from the Empire’s influences and think more for themselves.

He had felt some pride when she revealed to him that she had fallen in love with the Town in that single day. That it had snapped her out of the dull, everyday life she had in the city and showed her that there was more to life than following everyone else. Y/N found him easy to talk to, she felt safe enough to share a few of her childhood fantasies - How she had wanted to do Kendo as a child but her parents hadn’t let her. It didn’t suit the plans they had for her life.

They had wanted her to study, get a good job, meet a man, have some kids… She had postponed as much as she could by specialising in studies for energy sources other than Ameratsu.

Asakusa had been a new start for Y/N. She had hoped it would provide a simpler, happier life for her, maybe her skills could be useful to the Town, for the time being, she had taken a job in one of the busier bars. She had left her engineering positions behind in the city, she had faced her parent’s disappointment and broken off the engagement to a man who she had thought she loved but had really settled for. She wasn’t ready to get married for the sake of society’s norms.

“Wrong,” Konro called out as she made a downward slash, it lacked strength and wasn’t anywhere close to a consistent angle, he watched her repeat the action and called her out on it again, she was way off balance. He could see her getting frustrated at herself and shifted his weight to his other foot, “Take up a basic stance. Always, always go back to the basics before you get too absorbed in bad technique.”

He was nowhere near as strict as his teacher had been with him, he wasn’t even close to the ruthless way he trained kid Benimaru out of bad habits.

She couldn’t think of a single person she had ever spoken to saying a bad word about him. Early on she had learned that Sagamiya Konro was well-loved and respected in Asakusa.

“I am!” Y/N snapped back, “I keep going back to the start, I’m doing it over and over! It’s just not doing what I want it to do and telling me to go back to basics isn’t helping me!” She wanted to throw the practice sword to the ground and scream.

It wasn’t the training and it certainly wasn’t Konro that she was frustrated with, she had so many things going on with adjusting to her new job as a generator technician and gaining the trust of the old men who reluctantly hired her, it was hard to concentrate on practice. Her expression was tense, a frown tugging at her lips as she looked over at the man, Konro showed no sign of being upset with her, he was patient as always. He was always kind to her, he often made her laugh and he was a good listener.

When he had flippantly revealed that he was the Fire Force’s Lieutenant her jaw had dropped. He had so many other things he could be doing but every morning, for two hours a day, he came to teach her. It wasn’t just her he had time for, from the little kids in the street that barely reached his knees to the old folk who remembered him as a baby - he had time.

Konro talked her through the move, he guided her with his hands until she was able to do it on her own and stepped back, “Good… I think that’ll do for today.”

“…Take up your first stance.” Konro told her firmly, he got up from where he had been watching her and stood behind her, “We’re gonna get a little cosy, Y/N, don’t take advantage of me.”

Before she could think of a quip or even laugh at his words, Konro’s chest was pressed to her back, his arms followed the line of hers and he covered her hands with his own, “Get rid of that tension, whatever it is annoying you, throw it to the side for now.” Y/N was surprised by how warm he was, even through their clothing she could feel his warmth seeping into her skin, his voice was so close to her ear that she had to resist a shiver rolling up her spine - he smelt so good… “Concentrate, Y/N.” There was a hint of amusement in his tone and she wanted to elbow him in the ribs.

Y/N nodded, she felt calmer as his warmth lingered around her.

— -

Six months had passed since Y/N had moved to Asakusa.

She didn’t regret a single thing, the people there now treated her like she was family, very few people gave her trouble for being an outsider anymore and she embraced their old country ways gladly. The first time she had tried on a yukata she hadn’t wanted to change out of it, it was comfortable and there were so many ways to wear it. She had adopted the styles of the women her age, something easy to move in with Asakusa’s flare for haoris. The food was always good, she had her favourite street stalls and had caused a small fire in her home when trying her hand at cooking, it had been her kid neighbour who had put it out and given her lecture on fire safety. And despite her initial shyness of the public bathhouse, she had learned to love those too. There was nothing like hanging out with a bunch of other naked women in a hot pool gossiping about who was doing what and with who.

She had attended and enjoyed her first festival at the peak of summer, it had been memorable for a few reasons…

Although his uniform made him appear bigger than he was, Y/N wasn’t disappointed to see that he was still quite broad and toned, he had worn a striped, navy blue yukata that matched his eyes. He had looked so masculine and the woman couldn’t help but be reminded again that he smelt so damn good as he kept her close to him on their way through the crowds.

It had been the first time she met Hinata and Hikage, Konro had spoken about the little girls fondly on several occasions and Y/N had been excited to meet them - she hadn’t quite expected their enthusiasm. The twins had bombarded her with questions, they had criticised her outfit choice and harassed her until she had crouched down for them to change her hair to their liking, afterwards they had dragged her around to play every game, try every festival food and every activity going on during the night.

The thing she remembered most, that played in her mind whenever she had time to indulge, was seeing Konro out of uniform for the first time. His usual clothing exaggerated his bulk and was extremely practical. He had materialised out of the crowds of people to rescue her from the twins. It had also been the first time Y/N had seen the Lieutenant with his hair loose, he had looked so handsome with one side of his hair swept up with a simple comb, she had barely restrained herself from running her hands through the silky looking strands.

Y/N vaguely remembered meeting Shinmon Benimaru. It was hard to recall when all she could think about was Konro’s warm, comforting hands on her lower back and Konro’s laughter as he spoke with the Townsfolk. Since then it had been difficult for her to concentrate when he met her in the morning for practice.

Winter snuck in and the days were getting shorter, her breath now misted in the morning air as she swung the wooden sword with relative ease, her fingers would go numb as the temperature remained cold well into the afternoon. It was a particularly chilly morning when Konro shocked her by drawing his sword and offering it to her.

It should have been something that excited her, she should have wanted to make a grab for it without a second thought but Y/N hesitated. It was such a beautiful sword, finely made, everything perfectly polished and balanced - it had been crafted for him and him only.

Y/N knew how he treasured it, she remembered him showing her once before as he taught her about each piece that made the whole sword. He knew the people who had painstakingly created each part and how long the work had taken, he went as far as to teach her how to keep in from tarnishing. He had worked long and hard to first master swordsmanship and then to be able to pay for such a thing. Konro was very proud of it, even though he was a third-generation fire soldier who had been incredibly strong, he had still trained his whole life fro weird the sword he was offering to her.

“You should at least learn how a real one feels in your hand.” He wished he had his camera, the face Y/N was pulling was absolutely priceless and he was humbled by her appreciation of what he held.

“Konro,” her fingers twitched, wanting so badly to take it, but she fisted her hands and looked up at him with a slightly concerned wrinkle between her eyebrows, “I’m terrified I’ll damage it.”

He smiled at her trepidation, “I trust you, Y/N.”

For a moment, the cold air she had breathed in so suddenly became trapped in her lungs, it stung. It felt like an icy hand around her heart and it made it difficult for her to breathe. When she looked up from the sword and into the man’s warm gaze, the feeling melted away. His eyes were so soft as he looked back that she felt his usual warmth seem to seep into everything from her toes to her frozen fingertips, the cold air in her chest evaporated and her heart beat a little faster.

She had never felt like that before.

Sure, it was just a sword. It could be replaced or mended if she damaged it but he dared to offer her something so precious to him and say that he trusted her with it… it was too much for her to handle.

Not even with the man she had once settled on getting engaged to.

Everything before Asakusa had been for convenience, to follow a routine that everyone else was following. Education, a job, marriage, children, getting old comfortably… forcing that routine on her own children.

Never had anyone so sincerely said that they trusted her.

“Konro.” Y/N murmured almost shyly as she reached for the hilt, her fingers curled around it hesitantly and she lifted it from his hold. It had a comfortable weight to it, lighter than she had expected and balanced perfectly. She was a little starstruck to be holding a real sword that belonged to a real swordsman, she felt her breath stutter a little as she felt the subtle wear in the silk braid that wrapped the hilt - worn there by his hands over time…

“Try swinging it, I swear it’s not going to shatter, Y/N, you don’t have to be that careful.” When she continued to stand frozen to the spot, the man stepped up behind her and covered her chilled hands with his, he was always warm because of his ignition abilities and her body absorbed it gladly. He noted that she tensed in his hold and put it down to her anxiousness over handling his sword, “We’ll go with an upward movement to start, then I’ll show you how to do a reverse… swing…” Konro’s words trailed off as he felt her head move, she looked up at him and he angled his head down to better see her expression.

Konro had thought that maybe she had a question or some objection but he hadn’t thought for a second that she would lean up that extra few centimetres and kiss him.

Her lips were soft on his, the touch was almost shy to begin and as she became a little braver he felt her kiss him a little more persistently. Konro didn’t move. He didn’t kiss her back and after a few seconds, he felt Y/N pull away slowly and duck her head to avoid his gaze. Konro carefully stepped away from her, the cold air wrapped around them both as soon as they were apart and he paused for a moment to think about his next words…

“Y/N…” He didn’t want to hurt her, “I’m flattered, really I am, but-”

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself and looked at him with a tense, forced smile, “I’m freezing!” She said a little too loudly, “I better head back inside - I’ll see you around, okay?” The woman fled as quickly as she could, running toward home all the while berated herself for misreading the signals, for humiliating herself like that. The icy chill in the air made it difficult to tell if her tears were from the cold or her narrowly escaped rejection.

#sagamiya konro #reader #fire force #enen no shouboutai #enn enn no shouboutai

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sourwormsaresour · 3 years

Note

what are your thoughts on La Squadra's sexualities?

First off, Happy Pride Month! Please have a safe one. Before I start, I just want to let you guys know that I’m a straight cisgender woman so I’m not 100% knowledgeable on sexualities so these are based on my current knowledge of the community. I’m open to all head-canons about La Squadra’s sexualities besides my own :)

Sorbet and Gelato are gay, both using he/him pronouns, and are the most out compared to everyone in the team. Even though La Squadra knew about their relationships, the two themselves aren’t open about it outside of the team and their families. This is especially because relationships can be used against you in the crime world but also because their families rely on them to have a “good reputation” to live comfortably. I head-canon that they are both breadwinners of their families: Gelato has siblings that go to very conservative, academic institutions and rely on scholarships that look into family history for recommendations, and Sorbet’s mother requires medical attention from reputable doctors that also have homophobic biases that can be used against her. They’ve secretly used some of their money to help a street kid or two that they learned was disowned after being outed or assassinated a few people for hurting kids for being part of the LGBTQ+ community or even preying on them. The two men probably both went through phases where they thought they only liked women, tried to be in heterosexual relationships, and their enemies-to-lovers type of relationship had probably stemmed from their inability to properly process their attraction to each other at the time.

Formaggio is bisexual and prefers using he/him pronouns; he has a stronger attraction to women but is unaware that he’s attracted to men as well. A big part of why he’s so unaware or in denial of it came from his conservative upbringing in a working-class family and lack of representation growing up. Formaggio knew that men can be attracted to other men, but other aspects of the LGBTQ+ community is either unknown to him or seen in a negative perception; he’s learning more about the community and how to be a better ally, especially after meeting Sorbet and Gelato, but he’s still struggling to reverse the anti-LGBTQ+ sentiments he grew up believing. As a result of his past, Formaggio assumed that one can only be attracted to one gender and never crossed his mind that people can be attracted to more than one. He often tries to hide his attraction to men via “straight guy who’s unaware he’s gay occasionally spits homophobic jokes and says ‘no homo’ every time he says "I love you" to his friends but he means full homo” approach.

Illuso is pansexual and gender fluid, preferring he/him/they/them pronouns most of the time but also likes using neo-pronouns and occasionally prefers to use she/her pronouns. As a former intern for a fashion designer before he joined La Squadra, he’s relatively more exposed to meeting different people in the LGBTQ+ community through fashion; those who were higher in status and power would be more out about it than those in lower ranking and the community was a huge source for avant-garde, counter-culture influences. Despite getting more inspiration for his designs from his interactions and developing his identity in the LGBTQ+ space, that also led to him witnessing discrimination, abuse, and powerplay caused by the higher-ups; some became victims simply because of rumors that they may be part of the LGBTQ+ community or being forcibly outed, some are forced into relationships in exchange for opportunities and privileges, etc. He remains closeted and part of his arrogance stems from him hiding his sexuality due to the trauma of enduring the abuse and witnessing it as well. La Squadra doesn’t know his sexuality or know that he’s genderfluid, but they’re fine with adapting to his pronouns whenever they change.

Pesci is unaware that they’re gay and are non-binary that prefers they/them pronouns. Although they try to stick to he/him pronouns to avoid being out, they like using they/them more and get secretly happy when someone refers to them as such. I head-canon that they’re actually younger than Giorno when they encountered Team Bucciarati, which would explain why he never killed anyone up until this point (they’re a literal kid that’s slowly getting involved in the team when Sorbet and Gelato were killed, albeit they’re on the buffer side despite their age), and with their sheltered childhood and Prosciutto’s strict mentorship, they never got to sit down and think about their sexual and gender identity. They often try to pretend they’re a macho straight man alongside Formaggio but they end up feeling bad about it after trying to say a bad comment or joke to fit in. Pesci themselves feel like they’re alone in terms of the emotions of not being able to put your sexuality into words. It doesn’t help that they’re rather isolated compared to everyone except Risotto; they only knew La Squadra as their family ever since they joined the team and they never talk to anyone outside of the group.

Prosciutto is bisexual and genderfluid, preferring to identify with he/him pronouns, but he’s also the most closeted and probably has the most internalized homophobia as well. Growing up in the entertainment industry, especially in acting, means adhering to heteronormative standards; controversies of any kind would make or break a career and he constantly heard homophobic statements “disguised” as critiques around him from all levels of the entertainment industry. The fact that he was overworked up until his “career retirement” also didn’t give him the time to sit down and realize both his sexuality and how fucked up the film industry is in terms of its treatment towards the LGBTQ+ community. With his upbringing of being presentable and hiding his sexuality, he tries to present himself in the most Italian metrosexual straight machismo man he could and uses his “gentleman charms” towards women to avoid people from questioning further about his sexuality. But at the end of the day, he knows he’s lying to himself about his sexuality. And unfortunately, his anger at being unable to express that is often misdirected.

Melone is demi-sexual, though he presents himself as asexual and panromantic, and prefers using any pronouns. Like his teammates, he prefers using he/him for his safety. As a former scientist, he learned and got to know about the LGBTQ+ community through a more scientific perspective, but also knew there are hidden homophobic biases in the science community as well. Still, he does his best to be an ally for his peers before realizing he is demisexual and panromantic. His sexuality allows him to view the incubation and child-rearing aspect of his Stand without emotions or feelings involved and further explains how he views fornication and training his Juniors in a very scientific and analytical way without guilt taking over. Despite presenting himself as ace/straight (mostly for safety and because it’s easier to explain that he has no attraction to people than being a demisexual), I also see someone who yearns to have a strong emotional connection to someone and would give his all to the person he loves most. His overtly sexual nature is more of an act (I've heard that some aces tend to act overtly sexual, either to avoid being outed or as a result of growing up thinking that need to feel an attraction is necessary) and Melone secretly desires being attracted to someone he learns to trust, admire, and love over time. I have a backstory that plays into that but I might disclose it another time. ;)

Ghiaccio is on the same boat with Prosciutto in terms of having internalized homophobia due to his childhood career as a child athlete. At the time he was training to be an Olympic hopeful as a solo figure skater, Ghiaccio was born female and had to remain in the closet due to the conservative nature of the ice skating world and his step-father being notorious for his opinions favoring homophobia and sexism. Once he joined La Squadra, Ghiaccio began experimenting with himself and ultimately came out as transgender, presenting himself with he/him pronouns, and had been using testosterone ever since. Most members that joined after him only knew Ghiaccio as male while the other members are either indifferent about his gender or are involved in helping Ghiaccio transition to be male. Transitioning also helped him realized he was aromantic and gay, which provided him closure from the years of struggle he had trying to fit into the heteronormative expectations he thought he had to conform to when he was female. The effect of testosterone also explains his brash and short-tempered nature, although that stems more from him finally being able to express himself after years of repressing his emotions as a child.

Risotto is also aromantic and asexual, preferring he/him/they/them pronouns, although he doesn’t know that he is aro/ace, to begin with. Growing up, he never really cared when he heard his older relatives or adults making comments about how “he’d make a good husband” or “have the girls chase him”, because all he cared about was his family and friends. He just assumes that once he becomes a “big boy”, then he’ll have thoughts of wanting to get married like the fairytales say. Just let his future spouse have children with him in any way and he'll play the role of husband regardless. Since his cousin’s death, he gave up the idea of having any sexual or romantic interest in anyone. Why to go out of your way to find any relationship when they’ll be dead soon enough- that was Risotto’s logic. He’s not aware that he can define himself as aro/ace, he just assumes that the trauma he went through with his cousin’s death stops him from feeling any attraction and doesn’t make an effort to figure out why.

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