#did i make sense? i have no clue i just wanted to rant about this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

depravitycentral · 10 months

Text

Partnership

Yandere! Uvogin x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, theft, threats of violence, implied non-con, if your name is Stacy pretend it isn't, Stockholm Syndrome, brief mention of vomiting, Nobunaga is featured a bit in this but don't worry he doesn't want you, fem reader, MDNI

This is dedicated to @ramwrites, who is amazing and wonderful and offered to write me a welcome back gift, and I couldn't not give something back in return! Thanks for letting me write this for you; your writing is so good and makes me all giggly and inspired. For those interested, please check out her Shalnark piece - I haven't read it yet, but I'm sure it's just as good as everything else Ram produces.

WC: 10K

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

“So you went and got yourself kidnapped, huh?” Uvogin asks, cocking a brow at you.

You, who’s tied to a metal chair, gagged and blindfolded, very clearly having no fucking clue what is going on.

You squirm, sitting up straight at the sound of a new, unfamiliar voice. Your cute little sleeping shorts had ridden up a bit, exposing more of your thigh than you were probably comfortable with, and Uvo notices with a distant sense of enjoyment that the thin nightshirt you’re sporting is doing very little to hide the way the cold air is affecting your chest.

You’re weak, really; a pathetic little thing that has him scoffing and crossing his arms.

“Listen up, I’m only gonna tell you this once. A friend of yours – Stacy, was it? Anyway, this friend of yours got herself noticed by the wrong type of guy.” He starts, plopping down and sitting in his own identical metal chair, just without the restraints.

You stop struggling when he mentions her name, and he takes this as a sign to continue.

“See, Nobuanga’s not a bad guy. He’s a little rough around the edges, sure, but any guy who isn’t is hardly worth knowing.” He chuckles at his own assessment of his closest friend, though you don’t seem to share the sentiment. “Stacy works at that shitty little restaurant he loves – the one with the sticky, greasy booths and the fries that come drenched with salt and are so limp they literally drip oil.”

He shivers at the mere memory, the hamburger he’d ordered barely worth eating.

“Don’t know what she did, exactly, but somehow he’s smitten – she’s got him all fucked up, ranting and raving about how beautiful she is and how she smiles at him all the time and flirts with him on the clock. Real annoying, if you ask me.” He sighs heavily, letting his thumb sit at his chin as he loses himself in the story of his best friend falling in love – with your best friend, no less.

“And then she quit her job, I’m sure you know. Started working up at that movie theater – more shitty, oily food, just popcorn instead of fries this time.” He laughs again. “Nobunaga went crazy over that, you know, thinking that maybe she wanted to work in a more intimate setting like that so that he could sneak her off into some abandoned theater and get some one-on-one quality time, if you know what I mean.”

�� You grimace, at both the implications of his last statement and the mention of Stacy quitting. You know exactly why she’d quit – it was the whole reason you’d been staying at her place, really. She was convinced she had a stalker, that there was this crazy man who used to bother her at the diner and follow her home. It’d scared her, obviously, and she’d requested – with a guilty look and fiddling thumbs – if you’d be willing to spend the next few nights are her place with her, because maybe if there was more than one person home he wouldn’t get gutsy and break in. Of course you’d agreed, believing her fully and not wanting to leave her alone to deal with this crazed freak.

Although now, you’re starting to regret that decision just a bit.

“As I’m sure you know, it didn’t change much. Pretty stupid, to be honest – if a stalker’s that dedicated, how the hell is a change of occupation going to change anything? Chick’s pretty dumb, if you ask me.” He shrugs, and although you can’t see it through your blindfold, you’re sure his face is awfully apathetic about the whole situation. “She was ignoring him, refusing to serve him at the theater, reporting him to her manager, even calling the police and getting a description of him circulating. She was going to get a restraining order against him, even – again, like that’d do shit.”

He snorts, and you bite into the gag harder.

Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling. “See, that’s the thing about Nobunaga. He might seem a little lazy sometimes, but he’s got a heart of gold when it comes to the ones he cares about. He’d do anything for that woman – steal for her, kill for her, anything at all. He’s a sap, totally obsessed with the chick, but it’s kind of sweet in a way, I guess. Means he really cares about her. Isn’t that funny? Her stalker really is in love with her.”

You don’t find it particularly funny, but you can’t say much.

“Anyways, the police finally got a sighting of him last night. Went through the system pretty fast – I’m a little impressed, to be honest. Normally takes those bastards much longer to process things. Regardless, a few too many sirens were going last night, even a few cars parked outside the apartment he’s been squatting in, yelling his name in those big, gaudy megaphones of theirs. Caused a real stir, and sent the guy into a panic.”

He takes a moment to breath, tapping his foot lightly on the ground. “So what does he do? He calls me, in the middle of the night, talking so fast that I can’t even understand the guy. All I’m hearing is Stacy this, Stacy that, police and blah blah blah recognized. I had to force the words out of him before it made any sense, the idiot.” That same laugh rattles in your ears.

“Eventually I got him to be coherent, and he told me that he had to ‘make his move’, whatever the hell that meant. Said he couldn’t wait anymore, that he had to take Stacy and run – the police were coming, and even though it’s not hard to take out a couple of poorly trained guys, it’s still a pain in the ass and Shizuku’s not here to clean up his mess.

“Anyways, he starts begging me – literally, actually pleading with me, imagine that – to come and help him out. He told me there’s this other chick at her place – some girl she’s been keeping around for some unknown reason, and he needs someone to take care of the body.” Your blood goes cold, fear suddenly creeping back up your throat.

Was he going to kill you? Why was he bothering to tell you all this if he was just planning on slicing open your neck? Did he find some sick pleasure in prolonging your death?

He notices your discomfort, it seems, because soon he’s rolling his eyes, scoffing at you. “Calm down. You’re such a bad actor – can’t even see your face, really, and I know you’re scared shitless now. I’m not going to kill you, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

You calm slightly, but not much.

“As I was saying, there’s this girl he needs me to take care of – a quick death, nothing too flashy, which makes me immediately ask why the hell he’d request me of all people, when every time I kill it’s messy. It’s kind of my trademark, you know?”

You didn’t, and you hoped it’d stay that way.

He sighs again. “Anyways, I head on over to Stacy’s apartment, meeting Nobunaga outside and listening to him run down the plan. He’s going to run inside and knock her out, pulling her out of bed and running off to God knows where he’s got all set up for the two of them. And while he’s busy doing that, I’m supposed to head in and eliminate the friend. Seemed easy enough, if not a bit tedious, so I agree and we head inside, keeping mind of the sirens still in the distance.

“Everything’s going smoothly, except once we get the front door open, it becomes very clear that Nobunaga was stupid and panicked and didn’t bother to doublecheck if Stacy was actually asleep.” He pauses to sigh dramatically, like it’s some big annoyance. “She’s fully awake, standing about ten feet away from the door, and then she starts fucking screaming.”

You remember that bit – the screaming, that is, because it had woken you up from your slumber on Stacy’s couch. Everything is still blurry after that, disorientation fogging your brain from being so abruptly woken up.

“She’s yelling and screeching, and if Nobunaga hadn’t been there I probably would’ve killed her myself just to get her to shut the fuck up. She’s got one of those high, shrill, shrieky voices, you know? The kind that really drive me up the wall - it’s damn annoying.” He pauses, looking at you skeptically. “Hope you haven’t got one of those, things’ll get messy real quick if you do.”

You hope you don’t, either.

“He rushes forward and tries to grab her, but she swats at him and, get this, manages to punch him in the dick.” He laughs aloud at that, slapping his knee and throwing his head back. “This weak-ass girl manages to get him on the ground flat, stupid ass’s hands clutching at his dick, and what does she do in the meantime? She runs over to the couch, grabbing this girl and staring back at me like I’m some monster.”

You make a noise through the gag, but Uvogin ignores it.

“I’ve gotta hand it to Stacy, though, she’s got guts. She starts yellin’ at us about how she won’t let us kill the girl, how she’ll kill herself before she lets us get our hands on her, and immediately Nobunaga crumbles. I don’t know why the idiot didn’t think of the possibility earlier, but he totally freezes up when she threatens that, just gaping like a fish. It was pretty awkward for me, to be honest, because watching him get so thoroughly rejected was giving me serious second hand embarrassment. I mean, the chick literally said she’d rather kill herself than let Nobuanga take her – pretty harsh if you ask me.”

He looks back at your covered face, letting his gaze linger on the edges of the blindfold. “So he panics and gives into her demand, telling her he won’t kill her friend – says that he’ll just take her too, so that way everyone’s happy.”

He frowns a bit at you, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, everyone except you, probably. And except Stacy, too, probably. And except me. So really, Nobunaga’s the only happy one.”

Your face would sour if it was able to.

“Anyways, it wasn’t hard to knock them both out and bring ‘em to their respective holding places. I’ve got no clue where the hell Nobunaga’s keeping his chick, but I’m sure you’ve figured out that you’re Stacy’s little friend.”

You nod, slowly, the movement limited by your restraints. Your wrists have gone numb and your ankles feel bruised and sore, the ropes keeping them pinned the legs of the chair making blood flow difficult.

“So, what to do with you now.” His voice is wistful, like he’s actually contemplating, and that same familiar fear washes over you again.

He groans, the chair skidding out behind him as he stands to his full height. “Would you quit it with the fear? I already told you I’m not killing you, are you even listening to me?”

You nod again, faster this time.

Uvogin sighs, shuffling forward towards you. You can hear him approaching, and although your shoulders stiffen up, you try not to look as terrified as you feel. It doesn’t seem to work all that well, but he spares you another comment about it.

Soon the blindfold is ripped off your head, leaving your hair messy and out of place, your eyes squinting and blinking rapidly to adjust to the rather bright white light hanging over you and what you can now see is an absolute behemoth of a man.

He’s fucking huge – towering over you in every sense of the word, muscles practically bulging out of his body with how defined and massive they are. Black hairs cover every inch of his body you can see, even his arms and especially the bits of chest peeking out of his white top. Ragged, unruly hair sweeps down to his shoulders, making the muscles of his neck look even firmer, and you gulp. Any chance of escaping has basically left you now – there’s no way in hell you could ever beat that, especially if he’d already managed to kidnap you once.

He clears his throat and your gaze is brought up to his face, a small, strange wave of embarrassment flooding through you as you realize you’ve been caught staring. He’s smirking, though, and you take in the sharp line of his jaw, the thick, dark eyebrows that frame equally dark eyes. He’s attractive, in a strange, rugged sort of way, and you immediately feel sick at the thought.

“You like what you’re seein’?” He teases, and you immediately look away, still unable to reply with the gag covering your mouth.

He laughs, and sets his hands on his lips. “Well, looks like you’re stuck with me. Before you freak out, I can’t kill you because that damn Stacy really seems to care about you, and she’s told Nobunaga she’ll kill herself if she doesn’t get regular proof that you’re still alive.”

A flame of hope ignites in your chest, and internally you thank Stacy, even if this whole situation is less than ideal.

He seems to sense your sudden upturn in mood, chuckling with a condescending lilt. “Oh no, princess, that doesn’t mean I’m letting you go. No, you’ve gotta stay put, because now that you know what I look like, you’ll go to the cops and report me as fast as those little legs of yours can manage.”

You shake your head at that, eyes glistening with tears as he shuts down your last hope of escaping. Please, you internally beg him, hoping he’ll somehow be able to sense this too. I won’t, I promise!

His gaze narrows at you, before that same smirk is back. “I’m sure if you could talk you’d be telling me how you’ll never tell a soul, but you and I both know that’s bullshit. So I’ll save us both some time and keep you here, so that I don’t have to track you down again and lock you back up once you’ve just gotten free.”

You visibly deflate, and if Uvogin had been a kinder man, he would’ve almost felt bad for you. But instead, he just hums, crouching down in front of you. Even squatting he’s still taller than you, and it does nothing to make you feel less scared.

“Now listen up, here are the rules. I’m a pretty nice guy, all things considered, so don’t break my rules and I won’t break your bones.”

Your eyes get wide, but you nod along. He smiles, patting your knee.

“That’s good, see? You’re already doing better than that Stacy girl, at least you’re not fighting me every step of the way.” Something about his statement makes guilt eat away at your chest – are you supposed to be fighting more? There doesn’t really seem to be a point – this man is massive, and you’re all bound and unable to move. You’re doing the best you can, right?

“First,” He holds up a finger, “don’t even bother trying to escape. I’m bigger than you, faster than you, stronger than you, and smarter than you. There’s nothing you can try that I won’t see through, and you’ll end up regretting it more than you can imagine.

“Second, no trying to hurt yourself. Nobunaga will kill me if I let you die, and it’d be a pain to deal with him.” He fixes you a stern look, and you nod.

“Third, don’t go digging through my shit. I’m doing my buddy a favor by keeping you here, and if I find you snooping around… He didn’t say anything about roughing you up a bit, and it might be good for Stacy to see you with some bruises or a cast or two.” His threat doesn’t go unheard, and you nod again, throat bobbing as you swallow.

He stares at you for a moment more, gaze calculating and judging whether you’ve really accepted his conditions, before strong fingers come up to untie the knot keeping your gag in place.

“Don’t you scream, I’ll have to shut you up if you do.” He warns, before pulling the fabric away. Immediately you’re flexing your jaw, the muscle aching as you move it, and he watches with a neutral expression. You’re still tied up, unable to move really, and Uvogin gets a fleeting thought of how pitiful you look.

“Um,” You start, your voice a bit hoarse from being so dry and unused for the last few hours. “What’s your name?”

He blinks, before laughing a bit. “Of all the questions you could’ve asked, all the things you could’ve said and done as soon as you woke up from learning you’ve been kidnapped, and that’s what you chose? Shit, you wouldn’t survive in the wild, would you?”

Shame creeps up your neck at his belittlement, but before you can defend yourself he’s answering. “It’s Uvogin.”

You nod, not willing to look at him. It’s silent for a few moments, before he sighs again and reaches forward to untie the rope shackling your ankles and wrists. As soon as you’re free, you try to stretch out your limbs, keeping a weary eye on the man – Uvogin.

What a stupid name.

“Well, the fact that you’re not screaming your head off is a promising sign. Get up, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.” He orders, already taking off towards the door in the corner of the small room. You try to follow him, but your legs aren’t moving right, and it takes you a while to make your way over there. He looks irritated at your lack of speed, but says nothing, only holding open the door until you make your way through.

You’re led down into a rather sparse apartment, only furnished with a single gray couch against one wall (with a few stains on it that make you wince a bit), a TV and some cabinets, a wooden table and two chairs, and a beat-up fridge in the adjoining kitchen. Everything’s clean, but the space lacks any sort of personality, and it makes you uncomfortable.

“That’s your bed, extra blankets are in the closet. If you need anything tell me, and I might snag it for you next time I’m out on a job.” Something about the way he says ‘snag’ makes you nervous, so you just mutter a small affirmation.

He gives you one last glance over, his eyes once again lingering on your chest, before stepping through the doorway.

“Wait, Uvogin!” Your voice, a bit wobbly and unsure, makes him turn back, his brow cocked and curiosity dancing on his features. (And a bit of surprise, too, because he hadn’t expected you to say anything to him, or even use his name. Maybe you weren’t as skittish and weak as you seemed – though, he doubted that.)

“Um, is it possible for me to see Stacy soon?” You asked, voice growing smaller with every word. He blinks, before standing up a bit straighter.

“Actually, you’re in luck. Nobunaga called me about an hour ago and let me know we’re meeting up in a few days – he said it would be good for Stacy to have a ‘playdate’ with you. Whatever the fuck that means.” Uvogin shrugs, looking entirely uninterested, and you bristle at Nobunaga’s choice of words. Poor Stacy.

Excitement brews in your chest; at least you’ll have a familiar face, and hopefully the stranger hasn’t done anything too terrible to your friend. Nodding, you glance back to the floor, wishing the hulking man staring at you would just leave. He does, a few moments later, and only then do you allow yourself to slump onto the bed he’s assigned you. The bedroom is bare like the rest of the home, with a twin bed set in the corner and a small set of drawers sitting nearby. It makes you laugh humorlessly – were you supposed to fill that chest? With what? You hadn’t brought anything with you, and you seriously doubted Uvogin would let you return home to grab some of your clothes.

Sighing, you sat onto the bed, the mattress firm under you. Distantly, some part of you was pleased – at least the bed would be comfortable enough.

Time passes slowly as you sit on the bed – not your bed, not yet. You stare at the wall ahead of you, the fear slowly seeping out of your system until only exhaustion remains. Sleep eventually takes over, and although you try to fight it, you’re slipping into a dreamless slumber before long.

Uvogin’s tolerable, you’ve found. He’s certainly not nice, nor is he an especially great person to be around, but he could be much worse, you suppose. He’s fed you twice daily for however long you’ve been stuck here (it feels like a week, so you’re assuming it is, if only to stave off any self-doubt that’s creeping into the corners of your mind), and the food’s not terrible. It’s clearly takeout, the packaging sometimes even having Chinese characters on it or restaurant logos, and you’ve been mostly satisfied with his choices so far. He’ll sometimes ask you what you want, and while you were too scared to answer the first few times (which only makes him scowl and roll his eyes, muttering a small damn, Nobunaga owes me one), eventually you’d felt safe enough to be honest.

He hasn’t hurt you, either. At least, not yet. You’re aware he could, if he wanted to – those muscles make it hard to forget, and you’d seen him crush his phone in his hand like a bug when a phone call with someone named Franklinwent poorly.

He’s scary, still, but you’ve reached the point now where you aren’t practically hyperventilating every time he enters the room. You still keep him in your field of vision, weary for any sudden changes in his behavior, but every day that passes has you growing more complacent with your position. The constant threat of Stacy potentially facing consequences for your actions doesn’t deter you from being on your best behavior, either.

Besides, sometimes he’s even a little bit funny – not that you’d ever laugh at his jokes, but he has this weird sense of humor that you think you’d like, if the situation had been different. If you’d met him on the street you definitely would’ve tried to cross to the other side, but you would’ve found him oddly charming, his snide remarks and cocky air a bit entertaining.

You try not to think about that, though, because the mere presence of these thoughts means the Stockholm Syndrome is starting to kick in. And while you aren’t the most resilient person on the planet, even you have to admit it’s a bit early for that.

Sighing, you take another bite of the curry he’d brought you, pleasantly surprised that the spice level was perfect. Uvogin didn’t have many rules, it was true, but he did have a few unspoken ones – one of which being that meals, particularly take-out meals, were to be eaten at the small, rickety table. Together, which wasn’t ideal.

“I’ve gotta make sure you don’t try to starve yourself or choke.” He’d told you the first time, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you into the seat across from his, the noodles sitting in front of you still packaged neatly in their container. At first you’d been nervous he would try to poison you, but eventually hunger got the best of you and you were slurping the noodles down, still keeping a nervous eye on the hulking man in front of you.

“So, big news.” He starts, taking a bite out of his chicken. He always took big bites, you’d noticed, but he ordered enough food that even if his pace was twice as fast as yours, he never finished before you.

You glance up at him, trying not to let toomuch curiosity show on your face, but he seems to realize anyway.

“I know you haven’t been up to much, but don’t make your excitement so obvious. Hurts my feelings to know you think I’m so boring.” He’s joking, you think, and to sate him you attempt to smile.

“Nobunaga called me again this morning; today’s the day.”

You practically choke on your food, eyes blowing wide and your hands beginning to shake. Finally, finally you’d be able to see Stacy – you’d been worried sick about her the last week or so, terrified that her transition to the life of being a captive hadn’t gone as smoothly as your own. (You snorted bitterly at that – smooth probably wasn’t the best word for how you’d been feeling, but at least you hadn’t been hit yet, or assaulted or any number of things. Hopefully Nobunaga wasn’t any worse of a person than your own captor.)

Uvogin is watching you, you realize, with a strange look in his eye. As soon as you glance up at him you look away again, clearing your throat and trying to keep your voice even as you ask, “That’s good, it’ll be nice to see her again.”

It’s silent for a moment, before his booming laugh makes you wince a bit. “Yeah, I’m sure you are. Finish up, I don’t like wasting food. Once you’re done we’ll head out - try to not to choke.”

He says that right as you start shoveling the food into your mouth, hoping that eating quicker will mean you can see Stacy quicker. He chuckles at you, but you follow his orders and slow down a bit. He throws you one more glance, that cocky smile on his lips, before digging into his own food again.

He’s eating a bit faster than normal, too, you notice.

He apologizes with an insincere tone as he ties the blindfold back on you (he’d told you that you can’t know where you are just in case you decide to get rebellious and run away), and soon you’re stuffed into a car. Everything’s hard to keep track of when you can’t see, but Uvogin’s talking (like normal), so you try to tune into the sound of his voice to help the time pass.

“Now listen, you might not wanna touch her too much, Nobunaga’s a bit…” He trails off, and you can hear his hand tightening on the steering wheel. “Possessive. You’re her friend and all, and I’m sure he won’t hurt you, especially not in front of her, but be careful.”

You nod, absentmindedly.

“Also, don’t be too surprised if she doesn’t look the way she used to. He was always going on about how she was dressed too inappropriately in her day-to-day life, so she might be a little underdressed.”

He’d hesitated to say underdressed, and you tried not to think about what that could mean.

It’s quiet for a few moments, and you shift in the car seat. He’d let you sit in the front, an unexpected luxury, but you didn’t like that he could see you while you couldn’t see him. He wouldn’t hurt you, you were mostly confident of that now, but who knew what he had planned.

“We’re almost there. If things go badly, I’ll get you out of there. You’re pretty damn weak, a broken bone would probably take a few weeks for you to heal. I don’t want to deal with you being injured, and I’m sure you don’t, either.”

Your lips must’ve given away your fear, because a moment later he’s sighing. “Did you know that you practically reek your emotions? I feel like I can smell ‘em, even when I can’t even see half your damn face.”

You don’t have anything to say to that, but you force yourself to speak anyway, not wanting to dignify his last comment. “Do you think – well, do you think Nobunaga will want to hurt me?”

Uvogin ponders your question for a moment, surprised that you’d spoken up. You hadn’t done much talking in the time he’d had you – he was sure it was because you were scared, but it was nice to hear you talking to him like you weren’t scared shitless of him. Even if you had every reason to be so terrified.

“Honestly, probably. Especially if you touch her.”

You suck in a breath, and Uvogin hums. “But it’s not going to happen.”

“What do you mean?”

You could practically hear his toothy grin.

“It’s my job to protect you, right? So I will. Even if the one you need protecting from is the same guy who wants you to be protected.”

Something in his tone gives you the impression he means those words more than he’s letting on, and you shiver as you imagine just who this Nobunaga guy could possibly be.

“Oh my god, oh my god – you’re alive! Thank god!” Stacy sobs, arms wrapping around you like a vice before you can even respond. You clutch her back just as tightly, burying your face into her brown curls, a few tears pricking at your eyes. You’d been nervous that Nobunaga would’ve hurt her, with the way Uvogin was describing him, but after a thorough look-over, you find no bruises or marks marring her olive skin.

Eventually she pulls back, but keeps her hands firmly grasping your shoulders. Her eyes are red with tears, and her lower lip is wobbling. She’s not hurt, but she looks bad – there’s heavy bags under eyes and her hair is frazzled, her lips look swollen and she’s clutching onto you hard. Really hard.

“Stacy, are you hurt?” You ask, letting your hands cup her cheeks. You see Nobunaga – who Uvogin had pointed out with a small that’s the guy when you’d walked in – stiffen up at that, and Uvogin’s warning flashes through your mind. You might not want to touch her. Right.

Stacy glances over at her captor, and you follow her gaze, only to see Uvogin give you a small nod and drag his friend out the door by the collar of his purple kimono, calling over his shoulder that they’ll be back in exactly five minutes, and that they’ll know if you try to escape.

As soon as the door closes, Stacy pulls you in for another hug, the words flying out of her mouth so quickly you can barely understand her. “He’s – Nobunaga, he’s horrible. He never leaves me alone, and he treats me like I’m some incompetent little baby, and he’s always touching me and I just – I can’t –“

You cut her off by pressing her face into your neck again, rubbing the back of her head and letting her cry. You’re crying too, now, but your tears fall silently compared to her sobbing.

You don’t say much, because what can you say? It would be a lie to tell her that everything’s going to be okay, and every other reassurance that dances on the tip of your tongue just feels wrong, like you’d be pointedly lying to her. Instead, you let her get it out, her grip on you never loosening. You’d known Nobunaga had been the root of all her anxieties the last few months, long before he’d gotten the gall to kidnap her. And while you were happy that she wasn’t hurt, it still pained you to see her like this.

Eventually she’d calmed down, and you feel her pull back and wipe at her sniffling nose. “I’m so sorry.” She whispers to you, looking like she’s on the verge of crying again. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess, I should’ve just gone quietly and left you alone. I shouldn’t have asked you to stay with me for a few weeks, now you’re really stuck with that monster.”

You don’t tell her that it’s okay, because it’s not. Some part of you is still bitter and resentful towards her for involving you, because she’s right. You could be still living your life if she hadn’t requested you to help deter her stalker from making a move. But despite your anger, you can’t find it in yourself to hate her. Not when she’s like this – not when she’s probably experiencing something even worse than you.

“It doesn’t matter now, all that matters is that we’re both alive, and we’re both okay. Or, at least, okay as we can be, given the situation.” You tell her, smiling softly. She blinks at you, eyes wide and vulnerable, before nodding and swallowing.

“Yeah, I was worried that you wouldn’t be, with the way Nobunaga was talking about Uvogin.” Her voice was hoarse still, and you laughed humorlessly at that.

“Yeah, well, he hasn’t hurt me yet, so I think I’ll be okay. He mostly just ignores me, honestly, so I guess I’m lucky.” Your attempt at optimism doesn’t make Stacy smile like you’d hoped. Rather, her lips pull into a frown and her eyebrows furrow.

“He ignores you? That doesn’t make sense.”

You expression mirrors hers. “What? I mean, the only reason I got kidnapped too was insurance so that you wouldn’t kill yourself –“

Stacy’s face morphs into one of horror, and her grip on your shoulders goes slack.

Quickly you’re backpedaling, worried the mention of her self-imposed death might’ve triggered something you wanted to avoid. “I’m not saying it’s your fault, I totally understand why you –“

“Alright, time’s up.” Nobunaga’s voice interrupts, and knuckly hands are suddenly on your shoulders, pushing you aside so that Nobunaga can stand in front of Stacy. You stumble back, falling backwards against Uvogin’s hard chest, immediately standing up straight.

Nobunaga’s cupping Stacy’s chin, and you can see from this angle the way he smiles, a slight pink color flooding his cheeks. It makes you sick, and the pained look on Stacy’s face only makes your gut sink more. She’s looking at you still, and something about the way her brows are cocked inward that makes you feel like she’s almost pitying you.

“Did you miss me, baby?” Nobunaga’s cooing down at her, and it makes your skin crawl. Uvogin sighs from behind you and grabs your wrist, dragging you out of the room. His grip is surprisingly gentle, and as you watch Stacy slowly fade from your view, you can’t help but be slightly grateful that at least your captor isn’t leaning down for a kiss like hers.

The car ride home is mostly quiet, and it’s not until you’re nearing the end of your time in the vehicle that Uvogin breaks the silence.

“So, what did you talk about while we were gone? Girly shit?” You think he’s attempting a joke, but you can’t even pretend to laugh at it.

“She’s not happy.” You comment, voice slightly flat, and Uvogin snorts at your words.

“Of course she’s not happy, she’s just been kidnapped. And by her stalker, no less – would anyone be happy? Hell, are you happy?” He asks you, and you blanch at his question. Somehow, though, it feels like some sort of trap, so you stay quiet.

He doesn’t say anything more until he’s pulling you out of the car, your footsteps hesitant and clumsy because he’d put that damn blindfold on you again. He guides you up to the apartment, and soon you’re standing in the living room area, the fabric falling from your eyes.

“I’ve got some errands to run today, so I’ll be gone for a while. Do you want anything while I’m out?” He asks, standing in front of the door with his arms crossed. You’re a bit touched that he’s offering to get you something, but you try not to focus on it. Of course you’re feeling grateful for him – he may be holding you captive, yes, but at least he hasn’t tried to kiss you or touch you. Poor Stacy didn’t share your luck.

“Um, maybe some chips? I don’t care what flavor, just something crunchy…” You trail off, looking at him nervously. You’d never requested anything before, and some part of you is convinced he’d only asked you the question to laugh in your face and deny you.

He cracks a smile and nods, hand already on the doorknob. “Okay. Okay, but you’d better be prepared to share, because I happen to be a big chip fan myself. So don’t get greedy, yeah?”

You half-smile, rubbing at your arm. “Yeah, I won’t be.”

He steps out the door, and once again the apartment is silent, his presence gone and all movement within the room gone, too.

The TV won’t work for you, you know that, but you’re still trying to get it to behave. Uvogin had to type in some password every time he turned it on, and it was too long and encoded for you to ever be able to decipher it. Still, you were clicking the power button of the remote over and over, hoping against hope that it would somehow short circuit and bypass that password screen. When it didn’t, you only sighed, rising to your feet and wandering towards the monitor.

Uvogin, you’d learned, was surprisingly meticulous – surprisingly organized, really. Meaning there was a chance he’d written down the password to the TV and had it stored somewhere. He’d only been gone for about a half hour, if the clock was any indication, and you had a lot of time to kill before he returned home. Not that he was your only source of entertainment – though, you’d read the single book he owned three times already.

Your knees crack as you kneel down in front of the cupboard the TV was sitting on, the wooden doors creaking as they open. The shelves are mostly empty – a few older remotes, and a cable channel guide.

Frustrated, you huff and let your shoulders slump, trying to decide what to do next. The TV obviously wasn’t planning on cooperating, though there was a cupboard right next to the one you’re searching through that could potentially hold the answer.

Uvogin’s rules distantly float through your mind, his gruff voice replaying in perfect clarity. Third, don’t go digging through my shit. Glancing back up the clock, you bite your lip. You had time, because while he was massive and huge and scary, there was no way he could get all his errands done in just thirty minutes.

With a deep breath, you move over to the other cabinet, letting your fingers curl around the knob. The doors don’t creak when they open, and immediately you’re scanning the shelves. These ones are full – with boxes, each labeled with a date on them. Cocking a brow, you examine the dates. January 4th – January 25th, April 29th – May 7th, and so on.

Intrigued, you slowly slide out one of the boxes, noticing not a single bit of dust is sitting on the cover. He must use this cabinet much more often than the one you’d been searching through previously, as a thick layer of dust had sprung up in your face the moment you opened the cabinet door.

The box itself is light, but you still set it down in front of you, your fingers delicate and careful, too worried that you’ll break something if you press too hard. And then Uvogin would know, surely, especially if he truly used this cabinet that often.

Slowly, you take off the box’s cover, and immediately your brows are scrunching together. What the hell?

When you’d imagined the kind of ‘shit’ Uvogin didn’t want you to snoop through, you hadn’t pegged it to be this. Whatever this was, that is.

It looked like a box full of receipts – tons of pieces of paper, all in weird sizes or shapes that looked like they were ripped out of some sort of notebook. The handwriting is messy, the letters all crammed together and difficult to decipher. You pick the paper on top up, turning it this way and that, trying to read the text.

Her: Sorry, I know it’s late, but I need to ask you a quick question.

Them: Yeah? What’s up?

Her: Do you think he’s alright? Chris, I mean – he hasn’t called me back for a few days, and I’m worried about him.

Them: You know Chris, it always takes him a while to respond. I wouldn’t worry, he’s just unpredictable.

Her: Yeah, I guess…

[6 second pause]

Them: Go to sleep, it’s late. You’ve got work in the morning, right?

Her: Yeah, I do. Okay, okay, I’m getting into bed now. Goodnight.

Them: Goodnight, call me when you hear back from him.

Her: Okay.

What was this? The ambiguity of it all confused you – who was her? Them? Chris?

You furrowed your brows, confusion sitting in your gut alongside a strange feeling. The hairs at the back of your neck prickled up, and a small pang of unease bolted through you.

Setting the piece of paper back into the bin, you picked up another one. This one was shorter, more to the point.

Her: Are we still on for Friday night?

Them: Yeah! Freddy’s, nine o’clock sharp. I’m buying, remember.

Her: You always say that, and you always get too shit faced to pay. Liar!

Them: Hey, I just know how to have fun! You could learn how to do that, you know.

Her: Yeah yeah, okay, I’ll see you later.

Your fingers are shaking as you finish reading the small, triangular slip of paper. Your lips are slightly parted, brows still crunched together. Something about the interaction between Her and Them felt oddly familiar – like something you’d heard before.

And the mention of Freddy’s. That’d been the name of a bar you frequented often with your friends, back before everything had gone to shit with Stacy.

Unnerved, you set the piece of paper back in the box and slide the box into its place on the shelf, running your eyes back over the listed date. August 28th – September 16th. One of your best friend’s birthdays was in that range.

Wiping your palms on your thighs, you try to calm the pounding of your heart. Something feels off, wrong in a way you can’t quite place. Surely, Freddy’s is a common enough name; it doesn’t necessarily mean your favorite bar. Plus, even if it does mean that particular bar, who knew who these people were. You surely don’t - who the hell is Chris?

Wanting to put some distance between you and the cabinet, you get to your feet again and close it, wandering away into the little hallway connecting the living space, bathroom and two bedrooms. Cupping some water in your hands from the bathroom sink, you splash your face, letting the cold wash over your skin. Closing your eyes, you try to calm down. It doesn’t mean anything – how could it? You’re probably just all shaken up after seeing Stacy and her freaky captor. Nobunaga disturbed you, you can’t deny it.

Sighing, you open your eyes, wiping your face with your towel. (Uvogin had been kind enough to give you one designated as your own, saving you from the horrible fate of having you dry your body with a towel that he’d already used.) Though you notice with a small start that the towel is wet, despite you not having showered recently. Odd.

As you turn to leave the room, you notice a shirt sitting piled up in the corner. It was black, and surely not your own – holding it up, it looked big enough to dwarf you. Must be Uvogin’s, then.

His bedroom is across from your own, and while you haven’t been inside it yet, it feels wrong to just leave his shirt on the floor, where it could get dirty and maybe even moldy. Besides, doing a little cleaning would keep you occupied – both from boredom, and from contemplating those weird slips of paper further.

You slowly open the door, immediately getting hit with a wave of musk. Uvogin normally smelled decent, but the scent in here is strong enough to make you wince a bit, the overwhelming stench of sweat, mint, and male making you a bit nauseous. To your surprise, the room is spotless – a very, very large bed sits floated in the middle, a navy and black flannel comforter covering the top while a few large, puffy pillows sit at attention at the head. A few pairs of boots are lined up in the corner, and a single picture looks to be taped up on the wall above them. Curiously, you step forward, moving towards the photo.

Uvogin had told you very little about himself – only that he worked as a contractor, of sorts, and that he didn’t have too many friends, so you wouldn’t have to worry about visitors. But now that you’re looking at the photo, you’re wondering if maybe that last statement hadn’t been so true – the photo is of a dozen or so people, all posing for the camera with various degrees of a smile on their face. Uvogin’s in the back, on the left side, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a shorter blond man, his blue eyes in a wink and holding up his thumb. Uvogin’s smiling, and as you scan the photo, you stop when you hit Nobunaga, who’s seated in the front row next to a woman with big glasses and a modified cross necklace. Everyone looks happy, and briefly you wonder whether Uvogin considers these people friends. He must, if Nobunaga’s present – an odd sort of satisfaction worms its way into your chest at the thought. You don’t like Uvogin, surely not – but still, everyone needs friends, right? Even kidnappers.

God, you really are starting to develop Stockholm Syndrome.

Shaking your head to try and clear the thoughts, you approach his closet and snag a hanger, trying to hang up the shirt you’re holding in your arms. The thing is tall, and as you try to get the hanger’s hook to wrap over the metal bar, your eyes fall to the side, noticing something out of the corner of your vision.

It’s a soft pink, and you cock a brow. Uvogin? Owning something pink?

Eventually, and with a soft grunt, you get the hanger to successfully sit onto the bar, and immediately you’re investigating the pink thing. This goes directly against his rules, you know – you’re quite literally snooping, but hopefully he’d still be out for longer. Besides, even if he comes back, you could just tell him you’re putting away his shirt, and maybe he wouldn’t call you on your half-lie.

Whatever the thing is, it’s wedged pretty far back in the closet – you’d only managed to catch a brief glimpse of it, and for good reason. There’s a storage container in the back of the closet, an organizer of sorts with some compartments that all seem to be stuffed full. It’s hard to see, the overhead light dim to begin with and not penetrating too deeply into the dark closet, but you’re able to fish out the pink fabric soon enough.

It's lace, you realize, your curiosity only doubling. That same pin-prickly feeling is back, and as you slowly flatten out the cloth, your breath catches.

It’s a thong. Pink and lacy, with a bow decorating the back, right over the tailbone.

But more than that, the thong looks familiar. There’s a thread pulled on the front right side, and a stain on the fabric at the very bottom, looking awfully similar to the color your own discharge makes once it’s been washed.

Your fingers are shaking again, and you stumble back a bit, the back of your knees catching onto the bed so that you fall back and land on your ass, too busy staring at the cloth in your hands to bother trying to situate yourself.

These panties are yours.

You’re sure of it – you know because Stacy bought them for you a few months ago. She’d cheekily handed them to you with a big, gaudy bow on top, a wink sent your way and a demure because I know you’ve got a date tonight, and I also know you haven’t gotten laid in way too long. That was the night you’d been set up on a blind date with a friend’s coworker. He’d been nice, though you hadn’t slept with him, and you hadn’t gone out again after that. He didn’t seem all that interested in you as a romantic pursuit, but he was funny, and you’d hoped you could become friends, at least.

And his name was Chris. And he’d gone missing a few days after.

You drop the panties, a hand coming up to cover your mouth.

You don’t want to, and you know you shouldn’t, but before you can stop yourself you’re rushing forward to the closet, digging back to that storage compartment and rooting around for anything else you can find. It must be a coincidence; it has to be a coincidence. These can’t be your panties, you must be mistaken – why would Uvogin have these? How could he have these? You’d lost them in the laundry a while back.

At least, that’s what you’d assumed.

Pulling your hand back, you see you’ve grabbed a few items. They’re smaller, not clothing, but nonetheless incriminating. There’s a chapstick container, with a strange flavor on it that you’ve only seen once, back when you won it in some weird fundraising fair you’d been at for your job. Kiwi banana grape, it said in curling black lettering, and when you pop open the top, you notice it’s almost completely empty.

There’s also a button; it’s black with a strange shape, one you recognize as being from your favorite jacket. It’d fallen off one day, but you’d been too busy walking around the city to have realized. It was a real bummer, because it’d rendered the jacket unwearable because too big a draft would sneak through it.

And lastly, there’s a bandaid – it’s old, you can tell, with a kiddy pattern of some fairies and a dinosaur on it that the nurse had apologized for having to use, telling you it was all they had available at the time. You remembered it – it’d made you laugh that you’d gotten your flu shot and she’d patched it up with a bandaid designed for six year olds, even going so far as to snap a photo and send it in the group chat you kept with your friends.

You feel sick.

Throwing the small items back into the compartment, you rush to the bathroom, barely making it before you’re heaving, all the curry you’d forced down your throat earlier coming right back up.

What the fuck?

Who was Uvogin? Why did he have all of this? How did he have all of this? What did it mean? Your head’s rushing, too many thoughts and implications swimming through your oversaturated mind, and you have just barely enough strength to flush the toilet and stand up, staring at yourself in the mirror.

Stacy’s words rush back to you as you examine your face, seeing your wide eyes and the way your chest is rising and falling with each harsh breath slipping through your lips. He ignores you? That doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense – none of it at all. Why would your by-association captor have any of your personal items? Especially personal items you’d lost or thrown away literal months ago, long before you’d ever started staying over at Stacy’s?

You know why, you just don’t want to admit it, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you try to come up with any other possible explanation. No. It can’t be. Stacy’s the one with the creepy stalker, not me.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door’s lock clicking open makes you snap up, adrenaline suddenly coursing through your veins. Uvogin’s home.

Immediately you’re running to your bed, jumping under the covers and shutting your eyes tightly, praying that Uvogin will think you’re asleep and won’t bother you. You need more time to figure this out – it’s all too much, and while it probably won’t be any easier the longer you wait, you need something.

You can’t look at him yet. You won’t.

“I got your chips! Didn’t know which flavor to choose, so I got three I think you might like. I’m serious, though, you have to share. I’m an animal, and I will steal your food.” He laughs at that, and you hear him set down the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Your eyes are still closed so tightly that it hurts, and you ball your fists up in the blankets as hard as you can. You’d curled up into a fetal position, and you force yourself to stay still as you hear his loud footsteps coming down the hall.

He calls your name, peeking his head into every room he passes. Soon he sees you in your bed, and although you look a little stiff, his shoulders immediately lose their tension. A smile flits across his lips, and he slowly, quietly shuts the door, retreating back to his own room.

You sigh, peeling open your eyes and trying to get your breathing under control. You’d been holding your breath, and now that he’s actually home in the apartment, it’s difficult to not let yourself panic.

It becomes much, much more difficult when you hear a noise come from his bedroom, though. What the hell’s this?

There’s a muffled curse, and your blood runs cold as quick, heavy footsteps lead right up to your door. He swings it open and your eyes fly shut, trying desperately in vain to appear like you’re still sleeping.

“Wake the fuck up.” He says, and immediately you open your eyes, your fear too strong to ignore. He’s holding the pink panties in his hands, and you realize with a small burst of terror that in your haste to get to the bathroom, you’d left them on the floor. In his room. Right where he can see that they’ve been moved.

Fuck fuck fuck.

"I only have three rules. What are they?” He barks, and you’re trying to curl up even smaller, hoping his promise of not hurting you will still ring true. Though, he’s lied about pretty much everything else – how do you know if that part wasn’t all a lie, too?

“No hurting myself, no escaping, and no – no snooping.” You whisper, and Uvogin bares his teeth.

“I’ve been good to you – patient, something that takes a hell of a lot of effort for me. And what do you do in return? You go and do one of the very few things I’ve forbidden.” He looks impossibly tall right now, towering over you with those muscles, the panties looking downright tiny between his monstrous fingers. “Tell me why. Explain to me why the hell you were snooping through my closet.”

You shut your eyes again, too scared to look at him. “I was putting away a shirt you left in the bathroom. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did it, please don’t hurt me, please –“

He interrupts you with a huff, and you tense up, waiting for some blow to land. It doesn’t, though, and after a good thirty seconds, you finally peel an eye open, almost too scared to see what he’s doing.

You don’t expect the small smile that’s sitting on his lips, nor the hand on his hip. He locks his eyes with yours, then sighs. “Well, this is most definitely not the way I wanted you to find out. See, I had this whole plan – Nobunaga came up with it, one of the very few things he’s ever thought of that actually impressed me.”

You’re confused again, but that sick feeling still hasn’t gone away. All you can seem to look at are your panties, wedged in his fist.

“He told me that since you and Stacy were so close, we could cut a deal – kidnap you both at once, get more bang for our buck. There was no way to hide Nobunaga’s feelings for Stacy, sure, but you? Well, you haven’t noticed anyone following you, have you?” Uvogin asks, cocking his head at you and letting his smile get a bit wider.

You quickly shake your head no.

“I’m better at this stuff than he is. He always gets too excited to talk to her, wants to interact and have her lookin’ at him. I get it, I really do. Even now, even with you scared shitless and looking at me like I’m about to kill you, just you acknowledging me is getting me hard as a fucking rock.”

Involuntarily, your eyes dart down to his navel, and with a small, strangled sound of fear, you notice the way there’s a prominent bulge forming in those shorts of his.

He laughs at your change in focus, and steps forward. Hooking a finger under your chin, he smirks down at you. “I’m better at hiding myself, and I was willing to play the long game, content with watching you until the right time came to snatch you up. But when Nobunaga offered, telling me there was a way to get you all to myself and make sure you grew to want me organically? Well, I couldn’t resist, could I?”

You want to tell him he absolutely could’ve, or that you wouldn’t have ‘wanted him organically’, whatever the hell that meant, but your tongue doesn’t seem to be working.

He leans down, face coming closer and closer to yours. “You had no idea, did you? How do you think I knew what kind of mattress to get you? How do you think I knew exactly what to order for you for takeout, even when you were too scared to tell me? How do you think I know what shampoo and conditioner to buy you, or even what kind of fucking cologne you like? Believe me, I’m only wearing this shit for you.”

You’re frozen, unable to move, unable to do anything but stare at him.

“Do you get it now, princess? See, Nobunaga doesn’t give two shits about whether you live or die – he’ll get Stacy to do what he wants no matter what. But me? I give a shit.” He’s so close to you that you can smell his breath. It’s minty, like he’s just recently brushed his teeth. The cold smell only makes you shiver, fear still tingling up your spine.

“Why?” You whisper, overwhelmed at his sudden confession.

He pauses at that, smirk falling away as he genuinely considers your words. He’s quiet for a moment, before he smiles again, but this time it’s not as predatory – there’s something oddly soft about it, and it makes you feel worse.

“Because you’re perfect. That’s all.” He answers like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and before you can say anything he’s clambering on the bed next to you. You want to fight him off, to jump up off the bed and run, but you can’t seem to find the energy to. Besides, you’re not delusional enough to think you could beat Uvogin in any sort of physical altercation or chase. And while he still seemed to be adhering to his promise of not hurting you, you didn’t feel like testing the waters.

“So I guess the jig’s up. I was hoping you wouldn’t find out, but I can work with this, too. At least now I don’t have to act like I don’t know you. And now, I don’t have to do all that respectful distance shit – you’re mine now, babe, and now I don’t have to hide it.” He’s grinning again, his teeth looking too sharp, and before you can blink he’s above you, your wrists pinned above your head and his lips inches away from yours.

“So why don’t I show you just how much your attention the last week’s been affecting me?” His voice is low, sultry, and makes you gulp. He presses his face into your neck, deeply inhaling and groaning. “I promise I can make you feel good… I’ll tell you my last rule, okay?”

You’re frozen, but when he pulls back to glare at you, you shakily mutter out an ‘okay’.

His grin is wolfish, predatory, scary. “Rule number four is no running away from me, even if that cute little body of yours can’t take anymore. Got it?”

You nod.

#yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere uvogin #_lee's fics #_lee writes for ramwrites #_uvogin #_hxh

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complete-clownery · 4 months

Text

Not me deciding that I wanna figure out how does Macaques dojo work, cuz I couldnt seem to find any ideas of it on the internet lol

Okay so long long LONG rant:

Ik that in canon the whole place looks kinda-- moldy and shit and I get the lot of hc about how Macaque probably doesnt even live there since its in a very industrial outer neighborhood of Megaplois, and also it probably isnt really decorated or looks like someone is living in there at all, but I like to think that he has standards and they put like 272636373 nois cancelation seals on their bedroom so he can sleep camly when he actually can sleep (since in my hc Macaque suffers from insomnia (its a pretty common hc tho, but you get it)) and I think the outer circle of Megaplois is even tho industral and under constructuion on most parts, its probably more quiet than downtown

And I also like to imagine, Macaque even tho if not commited to a place will make it more homy. But looking at my reference pictures, in the dojo there were also a lot of posters and paintings (and in MKAGC Macaque did mention he might have a poster of wukong soooo~~)

For the layout I went after whatever felt right, since I had like 4 pictures to piece together a two-story house with a gallery(??) so its actually just me deciding what I want and where I wanna put it

(Here are the screenshots from lmk s1ep9 I used:)

Okay Okay if you couldnt tell, for some reason im really hyped about this stuff so im going to lead you trough my thougtprocess, when imagining this whole thing, in order from ground level to gallery

1. Ground level:

Ahh yes ground level: the problem child

(Im going to keep it somewhat brief here cuz I wrote a shit ton of explanations for it, but that somehow got deleted which I am super pissed about btw)

So I saw that a lot of hc with Macaques place are mostly that first floor is the dojo and the second floor is the living area, buuut~~ based on the screenshots of the series that doesnt make any sense. My reasoning? Simple really, its bc you can see the ceiling If you are standing in the dojo. This could lead to the conclusion that:

"Okay maybe then there is no second floor just a gallery in there somewhere and thats it".

Sure we can say that, but then you would ignore the fact that you cant see the front door of the building when Macaque slams Mk into a weaponstand.

"Okay then its on the other side of the room that we never got to see in the episode"

I mean maybe sure but to me from an animation point of view it just doesnt make sense, just why would they flipp the camera angle like that (I mean anyone can think whatever they want, everyones opinion is valid, its not like anyone would ever argue me on this one ((or read this whole brainrot trough in the first place lol)))

Haha anyways regardless of anything, let's go back to talking about the first floor, shall we?

Everything is pretty self explenatory: when you come in on the front door youll see a little shoe rack where you can but your shoes, and one stair to seperate the ante-room from the rest of the house

Then theres a long hall that leads to the enterence of the storageroom, the random room and the staircase that leads to the second floor

I couldnt decide on what to put in that big room-- I had no clue -- I was thinking maybe Macaque could let other people rent it for a few days of maybe theres a shop with an owner whos ranting the place from Macaque (I think thats an interasting concept, but I didnt explore any of them) oh well thats that tho

"""somewhat brief""""

Second floor:

This was probably the easiest, since 90% of it is the dojo

But before that when you walk up to the second floor you can see a big boubel door that opens to the dojo, and a normal door that opens to the bathroom, which is strategicly placed there by yours truely. There is big brain logic behind it,, it might be inconvinient for Macaque to walk down the stairs from his bedroom trough the dojo to the bathroom (but also he can just shadow portal there--), but when ocasionally he mentors Mk, he might have to go to the bathroom while hes at Macaques place and I dont think Macaque would apritiate someone stomping trough his personal area, and thats why the bathroom is conviniently placed next to the dojo and not that far from the bathroom I know im a genius (**read everything in the bathroom part with a lot of sarcasm**)

Anyways, we couldnt even see all four of the dojos walls so that was also a 'gamble', but I went with a simple bouble door that I mentioned before and two weapon stands (yes those are weapon stands) and other than that you can see the rest of the room on the screenshots, theres also the staircase and that has some closet underneath it, but thats about it

The gallery (my personal favorit):

Looking at my reference pictures i could see that the dojo took up a lot of space almost taking up the 1/2 of the building, which I think is reasonable and kinda cool, but that means small living area which I think is even cooler (I am a huge fan of small practical spaces, they feel so so cozy)

So Yeah the living space: mostly two rooms that I also illustrated on top of this post, (you probably saw it) with a balkony thingy before the enterence of the rooms, where you can look down and see the entirety of the dojo, good for observing.

When you go in the door (actually havent decided if I want to put a door there or curtains for style but meh who knows who cares), youll enter the small but spacious kitchen. I dont see the Six Eared Macaque as a homecook, more of a fake cooking guy (only making basic foods like eggs or toast, maybe ocasionally pancake), hints there is no built in stove or owen just a portable stove, a kettle and a toaster and a small fridge that has MKs drawing (that he drew for them at the end of season 3) magneted there :]

Other than that theres a sink and an old television, he got from the randomest place ever, maybe he fished it out of the trash idk, but he put it on top of the cabinets (rarely watches anything on it)

On the baseplan you can see that there was supposed to be a small table next to the sink with a chair, but it didn't make it to the final drawing cuz let's be honest: drawing interior in correct perspective without a reference picture is just not my strongest artskill I posess, so I got pissed and put a trashcan in there, Macaque can eat in his bed

Talking about bed, let's move on to the Six Eared Macaques room:

It is very small but pretty comfortable with a small bed but a shit ton of pillows for a good nights sleep, other than that there are a nightstand that has the Lantern on it (I know it sorta got lost/destroyed after defeating LBD but I wanted to put it there) and a drawer.

The nightstand probably doesnt have a lot innit, just some nick-nacks and tissues and maybe snacks, or a book or something, the drawer stores some of his clothes, but since I like to think that Macaque is a fashion icon that wont be able to fit most of their clothes, so maybe he stores them in a pocket dimension of shadows, and only has some esentials there when he needs to get ready quickly.

And we could talk about the posters plastered around the room, but most of them are kinda self-explanatory, but there are the poster of his shadowplaly of the hero and the warrior, some drawing, a "Hang in there babygirl!" Poster with a cat on it hanging in there, a poster of the monkey king (heh), phantom of the opera poster and a-- well--- that ones for my bestie hope she'll notice it, its a spies are forever poster (really fun musical a of spies, go watch it its on youtube), and a drawing he brought( maybe)

And thats about the bedroom

And we are still not done, how are we feeling about that?? Huh?? (You dont have to answert, this shit took me about 2 hours to write :] )

LAST PLACE: the corner of the windows opposit the kitchen and the bedroom. Its just a chill little place with pillows and blankets, where someone can bundle up and enjoy some tea or read a book or brood, whatever the monkey prefers. The special thing about it, is that you cant access the place without knowing how to levitate, fly, jump high, or use portals, not that much of a game changer since more than half of the lmk cast could get up there, but still a bit of a barrier in my opinion

AAAAAND~~~ thats it omg

Hi hello if you read this trough could you please comment or reblog with this: "🐵" cuz I wanna know about the brave soilders who went trough this immense amount of clownery,,, holly mother---

If you read this all 👏👏👏 you are amazing thank you for appreciating my work this much, have an amazing day or night ✨🪲

#clowning ∆#clown does art #lego monkey kid #lmk #lego monkey kid macaque #lmk macaque #lmk six eared macaque #lmk headcanon #interior design

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 5 months

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Age of Khonshu, or as I like to call it: Oh no. Oh no no no no.

Age of Khonshu, written by Jason Aaron. 2018.

Who is Jason Aaron? A big writer at Marvel, he is best known for PunisherMAX (the ultras violent and non-marvel universe version of the Punisher), some runs of Thor (the one where Jane Foster becomes Thor), and certain runs with Wolverine: Weapon X. He also wrote Southern Bastard, which is a big name over in Image comics.

Another important fact? He was raised Southern Baptist that has since become an atheist.

That history out of the way, let's look at the sort of comic this is.

I have been putting off reading this little doozy for YEARS. Why? Three reasons.

This was not a good year for me personally. In fact, this was the start of some REALLY bad years to follow for the next 4 years.

I missed the original release and when I tried to find it to read it, no one had it. Not even the library. (This should have been my first clue).

This is a Marvel tie in event.

Now, I have ranted about these before and I'm going to rant about it again.

What is a tie in event? It's a big Marvel World event that attempts to do a large story-line that involves a lot of other big names (usually the avengers).

In Events, you have the main story line that involves the main character. So say, DareDevil is fighting a super ninja. You have the main story that takes place in DareDevil's comic "DareDevil vs. the super ninja" and in that comic, it's such a big fight that the avengers have to get involved, and maybe Dr. Strange and perhaps Brother Voodoo is getting a movie next spring so they want to showcase Brother Voodoo working with familiar faces so he's involved now too.

BUT. All these people involved also have their own comics running. They don't just want to keep going and ignore this big ninja fight that's happening. So then we have side event tie ins that pause their normal story-line to respond in some way to the event that is happening.

So Let's say Ms. Marvel has her story line going where she's been fighting some evil mob boss. She's suddenly going to pause that story. She'll suddenly come up on a hole hoard of evil ninjas and have to fight them for a single issue. But they don't want to loose steam with her evil mob boss because they have to get back to that in the next issue! So it turns out her evil mob boss HIRED those ninjas in some sort of attempted partnership with the evil super ninja. Just to highlight how evil the mob boss is!

Oh, and if you haven't been reading DareDevil or the Avengers or ALL THE OTHER COMICS INVOLED good luck trying to keep up with what's going on. So by the end of the event, you have to compile a LOT of comics together in a particular order so that you can fully understand what's going on.

Even worse? Sometimes the responding tie in comics that aren't really involved with the main story line try to solve the issue. So, going back to my example, Ms. Marvel not only defeats the ninja gang, but she discovers something amazing that will in the end help defeat the Super Ninja! She has single handedly helped bring it down! …In her own comic. It makes her look like the big hero and like she was crucial to the event….When in truth, she has nothing to do withthe main story line over in DD world and her little discovery won't have anything to do at all with how to bring down the Super Ninja in the end.

With me so far?!

If this sounds familiar to you, then congratulations, you may have read "Moon Knight Shadowland", which was infinately better than the main story line of Dare Devil Shadowland. (I'm still bitter about that one). Or the original Civil War saga. Or Seige. Or Dark Reign. Or Age of Khonshu.

Today, I'm here to talk about Age of Khonshu.

In which Moon Knight gets his own special event under an Avenger's title.

So how did they compile this event under an Avenger's title? We start with something that makes no sense to someone that has not been following the Avenger's comics.

Stepping further into it? This event follows directly after the 2017 BEMIS run. So we are moving from the worst run in MK history into Aaron's Age of Khonshu. The next comic after this didn't come out till 2021! That's a three year gap!

What's the story?

Mephisto (I hate Mephisto. He has been made basically into Marvel's version of the Christian Devil.) is messing with the time line and is going back in time to amass soul contracts with people and is slowly taking over the world or destroying it or building up hell. It isn't ever properly explained, but most evil things like this usually aren't.

For some reason Khonshu has seen the future of a world where Mephisto has destroyed it and done terrible things. So he puts these images into Marc's head. Marc, thinking Khonshu is out to fuck with him again (when isn't he?) tracks down Khonshu in one of his Moon Cult temples.

Khonshu tells Marc that he's terrified of Mephisto and Marc realizes that Khonshu isn't just fucking with him this time.

So he teams up and decides to…STEAL ALL THE POWERS OF THE AVENGERS AND GIVE THEM TO KHONSHU.

That's right. As someone told me, it's like watching a ten year old talking about how their character is the most powerful and can beat up all the other characters.

Moon Knight beats up Dr. Strange with the power of Khonshu and steals his magic. Then he beats up Danny and steals the Iron fist. Then steals the GHOST RIDER'S fire of vengeance. He goes after Thor on the MOON. Turns out Thor's hamer is made out of moon rock so Moon Knight laughs as he steals the hammer because he has the power of moon. He goes after the Black Panter and T'challa is just like "LOL No. My power comes from my ancestors. You can't steal that."

So they lock up T'challa in a pyramid.

YOU KNOW WHAT MARVEL MOVIE WAS COMING OUT IN 2018?! That's right, the first Black Panther movie.

So in this comic, it's going to feature heavily that Black Panther is super powerful and the hero of the story.

Giving Khonshu all these powers, he remakes New York into Khonshu World and imprisons anyone that fails to worship him, because he's an all powerful god that will stop Mephisto.

And he does fight Mephisto and kill him, but there are so many versions of him now, because he's the devil and you can't kill the devil.

And throughout this, Moon Knight worships and prays to Khonshu, calling him his god and how he's a follower, and believes that Khonshu is a powerful god.

The Avengers keep asking him to stop, that he's off his meds or something and mentally ill and they can help him stop Mephisto if he stops Khonshu.

Eventually Moon Knight realizes that Khonshu can't stop Mephisto and he's gone too far.

He prays to a different god and THE PHOENIX fire shows up and he becomes Moon Knight Phoenix.

He betrays Khonshu because now he is his own god I guess? Helping them take Khonshu down, he gives back all their powers and they lock Khonshu away in Asgard.

Now he expells the Phoenix from his own self before he becomes Dark Moon Knight and destroys the world.

Now the Avengers story moves on to them dealing with Mephisto in a later run, but Khonshu is defeated and that's the important part!

T'challa offers Moon Knight a place in the Avengers, rather than a jail cell in Wakanda for his crimes. Moon Knight turns him down and returns to a small part in Manhattan that he'd rather protect.

And that's how it ends.

Aside from the main story aspect of this particular volume of MK avengers, here are the MAJOR problems:

Throughout the entire run, there is HEAVY christian imagery and language.

They talk about the devil and how scary the devil is. They talk about Hell. They talk about angels. They talk about gods.

They especially show Moon Knight worshiping and PRAYING to Khonshu or Phoenix.

Moon Knight himself discusses fighting the Devil and going to Hell as a construct of the horrors he has seen and done.

2. Throughout the run, Aaron tries to pull out bits from Lemire. Referencing him and doing callbacks. It falls SO flat.

There is a scene early on where he does the "I am Marc Spector. I am Steven Grant. I am Jake Lockley. And we are Moon Knight" bit. But it's followed by a prayer to Khonshu because he is the Moon God's accolyte.

Later he talks about how Marc expelled Khonshu from his mind and had healed and was his own man again. He talks about how Khonshu had put horrors in his mind that made him ill.

He then talks about how he frequents a certain mental hospital.

Not only is he referencing Lemire, but he's taking it in the wrong context. This man read it and went "Yeah sure I got it" when he clearly didn't.

In Lemire's run, we see Marc dealing not just with how KHonshu used and abused him and how messed up he was, but we also see him coming to terms with his own mental illness and trying to understand himself. To understand that he himself had been abusive towards himself. His self harm attributes. His pushing people away. We see him learn to embrace the 'what if' aspect of after mental illness. We see doubt and we see room to heal.

In this it's just "Khonshu did it."

3. We're back to the mental health topic. While they DO acknowledge Steven and Jake twice, offhandedly, we don't see them. It's just MARC. And I find it hard to believe that either of them would either let Marc go this far off the rails to hurting his friends, but that they would go along with it without having a discussion or working as a team if they found it to be the only solution.

They also have NUMEROUS remarks from the others about "We all know Moon Knight is crazy but I didn't think he was this crazy". It carries on the old conversations that everyone in the Avengers and so on all see Moon Knight as mentaly unwell. Unfit. Crippled, even. He's not well enough to do things. He pretends to be a hero but we all know he's likely to melt down any minute and do something crazy, attitude.

And repeatedly he's told to take meds, go to the hospital, check himself in… Even T'Challa tells him "Wakanda has made great strides in Mental Health. We can cure you!"

Cure him from what? Trauma? Take away his DID? Or implying that he's some sort of other unwell causing him to not think straight?

It's these three things combined that just really set me off.

The absolutely disgusting use of Christian vocabulary and idealism to portray a Jewish character. Even if Marc isn't observant of Jewish beliefs, he is culturally Jewish and raised by a Rabbi. Unless he blatantly converted, he would not find himself worshiping and praying to another god. He wouldn't believe in the devil or use such language to describe Mephisto. He wouldn't talk about Angelic idealations or even Hell.

Then the blatant use of his mental illness to further how it's easy for Moon Knight to fall into such ways. Of course he did this. He's crazy. He'll do anything!

Of course he made his god Khonshu into an over powered dick.

I've discussed this before with a good friend, but there is a difference between following Khonshu and worshiping Khonshu.

I love the use of Yehya Badr to show this in MacKay's run. One has converted and religiously believes and follows Khonshu. The other follows a path that he himself set down as a result of his experiences and own needs.

Moon Knight never outright worships Khonshu (when properly written). Even in Moench's old run, he believed that he had been resurrected by Khonshu and therefore his power and life was in Khonshu's hands. This was more following Marc's thinking that he himself was nothing more than a ghost. Without Khonshu, it was more of an existential dread that he was nothing. Not that Khonshu was a god figure.

In later runs this translated into a sort of worship and it never should have. In Moench's run, Khonshu was some unknown force. Perhaps a god, perhaps a spirit, perhaps some form of something ancient that represents the moon and protecting those who travel by night. Considering the Marvel universe and such loose terms of applying all powerful beings under the phrase of 'god', it makes sense. Thor is technically a god. But he is not a god to be worshiped.

Moon Knight takes his own Jewish upbringing. He is here to cherish all life. To protect those who fall into the margins and cry for help.

What's most insulting is that this comic directly followed the run by Bemis. The one that was so laced with antisemitism and blatant disregard for mental health topics.... So we jump from blood libel and Nazism into fighting the actual Devil and praying to gods and worship.

This is not a good look, Marvel.

Here's the thing, we need a Jewish writer.

I don't mean someone that was formerly Jewish that converted to some other following. I don't mean an atheist that has a special interest in other religions (as Aaron claims he is). We need a born and raised practicing Jewish writer.

We need someone to use the proper terminology that isn't Christian based. We need Jake to speak more Yiddish. We need Steven to be seen putting money into the Tzedakah box. We need Marc to discuss his conflict with his Orthodox Rabbi father and his current path in life and how, like it or not, he has become the epitome of the Jewish struggle to exist.

I appreciate Mr. MacKay, but when his run is done and Marvel looks for the next Moon Knight writer, I'd really like to see a Jewish voice step in and not only respect their own people (despite what Marvel may tell them to do) but to also continue to represent and respect the mental health aspect of Moon Knight.

Maybe I'm asking too much? But this issue...

TLDR: Do not read Bendis, Bemis, and Aaron when it comes to Moon Knight.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Comics #I'm so angry you guys #Is it too much to ask that someone do a little research before taking on a comic title?#Tell your story Marvel but fucking tell it respectfully #What the hell was the editor doing?#growling and snarling #Moon Knight is Jewish

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zmickmilk · 2 months

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So gonna be ranting about this mf on twitter

Major Ian gallagher defence coming.

OKAH FIRST Ian 100% deserves mickey the same way mickey deserves Ian. When mickey is first introduced he is a homophobic closet case with no support system by the end of the show he is happily married to his fucking high-school sweetheart with his own apartment in a nice area and he has his own business. HE HAS ALL OF THAT BECAUSE OF IAN. Ian became mickeys support system and was always pushing him to become a better person. He shows mickey that he's not 'fucked for life' and he trys his hardest to protect him. Even if the way Ian did it , he got mickey to come out. Mickey needed that push. U think he would have come out if he didn't have someone he loves telling him to?

Now the cheating. The only time Ian cheats on mickey is during his manic episode in s4/5 AND HE GOT HELP AFTER. It's crazy to me that people don't think Ian regrets that and seriously use it as a reason to hate Ian. U better hate fiona and Debbie and Lip too. Yk what better hate mickey too cause he did have a wife and boyfriend (this is a joke don't kill me)

Ian not signing the marriage papers is upsetting but it's not hard to understand why he did it. Ian grew up around frank and Monica , his main representation of marriage is an absolute shit show. He's scared of turning his relationship with the man he loves into that. This is an expected fear from Ian given his worries about being like his mum. He doesn't want to complicate things. And he talks to mickey about this. Ian not signing isn't him being horrible it's his way of trying to protect mickey from himself because he loves mick.

And Ian is always trying to protect mickey, he backs him up in fights, when mickey breaks out of prison he doesn't go to the cops, he breaks up with mickey when he thinks their relationship is hurting him, he tells lip "hit my husband again and I'll fucking kill you". CLEARLY PROTECTIVE.

I don't have ss but mf was also like "Ian laughs at mickey being raped" so talking about that now.

The first time Ian "laughs at him" is in s3 when he tries to talk to mickey right after it happens. I don't think it takes a genius to know that Ian was trying to lighten the mood, not laugh AT mickey. He was also traumatised when Terry catching them happened. He laughs nervously because he has no clue how to navigate a situation like that at such a young age. He's a child making a badly timed, uncomfortable joke because he watched something terrible happen.

The second time Ian does this is with Caleb. During his relationship with caleb, Ian tries to convince himself that mickey was bad for him a few times. Making yourself hate someone is a lot easier than accepting the fact that they are gone. He shouldn't be telling someone he basically just met about that, but in his defence, he's talking about something he probably feels happened to him as well. Ian is affected by all that happened with mickey, and it makes sense that he tells people. In the same way, it would make sense for svetlana to tell people about the day it does for Ian too. All 3 are victims of Terry. Ian also has people telling him how bad mickey is all the time (mainly fiona tbh what if her problem with the milkovichs ) so he's trying to believe that, a easy way to do that is get validation from someone who hasn't been been around mickey. Caleb has never met mick, he has no reason to try defend him. I also don't really think what Ian was saying was making fun of mickey, it's not nice but yk?

This is getting long omg

On him being ugly

UGLY?!?!?

Cameron monaghan is GORGEOUS. He is the definition of cutie pie AND fine as fuck.

When mickey punches Ian because he didn't sign the marriage papers, HE DID NOT HAVE IT COMING. No one deserves to be hit by their partner. I mean, Jesus crist mickey literally broke his leg. His is probably the worst aspect of their relationship by that I mean the violence. A lot of it is playful, but it's not always healthy. Mickey was understandably upset but he shouldn't have hit Ian.

Okayyy now the hall of shame stuff. To me, that shit doesn't count cause Ian and mickey both act kinda out of character. I really don't like Ian saying that, and he shouldn't, but it's hardly a reason for Ian not to deserve mick. 87% is still the majority of his heart, and Ian wasn't saying he doesn't love mickey. Also acting like mickey hasn't said worst things.

"Ur nothing but a warm mouth to me"

"better than going off and having another bipolar episode"

LAST THING. Yes, mickey sacrifices a lot for Ian, like when he goes to prison for him, but not everyone shows love through large reckless actions. You shouldn't expect Ian to give things up to prove he loves mickey. Sacrifice isn't the only way to show affection. U can do it through words or gifts or quality time. Ian shows his love a lot through words, like when he tells mickey, "we have nothing to be ashamed of" early as s2. He makes him feel better when mickey is scared he would be a bad dad.

Ian gallagher haters are DUMB . Some people shouldn't be allowed to watch shameless cause how can u be so small-minded. People who say 1 of them doesn't deserve the other are just aggravating. Gallavich has a lot of ups and downs, and its part of what makes them so appealing. Despite all the bad things they go through, they always love and fight for each other.

Rant over

#shameless us #ian gallagher #defending him with my life #how can u hate him #ian shameless

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withacapitalp · 3 months

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Dear You, Pt 1

For the miraculous amazing wonderful @artbean LEX I am SO happy I got to be your Valentine this year I am so excited for you to get to enjoy every bit of this story, and I can't wait to scream about it with you now that I FINALLY can. Also a very huge thank you to @hbyrde36 for being the worlds BEST beta and encouraging me every single day on this. I can't wait to watch this one grow

Link to AO3

----- It all started with a dimebag.

Well, actually, it started long before that, not that Eddie had any clue back then.

For him though, it started with a dimebag.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie said, huffing out an incredulous laugh as he stared down Steve Harrington, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Despite what his new sheep seemed to think about the former King of Hawkins High, Eddie knew guys like Harrington. They didn’t change, or somehow suddenly evolve into not shitty humans. They were high school has-beens, losers, dicks who never had to grow up because daddy would always be there to protect them.

Steve coming to see him alone after Hellfire? The only way that was going to end was with a plastic baggie and cash exchanging hands, or some kind of fucked up prank that he would laugh about with his other jock douchebags for all of a week.

But King Steve hadn’t done either of those things. In an increasingly confusing turn of events, Harrington had apparently come to him to ask Eddie to sell weed to Jonathan Byers.

Jonathan Byers… the guy who stole his girlfriend right out from under him.

“Look man, he’s too nervous to come to you directly, and I wouldn’t give a fuck about buying for him, but I know you still charge me the asshole tax-” Steve said, running his fingers through his oh-so-perfect hair and sighing as he turned back to Eddie with an even more determined look in his eye.

“You earned the asshole tax, Harrington,” Eddie cut in, a bit harsher than he meant to. Steve almost flinched back and Eddie bit his tongue before he could start ranting. He didn’t really care about Steve’s feelings, but he wasn’t looking to become one of the bullies that he constantly railed against.

Besides, he wanted answers, and he wouldn’t get those from antagonizing Steve past the point of conversation.

“Regardless,” Steve continued on, “I told him that I can’t keep floating the extra cash and he has to start buying from you directly.”

Steve had repeated that same point about five times in this conversation, but Eddie still didn’t get it. No matter how he tried to rearrange it, he just couldn’t make it make sense.

“So you, Steve “The Hair” Harrington, have been buying weed for Jonathan Byers, and you’re just paying the extra money that I charge you for your high school jock tendencies out of the goodness of your ever-so-loving heart?” Eddie asked rhetorically, raising a brow.

Steve nodded anyway and Eddie crossed his arms, his brow furrowing at the completely innocent expression on Steve’s face.

“Why?”

That was the question wasn’t it? What did Steve get out of all of this? Having something to hold over Jonathan couldn’t be worth that much, the asshole tax was a pretty big hike after all. Besides, Will was one of the kids he drove around town all the time.

Were they…friends? Was that even possible?

“Will you do it?” Steve asked, bluntly avoiding the question with a look that told Eddie he wasn’t getting any answers.

“He knows where the picnic table is and what my hours are,” Eddie answered, starting to get bored of the cryptic conversation, “You didn’t have to come here for all this.”

“Look, Jonathan’s been through a lot-”

“You’re telling me that?” Eddie said, a sharp laugh exploding from his chest at the hypocrisy of that statement. Unless he was forgetting, it was Harrington that had beat Jonathan’s face in two years ago, not him.

This time Steve actually did flinch back, his entire body on guard and defensive, coiled like a snake and ready to strike. Eddie was ready for a blow, a punch to the gut or a new black eye to sport for the next few weeks.

But it never came.

Harrington just…stood there, walls high as can be, obviously uneasy but unwilling to leave until he got what he had come here for. The vicious little joy he had gotten at finally landing a hit on the impervious King Steve was quickly waning the longer they just stood there, looking at each other, regret pressing down on the deep buried wounds Eddie hid in his chest.

He knew better than most how much it hurt to constantly have your own failures thrown back in your face.

“Are you done being a douchebag?” Steve asked quietly when the silence had gotten appropriately uncomfortable. Eddie jerked his head upwards in a nod and Steve sighed again, looking away and letting his eyes wander around the drama room rather than look at Eddie.

“All I’m askin’ is that you don’t overcharge him, and don’t do your whole scary demon leader thing. ‘Kay?”

“And I should listen to you, why?” Eddie asked, leaning back and sliding up to sit on the table, faux nonchalance dripping from every pore. He wasn’t looking to be too mean, not anymore, but it was still fun to watch Harrington squirm a little bit.

“Because if you don’t I’ll sic our mutual children on you, and, trust me, you don’t want to be on Will Byers’s shit list.” Steve said with a wry little grin, obviously thinking about all the ways the kids would make Eddie’s life hell if he said no. “By the way, they don’t know Jon smokes, so don’t tell them.”

“All sales are sacrosanct, as you know,” Eddie immediately responded, his personal code jumping out.

Eddie was a lot of things, but he was no snitch. Munsons never turned, never gave up anything that they had been given to hide, not even on the threat of death. His father was shitty for many, many, reasons, but Al had taught him at least one good thing.

“Why does Byers need so much weed anyway?” Eddie asked, trying to turn the conversation casual again, “I thought you were smoking like every night for those migraines the brats are always going on about.”

It was a completely normal thing to say, nothing sharp or biting in the slightest, but the second the words were out of his mouth, all of the blood drained from Steve’s face, and his hand immediately shot up to rub at the side of his neck. He even took a step back, needing extra space between them for some damn reason.

“Nah, I don’t um-” Steve took a deep shaking breath, looking like he had seen a monster. “Drugs aren’t really my thing anymore.”

Drugs weren’t his thing?

Even before the concussions, Harrington was one of Eddie’s top customers. And after getting his head bashed in, Steve was at the picnic table making weekly transactions, always for the same exact amount of product. They almost had it down to a science- 40 bucks, two baggies, have a nice day.

But something about the way Steve was holding himself- the hunched up shoulders and the way his eyes looked about a thousand miles away- it just felt bad.

There was pain there, deep, unnerving pain, and it made Eddie believe every word he was saying.

“After-” Steve cut himself off again, forcing another deep breath in, this one more steady. Eddie could almost physically see Steve put himself back together, the mask of aloof uncaring King Steve coming over his face in a way that was comforting in its familiarity, but disturbing in its motion.

“Drugs aren’t my thing anymore,” Steve repeated, voice sturdy and walls ten miles high.

“Okay, no worries,” Eddie said, unable to keep all of the gentleness out of his voice. He didn’t exactly want to treat Harrington like one of his lost sheep, but he couldn’t help the urge to protect that came over him any time he saw someone in need. “Uh- tell Byers to meet me on Tuesdays. I’ll- um- charge him the friends and family discount.”

Eddie never had a problem overcharging rich jerks from Loch Nora, but he could swing a bit of an income dip for another kid with one parent and way too many bills on the table.

“Tuesday and Friday,” Steve countered, like they were in a fricken tennis match.

“Tuesday and Friday it is,” Eddie agreed easily, hopping down from his spot and walking towards the door patting Steve twice on the shoulder as he passed him, enjoying the way it made the other boy jump.

Some things would just never change, and freaking out a jock was still one of life’s beautiful little pleasures.

The two of them walked out of the school in an amicable silence. They weren’t friends, Eddie could never imagine thinking of Steve like that, but they weren’t exactly enemies. Steve was no longer who he had been, if the kids were to be believed, but that didn’t matter much to Eddie. He had still been that person, and that was enough reason to dislike him.

Was there a word for that? A word for a person whom you no longer hated, but still didn’t really care to know? There had to be people in the world who had dealt with this particular issue.

Eddie was so deep in his thoughts that he barely noticed walking out the door and down the steps. He only realized they were at their destination when Steve broke away, turning and going in the opposite direction.

“Thanks,” Harrington called out with a toss of his hand over his shoulder, walking towards his lonely Beemer in the other corner of the parking lot.

“Oh yeah, sure,” Eddie muttered, still distracted by the question.

Eddie cared about the brats, he knew that. He was handing down the legacy of Hellfire to those hellions, and he knew they would do well. And the kids cared about Steve, for some inexplicable reason. Henderson was desperate to make them best friends for god's sake.

Well, best friends they would never be, but maybe an olive branch would push them towards something better. If Harrington was going to be in his life more, Eddie at least wanted it to be bearable.

“Hey Steve?” Eddie shouted from across the parking lot, catching Steve’s attention and making him turn around.

“If you- um- ever decide drugs are ‘your thing’ again, I’ll cut your asshole tax in half,” Eddie offered, feeling inexplicably embarrassed and trying to hide his blush behind his hair, “For Henderson, you know?”

“Just be nice to Jonathan, that’s all I’m askin’ for!” Steve shouted back.

Jonathan.

Eddie shook his head, jogging over to his van and fumbling for the keys, nearly dropping them as he went to unlock the door.

“Jonathan fucking Byers what are you bringing into my life?” Eddie mumbled to himself, already sure that this was going to lead to absolutely nothing good.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #NOT STEDDIE #sorry kings!#jeddie #Jonathan and Eddie?#idk how to tag this RIP #stranger things #st #st drabble #st4 #it's gonna be fun #sweetandspicyexchange

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queer-overwatch · 23 days

Note

another Sombra rq!!!! I love her sm ok,, ty for the last request btw bc LLORD I LOVED IT 🛐 okay this time I'm thinkin sombra x fem reader who REALLY adores the way olivia looks and stares at her all the time but then reader is super insecure abt herself,,, as always any format!! have a blessed day!!

Sombra x Insecure!Reader

Yippie! FYI Sombras my dps main so everytime we get a request for her I'm like "MINE" and yoink it before Xorn even has a chance to see it lmao, hope your happy with me doing everything for Sombra >:3 -Frisk

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"I don't know what he was doing, something stupid obviously" Sombra, you're wonderful, pretty, smart, amazing girlfriend, was talking shit as per usual, though this time it was about Reaper.

You were trying to pay attention, really! But it was hard, especially when Sombra was in the best lighting ever, and her hair was just slightly messed in a way that makes it more gorgeous than you could put into words.

It was hard to focus on anything but her, especially with how pretty she always was. Despite how bad you knew it was, you couldn't help but compare yourself to them sometimes. It wasn't normally on purpose, it was just hard to not feel out of place dating someone so perfect. She was so smart and the absolute best at her job, even when working with people so "incompetent" as she'd say. "Hey, querida, are you listening to me?" You're snapped out of your thoughts by Sombra flicking you on the forehead, staring at you seemingly annoyed. Good lordy even her annoyed face is pretty, you've really got an obsession. "Hm? Yeah! Yeah I'm listening, sorry." You reach out and grab the hand she used to flick you, rubbing her knuckles with your thumb as you nod for her to continue talking. "Right, well anyway, I don't know why these old people keep coming to me with their tech problems, I'm not tech support! The only person who I told I'd help is Siebren!" You nod along, half listening to her rant and half in your own head. How did she manage to look so beautiful even while pissed? You had no clue what her secret was, not to mention her amazing fashion sense. One time you tried to dress like her, took one look in the mirror, and immediately put on the baggiest clothes you had.

You loved her, obviously, and were always more than happy to take her out on dates, using any excuse you could to admire her, but you refused to dress up the way she did. Dresses just didn't look right, no matter how you styled your hair it didn't look the way you wanted it too. God forbid you try and go to the beach, you'd be sitting in the shade in a hoodie and sweatpants before you let her see how...disappointing you were. "Anyway, how was your day, estimada?" She drags you around, checking on some expensive looking technology you couldn't even think of touching, let alone understanding how it worked. "Boring, I didn't do much, never do really." You laugh off her question, trying to make a bit of a sad joke to distract her. She stares at you for a bit, silently judging what you think is everything about you. Maybe she finally realized that she was far too pretty to be with someone like you. You didn't think you were like, hideously ugly, but maybe she did?! What if she was planning to break up with you, who would want to date you if you were rejected by the Sombra!? "Fair enough, a day off does sound nice, actually. I'd love to laze around all day in pajamas, lucky you!" She pinches your cheek, teasing you as she finally looks back to one of her many screens. "Really?" It was hard to imagine, the usually dolled up Sombra, lazing about and dressed so casually. You were sure she's still look just as amazing as usual despite it, she was somehow so effortlessly perfect. You were, uh, there. "Maybe you should take a day off then! I'm sure they can handle one mission without you, even if your team is as useless as you say they are!" You grab her shoulders, spinning her to be facing you with what you can imagine is the biggest smile she's ever seen on your face. Any opportunity to be able to simply bask in her glory was an opportunity you were going to make use of! You could imagine it now, her sitting there, watching tv in an oversized T-shirt and shorts. There was no way your imagination could do it justice, you had to see her like that in real life or you'd simply keel over and die. "Maybe, I should be free tonight actually" She shrugs noncommittedly, but you could see the slightest hint of red in her cheeks! That meant it was a yes!

"Perfect! I'll go find some movies for us to watch! You better hurry finishing up whatever it is you're working on! I love you, be ready at 8!" You dash off, leaving her with a peck on the cheek and a timer to set.

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Scrambling around your room, you desperately try and make yourself look presentable but also try to make it look like you didn't try and this is just how you are 24/7. Sombra was always so flawless, you couldn't ruin their night by being ugly! You check your phone and nearly throw it across the room. It was already 7:58! What if she was waiting for you and she thinks you stood her up and gets mad?! You'd never forgive yourself if you made her wait on you! Glancing in the mirror, you stop worrying about the time, or what movie you'll watch, or how your little date will go. Everything was suddenly replaced by pure shame. All that time you spent trying to look on par with your girlfriend, and this is how it came out? All that effort and energy and materials for..this? Was it even worth it to try in the first place? You loved Sombra so, so, so much, but no matter what you did it felt like you were playing the role of the ugly girl obsessed with a movies main character that's just there for comedic effect.

You're knocked out of your own thoughts again by a tap on the shoulder, getting a feeling of deja vu. You turn and see Sombra, as perfect and gorgeous as ever.

"You ready yet, slowpoke?" She takes your hand, dragging you out of room before you can bother to respond. Leading you to her own private corner of Talon's base, a forgotten storage room that she'd stolen and made her own, a password for the handmade high-tech door and everything.

She shoves you down onto a beanbag and takes her spot next to you, dragging one of your arms around her shoulders and handing you a remote for the tv she'd snuck into the room years earlier.

"You gonna pick something or not?" Again with her teasing, this time though it didn't feel like her words would sink into your brain and repeat in a much meaner tone when you looked in the mirror. This time it felt soft, less stressful.

You nod, smiling and throwing on an old action movie you were reminded of last week. You both got comfortable, and you felt her rest her hand on your stomach, head against your shoulder.

It felt nice to be touched, especially by someone like her. It was hard to imagine, someone like her loving someone like you, but if she could love you, maybe you could learn to love yourself too.

#sombra overwatch #overwatch x reader #sombra x reader #olivia colomar #fem reader #angst kinda #I but a happy ending bc im a sucker for happy endings <3 #Xornk

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hannxgram-headcannons · 1 year

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Moments with my Hannibal Kinnie Bf that altered my brain chemistry when I made him watch Hannibal for the first time

- Seeing him say “if I were Hannibal…” and knowing what he said he’d do is EXACTLY what Hannibal did next

- Catching him late one night googling “Plastic Suit” into Google images and taking notes

- hearing him say the words “I am so deeply disappointed in Will for this” when he saw Freddie alive

- Him making me pause the show so many goddamn times in season three to rant about Italy to me…particularly statues he wish he’d gotten to see more of when he visited

- seeing him frantically whip out a sketchbook of his from like four years ago and showing me a sketch of the EXACT section of the primavera?? Is that the painting Hannibal was drawing in the show of the lady and the man?? Idk but I shit you not I about lost my mind

- him leaving mid opening scene of season three only to come back in with Hannibal’s exact leather jacket from the motorcycle scene

- listening to him explain Hannibal’s thought process at any point of the show my favorite time being when he explained dating Alana “He (Hannibal) wanted Will to Picture him in a sexual nature I believe….” Blah blah blah but it makes sense

- seeing him totally on the edge of his seat just LOVING all the bloody gore and shit but watching him have to physically hide his face in his hands when the dragon ate that painting telling me “Of all the things I’ve seen in this show that is by far the worst scene” literally ranting for ages about poisoning paints and paper…fuckin priceless art value and whatnot as if we didn’t just see all the fucked up shit we saw

- listening to him NONSTOP the ENTIRE FUCKIN SHOW talk about how bad he wanted Will to either kill one of the killers or fight Hannibal

- *obvious boners from Will being mean to Hannibal*

- going to look up something on his computer and seeing his last search being quote “Hugh Dancy Other movies”

- Laughiig with him when Hannibal got shot because he said “if he heals from that wound he would be able to digest red meat for some time”

- having to explain to him what fanfiction is when we watched an interview with Mads

- hearing him practically moan when Will looked up at Hannibal when they killed the dragon like the man had a small orgasm I swear I fuckin SWEAR

- Hearinf him nonstop talk about Will Graham ALL THE FUCKING TIME LIKE NONSTOP I AM SO TIRED OF HEARJNF ABOUT HIM

- Showinf me his one Spotify playlist after the finally when he told me and I quote “Is the song playing currently a Sioux and the Banshees song?” Like I had a fuckin clue but apparently he used to listen to it all the time and told me “All those years of it’s chorus hitting my eardrums and now I feel it’s tune has an entirely new meaning”

- Him coming to me later one night and telling me he wished there was more and that he was tryin to setup an A03 account

#hannibal headcanons #hannibal lecter #hannibal memes #nbc hannibal #hannibal kin #will graham kin #hannigram #will graham

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mushiimune · 5 months

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I absolutely ADORE your comic with sun and monty it's such a good concept. I too am the hugest monty defender. free my boy he did nothing wrong ‼️

THANK YOUUU!!! I HAVE NO ONE TO RANT ABOUT THIS TO I'm ping-ponging off the walls rn

I understand why some people think he did it but there's just so many holes in that theory it doesn't make sense to me– we gain so many clues ahout his character from the fazwatch messages I just couldn't help but think that he isn't all that into the fame he gets from this role it seems he doesn't even want.

I think he skips shows to search for Bonnie's body the last place he saw him (the catwalks). They try to stop him from hurting himself (for example when he fell and got snapped in half) by locking him in his room to ensure he makes showtime, hence all the claw marks around his doorframe.

AGH I just. You know??? I'm a sucker for the dark, misunderstood, brooding rockstar. Monty is absolutely my favorite. If any of my hypotheses are remotely true, Monty is the most selfless of all of them, and I love that.

#again. that's jUST A THEORY!#answered asks #fnaf #security breach #monty gator

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blanketforcas · 2 months

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Sorry if you've already mentally moved on from this but that "no-win" article about destiel is soooo enraging. How is the writer of it going to admit that there was queerbait, and then in the very same breath say having Dean reciprocate would come out of nowhere? BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, a queer character doesn't need to drop clues that they're queer (though, Supernatural arguably did with Dean and Cas both.) There's no 10-step guideline to carefully announcing a character's queerness so the general audience can pick up on it. For actual fucks sake. If the show had spent all 15 seasons with Dean adamantly claiming he was straight, if he was sleeping solely with women up until the very day he died, if he had a "vaginas 4 life" tattoo on his lower back, guess what! He can still be queer. They don't need to build up to something like that, something that's inherently PART of a person, like it requires external proof. It doesn't.

yeah somehow no one sets the same standards for straight characters huh

(also like. i really think screen rant just wants the clicks and doesn't care about writing anything that makes sense - just whatever riles people up, one way or another. it's just frustrating that it's at the cost of, well, shining a light on a beautiful story arc and queer subtext)

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depravitycentral · 9 months

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Wait but can i please ask for a darling that can speak a language that her captor( especially Nobunaga or Uvogin) can't ? 🥹

Like she speaks Vietnamese so everytime that dude try to hugs her or random shit and she said "Cút ra coi" ( please fuck off) and he can't understand! Maybe he will be mad since her tone is carrying alot of attitudes.

Since Vietnamese have ALOT of cursed words so i think i can bullied them and get away with it sometime...

You don't have to do this if you don't want to but if you did, thank you alot. I recently go crazy with your blog, you are so talented 😭🙌. Love and support from Vietnam!

As a preface, my native language is English, I speak a passable amount of Spanish, and I'm minoring in German at my university but I'm not nearly proficient, so I'm not exactly the expert in being fluently multilingual, but I'll try my best with this one!

As with most things, different yanderes have different feelings regarding this ability of yours. By and large, they find it wonderful - you're just so smart, so capable and wonderful and hearing the way the syllables and phrases fall from your lips gets them shivering, their heart racing in their chest because god, you sound heavenly. Even if the language is harsher sounding, or isn't considered the most alluring - it's seductive to them, sensual, sexy.

But, of course, you're only supposed to use the other language(s) at certain times. On their terms. When they want to just admire you and not understand what you're saying. When you're just supposed to look pretty, to be gorgeous and wonderful and perfect.

But the rest of the time, speak what they understand, yeah?

Because really, the worst nightmare of most yanderes is to be unable to understand what you're saying - they crave your attention and interaction with you so deeply and desperately that they can't stand not having a clue of what you're saying. Every thought you have feels precious to them, like some sort of cherished, rare commodity that they absolutely can't waste.

But of course, each yandere is different, so let's discuss!

Some are genuinely ambivalent. The lucid yanderes really fall into two main categories; apathetic, and paranoid. The more apathetic, laid-back yanderes think it's good that you're speaking in a language that makes you more comfortable. They want you to feel comfortable and happy around them, after all, and if this is the way to make that happen, so be it. This is a very small price to pay to make you like them more - they can't understand what you're saying, sure, but it's good for you to be able to vent, to be able to speak all your feelings - even if they wish they could hear every single word. Besides, you look nice when you're speaking - they like to watch your lips, the different sounds making them pucker and smack and look soft and warm and delicious. A few yanderes who react in this way include Franklin Bordeau, Pakunoda, Uvogin, Hajime Iwaizumi, Gyomei Himejima, and Shouta Aizawa.

Some of them are paranoid that you're saying things about them, calling them horrible names and expressing your hatred for them. Mostly, this stems from the yandere's own lucidity and shame for how they feel for you. It's wrong to be so obsessed with you, and even further wrong to have kidnapped you and forced you to stay with them for the rest of your life - of course you're angry, and it's healthy to vent your feelings. Except, there's this sense of diminished control when you're ranting and raving in another language, because even though you sound pretty, what are you saying? You aren't using their name, sure, but you sound mad, and they're the only possible cause. Are you calling them a monster? Telling them they're hideous and disgusting and some sick freak? You're well within your rights to do so, sure, but they want to at least know what kind of insults you're throwing their way. Overthinking and anxiety get the best of them, and they start forbidding you from speaking another language - on the grounds of it being unfair or some other horrible, childish excuse. Mostly, they just don't like the idea of you harboring hateful feelings for them without even knowing about it. It's scary, and even if it sounds pretty and makes them gush over you, it's not preferable. A few yanderes that come to mind for this category are Feitan Portor, Obanai Iguro, Tobio Kageyama, Kenji Futakuchi, and Tomura Shigaraki.

Some are utterly fascinated. Watching you speak another language can captivate them for hours, and they'll be bugging you to explain everything you're saying, perched at the edge of their seat because they want to understand this piece of you. They'll want you to teach them a little bit - just a few phrases, to start, but you'll find that they've gone and done some research of their own, quickly getting a feel for the language because it's your language and they want to impress you - and will begin actively trying to use it in their everyday interactions with you. The phrases they prioritize are I love you, you are beautiful, you are mine, and come to bed with me. (And of course, depending on the language, that last one can have a whole wealth of different connotations.) It makes them feel connected to you, like there's some special thing binding you two together - particularly if it's a language that's less commonly spoken. It's like some secret you two share, and for the more possessive yanderes, it's just another claim of ownership over you - they can be involved in every part of your life, slowly seeping their presence into every little thing you do - even something as natural and personal and raw. A few yanderes who take this approach are Chrollo Lucilfer, Kurapika Kurta, Koushi Sugawara, Kyojuro Rengoku, Tengen Uzui, Hizashi Yamada, and Taishiro Toyomitsu.

By and large, most yanderes have positive feelings towards your ability to speak another language - it just makes you more special, and convinces them that you're even more worthy of their attention and attraction.

Besides, when you say their name with the accent it would be spoken in your language?

Well, it's your fault when they're throwing you onto the bed and kissing you like they'll die without you.

(Also I am sending you hugs and kisses, thanks for supporting my blog from Vietnam!! As for Nobunaga, I have mixed feelings about where to place him on this listing - I think he'd like the idea, initially, because you just look so damn cute when you're speaking your language, especially when you're cursing or frustrated. But the moment that you say something he thinks might be about him and might be even a bit negative, suddenly those endearing feelings are changing. Suddenly he's growing defensive, hostile, suspicious, demanding you tell him what you said and thus falling into the second category mentioned above. I think he's a hard yandere to categorize for most things because his delusional mindset makes him a bit unpredictable, but that would be my guess!)

#_lee discusses #_hxh #_bnha #_kny #_haikyuu #yandere haikyuu #yandere bnha #yandere kny #yandere hxh

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greenhappyseed · 1 year

Text

Very spicy salty and lengthy rant incoming. This is part 1 of 2, focusing on All Might (with Izuku and Katsuki), while part 2 will focus more on Ochako and the 1A reunion. I’m trying to help myself feel better about how deeply I dislike the “Dark Deku” and Star & Stripe arcs because I need to excise the real-life anxiety I’m feeling over this coming up in the anime. IMO, these arcs did not age well at all, and are absolutely no better in light of the ~35 subsequent chapters. It’s just that the subsequent chapters feel more cohesive and well thought-out despite Horikoshi’s physical pain and burnout.

While I’m not emotional over fictional characters, it is true that these arcs have impacted the fandom; namely, many people who were fans of All Might, Aizawa, Midnight, Mic, and the overall UA vibe dropped out. I get that sense from some LOV fans too. Overall, it means far fewer fics and art pieces with my blorbos, and it’s also meant far less interaction with my blog. (I don’t give a damn about “engagement” or followers, but I like talking about my hyperfixation with others who share it!). Obviously the story has to change as the series end draws near, but spending SO much time with Endeavor, Hawks, and Jeanist has worn me out, even if I think Horikoshi is handling Endeavor’s character growth well. (FWIW, I’m utterly disinterested in “Hawks the Optimist” who inexplicably became the expert on how OFA works, and Jeanist is…well…you know…a male model.)

Aside from everyone’s basic rant about how Horikoshi introduced two hot middle-aged women only to more or less fridge them (after killing Midnight!), my real complaint in this post is that the Dark Deku & Star arcs made a complete mess of All Might’s character arc and in-universe relationships. Don’t get me wrong — Chapter 326 with Stain seemed like something Horikoshi had planned since the early days of the manga, and that one hit HARD. But the rest felt like an improvisation. It’s horribly inconsistent on (1) when All Might speaks up and when he can’t bring himself to talk, and (2) how his relationship with 1A is handled compared to Star.

When it comes to All Might’s failure to speak up, it feels like Horikoshi was nerfing All Might and reducing what we know the former No.1 is capable of doing. I mean, in Chapter TWO he stops Izuku from overdoing his training. After Kamino, All Might helps Izuku develop Shoot Style by telling Izuku point blank that he’s trying too hard to imitate his mentor. In the Overhaul/Nighteye arc, All Might refuses to support Izuku’s desire to take on a work study because he thinks it unnecessarily exposes Izuku to villain activity AND Izuku needs to strengthen his Shoot Style first. (The awkwardness with Nighteye is his third reason.) When Izuku persuades him about getting stronger under Nighteye’s guidance, All Might carefully asks himself if Izuku is being impatient just because Izuku is his successor before agreeing to let Mirio do the introduction. When Izuku confronts All Might over Nighteye’s prophecy, All Might makes SURE Izuku is ready to hear an uncomfortable truth and then proceeds to tell him everything. In the next arc, All Might encourages Izuku to use whatever support items he needs, even though All Might always chose to fight with just his body. All Might is protective of Katsuki and Shoto too — when they want to jump out of the taxi and fight the Cider House gang, he tries to get them to slow down and “assess the situation first.” In all these situations, All Might can’t physically stop his students (and is usually on the losing end of the argument, as happens with argumentative teenagers™️), but he uses his voice to speak up and make his opinion known.

At the beginning of Dark Deku, things are looking okay. All Might gives up on the secrecy that defined him early on and tells Hawks and Jeanist everything when he realizes secrets didn’t keep people safe. That’s good, I think, but he didn’t seem to consult Izuku about it. Based on context clues, and how All Might initially wanted Izuku to stay at UA (again, he spoke up!) I think his motivation was to recruit the pro heroes to protect Izuku at the hospital and at UA. It sort of makes sense he would move fast and wouldn’t ask Izuku’s permission to do that…but in front of Inko after Izuku wakes up, All Might DOES ask Izuku’s permission to tell her. A minor inconsistency, but all right. It’s made clear All Might is worried sick about Izuku, warning him not to go overboard (once more speaking up!). Hawks even picks up on All Might’s hesitation, telling him that Izuku has the right strategy and it’s on All Might to keep the kid propped up. All Might does not look pleased about this as he looks up in the sky towards Izuku.

In helping Izuku, All Might fends off assassins and talks about how Izuku’s idolization of him weighs on him. It’s not just that he promised Inko he would live and look out for Izuku; he’s acutely aware his boy is just like him in ways good and bad.

Yet when All Might sees Izuku struggle and he begins to see why Nighteye wanted him to retire, he can’t bring himself to talk to Izuku. Even though he understands Izuku’s feelings, he just can’t say a word. You would think seeing Izuku get shot, or barely escaping AFO’s mansion explosion, would prompt a conversation. But no, he says nothing. (Then again, nobody seems to remember Izuku was shot; no mention in the bath scene either.)

At the same time, we see Nighteye pop up in All Might’s thoughts, but we don’t see All Might struggling with telling Izuku what Nighteye told him (that is, we have no idea if All Might still feels violated in some way by Nighteye’s actions). We also don’t see All Might worrying about Izuku realizing the Symbol of Peace was just a human being. All Might isn’t trying to keep up Izuku’s hope by hiding the real burden of being the symbol (besides, didn’t he pull back that curtain in, oh, CHAPTER ONE???) We aren’t given any solid motivation or thematic through line — he simply procrastinated on what he knew he had to do for an unsatisfying hodgepodge of invasive thoughts. That is inconsistent with the All Might we know.

Before anyone comes at me, All Might not telling Izuku about Nighteye’s prophecy is very different. In that situation, All Might honestly did not think Izuku needed to know because knowing would put MORE pressure on Izuku than necessary. In Dark Deku, it’s the opposite, and All Might knows talking to Izuku could help relieve pressure.

I understand this is supposed to be All Might’s low point to lead into the Stain conversation. All Might is supposed to feel like “doing his best” didn’t prevent society’s downfall and didn’t stop his boy from repeating his mistakes. But…it feels like Horikoshi tied his tongue because that’s what needed to happen for plot reasons, and Horikoshi just wanted it to happen quickly. We still don’t have a good character reason why. Would it have been so unbelievable that Izuku, in his panicked state, brushes off All Might’s advice to rest? Or would that “break” Izuku’s idolization of All Might in a way that Horikoshi is still saving for the finale, where Izuku finally becomes his own hero without imitating All Might at all? I don’t have an answer, but it feels like we still could have had the same basic story beats without the bizarre characterization.

The strangeness of All Might staying quiet also makes Katsuki’s argument to Endeavor in Chapter 319 feel funny to me. Katsuki is spot on that Izuku doesn’t take himself into account and All Might does the same thing. While Katsuki understands far better than Izuku that All Might is human, Katsuki doesn’t consider how protective All Might can be of Izuku. Katsuki doesn’t see (or understand, perhaps?) how All Might doesn’t want anyone else to be a Symbol of Peace the same way he was. Maybe that’s part of Katsuki’s idolization issues? Post-362, with Katsuki seeing All Might’s vestige and showing him the trading card, I think Katsuki never let himself appreciate that he had the former #1 in his corner, or that a person can, in fact, use their willpower to become a symbol that inspires a nation. Not to sound like Prince Harry in “Spare,” but maybe there’s also a tinge of lingering resentment over feeling left behind? There’s just something about Katsuki screaming to Endeavor, of all people, that you can’t leave Izuku and All Might alone together when Endeavor knows Izuku has already ditched All Might AND Endeavor and Hawks have already realized they’re “too slow” compared to Izuku. Of course it’s Hawks — who was saying Izuku made the right choice like Second and, uh, AFO — to announce that Izuku left All Might. There’s also Shoto yelling about how Endeavor “let them operate together,” but it’s not like Endeavor has enough credibility to control either Izuku or All Might.

How does a #2 protect their #1 when they’re too slow? Can you ever “run alongside” someone whose power vastly outpaces yours, or is idolization all you can do? I think these are fascinating thematic questions, and Dark Deku makes a mess of them.

These problems compound in the reunion chapter, 327, which is really cute when it comes to the bath scene and the 1A kids, but is inexplicably confounding when it comes to All Might + the kids. Izuku clearly calls All Might multiple times to reconnect, but the man doesn’t pick up his phone. (I think we’re supposed to assume All Might is talking to Stain when Izuku calls, but…he couldn’t use the Hercules speech-to-text feature to tell the kid he’s driving over?) Then All Might just happens to show up at UA as Izuku talks about him, and gives Izuku a deep bow while saying sorry “for being of so little help.” He says nothing aloud about how he feels towards Izuku, and nothing aloud about being proud of 1A (though he basically thinks that in this chapter and again in 335). When Mina asks for an apology because he just disappeared post-war and left 1A with the Wild Wild Pussycats, he briefly says he’s sorry for any anxiety he caused, but quickly pivots to the need to prepare for “the battle that will decide it all.”

Like the Stain conversation, I understand that this is supposed to be All Might stepping up and figuring out his place in the world post-retirement. He’s realized he passed the torch to Izuku and 1A, but that doesn’t mean he’s useless. He wants to join the fight with the kids; to catch up and run alongside them. And to do that, he….ditches them to join Tsukauchi and Endeavor. I do appreciate that All Might is open with Tsukauchi (and Sansa!!!) about his OFA experience. But he basically disappears from UA for two days to deal with Star and TomurAFO before coming back in 335 and then seemingly disappearing again before joining the UA faculty to discuss the Aoyamas. (As pictured above, Ochako and Tenya, then Katsuki, all rightfully call out All Might’s “I am not here” act in 335.) Are you really telling me that the man who cries over Aoyama’s reveal isn’t emotionally attached to the class and wouldn’t, you know, BE HERE for them?

What makes All Might’s absence from 1A even more problematic is that now he’s…Star’s mentor??? See, All Might sends out the call for help from his international super friends and Star comes riding in acting like she’s his successor. Chapter 364 later reinforces this, with Agpar’s monologue about “children observing adults and adults supporting the children as they pass it forward” showing a Prime All Might reach out out his hand to Star. It’s stupid because All Might has a direct successor already, plus two students (Katsuki and Shoto) that are direct heirs to other parts of his legacy, and another group of students that he’s been hands-on teaching for the past year. But Horikoshi decides to ignore all that setup and focus on “All Might + Star” rather than have him spend more time with 1A. Once again, if the point is to introduce thematic questions of inspiration and imitation, and how there’s a difference between someone imitating their idol based on their own interpretation vs actually receiving mentorship from the human behind the idol, it’s utterly lost in the execution. I just can’t bring myself to see Star as anything other than an interloper. I’m glad her pilot bros stayed in Japan to help out, and her sacrifice was heroic I suppose, but it suffered the same flaw as All Might. She tried to take on TomurAFO alone, and the best she could do is slow him down temporarily.

That’s all I can manage for now! In part 2, I’ll take a closer look at Ochako and the chain that leads to Izuku’s retrieval and where we are now.

#I just want a little Dadmight ok?#Maybe one last tea time with Izuku and Katsuki?#bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha salt #bnha critical #all might #toshinori yagi #izuku midoriya #Deku #dark Deku #bnha meta #Mha meta

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