#anyway all characters must have a cool fall eventually | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misc-obeyme · 10 months

Note

oh!! i absolutely adored the masc tattooed mc you did for the dateables, so i wondered if you'd be okay with doing it for the brothers too? :) it was written so well and cute im so curious to see the brothers' opinions too. hope u have a good day!!

Hey, anon!

I'm so glad you liked that one! I personally enjoyed doing it, so of course I'm happy to do the brothers, too!

Thank you for the request!

the brothers react to heavily tattooed masc!MC who is sweet and kind

Warnings: none!

Lucifer

His instinct is to think you must be a troublemaker. Keeps an eye on you all the time, especially in the beginning. Thinks only rebellious types get that many tattoos. He won't comment on it or anything, but you can tell that he thinks he needs to watch you.

Eventually he discovers that you're incredibly kind and reliable. It occurs to him that he completely misjudged you. Won't ever admit to that, though. His pride won't allow it. But he starts relying on you more in quiet subtle ways. Starts to trust you with things he might not have before.

Gets to the point where he wants to ask you about your tattoos. Brings it up casually in conversation. He finds himself curious about all of your tattoos, MC. Won't you tell him about them? He's trying to pretend that his interest is minimal, but you see right through that.

Lucifer won't ask to see them all, but if you show him all of them anyway, he'll be pleased. He's glad that you're comfortable enough to show them to him, no matter their location on your body. He will listen to your explanation of each one carefully. After this, you'll find he will occasionally brush his fingers along one of them on purpose. It's a small gesture of his affection for you.

Mammon

Completely flustered the second he lays eyes on you. Look at all those tattoos! He is trying desperately to hide the fact that he thinks it's really sexy. Acts like it's no big deal, of course he doesn't think you're super hot! Despite this reaction, he's going to be the first one to ask you about them.

In fact, talking to you about your tattoos is the way in which he discovers how sweet you are. He gets to know you better and sees that you're a really kind guy that just happens to have a lot of tattoos. And now he's really falling hard for you.

Absolutely wants to see them all, but he's too tsundere to ask you. He's still trying to play it cool. You are not fooled, of course. However, it's definitely going to be more fun to let him discover them all for himself. Every time he sees one he hasn't seen before, Mammon blushes profusely and it's really adorable.

There are two ways in which you can make him completely crazy. You can suggest he gets a tattoo that matches one of yours (or get a whole new one just to match with him). Or you can just go out and get a tattoo that is somehow about him. For instance, if you got something that mimicked the white markings he has on his chest in demon form, especially if you incorporated them into your existing tattoos, he'll lose his mind. What're ya doin' to him, MC?!

Leviathan

He has a mixed initial reaction. On the one hand, he's pretty sure tattooed humans are supposed to be scary. On the other hand, you could probably do some really cool cosplays. There are some really awesome tattooed characters! But his nervousness likely wins out until he gets to know you a little better.

Once Levi has discovered your kind personality, he gets more comfortable with you. Then he's going to ask about them. If you have any tattoos that are relevant to his interests, he will absolutely fall in love with them. He might be inspired to get one himself. Starts to design a Ruri-chan themed tattoo. If you get an Azuki-tan you can be sure he'll never get over it.

As he gets to know you, he starts wanting to see more of your tattoos. Absolutely will not ask to see ones that may be beneath your clothing. If you show them to him, he will blush and cover his face. You may have to pull his hands away if you want him to actually look at them. If you have a chest tattoo, he's going to be both flustered and mesmerized.

He will want to touch one, but he won't. Not on purpose. You can tell though, so you might have to initiate that contact. Tell him it's okay, that he can touch your tattoos if he wants. M-MC! Are you sure you want a gross otaku like him touching your beautiful tattoos?! Try not to laugh, even though it's really cute.

Satan

MC. He has noticed your lack of cat-related tattoos. Won't you allow him to show you his designs? If you already have a cat tattoo, he'll be so happy when he sees it, he'll do that thing where he frowns and blushes. He's embarrassed by how much he likes that tattoo of yours.

Unlike everybody else, he's not intimidated by your tattoos at all. He's not as surprised by your sweet personality because he didn't let your appearance cloud his judgment of you. In fact, if you did have a cat tattoo already, he probably fell in love with you the second he saw it.

Satan has likely read a whole bunch of books about tattoos. He might also know about how tattoos can be used in magic spells and the like. If you ask him about it, he will talk to you at length about everything he knows, which turns out to be a surprising amount.

He'll want to see them all, too. Doesn't have any issue asking you directly. Please give him a tattoo tour. He wants to know where all your tattoos are, what they are, and why you have them. He'll touch every single one, if you let him. He's fascinated by the process. Traces his fingers along every line. Only becomes flustered when he realizes what he's doing.

Asmodeus

Oh you have to model with him, MC! You with your tattoos and him just… being himself… you guys would look amazing together! Please come with him to his next photo shoot! He's not at all surprised to find that you're incredibly kind. He knows better than to judge someone based on how they look.

He's smitten with you. He really appreciates when someone is different from the stereotype imposed upon them by how they look. People judge him without knowing him all the time, he's not about to do that to you.

Asmo wants to know about every single tattoo. He will insist on seeing each one. Won't hesitate to touch and kiss them. He'll stop if you ask him to, but if you're okay with it, he's going to want to really get up close and personal. He thinks your body is stunning with all that art on it.

He'll make a whole clothing and makeup line inspired by your tattoos. Often paints your nails to match your tattoos. Let him design a new one for you and he'll be over the moon. He would love nothing more than to add his own personal touch of art to your body permanently.

Beelzebub

He's going to be neutral about it at first. He's not afraid of you or anything, but he's not totally amazed, either. Not until he gets to know you for who you are inside does he start noticing your tattoos. Your kindness draws him in and he finds he wants to know just because he wants to know about you.

He'll ask you about them one day when nothing crazy is going on and it's just the two of you hanging out somewhere. Admits that he's curious because he wants to know more about you. Only show him the ones you're comfortable showing him. He's more interested in what they mean to you.

Beel will certainly be amazed when you tell him about how tattoos happen, assuming the one he has when he's in the human world exists thanks to magic. He's going to frown seriously when he hears about needles and healing time. Might ask you if you ever needed to hold someone's hand while you were getting one done. If you have never done this, he'll offer to come with you for your next one. You might find holding onto someone comforting, MC.

Decides to get a tattoo that matches one of yours. Doesn't use magic, goes with you to the human world to get it done. Asks your help choosing the right one and the right location. Wants to go to your tattoo artist. If you've had multiple, he'll go to whichever one you recommend. Gets it somewhere so he can see it all the time.

Belphegor

Wary of you at first. Not that he finds tattooed people to be scary or anything, just that he kind of subscribes to Lucifer's idea of "likely to be a troublemaker" and that sounds tiring. However, when he finally realizes that you're the sweetest person he's ever met, tattoos or not, he throws all that worry out the window. And considering how Belphie first meets you when he's locked in the attic, he wasn't really that worried to begin with.

Doesn't ask you about them until much later, when you've had a pact with him for a while. He wants to know more about who you are and what they mean to you. He'll be particularly interested in any star-themed tattoos you may have. Especially if you have one of a constellation from the human world.

He won't ask to see them all. You can decide if you show them all to him or not. If you do decide to reveal everything, he's going to be secretly happy that you're sharing them with him. He's actually really fascinated by them. The more he sees of them, the more he likes them. You're already so handsome, MC, but your tattoos really add to it.

He has his favorites and you'll know which ones they are because he'll sneak little kisses on them when he thinks you're distracted. Whenever he naps with you, he can't seem to stop himself from running his fingertips along the design of whatever tattoo is closest to him in that moment. Will absolutely fall asleep doing this.

masterlist | part 1 with the dateables | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #request #anon request #misc writes

142 notes · View notes

jacenotjason · 4 months

Note

Sooooo are all the different ways the characters are tied up symbolic of how Streber has a hold on them, or is it just for cool?

I just think it's interesting Leon's only tied up by part of his leg, meanwhile Dexter is completely untangled (understandable given how unstable he is), and Ross specifically has strings around his neck

YES!!!

ill put the photos here again for anyone that didn't see my last post!

anyways rant time

Let's talk about the Hatzgang first! i had some worry in my discord server that the strings around Ross's neck represented hanging or suicide, but it does not! It represents Streber's hold on his vocal cords, which is somehow grosser honestly. Notice how his little speech bubble is all tangled, too! Streber has control over their words and what they say, they repeat what he says because hes older and cool, and obviously he must know best right? Streber uses them to get word out about something quick and easy.

Dexter! So, for those unaware, in two of the endings Kevin goes out with Dexter. One where Kevin dates him successfully, and one where Dexter murders Kevin. In neither does Kevin actually have feelings for Dexter I have a doc for the endings that i will share eventually idk

Anyways, this entire route is Streber's fault. He plants the idea in Dexter's head that he can date Kevin, gives him Kevin's number and basically pushes the snowball off the mountain, despite knowing Kevin has absolutely no feelings for him.

This is Dexter, reaching desperately for something he can't have.

Rick! Notice how Rick isn't actually tangled? Rick doesn't fall for any of Streber's manipulation, he sees right through it, but... he doesn't care. he doesn't tell anyone if he sees them falling for it, and simply does what Streber asks. He isn't entangled, he's just there.

Leon doesn't have any symbolism, i just wanted to do an upside down one

However I will say! Leon isn't as entangled as anyone else because he doesn't see Streber as much as he did before. He still believes Streber is the persona he met years ago, but Streber doesn't use him anymore. He doesn't need him.

franks doesnt have any either i just thought the idea of his van being entangled was funny

the 31 boys do steal his van in one of the endings so

thank you so much for asking!!

#spooky month #spooky month streber #streber spooky month #the hatzgang #spooky month ross #spooky month robert #spooky month roy #spooky month dexter #spooky month frank #spooky month rick #rick hedony #spooky month leon

27 notes · View notes

darklight-owl · 7 months

Text

The Pale King and The Radiance have so many parallels oh my God-

You don't get it the more I think about it the more these two are literally the same goddamn character in different circumstances and I'm about to list the reasons I know this.

1. Light

Ok let's get the obvious out of the way. Both the Pale King and The Radiance are described as "a light" by the seer, which already implies a connection. (Terms like The Old Light for Radiance and Beacon for Pale King allude to this as well) This could be a physical thing, but it also alludes to the type of power these two hold: both of them are capable of affecting bugs' consciousness.

The Pale King gave them sentience and The Radiance made the Infection. It's unknown whether the Moth Tribe had sentience before the Pale King but considering they were able to harness Essence for themselves it seems likely. Either way the Radiance probably gave them some kind of consciousness before the Pale King showed up.

2. "No Cost Too Great"

Ok so PK may have been the one to say the famous line but it 100% applies to The Radiance as well. Her one motivation is to be remembered, presumably out of self-preservation. To accomplish this she entered bugs' dreams and placed them under a hivemind. Not something we'd call ethical, but hey, neither is killing thousands of your own children to find one with no mind and seal it in a temple.

If we interpret Pale King's intentions as wanting to preserve his kingdom as opposed to keeping more bugs from being infected then he also falls into a similar mentality.

Hollow Knight's biggest theme in general is "all things must come to an end eventually", and The Radiance and the Pale King both cause suffering trying to counter that. One wanting to preserve her memory, the other his kingdom.

3. Overanalyzing their designs

The fuckin horn thingies

Both of these headpieces look like crowns for obvious reasons, but The Radiance's "crown" is a lot smaller, alluding to her status as a fallen deity. (This doesn't mean anything in-universe since thanks to the statue in Crystal Peaks we know she always looked like this, but it's an interesting design choice)

If you wanna look deeper the colors between their eyes and face are inverted

PK gives bugs a mind. Radiance takes it away. They have the same goal and the same power but do the exact opposite. So while PK has a lighter face and darker eyes Radi has a darker face and lighter eyes. This is something they share with the bugs whose minds they've altered; conscious bugs have dark eyes while infected bugs have orange pupils.

I know these details were probably not that deep upon conception but on the off chance they were I wanted to bring them up because they cool.

Anyway in conclusion we have

Similar mind powers

Similar symbolism

Similar desires

Similar "ends justify the means" mentality

We don't get much in the way of actual characterization since we only get like 4 lines out of each of them but their motives and actions seem too similar to not notice.

#THIS TOOK FUCKIN FOREVER #remind me never to say 'i should post about x' again fjdkdj #still glad i got that out of my system though #hollow knight #the radiance #the pale king

31 notes · View notes

taylor-on-your-dash · 28 days

Text

GIRLZ HOLLAND - PUBLISHED ON JANUARY 7, 2011

I'm slowly (very slowly) transcribing Taylor's interviews for my Interviews Timeline, and I came across some interviews in foreign languages on TaylorPictures.net, like this one. This is an experiment, I randomly picked one and I "translated" them with Google Translate (I can translate Italian and German but I can't speak any more languages).

An interesting thing about this interview is Taylor saying that all of her relationship from the previous year had failed. It's crazy to think that All Too Well was in the making. Translation below the cut, and Happy belated Easter!

-The boys lie in rows at your feet. Has it always been that way?

LOVETALK MEETS TAYLOR SWIFT

Taylor Swift (21) is a tough chick who is not afraid to approach nice guys. After relationships with Taylor Lautner and Joe Jonas, she is now often spotted with Jake Gyllenhaal, but Taylor is saying nothing about it for the time being. She does talk a lot about one of her favorite topics: loooove!

-'Not actually, no. I really didn't have much success in love in the past. It was so bad that out of insecurity I paired the boys I liked with my girlfriends. I managed to arrange dates for everyone except myself. The advantage of this was that I became friends with all the boys at school, but on the other hand, that was of course not really fun. Sometimes I fell in love with a boy who mainly saw me as a BFF and then fell in love with someone else. Then I could cry..."

-You must have been very popular at school with all that matching work!

-'No. it was not! The girls at my school were a bit bitchy and they were very jealous because I was so good with the boys. They also bullied me because of my... glasses with thick lenses. I have pretty bad eyesight and was regularly called 'Jampot'. Actually, I didn't really fit in anywhere, because I was very different from all my classmates. I was pretty quiet in class and kept busy writing lyrics. I didn't really care what they thought of me. Somehow I was just sure that I would eventually go further than everyone else.

-Which type of guys do you actually like?

-'I don't have one specific type, but I mainly like guys who have a passion. I find someone who loves his job or is completely absorbed in a certain hobby very attractive. I used to think it was especially cool if a boy had a nice car, wore cool clothes and all that. looked good. Now none of that matters to me anymore. I am especially looking for a boy with a strong character, whom I can trust completely."

-But your famous ex-boyfriends aren't exactly ugly, right?

-'Um… that's true. But I find someone Not really ugly anyway. And of course it's no problem if my future boyfriend is the biggest hunk in town. I just want to point out that the appearance is not the first thing I fall for. On the other hand, Chace Crawford is a guy I won't say no to! In short, like everyone else, appearance is partly decisive for me, but in a bad way I lose character very quickly. And besides, in the end, handsome boys just become old grandpas with dentures."

-Are famous boys an advantage or a turn-off for you?

-That in itself doesn't really matter to me. It usually clicks more quickly with someone who is also in the world. For other boys, my fame is often clearly something puts them off a bit. It makes me very uncomfortable when they find out who I am and then start praising me. Boys who are also in the spotlight will understand that faster. I'd rather be treated like an ordinary girl than a superstar.

-What kind of guys can't stand you?

-'I am very sensitive and I talk a lot. What I really hate are guys who have nothing to say and just say "yes" or "hmm" to everything. Those closed types who don't talk about anything are of no use to you. And what I also find a turn-off are guys who drink a lot and want to go out every weekend. I'm a bit of a homebody and I like it if the other person can be the same every now and then.'

-Do you dare to tell your friends if you don't like their new lover?

-'Absolutely! Isn't that why you're friends? When you are in love, you often look through rose-colored glasses. Then some properties are not noticeable. My friends are everything to me. If done right, they will last longer than any crush."

-As a former queen of couples, do you have any good tips for seducing someone?

-'Just because I'm a good matchmaker doesn't mean I'll make anything of it, right? Last year all my relationships failed. When it comes to love, I have no idea how to go about it. That is different in every situation, so I would actually advise: just go with your feeling. Last time I jumped straight into the deep end. That was great and very exciting, but in the end it also hurt me a lot. The time before I worked carefully and exploratively and it didn't yield anything for me. That also hurts quite a lot, I can tell you.'

-What do you think is the best cure for a broken heart?

-'You just have to do a lot of things that make you very happy. I am also very optimistic. A sad day. being is fine, but inside I know that the sun will shine again. For the rest I write everything down. That's why so many of my songs are about broken loves.'

-Do you regret some things that have happened to you in the area of love?

-'No, I wouldn't have missed all my adventures for anything. These were all important life lessons that I will benefit from in the future. So I don't regret anything.

Which love lesson has been the most important so far?

-"I've learned that nothing is set in stone. That's a terrible conclusion for someone like me, who likes to plan and organize. But love can't be forced. You can want it to last forever, but before you know it, it can It has to come from both sides and both parties have to be fully committed to it.'

-In other words: love is...

-'Like a dice. Love cannot be predicted. Sometimes you roll a six in one go, sometimes only after ten rolls!'

#taylor swift #taylor swift interviews #girlz holland 2011

8 notes · View notes

shmaptainwrites · 1 year

Text

[CH. 4] New Doctor on the Block

Chapter 4: Dear Dad

Pairings: Hawkeye Pierce x fem!Reader

Characters: Hawkeye Pierce, B.J. Hunnicutt

Summary: Hawkeye writes home to his dad and tells him about the new surgeon at the camp

Warnings: sappy sap sapppyyyyy

Note: Okay you know I had to write a Dear Dad chapter, it was so cool exploring a bit of Hawkeye’s perspective in this! Hope you all like it :) please ignore that this is a day late i COMPLETELY forgot

Series Masterlist - NDotB Masterlist

When Hawkeye woke up that morning he knew something felt different. At first, he thought it could have been what Frank was arguing about with B.J. but that couldn’t be it.

Tale as old as time. He thought to himself.

But as he started to wake more he realized, today was the day someone was coming to interview some of the people working at their M*A*S*H unit.

He wasn’t sure whether he looked forward to or dreaded it, but either way, it was coming.

“You okay Hawkeye?” B.J. asked and the surgeon shrugged.

“Was gonna write to my dad this morning, but I think that’s going to have to wait,” he pointed to the jeep pulling into the unit.

“I’m sure you’ll have time to do it in the afternoon. It’s too bad not everyone is here for the interview,” he commented, noting yours and Major Houlihan’s absence, both away on a weekend trip to Tokyo. “Would have been good to hear from both of them.”

Hawkeye nodded his head and they exited the swamp waiting to be called on for their interviews.

Hawkeye did his interview in the mess tent. Some of the questions he thought were peculiar, almost wondering what was being hidden from the public about the war and seeing and hearing how normal things were going on back home only made him miss it more. He missed Maine, his practice in Boston, he missed his friend Trapper, and most of all, he missed feeling safe. As much as Hawkeye had come to love the South Koreans, their country had only brought him fear and he imagined it was the same for them, except eventually, hopefully, he got to go back home. This was their home.

Once the interview was over and he had just gotten settled in his tent, the notice came out that they were flying in more wounded and all available personnel needed to report to the OR immediately.

He sighed, putting down the paper and pencil he was going to use to write to his father and rushed out to triage.

He wasn’t sure how many hours later it was when they finished, but all he knew was he couldn’t fall asleep. Not immediately anyways, eventually the exhaustion would take over, but for now, the adrenaline was coursing through his veins and it needed to die down before he got any rest.

So he picked up the pen and paper he had left on his bed and sat down outside under the light of a portable lamp and began to write.

Dear Dad,

What a day it’s been. I know I’ve told you about our busy days here, but this one was a little different. A documentary group had come to interview all of us on what it was like being close to the front of the war. I’m not sure if they got what they were looking for.

A little while after the interviews finished a new wave of choppers came with wounded soldiers and we tended to them all night. I just got out of the OR myself.

I feel a bit bad though because I think I lied when the interviewer asked me a question. He said, who are your heroes? I wasn’t sure I had any so I said I didn’t but the more I thought of it I figured it out and it’s even funnier because get this, she hates my guts.

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned the new surgeon who’s joined our unit. She’s from New Hampshire and worked as a nurse in the Second World War. She’s phenomenal, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone more capable for her position. I must admit a few of us were skeptical when she first arrived, but she’s got a knack for it, keeps up to date with the journals, and managed to save a few patients who wouldn’t have made it otherwise because of that.

Just a little while ago, we had this kid come into the OR, we knew right away there was nothing we’d be able to do for him and cutting him up would just add to the unpleasantness so we gave him some painkillers to at least numb him, but he was still lucid. He grabbed her arm and started calling her mom, all of us thought he was delusional or the pain was making him see something in her that wasn’t there. B.J. was about to step in and tell the boy that his mother wasn’t there, but she stopped him and sat down and acted like his mother until he was gone. It was one of the most selfless things I’ve ever seen anyone do here. It was no easy job, he was scared out of his mind, didn’t want to die, but then again who would at eighteen? Turns out he was carrying a picture of his mother on him when he went, the resemblance was uncanny.

I don’t know if I’d ever be able to do that for someone. I’m a doctor, I know I can do that much, but she’s a mom too, there’s another level of thinking there that I don’t understand. Suppose I never will.

And she’s not just a good doctor, I wish you could have seen the way she surprised everyone the other week. Father Mulcahy, I’ve told you about him, he’s our unit’s chaplain, and likes to organize sports and games to keep the morale high around here, so he planned a game of football for some of the enlisted men, a few of the surgeons were around when he suggested it and she asked if she could join them. One of the privates commented that maybe the game might be too rough for her, but before he could protest any more she took the ball from the Father and marched out to the middle of the compound. She asked the private to try and block her and when he refused she gave rank and the poor guy had no idea what was coming for him. She easily managed to get past him and across the line but didn’t stop there. Next, she tossed him the football and told him to try and get past her. Since he was embarrassed of course he had to try and rise to the occasion, but I’m sure you can sense where I’m going with this. She tackled the crap out of him then picked herself up and dusted off her pants as if nothing had happened. B.J. found out later that her mom was sick a lot when she was younger so she spent a lot of time with her dad and one of their favourite pastimes was playing football. I think all of us here at MASH can say without a doubt that he taught her very well.

Aside from that, I narrowly avoided spending the rest of my life in the stockade just by being a good doctor. It was the 557th time Frank had tried to court marshall me for mutiny, but all that came out of it was that Frank is an incompetent doctor and surgeon and I had every right to drug him with novocaine so his reign of terror would end.

Not much else has happened here aside from the usual surgery, sleep, and bad food, but I hope all is well at home. I look forward to hearing back from you soon.

Love,

Your son,

Hawkeye Pierce

Tags

@montyfandomlove

#hawkeye pierce #hawkeye pierce x reader #mash #mashblr #mash fanfiction #hawkeye pierce fanfiction

29 notes · View notes

akamikazae · 2 months

Note

Sorry in advance for asking all these things 😭 but first up, your oc is cool! She’s so stylish as heck! She gives me that 80s funky/chill vibe and her hair is flawless! And I adore for bond with sasuke so much, Ahh. Would it be ok to ask about their lore together? How did they meet and bond together like mother and son? (And kakashi too! He’s papa).

Plus, I also appreciate all the Sasuke positivity so much. From your drawings to random posts. It’s so refreshing and uplifting for me. There’s to much negativity for the poor kid these days. And I greatly respect the “my son!” Feeling to for sasuke. I to get that parent vibe haha (sasuke is little guy no matter what, must squish respectfully).

And for atla, if your oc and characters you like. What benders would they be? And if they are besties with any of the Alta crew?

P.s; i do Like seeing the snake positivity! It’s wonderful seeing that. Poor things also get bad rap as well. (I like seeing hognoses, they are cute!! Myself I wish I had one and tarantulas😭) ANYWAYS, TY FOR POSITIVE CONTENT SO MUCH. Be well and have a great day/night! Sorry again for the long ask!

Never ever be sorry for sending an ask! I love love getting them and getting to chat w lovely pals like you! So thank you for popping over to send me an ask ❤︎₊ ⊹ You are always welcome to ask about my lil fam! I will try to keep it short and sweet lol ₊⊹ Ahhh thank you so much for saying so, Akami is very very dear to me! I’m glad u think she’s got a bit of a retro vibe. I always see her fitting in well w that 90s-ish style from the 80s to the 00’s ! (I actually have a 90's au for them too)

Shisui was one of Akami's first childhood friends and later her first lil love. She goes w Shisui to meet Sasuke when she’s 13yr, he’s only a few weeks old but the second she holds him and his chubby baby hand swipes her chin she falls in love. Bc of her relationship with Shisui Akami spends more and more time around Sasuke— he’d be tagging along after the big kids, but she always made time for him. Even if it was 20 extra minutes before a mission or after a long day of training, she’d hide her injuries and play with him instead. She’s one of many Anbu called to the scene the night of the Uchiha massacre. The second she found him all alone she knew she was taking him home and she quit Anbu that night. Akami never felt heard or seen as a child so she tries her best to make sure that Sasuke has a voice. She didn’t intend to take on a parental role; it just happened over the years. She’s always open about his family and ready to listen when he confides in her, she teaches him every single uchiha jutsu she knows (and eventually kakashi does too) so Sasuke can still feel connected to his Clan. She gets him through his nightmares and defends him tooth and nail, she teaches him how to cook and use a sword. No matter what, he's always gonna be her baby and she’ll be his Kami-chan. There is nothing she wouldn’t do for him. Akami and Kakashi knew each other as kids, they did not get along until their traumas sort of forced them to see eye to eye and rely on each other. But it wasn’t a friendship until their early-mid teens, even then it always felt like more. Shortly after she takes in Sasuke they start a tumultuous FWB only to realize they very obviously love each other. Sasuke approves bc Kakashi makes Akami happy and is always there for her (for better or worse) and Kakashi and Sasuke start to have a very meaningful connection well before he becomes his sensei. Yes parent squad ! Sasuke deserves the world and I love that you love him too!!<3 In ATLA Akami would be a water bender, she’s a descendant of the Yuki clan so it just seems fitting for her heritage! Tho I’d be wary of her healing abilities, she’s more of a fighter and I would not put it past her to learn how to blood bend! (She was Anbu Root for a reason💀) Sasuke is fire bb! Kakashi I go back and forth on but I think he would be fire too .I love love love love ATLA and have tried to make an au for her but I find it hard to imagine Akami interacting w the gang (They all just feel so young lol- though she’d probably like Suki and Zuko best) I think that she would get along really well with Piandao! June, Jet and Iroh too. She’d def feel some sort of kinship for Azula (ruthless + manipulative never taught to love, w similar mommy and daddy issues!🤝lol) Yes Yes! I love snakes, they are so beautiful !! When I made my oc I really wanted to have her be ostracized because of her father and resemblance so it’s so fun to play w both the beauty and monstrous qualities for her. 🐍Akami and her summons Ryū are based off of mangrove pit vipers and Copper bellied water snakes ! Thank you again for the ask! I could blab about them all day if my super long winded response wasn’t proof lol 💕💕Take care my dear and have lovely day and or night :)

#ask #thanks for the ask !#lovely moots 💕#my very long winded answer to go with my very long winded long fic --lol kaz doesn't know how to keep things short and sweet but I tried !!#oc: akami #Sasuke #kakashi #the lil fam <3 #aether-link

5 notes · View notes

hairstevington · 10 months

Text

i'm counting the days to the rapture (Part 2 - Barbara)

Summary: Barb wakes up and contemplates what happened to her. Eventually, she decides to turn lemons into lemonade. (part 1, link to Ao3)

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Teenage girl angst but it's Barb so it's iconic, otherwise idk this fic is all about the topic of life and death but that's about it for warnings!

A/N: Ao3 is down and idk what to do with myself so here's the next chapter! I love writing Barb and am excited to have her as a main character. This chapter is inspired by the song "Last Man on Earth" by Anna Bates. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was like waking up from the worst nightmare she’d ever had.

Barb gasped for air as she sat up, clawing at her neck and stomach, fighting against something that was no longer there. She halted, realizing that it had all been a dream.

Oh, thank goodness.

She closed her eyes and breathed until she felt centered again. If the monster attacking her had been a dream, everything leading up to it must have been as well - the party at Steve’s house, Nancy going up those stairs…

Barb was so relieved she nearly burst into tears. What a horrible, miserable, tragic dream.

She opened her eyes to find that she wasn’t in her bedroom. She wasn’t in any bedroom actually. She wasn’t even in a bed. It was a bit dark, but she was sitting in an open space, hard concrete beneath her, the night sky above. It was quiet, the temperature cool.

She blinked a few times and stood up, her vision slowly adjusting to the lack of light. A ladder was beside her, so she climbed up - and that’s when she recognized where she was.

Oh. Oh, my.

She was still at Steve Harrington’s house, where she’d been in her dream, but the pool was empty now. Why would it be empty? They’d just been swimming in it. Did she fall in and then they drained it and left her there? If it had been a dream, why was she still here? Unless, she was still dreaming…

Well, this didn’t really make much sense at all. She pinched herself, but remained where she was. Steve’s house was completely dark on the inside - no Steve, no Nancy, no Tommy, and no Carol. Just Barb - alone, confused, and surrounded by that deafening silence.

The world was still.

Nothing around her felt like it had any life to it. She didn’t have the words to explain it. Why would she? She was a sixteen year old girl who never wanted to go to that stupid party in the first place. Up until that night, Barb had lived a nice, normal life. She had great parents who supported and loved her, a best friend she could tell everything to, and big aspirations to go to college and travel the world. What else could a person want?

None of that existed here - she could just tell. She woke up somewhere else. Somewhere familiar, but foreign.

“Nancy?” she called out, hearing nothing but her own echo. “Nancy!”

Barb knew her best friend had a brief lapse in judgment, but in no world would Nancy have left her there. Barb checked herself for wounds but found none - not from whatever that beast was, nor from the knife she’d used when she tried to shotgun a beer (so stupid).

She realized that her car was parked somewhere down the street - in theory, anyway. She figured that was a good place to start, so she headed that direction. As she walked, she pondered her situation some more. She knew deep down that she wasn’t still dreaming, but denying that and holding out hope she was provided a bit of comfort.

It’s just that - she remembered what had happened to her, and she knew she was killed. Which meant wherever she was could very well be the afterlife.

The Holland family went to church every Sunday, and Barb was no exception. She didn’t consider herself to be a very religious person, but her parents had strong faith, and Barb had lived her life to their standards. To God’s standards, really. Barb had never sinned - she’d had a few sips of wine with Nancy at a sleepover once or twice, but that was it. And was that even a sin, or just illegal?

None of that mattered, because this place wasn’t heaven. Didn’t quite feel like Hell, either. Purgatory? Maybe.

Her car was there. She hadn’t really been expecting it to be, based on her luck so far that night, but she was grateful for it nonetheless.

And that’s when something else caught her eye - a billowing of smoke from beyond the trees, accompanied by the faint scent of something cooking. It was close, she could tell, but she didn’t want to walk there. Not near those woods, not with the monster still etched into her memory. So, she got into her car and drove toward it, winding down the road and around until she pulled up to Benny’s Burgers. She’d been there a few times with her parents, as a kid, and then once or twice with Nancy for milkshakes, but that was it.

Usually, the diner was nothing special. Now, it seemed like the most exciting place of all time.

Lights were on inside, music blaring. Barb could see a man through the window. She was thrilled to hear something fill the silence, to see light within the darkness, to feel life amidst the void.

She stumbled to the door, stunned. It felt as if she were at the bottom of the lake, swimming to the surface. Once she was through the door frame, she could breathe again.

“Hey,” the man said. “Where did you come from?”

She was more concerned about where she was now, but his question was still a valid one.

“I just climbed out of an empty pool,” she explained, relieved that she was no longer alone in this. Whatever this was. “I - I’m pretty sure I’m dead.”

The man looked at her curiously.

“Dead?” he asked, confused. “Well, you look fine to me. Can I make you something?” He wiped his hands on his pants and gestured to the kitchen behind him. Barb shrugged and nodded.

“Milkshake?” she asked. Benny chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re the second mysterious girl to show up here alone wanting ice cream,” he said as he turned towards the walk-in freezer.

“You mean, there are other people around?” For a moment, she was hopeful again. Nancy and the others disappearing was weird, but she wasn’t thinking about that. There was probably an explanation, and everything was normal, and -

“Well, no,” he replied, sheepish. “Not that I’m aware. Although, I haven’t ventured that far if I’m honest.”

Oh. Damn.

He walked into the freezer and emerged with a tub of vanilla ice cream.

“So, who was the other girl?” Barb asked, desperate for more information. The man got a clean scoop from the dishes and heated it under hot water.

“Dunno,” he replied. His face was almost forlorn. “She was here before I - well, before.” Barb nodded, slowly, taking all of this in. The man scooped the ice cream into a blender, poured milk in, and then suddenly the room was vibrant with noise - albeit unpleasant, grinding noise, but still. He clicked off the blender, and music coursed through the air once more.

“So, what’s the last thing you remember?” she asked. “Like - I mean, what happened? When did you get here? How -?”

“Woah there, one thing at a time here,” the man said. He poured the milkshake in two glasses and sat down with her at a table, sliding one in front of each of them. “I haven’t been here that long, I don’t think. But it seems to be just me. Haven’t had a customer since I woke up.” They each took a sip. “Let’s start with you, though. How’d you end up here, uh - sorry, what’s your name?”

“Barb,” she answered. “You first.”

“Hmm, fair enough,” he responded. “I’m Benny, by the way. I run the place, as you probably figured out.”

Barb probably should have figured that out by now, but she hadn’t been thinking about it. Benny. That made sense. It was the first thing that had made sense so far.

“Thanks for the milkshake, Benny,” she said, drinking some more.

“You’re welcome, Barb,” he replied. “As to how I got here, well, uh - hmm. Yeah, I guess I’ve been thinking I died, too.”

“How?”

Benny stared at her with raised eyebrows.

“How did I die?” Barb nodded. “Oh, it’s - how old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Maybe a little young for this, then,” he muttered. “If what I think happened happened, it’s a bit violent.” Barb blinked a few times, unimpressed.

“I was dragged around, attacked, and bit by a giant monster with no face,” she stated, matter of fact. Benny waited for her to say she was being sarcastic, but she stayed silent and unwavering. He shook his head.

“Okay, kid. Point taken,” he told her. “Some woman I thought was from social services came in here and shot me in the head.”

Barb’s eyes widened in shock.

“What? Why?” This time, Benny was the one to shrug. Barb sighed, then attempted once again to make a semblance of sense in all this. “Okay, so we’re dead. So are a billion other people. Maybe there’s more of us out there.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Benny said. “I guess I just - I’m happy here. I wish I knew what happened to that girl, but I got no way to find her. I don’t mind the quiet, and we still seem to have power and food and all that. I figure this ain’t much different than my life before.”

“Okay, well it’s - it’s a lot different from mine,” she countered. “I think I’m gonna go see what’s out there.”

“You’re leaving?” Benny asked, concerned. “But I - well, I dunno if it’s safe out there for ya.” Barb almost laughed. She’d always had a bit of a dark sense of humor.

“I’m already dead,” she said. Benny, mercifully, shared the same sense of humor and chuckled.

“Guess I won’t be able to convince ya not to, huh?” She shook her head. “Well, alright. You know where to find me. If you see a little girl with a shaved head, will you bring her back with you?”

“Sure,” she responded, not understanding the reference. “And I’ll run from anyone who claims to be from social services.”

Benny laughed, then nodded. They finished their milkshakes, and then Barb left the diner and got into her car.

Time to explore her new world.

Barb quickly learned she could do literally anything and get away with it. She started with speeding - that was an easy one. She could drive as fast as she wanted without much worry, especially on long straight roads. Nobody else was around, especially cops, so who cared? Not Barb!

She raided clothing stores and got a whole new wardrobe, including accessories. All things she’d always wished she could afford. She even took an evening gown from a bridal shop - what for? She figured she’d know when the time came. Then, for good measure, she took a second gown. Just in case she needed options in the hypothetical gala of the afterlife.

Gas stations still worked. A road trip seemed like a good idea.

First, she went up North to Lake Michigan and spent her days in a lake house. It was too cold to hang out on the beach, but some of those winter nights were beautiful. She got to see the frozen water glimmer in the moonlight. She’d wake up and watch the snow fall outside the window. The season changed eventually to Spring and eventually Summer, but the days didn’t pass as they used to. It was more like one prolonged experience that felt neither too long nor too short.

Eventually, she left the lake house and decided to go to Nashville.

She listened to music (she'd also raided a record store and stolen a bunch of cassettes) and had the windows down, singing at the top of her lungs the whole drive. She started to think that maybe this whole thing wasn’t so bad. It was…freeing.

She stayed in fancy hotels and jumped on beds. She ran down hallways and swam in pools fully clothed.

She walked through the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. Her dad was a huge country fan, so she’d grown up listening to it. At that point, she figured since no one was around, no one would mind if she took something, right?

Barb decided on Bob Nolan’s black cowboy hat. It looked absolutely ridiculous on her, but no one was looking, so it didn’t matter.

She went to the Grand Ole Opry House, hopped on stage, and screamed as loud as she could. She walked into bars and made disgusting drinks - she didn’t know much about alcohol, but she came to learn it tasted awful no matter what she mixed it with. She laid on rooftops and watched the stars at night. She named new constellations when she didn’t remember the old ones.

It took her a very long time to get bored, but she did eventually. She thought about venturing further into different parts of the country, but she had all the time in the world to do that - and that apparently wasn't an exaggeration. Instead, she headed back to Hawkins, where her mind still wandered to on occasion. Plus, she wanted to know how Benny was doing. She hadn’t found a single soul in Nashville in the months (?) she’d been away, and it had taken her twenty minutes to find someone back home, so perhaps there would be more waiting once she arrived.

She was right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PS next chapter is our man Bob Newby so stay tuned!!

Taglist! (kind of guessing on this because it's a gen story so if anyone wants to be removed or added please let me know! You can use replies, DMs, or the google form)

@skjachukson @manda-panda-monium @twcatelgatitodetwitter @renaissan-vvitch @disastardly @goodolefashionedloverboi @depressed-gays-of-marvel @smolbasilboy @bunnyweasley23 @alliemunsonsstuff

#i'm counting the days to the rapture #barbara holland #benny stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #st fic #writing

15 notes · View notes

spiritcc · 5 months

Note

top 5 anime and why unironically

i havent even seen 5 animes in my whole live i think, so here it's truly whatever was on my plate at some point-kinda presentation. will probably say a lot about the Era i was in back in the day, strap in, whippersnappers.

bleach. maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan. it's like, you know how spn fans know very well the show stopped being good about 3 seasons in but kept watching till the end? bleach is the spn of the anime world. yet i must emphasise that there is a galaxy-sized distance between the importance of bleach in my life vs every other anime on this list. if you're trying to get into it post-factum, it won't work, you know in advance it's a waste of time, it's only when you were there personally to witness its 2.5 WE'RE SO BACK over the other fifty IT'S SO OVER's, its biggest rise in popularity, its peak of fame, its slow loss of fandom, its return, its undignified death. it's only when you were there personally to see all of that and stay because there's no going back already, must just as well sink with the ship. what WAS so good about it anyway? those 2.5 arcs, yea, then you eventually switch to the manga and see that Kubo had the best style out of everyone ever and his backgrounds were popping too, PLUS he's the only one obsessed with fashion so the characters never wore one thing for generations. even when there are uniforms, they are customised to each character and change every time-skip. i took it for granted all these years, big mistake. basically Kubo never really wanted to develop a story, he just wanted to have bleach forever and that was taken away from him, thus its disgraceful fall, but the fall happened primarily because he just didnt want to let go in the first place and any chance he gets at some anniversary stuff, he immediately tries shoving some cliffhangers in as a chance to bring it back. well. the fans are here. we'd be there.

soul eater, which honestly i only watched bc it was initially very funny. kinda cool but primarily just very funny, which it stopped being about halfway through, and that's when i bailed. it also still has the best opening of all anime to this day. also what was funny is how anime ended years before the manga did and mangaka was sooo angy about how they fucked up the ending but then the manga ending came out and it was just the same shit minus some details, from what i've seen. i also have a keychain with several characters that i got in like 2009, it then lay dormant in some sarcophagus for most of the years until 2023 and emerged in perfect condition. no idea what kind of enamel this is but it's like it's brand new, and it's defs the more cool merch to show around than whatever i had of bleach.

kaiketsu zorro, aka yes, the zorro anime. so far i've seen less than 10 episodes but to me it's just the best zorro adaptation that ever existed. they grind diego's reputation into MOLECULES there's NOTHING left of his dignity it's honestly so incredible, plus we're shaping up a good dozen of characters that have overly dramatic fics about them so i'm already anticipating so many otps to root for. i just expect total mayhem and boy am i looking forward to it.

trinity blood. maaaan it's basically like... you learn that the anime exists, you remember that its whole fame is 90% cosplay community, you look into the origins of the cosplay designs, which leads to discovering the light novels, then the manga, and only then you watch the anime in hysterics of what it fucking did to the source material. but it all started because of the anime and we have to alas somewhat respect that. trinity blood is one of those things you get into as an acknowledged doomsday, since you will never see it end, the death of the author will always be on your mind because the event haunts all those narratives at every angle, and his final notes don't actually resolve anything. post-armageddon priests vs vampires vs biblical elements vs science is just the most teenage boy premise, but it Was cool... the light novels were two, ROM and RAM i forget which was which, one was 4 years prior, the second was 4 years after, so two narratives that i think by the end were meant to lock in one place, one day two chapters would come out where the flash forward ends the whole series in a grand armageddon i bet, while the flashback chapter ends the prelude that started the flash forward in the first place. you see characters in flashbacks become bitter people in flashforwards, characters that have great presence in the past being completely absent in the present, which immediately starts Thoughts, the concept of everything was neat. never meant to be, now good luck trying to find both novels past volume 4, the manga doesnt adapt the flashback novels, the fandom is dead, the anime isn't of any help. doomsday place, doomsday fandom.

eh fuck it, shaman king. the russian version of the intro was one of the best sounding ones and thats as far as i can describe it because i wouldn't be able to recite the plot even if i tried. like pokemon for ghost people, truly. it felt like it had 1000 episodes.

#keep em top 5 coming #TB is no joke i only got post vol4 information from Dealers and even then it was just quick recaps #of chapters that do very much exist and been existing for 20 years #now nobody finds out that francesco has a half-brother who is on catherine's side and lusts after her #AX vs inquisition was pretty nice as is but spicing it up with the imagery of francesco vomiting himself to sleep #over his brother wanting to fuck his sister is just something no one gets to experience now

4 notes · View notes

starboundsingularity · 1 year

Text

Um- hello there! Nice to see you guys stopping by my blog.

So uh- I've got some unfortunate news......

You see, as I'm writing this post, asks that I have yet to answer are slowly piling up in my inbox. And I'm starting to lose the motivation to write the prompts out. For awhile now, actually. I seemingly have no more ideas and don't have enough creativity juice in this noggin o' mine to actually produce anything else.

So, it is with great displeasure that I must announce that this au might be- discontinued. Which is really sad to me, because new people that are expecting *new* stuff are piling in! But I truly don't have the energy to continue this little project.

Well, now that it's kind of...over, for this. What happens next?

I figured that since I'll most likely not use the leftover concepts that's been cookin' in my head for this au- I might aswell share it with you all right now! So buckle up, buttercup. We're going out with a bang.

(WARNING: EXTREME RAMBLINGS INBOUND)

Okay! So, one of the more prominent concepts that I was planning on expanding involved mask and the rest of Team Cyan! For those who saw the post involving his headshot, you would have noticed that he was a bit...melty. And that's cause he is! And the rest of his team too!

Managing to survive the Nils Statue that started it all, Team Cyan stayed in inkopolis since day one. Surviving off of scraps and scavenging resources from abandoned apartments, they found no reason to leave. They were sneaky after all. Falling into whatever slime coated the city was the least of their problems. (And since the early stages of the ooze were relatively harmless, they were almost completely unscathed.)

Of course, the ooze slowly started to develop over time. And so did its potency. So without realizing- (or maybe they just didn't care) Team Cyan were exposed to the effects of the hive in an extremely slow process. By the time the hive reached a point where it could actually move around and "hunt", Mask and Co. Weren't even considered potential targets. To the hive, they were so close to the edge of joining that it cant even tell them apart from itself.

So yea! They're slowly yet surely becoming one with the hivemind. Woopsies.

Second major concept!!!

One of my favorite perspectives during the blog was with Prince and N-Pacer, and that was mainly because I was planning a huge story thing even before I started the whole blog!

For those who remember, they weren't able to recover Emperor and the rest of Team Monarch when the Nils Statue hit- as they were the only two together during the massive event. Prince is in denial, while N-Pacer assumed the worst. (Which played into her overprotective nature of his brother.)

So the thing is- Emperor is actually dead. Just gone. One with the cephalopod smoothie. And I wanted a moment where Prince snuck away from N-Pacer in the middle of the night to try and scavenge for himself, leading him to be isolated in the woods of Mt. Nantai.

And guess who's there with him!!!! That's right baby!!! The ooze is there!!!! And what can mimic voices????? THE OOZE!!!!

So using emperor's voice, the sentient Mt. Dew slushie almost lures Prince into an ambush- before N-Pacer manages to scare it away at the last second! She scoops up Prince, and a chase ensues.

They would escape, and would leave Mt. Nantai due to the fact that their safe space was now infiltrated. The duo would eventually meet up with Aloha's group, but that's about it.

And the last concept that I kinda scrapped rather quickly but I thought it was cool enough to include it anyways- there was a point where there would be a major twist in the blog where you guys: the askers- were the ooze all along!!! Trying to gather information about our protagonists to hunt them down! But unfortunately, it didn't make that much sense to me. How would they connect to the character's communication line? What would happen once they figure out the truth? Stuff like that. Alas, it was neat.

So! That's the end of it!

You all were an absolutely amazing audience, and I had a blast with the little time we had together. There's no end to the amount of thanks I need to give, truly! But this story needs to come to an end.

(Unless someone wants to continue it *cough*)

So, yeah. It's been fun everybody! I'll see you on the flipside.

-The Author

15 notes · View notes

invalidtumbls · 1 year

Text

De-rezzed in the Second Act

So, I have this weird habit: I am fascinated not by perfect stories, but those that start well and fall apart for no particularly good reason. I remember seeing Atlantis: The Lost Empire in the theater and being carried away by the efficient setup in the first 20 minutes, only to hit a point when things slow down and thinking “wait, when did this suddenly start to suck?”

I hear ya Vinny. I’m bored too.

The problem, as story theorists know, is second act trouble. It’s that problem of the long middle of the story where initial enthusiasm fades, attention drifts, and momentum fails.

Well, that’s what it does when you’ve got second act trouble, anyways. Obviously, some movies/games/shows don’t have this problem, because they don’t have a defective second act. Nobody in 1977 came out of Star Wars saying “man, that stuff on board the Death Star went on way too long.”

Anyways, let’s define our terms. Three-act structure splits the story into three parts:

Setup — Introduce the characters and the situation. An inciting incident gets the ball rolling, ultimately leading to the first plot point, where an irreversible change occurs and the conflict begins.

Conflict — The protagonist attempts to achieve their goal, dealing with a progression of complications that arise naturally from each of their actions along the way. Eventually, this leads to the second plot point, at which the back-and-forth of the main conflict cannot continue, and a conclusion (for good or ill) must be reached.

Resolution — A new, final conflict ends the story, with the protagonist succeeding or failing (or, sometimes, a combination of both, like discovering the thing they originally wanted and have now attained isn’t what they actually need).

Thing is, these aren’t divvied up in tidy one-third portions. In practice, the acts are in more of a 25%-50%-25% split, or 20-50-30 if you go by the Scriptnotes podcast’s t-shirt. Author K. M. Weiland has an extraordinary site for story theorists that breaks all the key moments (or beats) of this structure into blogs, podcasts, and compilation books.

So, after seeing YouTube videos of the cool new Tron roller coaster at Disney World, I was reminded of 2010's Tron Legacy, the would-be franchise-relaunching, torch-passing, sci-fi film that basically did none of those things. It's another film that I remember deflates about halfway through, so I thought it would be worth a rewatch to see where it goes wrong.

This being a sequel to 1982’s Tron, you’d figure some the audience would need a reminder of the first film, since it had been been 28 years. You could just watch the first movie, but… surprise… Disney let it quietly go out of print in the year or two prior to the debut of Tron Legacy. Corporate incompetence? I’d argue quite the opposite: whatever you think of the original Tron, it’s not as good as you remember. To modern eyes, it’s clunky, talky, and slow, and certainly can’t coast on the power of its dated special effects. Chance are, if 2010 audiences could have gone back to watch Tron, they’d have been less likely to get tickets to Tron Legacy. Which is why I think Disney drained the retail market of Tron DVDs on purpose. After all, they were perfectly happy to issue a Blu-Ray of "Tron: The Original Classic" once Legacy had finished its theatrical run and got its home media release.

Come for the space frisbees, stay for the Wendy Carlos soundtrack that you remember from the arcade game.

So, instead, Tron Legacy opens with a scene of a digitally de-aged Jeff Bridges — well, a digitally de-aged back of Jeff Bridges’ head — reprising the character of Kevin Flynn, the protagonist of the first movie, a coder who went inside the computer called “The Grid” to defeat evil programs. He tells his son about how he fought alongside the heroic program “Tron”, and created another program named “Clu” to care for The Grid in Flynn’s absence. That’s basically everything you need to know from the first movie. All the other details — Sark, the MCP, Yori, Dumont — none of it matters. See how much time you saved by not rewatching it?

Next scene: info-dump. A news story reports Kevin Flynn’s disappearance, as it plays out over footage of the lonely, and increasingly troubled young Sam Flynn. It moves fast enough, and it’s fine for what it is.

Now, though, we are six minutes into the movie and don’t really know the protagonist. A 10-minute action sequence takes care of that. With an implicit timeskip, we see the young adult Sam speeding on his motorcycle, escaping the police, and breaking into the corporate tower of his father’s former company, which is having a board meeting to announce their new operating system. This is one of the already-dated bits of Tron Legacy: the now-evil version of ENCOM is a pretty obvious expy for Microsoft, as it prepares to launch its new operating system with a high new price tag and no new features.

When Apple did this, they called it “Snow Leopard” and everyone thought it was great. Shouldn’t we cut ENCOM a break?

I don’t think this bit lands today like it did just 13 years ago. People under 35 don’t recall Microsoft’s cutthroat monopoly days and mostly just know Microsoft as the Xbox company, not that different from Sony or Nintendo. An evil computer company today would probably be portrayed as directly creeping on its users, like Google or Facebook, or perhaps an Apple-style aesthetic dictatorship. Maybe with an Elon Musk caricature because, man, that dude is creepy.

As the board meeting continues, Sam sneaks into a server room and starts hacking, narrowly avoiding a security guard. As the board goes to launch their new OS, Sam’s hack reveals itself as a looping video of a barking dog, despite the “world-class security” claimed by the company. Better yet, Flynn’s last remaining loyalist at the company, Alan (the creator of the original “Tron” program), discovers that Sam’s hack has released the OS for free on the web.

At the top of the building, the security guard reaches Sam as he stands atop a crane. Sam, as the main shareholder in the company, justifies his hack as stealing from himself… then jumps off the building. Halfway down, he opens a parachute to complete his daring escape… except that he gets caught in a traffic light on the way down and the cops catch him.

Fifteen minutes into the film and Garret Hedlund is almost effortlessly charming. Pity it doesn’t last.

After bailing out of jail, Sam returns to his home — a makeshift bachelor pad built of stacked shipping containers — to find Alan waiting for him with news: Alan received an alert from a pager left to him by Kevin Flynn 20 years ago. From a long-since disconnected number.

Bruce Boxleitner has such a low-key charm, it’s a shame we didn’t see him in more stuff. Although now I’m sure you’re all going to tell me to watch Babylon 5, aren’t you?

Sam laughs off the idea that his father is waiting for him at the old arcade, but eventually rides over to check it out. Finding a secret room behind the “Tron” machine, Sam discovers Kevin’s office, and after a few ill-considered commands at the terminal, he gets zapped into The Grid.

So, in 20 minutes, there’s Act I. The essentials, from a story perspective:

Protagonist: Sam Flynn, genius hacker, prankster, lost-boy-without-a-father-figure trope.

The hook: Can Sam figure out what happened to Kevin Flynn all those years ago, and find him? And could doing so set things right both with Sam and the company?

The inciting event: Alan receives a page from Flynn’s pager, and lets Sam know.

First plot point: Sam is zapped into The Grid, the world inside the computer.

All told, this is really good. The movie efficiently gets us on board with a fun, exciting protagonist, and gives him a compelling purpose. You’d figure we’re in for a good time at this point.

(Reader, we are not in for a good time.)

OK, so Act II. There’s lots to do in the second act — it’s half the running time after all — so it’s helpful to break it down more granularly. Weiland writes, “[the] first half of the second act is where your characters find the time and space to react to the first major plot point.” Since the plot point was getting zapped into The Grid, it makes sense that the reaction — Sam’s first order of business — is figuring out where he is and what do to do. So we start with a five-minute sequence of Sam immediately being captured by the authorities, outfitted with his Tron-land uniform and identity disc, and brought to the game grid.

I hadn’t realized until this rewatch that Sam being pinned down by the Recognizer’s searchlight is a callback to when the police helicopter gets him back in Act I.

From here, we go into what everyone expects from the Tron movies: the videogame stuff. Sam immediately ends up in “Disc Wars”, the gladiatorial death frisbee from the first movie, albeit with updated effects. Using his innate athleticism and cleverness, he survives to a faceoff with the champion Rinzler, who wounds Sam and realizes from a blood drop that Sam is not a program, but a user. A mysterious figure lording over the games demands that Sam be brought to him.

As Sam is ferried up to the throne room, the mysterious figure reveals himself as the spitting image of the 35-year-old Kevin Flynn. Sam greets his dad and insists they go home, only to be told the leader isn’t Kevin Flynn after all. Sam realizes that this is Clu, a program that Flynn created (owing to the Tron convention that programs resemble the person who created them).

The convention of programs resembling their “users” also speaks to the mainframe-era idioms of the original Tron, when a user and programmer were one and the same, typically someone who wrote a program to solve computational problems for themselves.

Clu sends Sam back out to the game grid, presumably to die in combat in the lightcycle game. So, shut off your brain, we get another zippy five-minute action sequence. It’s playing out just like the original Tron at this point in the second act, arguably better because Act I established Sam’s motorcycle skills, so the lightcycle action sequence and his success in it is actually motivated by his character.

40 minutes in and he’s still charming. If only it had lasted.

Despite being outgunned by opponents with better equipment, Sam leads his team and puts up a solid fight. Eventually though, dirty tricks kill off his compatriots, leaving Sam with a wrecked bike and facing certain doom at the edge of Clu's outstretched disc. Suddenly, a four-wheeler bursts onto the grid and rescues Sam. The driver wrecks most of the pursuing lightcycles, then blasts a hole in the arena to escape to a barren outland beyond the grid, where the pursuers’ vehicles can’t operate. Removing her helmet, the driver introduces herself as Quorra, promising that Sam’s questions will be answered in due course.

Things slow down as the car weaves its way through hidden passages to a secret lair. Quorra brings Sam inside an elegant home, where a solitary figure resides in a seated meditation.

For those of you keeping track, the Blu-Ray is at 48 minutes, 30 seconds, and the movie is about to fall apart, though we don’t know it yet.

We’re now approaching the midpoint of the second act, and thus, the midpoint of the movie itself. This is a separate phase of the second act, one that is uniquely situated to keep the story from flagging. That is, if you actually do something with it. As Weiland writes:

The midpoint is what keeps your second act from dragging. It’s what caps the reactions in the first half of the book and sets up the chain of actions that will lead the characters into the climax. In many ways, the midpoint is like a second inciting event. Like the first inciting event, it directly influences the plot. It changes the paradigm of the story. And it requires a definitive and story-altering response from the characters.

So, a good story probably wants to do something big at the midpoint, something that changes the stakes, changes the conflict, and forces the protagonist to act. Revelations! Betrayal! Explosions! The good stuff!

Tron Legacy, by comparison, sits down to have dinner.

What’s wrong, Quorra? You haven’t had any of your uncannily realistic roast pig.

The reunion scenes with Sam and (Kevin) Flynn stretch out for about 15 minutes… a full one-eighth of the movie. It’s all dialogue, much of it while seated. That’s already tough to make dramatic. What’s even harder to chew through is a staggering amount of info-dumping:

Sam insists they leave the Grid together, but Flynn says it’s impossible.

Awkwardly, Sam and Flynn try to catch up over the lost years, but it turns to why Flynn didn’t return. Flynn explains the discovery of the “Isos”, isomorphic algorithms, a spontaneously-generated digital life form that could change the world.

As Flynn's story turns to flashback, Clu sees the Isos as a corruption of the perfect system Flynn created him to build, and stages a coup against Flynn. Tron (apparently) dies defending Flynn, who flees into exile to escape. With no one left to stop him, Clu commits genocide against the Isos, wiping them out in one stroke.

The portal between The Grid and the real world closes, trapping Flynn within. It can only be opened from the outside, meaning Sam’s entry has opened it.

Flynn suspects that Clu is organizing something, and that he wants the power of Flynn’s identity disc. Flynn reveals that he didn’t send the page to Alan, meaning that Clu must have done so, as a means of laying a trap to lure out Flynn.

Yeah yeah, I was around in the 80s. I remember “War Games” too.

It’s kind of a chore to get through all of this material. It’s good for the story to breathe after the action of the game grid, but 15 minutes is probably too much. And to be fair, this does meet one of the requirements of the midpoint: it changes the protagonist’s goals and actions. Sam realizes he can’t convince Flynn to come with him to the portal. Instead, as he explains to Quorra, if he can just get to the portal himself, then out in the real world he can delete Clu with just a keystroke. Quorra thinks about it, then gives him the contact information for “Zuse”, a program who can get anyone to anywhere. Sam takes this information, steals Flynn’s old lightcycle, and heads back into the Grid.

We are now at one hour, five minutes into the movie, and believe it or not, this is the last time in the movie that our protagonist will take action entirely on his own. But more on that later.

Sam meets a female program who takes him to the End of the Line Club to meet Zuse, through an intermediary named Castor. Meanwhile, Clu's forces find the lightcycle and trace it back to Flynn’s hidden lair. Sam negotiates with Castor (who turns out to be Zuse himself) for transport to the portal, but is betrayed when it all turns out to have been a trap and Clu’s forces crash in from above. This kicks off a big bar fight sequence — the first action in nearly a half-hour at this point — with Quorra arriving to help protect Sam.

The Daft Punk cameo is a cute touch, since the soundtrack they created is quite likely the most enduring and best thing about the film. It’s a pity the Blu-Ray doesn’t have a music-only audio track, because then you could turn the entire movie into a two-hour Daft Punk music video.

The fight goes badly, with Sam overwhelmed and Quorra losing an arm to one of Clu’s goons before Flynn arrives to use his convenient god-like powers to turn the tide of the fight. He urges Sam to escape with the wounded Quorra to the elevator, but as they leave, one of Clu’s minions steals Flynn’s identity disc: exactly what Flynn has tried to prevent all these years.

Flynn and Sam steal a solar sailer and set off, Flynn reluctantly agreeing to Sam’s plan to make a rush to the portal. With the in-flight downtime, Flynn starts to use his magical user power to start healing Quorra. As Sam watches Flynn work, he realizes the truth: Quorra is an Iso, in fact, the last surviving Iso.

And this pause gives us an opportunity to bring up something about Tron Legacy: what is the point of this entire exercise? Ideally, a good story should have a theme that it expresses. The title gives us a hint: "legacy", things left behind by previous generations.

There's a really interesting idea when you think about it: Flynn basically has three children in this story:

Sam, his biological human son.

Clu, the program he created literally in his own image.

Quorra, his adoptive Iso daughter.

…and it doesn’t really do anything with that idea. Clu is motivated not by his resentment of Sam (or Quorra, if he’s even aware of her), but by his political ambitions to create a perfect world. Sam arrives to see Quorra living with Flynn and doesn’t for a second consider the idea he’s been effectively replaced by her in his father’s concerns and affections. If anything, the movie wants us to see a spark of romantic interest between Sam and Quorra, and if years of watching anime on Crunchyroll has taught me anything, it’s to never fuck your sister, even if you’re not blood-related.

(Looks up suddenly, taps earpiece.) Uh, Wolf, I’m getting word that what anime actually says is to always fuck your sister. Back to you in Atlanta.

The scene of Flynn magically healing Quorra’s disintegrated arm also brings up what a missed opportunity this is. Between these three characters, they chose the least interesting option. To wit, could Sam heal Quorra? We’ve seen he’s got 1337 4ax0r 5k1llz back in Act I; does that give him magical abilities inside The Matrix The Grid? Do all users have that, or is it just Flynn?

Turn it around another way: what if it’s Flynn or Sam who gets injured. Can Quorra heal them? Flynn tells us that the Isos are these fascinating creatures who are going to reshape the real world, but we never see anything like that. Quorra is at best a quality Action Girl, but nothing she does in the story appears to have any relevance to her identity as an Iso. It’s another failure to “show, don’t tell”, in a movie that does an heck of a lot of telling to begin with.

Moreover, this sequence is taking us to the end of Act II. Citing Weiland again, this post-midpoint section is supposed to set up the protagonist for his or her final actions in Act III.

Because the second half of the second act will lead right into the slugfest of the climax, this is the author’s last chance to get all his playing pieces into position. We have to set up the line of dominoes that will knock into the final major plot point at the 75% mark, and we do that by creating a series of actions from the main character. Although he’s not likely to be in control of the situation, he’s at least moving forward and calling a few shots of his own, instead of taking it and taking it from the antagonistic force.

Tron Legacy has an even worse problem than the protagonist sitting back and taking it. Over the course of the last 10 minutes or so, Sam has been all but replaced as the protagonist by Flynn. Following the fiasco at the club, Flynn is the one driving the action (stopping the falling elevator in the escape from the club, healing Quorra) and providing all the information to drive us to the third act. Sam has been just going along with it, suddenly demoted to damn near sidekick status in the The Jeff Bridges Show Starring Jeff Bridges, with Special Guest Star Digitally De-Aged Jeff Bridges. Also appearing: Garret Hedlund and Olivia Wilde. And it's only going to get worse in Act III.

But before we get to Act III, there are two completely unnecessary scenes that drag even more momentum from a story that’s already at a virtual standstill:

Back at the End of Line Club, Castor/Zuse negotiates with Clu over Flynn’s identity disc. Clu coerces him into handing it over, then his minions bomb the club, killing Zuse inside. It’s now been almost 15 minutes since the breakout from the club, and the lead characters are long gone. Why should we care about Zuze? And if the point is to remind us that Clu is a cold-blooded murderer… um, I think we got that when he exterminated all the Isos.

On the solar sailer, Quorra tells Sam the story of how Flynn rescued her from The Purge that killed the Isos. She asks Sam what a sunrise is like, and he describes it in romantic terms as he briefly looks into her eyes. This could be a charming moment that lets the story breathe, if it weren’t for the fact that this whole second act has been largely sitting on its ass for nearly an hour.

No. Just no, OK? Don’t even think it, Sam Flynn.

At one hour, thirty two minutes into the film, we now head into Act III. The solar sailer arrives unexpectedly at an industrial facility, rather than the portal. The trio finds barges of kidnapped, zombified programs, who they realize are being amassed into an army by Clu. As they skulk about the facility, Quorra gives her disc to Flynn and makes a run for it. While she's easily captured by Rinzler, her distraction allows Flynn and Sam to further infiltrate the facility.

Plot point two, in screenplay theory, puts an end to the the conflict of Act II and forces the conclusion that will play out in Act III. Here, it comes in the form of Clu’s speech to his army, in which he reveals his plan: he will use the army he has created and take it through the portal, using Flynn’s identity disc, to conquer the real world.

Straight-up Triumph of the Will here, because Hitler Is Bad is the easiest point in the world to make.

The conflict of the second act was Sam trying to get back to the real world, preferably with Flynn in tow. Now that they know Clu’s plan, they can’t just run away. They have a new goal: Clu must be stopped here, on The Grid. That’s what takes us into Act III.

Well, for what it’s worth of course. We burned an hour in Act II not doing very much action-wise, not doing anything thematically, and spending just a staggering amount of time in flashback info-dumps. The momentum has fizzled, and this movie wouldn't be saved by Act III even if it were great.

As it is, Sam and Flynn split up, with Flynn getting an escape ship ready while Sam makes an all-too-easy trip up to the throne room to recover Quorra and the disc. Seriously, Flynn’s disc is the most important thing in the world and you’ve got like three guards? It’s a pretty rote action scene that takes less than three minutes of screen time, and that’s with intercutting to Clu finishing his speech and reacting to an alarm when the disc goes missing.

As the trio take off in a stolen lightplane — with Quorra driving, Sam shooting, and Flynn calling the shots (because he’s all but the protagonist at this point) — they get chased by Clu, Rinzler, and their goons, basically replaying the lightcycle sequence, but now it’s flying.

And the thing about this is, the action doesn’t really lean on anything specific to Sam or Quorra that’s been established earlier in the movie. There’s one line about how Sam’s glider-assisted escape from the throne ship tower is a trick he learned a few nights prior at ENCOM Tower. But there’s nothing really thematically about Sam, who he is, what he values, how he solves problems — no “use the Force, Luke” moment — because the prior two acts never really set any of that up. So what’s left now is pew-pew CGI light show.

At least they should have gotten a good PS4 game out of this, right?

Dispatching the pursuers — including Rinzler, who turns out to be the corrupted Tron in a subplot that feels like it just barely escaped being left on the cutting room floor — the trio reaches the portal, only to find Clu waiting to confront them. So now, with Clu standing between them and their goal, does Sam take the role of the protagonist and vanquish the antagonist once and for all? Does he deliver the thematic truth, proving the righteousness of his world-view, and putting a bow on the whole point of the story?

What, are you kidding? No, of course not. Because this is Tron Legacy. Flynn does it instead.

If you squint, you can just barely see the putative protagonist, out of focus in the background.

Flynn offers a reconciliation; Clu rejects it Because Evil. After a brief fight, Clu retakes Flynn's disc, only to discover he's been tricked by a switcheroo and is holding Quorra's disc, while Sam and Quorra make their escape with the real disc. Clu attempts to stop them, forcing Flynn to use his Magical User Power to merge with Clu, seemingly killing them both, or at least reducing them to a little glowing light, which match-dissolves to Sam back in the real world, saving something (possibly Flynn’s data) to a USB stick.

After this climax, there’s just wrap-up bits of falling action in the real world to whip through before the credits. Sam finds Alan at the arcade, telling him to meet tomorrow morning at ENCOM Tower to retake the company. And we end with a cute shot — even if so much of the film doesn’t work, it is a lovely note to end on — of Sam on his motorcycle giving a now-human Quorra a ride and showing her the sunrise.

For the last time, Sam, do not bang your de facto stepsister.

So, what have we learned? I’d argue that the problems of the second act that doom the film aren’t just that not enough happens. That kind of audience-gets-bored-easily thinking is what gets us more dumb, loud movies. I think the problem of the second act is that it loses track of what the story was supposed to be about, if it ever had a point at all. The story raises a question of what would happen if the son ever finds his long-lost father inside the computer, but never settled on a good answer before they started banging out pages. And with no point to the whole exercise, there’s no natural pull of where the story should go. Perhaps it’s inevitable that Flynn ends up stealing the movie from Sam, because there’s no answer, no conclusion, that Sam’s story is working towards.

Still, the movie got one thing right: ORIGINAL MUSIC BY DAFT PUNK.

It’s a widely acknowledged truth that the Tron Legacy soundtrack is the best coding music ever created. As a software engineer, I can confirm.

#tron legacy #second act trouble #three act structure

4 notes · View notes

asoulofatlantis · 1 year

Text

The Machalania-Temple was always one of those temples were I had real trouble remembering what I had to do when I was facing the Trial but this time, it took me no time at all to get it done. I am impressed by myself. My brain is really bad at remembering things and its been AGES since I last played FFX but for some reason, this apparently has finally found its way into my long term memory XD In any case, we are getting closer to the mid-final of this game now. The difficulty will rise from here on out. But we are prepared.

This has always been one of Wakkas biggest issues. If he needed someone to blame, he blamed the AlBhed. That was the easiest way for him to deal with things he could accept or understand. Chappus death happened because he chose a machina Weapon that was made by the AlBhed and operation Migen failed because of the AlBhed Machina and everything really is the AlBheds fault in his eyes. Thankfully, he will learn his lesson soon enough. But this is, while Wakka is otherwise a nice character, something that makes you fancy him a lot less for a while.

You know whats fun? I never really noticed myself, that we were literally on Sins back this whole time. I saw a video on YouTube a while ago who explained it and proved it by showing the ruins on Sins back and all and it makes absolut sense too. But I always thought we were standing just on some random ruins beneath the temple and Sin just suddenly showed up. In truth, the reason we survived that fall, is likely because we fell on Sin, but I only see that now.

There is something motherly about Lulu and I really like that about her.

To be fair... Wakka really had it rough for a while ^^’

Both Cid and Rikku speak Spiraisch without even so much as a dialect. Brother doesn’t. Makes you wonder why...

BTW... whoever made the background-sounds for this part of the game hopefully got fired.

Even when Tidus straight out asks the question, they all keep quiet. I really think its just cruel and mean at this point. He must face the truth eventually anyway. Plus, I get the: “It was just to hard to say” - part, but wasn’t it also hard hearing Tidus talk about what happens after Sin all the time?

It took them half of the game to finally officially reveal that and it hit extremely hard. We as the player could have easily gotten the hints until then, but as I mentioned before, to hear them confirm it, is still different from just thinking that this might be the case.

Also... watching Tidus suffer. Watching him realize what he had said and done, knowing that he never had bad intentions and all, was really painful.

Who is cutting onions here? This scene always hurts my heart a bit. And I love how Valfaris looks like she understand Tidus pain and wants to comfort him, even tho he hit her in his desperation. She is one of the faith. One of them who isn’t allowed to finally find rest and over and over again for a 1000 years she had to watch summoners sacrifice themselves. So I believe she truly can understand Tidus pain and desperation.

Someone give this boy some baldrian! He needs to calm down! I understand his anger and frustration and I know that he just wants to see Yuna and apologize to her and all that, but he really needs a calm head first.

Its a bit funny... I find Tidus cool and all in that scene, but for some reason it suddenly reminds me of Rean promising to Towa and the other that Crow would come back to them so they can graduate together. I was so angry at Rean back then, because he wasn’t thinking at all when he said that. It was just his wish that that would happen, but he had not been willing to think through how that was supposed to work, given how he had been talking about a freaking terrorist who shot the chancellor. Tidus here too, is just guided by his emotions. His wishful thinking defy all logic. He doesn’t want Yuna to die, so she wont. He want to find a way, so he will. That he is facing a cycle that has been going on for 1000 years and that, if it was easy to break, would have been broken a long time ago, doesn’t even hit his stubborn head in this moment. Playing young man who are kind of still boys somehow, can be exhausting, I tell you XD (Now I finally have reached the point where I understand what Auron always meant, when he said young summoners aren’t easy and always causing trouble and stuff like that. It probably shows tho, that I am getting old XD)

Uh... I don’t think Steam can deal with this animation XD Its embarrassing, given how expensive my computer was.

#FFX Mona Version

0 notes

abra-ka-dammit · 1 year

Text

i used to super not understand OCxCanon shipping but seeing as how i started doing it i was wondering what changed from me playing ffxiv vs WoW and i think i figured it out (tl;dr will probably be "wow has mediocre writing")

i never really....liked WoW's canon characters. I mean, sylvanas is (was) cool and hot and ysera and alexstrasza too and i guess khadgar was cute for a second but i also just sorta dont give a rats ass about them. whatever happened in canon to them didnt matter to me one way or another aside from how/if it affected the main storyline.

so i figured there must be something different about the story characters in ffxiv that lets me Like them, right? and i guess this is kinda true of my feelings towards real life people as well, to a degree; the difference is, you get to KNOW them.

Using Aymeric as an example as he was my first Oh No I Love Him: while he is undoubtedly Hot (sesshomaru vibes, i have a few Types when it comes to animu boys kjfghjkkfj), i didnt really care about him at first, and actually thought he seemed kinda like a dick after the first handful of pre-HW interactions. lowkey figured he had to be one of those Secret Villains bc he has a Certain Look too lol but thats besides the point. anyways. as things progress, Aymeric becomes less The Commander Of The Temple Knights Character and becomes... a person. You get to see him have emotions, and speak casually, and care about things besides The War In The Plotline. You see him have friendships and connections and moral quandaries and regrets and he even Develops a little, in a way that is supported by the events youre actually shown and makes sense. so just like with Real Humans, I started to feel like i Knew Him, and because he also happens to be a delightful "person", I then Liked Him (seriously, not until like 1/4 of the way thru HW) so I could then accidentally get a crush on him

okay, so looking back at WoW. If I sit here and think about characters I Sorta Liked. There's that withering nightborne duder who helps you out with killing his fallen kin and then ends up falling too and we all were like NOOO about him. I guess I kinda liked him: he also had a Backstory that showed you what he Felt and what he Cared About because in order to make his little story arc tragic, they had to make us Feel for him, and Like him, so we'd actually be bummed out he dies. As u probably understand by now I cannot remember his name but that is less--RUNAS? IS THAT IT? literally mid sentence lol im not editing tho this is stream of conscious writing anyways yeah my memory is fucked up EITHER WAY; that guys just a one-off character. after that questline he becomes irrelevant, and we move on.

so who did i like who's actually like, a reoccurring character?? so, let's say, i guess, sylvanas. she's hot too (not as hot as aymeric sorry) and as usual, at first i didnt give a rats ass about her. mind u i didnt start playing until wrath and never played any of the RTS, so i didnt know her backstory for a while. once i eventually learned it, i finally felt a little sympathetic, but the recklessly deadly vengeance thing gets old pretty fast and they really didnt add anything of significance to her shown-in-game persona for a WHILE. so I didnt "like" her and i continued not to, for a long time, because she was just "the dubiously evil leader of the forsaken" to me. then the whole thing with her becoming warchief happened. watching her when voljin died made me think Aww... She Seemed Sad And Not Ready For This and i hoped to see her get some cool emotional conflicts and redemption arc stuff where she went from only caring about her own people and revenge and she started to love the horde as a whole, but instead, she flipped and did a hitler on it. i thought it was cute when she had that like. SINGLE romantic scene with nathanos because finally we saw an Emotion besides Murderer-Feeling. then they kept pulling this OoOOoH Is She Being Manipulated By Dark Forces? But Who Is The Dark Force? mystery bullshit that just seemed to go on forever--because it DID, for multiple expansions. you cant have your entire explanation of someones actions just be ~mysterious dark forces~ that long and think anyones gonna give a shit about her, can you?? then suddenly she's ripping holes into hell and the whole time its just vague, unexplained Evilness and then, oh, it was mega-satan controlling her--or is she betraying the mega devil?! oh no she's even more evil than satan, or is she good now? why? WHO KNOWS, AND WHO CARES BY THIS POINT!

and dont even start about thrall's growth and stuff because i absolutely did not feel a thing for that guy the whole time lmao

anyways youd prob say Well, Sylvanas Is A Bad Choice For This Example but the reason I chose her is bc she's the only main NPC I can think of that I ever KINDA connected to. because the game never really showed me... idk. motives. they would pull big plot twists and then fill in the blanks later with unconvincing bullshit instead of giving us behaviors based on specific morals and beliefs and drives that theyve presented in a character overall, where a plot twist can happen and we go "ohh, yeah, I get why they would decide to do that even though I didnt expect it". when they occasionally did manage to write a character i started to like, it would just be for a specific one-off questline, or just a quick Aww He Died moment briefly after introduction instead of Just Doing It With All Relevant Characters So I Actually Give A Fuck About What's Going On A Little Bit

anyways i finally lost this train of thought, if u read this all bravo and also That's Sad please spend your time doing better things lmao

#stupid shit #high postan

1 note · View note

bluexiao · 3 years

Text

Lazy Mornings

—in which they decide to sleep with you for a little bit more

CHARACTERS: albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, scaramouche, venti, xiao, zhongli; reader

THEME: fluff! domestic. pre-established relationship.

NOTES: i swear i really need someone to wake up to in mornings must be nice:( anw enjoy! I still am a bit busy but aaaa kazuha banner is so near! Who else is excited??? also omg exactly one month before my bday what

ALBEDO knows both his and your sleeping patterns, and he often leaves early to do his experiments or just because he’s used to starting the day productively. Although there will be times that he will stay on the bed, most likely those times when you are facing his side and he just can’t help but be allured by your beauty—he still thinks you’re pretty in your sleep:( and he’s probably the type to lightly brush his fingers on your cheeks in appreciation and contentment while a soft smile is grazed on his face. pls have you seen the smile he has on the event? yeah that’s it but a much softer one

CHILDE sometimes wakes up early to attend to his missions. There are times that you would have to wake up alone because he’s busy. However, if he’s not and his day is free, he stays with you and you would even wake up earlier than him. When you do and you try to get out of the bed or his arms, he would whine, even in his sleep—or is he half asleep?, and try to stop you until you have no choice but to relent to his wishes.

DILUC is also a rather busy man. It’s almost impossible to see him on the other side of the bed—almost. He can be persuaded when you unconsciously reach out to him or if you already have an arm around his own arm or even his waist, not allowing him to go anywhere for the meantime. He’d hate to wake you up and if he is indeed free for the day, he will try to close his eyes again to sleep but not before pulling you more towards his warmth and place a sweet kiss on your forehead, all the while brushing the hair off of your face. Then, you two will sleep for until you want to.

KAEYA does have moments when he stays in bed, but most of the time, he does have things to do for his work as the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius. During the former, when his eyes flutter open and see you awake but still half-asleep—yes you two wake up at the same time, he would open his arm wordlessly and you’d automatically nuzzle into his chest while he drapes his arm over your form, letting the cool temperature of the early morning be enjoyed by the both of you and the drowsiness take over once again.

KAZUHA, on the other hand, is probably the rarest, especially if you don’t work with him at the Crux. However, he does take the initiative of going back to your shared home and stay there whenever the Crux or Beidou herself decides to come back to Liyue for a while–maybe for her to see someone from the Qixing since she got called again, he supposes. Anyway, he’s one of those who actually stays on the bed with you and waits for you to wake up. He has this habit of waking up, opening the windows to get more fresh morning air and then go back to you; looking at you lovingly for a little while before leaning in and lightly pressing his lips on your temple before falling into slumber again, feeling at peace with you here with him.

you’ll rarely see SCARAMOUCHE, and if you do, he doesn’t stay any longer. At those rare times that he does stay in, he’s particularly lazy that day and he just wants to lay in bed for a couple more minutes. An hour would be nice if the others don’t decide to wake him. Those are the only times that you’d wake up with an arm over your head and his hand by your back while his other one was draped over his eyes, as if he had woken up but decided to sleep in once again. At these times do you let yourself enjoy the moment and eventually wait for him to wake up, even falling unconscious when you feel sleepy. And if he is still with you, he’d probably wake at the same time as you and look at you at least softer than he does usually, a certain kind of emotion in his eyes but you’ll never fathom what it was, it’s just there. Little do you know, it’s his own way of showing admiration and value—his still-sleepy mind wondering how much longer could he keep someone like you in this chaotic world of his.

VENTI is not only a bed hogger, and he hogs you too—literally. He likes clinging onto you and it would be so damn hard to get away from him. He’ll whine whenever you try to escape, telling you “Don’t go~” probably with closed eyes. He’s half-awake, you see. So whenever he feels lazy in the morning—which is practically almost most of the time, you’d have to stay in and be lazy too. If you have important matters to attend to, you’d have to convince him that you do or you’ll just have to sneak out since he’s quite a heavy sleeper especially if he went by Angel’s share the night prior. Nonetheless, if you do stay, he’d pull you even more to him and hook his limbs over your own, preventing you from escaping his hold before fully going back to sleep.

adepti don’t sleep, XIAO often says. What he meant to say is that adepti don’t need sleep but most of them do anyway. There’s not much to do so why bother not to? For him, he just doesn’t want to sleep because he doesn’t need it, simple as that. Meaning, it is extremely rare to wake with him by the other side of the bed and he’s still sleeping. Whenever you do, he might have fallen asleep while propped up, one leg on the bed while the other dangling outside, leaning on the headboard, arms crossed. If you so much as move a little bit, he’ll wake up and be wary of his surroundings before turning his gaze on you with “Are you going to get up?” When you shake your head no and nuzzle near his side before closing your eyes, he’d hesitate a little bit. However, you’d feel a hand by the back of your head, palm pressed on the pillow, as if showing in action about his next few words that will lull you back to the dream world. “Rest more. When you wake, I’ll be here.”

ZHONGLI has a schedule and he’s very responsible about it. However, ever since you had moved in with him, he had become accustomed to staying with you until you woke up when he didn't have work to do for the day or when Hu tao allows him to take the day off. He would sit by your side, still, on the bed, a hand hovered over your head to softly caress your hair. Sometimes, he has a book on hand as he waits for you to open your eyes. But when you call for his name and tell him to sleep a little bit more with you, he’d close his book and put it away while chuckling softly, “Well, if that is what you wish, here I am. You can sleep as much as you want.” And he’ll still continue caressing your hair because he knows it just soothes you and will help you get back to sleep easily. He will decide not to do the same but he may do so anyway because looking at you makes sleep more alluring than before.

#genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #albedo x reader #venti x reader #kazuha x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin oneshots #genshin fluff

2K notes · View notes

caitimetravels · 3 years

Text

she's insignificant

chapter 10: where you've gone

the umbrella academy x (fem) reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: none

masterlist

with a sigh, y/n stood. five was still writing away behind her on the walls non-stop. she didn't dare interrupt him, simply leaving. she would be back anyways. all she needed was a nice walk.

as she wandered down the street with no destination in mind she spaced out, eyes trained on her feet. suddenly someone knocked her shoulder and brought her back to reality. she raised her head, hoping they weren't someone looking to start a fight or argue with her.

"y/n?" instead she was met with allison. her technically older sister seemed frustrated.

"allison? are you okay?" y/n's eyebrows furrowed, looking up at the curly haired woman.

"yeah.. i think so" she frowned, "i'm worried about vanya. she won't listen to me but her boyfriend, whoever he is.. i think he's dangerous. i couldn't find anything about him-"

"you went searching for his records?" y/n pulled back in disbelief, "allison! you know vanya doesn't like-"

"i know, she already got angry with me" allison sighed, shaking her head.

"why would you do that?" y/n tilted her head up at her, eyes narrowing incredulously. "where are you even going?"

"well, i found his address. i was going to see if anything's weird.." she earned a disapproving look, "i can't just sit around and do nothing y/n! please, help me, for vanya?"

y/n's expression only darkened, "why are you trying to ruin one of the only good things in her life?! she deserves to be happy for once and im not going to help you take that away from her!" she begun to shout, freezing as she realised her powers were getting out of control in the middle of the street. "just.. leave them alone!"

she took off, hoping to get away, she needed to get away.

————————————————–

as the sweet melody came to soft halt y/n smiled up at her sister. vanya donned a similar grin, placing her violin down and joining y/n on the floor, cross legged and leaning back against her bed.

"one day, you're going to be amazing, v" y/n mumbled quietly, looking like she was in a slight daze, "more amazing than you are now.. you're going to be a famous violinist, i can see it now. 'vanya hargreeves, the world's best violinist'"

vanya softly nudged her shoulder, shaking her head. "no way, the world? c'mon"

"i'm serious!" y/n was adamant, sitting up straighter to see her better, "you're gonna be so cool! and everyone here is going to see you and say 'damn, wish i had seen how awesome our sister was back then' and you're going to have lots of fans!"

vanya snorted, shyly brushing her long hair to the side, "yeah, right"

".. you won't forget me when you're famous, right?" y/n leaned back against the bed to avoid direct eye contact, her voice was much softer now. "don't forget me.. okay?" she nervously side eyed her sister, trying to gauge her reaction.

"i could never" vanya shook her head, leaning into the h/c haired girl. both of them shared small content grins.

————————————————–

as she walked upstairs to five's room she heard a commotion, hopefully he hadn't gotten into a fight with one of their siblings again, right?

wrong.

"put her down" five snarled, holding a gun up to luther who held dolores' body out the window. y/n grinned at the sight, highly amused. who would have thought luther would ever threaten someone? well, y'know excluding their missions.. but five nonetheless? she leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossing and waiting for them to sort out whatever issue she walked in on.

"put the gun down, you're not killing anyone today. i know she's important to you so don't make me do this" luther paused, waiting to see what five would do. "it's either her or the gun.. you decide"

eventually five did decide that dolores was more important and dropped the gun before spacial jumping to catch dolores before she could fall. not that much damage would have occurred to the mannequin anyways, maybe a few scratches.

"i can keep doing this all day" luther spoke triumphantly, now holding the gun at his side. y/n snorted, catching their attention.

"you're such children" both glared at her in response, "c'mon, surely you have a better plan than whatever ended up in this-" she gestured vaguely between them, "squabble"

"we did not squabble" five hissed, placing dolores down and straightening his jacket. "but yes, i do have a one other plan"

————————————————–

the three of them, five, luther and y/n, drove down an empty road before slowing to a stop. five unbuckled his seatbelt and sighed, looking around.

"you know, i never enjoyed it" he started and luther turned to him in confusion.

"what?"

"the killing. i mean i was- i was good at my work and i took pride in it but it never gave me pleasure" he took a deep breath, "i think it was all those years alone. solitude can do funny things to the mind"

"yeah well, you were gone for such a long time.. i only spent four years on the moon but that was more than enough. it's the being alone that breaks you" luther placed a hand on the briefcase, "you think they'll buy it?"

"well, what i do know is that they're desperate. it's like a cop losing his gun" he alluded, "if the commission finds out they'll be in deep shit, well not to mention that they'll be stuck here until they get it back"

"i should hold onto it" luther suggested, patting it with one hand.

"hm?" five's eyebrows furrowed,

"incase they make a move on you" he added to explain his point.

"okay, luther.. but be careful. i've lived a long life but.. you're still a young man, you've got your whole life ahead of you. don't waste it" y/n snorted and five turned to her, unamused.

"what?" they stared at each other for a moment before five shook his head, looking away with a small smile.

suddenly a car began to drive towards them and they all made to get out of the car. "here we go" five sighed again, he was doing that a lot, y/n realised.

the car continued to drive past them, stopping a few metres away.

"if this all goes sideways.. do me a favour and tell dolores i'm sorry" five turned to luther who nodded slowly.

as five walked away from them y/n leaned back against the car.

"i have a bad feeling about this" she nervously picked at her nails and luther frowned, looking over at her.

"why? what's wrong?"

"that.. i don't know yet" she looked down the road, "i just.. feel like something's off" she shook her head as five walked back, leaning next to her.

luther stepped forwards a bit, "what happens now?"

"now we wait"

barely a moment later they heard the music of an ice cream truck. y/n squinted against the sun and wind, trying to work out who it was. she took a moment to focus, sensing klaus, diego and ben. uh oh.

as the car got closer luther turned to five, "is that her?"

"luther, you idiot" y/n shook her head, "it's klaus and diego" right on time klaus waved to them as they passed.

the two assassins begun shooting, thinking it was a set up and y/n raised her arms to cover her head as luther stepped in front of her and five to block any shots.

suddenly time stopped.. well, only for five.

he frowned down at y/n next to him, the girl cowering in on herself. he felt bad for bringing her into something like this but she was very persistent.

he slowly stepped under luther's arm, looking at everyone frozen in slight confusion.

"neat trick, isn't it?" a feminine voice called out behind him and he turned to face the woman he had asked to see. the handler. she stared at him, pulling the veil over her face up and onto her hat instead before pulling her sunglasses off.

"hello, five" she smiled, "you look good.. all things considered" she softly gestured to all of him.

"it's good to see you again" he nodded back,

"feels like we met just yesterday, 'course you were a little bit older then" she teased, "congratulations on the age regression, by the way. very clever, threw us all off the scent"

"ah, well, i wish i could take credit" five shrugged, looking away. "i just miscalculated the time dilation of projections and.. well, you know, here i am" his gaze met hers once again, throwing his hands up before putting them back in his pockets, casually.

"you realise your efforts are futile" the handler shifted so that her briefcase was behind her, "so, why don't you tell me what you really want?"

"i want you to put a stop to it" five moved his own hands behind his back.

"you realise what you're asking for is next to impossible even for me" she shook her head, "what's meant to be is meant to be. that's our raison d'etre"

"yeah?" five smiled sarcastically, pulling a gun from his shorts "well how about survival as a raison?"

"i'll just be replaced, i am but a small cog in a machine" the handler waved it off, ignoring the gun pointing straight at her heart. "this fantasy you've been nurturing about summoning up your family to stop the apocalypse is just that.. a fantasy. i must say though, we'll quite impressed with your initiative, your stick-to-it-tiveness, really quite- quite something. which is why we want to offer you, a new position back at the commission, in management" the handler held a hand up, smiling like her offer was an obvious choice.

"sorry what's that now?" five scoffed as she stepped closer, hand tightening on the gun.

"come back to work for us again, you know it's where you belong"

"well, it didn't work out too well the last time" he glared up at her, not liking the persistence.

"oh but you wouldn't be in the correction department any longer, i'm talking about the home office, you'd have the best health and pension and an end to this ceaseless travel" she laughed freely, "you're a distinguished professional in.. school boy shorts. we have the technology to reverse the process. i mean you- you can't be happy like this" she slowly pushed his gun down, stepping ever closer.

"i'm not looking for happy" he spat through gritted teeth.

the handler only tilted her head, eyeing him carefully before raising a hand to stroke his cheek, "we're all looking for happy. we can make that happen, we can make you.. yourself again"

five huffed a laugh, gesturing to his siblings. "what about my family?"

"what about them?" the handler raised an eyebrow, acting like she didn't already know he intended to save them.

"i want them to survive"

the handler took in a deep breath, taking in the sight of luther protecting y/n who was still crouching against the car as well as diego and klaus who were in the middle of crashing the ice cream truck.

"all of them?"

"yes, all of them" he narrowed his eyes at her,

the handler gave him a small smirk, moving towards the recoiled girl. five watched carefully, waiting to see what she would do.

"it's such a shame.. she would have done well with us. if only we could take her too" she reached a hand out, about to touch her but five moved first, spacial jumping in front of her and grabbing her hand. he held her away from y/n.

"don't touch her" he snarled, unmoving from his protective stance.

"my my, five, i didn't expect such protectiveness from you" the handler merely smirked, stepping away. as they walked back she once again proposed her deal.

"well" the handler begun, reaching a hand into her pocket and pulling out her sunglasses before putting them back on her face. "i'll see what i can do from them.. do we have a deal?" she reached a hand out to him, awaiting his acceptance. he merely stared at her hand before sighing,

"one thing" five stepped back, putting his gun in his shorts again. he walked over to hazel's gun on the floor, taking out the ammunition and chucking it on one side of the road before chucking the rest of the gun to the other. he turned and walked back, noticing the bullet headed towards luther and y/n. he frowned, using his pointer finger and thumb to move it over so that it would hit the car instead of them.

as soon as he shook her outstretched hand they disappeared and time was restored.

y/n shivered, ignoring the bullet hitting the car next to her and the way her siblings scrambled around to get away quick. she allowed herself to be shoved into the car with klaus and diego, spaced out.

"you alright?" diego turned to her while klaus stuck the middle finger up at hazel and cha cha.

"i felt someone else.. it was only for a moment but i felt someone.." she spoke solemnly, staring at her shaking hands. "and then five just.. disappeared"

tag list: (if your name is crossed i couldnt tag you) @rxses-and-reverie @lostgreekgod @on-yourmark-99 @bicyhot1 @navs-bhat @midnightmystic @shawkneecaps @baby-bi-bi-bi-yeah @velveticxyyy

#tua #the umbrella academy #tua x sibling reader #the umbrella academy x sibling reader #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #luther hargreeves #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #vanya hargreeves x reader #luther hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader

444 notes · View notes

seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Fracture

i apologise in advance.

Miya Osamu x female reader

TW non-con, dub-con, psuedo-infidelity, referenced character death, angst, drunk reader, gaslighting, age gap, the slightest hint of nsfw

‘Yer still coming home for summer, right?’

How many weeks had your sister spent lovingly bullying you into coming down? How many hours had you spent listening to her gush over the phone about how excited she was?

And until about three months ago, you’d been excited too.

Despite the ten or so years between the two of you, there was nobody on earth you loved more than your sister. When you were sixteen years old and your parents passed away in a car accident, she was the one who stepped up to take care of you, putting a roof over your head, making sure you ate, slept and kept up your grades, balancing two jobs to do it.

And she grumbled and you fought, but she’s the only reason you managed to keep it all together enough to graduate high school, and when it came time for you to leave home for university, she was the one blinking back tears and loudly complaining about you ‘abandoning your poor older sister in her time of need’.

As if she hadn’t sat with you for hours, pouring over your options and gently nudging you in the direction of Tokyo.

“It’s just a few hours away,” you’d told her. “I’ll come back and visit you all the time.”

There was truth to that. The first six months of uni, you came home every other weekend arms full of expensive textbooks and mountains of assignments to write, but then she met Osamu.

You’ve never seen anybody fall so hopelessly in love as quickly as she had. Miya Osamu may as well have hung the damn moon in the sky for how your sister looked at him. And you suppose you can’t really blame her; he was stupidly tall, broad shouldered and handsome. Even back then his restaurant was a wild success, the man was talented and clearly knew how to cook. Nice was the wrong word to describe him, but Miya Osamu was good, and so long as he made your sister happy, that was enough for you.

And it wasn’t like he was the one to drive you away.

Osamu liked you – he let you camp out in his restaurant and work on your assignments when you desperately needed a change of scenery, stopping to humour you with conversation if it was quiet. He made you laugh, he was interesting, and the more your sister brought him around, the more you realised that you actually kinda liked the guy.

Things were just easy between the two of you, you never had to pretend to be anything but what you were.

You were the one who started putting space between you and her. It wasn’t intentional, at least not on their part, but somewhere along the way you’d started to realise that Osamu wasn’t the odd one out anymore; you were. She was building a life with him, and fortnightly visits turned into monthly ones, and then eventually it became once every few months and after that only on holidays and special occasions – their wedding being one of them.

At Christmas, cheeks flushed with alcohol, she’d pulled you into a one armed hug, pouting into your sweater. “You never come visit us anymore,” she’d sniffled dramatically, “I miss you.”

But it was Osamu – fingers laced with your sister’s, a hint of a smile curling at his lips – who’d voiced it. “Come spend yer summer break with us.”

Three months later you’d awoken to a call telling you that there’d been an accident. Your sister was dead.

Weeks pass by in a blur. Your classes are a haze of droning voices and mindless typing, you submit papers you don’t remember writing and you get good marks anyway. Your friends don’t know how to act around you, everything feels surreal, like you’re moving around in a dream, nothing touches you anymore. It hurts, but you’ve wrapped up that pain and put it someplace safe, seeking it out only when you’re alone and you just can’t bear the numbness a second longer.

The trip you’d promised to take back home to Osaka is the furthest thing from your mind, at least until Osamu calls you in the early hours of the morning, a week or so before the semester ends.

“Yer still coming home for summer, right?”

The word ‘no’ lingers on the tip of your tongue. The last time you’d seen each other was at the funeral, his face blank and hollow, eyes rimmed in red. He’d barely spoken more than a few sentences to you, but he’d stayed by your side the entire time, calmly thanking those who came up to express their condolences.

You’d lost your sister, but he’d lost his wife.

“Do you still want me to?” you ask him quietly instead. If you were in his shoes, you’re not so sure that you would.

Yet Osamu sighs heavily, and you catch a faint clinking sound on the other end of the line, like a bottle being set back against the marble countertop. “I just–” but he breaks off and something inside of your chest tugs. “I want ya here. The house is empty… she’s gone and I… I want ya here. Please.”

How could you possibly say no after that? Maybe you’ve been selfish, so wrapped up in your own grief and misery. You’d assumed that because Osamu had Atsumu he’d be okay. Not right away, of course, but he’d have that support around him – a support system that you were without.

It didn’t enter your mind that perhaps he was struggling too. That he was spending night after night alone in a house etched with memories of her. And just as you’d thought that Tsumu was the one keeping his head above water, maybe he was offering a hand to do the same for you.

—

He’s waiting for you on the porch when your taxi pulls up on the kerb. The driver’s nice enough to help you with your bags, but Osamu is quick to intercept, waving off the help with an impatient huff that almost makes you laugh.

“Yer here,” he says once he sets them down on the porch, grinning as he tugs you into a warm embrace.

It’s then that you get a good look at him, a proper look – and for a moment, you’re taken aback. You haven’t seen him since the funeral a few months back, granted, but Osamu doesn’t look the way you imagined him to – especially after your call the other night. There’s no hint of pallid skin, no bloodshot eyes with heavy bags underneath or a 5 o’clock shadow on his face. No, even with his dark hair still a mess, dressed in jeans and his Onigiri Miya tee, Osamu looks good. Healthy even, if the way the sleeves of his shirt cling to his biceps is any indication.

It takes you a second to realise that you’re staring, because Samu chuckles, brushing past you to bring your stuff inside.

“Y’know, most people start with a hello,” he calls over his shoulder.

Your cheeks heat, a hint of shame curling inside of you. Were you expecting him to be an inconsolable wreck? You know better than most that grief messes with people differently, and it’s not fair of you to judge him, however unintentionally, for not fitting that image of the grieving husband.

It’s a good sign.

“Hi, Samu,” you reply somewhat sheepishly, following him inside.

He’s already walking towards your old bedroom, the ‘guest room’ now (though you and he both know it’s always been yours), leaving you to trail behind the older man. Your intention is to stop him from going to too much effort, but as you walk past the living room, something catches your eye.

Or rather, the absence of something. Faltering in your step, it takes you a second to realise what’s missing, but as you glance around, brows furrowing in confusion, it hits you.

The pictures of you and your sister, the cute ones with her and Samu, the old family snaps that used to line the walls and sit on the TV unit, they’re gone. And it’s not just the pictures. The artwork your sister had painted that used to hang by the wall next to the kitchen, the little pot plants she’d doted on like children, hell, the throw that she’d knitted one winter that was always lying on the couch; they’re all gone.

The room feels almost alien without them, unfamiliar and cold. He’d hung up some cool photography stuff to fill in some of the spaces, but instead of homey it just felt… modern. Like the pictures you see in magazines of staged houses that nobody actually lives in.

And you must have been standing there for a while, because you don’t notice it when Samu comes back to find you still holding your purse, gazing around like a lost child.

“I didn’t get rid of ‘em, if that’s what yer thinking.”

You turn to face him, except Osamu isn’t looking at you. He’s gazing at the walls around you both, his face strangely impassive – except for his eyes. It’s impossible for you to miss the hurt that swims there, the faint sheen they didn’t hold only moments ago. “I packed them away – they’re in yer room if ya want to look through any of it, it’s just…” he trails off, finally glancing back to look at you. And once again, you feel that flicker of guilt slowly eating away at you. “It was painful, seeing her face everywhere.”

Before you left your apartment that morning, you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t cry today – but the tears come unbidden, and one moment you’re standing there staring at him and the next you’re choking on a sob, hand coming to your lips to try and stifle it.

Osamu’s there in a second, solid arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. He doesn’t say a word (what’s there to say anymore?) he just hums softly, stroking your back with a gentle hand as you fall apart once more.

—

It’s surprisingly easy for the two of you to fall into a rhythm. There’d been some part of you that was hesitant about this whole thing – despite having a relatively good relationship with your brother in law, you knew that the only real connection between the two of you was your sister.

Without her, living in the same space and trying to navigate around the holes that she’d left, you’d expected it to be at least a little awkward between the two of you. But with Osamu working full time, it was kind of a non-issue. Aside from the first day when he’d taken the morning off to help you get settled, he was usually gone before you woke up, and most nights he wasn’t home until nine or ten. How he worked such long hours six days a week without collapsing out of sheer exhaustion was beyond you, but you tried to make things easier for him, cooking dinner for the two of you.

“Y’know ya don’t have to do this every night, right?” he asks you one night, sticking the leftover chicken into the microwave. “I have a restaurant, I can sort out my own dinner.”

You don’t tell him that despite being a rather terrible cook, it was one of the things your sister made sure to do every night in the weeks following your parents’ death. You’d spend most of your day holed up in your room if you weren’t at school, but dinner was the one time you’d sit and talk with her. It became a ritual; something sacred and special between the two of you.

You’re a better cook than she was by far, no comparison for Osamu, of course, but it’s the only way you really know how to help with… whatever this is.

Instead, you just offer him a wry look from your position on the couch, “And yet, you never do.”

He scoffs at that, a hint of a smirk curling at his lips, “Why would I eat there when I know yer cookin’ for me?”

—

Of course, as easy as it is to slip into living with Osamu, you can’t escape what happened there forever.

It doesn’t slip your notice the first night you spend there; the spare toothbrush in your bathroom, the decidedly masculine body wash in the shower, or how one of the shelves in the vanity was stocked with shaving cream and cologne and a few odd skin care products. You’d assumed that they were Atsumu’s, spares stashed away for the odd nights he crashed here. There’s another bathroom off the master bedroom, so you know it can’t be Samu’s stuff.

Except you find yourself proven wrong one night, when fresh from your shower and clad only in a fluffy white towel, you open the door to find a shirtless Osamu filling the space, one arm propped up on the doorframe.

“Anyone ever tell ya yer a bit of a bathroom hog?” he asks, smirking down at you.

And you’re so taken aback, utterly confused as to why he’s standing there half dressed, why it matters how long you take in the bathroom – never mind that the only thing covering you from complete nakedness is your towel – that you can only stand there, gaping like a fish as he laughs, takes you by the shoulders and physically shifts you out of the way as he slides on past.

It takes you until the following morning – Osamu’s sole day off – to ask him about it, clutching nervously at your cup of coffee while he busies himself making breakfast for the two of you.

“Samu, um, about last night…” you timidly begin.

He glances up at you from the stove, a single eyebrow raised. “What about it?”

Your cheeks are already burning, eyes darting between his face and the mug in your hands as you struggle to find the right words to bring it up without making things weird. “Well, I-I was just wondering… um, why you were using my bathroom?”

You’re not sure what kind of reaction that you’re expecting, but the dark look that flashes across his face isn’t it. For a split second, your insides clench, terrified that you’ve said the wrong thing–

But as quickly as it appeared, Osamu’s expression smooths over. He exhales heavily, setting down the spoon in his hand as he turns to face you properly, and when your eyes flicker up once more, you realise with a start that it’s pity that’s taken its place.

And a second too late, the pieces inside your head fall into place.

“Oh.”

Osamu nods only once. “I can’t go in without seeing her lyin’ there… I thought ya knew.”

And it’s like all the air’s been sucked out of the room. She’d died in their bathroom – slipped on the wet tiles and cracked her head open on the edge of their bath, and Samu had been the one to find her.

Weakly your eyes flutter shut, bitter nausea churning in your gut. How could he stay here, sleep in the next room when–

“Hey, hey, calm down, I gotcha,” Samu’s voice is at your ear, and your head’s spinning, pounding, and you can’t breathe. The mug in your hand tumbles to the floor, your coffee spilling across the wooden floorboards as weak fingers clutch at empty air, and then those arms are around you once more and Osamu’s trying to soothe you.

Breakfast is forgotten as he tugs you towards the couch to sit. And as he holds you, speaks to you in that calm, unwavering voice you try to focus on the scent of him (masculine and earthy, a hint of spice and cedar), the fabric of his shirt under your cheek and the gentle, almost lazy circles he rubs into your side and not the mental image of your sister, lying broken and bleeding on the bathroom floor.

—

It doesn’t take much effort to find the stash of your sister’s things that Samu set aside in your room. You lose hours flicking through pictures of her, smiling through your tears as they dredge up old, happy memories of the two of you.

Even the ones of her and Samu, his arms looped around her waist, resting his chin on the top of her head; she’s always wearing that bright grin that makes your heart ache.

There are a few of the three of you – one from the last time they’d come to visit you in Tokyo and you’d dragged them off to Disneyland. You’re standing between the two of them, beaming at the camera while Samu’s arm hangs off your shoulder and your sister, grinning widely and wearing the minnie mouse ears she’d bought at the first opportunity, tosses up a peace sign.

Softly wiping away your tears, you set it aside. You’ll have to ask Samu if you can take that one home with you.

—

“What’re ya doin’ tomorrow?”

It’s late, and the two of you are sprawled out on the couch, watching TV with a bowl of snacks between you like the old days when he asks.

“Not much,” you reply. “I was going to go to the markets at some point in the morning and maybe head to the beach after that, why?”

Grey-ish brown eyes flicker across to you, “A few of my old teammates are in town, we’re meetin’ up for some drinks. I want ya to come with me.”

“Oh,” the word slips out before you can stop yourself. “Um, yeah… if you want?”

It ends up sounding more like a question, a fact that doesn’t slip past Osamu if the amused little snort he gives in response is any indication. And it’s not that you don’t want to give up your plans in favour of going with him; you get along pretty well with Atsumu and you’ve met most of his old teammates at least once or twice, it’s just that you’re a little confused as to why he’d want you there to begin with.

They’re all at least twelve years older than you, and while it occurs to you that maybe he’s just inviting you along to be polite (not that that’s ever been his style before) the last thing you want is to be stuck feeling like an afterthought, all but ignored as he and his friends catch up.

“I said I wanted ya there, didn’t I?” He doesn’t wait for a response, “‘sides, Tsumu already asked if you were comin’.”

Which is how you find yourself dressed up for the first time in months, fingers smoothing out the hem of your dress as Samu tosses you a lazy grin from the driver’s seat. “Relax, wouldja? They ain’t gonna bite.”

You know that. They’re good guys, but no matter how much rationalising you try to do, you can’t seem to quell the anxiety eating you up, and the frustrating thing is that you don’t know why you’re feeling it.

He’d neglected to tell you that they weren’t meeting at some bar or restaurant, but at Atsumu’s condo in the city (‘Showy fuckin’ bastard’ Samu’d huffed as he’d pulled up in front of the building), but you suppose it really doesn’t make much of a difference.

“Ya look good,” he compliments, eyeing you for a moment while the two of you wait for the elevator.

Cheeks warming, you drop your gaze and stutter out a quiet thank you. Apparently unsatisfied, he leans closer, reaching one large hand up to gently ruffle your hair – grinning in satisfaction when you shriek and try to pry it away. “Relax,” he whispers again, the warmth of his breath tickling the bare skin of your neck. “Yer too wound up.”

Distracted by the arrival of the elevator, you fail to notice that instead of returning back to his side, his hand drops to your shoulder.

And it should be easier to do just that once you have a drink in hand. Atsumu greets you with a one armed hug, the only hint of anything out of the ordinary being the way his gaze lingers a beat too long as he studies your face, his eyes sharp and missing nothing. But whatever he sees (or doesn’t see) his expression softens into a smile, “Glad ya came.”

But even as you’re greeted by the others, falling into an easy conversation with Kita and Aran you can’t seem to shift the uneasiness in your stomach. There’s something in the air, a tension nobody really wants to admit to.

And you can’t quite tell if the others are surprised that Samu brought you at all, or if it’s just because you’re a living reminder of a tragedy that’s still fresh and raw, and everyone’s trying to pretend that it’s not. You don’t blame them for it, of course, they only mean the best. But you can see it in the way Suna side eyes you every now and then, how skilfully Akagi skirts anything that could touch a nerve when he comes up to chat.

It’s like they’re all walking on eggshells – though whether it’s for your benefit or Osamu’s, you’re not entirely sure. For his part, Samu sticks close, keeping your drink topped up, an arm slung over your shoulders as the afternoon wears into the evening.

Yet despite that, the alcohol you’re drinking far too quickly starts to work its magic, filling your body with a warm, pleasant little buzz, and you actually start to enjoy yourself. You laugh easier, giggling when the twins start to bicker, gasping in wicked delight when Suna offers to show you certain embarrassing photos of both of them on his phone (he has quite the collection), even letting Gin and Tsumu drag you into taking shots with them.

And all the while, Samu watches you, a soft smirk playing at his lips.

—

By the time he unlocks the front door and you stumble back inside, you’re absolutely plastered, giggling at nothing and tripping over your own feet.

As always, Samu’s there to catch you, strong, muscular arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Careful there, princess,” he laughs.

You grin up at him, carefree and heartbreakingly beautiful. For the first time in months you feel light, you feel amazing and you don’t want this to end. Kicking your heels off, you skip inside, leading him by the hand. “Samu,” you call back over your shoulder. “I wanna dance.”

“Nobody’s stopping ya.”

“But there’s no music,” you pout, and once again he chuckles, letting you go to settle back into the leather couch as he pulls out his phone. A moment later a familiar, lively melody floods the living room, and you let yourself become lost to it. It doesn’t matter that you’re drunk and dancing alone, Samu’s dark eyes following your every move, you’ve never felt so free.

Arms raised in the air, hips swaying hypnotically to the beat, you lose track of time. It could’ve been minutes or seconds or a whole hour, but suddenly you’re not alone anymore – Samu’s there with you. His cologne invades your senses, why does he always smell so good? His body’s warm, almost hot as he slots himself behind you, caging you against him.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, his voice sending shivers running down your spine. “Yer a little tease, ya know that?”

And there’s something wrong with that, you know there is, but you can’t seem to think of what it is – not when the weight of his hold’s impeding your movement. A pout adorns your face, a soft, almost petulant whine escaping your lips as you try in vain to untangle yourself, “Samu, lemme go. I wanna dance.”

He huffs out a laugh, but that doesn’t sound right either. “Don’t wanna dance with you, pretty girl.”

There’s something hard pressing against your lower back, and his hot breath ghosts over your neck a moment before lips descend to suck on the sensitive flesh.

In a split second, all that blissful, warm, drunken happiness evaporates. Samu groans lowly, his chest rumbling at your back, but there’s a pit of something cold and urgent that’s seeping through your veins, distant, foggy alarm bells tolling inside of your head and you don’t understand what’s happening, but you know that you don’t like it.

You want it to stop.

“S-Samu,” you whine, shifting uncomfortably against his hold.

This time he listens, drawing back just enough that he can turn you around to face him. And those familiar eyes are hooded and dark, burning with an intensity that makes you want to recoil even as he stares down at you, taking your cheek in hand.

You don’t even realise that you’re crying until his thumb’s brushing away your tears. There’s nothing comforting or pleasant (nothing of the Samu you know) on his face as he studies your fearful expression, but eventually he lets out a heavy sigh.

“She was positive I was cheatin’ on her,” he admits. “Did she ever tell ya that?” He pauses for a beat waiting for a reply, but when it’s clear that you don’t have one for him, he just scoffs, “No, ‘course not. That’d be admitting that not everything about our life was picture perfect, and heaven fuckin’ forbid we do that. Y’know, that's why she wanted ya back here so bad. She needed a buffer.”

Bitterness clings to every word like poison and you flinch, renewing your struggles to get away. Not that he lets you – the moment you start to squirm the arm around your waist tugs you closer, anchoring you against him. The tears come faster, followed by soft, hiccuping sobs, but Samu seems beyond caring at that point.

“Stupid bitch never could see what was right in front of her face. That’s what we were fightin’ about that night; she said she was gonna leave me.”

Your heart clenches, fear pooling in your gut, but Samu just smiles at you, a mockery of sweet tenderness, reaching back to tuck a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. “But you know I’d never hurt my pretty girl, don’t ya, baby?” he asks. “Just want a taste tonight.”

You don’t even have time to suck in a breath before he’s kissing you, cradling the back of your head as his mouth moves hungrily against yours.

And all you can taste is the whiskey on his tongue.

—

You can’t tear your eyes away from your reflection in the mirror, the faint, reddish blemish colouring your neck.

A hickey.

Tentatively, as if trying to prove that it’s real and not a figment of your imagination, you prod at the mark, only to wince at the tenderness. Definitely real.

You’d woken up to an empty house – unsurprising considering it was well past ten and you knew Osamu had work today – with your head pounding and your mouth uncomfortably dry. Wracking your brain, you can’t seem to conjure up a rational explanation for the bruise. Granted, you can’t really remember much of last night, only fragments of being at Atsumu’s place, and certainly nothing after you’d started taking those shots.

Which doesn’t make the uneasiness sitting heavy in your stomach any easier to take, because you know that you hadn’t been cosying up to anybody before you’d lost track of the night, and if it had happened after, then surely Samu or one of the others would have stepped in and put a stop to it.

And that should’ve been more of a comforting thought than it was, because if it didn’t happen at Atsumu’s then that meant it happened afterwards, when you were here with Samu.

Your heart thumps unevenly against your ribs.

Osamu. Your dead sister’s husband, your brother in law.

A hickey on your neck isn’t just a kiss. It’s not a simple, drunken peck against your lips, it meant that somebody had sucked on the skin, bitten at it, kissed until blood vessels broke – it’s not the kind of thing that happens accidentally.

A wave of nausea threatens to overtake you, and you barely manage to make it to the bathroom before you’re violently emptying the contents of your stomach into the porcelain bowl. And you know as you collapse onto the cool tiled floor, shaking just a little, that this time at least, the alcohol isn’t to blame.

You know Samu; you trust him implicitly. Whatever happened, it must have been a mistake or something. You’d both been drinking, and he’s still grieving and–

There’s no point jumping to conclusions or working yourself up any more than you already have. You’ll just bring it up with him when he gets home, you decide.

Yet anxiety and guilt gnaw at you as the hours crawl by, you’re half tempted to pick up your phone and just call him to ask point blank. The clock feels like it’s mocking you every time you glance up, and while you try your best to distract yourself with household chores and then busying yourself with dinner, none of it works for long.

By the time he does stride through the door, a little before ten, you’re an anxious wreck, all but wringing your fingers as you sit rigid and tense at the table. Most nights you eat before he gets home, hunger getting the better of you, but tonight you don’t seem to have much of an appetite.

“Smells good,” he comments with an easy grin, toeing off his shoes and dropping his wallet and keys by the door.

You open your mouth, but the words seem to get stuck in your throat as he drops a kiss down on the top of your head and walks on past to grab a bowl from the kitchen.

“I’m starving.”

Instead, you just swallow nervously as he pulls out the seat next to you and sits, not wasting another second before digging in. Your eyes quickly dart over to study him, but you don’t see any hint of guilt or unease on his face. He just looks like the same old Samu, a little tired maybe, but otherwise totally normal, and so you force yourself to pick up your spoon and follow suit.

And he’s never been one to fill silences with meaningless chatter, but tonight the quiet between the two of you feels oppressive, every clink of metal against ceramic echoing too loudly, every chew, every swallow setting you on edge. You can’t even taste the food, your stomach too twisted in knots for you to feel anything but nauseous after a few bites.

“… Is everything okay?” he asks after a few minutes, and it’s so sudden amongst the tense silence that you visibly jerk, almost dropping the spoon you’d been toying with.

You glance up to find him staring, brows furrowed in concern, and once again your stomach flips. It’s now or never.

“Um… did anything happen last night?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Osamu’s frown deepens fractionally, and he tilts his head as your fingers twist in your lap, “What d’ya mean?”

Did we kiss? The words dangle on the tip of your tongue, but as you nervously meet his eyes, you find nothing but confusion and concern there. And for a moment, you almost speak them, but then Samu’s reaching across the table to take your hand in his, and as his warm palm swallows up yours, you lose your nerve.

“You sure yer okay?”

Whatever happened, he doesn’t remember it and neither do you.

Smiling tightly, you nod. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Nevermind.”

There’s no reason for you to drag him through the mud for this, you’re already feeling enough guilt and shame for the both of you.

—

You try to put it out of your mind, but it’s not that easy.

Lying awake in bed at night, your brain unwittingly turns over possibilities of what else could’ve caused the mark if not Osamu. Guilt gnaws at you every second that you’re around him and all the while he’s painfully oblivious to it all.

He’s always been affectionate with you, but all those stray, unthinking touches now carry a different weight with them. You find yourself ducking away from them more often than not, pretending that you don’t see the almost wounded look in those greyish-brown eyes when you do. You start to avoid him, finding other places to be whenever he’s home.

And you hate yourself for it, because Osamu’s been nothing but faithful to your sister for as long as you’ve known him. You’re the one acting like there’s something wrong between the two of you, like he’s treating you any differently than he always has when you know that’s not the case.

You know that, but when you catch sight of the fading bruise in the mirror, your stomach twists into knots all the same.

There are excuses and justifications aplenty, but none of them make you feel any better. You still find yourself sniffling into your pillow, swallowed up by your guilt when you imagine how devastated your sister would be if she knew.

You’d let her husband kiss you. Being drunk and miserable and grieving didn’t change that. Whether he knew it was you or mistook you for her; it doesn’t matter. Maybe it was a mistake, letting him talk you into coming.

Things were still too raw, too fresh. You’d thought that coming here would help, but so far it’s only made everything worse, and unintentionally or not, you can’t kid yourself that your presence is doing anything to help Osamu anymore.

You need to go back to Tokyo.

Somewhat selfishly, you’re tempted to put it off until the weekend, because you know that Onigiri Miya has a stall for the beginning of the summer festival and he’ll be too preoccupied with that to think about anything else – but you just can’t bring yourself to do that to him.

No, it’s better to rip it off like a bandaid; nice and quick.

You’d planned on breaking the news over dinner, but as you pick your way through your noodles, you notice that Samu’s quieter than he usually is. Every time you risk a glance up he’s staring at the table, looking entirely lost in thought, and it just doesn’t feel like the right time to bring it up.

Tomorrow, you decide, you’ll cook his favourite for dinner and tell him then.

—

The knocking startles you from your sleep with a jolt. It’s quiet, hesitant almost, but you’ve always been a light sleeper.

“Samu?” you croak out, fumbling blindly for the phone at your bedside to see what time it is.

The door opens, a crack of light from the hallway spilling into your room as Osamu looks in. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “I know it’s late, but I need to talk to ya ‘bout somethin’.”

He’s shirtless, clad only in a pair of cotton pyjama pants, but he doesn’t look to be in any immediate kind of trouble. Still, he wouldn’t have disturbed you in the middle of the night if it wasn’t something important, so you blearily wipe the sleep from your eyes and force yourself to sit up as he slips into your room and shuts the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?”

He hasn’t bothered to turn on the light, and even with the moonlight streaming in through your window, his face is cast in shadow as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed. And it’s silly, especially considering he’s the one who’s shirtless right now but it’s hard not to flush at the realisation that you’re only wearing a thin, satiny slip. You feel almost naked – he’s seen you in bikinis before, but it feels different here, when he’s the one in your bedroom.

“You asked me the other day about what happened the night we went to Tsumu’s,” he begins, his voice quiet and soft in the early hours of the morning, and suddenly your state of dress is the last thing on your mind.

Swallowing tightly, your pulse quickens and you still, waiting for him to continue.

And you feel, rather than see, the way he stares at you, inching a fraction closer when you don’t immediately answer. “And I lied. Or I didn’t exactly tell ya the full truth.”

“Which is?” you force out.

Samu’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep, slow breath in and exhales heavily. “You were drunk and ya came onto me, tried to kiss me.” You flinch, a choked sound escaping your throat at the blunt admission, but he’s quick to reach for you, his hand coming to rest on your knee, squeezing it reassuringly. “And in the heat of the moment, I let ya.”

Hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but the moment you try to turn away from him, biting your lip and trying to blink back the tears, he stops you.

“Osamu–”

“‘Cause I’ve spent years waiting to kiss those lips, an’ I’m tired of pretending we both don’t want this.”

And he’s kissing you; soft and sweet and gentle, his lips molding to yours as he cups the back of your neck. You wonder if he can feel your pulse racing under his fingertips as he draws himself closer, groaning into your mouth.

It doesn’t matter that your hands are on his bare chest, pushing at him, hitting him – those muscles aren’t just for show; he’s immovable. The more you squirm, trying to extricate yourself so that you can plead with him to stop–

This is a mistake. A horrible, awful misunderstanding. He’s upset and grieving and not thinking clearly and you have to stop this.

He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

– the more his grip tightens until it starts to hurt and you’re whimpering into the kiss. Your tears are wetting his cheeks, but he doesn’t care, won’t stop and there’s a panic that rises within you every second that you’re entangled with him.

“Don’t do this,” he mutters, breaking the kiss as a sob rips its way free from your throat, “Don’t pretend ya don’t want this, baby. I know ya do. Stop being a little fuckin’ tease.”

He leans back in, intent on capturing your lips again, and in an act of desperation you reach for his face, cradling his cheek in your hand. “Samu, please,” you beg, wide, imploring eyes searching his face for any hint of a reprieve. “You’re scaring me. Stop, please, j-just for a second.”

Just a second, that’s all you need to try and snap him out of whatever the hell this is. One second.

Osamu stills, his face mere inches from your own, his body hovering atop yours. His breath, ragged and uneven, ghosts over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, but you don’t dare move as he leans into the touch, grey eyes fluttering shut.

He sighs, the sound almost like a shiver. “Ya don’t need to be scared, ‘m gonna take good care of my girl.”

He doesn’t give you the chance to say anything else, not as he forces himself onto you once more. You used to marvel a little at Osamu. Tall, handsome and strong, even in his mid thirties; Samu was fit. Now, straddling your waist, pinning your wrists to the wall with one hand, the other palming at your tits, he dwarfs you entirely. He isn’t impatient, not as he kisses you languidly, not as he slides the soft, satin up your thigh, revealing your underwear.

Your hiccuping sniffles aren’t enough to move him, you’re not strong enough to physically fight him off. He doesn’t pay the tearful, breathless pleas sobbed out between kisses any mind.

Osamu grabs you by the waist and flips you onto your front, lips brushing at the nape of your neck as he smooths your hair back, and you’re utterly helpless to stop him.

And as his hand runs down your side and he coaxes your hips up into the air, you almost wish that he was rough. Because this pretense of gentleness, glinting steel masquerading as silk – it’s too intimate, and you feel complicit.

Like you’re willing.

Like you want this with him.

An act of love as he tugs your panties down to your knees and hums in quiet satisfaction at the sight of your bare cunt, glistening just for him.

There’s a voice in your head telling you you should be screaming and kicking and snarling like a wild, feral thing, but Osamu’s grabbing at your ass, spreading it to get a better look, his thumb gliding along your slit and all you can think about is the picture he’d packed away, the one of the three of you at Disneyland.

Samu’s arm slung over your shoulder, and your sister’s bright smile.

He spits; a warm, fat glob of saliva hitting your pussy, and as it slowly dribbles down the only sound that leaves your lips is a soft, broken whine. You don’t fight him when he takes his cock in hand and guides the flushed head, pre-cum already oozing at the tip, along your cunt, you just lie there, a toy for him to move and manipulate however he wants.

“You’ll forgive me for this, I know ya will,” he murmurs, softly squeezing your hip just once as something thick and blunt presses at your entrance.

But it doesn’t matter, not as his cock sheaths itself inside of you with one hard, brutal thrust, because you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere osamu miya #yandere osamu x reader #yandere osamu #yandere osamu miya x reader #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: infidelity #angst #drunk reader #manipulation and gaslighting ahead y'all #dilf osamu

1K notes · View notes