#he doesn’t love you despite your quirks and flaws and everything you don’t like about yourself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softxsuki · 2 years

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I’m not sure if you are taking any request right now,but I was wondering if you could do a urgent comforter headcannon for three characters from Tokyo revengers: Manjiro sano Aka Toman Mikey, Takashi mitsuya,Keisuke Baij ?

(Feel free to deny my request if I made you feel uncomfortable or I’m stepping over my boundaries.) Anyway My depression been kicking my butt and feeling really awful about my insecure for having a Learning disability and being hearing impaired. I would like some comfort knowing despite my flaws I too can be love for who I’m and no would judge me or get really frustrated with me.

So my question is how would : Manjiro sano Aka Toman Mikey,Takashi mitsuya ,Keisuke Baij feel about their female s/o having a learning disability and being hearing impaired? Their S/O wear hearing aides in both ear and she does have a bit of speech difficulty however for the most part she can talk normally and is able to talk on the phone tho she does say what lot.

Their S/O may not be vary intelligence and is almost alway clumsy, however she makes that up for having such a lovely vibrant personality who is sweet and thoughtful,caring person that enjoy the enjoy the simple things in life?

• Like would they be patient with her and love all of her flaws?

• What they think of her lack intelligence or her personality?

What do they think of Her enjoy the simple things in life?

• What would they think of her having speech difficulty?

• Would they be vary protective of their O/S?

• would they adore her clumsiness?

Fluffykins ~🦻🦖🦕🧸

Mikey, Mitsuya, and Baji (Separate) with Reader Who Has a Learning Disability and Is Hearing Impaired

Pairings: Mikey x Fem!Reader, Mitsuya x Fem!Reader, Baji x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none?

Genre: Comfort

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: How Mikey, Mitsuya, and Baji treat and love you despite have a learning disability and being hearing impaired.

[A/N: Hey lovely! I hope i included everything you asked for! I tried my best, but please let me know if I got anything wrong or if this didn't come out the way you wanted it to. Anyway, hope you enjoy it and it provides you with some comfort! <3]

Mikey:

Mikey fell in love with you at first sight, immediately and your caring personality just added onto the list of reasons why he fell for you!

Literally saw you, claimed you as his, felt his heart bang in his chest, and from that day on he never left your side

So as he slowly began to learn about all these little things about you, specifically you being hearing impaired, it shocked him

He was very curious about your hearing aids and he was an annoying little brat in the beginning when he was getting to know you

He’d try and take them out of your ears and put them in his own because he wanted to know what they were, why you used them, how they helped you, and even was a little curious about what you were able to hear and how that was different from the way he could hear

BUT he’s never judgemental about any part of you

Mikey loves you regardless of anything he finds out about you, as long as you never hurt him, he’s your loyal guard dog LOL

Speaking of guard dogs…Mikey is very protective over you, not that anyone would dare to criticize you or judge you in front of him, but if he ever finds out that one of his men made you feel bad… good luck to them O.o

In a private setting between just the both of you, Mikey is very soft and adores all your little quirks that make you, you!

You learning disability doesn’t bother him at all, might even try and persuade you to not go to class 💀 but don’t listen to him NFEJKAF

Mikey loves the little moments that you two have together where you’re alone and you just go on and on about all the little things in life that make you so happy

He wishes he could enjoy life the way you can, he’d love to see the world through your eyes, not only so he could experience that kind of love for the world, but also so he could understand you more

As for patience, Mikey definitely isn’t that patience, and in the beginning he was very impatient as he didn’t fully understand your condition

All your ‘what’s?’ over the phone bugged him a bit, but again, as he got used to it and learned more about why you did that, he became very patient with you

You are the extent of his patience though, he is not patient with anyone else

If he catches anyone rolling their eyes at you or getting annoyed with you for not hearing them, they’d definitely be in a lot of trouble

At the end of the day, Mikey would do everything in his power to keep you safe, happy, and comfortable (especially around him)

Mitsuya:

This absolute gentleman has no problem with any of the things you might consider flaws

To him, these are all the things that made him fall for you, little quirks unique to you and he wouldn’t want you any other way

He does his best to help you out if you ever need him

Need a study buddy? He’s got your back. Clumsy? He’ll help you back on your feet or clean up any messes that you make accidentally

Best boy frl frl, he’s always keeping a close eye on you, but he wouldn’t necessarily be as protective as Mikey

He wants to see you become more independent and happy with yourself, so sometimes he on standby whenever you come across a challenge and will only step in if you ask for his help or if you’re in any danger

Will do everything in his power to try anything that might help him communicate better with you because of your hearing issues and speech issues, so give him plenty of tips and advice, he’s ready to learn anything at all

He is very very patient with you, probably the most patient out of the other two, so you have nothing to worry about if you’re having a hard time hearing one day or learning something

He’d love to teach you all about fashion and how to make clothes if you were up for it, but he’s definitely a very patient teacher and will take his time teaching you how to do things

Will never get mad or annoyed at you for anything–if it takes you a while to understand what he said over the phone, he’ll repeat it as many times as you need him to

Adores your personality so much and how you enjoy the small things in life so easily, but that’s the part where he’s a little protective over you

He doesn’t want anyone to take advantage of your kindness, especially since you’re always hanging out with him and the gang, he’s always cautious about the people that approach you and is ready to step in if he needs to

You’re in excellent hands with Mitsuya 10000000000%

Baji:

As for Baji, this man has no right to be judging anyone in the first place 💀 especially regarding your learning disability, bc he’s hopeless when it comes to learning anything

He is literally an idiot so he will reassure you that you’re definitely more intelligent than him, which helps boost your self-esteem

If anyone tries to call you stupid, he’s ready to fight or throw himself under the bus and call himself stupid, because no one talks to his s/o like that

He’d probably ask Chifuyu to help the both of you, and invites you to study sessions (he’s not really into the studying though, he just wants to spend extra time with you heh)

He likes admiring you from afar and boasts to everyone about how lucky he is to have you

Like Mikey, he is very protective and will do everything and anything in his power to keep you safe and away from small judgmental whispers from outsiders

Though he is vocal about how proud he is to be your partner, the sappy, lovey-dovey stuff stays between you both behind closed doors where no one can see or judge

He completely overreacts if someone even looks at you in the wrong way so try and keep a short leash on him because he will cause LOTS of havoc if left unsupervised

Like Mikey, it takes him a while to become patient with you

When you first met him, he was a little taken aback by your issues, he’s never met someone like you with the same disabilities as you, but he learns to love them all

Adores your personality, he just wants to throw you in his pocket where he can keep you safe and keep an eye on you all day away from everyone else

He just wants to learn more about how you enjoy the smallest things in life as the only things he loves are you, his family, and his friends–that’s all

You practically become the chill pill Baji needs, teach him how to be more patient

REGARDLESS, Baji will treat you like an absolute queen, anything you need, he’ll get it, anyone bothering you? He’ll deal with it, no questions asked

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 8/2/2022

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#BNHA #My Hero Academia #anti bakugo

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logicalbookthief · 3 years

Text

Things Left Unsaid -- An Analysis of Rei & Touya

Apparently Rei has been getting a lot of flack lately, all of it undeserved, and since I had a post analyzing her relationship with Touya in the works already, I figured no time like the present.

Disclaimer #1: There are a lot of issues with the writing for Rei’s character that have nothing to do with her and everything to do with how the storyline is using her, which I will address and examine.

Disclaimer #2: I’m someone who, while always curious as to what kind of relationship Rei had with her oldest son before he died, never thought it would be revealed that Touya was close to his mom. I don’t think you get the Dabi we see in Chapters 290-295 without him being so warped by his relationship with his father yet so dependent on his attention that he was willing to kill his brother and himself simply for his father’s acknowledgement.

But that’s what I find so interesting about Rei and Touya -- it’s a relationship that mainly consists of regrets and things left unsaid. There isn’t the anger or resentment Dabi feels for Endeavor, because that intense level of emotion sprung from the loss of the father who used to be his whole world. His feelings toward his mother seem more amicable, but also more distant.

And while she could’ve done some things differently in regards to her oldest, I want to make it clear that the distance between them was very much by design.

After all, Touya was the end goal of their marriage. It was never any secret as to why Enji wanted to marry her and to some extent Rei must’ve realized that this child was not meant to be hers: the child was the transaction, the thing she was needed to create, to give to her husband. Of course she loved Touya and was likely his primary caregiver for most of his life, but there was no doubt that once his quirk manifested and he could begin his hero training, his life would be dominated by his father. Which is what happened.

Here, I would like to point out something I noticed in the flashback chapters. We never see any panels of Enji alone with any of his children during their infancy -- even with Shouto, the perfect child he longed for, we see Rei holding Shouto, sitting by him as he sleeps. Enji is there tangentially. Once Shouto begins his training, that is when we see him with his father.

So to see Enji with Touya when he was a baby, prior to his quirk manifesting, strikes me as a big deal. But it makes sense if you remember that he’d placed all his hopes, dreams and expectations on his firstborn. Initially, it doesn’t look like he even considered the possibility that Touya wouldn’t be his successor or that his little eugenics experiment would fail; this was his first, most optimistic attempt at a masterpiece. So I don’t believe it’s far-fetched to see him spend more time with Touya right off the bat (it’s what will make the eventual abandonment all the more crushing).

However, Rei isn’t seen at all in the snippet of Touya’s infancy, despite us knowing she was relegated to the caregiver role. Rei is literally out of the picture. Compare this to how she features prominently in Shouto’s infancy or how we see her holding a baby Natsuo. You could argue that, hey, we don’t see her holding a baby Fuyumi either, but there’s other scenes where Fuyumi’s attached to her mother’s hip or crying over her being hurt. Things that suggest a closeness, when the only scene we get of just her and Touya is one where they’re at odds.

As we move further into Touya’s childhood, though, Rei becomes the only voice we hear advocate for him against his father. I’m referencing two specific instances:

When Enji coerces her into having more children to replace Touya now that his father has deemed him a failure, something she knows will hurt their son deeply.

And after Touya lashes out at Shouto, which Rei doesn’t blame on Touya, but rather on his father. She delivers such a satisfying condemnation of his actions, probably the most cutting one Endvr’s received to date, and it so accurately sums up one of his major character flaws.

How can you call yourself a hero when you can’t even face your own son?

The tragedy of it all is that Rei never said any of this in front of Touya -- it was always said in private, just to her husband. That alone took courage, yes, but it would’ve meant everything to Touya to hear her condemn his father aloud. Instead when she does speak to him, she says this:

It’s why I can’t wrap my head around that scene in Ch 302, where after Enji admits he didn’t know what to say to Touya, Rei replies, “Neither did I.”

When we’re shown in flashbacks during that same chapter that she did understand her son. “He just wants to be acknowledged by you” is quite the indication that she, at the very least, understood the cause of Touya’s turmoil even if she couldn’t fully relate to it herself. So why can’t she say any of this to him?

The answer is in the way she addresses Touya, as it is nearly identical to how Nao addresses Tenko in this scene:

Both Touya and Tenko grew up in similar households: the father had all the power, physical and financial, so the mothers were left to try and comfort their children in a way that didn’t go against their husbands’ desires -- and so, to use Tenko’s own words, they would “reject them with kindness.”

So it’s no wonder that Touya lashes out at his mother after she suggests he pursue other things. He isn’t five like Tenko was, he’s thirteen and has a much clearer understanding of why she says this and why it’s a bit hypocritical, since he’s aware of her situation, too.

Just as she was bound by her family, who wanted her to marry Endvr for the money and status, he’s bound by the expectations of his family. I’m not sure if I’ve seen anyone else touch on this detail, but when Touya states that he knows his grandparents sold his mom into marriage so his dad could have a child, we could infer that Touya knows enough to realize that his mother might not have necessarily wanted him.

Not him specifically, but any child — the story has neglected to flesh her out beyond her marriage and motherhood, so we have no idea if Rei wanted to become a mother prior to this arrangement, despite how much she loves her kids now — although it is possible that he might’ve internalized it this way.

So you have Touya, who at least knows with certainty that his father wanted him to exist, yet he comes to understand that his father only wants him if he can meet a specific set of expectations, and if he cannot, he’ll be discarded. If he can’t surpass All Might, he can’t fulfill his reason for existing and his father will have to replace him. So to have his mother urge him to follow a path other than becoming a hero would mean, to Touya, accepting that he is the mistake he fears he is. Of course he isn’t going to respond well to that.

I don’t like when people try to compare Touya’s reaction in this moment to Shouto’s when Rei tells him he isn’t bound by his father’s blood, using that to paint Shouto as the “good” child and Touya as the “bad” one. They didn’t react differently because of any innate sense of goodness or lack thereof -- they reacted differently because the situations are different.

Telling Shouto that he didn’t have to be like his father comforted Shouto, who only knew his father as the bully who hurt his mom. He associated his father, and his father’s fire, with all of that fear and pain -- and thus, he associated the part of himself that took after his father with those feelings. She wasn’t denying his dream of becoming a hero, only assuring him that when he became a hero it could be whatever kind of hero he chose to be, that he wasn’t doomed to be like his father.

Whereas what she tells Touya sounds a lot like what his father told him, which was to give up on being a hero and pursue other aspirations.

Encouraging Shouto to become his own version of a hero still falls in line with what Endvr ultimately wants, which is for Shouto to be a hero capable of surpassing All Might. Whereas this is what happens when Touya continues to train to do that against his father’s wishes:

This is where the framing begins to bother me and where Rei’s characterization becomes inconsistent.

So in this scene from Ch 302, we see Enji abusing his wife for “letting” Touya continue to train, punishing her for her “failure” to stop him. Obviously, none of that is Rei’s fault. If anything, Enji would be more responsible for preventing Touya from hurting himself since he’s the reason his son is hurting himself in the first place.

Moreover, the fact that he hits Rei over this sort of muddies the water of an previously-established narrative. Since the Sports Festival arc, we’ve known that Endvr abused his wife because she tried to interfere with Shouto’s training. It got to the point where she was terrified of her husband and it drove her to a breakdown. Why introduce this new aspect to the abuse, when it was already established that a) he was physically abusive and b) his motivations for abusing her were explicit to the audience?

I’m not saying it doesn’t make sense that a man who hits his wife for one reason could find another reason to do it and justify his actions to himself. And while the scene does portray Endvr in a bad light to show how wrong his actions are, literally draping his figure in shadow, why does it even dare to suggest the idea that Rei was remiss in her duties as a mother? Again, the scene isn’t even necessary, since the narrative has long-since showed the audience that Enji abused his wife.

By itself, the scene would read as further exploration of how Rei was victimized and how it affected her children. When you look at it with the chapter as a whole, though? Remember, this is the chapter where Rei claims that all of the family shares the blame in what happened to Touya, displacing some of the blame that rightfully rests on Enji.

But my major gripe with this scene is how it reframes the sole moment we get of Rei and Touya alone. Because we know that Rei understands Touya, based on her confrontations with her husband in Ch 301 & 302. Rather than encourage him to be what he wants or acknowledge that his father is in the wrong, however, her advice falls in line with what Enji wants -- to stop Touya from training. And this comes after a scene where we see Enji beat his wife when she doesn’t stop Touya from training.

With all that in mind, it could potentially be read as Rei trying stop Touya for the sake of protecting herself and the family -- I don’t think it’s coincidence that in the scene where he hits her that we see Shouto, Fuyumi & Natsuo all as witnesses who are very distressed by what’s happening to their mother -- at the cost of Touya’s need to be validated. And if executed well or at least better than it has here, that wouldn’t be a bad choice of narrative per se, and it would fit into the pattern where the households the villains were raised in -- notably Shigaraki, Dabi & Toga -- mimic the society they live in, just on a smaller scale.

Except. Does that sort of narrative make sense based on what we already know about Rei?

Certainly, it is natural to want to protect yourself under physical and/or emotional duress by appeasing your abuser. This sort of complicated dynamic appears in the Shimura family, too. Just like in the house that Kotaro built, the Todoroki family revolves around the desires of the abuser and is dictated by his whims.

I would argue that Nao does give us a well-written example of this narrative. From the beginning, it’s established that she loves Tenko dearly. But in the house her husband built, there’s no room to love her son as he deserves. She prioritizes the feelings of Tenko’s father for the sake of maintaining peace in the household and this is established quickly and plainly.

Early on in the flashback, Kotaro exerts his control over the house, while Nao + her parents look uncomfortable. Despite this, we watch as they comply with his rules, all at the expense of Tenko’s feelings. When she stands up to Kotaro at last, it is not where Tenko can see and already too late. It’s a painful story, full of regret and sadness, but it is consistent from start to end. Nobody feels out-of-character or there to prop up anybody else.

So why doesn’t Rei feel as consistent in this narrative?

Because it doesn’t fit with everything we knew about Rei prior to her abuser’s subpar redemption arc.

The way she interacts with Touya would make sense, if this was how she was portrayed from the start. However, her behavior in Shouto’s flashback -- where she was first introduced -- contrasts what we get in the later Todoroki flashbacks.

Let’s compare this to the scenes in Ch 302. Here, Rei interferes on Shouto’s behalf. She advocates for her son in front of Shouto where he can hear. She stands up to his bully/villain and tries to protect him, while also validating his feelings in the process. Directly after this, Enji hits her, not for failing to comply with his demands, but for defying him.

It is difficult to reconcile this Rei with the Rei we get in Ch 302. And if you try to find an in-story reason for the inconsistency, the options either do a disservice to Rei or make things even more painful for Touya. But I’m sure most of you have realized that I’m going to suggest a reason for this inconsistency that goes beyond the canon.

Because when Rei was first introduced in the story, Endvr was unequivocally the villain in the Todoroki family, not some misguided patriarch trying to atone for his “past” mistakes. Years later and in the midst of his redemption arc, the narrative seems to be intent on making this man more palatable to readers, and it’s used Rei at every opportunity to prop up his efforts to be better. Often, though, it takes some of the heat off Enji by displacing it onto other family members, most significantly Rei & Touya.

Like, you can literally see the difference in the frame from early in the manga to now:

Ch 39: Endvr trains his five-year-old to the point where he’s throwing up due overextension and being punched by a fully grown adult who is also his father. Rei tries to protect her son and gets slapped by Endvr. All the blames rests squarely on Endvr, who is clearly the aggressor and painted as the villain here.

Ch 302: Endvr hits Rei for not preventing Touya from sneaking out to train, knocking her to the ground. Again, Endvr is clearly the aggressor, but oh this time it’s not driven solely by his selfish desires it’s also cocnern for his son; Rei is the victim but oh she also should have been watching him more closely, and oh well why was Touya going out in the first place, when everyone has told him to stop and he knows his mom will get punished for it?

Honestly, I can understand where some people have mixed feelings over Rei’s character, particularly since the writing has done her such a disservice recently. With that being said, however, it takes a minimum amount of critical thinking to recognize that while you can criticize some choices she made, you cannot hold her to the same standard of accountability as Enji, it’s absurd. The power imbalance was obviously tipped in Endvr’s favor, always.

It is a shame, too, that we can’t have more discussions that don’t turn into some readers (a lot of whom are attempting to make Endvr sound less horrible than he actually was) trying to demonize her. It’s doubly a shame the story itself doesn’t bother to flesh her out as a person, instead using her as a prop, because the complex relationships she has with Touya -- with all her children, really -- has plenty of room for exploration.

Like, there was no reason to add this new dimension of resentment due to her spouting Enji’s words back at Touya, when there was already a source of tension supported by previous canon -- the neglect the Todoroki kids suffered because Rei couldn’t be the parent they needed, due to her declining mental health and eventual breakdown.

Or, if you want to complicate their dynamic further, why not add something that focuses on Rei and has nothing to do with Enji? We learn in the flashbacks that Rei agreed to the marriage more-or-less to please her family, lamenting that she “intended to smile through it to the end,” essentially admitting that her hope was she could grin and bear it. It is telling that she had this attitude before entering her marriage; evidently, she was raised with the idea that she should be acquiescent to her parents’ whims and not express herself if she was only going to be contrary. Maybe she didn’t know how to deal with Touya’s very expressive, very emotional outbursts as a result. And her inability to respond would be the exact opposite of what Touya was seeking.

Not to mention that Touya died, and for the last decade, Rei was under the impression she had lost her son forever. He died while she was hospitalized, torn up with guilt over what she did to Shouto, only to find out that her other son died in a frankly horrific manner, and she could do nothing. By the time she would’ve found out, it was too late to even try to do anything. I can’t imagine what she must’ve felt in terms of regret alone, plus her grief. And I’m still mad we were robbed of her reaction to Touya being alive, because now suddenly there is a chance to do something, to change what was once written in stone.

Or what about Touya’s feelings for his mother, that have yet to be given much depth? As the oldest and most aware of his existence, it seems like he was the first to truly understand his mother’s situation and I can’t help but wonder: If Touya knew he vessel for his father’s ambition, and his mother was sold into role of creating/caring for him, did he question her love for him? Once he found out one parent’s love was conditional, it wouldn’t be a leap for him to consider it for the other. And yet if that’s true, Dabi doesn’t appear to hold any ill-will towards her for that. He was angry at her hypocrisy, because he knows she should understand, but her words to him didn’t reflect that.

All of that is fascinating and so much better than what we got in canon, so far at least. I’m hoping for them interact in the present at least once before the end of the series, and I think they will, but as to how satisfying a reconciliation it’ll be, I guess we’ll have to wait to see how the Todoroki plotline progresses from here on out.

#bnha #touya todoroki #rei todoroki #bnha meta #bnha analysis #this took way too long because I kept having more thoughts which made it even longer lol #and it actually gave me another idea for a touya & rei meta post but this is already a monster so that'll have to be its own separate post

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money.

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Text

Abusive boyfriend w/ Midoriya, Bakugou and Todoroki

Request: Can I have deku, bakugo and Todoroki reacting to the readers unhealthy boyfriend. He brings her down a lot and abusive. - anonymous

Being part of a toxic relationship is so so soooo painful. Thankfully reader-chan has her heroes to save her. Hope you like it. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: abuse both physical and mental, ptsd and panic attacks, cursing, characters are aged up (they have graduated)

Midoriya Izuku

-Okay so he basically was the one who managed to build your confidence back up after the horrendous break up with your ex.

-Your ex never laid a hand on you but his words were enough to bruise your ego and self worth so much that you believed that you were nothing compared to others.

-From looks to personality, you believed that even a snail was more worth it than you.

-Now you are a beautiful girl and very very smart.

-Guys and girls looked your way even though you were in a relationship.

-And your ex was having none of it.

-It started off really subtly.

- “Are you sure you want to wear that to dinner?”

- “We are going to grab some coffee not going out for drinks.”

- “Don’t you think you are showing too much skin?”

-Then the body shaming started.

- “I think you shouldn’t wear that, I mean look how large it makes you look.”

- “Have you been eating more?”

- “How about I make a diet for you?”

-This really brought you down.

-It reached the point where you would only wear really baggy hoodies in order to hide your body.

-After that turning point he still wasn’t satisfied.

-People, although fewer than before, still had the nerve to hit on you and it was getting on his nerve.

-He started belittling you in front of friends and acquaintances, destroying your already fragile confidence.

-He had dug you a grave and sugarcoated the casket with empty I love you’s.

-He had made you believe that he was the only one who would accept you and love you despite you’re so flawed.

-And he managed to keep you for quite some time.

-Then Midoriya comes along.

-A childhood friend who had become a pro hero and on the top five.

-He saw how skinny you had become, borderline unhealthy, how you shied away from him and literally everyone.

-You were like a scared deer.

-Then the boyfriend came in and everything fell into place.

-Midoriya is smart, he caught on your boyfriend’s belittlement and the reason behind it.

-Now getting you out of this toxic relationship is his new mission.

-You ran into him more often after that first encounter and he always talked to you, complimenting you whenever he could.

-Your boyfriend didn’t catch on until it was too late.

-Midoriya had managed to get you to talk about your relationship and what your boyfriend was like, he had opened your eyes to his abuse and helped you built up the courage to stand up to him and dump his ass.

-He was there of course to support you after the break up.

-And of course after months and months of seeing each other almost everyday, you two became a thing.

-Finally you get to experience true love with someone who truly appreciates you.

Bakugou Katsuki

-You and Bakugou have been friends since high school.

-Inseparable.

-He comes to you for everything, all his troubles are solved by you and you alone.

-You’re special!!

-So when you get a boyfriend he is the first to meet the guy.

-In truth he really didn’t want to because he has been in lobe with you for the longest time and seeing you with someone else reminds him that he is a coward.

-Anyway he meets him and everything is fine, he looks decent and he seems to treat you well.

-As months pass you seem to distance yourself more and more from him.

-Bakugou at first is angry, he is fuming I tell you.

-He doesn’t like the silence that he receives when he calls, or the single word replies when he texts and he especially despises your refusal to go out with him like you used to.

-He gets that you have a boyfriend now and you have to spend more time with your bf but he still felt betrayed.

-Then doubt started to settle in his mind.

-Maybe you realized he wasn’t worth the trouble, I mean he is a difficult person, maybe your new boyfriend opened your eyes and now you want nothing to do with him.

-Or maybe you figured out he was in love with you.

-Had he been scowling more than usual while he was meeting your boyfriend?

-He wanted to ask you what he did wrong but he couldn’t reach you.

-So he sucked it up and drowned himself in his hero work, drowning his nagging mind along with his free time.

-Then something unexpected happened.

-Uraraka visited him, worry written all over her face.

-She was worried for you and wanted to ask him if everything was alright, since he was your best friend.

- “She stopped showing up to our weekly girl evening and she won’t answer my texts.... I’m really worried for her Bakugou.”

-That was the last straw for him.

-He went to your apartment and after five minutes of knocking your boyfriend opened the door.

-The scowls on the guy’s face was really REALLY pushing his buttons.

- “Is Y/N here?”

- “What do you want her for?”

- “I want to talk to her.”

-This man..... he closed the door in Bakugou’s face.

-Well closed is putting it mildly.

-He slammed the door shut with so much force that a mirror down the hall rattled.

-Bakugou was ready to blow the door open when he heard the shouts.

- “Y/N why the fuck is that guy here?”

- “W-what guy?”

- “Don’t act all innocent you slut! The guy you are fucking!”

- “I-I don’t k-know who y-you are talking a-about.”

-The moment he heard your sniffles echo through the door he was inside the apartment shoving the guy away from you.

- “Don’t you fucking dare speak to her like that, asshole.”

-You were trembling behind him and Bakugou could feel the sob threatening to escape your lips.

-Looking over his shoulder at you he spoke gently as if you were a scared kitten.

- “Y/N could you go get some of your stuff ready? I’m taking you away from this dickhead.”

- “Who do you think you are? That’s MY girlfriend she listens to me alone!”

- “Don’t speak as if she’s an object!”

-You had disappeared to your room to get your things and were now clinging to Bakugou’s back.

- “So you are fucking him. What should I have expected from a whore like you!”

-Okay now Bakugou was presented with two options.

-Option A: beat the living shit out of this guy and most likely losing his hero license for a week.

-Option B: get you out of here and let this asshole boil in his own defeat.

-He went with option B.

-Wordlessly he guided you out of your apartment complex and into his car, drove you to his house and proceeded to help you calm down.

-You had had one panic attack in the past so he didn’t really know what to do.

-But he managed.

- “Whatever he said to you isn’t true. I don’t know what actually went down between you two and what he got into the pretty little head of your but none of that matters. Just know that we are all here for you. Me, the girls even stupid Deku. And we love you, I love you so don’t worry about anything. Everything will be alright.”

-From that point on everything was history.

-It didn’t take long for you two to start dating and Bakugou made sure to have a firm talk with your now ex boyfriend when you ran into him at the grocery store.

-Get wrecked douchebag.

Todoroki Shouto

-Toxic relationships is something Todoroki is a pro at this point.

-He grew up in one so yeah.

-He sees the signs of the abuse faster than anyone.

-First of all, you inch away from anyone who starts flaying their arms.

-Despite the warm weather you always wear long sleeves.

-And he has seen you applying extra make up around your eye once.

-He also notices how you always try to avoid annoying your boyfriend, like you take extreme measures.

-You distance yourself from other males going as far as to avoid him to an extent.

-Then he sees the bruises.

-You two were training at the agency’s gym when your shirt rode up your torso and there was this huge bruise right under your ribs.

- “Y/N who did this?”

- “Oh I just got slightly injured during my last patrol.”

-He isn’t buying it since he was with you during your last patrol and you didn’t get injured.

-But he lets it slide because he believes that you know whats best for you and you will get away from this guy.

-But for some reason you stay with him.

-For months.

-And Todo can’t take it anymore.

- “Y/N can I talk to you?”

-He talks to you about what he has seen and that he knows that your boyfriend is doing this to you.

- “So please, please leave him, get out while you can. Y/N I can’t see you hurt like this.”

-You see the thing was that you had made the stupid decision of moving in with him and now.... you had nowhere to go.

-If you broke up with him you wouldn’t have a place to stay and you couldn’t start searching for a new place, he traces your phone and search history.

- “You’ll live with me. I’ll give you everything you need just please please let go of him. He doesn’t deserve you. I hate seeing you so hurt and broken.”

- “Please come with me then, Shouto I-I can’t do this alone.”

-Of course he came with you, standing in between you and that asshole as he went to strike you when you broke the news to him.

- “You are leaving me for this piece of shit huh? Of course you would you whore!”

-He went as far as activating his quirk, attacking Shouto in an attempt to get to you.

- “I own you you fucking slut! No one will want you! You are mine!”

-Shouto wasn’t as calm as Bakugou in this situation, punching the guy before leaving the apartment, making sure that the guy got the message and wouldn’t try to come after you.

-Back at his apartment, Shouto comforted you as best he could.

-You know where this leads.

-Shouto gives you the space you need before making a move.

-My mans waits months before even remotely flirting with you.

-After a year long wait he finally manages to ask you out.

-And the rest is history.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @dnarez-mangetsu @reinyrei @bemorefiction

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im-frickin-trying-okay · 3 years

Note

Hello!

I just finished reading the Shoto Kisses and really into it ❣️ It's melt my heart. Sooo, can i request for a same topic but with Bakugou, Shoji and Iida please? Thank you ☺️

Yes, of course!

Best Boi Kisses

I hope I did this justice, I love these guys lol

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo's not typically one for public displays of affection.

Don't misunderstand, he truly does care about you, but he has a reputation to uphold.

Despite this, it's not uncommon for him to kiss your knuckles, or hold you tight, especially after villain attacks.

He's not the most touchy-feely kind of guy, but he enjoys being in your general viscinity.

You're a little more "clingy" from an outsider's perspective, but you both know that he appreciates it when you initiate contact.

When he does decide to get close on his own, he makes the most of his time with you.

No matter where, although your lips and your temples seem to be his favorite places, his kisses are always loving.

Even if his actions are calm and gentle, he puts his whole heart into them, just as he does with everything. He's always passionate.

He wants you to know that even if he doesn't always say it, even if he gets lost in his head, even if it feels like he's drowning in the pressure and responsibilities, even if he loses sight of everything else, he'll always love you.

Some days, you feel like a main character in his show, someone he can count on and care about, and sometimes you're a lifeline when he realizes just how real everything around him is, but either way, he knows he can't live without you.

Behind the scenes, during the private moments of just you and him, he makes this absolutely clear.

He'll press his lips to your jaw, and trail kisses down to your neck...

He'll gladly leave kisses over any scars or marks, or anything that you see as imperfect.

He's never seen them as imperfect. If he didn't think you were damn near perfect, he wouldn't waste his time.

He loves you, and expresses it in his own way.

Mezo Shouji

Shouji's not a very touchy-feely person either.

It's more because of nervousness and a general feeling of being unsure of what to do.

He doesn't always know what to do when he feels clingier than usual.

He likes to wrap his arms around you, though.

It's warm in his embrace, and he enjoys holding you.

Kisses are a bit awkward sometimes.

He's kissed you on the forehead, through the mask before, and sometimes he uses his quirk.

The amount of times that strangers thought he was throwing a punch is ridiculous.

The first time you saw him without his mask, he was terrified, but when you showed no fear, and only compassion, he could've sworn his heart exploded.

Since then, he's grown a bit more comfortable in his own skin, and a thousand times more comfortable with showing his face, but only you get the privilege of seeing him smile.

Sometimes Shouji uses his quirk to its full extent, just so he can kiss you everywhere at once.

He deeply enjoys every moment the two of you spend together, and while some are nicer than others, he likes being in your presence.

He really wants to make you feel the same way that you make him feel. Like your flaws are strengths, and like your insecurities are beautiful.

He doesn't know what you see. He's not you, so of course he doesn't. But no matter what it is that you see, or what it is that you think...

In his eyes, they are.

Tenya Iida

Iida's not a professional at intimacy, in fact, he's far from it.

He's spent a lot of his life focused on meeting perfect expectations, acting perfectly formal, and staying perfectly in line. But with you, he realizes that he doesn't have to be perfect.

He gets to be truly himself around you. This makes your moments alone that much sweeter.

He'll gladly pull you into his arms and kiss the tip of your nose, just to remind you that he thinks you're adorable.

He also likes to pepper your shoulders with kisses, because he likes to hear you giggle when he manages to sneak up on you.

When the atmosphere of the room grows heated, he likes to kiss your neck, leaving soft bites, and even occasionally moving up to take your earlobe between his teeth.

He knows that your mere presence can brighten his day, but he prefers getting to hold you.

One of his main goals in any quality time you have, because yes, this organized guy has goals, is to make sure you know what you mean to him.

Every touch, every word, every silent glance your way, it all reminds him that you're his everything.

Every soft kiss, every hug, and knows for sure that you make him happy.

And even if those kisses grow sloppy, be it from sleepiness, or something completely different, he knows that he loves you to the moon and back.

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wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

breaking point — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: draco reaches breaking point.

a/n: i wrote this for @nebulablakemurphy‘s writing challenge !! congrats again and i hope i did your prompt justice <3 the prompt was “i had no choice” and will be in bold (also can i just say this was so sad to write .. draco just needs a hug my dudes)

[Y/N] knows every inch of Draco better than she knows herself. Knows all of the quirks that he thinks are flaws, all his little insecurities, his habits and his innermost secrets and all the worries that plague his head even before he tells her about them.

But she doesn't know how long he has been like this. She notices, though, that the light in Draco's eyes has begun to dim; he is losing some of his color, the bags under his eyes deepening, the frown lines drawn across his face growing more prominent. The worst part is that she doesn't know exactly when this started—how long he's been like this—but one day she knocks on his dorm room, when all of his roommates are home for the holidays and only a few Slytherins have chosen to stay.

When she pushes open the door, Draco is alone, hunched over at the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, bowed down like he's trying to become as small as possible.

She stops in the doorframe.

"Draco?" she says softly, rapping her knuckles against the open door as she steps inside the room. It's dark. The lanterns are off. "Why weren't you at dinner?"

Draco doesn't respond. Only as [Y/N] draws nearer does she realize that Draco's hands are trembling in his hair, and [Y/N] panics a little, feels her breath catch in her throat with dread as she pauses halfway to him.

"Draco?" she asks quietly, tentatively, stepping forward and reaching out a hand to touch him—

But then Draco recoils like he's been struck, standing up so suddenly [Y/N] lets out a quiet little gasp.

"Get out," he whispers, eyes wide but not quite meeting hers, and his voice—he doesn't sound like himself. Doesn't look like himself, either; he looks more tired than ever, like he's aged a thousand years older, his face gaunt and sunken. [Y/N] stares at him, at a loss for words.

Since when had it gotten this bad? She'd known for a while that something was up; something he wasn't telling her. Something she couldn't figure out. But she thought she was helping him by not bringing it up and by giving him space.

Guilt blooms inside of her chest. Should she have tried harder? Found out what exactly it was so she could help him properly and not just sit by the sidelines, thinking that she was helping, but in reality she'd watched him get worse?

Like a ticking time bomb, she thinks to herself. And I just let him explode.

She takes a hesitant step forward, hand held out before her as she says, gently, (and yet there is only so much she can do to mask how her voice shakes), "Tell me what's wrong, Draco."

"Get out."

"Darling," her breath rattles in her throat. "Let me help."

"GET OUT!"

[Y/N] pauses several feet away from him. He has whipped out his wand, pointed it directly towards her, and [Y/N] freezes in place.

"You can't help me," Draco says, breathing ragged. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," his voice cracks, his wand shaking in his hand. "Get out. Please."

[Y/N] inhales sharply. But even then, she doesn't stand down. She isn't afraid of Draco; she could never be. She should see a dangerous boy with his wand pointed at her, capable of doing anything he wants to to force her out of the room, but instead all she sees is Draco. The boy she has loved for so long, who, for some reason that she doesn't yet know, is in so much pain.

"You're not going to hurt me," she says. There isn't a sliver of doubt in her voice.

Draco makes a frustrated noise, his lips curling in a way that lets [Y/N] know he's trying to hold it together. "You don't.. you don't know that. You don't know what I'm capable of, [Y/N]," he says, and it should sound threatening, but all she hears is anguish. "You don't know what I've become."

[Y/N] risks another step closer to him. Five feet away. The hand holding his wand stays up, pointed directly towards her, but she knows, the same way she knows that the sun will rise and fall everyday, that Draco wouldn't hurt her.

"Draco," she begins, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Just let me help you. Tell me what's wrong."

And then Draco does something that knocks the breath out of her throat—roughly, he pulls up the sleeve of his robes, revealing the skin of his left arm.

A tattoo of a skull, with a serpent protruding from its mouth.

The Dark Mark.

And all of a sudden everything makes sense.

[Y/N] blinks and forces herself to breathe again, mind untangling bits of logic, stringing them around her throat, pulling tight. "Draco—"

"I had no choice!" he screams; a guttural sound. Something so pained it doesn't even sound like him anymore. But he doesn't look or sound or seem angry at her—no, the way he tugs at his hair in frustration, the blazing look in his eyes all suggests that he is more angry at the world than anything. Angry at himself, even. But not at her. "He said he'd kill everyone I loved if I didn't take the bloody mark—he said he'd murder my entire family—and [Y/N], he knows you, I don't know how but he knows you and he—"

A cut-off sort of choking noise leaves Draco's lips. "He said he'd force me to watch you die."

“Oh, Draco.”

She rushes forward just as he sinks to his knees, face contorting as he begins to cry—heartbroken sobs that surge straight through the spaces between her ribcage and sink into her heart. But the pain she feels as she wraps her arms around Draco and holds him close no doubt pales in comparison to what he feels.

"It's okay, it's okay," she whispers into the crown of his head, letting him cry into her shoulder. And it hurts, how this is the only thing she can do to help him, and it's excruciating—it's torture, how his chest lurches with the force of his sobs, how he tries to stifle the whimpers that leave his lips and he keeps choking out apologies as though this human show of vulnerability is something to be ashamed of. And it's not. It's not.

“It’s fine, Draco,” she murmurs, raking her hands through his hair, pressing comforting little kisses to the top of his head. “It’s okay. You can cry. It’s okay.”

She can't rid him of all his pain. God, she'd love to—if she could only reach straight into him and pull all the pain out, even if it means she has to bear the weight of his burdens herself, she would do it. With zero hesitation.

But she can't, so all that she is left to do is hold Draco as tightly to her as she can, his tears soaking into her collar. At some point—she doesn't know exactly when—she realizes that her own cheeks are wet, and that salty taste on her tongue is likely her tears, but this isn't about her. This is about Draco and that blasted mark on his arm and everything that he has been forced to endure. So she presses her lips together into a tight line, holding back her own sobs, silent tears dripping down her chin and onto Draco's hair.

She holds him until she loses track of time, sitting curled up on the floor as she waits for Draco's sobs to turn into quiet sniffles. When they do, she feels his shoulders sag as the fight in him dies down, replaced only by weak sort of defeat that has his head hanging low, leaning still on the crook of her neck, shoulders hunched over.

[Y/N] stays silent. She knows this isn't about her. So she waits, rubbing circles into his shoulder blades and carding her hands gently through his hair because she knows that it calms him. She waits for two, three minutes, but she doesn't count the seconds as they pass; just stares out the window of the Slytherin dorm room, watching the water ripple just behind the glass.

And she waits.

And waits.

And she knows she will wait for as long as it takes.

Finally, after some time, Draco makes a move to lift his head off of her shoulder. She lets him, slowly, hands sliding from his back to cup the side of his face as he draws away to look at her.

Draco stares at her through bleary eyes, and oh—[Y/N] feels more tears stinging at the back of her eyes, burning at her throat. He looks even more tired from up close. So, very tired. His eyes are swollen and his cheeks tinged pink from all the crying, but what has [Y/N]'s tears spilling over again is that sad frown on his face—and [Y/N] realizes, with yet another horrible rush of guilt, that this isn't the first time she has seen this look on Draco. It's the same expression he has worn every single day that [Y/N] convinced herself wasn't something to worry too much about, but now she sees it clear as day: that look of resignation, as though he's been through so, so much and just wants to rest. To have it done with.

So, so tired. And so sad.

And it's that sudden realization—that she might not know Draco as well as she thought she did, that he has been here, struggling, all of this time, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders without anyone to help him bear it, and [Y/N] has never realized—it's the realization of that that has her whispering, "I'm sorry, Draco."

She leans forward, pressing her forehead against his, the tips of their noses just brushing as she closes her eyes and rakes in a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, darling. I should've known. I should've helped sooner."

But Draco is patient and loving and good, so much more than she deserves, so all he does is shake his head and say, quietly, "It's not your fault." Her eyes are closed and she misses the way Draco is staring at her—like he always has, like the entire sky is opening up after weeks and weeks of rain. "It's not your fault," he repeats, voice scratchy, but he finds the strength in him to lift a hand and cup the side of her jaw, thumbing at the tears that have fallen on her cheeks despite the ones on his own.

[Y/N] swallows down the lump in her throat, squeezes her eyes shut for a few more moments, then opens them again. She pulls away and moves her hands to hold his lower arm—the one with the mark—and gently, she makes Draco hold the tattoo up between the pair of them. Her breathing is still erratic, but she says, her hands cradling his arm, smoothing over his skin, "This doesn't change anything."

Draco's eyes swim with all sorts of conflicting emotions—anger and guilt and disgust and sadness—as he stares down at the mark, lips turned down into a frown.

"Draco, listen to me," she whispers, urging him to look at her. "If you think that this stupid mark makes you any less of a person, you're wrong. You are still the same boy I fell in love with. The same boy I'm still in love with, and that's not going to change, Draco, do you hear me? You're—" she pauses as a tear slips down her cheek and onto his arm, landing on the Dark Mark. "You are brave," she says, voice laced thick with emotion as her grip tightens. "And I love you."

And Draco is still scared. Still so terrified of what's to come. The mark on his wrist isn't going away—no amount of regret will ever have it fade—but sitting here, sharing the same breath as the girl who makes his heart feel like everything is going to be okay, no matter how bleak things may get, no matter how hopeless life may seem, Draco allows himself to think, even for a few, meager moments, that everything is going to be okay.

taglist: @dancing-in-the-moonlight3 @kalimagik @alittletoomanyobsessions @hariosborn @obsessedwithrandomthings @emcchi @sxrensxngwrites @enjoying-fantasyland21 @masterofthedarkness @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @bforbroadway @hufflefluff-writer @summer-writes @chaotic-fae-queen @firewhisky-kisses @dracosvftie @heloisedaphnebrightmore @idont-knowrn @dreamer821 @peachesandpinks @slytherinprincess03 @chocfrogaddict @nebulablakemurphy

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bloomyagi · 3 years

Text

bewitched (m)

summary: bakugou has always loved you.

pairings: bakugou katsuki x f!reader, hawks x f!reader (nsfw)

genre: characters are aged up, 20+, pro heroes au

warnings: allusions to cheating, angst, porn w/ lots of feelings, shower sex, kinda subby bakugou, he’s basically lovesick n soft for u, keigo is a good birdie, he would never do this irl

length: 3,518

notes: hello! my first bnha fic, please be kind <3 please let me know what you think! i’ve been so obsessed w/ jjk & bnha recently skdjkjf. send help

It comes down softly at first. The droplets whispering against windshields, ghosting across bare arms, a trick of the light. Then a pause, like the darkening clouds are reconsidering their decisions. There is no wind, no anger in the way it pelts down, darkens the concrete. Like resignation, like relief. It soaks bone, sends most civilians packing as they duck under awnings and flee into shops in anticipation of a short-lived flare.

But it is summer, and the rain is welcome as a remedy against the oppressive heat. Many onlookers merely move their belongings closer to avoid the stream, gaze out glass windows longingly. Some find inspiration, others find peace.

You stand in the middle of it all, drenched and unmoving as you watch your lover wrap his arms around his secretary, and you wonder whose mood this pathetic fallacy is expected to reflect as you look across to meet familiar eyes.

He, too, mirrors your stance. Clothes sodden, yet the nature of its designs only lends to plaster themselves closer to his skin. His irises are that bright, burning red. He is not fizzling, heated against the affair before him. Instead, his gaze is trained on you.

There is no fury, no sadness, no emptiness. His gaze is not hollow, it is instead strangely warm. Your chest squeezes, tightening in the way you experience when you read a novel laced in tragedy, that welling feeling of anguish and sorrow.

His hands are shoved in his pockets, and though his eyes remain fastened to you, he makes no step to move closer.

The sky lightens, a thin streak of sun peering through in a solitary beam. The sounds seem to press close again, like a bubble popping in your ear.

The summer storm is tempered as quickly as it appeared, the sound of life—laughter, the splashing of sneakers drowning in newly formed puddles—and the lingering smell of renewed earth and the chirping of birds as they shake off their wings to take flight.

Water drips silently down the pair of gorgeous wings before you. They flutter briefly, flicking off the thin layer that pooled on its surface, before unfurling to fold over her. He pulls her closer, separating only every so often to breathe.

Shameless, is all you think plainly. And you are—ashamed. That feeling catches you by surprise, breath caught in your throat as the feeling expands, takes root in your lungs. It is that hindsight, that disappointment—at yourself—that has you lowering your eyes.

He is still looking at you, even as someone squeals and a crowd gathers, pushing and shoving to press close, stays rooted to his spot, watching you, even as the couple finally break apart, dishevelled—she adjusts her pencil skirt, re-buttons her blouse; he runs a hand through his golden locks, fixes his half-open shirt—and Hawks’ chuckle rings across the street, one arm braced around her waist as he signs autographs and takes photos. She is glowing beside him, all smiles and shrill laughter. Her nails, perfectly manicured and sharp, digs into his chest. He doesn’t even flinch. He likes it.

You stifle a dry laugh. Turning on your heel, you disappear into the thickening crowd.

He himself is being pawed at, hands fawning at his exposed arms, clutching at him like he is fresh off the conveyer belt.

He waits until he can no longer discern your retreating figure before bearing a half-smile at the crowd. He takes the pen that is shoved into his face, and he begins signing autographs.

Time and experience have tempered his constitution. He has accepted his flaws, worked on them until he could proudly stand on the same stage as his—friends. Because that is what they are—these people that have helped him grow, comforted his trauma, stayed with him despite it all. What else could he call them but the very things they are—they are the pillar of his strength. Because of you, I learned I could be strong for the things I care about.

He is not number one. He has no need for such a title, no need for such a goal anymore. He is no longer the brash, easily angered teenager that charged for the strongest.

“I don’t care what they call me, what rank I am, or what they think of me. I only want the power to protect these people. That’s it.” He thinks back to your words.

You are not often solemn. You laughed a lot, the slow-appearing crinkles to the corner of your eyes a physical testament to your innate joy. You liked to take delight in the ordinary things. Perhaps that is what drew him to you—that strength. To shoulder the burden of your chosen role in this society, to have the bravery to smile amongst the suffering.

There was always an unbidden heat that surged in his chest when he thought of you. That odd feeling of a knot tying itself in his stomach when his skin brushed yours. When you fell from the height of a skyscraper, half-conscious from defeating a new breed of nomu, his heart stuttered and leapt in halting beats to throat as he split from his team, their screams for you ringing in his ears, the rush of badump-badump closing in rapidly, pushing his beaten body to its limits, faster, faster, faster—please! Who was he praying to at the time? He was begging anyone who was listening to give him that push—the gap was too big, you were too far, he was too tired, too useless, too broken—he slammed into you with enough force to compel blood up his throat.

He spat it to the side quickly, not bothering to wipe himself clean before he turned to you. The first thing he registered was warmth. You were limp in his hold, on the edge of passing out, exhaustion lining every curve of your face. Your lips quirked, eyes closed.

“Hurts like hell,” you slurred. “Falling from heaven.”

He stared at you, blinking the blood from his lashes.

And then he threw his back and laughed. It was a full-bodied, uproarish laughter. The type that rumbled from his chest. He shook, though he was careful not to jostle you, and you managed a quiet chuckle.

The adrenaline faded from his body, and he hiccupped as he slumped onto the concrete beam behind him. The ice receded from his veins.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he murmured. It was a quiet plea. Don’t do that ever again, is what he really wanted to say, but how could he? This was the occupational hazard of your shared line of work. This was the risk. His eyes burned, half-lidded as he held you closer.

You couldn’t lift a single limb on your body, so you lean into him.

“No promises.”

It was enough. Your voice was raspy, drained, but there was a sincere lilt to it.

He wanted to say something more, then, but first responders arrived and whisked you separate ways before he could gather his thoughts.

He regrets it, to this day. Perhaps if he had said something then, said something sooner, the scene would have played out differently.

He does not have many regrets, have long resolved to move on from his past and mistakes. “What a useless emotion,” you once told him. “Don’t wallow. Mourn and move on. Do better. That’s what you owe. That is what you are owed.”

But this—this he will always regret.

He finds you on the roof of your penthouse.

“I like it. Being able to see everything from up here.” The first time he’d peered over the edge, he’d been enlisted for furniture rearranging. You handed him a beer, beckoning him over, jerking your head to the scenery below. And it was—breathtaking. You were breathtaking. He hadn’t even bothered to entertain a cursory glance. It was summer then, too, and the evening breeze was light as it brushed your locks back. Lights began to flicker as the sun dipped lower into the horizon. He briefly considered making a similar move.

But moving was a hassle, only further proven by the efforts of today, so he dismissed the thought quickly, taking another swig. He was sweaty, a layer of grime a film over his skin from the manual labour he’d been voluntold for most of the afternoon. It was petty work compared to his—their—day job, but it was still a strangely refreshing workout.

“What are you feeling?” His steps are muted, voice faint. It carries on the back of a shallow gust.

You don’t spare him a look, staring into the distance. You’re sitting, one leg thrown casually over the ledge, the other pulled to your stomach. He’d made an off-hand comment once about adding some railings, but you’d rolled your eyes and pushed him playfully.

Pussy, you called. He chuckled. Like we don’t experience enough life-threatening dangers on a regular basis, he snarked.

All the more reason, then, you shot back. He fell silent then, the pulsing in his throat returning.

He could never really read you. Eyes are the window to the soul. He scoffs internally. Whoever said that must’ve known it was a load of bullshit. Your eyes never said anything. But his—his said everything he couldn’t, and more.

You hum. “Would it be cliché if I said I wasn’t surprised, only disappointed?”

“No.”

“Then I’m disappointed. I had hoped, I suppose, that he would choose differently.”

He tastes the words that I would be enough between, and the sigh of to change him that escapes your lips.

“You knew who he was when you went into this,” he says quietly. No judgement—he is not reminding you of your poor decisions, rather striking a conversation in the same manner one would inquire about the weather.

Quant, you think. And a few years ago, you would have added out of character. But now it is not so—he has grown into himself well.

You tilt your head back. He leans against the wall, arms crossed across that well-built chest of his, shirt straining against the muscle. He’s so tall now—so much taller than anyone had expected him to be. That wild, unruly blond hair of his has remained the same, appearing spiky but soft to the touch. And his eyes—they are gentle but retain the ferocity he is well-known for.

“Yes,” you say after a while. “That is why I am not surprised. But these feelings won’t just disappear overnight because of this.”

He’s quiet for a while, those crimson orbs of his trailing over your expression. You don’t know what he finds, but he must understand your position because he nods.

“I’ll wait for you.”

This—this is a surprise. Somehow, he always manages to surprise you.

“After all this time?” You ask softly.

“Always,” he says quietly.

He leaves, and when you return to the house, you pick up the keys he left on your counter. Twirling them on one finger, you smile to yourself.

Thank you. You know he knows.

“I tried to be the person you wanted me to be,” he says.

“I tried, I really did. But this is who I am, who they made me. I can’t change. I’m sorry,” he says.

He says a lot more, you think, but you’ve long since stopped listening. He knows these are only flimsy barriers that excuse his behaviour. He knows he is not this person. He is not broken, he is worthy of much, much more. He just needs to believe it. They took everything from him. That is what he thinks, how he lives. Like he has no real purpose.

Instead, he is stopped, wings flaring as you reach for him. You smell familiar, and that ache in his heart deepens. He will forever regret losing you, but you deserve more. He is not good for you, and he is not your responsibility. His growth is his obligation. Perhaps, when he is ready, he will find you again.

But by then, he thinks, burying his face into your shoulder, you will have already chosen differently.

“I love you, baby bird. I will always love you,” he presses these words against your neck in a soft whisper, voice cracking, like a prayer, he tries to sear his truth into your skin. He tastes salt on his tongue.

And, between it all, he traces I’m sorry.

You squeeze him once.

You know.

“Hey.”

You’re uncharacteristically shy, cheeks puffing in that sweet smile of yours.

That sharp, familiar warmth blooms in his chest at the sight of you perched on the arm of his leather couch. You look comfortable, relaxed, like you—belonged here, his mind supplies helpfully.

He steps out of his boots, unbuckling his support items and setting them on the counter to clean later. He’s a little worse for wear tonight, shoulders tight from chasing rogue villains the past few hours. The tension seeps away steadily, though, the longer he drinks you in.

You look good. You always look good. Gorgeous, even more so when you’re tired and dirty, covered in blood and dust and debris. It’s been so long since you patrolled together, pulled to opposite ends of the city the past few months.

“Hey,” he says back.

“Shower?” You take his hand.

He trails behind you, nearly tripping over in his haste to follow, failing to register your words in time. This must be a dream, he decides. And he will play along, as he always does in these fits of delirium. He will hold you and have you and love you in ways he cannot begin to describe, and then he will lose you as dawn breaks and he wakes to an empty bed. But he falls anyway, does it over and over until he feels like he will go insane from the sheer longing. He is addicted to you.

You haven’t spoken, not really, since that night on the rooftop. So you, being here, without any prior warning, touching him, smiling at him, leading him to his fucking shower—this must be a dream, right?

You push open the door to his bathroom. It’s big, he’s always been meticulous about his health, and enjoys his fair share of long soaks and hot showers.

He realizes a beat too late that you’re undressing him. He exhales sharply when you tug his shirt off, but before he could say anything, you murmur, “You smell like caramel. You always do. It’s just a little stronger than usual.”

“Oh.” He sounds a little breathless, a little strangled. Unlike him, but he has never really been anything but himself with you. He’s still discovering new sides to himself, it seems.

Oddly enough, he’s the farthest thing from embarrassed as he steps out of his pants and boxers. He’s flushed, but the heat that floods his veins is nothing short of delicious. It makes his head spin, makes him lean into your touch.

You strip quickly, tossing your costume fabric aside his for laundry. He sucks in an audible breath at the sight of your nude body. Beautiful, he wants to say, but the words are stuck in his throat, and he reaches out with a shaky hand to thumb the smear of grease on your cheek.

You smile, pushing open the frosted glass doors and pull him inside.

The temperature is perfect. He likes it hot on days like today, muscles relaxing as the water washes away his fatigue.

“You know me so well,” he says.

You push him under the stream, water cascading between the two of you. His locks flatten under the pressure, falling over his eyes. You run a hand through his hair, pushing it back as you press yourself flush against him.

“Yes,” you answer. “I do.”

And then you kiss him. A low purring echoes through the space. Ah, it’s me, some part of him thinks absently. He opens his mouth instantly, tongue lapping at yours, arms coming around to hold you close. He can distinctly feel the way your perked nipples rub against his pectorals. He can taste you. And you are sweet, so sweet and the lewd sounds of your make out reverberating in the room so vividly he knows this is not, in fact, a mere conjuration of imagination after all.

He loathes to part from you, but he does. His fingers dig into your waist, anchoring him to reality. He looks at you searchingly, beseechingly. If you are here, you can only be here for one reason.

“I’m sorry I took so long. I’m sorry, I know it must’ve been painful. I’m here now, I promise I’ll never leave again,” you say, cupping his cheek.

His breath catches. His eyes flutter shut.

“You promise?” He sounds so small, so weak. Vulnerable. He would’ve hated that, once, but he is no longer that person. Today, he can accept he is weak for you. Always has been. And that’s okay, he thinks. He doesn’t have to be strong all the time.

“Yes. I promise, Katsuki.” You press your forehead against him, standing on your tippy toes.

He kisses you again, swallows your dreamy sigh, one hand on the back of your head, the other crushing your body against his. He wants you close, needs you close. Needs to feel you, this is real, right?

“Yes,” you whisper, and he realizes belatedly that he spoke aloud. “This is real. I’m here. I’m right in front of you.” You take his hand and press it against your upper rib cage, where your heart beats. Fast, like the wings of a hummingbird.

He can’t help it. He takes you against the wall, so pent up from years of pining he can hardly think, rutting into you like a teenager in heat, feeling like he’s a virgin again, every trace of your skin so new, he maps them out first with his eyes, then his hands and mouth. He slows down when you call his name in a haze of pleasure, takes the time to worship you, find what makes you tick, watches your expression raptly as he rolls his hips, as he tweaks your nipples, palms your ass, litters a necklace of freshly bloomed violets on your collarbone.

He’s panting your name, you’re murmuring praises in his ear, tugging at his locks and biting down on his shoulder and he cums so hard his vision whitens.

The two of you slide down, his legs giving out in the aftershocks, until he’s sitting on the floor of his shower and you’re curled up on his lap.

The water is—miraculously—still hot.

You lay there for a while, and he catches his breath between lazy kisses, enjoying the way your hands roam his chest languidly.

Finally, he stands, letting you down reluctantly to actually clean yourselves. You giggle at the pout that forms when your feet touch the ground once more.

You wash his hair, massaging methodically as he dips his head back to let the foam drain. He takes great pleasure in this, at the way you spread a generous amount of body wash on your palms and begin scrubbing the grime from his skin.

He jolts forward, letting out a low groan as you squeeze his flaccid cock teasingly. He glances away, eyes half-lidded, at the heated look you give him when his cock hardens immediately.

“You underestimate how easily you turn me on,” he says plainly. Not a hint of embarrassment. And why should he be? You kiss the corner of his mouth. “I love it,” you murmur.

You rinse him off before turning. His length presses against your ass, but he makes no move to seek anything further, focused on washing you.

Satisfied, he turns off the water.

You step out, toweling each other off. He pulls you to him, inhaling deeply. He likes that you smell like him now.

Afterwards, you are tucked in close, covers pulled up and he’s buried his face in your chest, bare legs tangled.

Perhaps it’s the novelty, the feeling of finally, but you can’t get enough of one another. You wake each other multiple times throughout the night, clawing at each other, ripping his boxers and your—his—shirt from each other until you were pressed tightly together, bare, a thin sheen of sweet already coating your bodies.

A thin strip of moonlight peeks through the cream curtains. He gazes up at you, thinks everything in his life has been leading up to this moment. That warmth swelling again, as it always does, so intense it has him arching his back. You touch his cheek, smiling. Something lands on the side of his pillow. Ah. You lean down, lips warm as they kiss away his tears.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He closes his eyes.

Thank you.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #bakugo smut #hawks smut #bakugo x you #hawks x you #bakugou x reader

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slytherwrites · 3 years

Text

A Weaker Version of Themselves

Warnings: Yandere Content

Characters: All Might, Aizawa, Present Mic, Aoyama, Shoji, Shoto, Tooru, Bakugou, Midoriya, Momo, and Shinsou

They don’t look at you and see your strengths. No, they look at you and see their own pitfalls. It’s projection, plain and simple.

All Might - Yagi Toshinori

You’re an underground hero. You try to save as many people as you can, which is very noble of you! Though, there’s a villain you can’t beat. There’s an injury you can’t bounce back from. That’s okay! Not everyone can be just like the Number One Hero, All Might.

He’ll take you to his home. It’s nice and grand, nothing like you could afford working underground. But that’s okay, he can support you! Being the Number One Hero has its perks. And he’ll let you roam on the property and do what you want as long as you don’t leave. He knows that you have to be preoccupied here while you rest and recover. And maybe, if you like it so much, you’ll stay here afterwards.

Toshinori knows that you want to save more people but you’ve saved enough. You’re not expected to save everyone like he is. You’re not expected to be there for everyone like he is. Just stay right there for him—that would be enough.

Eraserhead - Aizawa Shouta

He met you when you both were in the U.A. General Studies Course.

Of course, then he was focused on becoming a hero. You were too, but he was more determined than you and U.A. only let one person move onto the Hero Studies course. He took your spot, which led you on the road to dead-end after dead-in job.

But that’s okay! Aizawa knows that there is more to life than working. That work is just to supplement the little things in life—like the little pussycat that works at his favorite cat cafe.

He watches you like he would watch a villain. But there’s nothing villainous about you. You’re entirely virtuous and charitable, despite your slightly off-putting quirk and personality. But that’s nothing that Aizawa doesn’t understand. He understands you; he was almost you. And that’s why he must give you something better. Because he feels guilt in knowing that he made you this way, he fixes it in his own special way.

Sure, that’s by handcuffing you to his bed in the cat lingerie that he so desperately wanted to see you in, but being with him can be the little thing you look forward to. Being with him can be the only thing you ever need.

Present Mic - Hizashi Yamada

You’re so studious. People take you seriously. It’s probably why you’re such a well-renowned figure in your field. You’re no-nonsense and dependable, the things people wanted from the carefree man all of his life.

And seeing you let loose makes him go wild.

Sure, Hizashi likes how you are when you’re just how people wanted him to be, but when you finally shed that laer and reveal your true nature… man, he goes feral. It unlocks something they didn’t know they needed. It stems from a need to have everyone be their true selves with him. Because you’re truly what the carefree guy thinks everyone is. And that my friend, is what he craves from you. Because despite what he shows, Hizashi Yamada isn’t that happy all the time. He’s had people leave him and use him and tear him down. But you, you are who he acts like to the public. Only for you, it’s not an act.

And sure, he wished you’d show that fun side more often, but he knows how important masks are to people like you two.

Yuga Aoyama

You’re a fellow hero student. Maybe in the classes above, maybe replacing one of the known 40 students in his hero class (other than his fabulousness, Aoyama of course)! No matter how you got into the hero course, that’s where you meet the ever sparkling boy.

You give him attention. Out of everyone you could befriend, you choose him. Of course he knew you would, he’d never admit to otherwise.

Though, he can’t help but envy the sheer amount of people wanting your attention. Aoyama wants you to focus on him. He wants your attention to be on him as he is on you. So many people take up your time and he just greedily wants it all.

It totally doesn’t span from the lack of attention he got as a child. He’d brush off any accusation. But inside, he whimpers. He’s cracking and your attention is the superglue that holds him together.

Please don’t let him fall apart.

Mezo Shoji - Tentacole

You’re normal. You don’t have to hide. You aren’t filled with mutations that would scare children and get you discriminated against.

Sure, he’s sweet and powerful and considerate, but nobody gives him a chance. He’s just so scary looking, being a hulking mutant. And that’s why he hides. But you, you don’t have to hide. You can go about and be normal. Nobody cares about your imperfections and flaws (even if Shoji is convinced you have none).

And even though society says you’re better than a mutant like him, you don’t discriminate against him. You don’t find him scary. In fact, you’re friends with him and he feels like he has to protect his only supporter, just so he can find it in him to continue this difficult path in life.

Shoto Todoroki

You aren’t burdened by heroics and villainy. You aren’t burdened with a ripped apart family. You aren’t burdened with trauma. You’re normal, plain and simple. And that’s what catches his attention. You are a part of the picture perfect family he hopes to achieve.

And that’s why he takes you.

You’re what he wants out of life. You know how to keep a home that is stable and loving and together. You know how to live a normal lifestyle and you’re going to be the stable force that keeps him together. You’re going to be his love and motivation and muse and you’re nobility in his eyes.

He can’t take his eyes off of you. He can’t take his hands off of you. He can’t get enough of you.

Tooru Hagakure - Invisigirl

She’s invisible. It’s literally in the name of her hero alias. BUt you’re not. Oh no, you could never be invisible. With how much you stand out and shine, you could never be invisible.

And Tooru likes it that way. She likes the attention you get. She just wants your attention to herself. Is that too much to ask?

You can get attention from anyone you need it from but your attention must be hers. She must grab your attention. She must be the person you turn to. Make her not feel invisible. Make her feel like a valued person to you. That’s all she asks for.

Katsuki Bakugou - Dynamight

You’re so nice.

That’s it. You’re nice and pretty and friendly and everything he isn’t.

Bakugou Katsuki is rough around the edges and is filled with crude and crass language. He pushes people away and hurts whoever he can. But you don’t care. You’re nice and pretty, friendly and easy to look at. Oh so agreeable and helpful and everything encompassing an angel like yourself.

And allowing yourself up to the harsh boy is what made you pass the point of no return. Sure, you were probably just going to him for help studying or training advice, but in his mind, you came to him because you needed him. You! The one person who’s so put together that it hurts needed him to help them.

And that’s when Bakugou Katsuki swore to protect you with all of his might. Sure, it might not be well received, but he doesn’t give a damn about that. All he cares about is you.

Izuku Midoriya - Deku

You’re still quirkless. And yet, you live and thrive without anyone else.

He finds that admirable. He finds you admirable. He couldn’t be like you. In another life maybe, but he had no prospects being quirkless. But yet, here you are, living your life while being quirkless.

And sure, you might face a little harassment, but it's over before you know it. Because Izuku got rid of that little hindrance. He wants you to thrive, to succeed. He has to help you because you can’t help yourself.

In return, he just wants a little affection. Then a little more. Because he would’ve given anything for someone to help when he was quirkless and it’s what he’s owed, for being your own, personal hero.

Momo Yaoyorozu - Creati

Momo Yaoyorozu found you to be someone she could help. Poor, unintelligent, lacking—she saw you as lacking.

Though, Momo would never tell you that. She’d just help out any way she can. Sneakily at first, until it was overt in her help. Momo needed to feel needed and you were the perfect receptacle of her desire.

And it’s not like she treats you terribly. Oh no! You’re treated like a precious doll or a famous piece of art. You need to be kept in a meticulous environment and untouched by those who are unworthy.

Don’t worry, Momo will protect you.

Hitoshi Shinsou

You were quirkless. And that meant that you didn’t get the intense bullying that he got for his villainous quirk. You were still bullied, but he could keep them away from you. He could be your hero.

And that’s all it took. You were the perfect vessel for his unhealthy attraction. And, best of all, you seemed to enjoy it. Thankful for his protection. School’s already rough, but because of him, it’s all better.

All he wants in return is your praise and adoration. He’s saving you. He’s your hero. He needs you to need him, just like he needed someone when he was in your situation.

#mha x reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha

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class1akids · 3 years

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I disagree with the anon who Shoto is weak. I personally think he's way too op but he still hasn't seen or understood the full potential of his quirk and chances are that Horikoshi won't allow him to do so. He can be the number one hero if he wants but he is (and I might be going way too far with this but) in a way a parallel to Hawks and I think he'll become like Hawks, the I don't care just let me do whatever I want I don't want responsibility but I can handle it because I'm a fucking prodigy kind of hero. He doesn't really have ambition that can compare to the others, he not too determined and he's a go with the flow person. And that's one of his fatal flaws. His lack of ambition and charisma is the reason he will never be number one hero even if you offer it to him on a silver platter because he will decline that offer no matter what.

Todoroki suffers from a form of complex PTSD and that's something that often goes overlooked. I think being number one is a trigger for him, something that reminds him of one of the darkest times in his life. In my opinion Horikoshi really fucked up his character his backstory was good and could've actually been something holding him back but then Izuku just says, "your power, don't be enji, okay vibe check done, ptsd gone" and BOOM he's suddenly a different character. Horikoshi could've made his growth more gradual while making this moment a sort of turning point. A few inspirational words doesn't just get rid of a trigger (his fire side), it's usually a gradual change of slowly letting go (I speak from experience sadly) of the memories of abuse.

Todoroki's attitude towards his father changing was rushed and we didn't really get to see the full potential of this character who was going through so much. Instead Horikoshi decided to just make it all happen off-screen.

....I just realised that I went from talking about Shoto's quirk to his trauma like it was nothing-

I agree that Shouto doesn’t know how to reach for the No. 1. spot, but I don’t see that as a bad thing, because I don’t see the No. 1. ranking = strongest person.

The ranking board is one of the worst parts of hero society. It tells us that the value of lives can be measured like commodity. That someone who arrest 10 smallfry villains is as strong as someone who rescues an abused kid - because they are all just an “incident”. Of course, you get no points for taking a small, traumatized Tenko to a shelter, because there is nothing flashy about that.

Shouto’s entire family was destroyed in pursuit of that No. 1. spot, and Endeavor reaching that goal doesn’t make him overall a better hero than let’s say Aizawa, who probably was never even a blip in the ranking board - it just shows that none of it was worth it.

Yes, there are lots of parallels between Hawks and Shouto, for very good reasons, but them being ambitionless or weak or whatever is not one. It’s just Shouto has to find his own ambition that looks different from his father’s ambition for him. Endeavor wanted him to be strong to be No 1 and beat All Might, Shouto wants to be strong so he can stand with his friends and not be the weak link and to be able to bring reassurance to people. The motivation is different, but wanting to be strong to help others is not a lack of ambition.

Same with Hawks, who after being used his whole life by the HPSC, he has to find his own motivation and he wants to be a good person who is willing to put everything on the line for his friends. I think the fact that Hawks didn’t kick Endeavor off the leaderboard after the war is not because he doesn’t want the responsibility or his running away - he’s very clearly calling the shots now. He offered to stand with Endeavor because he cares about him and wants to help him. It’s as simple as that.

As for Shouto’s trauma, no he didn’t get magically cured by Deku. It’s a pretty slow process (much slower than let’s say Deku learning all his extra quirks) actually and his complex PTSD keeps biting Shouto in the ass every step of the way:

losing the final

he pushes through to go try to learn from Endeavor

He tries to push it away, it comes back in the Licensing Exam, when it’s pretty much shown that he can’t become a hero until he overcomes that

He struggles with showing who he is to the kids at the Remedial class in positive terms

He has to watch an reconcile the fact that despite everything he cares if Endeavor lives or dies

But that doesn’t mean he can just forgive

His trauma comes back in flashbacks in the middle of a training fight

And has to swallow that Endeavor was right - he can go higher and stronger so he needs to find the motivation to do exactly what Endeavor wanted him to do...

And just when things feel like they are on track, Touya appears - and crashes down everything again - with point-blank hatred for Shouto

That sends Shouto into a whole new round of self-reflection

To me it’s very clear that Shouto’s motivation and his healing from trauma go hand in hand. The friendships he makes is his motivator and source of strength, together with his love for his family, and not the leaderboard. But I think having that as a push doesn’t make him weaker, but rather stronger.

I don’t see him as a go-with-the-flow character, but much more someone who struggles a lot with identity, with the fact that his path to strength is to become more and more like Endeavor - the same moves, the same equipment, when all he wants to do is not be like him. And that he has to reconcile these things.

#bnha meta #todoroki shouto #hawks #Shouto Hawks parallels #shouto's healing process is pretty gradual

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miraculouslycool · 3 years

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Hi! I read your analysis on how Lila's Adrien's black mirror (absolutely wonderful, btw), and I was wondering if you had any thoughts on why the writers are making Lila Marinette's arch-rival instead of Adrien despite that? Maybe I'm being too simple-minded, but considering everything Marinette already goes through in terms of enemies and responsibilities, I really don't get why they had to add Lila to the mix where she could've been Adrien's foil all along. I mean, I personally see it as a bit stupid of Lila to be fixated on him when she knows he's aware that she's a liar. Given how proud she is, you would expect her to have moved on from him already... Or is there something I'm missing?

Thank you in advance!

Hi! Thank you for asking, this is a very good question.

(DISCLAIMER: I love this show deeply and respect the decisions of the writers, even if there are a few I don't agree with)

First off, I'd like to say that it makes sense as to why Marinette and Lila dislike each other.

Lila cause Marinette has the respect and attention of the entire class and her peers with little to no effort, and all of that is not because of Marinette's impressive accomplishments, but because she is a good and kind person who loves her friends and would drop anything at the second of a hat to help them. Lila wants the attention that Marinette gets geared to her, but she does none of the work to maintain and stabilize it enough to be RESPECTED.

(Full disclosure, there's a difference between being popular and being respected. Lila doesn't understand the difference between these two. Not like Marinette does.)

She hates that Marinette, on both sides of the mask, had the guts to call her out on her lies, which is pretty telling that a strong outburst is what made her hate both the classmate Marinette, and the superhero Ladybug. There was no one in her life who could see past her facade before Marinette did.

Marinette is an upstanding and forthright person. She doesn't like lying, and the only non-white lies she tells (her being Ladybug and hiding her feelings from Adrien) are only for the greater good and in a manner of self preservation, not to hurt anyone. Marinette would never lie to harm someone intentionally. That's not who she is.

That being said, it's interesting how Marinette's jealous streak is what alerted her to Lila in the first place.

It's the same jealous streak that made Marinette antagonise Kagami too. Except, once Marinette got to know that Kagami is truly a good person, she felt terrible about treating her the way she did. She fought to make amends for her mistake, and started seeing Kagami as a person, and not a problem to be solved. (This is definitely a character flaw of Marinette's, and one that she has mostly gotten over by the end of Season 3.)

On the other hand, I believe that any reason for Marinette to get jealous of Lila over Adrien ended with the episode Volpina Chameleon.

Specifically, the moment when Adrien told her antagonizing Lila wasn't worth it. Until then she was specifically pissed at Lila getting to sit next to Adrien, Lila being close to Adrien, Lila taking Adrien away from her. It wasn't until Adrien helped her see the bigger picture, that Lila didn't have to be as larger-than-life as she seemed that she understood.

As SOME people seem to forget, Marinette was not angry with Adrien for saying that. One person being on her side was enough for her. That companionship from ADRIEN of all people meant more to her than her irrational jealousy over him.

That's what separates Marinette from Lila. No, they don't come from similar backgrounds, their personalities, quirks and traits are NOTHING alike (not even a little similar like Adrien is to Lila).

Marinette is capable of stepping back and analyzing her less than stellar moments and doing better, even at her own expense. Lila, at all times, is only upset at getting caught.

This is why I understand, that even with Adrien out of the picture, why these two girls are arch-rivals.

But the show has made it abundantly clear that Marinette's more outright methods that would work on any sandbox bully does not work on Lila. It's not Marinette who got her to back off from herself without lifting a finger at the end of Onichan. It's not ONLY Marinette who saved Ladybug in that same episode by using Lila to lure Onichan away. It's not Marinette who threatened Lila in the most calm way possible, sacrificing any bit of privacy she might have, to get herself back in school.

That's all Adrien. Even with Gabriel pulling the strings, its Adrien who can give her a run for her money. Why? Because they both share similar traits of deception and manipulation, something that Marinette is not capable of. (Cleverness and Manipulation do not fall under the same category) To defeat one's enemies, one must think like them. Marinette doesn't have to, or even want to be duplicitous like Lila does, but Adrien does that every single day of his double life as civilian and superhero.

Marinette and Lila may be enemies and rivals, but its Adrien who is on equal fighting ground with her. The thing is, Adrien does not actively wish to involve himself like Marinette does. (and that's not a bad thing!) I see why both of them did what they did, but if Adrien chose to antagonise Lila from the beginning, the way Marinette did? We might have some very different results today.

As for the second part of your question, why did Lila not drop Adrien once she saw that he knew she was a liar?

Because she underestimated him. Adrien wasn't antagonizing her like Marinette was. Adrien was being gentle with her. Adrien didn't expose her even though he knew. All Lila saw in him was a gateway to the fame and charisma she deeply desired, and I bet if someone more famous than Adrien was in the class (other than Chloe that is, cause she is famous, not desirable) Lila would have gone after them.

In Volpina, she saw a kind hearted, gullible boy who happened to be handsome and famous believe every single word out of her mouth. Chameleon onwards, she knew he knew, but she was careful enough to treat him like a trophy on her shelf, being careful to not feed him information like she did in Volpina.

She severely underestimated him all the way up to "Ladybug", because she had gotten too complacent and didn't think that Adrien would actually defend Marinette's side, because from her point of view, he hasn't done that before.

I'm pretty sure Lila would have dropped him the minute he told her off the first time, if Gabriel hadn't called her up in Oni Chan and offered her more avenues to use Adrien to her own benefit.

(That's why she's still able to sidle up to him in the New York special even after Adrien told her off. Because Gabriel is enabling her and pulling her strings.)

I hope this helped you!

#miraculous ladybug #adrien #marinette #lila #ml meta

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mikaze-discord · 3 years

Text

Quartet Night: Love letters

Annnnnd these are the love letters written for Quartet Night!!!

Please enjoy under the cut~

REIJI KOTOBUKI

From Anon:

I've always been drawn to characters with complex (and fairly dark) personalities, so liking Rei-chan was honestly inevitable for me.

He looks like a very bright and cheerful character at first, which he is, but sometimes that part of him is a little misleading because, in actuality, he's a character that holds a lot of negative feelings about himself due to a past that he can't seem to move on from. He holds a lot of those feelings to himself because he doesn't want to burden anyone else with them. He's a reliable, cunning, and ultimately selfless character that chooses to shoulder a lot on his own out of his infinite care for others, and perhaps a secret sense of atonement, all hidden behind his bright demeanor and goofy smile, and it's endlessly interesting to me.

Besides the duality of his personality, he has a lot of other endearing quirks to love about him. He loves his mom a lot and is a mama's boy. His old-man jargon and catchphrases never fail to amuse (I still can't get over the way he says "my girl"). His obsession with anything even remotely British is something my APH England phase can relate to. His style of music brings a lot of pleasant feelings of nostalgia for me, and his pretty voice suits them a lot. And most of all he's just a very good boy overall. I rate 99999 out of 10 would love and support him and also maybe pay for his therapy because god knows he needs it. Happy anniversary!!

From another anon:

Would you like to hear a story? You do? Very well then, may this story be one you enjoy.

What do I like about Reiji kotobuki? A Lot of things actually!

Well, I've always really liked Reiji as a character as he seemed to be one of the more interesting characters to me, due to how complex he is with his backstory and general just personality.

I have always really enjoyed how Reiji just solves problems too? Like he is just such an outgoing person who deserves all the support!!!

Like the best word I can use for Reiji is just, unique. Everything about him is just so Reiji. From the way he talks, to his nicknames or even his texting style. Like have you seen how many people use emoticons when texting as Reiji? It's just so him.

I like his way of thinking too! I feel like some of the interactions in the games are just so interesting, just seeing Reiji’s point of view. How he deals with a sort of survivor’s guilt and all of that.

Personally, some of my most memorable roleplaying moments were watching a Reiji rper in action, like just seeing them interact and flow so seamlessly with the other characters was just so fascinating to wee baby rper me. Such a large part of playing Reiji is just how you flow with the people around you and comedic timing. I have so many funny moments where Reiji was just interacting with people and it was just so inspirational (?) like I couldn't stop the smile on my face. I had learnt alot from them. I still consider them my roleplaying senpai almost! I don't talk to them anymore but I really had an amazing time just seeing their spin on the character.

I don't find him to be a romantic partner towards me nor do I see any of the characters in that light, but I've always found Reiji as such a personal character. Not even just towards me, like even with other utapri stans. The most relatable character always seems to be Reiji.

I've always been pretty similar in many aspects to him and I often find myself relating to him in numerous ways like his vibe is just relatable! I have often found myself trying to make other people laugh and have fun that many times I'm spreading myself thin and feel unappreciated...Reiji really helped with that.

This is where i start getting into the really personal stuff LOL feel free to skip if you dont wanna hear the angsty backstory.

I had really come to love Reiji when I had just...hit a low. I had a group of friends who I enjoyed hanging out with and just talking to, but they weren't very good friends per say. I often had to schedule every activity we did and I spent days and nights trying to think of concepts that might be fun. They took it for granted.. I had spent 4 months trying to make a game for them, and they had constantly pushed back times that we would play it. Using excuses to not play it, without telling me out right what they did not like or even why. The site I used was later taken down without notice and thus I had lost all my progress. Later, they had mentioned how they would like to play it except that later ended up being two years later. I really wish I could've solved things with that friend group like Quartet Night did but that didn't happen. That is when I started seeing things Reiji’s way? Not to say that it was the same or similar scenario to Reiji but I had just associated it with him.

RANMARU KUROSAKI

From Anon:

Ran is such a fun character! He sounds like a "rough outside, soft inside" kind of character, but his roughness is more like an integral part of him and it's through it that he shows he cares rather than setting it aside. That's what made me want to rp him. I also like how he is such a strong guy who's always determined to do his best in everything he does despite so much having gone wrong in his past. And it's very satisfying to see him form bonds and start to trust people.

From @mikaze-san:

Originally, my favourite Utapri boy was Ai, and it had been the robot boy for several years upon entering the fandom. In fact, it only switched to Ranmaru sometime late last year but regardless, I would still die for this man. Part of the reason why I switched is because I’ve always been a fan of Suzuki Tatsuhisa and I have a huge bias towards any man who wears nail polish without fearing being “feminine” because fuck gender roles.

As someone who studies fashion, I think Ranmaru is very coordinated and confident when it comes to portraying himself that way. He knows he’s not very good at expressing his emotions and utilises his passion for rock and playing the bass to portray those feelings through his songs. It’s also incredibly inspiring to know that he bounces back from pretty much anything considering his backstory and the stuff he deals with in the game/anime.

But my main reason for loving Ranmaru so much stems from the fact that I admire him a lot and want to be more like him. For a long time last year, I got to roleplay as Ranmaru in a few Utapri groups and through those experiences, I gained a better understanding and appreciation of the characters that I wrote for. In some weird way, by highlighting his flaws, character progression and how he dealt with different emotions, I ended up providing insight into how I dealt with similar issues by looking at them from a 3rd person perspective.

I used to be very shy and was very shut off from friends and family, and due to this I’ve always admired people in my life or fictional characters that are so confident in being who they are. Ranmaru particularly struck that chord in me because his bluntness knows no end. He’s very opinionated and doesn’t fear confrontation, in most cases being the one to provoke it. He speaks his mind openly without being overly anxious of the consequences. This is something that I feel is especially relevant today with being your authentic/unapologetic self is such a trend.

It’s something I’ve also noticed with having met people in or outside of this fandom, the notion of idolising a fictional character containing traits that we want to see in ourselves. Which made me think about a lot of my favourite kinds of characters which at the end of the day all boil down to sharing one similar trait: Being a bitch.

And in Utapri, Ranmaru embodies that. So naturally it’s very easy for me to idolise him.

(Tldr: I like his bitchy attitude.)

AI MIKAZE

From Arashi:

It's hard to put into words why I love Ai Mikaze, perhaps it's because I'm subconsciously drawn to him, maybe it's because his hair and eyes are my favorite color, maybe it's because his voice is that of an angels, there are many reasons why I love him. I couldn't tell you a definite, "These one or two reasons are the entire reason I love him", but I'll try to sum it up.

I grew to love him by admiring his personality, his smile, his determination to reach his goals, everything about him made me happy. He's strict and a little scary at times, but when he sees people caring for him, he becomes happy and in a way, sentimental. He's not sure how to explain the way he feels, but he tries. I think I admire how he holds all the little things precious to his heart as he learns about them, and he wants to understand how to care for others and how they care for them in return. Even after six years, he still remains the most dear to me. I think that he now has a sentimental value to me, because even if I 'loved' another character more for a while, I will always come back to Ai. Ai deserves the world, and I'd give it to him if I could. He'll always be special to me, and I think that he very much deserves that.

From Maronda:

My love for Ai started after I found Shining Live by chance and started to play. At first I wasn't particularly attached to any of the characters and decided to go back and watch the anime to maybe remember some context other than who Starish was. When I got to the episode focused on Ai and his "secret" I was absolutely thrown off by it all. I ended up feeling like I had so many questions and I knew that the anime would give me little to no answers, so I frequently turned to rambling on the internet about it. Eventually, this fixation on weird things about him seemed to turn into a clear fondness for him, and friends made me realize just how much I liked him. Knowing the cold and often strange aspects of his personality was due to something out of his control was something I resonated with as someone on the autism spectrum. He reminded me of some of the ways I used to think and behave.

I also began to notice other things I loved about him. Things like how soothing I found his voice, the pleasant shade of light blue in his hair and eyes, how ridiculously pretty he is... but the best things are the endearing parts of his personality. Though he's somewhat harsh, he's still entirely genuine. His curiosity is absolutely precious and his occasional awkwardness in expressing emotion or understanding the emotions of others made me empathize with him. And if you look at the Ai in Shining Live and compare it to the Ai in the anime and games... he really has changed a lot and grown as a person. He now seems so much gentler and understanding, and he clearly values the friendships he has now too! I think he's a wonderful character and ever since friends of mine encouraged me to selfship I've essentially been in love with him, but it also makes me happy to see other people appreciate him for other reasons as well. He's just so lovable!

CAMUS

From @uta-no-fakku-sama:

At the very beginning of my UtaPri interest, Camus never really caught my attention. That is until he became my first My Only Prince UR. I’ve come to appreciate him a lot more ever since, and now he’s become my favorite QUARTET NIGHT member! Along the way, I learned more about him and realized he’s one of the more complicated characters to understand. Nonetheless, I absolutely adore him. I tend to tease and make fun of him a lot, but deep down I truly do like him a whole bunch!

From @/waddamaloooon on twt:

A little Camus appreciation post

(alternatively known as; how this guy managed to harshly take my heart and step on it like the gumin I am.)

Hello, this is Suikamaru, here to share a tiny story of why I, and eventually you, love Camus Rondo Cryzard.

At first glance, his looks appealed to me, but not his behavior (and ironically enough, his voice) so I didn't bat an eye on him. I've always been on a neutral leaning to dislike opinion on Camus, which is quite understandable because have you SEEN the way he acts. Unfathomable.

…..To a Young Suikamaru, that is.

I've grown, so naturally I've changed preferences regarding characters, ikemen, and who to stan and who to avoid like the plague. I will lie if I said that I expected to like that blonde confectionery devouring machine at any point of my life.

But it did happen so who are we fooling here.

It dawned on me that Camus is the type of character that you cannot appreciate unless you go in depth into his lore, backstory, and see him for who he really is. Because then everything else will make sense. And that never happened in my case until I started roleplaying as him.

I realized that he's not just a two faced, sweet toothed mean man. He's a perfectionist, someone who's always been raised since his childhood days to be nothing less than complete, who has locked on his heart and emotions to devote himself completely to the purpose given to him. He has the looks and brains for what though? He should be a little stupid honestly.

But his intelligence gave him the complexity that he just needed for his characteristics. Because as aforementioned, he's not someone to easily like or fall in love with. And I think that's quite rare in characters, and very much appreciated due to the fact it gives the fans a chance to not actually stay on a flat level of knowledge regarding their favorite characters.

I've slowly started to see myself in some aspects of him, which was the number one factor of liking him. Then came the Maeno magic when I realized Camus shares the same VA as another character that I love as well. (Hamelin, from SinoAlice.) From then, everything went downhill.

In a good way. I think..

Well, that is all from me, please read about this handsome man and appreciate his hard work both as an individual and as an idol. There is SO much to him that's p much overlooked and I'm getting broke from spending my money on his living expenses rent free in my head. Take him off my head.

#utapri #utanoprincesama #uta no prince sama #Reiji kotobuki #Kotobuki reiji #Ranmaru kurosaki #utapri camus #ai mikaze #mikaze ai #quartet night

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asphora · 4 years

Text

Marigolds | csc

wc: 5,569 | angst, hanahaki disease, seungcheol x reader, f!reader, non-idol!verse, cursing, character death, tw:sickness, tw:death

a/n: I’ve been in a slump and in a really bad place recently, but out of nowhere this came to me and somehow writing it made me feel better? idk. Also, I recommend listening to Yiruma’s Prelude in Gm. It’s such a beautiful piece. Anyway, thank you.

Love can often look like so many things that don’t seem like love.

The night the world stops spinning is the night you see her for the first time. You’d known of her existence long before you’d even had the misfortune of laying your eyes on her, from stories and various retellings enthusiastically recounted to you by your group of 13 male friends. Their words had made her something of a phantasmagoric collection of enchanting and enigmatic quirks and traits, something otherworldly; brave and spontaneous, fun but equally intelligent. But for all their praise, you figured their words were just that.

Nodding along as Seungcheol prattled on about her ardently, you silently listened, finding some semblance of solace knowing that there was no person without flaws. To you, she seemed more like a Monet than anything; something beautiful to behold, but only from a distance. The closer anyone got, surely the more the cracks would start to show and for all her magic and mystery, you figured soon enough the boys, particularly Seungcheol, would soon realize the truth: that there was no such thing as magic. Only real people, with their flaws and undone seams, haphazardly strewn together.

That night the music blared in your ears, despite coming from the next room where Soonyoung was drunkenly DJing. Around you were throngs of people, a mix of strangers and friends alike, bodies danced intoxicatedly moving to the beat reverberating through the walls of the frat-house.

When you see him, you can’t fight the smile that spreads on your lips. Your hand is already raised, ready to wave him down and wrap him in the embrace you two always shared. You don’t know it yet, but that night is different from all the others; the beginning of the end.

It only takes him few steps more for you to see that his hand, which is usually stuffed into his pockets, is prettily decorated by her dainty one; milky skin seemingly unmarred by the harsh yellow lighting in the crowded living room and her ring finger ornamented by a big bright rock you recalled seeing at Seungcheol’s apartment a week prior.

Immediately your hand falls to your side and you take a step back, disappearing effortlessly into the crowd as your watchful eyes are trained on the couple. She with her red silk dress that seemed to accentuate and hug her body in the most complimentary way, and him in his usual all black ensemble that definitely did not betray the senses, showcasing his toned body through the fabric. They looked more like they belonged on the front of some expensive travel or style catalogue.

You would have described the pair as one that stuck out like a sore thumb, but that wasn’t the case. As they waded through the waves of people—his arms wrapped gently around her, never faltering in their protective hold on her—they seemed to put everyone else to shame. It wasn’t that they didn’t belong at this party, it was that they made everyone else look like they shouldn't have been there.

As you watch them laughing and dancing, whispering, faces always close to each other’s, you realize that she is not the mirage you had made her out to be in your head. She’s everything they said she was, and even more, she bore his heart.

“Seungcheol!” the bellowing voices of 13 other boys pull you from your thoughts and suddenly, you go from a passive by-stander simply basking in the glow of the couple, to the forefront of all the excitement as Mingyu finds you in the crowd and pulls you by the arm to where Seungcheol and the others are standing.

Dark chocolate irises that you’ve known all your life and have practically memorized at this point meet your own and that’s the last color you register along with the sounds of cheering and shouting of joyous congratulations, before everything becomes a blur of motion as your legs will you through the halls of the frat house you practically lived at. After that all you see is orange—bright, fiery, blazing orange.

As you sink onto the floor of Jihoon’s bathroom, vision bleary from the pain, you press your cheek onto the tile taking whatever comfort you can from their soothing coolness.

‘Marigolds,’ you chuckle at the irony of just how fitting it is, the sound coming out more of a garbled cough than a laugh due to the burning in your throat, 'in the language of flowers, it meant despair, grief and jealousy.'

As you shift in and out of consciousness, the alcohol in your system working too well with the pain in your chest and throat, forcing you under, you reach your hand out, fingers trying to grasp at the orange blossoms. You hadn’t even made it to the toilet.

‘Sorry Woozi,’ you think in your last moments of consciousness, ‘promise I’ll clean it later. It just hurts too much right now.’

And that’s how the said male finds you.

Once the party is done, Jihoon retreats to his quarters only slightly tipsy since he wasn’t much of a drinker anyway like the rest of the guys. There you are, passed out in the middle of his bathroom floor, lying in what at first glance seemed to be clouds of fire.

If he hadn’t know exactly what he was looking at, he would’ve thought the sight to be beautiful, immaculate even; your limp form swimming in a sea of marigolds, hands outstretched and gripping some of the fresh blooms in your hands, dark hair splayed out across the flowers in stark contrast to the vibrant orange beneath, and your face though tearstained was adorned with loose petals sticking to your skin.

His bathroom had never smelled so nice, he thought despite knowing you’d vomited these flowers. Never in his life had he seen Marigolds as vibrant as these, so alive and in full bloom, as though spring had come in the middle of winter to take up residence in his bathroom; the sight would put Demeter to shame. But he knew the truth of it; this sight was anything but that of life. You were dying.

***

“You have to get the surgery, y/n.” Jihoon sighs the words onto the skin of your forearm where there are various tubes sticking out of you, seemingly the only things keeping you somewhat alive.

You can tell by the way he says it that he’s beyond exhausted, that these are words that he’s tired of saying, that this is a plea he and all the other 11 boys from your friend group are tired of begging you for. You don’t say anything, and your silence only makes him more irked.

“If you aren’t going to get the surgery, at least tell him the truth,” Jihoon attempts to reason with you, “he deserves to know the truth, or even just the chance to save his best friend. You can’t avoid him forever, and you sure as hell can’t just suddenly die and leave him wondering how the fuck that happened.”

Jihoon’s crass words make you laugh, a breathy quiet chagrin that slips from your lips sounding more like a cough than mirth. He’s so fed up with you that he doesn’t even bother to choose his words wisely, not like how he was when this all started a month ago.

“He hasn’t even tried to visit me.” At that he rolls his eyes.

“Because you won’t let him. You won’t even let us tell him that you’re in the hospital. As far as he knows your back home with your parents getting better, not here in Seoul, in a hospital, fucking dying.”

This time, it’s your turn to roll your eyes and admonish him, albeit weaker compared to his display. “I get it Woozi, I’m dying, I don’t have much longer to live. Tell me something the doctors haven’t, I get it—”

“No, you don’t!” His booming voice suddenly cuts you off. For the first time in your long friendship with him, he raises his voice at you.

“You don’t get it,” you watch him as he shakes his head, “you say you get it, that you know you’re dying, but you don’t. You’re acting like this is a small thing, that it’ll go away sooner or later, but it isn’t. It’s either you get the surgery or you’re dead, done, gone forever. There won’t even be anything left of you to love that oblivious, unworthy asshole you call your best friend.

“A real best friend would be more worried about you, would be here, breaking down doors and begging me and the rest of the guys to let him see you, he’d at the very least, demand to be able to visit you and not be running around having fun with his whatever-she-is while you’re dying.”

Tears fill Jihoon’s eyes as he paces, arms angrily flailing as he rants to and at you. That’s when Wonwoo, seemingly forgotten in the corner, ever the quiet spectator and your next closest friend after Jihoon and Seungcheol, steps in to place a calming hand on Jihoon’s heaving chest.

“Jihoon,” Wonwoo’s thick baritone pierces through the sound of Jihoon’s angry breaths, “that’s enough. Look at her, she’s crying.”

You hadn’t realized it until Wonwoo had pointed out, but your face was hot with moisture, and your patient’s gown was soaked down the front with the tears that had run off your face. Jihoon seeing this seems to snap out of his trance, his stance relaxing and his eyes growing soft.

“Sorry, y/n, I-I didn’t mean, I—”

“It’s okay Jihoonie,” you hadn’t used that nickname in a long time, not since Seungcheol had practically thrown a fit, banning you from calling any of the others by cute nicknames, “it’s okay, don’t be sorry, I get it.”

Giving him and Wonwoo the warmest smile you can muster in your weakened state, you open your arms out for them, their strong sturdy forms quick to bend to fill the tiny space of your arms, wrapping your frail form in their own warmth.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper the words onto the tops of their heads, petting the hair there, “I get it, I do. You don’t have to be sorry. I’m scared too.”

The admission of your own fear wracks a brand-new sob through your chest that you hadn’t known you were holding back, and immediately you’re crying a fresh batch of tears onto the fabric of their shirts.

“I don’t want to die,” you wail despite the scratching of your throat as you clutch the fabric of their shirts into clenched fists, “but I can’t, I don’t want to—I can’t do it. If I get the surgery, I’ll forget, and I can’t—

“I can’t live in a world where I don’t know Seungcheol, where I don’t know his smile or the sound of his voice and his laughter, where I don’t know that he’s a cry baby and that his favorite kind of movies are romcoms, even though he’ll never admit it to anyone but me.

“I’m scared too, but it’s not just dying,” you sob, “what kind of life would it be if I stopped knowing him? If I couldn't even remember the only love I’ve ever known?”

***

Weeks pass in a blur of burning orange speckled with blotches of vibrant red; hospital bins filled to the brim with orange marigolds drenched in bile and blood; nurses carrying and disposing more and more beautiful bright bouquets of marigolds each passing day.

“The marigolds are really pretty, at least.” Soonyoung absentmindedly remarks as he watches a nurse file out of the room, two trash bins in hand, brimming with freshly puked flowers.

Seungkwan who stands beside him gives the hin a look of complete outrage, nudging Soonyoung’s side a little too harshly with his elbow, making the blonde yelp in pain. Jihoon who’s sitting at your bedside only rolls his eyes at the insensitivity, while the rest of the boys stand around awkwardly and apologetically.

The tense sight of almost all your closest friends standing around as if they were at your funeral rather than just your hospital room only makes you laugh into the receptacle on your mouth, cursing the restraining contraption despite it being the only thing that’s managed to help you breathe throughout this whole ordeal.

Shifting up weakly, you move to sit up in your hospital bed to get a better look at the boys. Jihoon’s hands are quicker than your frail body though, as he tries to keep you lying down.

“C’mon, Hoonie, I’m dying, not losing my sense of humor,” you shrug his hands away and Mingyu’s takes their place to sit you up, “what Soonyoung said was funny.”

“I’m not offended, it’s funny. I mean, they are pretty, right? It would suck if I was dying and the flowers exploding out my gut were fucking ugly as shit. Could you imagine puking roses? Ugh, how generic,” you chuckle, upping the dramatics and giving Soonyoung a wink along with a mirthful grin which he sheepishly returns.

You glance at Seungkwan who’s trying to bite down his smile and you offer him your own wide one, “bet you never had a flower shop for a friend, huh?” And at that, the others who’d spent most of this time awkwardly standing around, the same way they did every week when they came to visit, finally let out their laughter.

You laugh along with them as much as your lungs will allow and you shake Jihoon’s shoulder, as if the gesture will shake the frown off of his face as you whine, “C’mon, please don’t be mad, Jihoon. I’m dying, you’re not allowed to be mad at me.”

“She kinda has a point, Hyung.” Vernon, feeling more relaxed after your joke, takes a seat at the foot of your bed and shrugs at the older male.

“Dying friend trumps angry friend,” you shrug, smiling brightly at Vernon who just pets your leg affectionately. Despite his irritation, Jihoon watches the exchange and visibly softens, patting your head just as sweetly and giving you half a smile. “Whatever, you’re stupid.”

“By the way, where’s Wonwoo?” Mingyu asks, changing the topic effectively, “isn’t he supposed to be here, too?”

“He said he’s running late,” Jihoon checks the clock, noting that the male is never usually this late, “he said he had to pick up something before—” as if on cue, the male in question rushes through the doors of your hospital room, panting and sweaty.

“What the heck, Woo? Did you run all the way here?” you laugh at his disheveled state, “don’t you have a car—” just as quickly as he makes it through the door, your words die on your tongue, finally seeing just what it was he had to pick up, rather who.

“Seungcheol.” The world seems to stop for a moment when your eyes meet his, and everyone in the room becomes as still as statues, the playful mood from earlier quickly dissolving into wordless tension.

It feels like eons before someone breaks the palpable stiffness in the room, but it’s Wonwoo’s voice that slices through it and breaks the trance you and Seungcheol are locked in, “I’m sorry, y/n.”

“What the actual fuck, Wonwoo!” This is the loudest your voice has ever managed to be since you arrived at the hospital and the strain burns your throat so much that you start coughing violently, gasping desperately for air as a fresh wave of nausea hits you and the rest of the boys can tell right away by the panicked look in your eyes.

Vernon, who’s closest to the new trash bin is quick to grab it, placing it in front of you on your lap, while Mingyu’s hands efficiently remove the breathing receptacle from your face. Jihoon reacts like it’s his second nature to pull your hair out of your face and hold it behind you, while Wonwoo moves to your side to gently stroke your back, cooing soft encouraging whispers into your ear as bright orange starts to assault your senses, blurring your vision and filling the room with sickly sweet scent of marigolds along with the sounds of your violent retching. Soonyoung and Seokmin are quick to leave the room, saying they’ll call a nurse for an extra bin while the rest sit to the side, not even an inkling of panic on their faces.

It all happens so fast, with such lighting precision and rehearsed accuracy that Seungcheol is sure that this isn’t the first time his closest friends have been through this. He realizes quickly that he’s the only one who hadn't known.

Once you're done unloading your flowery guts into the bin, Minghao is already ready with a moist towelette to wipe away any dribble along your lips. Your weak gaze manages to meet Seungcheol’s confused but visibly enraged ones, but you don’t speak. Not for lack of ability to, but because there was nothing left to say. The jig was up, he knew.

“What the fuck, y/n?” Seungcheol’s voice is booming and you almost laugh at how often you’d heard those words in the span of time you’d been in the hospital, but his next words cease any coherent thought you might have, “who is he? Tell me, y/n, who the fuck is he, I’ll kill him.”

Confused, your eyes dart from the angry eyes of the subject of your affections, to the bespectacled ones of your other best friend who was still standing beside you, hands unwaveringly rubbing gentle, soothing circles onto your back.

“Woo?”

“I thought you should be the one to tell him.” He explains, eyes apologetic.

“I swear to god, y/n! Is this where you’ve been the past two months?” Seungcheol, ever the impulsive and quick to anger person he is, doesn’t even register the moment that passes between you and Wonwoo, “Why didn’t you tell me? I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell your best friend! We’ve been through everything together, and I would do anything for you but you were just going to go through all of this, all alone, without me?”

You only laugh at how he was exactly the same Seungcheol you’d always remembered. Two torturous months had passed and while the time had seemed to trudge on slowly for you, the time feeling like eternities without him, it had flown by for him and he had emerged from the other end practically unscathed; you were dying, and in a way, he was literally killing you with heartbreak but all he could think about was how you could have the audacity to leave him out of your own illness and death.

Classic Seungcheol. It might have seemed unbearably selfish of him, but this was also part of why you loved him so dearly. He was so innocent, so caught up in his own heart that he barely registered anyone else’s, but it also meant that once he treasured someone, he would do anything, sacrifice anything for them. His one-track mind and heart would never let him be or do anything less; if Seungcheol had to give you the world just so that you might live, he would die trying to get it.

It was exactly why you had wanted to leave him out of it. You knew that he was too kind, too self-sacrificing to the point of selfishness, too caught up in his own emotions that he would never understand your choice to not have the surgery—to die.

“Sorry, Cheolie,” you try to smile despite the sob that gets caught in your throat, “I just thought it would be better this way.”

At your words, he immediately unclenches and finally all the anger that wracks his body seems to dissipate from him until all that’s left in his irises is confusion and hurt. "You don’t have to do this. You can just have the surgery,” he coaxes, walking over to your bedside where he takes your hand in his, gently rubbing the skin there with his thumb before gently pressing it to his lips, closing his eyes as he does so.

“But I can’t, Cheolie, I can’t forget—” you almost slip up and say ‘you’, but you swallow it down and Seungcheol is quick to take the reigns of the conversation again.

“You can! You can forget that bastard! Whoever he is, he doesn’t deserve you, your love, or your death.” He pleads, tears pricking the edges of his eyes.

“You don’t know that Seungcheol,” the first time in a long time you’d used his first name, “he doesn’t deserve me, he deserves better, you just don’t know—”

“I don’t want to know! If he really loved you, he wouldn’t be letting you die here all alone—”

“But I’m not alone!” you try to argue, but Seungcheol isn’t having any of it, he’s too riled up again, too in his pain to let you explain anything to him.

“No, y/n! For fuck’s sake, listen to me! If he can’t love you when you’re fucking willing to die for him, then he’s not gonna love you even after you’re dead! And there’s no use dying just to remember someone who doesn’t love you!” he heaves, “isn’t it better to just be alive not remembering someone who could never love you?”

Everyone stood around you, eyes wide and tensely watching, awaiting your response with bated breath. His words hurt. More than anything, they felt like a death sentence, an indirect confirmation that Seungcheol could never and would never return your feelings. Fighting the marigolds bubbling in your chest threatening to spill out, you can only shake your head, smiling at him as tears finally spill from your eyes.

It takes everything in Jihoon not to punch the lights out of Seungcheol as everyone watches you cry, but Wonwoo’s firm grip on Jihoon’s arm is warning enough that you wouldn’t want them fighting with each other.

“It’s okay,” you finally manage the words, and everyone but Seungcheol knows that the words are more for everyone else in the room, “I know you don’t understand, and I don’t expect you to.

“You’re not meant to; it’s not for you to understand. This is mine.” Seungcheol meets your eyes and in them he sees a finality that he has never seen before, a certainty unmarred by fear or sadness. “So, I don’t care if you’re mad at me, or if you don’t agree. You don’t have to, you just have to be my friend and sit this one out, okay?”

Your eyes scan through the room, meeting the eyes of all your closest friends, asking for their silent agreement to both keep your secret but also to no longer question your decision. “Just be my friend and sit with me till—”

“Till the end.” Wonwoo finishes when you’re unable to, voice shaky from overuse and the emotions.

The night the world ends is the day your heart finally stops. For three days prior you’d been in a medically induced coma, the doctors explaining to Jihoon and all your friends that it would be too much, too painful to keep you awake while your body slowly failed; your lungs slowly filling with blood, fluid and marigolds, its roots constricting the far too weakened organ tighter and tighter until your system would eventually crash from the lack of oxygen. Ultimately suffering from a long and arduous suffocation.

When you go, it isn’t peaceful or serene like the books or the movies often say it is. Your body is a mess of convulsions and painful retching fits. Despite being sedated, you're gasping for air; your body seemingly clawing onto life and fighting to preserve itself despite your heart telling it to let go. As the last of your struggle and life dissipates from your body, you’re surrounded by the same friends who’d kept you company throughout this whole ordeal.

Till the end, even on the days you could no longer talk, or wake up to even see them, they had stayed. Some talked to you, sometimes telling you stories, reading you your favorite books, and even saying their goodbyes one by one. Even Seungcheol, who despite his bursts of anger and frequent tantrums that had him walking out, always returned to keep his promise and just sit with you.

That night, there were no marigolds like when Jihoon had first found you, it was not beautiful or immaculate. There was no portrait of you sprawled in a field of bright golden flowers. Instead, there were only bloodied, wilting petals scattered at your bedside and sticking to your skin and robes, the orange barely visible through the blood that stained them. Your frame was the smallest they’d ever seen it and you were completely pale, the only color on you was the blood that had caked and dried at your lips and wherever else it had splattered, along with the mess of withering petals.

When the flatline finally echoes through your tiny ICU room, with 13 cramped bodies, not including the doctors and nurses, no one says anything. Wonwoo is the first to crack, taking your limp hand in his, pressing the lifeless limb to his lips then falling to his knees and finally breaking down completely for the first time. Everyone else follows suit.

Your distant relatives had settled the arrangements for the funeral, deciding to have it in Seoul where you would be surrounded by all your friends and most beloved ones. They are kind and understanding, despite not having been close with you and they thank everyone who attends graciously. All your friends attend, Seungcheol even brings his girlfriend for moral support and she does just that. You would’ve been happy that he had her shoulder to cry on, Jihoon thinks as he watches them.

The night Seungcheol’s world stops is a week after your passing. Jihoon invites Seungcheol to go out with him and Wonwoo. When he meets the pair at the park, sitting on a bench, all three of them almost laugh at how much of a similar state they’re all in; eyes puffy with dark circles underneath to match, and faces swollen from sleepless nights spent crying.

“If y/n were here, she’d laugh at how bad we look,” Wonwoo laughs, the first to break the silence, “she’d never let us live it down.”

“I miss her.” Seungchol breathes out the words into a puff of cold exhalation. At the words, Jihoon feels his fists clench, a sudden rage washing over him, but Wonwoo is quick and takes it upon himself to perform the difficult task at hand instead of Jihoon.

“You should know, Seungcheol,” Wonwoo sadly meets the gaze of his friend, forcing the words and choking down the tears in his throat, “it was you.”

“Y/n didn’t want us to tell you, she was kind that way,” Jihoon runs a hand through his locks, fighting the tears, “but we’re not as kind.”

“We thought you deserved to know.” Wonwoo clarifies, not letting Jihoon’s anger cloud their actual purpose.

“She was in love with you, she always has been,” Jihoon sighs, recounting the conversation he had with you a few weeks prior to you being comatose.

“There’s still time, y/n. I know I said I would drop it, I’m sorry, but you can’t blame a guy for trying to save his best friend, right?” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“It’s okay, Hoonie, I understand.” Till the very end, you were kind despite your pain.

“You know why marigolds?” your eyes look to Wonwoo sitting by Jihoon then trail off to the view outside your window. “When I first arrived in Seoul, he was my first friend. I met him in a field of marigolds. I’d fallen and scraped my knee. It was really bad actually, I had to get stitches after. I remember trying so hard not to cry, because I was a big girl and this was the big city and I just felt like there were no room for tears here, y’know?”

You laugh at the memory, “out of nowhere this big kid comes running at me asking if I’m okay. While I tried not to cry, telling him I was okay, he took one look at the gaping wound and all the blood on my skirt and he started crying so loudly.

He was so dramatic that it almost made me forget how much it hurt, and I could laugh even just a little at him. So overly emotional, that boy.” You shake your head. “Anyway, I ask him why he’s crying, and this obviously much older and taller boy bawls at me saying ‘it looks like it hurts, doesn’t it hurt? And you’re not crying so I’ll just cry for you’.”

“He cried so much that his parents eventually found him and me, and brought me to the hospital to get stitches. I’ve been with him ever since. We were so young back then. I’m sure he doesn’t even remember…”

Finally looking back at Jihoon who now sees the fresh tears in your eyes, “but I-I don’t want to forget, Jihoon. I don’t want to forget him or who he helped me become.”

“And I knew, you know?” chuckling mirthlessly, your eyes shift to Wonwoo’s sad eyes as they watch your sadder ones, “I knew he couldn’t feel that way about me, I knew he didn’t love me, but I adored him anyway. There were times I thought, maybe, maybe he’d finally see me...”

Turning back to Jihoon, you could only shrug, “but we all know how that turned out.”

“She always loved you, Seungcheol,” Wonwoo interjects, ending Jihoon’s retelling and watching as the older male’s eyes fill with tears.

“But why didn’t she—why couldn’t she just have told me? She could’ve just been honest.”

“We all know that wasn’t an option,” it’s Jihoon’s turn to interrupt this time, “you were engaged, and she wasn’t going to ever let herself get in the way of that.”

A silence passes between them at his words. It was true. No matter how Seungcheol looked at it and flipped it around in his head, you were far too selfless to do anything so cruel, and knowing you, the last thing you’d want was to make it any harder on him. You were no angel, but you were a good person, the best he knew, but he also knew you could be selfish to a certain extent. Instead of just going through with the surgery, you suffered painfully till the very end, and all to preserve memories of someone who he now knew didn’t even deserve to be remembered, all because he was too blind and too wrapped up in his own heart to see it, to see you.

“I love you; I’m waiting for you unbearably.” Wonwoo’s eyes are closed as he whispers the words into the emptiness of the starless night sky. The two males stare at him wordlessly as if waiting for an explanation and after taking his time, letting the moment pass, he does.

“It was a quote y/n really loved, from a book she recommended to me a while back.” He smiles fondly at the memory, “during her last days, sometimes she’d whisper it in her sleep.”

They sat there in silence for what seemed like hours, wordlessly comforting each other by just being there. As they stayed there, basking in the stillness and calm that seemed to envelope the rest of the universe; your death felt like the world had ended, but here it was, continuing to spin through the vastness of the cold October night sky; blissfully ignorant of your passing. Even in that emptiness, there was comfort and somehow, they could almost feel you; just there, sitting with them till the end.

Seungcheol is the first to stand to leave, whispering a hoarse thank you to the two before turning to head to his car and driving off, home to his fiancé. Wonwoo and Jihoon don’t say anything more. It’s Jihoon who decides when it’s finally time to leave. He turns to Wonwoo, beckoning to the male with a nod.

“Let’s go, Woo.”

“Do you think it will hurt?” Jihoon doesn’t look at him as he drives, but quirks his brow, confused by his question.

“What, the surgery?”

It takes a moment before Wonwoo can respond. He’s perfectly calm, looking out the window at the streaks of passing light as he shakes his head, “no. Forgetting.”

The words take Jihoon by surprise, but he doesn’t show it, not wanting to worry him any further. Instead, he gives him a comforting smile, the first hint of sincere softness on his face since you had been admitted to the hospital, and shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think so. I think it only hurts when you know you’re forgetting. But once you’ve forgotten, then there has to be some relief in that, right? To be able to be a blank slate. A new start, she would have wanted that for you.”

Wonwoo only nods, closing his eyes as he takes in the younger’s words.

“Don’t worry, Wonwoo,” Jihoon’s hand is a comforting warmth on his shoulder, “even when you can’t remember her anymore, I’ll remember her for the both of us.”

Fin.

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seancekitsch · 3 years

Text

You Need Hands: Part of the Prize Buck Series

Warnings: smut, talking about abusive relationships, talking about drug use, unsafe bondage practices bc i am not a sex guru i am a writer of two flawed people, codependancy, praising

Klaus is surprised, to say the least when you come into the apartment raging, fingernails chewed off and eyes red as if you'd been crying on your walk home from work. Work was your only place, save for home, where you seemed truly happy. He notices your shaking and the barely contained rage behind the clench of your jaw.

“Hey! Hey, is everything alright?” he puts a hand out to stop you from pacing, and you turn on him, eyes glassy and red.

“Do you know what she said about us?”

What the fuck? Who would have said that? You talk to his siblings. Your boss. And. Oh. Okay, you talk to Gwen, your roommate from your University days that you recently gotten in touch with again. Klaus doesn't like her. It’s hard to get on Klaus’ bad side, but she seemed… pushy. Not pushy. What's the word he’s trying to use? Controlling? Scheming? Yeah, those are the ones. Accuracy cuts deeper, you always tell him. He pets your arm, feeble in trying to calm you down but after a few ragged open-mouthed breaths, you’re ready.

“She called us Sid and Nancy,” you continue, “She said we live in a sex den above a bodega slowly killing each other, if not outright doing it. She thinks you’re gonna get me high again. She basically met up with me up to judge me and tell me everything I’m doing wrong. I didn't even get to tell her about that paella we made last week for your whole family.”

“Oh, she’s kidding right? I’d make a terrible Nancy.” That makes you pause in your tracks, confusion lighting up your features.

“No- Klaus she thinks you’re Sid.”

“I’m not Sid.” He reaffirms, pulling you in and wrapping his arms around your frame. Noticing how the candlelight catches on your hair, making you look like a biblical angel, one of those terrifying fiery things, hard to look at but you’re all his. He knows how you feel right now, better than anyone. He’s used to being the one discounted and lectured. His own siblings, as much as he loves them dearly, only just started trusting him in the span of the past two years. It felt like something divine, that despite how mean and secluded you were at first, how you trusted him so deeply so quickly. He’d known you for almost a year, and in that year dragged you to another century, gotten you involved in a cult, exposed you to his family, ghosts, challenging and difficult situations other people could have easily cracked under without disease plaguing their mind. Klaus is capable of great cruelty and recklessness, he knows it. He knows you shouldn't trust someone who has seen and done the frankly fucked up shit he has, but you do. And he trusts you fully in turn, if not more. Even when you refused to be open with him, pushed him away; the days when you would have rather stuck pins in your hand than speak to him because he was loud and you were too weak to handle it.

He exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding when he feels your head dip and fall against his chest.

“Is she right?” your voice is far away, empty. Needing some empty comfort. “Are we killing each other? Do we suck?”

“Hey, c’mon, don't be upset,” he shushes you, “We’re good for each other. We have jobs! No relapses! Bet your ex could never say that.” He couldn't, your ex was part of the reason you were here, which Klaus wasn't exactly upset about because it meant he had you and no one else did, but you probably could have benefitted from years free from an active addiction that was more or less funded by the competitive nature of your work and home life.

“I’m not upset. I’m pissed.”

That solves it for Klaus. When you're pissed, you clam up. He doesn't want to emotionally lose you for the rest of the day, or worse, the whole weekend.

“We’re not killing each other,” he confirms, “Pretty sure you can't kill me anyway.”

You snort and swat at his ribs, but then your hand doesn't leave him after the hit, instead slinking from his side to his back, coming to rest on his shoulder blade. You're holding him, which means he hasn't lost you.

“Oh, wicked thing, I’ll show you how good I am for you.”

You sigh, and feeling the pricking of your nails on his back, he takes that as permission. His hand begins roaming your body, groping at your chest, squeezing at your ass as you grab onto him, holding him for stability as he keeps moving, his large hands making you moan.

“Klaus…” you trail off. What are you trying to say? What are you asking for? You don't know.

“How many days have you been clean?” He whispers against your skin.

“One hundred and ninety three.” You know it exactly.

“See? She’s wrong,” and he goes back to peppering your face with kisses as his hands work to pull your skirt out of the way. Its dirty the way he pulls your clothes out of the way to fondle at you, to rub against your cunt through your underwear, to pull that underwear aside and find you wet and waiting. His other arm wrapped around the small of your back, holding your rumpled skirt gathered in his hand.

“I’ll be real good for you,” he affirms, slipping a finger into you, and then another. You grip onto his shoulders now, enough to keep you standing when your legs want to crumble under his thrusting. He pushes in with ease, like you were made to take his fingers, your breath hitching and tiny whines falling from your lips. His forehead dips to press against yours, sweat beginning to form on his brow. Its dizzying, how deep his long fingers can be inside you, how full and whole you feel as he holds you against him, making you shake and moan as he props you up, letting you feel like a ragdoll at his mercy.

“Hey,” he nudges you with his nose, “Hey, Lover, look over there.”

He shifts his head to the left, and your head follows. You're face to face with the image of yourself in the cheap and grimy thrift shop mirror you had bought. You see how strong his lean muscles are, how they move against you, hold you close and safe.

“Look how fuckin’ good you look.” You nod, you have to agree, heavy bedroom eyes stare back at you, your lips parted almost pornographically. Is this how Klaus sees you all the time? He picks up the pace, eagerly moving his hips along with his hand, needing to feel some release and friction himself as he works you over, your voice raising an octave as he gets rougher, until your eyes close tightly; your body stiffens, shakes, and you can hear him praising you. You're doing so well, that's it, all for me, right on my hand, you're so sexy. Your voice comes out in a shudder. Trying to thank him as your muscles twitch and you look into his beautiful green eyes.

“No, no, no, shhhh,” he hushes you again, smoothing your hair down as he leads you to walk on wobbly legs over to the bed to sit, not bothering to fix your skirt. Your eyebrow quirks as he moves to remove his belt fully, not just unbuckle it to remove his pants.

But you wise up quickly, watching him grab your hands and start to wrap the belt around your wrists. You have bondage rope somewhere around here, but this is hot, and he told you to be quiet, so you don’t make a sound. He moves your hands at the wrist, checking for you to make sure the belt won't hurt you, then pushes you back onto the bed, staring at invisible patterns on the ceiling as you lift your hand for them, belted wrists landing at the other edge of the bed. You can feel him push your skirt up even more, then you feel his skin on yours, his bare thighs rubbing against the inside of yours, then the sensation of Klaus rubbing his cock against you. Fuck, you love his cock. You love him. He watches your expression, your gasps, your sighs from lips plumped by bruising, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs against you. You're a fucking goddess. He doesn't deserve you, despite trying to carnally prove that he does. Youre so fucking good, you’ve helped better each other. Fuck what anyone says. He just hopes you believe it too.

“So fuckin’ good, Lover. Oh, I’m gonna worship this cunt,” he sighs, more to himself than you.

“Don’t make me wait, Klaus,” you command, but then whine as he enters you. Everything feels like so much, so much.

“Sensitive, Fraulein?”

“I can handle it.”

“Of course you can,” he agrees, setting his pace

He hikes one of your legs up onto his hip, then hikes his leg up onto the bed, getting a better angle to fuck you, but also to lean in and kiss you, his mustache brushing your chin, lips attaching themselves to the underside of your jaw as he kisses you fully, pressing his love into your skin.

He covers your body with his own, protective, possessive, and devoted; he fucks you through another high, making you scream into his mouth as he doesn’t slow his pace, once again shushing you and singing your praises. I love you, you look so good like this, let me live the rest of my life like this between your thighs. You want to let him take, and take, and take. Such a thoughtful, loving, loyal person. He gives. You want him to give.

“Klaus,” you sound breathless, “Klaus, come inside me, please.”

You beg, wanting him completely. He lifts your other leg, before climbing completely on the bed with you, his sweaty chest dropping against yours, palming at your breast as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, needing to feel the closeness of you as he comes.

He comes quietly, with a staggered gasp and your lips kissing his hair. One of his hands finds yours bound above your head, and grasps them both in his. He kisses your neck as he stills, body relaxing as he comes down.

You stay like that for almost a half hour before the phone on the wall rings and snaps you out of your loving haze.

#klaus hargreeves x reader #prize buck series

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kiribakuhappiness · 3 years

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Oh! Follow up question to the other one: We know Bakugou’s personality would be practically the same. But would anything- other than his personality(?)- change if he were to he adopted by a couple of Pro-Heroes? (god- he would probably turn out so much stronger. I can practically hear the explosions already…)

Hmm, it would definitely depend on the type of people the Pro-Heroes are!

I honestly can't even imagine the sheer strength that Katsuki would have if he were to have started such intense hero training at an even younger age... I already have trouble understanding how he doesn't end up being the #1 hero in Horikoshi's canon world, let alone in an AU setting where he's got extra guidance and proper in-depth training.

I guess it would all depend on how these Pro-Heroes interacted with Katsuki. He doesn't take advice from superiors lightly - he already believes that he's the best and that he knows best, and everything learned from everyone else were merely suggestions that he made the conscious decision to adapt to become better, rather than because he respected the person giving him the suggestion.

Katsuki is so fucking smart. Analytical, a problem solver, someone with outstanding critical thinking skills, who is quick on his feet and reckless with his decision making and how he chooses to execute What Needs To Be Done, no matter the cost or the consequences. He's self-righteous and yet at the same time incredibly self-sacrificing.

I think a good example of someone who he respects, yet someone who doesn't get all up in his face or try to be buddies with him, and some people you can compare your Pro-Heroes to are Aizawa-sensei and (while they've never met canonically, I don't believe) Miruko.

While Katsuki admires All Might, I sometimes get the feeling that he doesn't really... like him? Ahaha, or that he gets annoyed with him sometimes! I get the sense that he admires All Might's courage, his inability to back down, the way he always always comes out on top and wins!

But All Might, or more specifically Toshinori, has tried on many ocassions to reach out to Katsuki. To comfort him while he's crying, to try and say all the right things, to help him understand some of the things haunting him, and yet (despite a brief consideration following the Deku vs. Kacchan fiasco) Katsuki isn't all that receptive to his outreach.

He pushes Toshinori and his advice away when he failed his first training module, he reprimands Toshinori and Deku multiple times for their obviousness, their ignorance, and their obliviousness when handling certain situations, and while it probably means a lot to him that Toshinori has given him some really nice compliments, he doesn't ever actually acknowledge them or - more likely - accepts them. It's like meeting a lifelong role model only to find out, oh, they're a human being as well, just like me, with flaws and annoying traits who make mistakes and have things they also need to work on to become better.

But his relationship with Aizawa-sensei is so very subtle, so drastically different, and I appreciate it so much - I know Aizawa-sensei does it on purpose, because despite their somewhat lack of interactions, Aizawa-sensei wholeheartedly stood up for Katsuki during the LOV situation, implanted trust in his student that he was a hero and nothing less.

When Katsuki first came to Yuuei, he was already running on confidence-fumes following the disheartening reality that his quirk wasn't enough to save him from the Sludge Villain (that there are, in fact, forces in this world more powerful than himself. That he isn't invincible).

One of the scenes I really love is when they're at training camp, and Aizawa-sensei specifically chooses Katsuki to re-throw his ball from their exercise during the first day of school. Katsuki does, and his world is knocked off its center when he's barely made any progress at all in strengthening his quirk. All that training, after six whole months and one sports festival later, he's still somewhere along the lines of being back where he started.

I believe Aizawa-sensei did this on purpose. To show Katsuki that he's already powerful, but that if he wants to get better, wants to improve and be the best, then he needs to work even harder or the results just won't be there. Aizawa-sensei watches from the sidelines. He doesn't meddle or intervene, doesn't try to lecture Katsuki about who he is and why he should change (like Best Jeanist tries to do). He knows Katsuki is who he is, and he also knows that he doesn't have to soften up to be a great hero because Aizawa-sensei himself is not friendly or smiley with the media or anything like that and even still he manages to be an incredible hero (one of the very best, in my opinion), but that he recognizes that Katsuki is fighting with himself moreso than he's fighting with anyone else, and that's where he tries to help him the most.

I think if your Pro-Hero family wants to have a positive impact on Katsuki, they need to be accepting of his attitude, open to his way of thinking and how he chooses to express himself, because any form of resistance or adament need for 'change' will no-doubt just lead to conflict and more internal spiraling that would probably only entice him to push them further away. I really think that's why he struggles so much with Deku. Because he doesn't want to change. He likes who he is. He wants to be a foul-mouthed badass AND the most amazing hero the world has ever seen, simultaneously.

I don't mean to toot my own horn here or anything, but I think I did a fairly good job of covering a lot of Katsuki's internal thoughts and behaviors regarding how he interacts with his parents and his friends in Hail to the King and Queen (at least that's what I've been told by some readers) so that, along with the fic mentioned in the previous ask regarding Katsuki's relationship with his parents, I think should give you a decent look into the mind of what it would be like to Successfully Raise Bakugou Katsuki and how those influences might be affected depending on the way your Pro-Hero parents end up treating him!

I hope this helps as well! I'm really excited to read it when you're done! 😁

#ahhh I love that we're psychoanalyzing Katsuki on this fine day #he's so rich and full of complex emotions #love that for him #not for him obviously the poor boy needs like at least ONE therapy session please #but for someone who likes to white knuckle his way through life #I think he's doing pretty okay for himself!#bakugou katsuki #bnha #asks

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