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goodday-goodmorn · 9 months

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Alright! Starting this shitshow of a blog off strong with a platonic yandere Bruce Wayne fic!

Heavily inspired by- @blughxreader and their batman stuff! Go check ‘em out- (specifically the one with poor reader and the rooftop escape, those are my fav’s <3)

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Also inspired by this qoute:

'They can't do that,' she said finally. 'It's the one thing they can't do. They can make you say anything -- anything -- but they can't make you believe it. They can't get inside you.' (Gorge Orwells, 1984)

“You know, i’m pretty sure that you helping me right now would be going against natural selection.”

Bruce sent you a look, something dark in his eyes. You knew it was coming however and shamelessly avoided looking at him for that exact reason. Under normal circumstances you wouldn’t have said that, he never was one for jabs or jokes that hinted in any way about you dying.

“You’re kind of a mother hen ya know that? I mean, i knew before but this is really solidifying it ya know?”

It was a deflection and you both knew it, usally Bruce wouldn’t let you get away with those. But once again, these were not the usual circumstances. Truth be told he was probably just glad you were talking again, that you had some life back in your eyes, albeit only a small amount.

“Your soup is getting cold.”

Ah damn it. You were hoping he wouldn’t notice. A stupid hope, consdiering he notices fucking everything.

“So it is.”

…

A sigh, “Kid, you need to eat.” You knew what it meant. It was a silent question, ‘are we gonna do this the easy way or the hard way?’, because either way, you would be eating.

You swallowed, truth be told, you didn’t have the motivation to eat. Nor the appetite, but the alternative was him talking you through every bite and you really didn’t want that right now.

So with a sigh of your own you picked up the spoon, at least you didn’t have to cook anything, all you had to do was eat what was in front of you. You could do that. Barely any effort. It was simple.

So simple.

The spoon stays in the bowl, your hand resting on it as you stare at the soup.

It’s delicious, you know it is, Alfred's food always is, and he’d made one of your favorites too. Something nice and hearty so you would be full for a while and wouldn’t have to go through the effort of eating again too soon.

Bruce was watching you when you looked up, ever watchful, ever observant, waiting to see if he had to intervene.

You swallowed, you never liked it when he stared too hard. His gaze was always so intense. With heavy limbs, you scoop a spoonful of soup and start eating.

Bruce’s gaze softens and he lets out a soft, “Thank you.” He ruffles your hair and you don’t have the will to stop yourself from leaning into it right now.

Give and take, give and take…

You eat in silence, you’re propped up on some pillows on the bed, Bruce is sitting next to the bed on a chair.

Maybe it had been a stupid idea to ask for him, a very stupid idea but at the time you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t deal with the boy’s clinging, not like this. Not when you woke up feeling like anything but a person.

See, a few hours ago, you woke up and felt fatigued, and apathetic. Two oncoming signs of a depressive episode.

It only got worse as the day went on, you tried to be alright- you really did but, you just couldn’t do it. This whole act of playing house with the Wayne’s was already tiring enough, but for your own sanity you had to keep it up.

After all, if you fought hard against all their afflictions they would only dig their heels in and make your situation a lot worse so- you always figured from the beginning it was better to give in early.

At least, on the surface anyway. Not resist their affections, hell you hadn't even once pulled any sort of escape attempt, or tried anything. You’d barely even argued either.

Your lack of resistance was met with open arms and eagerness. Of course- they knew you were only pretending, that you didn’t view them as family, but they knew it was only a matter of time until you came around.

After all, if you act for something long enough, your brain will eventually start to believe it.

Alas, you were a stubborn little shit, and giving in voluntarily had only seemed to help you keep up this mentality longer.

Until this morning anyway.

When you woke up, feeling like shit and simply couldn’t deal with playing house with your ‘brothers’. So, in your moment of weakness, when you didn’t want to do anything or let them drag you around or cuddle or watch movies, you had done something rather unexpected.

Which of course, was to simply shut down.

They were worried as shit, but when they finally did manage to get you to talk, your shaky whisper of, “I want dad.” -Had been shocking, worrying and exciting all at once.

(It had also been a touch too real, your voice had sounded so small, so far away, and in that moment you really did just want the comforting presence of Bruce.)

So now you were here, so deep into the throws of not being a person you barely felt like moving; sitting in your bed with none other than Bruce Wayne by your bedside, stroking your hair lovingly.

You were done with the soup now, as much as you could eat anyway, before Bruce could even say anything you reasoned with him, “I’ll eat more later. Promise.”

Promises held a lot of weight here. Something practically unbreakable, Especially with Bruce. Especially with you, maybe that’s just because you liked when they had weight. It was nice; To have a concrete thing to swear on that you knew would not be broken.

Bruce probably used them to build trust in his words or something, you didn’t know, and quite frankly you didn’t care right now because well- you got to use them too so…

He thinks for a moment, and then nods, agreeing easily, “Okay.” And with that he takes the bowl from you. He’s… he’s rather agreeable right now, usually he would confirm or try and fight you more on that.

Maybe he was being more lenient because you willingly came to him? Or because you were being open right now, or maybe because he felt bad for what you were going through or-

Gods you don’t have enough energy to ponder this.

You nod and lay back down, he guides you down most of the way. Now you’re back like before, lying in bed, cheek smushed against your pillow, starting at him blankly.

You break the silence as he pulls the blanket over you.

“What type of bird do you think everyone would be?”

He looks back to you, a small upturn of his lips and eyes crinkled slightly in an amused manner. “Why do you ask?”

You shrug, “Bored.”

A partial truth. In reality you were thinking about all that poetic shit about you being like a bird in a fancy golden cage. A very very well cared for bird with access to some deep fucking pockets but you know, still in a cage. Even if the cage is real fancy and has amazing food, even better wifi, and a home movie theater.

(You think Bruce would let you install an indoor pool? Or a jacuzzi. …He probably would. You should ask sometime, ah- you’re getting off track here.)

So anyway- fancy bird poems and then you started thinking about what type of bird you would be and then it kinda spiraled from there.

“Hm. Well, that depends, who do you wanna start with?”

“Mmm… Alfred, cause i think he’s the easiest.”

A little amused quirk of his brow, “What bird is he then?”

“Penguin. Cause he’s always dressed all fancy, and penguins got that sleek fancy vibe about them. They are kinda short for Alfred though…”

Bruce nods, as if taking your words into consideration, “Emperor penguin then. They’re the biggest penguin species.”

Contuiting on just to have something to blabber about you confidently say, “Jason is an emu.”

——————

After a very engaging deep dive into what types of birds everyone was-

(Tim was a woodpecker on account of all the times you’ve seen him slam his head into his desk while working; Dick was an ostrich because if Jason was an Emu then those two had to match; Cassandra got the honor of being a crow; Damien was a kinglet, a ruby crowned kinglet, purely because they are small and for some reason you only recall pictures of seeing those bird look annoyed, Bruce was a harpy eagle because they look big and grumpy, And finally you were a pigeon.)

-You were now half asleep as Bruce read to you like you were a little kid.

It was… nice. Like all the other times you were forced to hang out with the Wayne family. (Only this time you hadn’t been forced, you had called for him.) Nice but with that ever present little weight in the back of your mind, reminding you of just how much these people had taken from you.

Right now though, that little weight was… it was a lot easier to ignore.

You let Bruce’s calming voice wash over you, you were barely listening at this point but he paid no kind to your lack of attention.

This was nice.

No one had ever taken care of you when you went into one of your episodes before. Usually you had to suck it up and work yourself up to go get some food and water before laying in bed until the feeling went away.

It was a terrible feeling, a staggering sensation just on the edge of emptiness. But not there enough for you to not feel anything, it was almost as if everything was muted. All sensations dull, your thoughts weren't but you were apathetic to them.

In short, it sucked. Majorly.

But now, here you were, tucked into bed, fed a warm hearty meal, and being read to with such tenderness and care.

You didn’t even notice that your eyes started to water. But Bruce did. He noticed everything.

Gently, so gently, he wiped away the tear about to fall from your eye. His own were soft as they stared at you. Soft and filled with a look you couldn’t decipher, a look you didn’t want to decipher because the closest thing you could even begin to compare it to was- …was love.

Love.

Fuck- love.

You knew there was something wrong with this family, of course you did- they kidnapped you for pete’s sake, but- but they also had been unconditionally kind to you didn’t they?

You… You couldn’t-

“-do this anymore.”

Your voice was soft, just barely above a whisper. A quiet confession.

‘I can’t do this anymore.’

Bruce sighed, his voice level, but quiet, fitting of the atmosphere. “You don’t have to, it’ll be so much easier if you just give in kiddo.”

He cupped your face in his hand. His own skin was scarred, rough, callous, and yet he held you with such care. It was almost reverent. He gazed at you with an almost sad look, as if your passive struggle hurt you more than him.

(It probably did. He didn’t have anything to worry about after all, you would break eventually. You could only keep telling yourself this was pretend for so long.)

“…”

Stubborn. Always so stubborn in the most muted way; silence. You weren't one to make large outbursts, or outwardly resist, but even so, passive stubbornness. It was something Bruce was fond of; how resilient you were.

You look away from his gaze, not meeting his eyes. His eyes, always so intense, always so much behind those icy blue scaleras.

“Is it-“ You start, the chemical imbalance in your brain making you honest right now.

You realize suddenly that this is the first real conversation you’ve had in months. There was no keeping up the act here. No holding your tongue or dancing with your words, no overthinking about what response would make you the perfect sibling, the perfect child. No catering, no push and pull of deciding how much of you you want to put into your words.

This was honest. The most honest you’ve been since you were kidnapped.

Bruce tilts his head slightly, patiently waiting for you to continue. He could sense a breakthrough, and he always did know when it was better to hold his tongue.

“…Is it worth it?” You say, eyes filled with so much emotion simmering just under the surface.

Bruce has a good idea as to what you’re asking. He knows you. Knows the way you think, the way you come to conclusions, your speech patterns, he knows you well.

(And yet it’s not nearly as much as he wants to. He wants to know more, to know everything, he wants for you to share such details about yourself willingly. He wants you to come to him after a rough day and listen to you rant. He wants to hear you laugh as you discover a new interest. He wants-)

“Yes.”

He strokes your hair gently, voice impossibly soft.

“It’s worth it.”

He answers your asked, unasked questions without a moment's hesitation.

‘Is it worth it to do all this? To keep me here against my will? To have me locked away like some canary in a gilded cage?’

“If it means you are safe and happy.”

“Is this really happiness?”

“It can be if you let it.”

“…”

“Don’t you like it here? You have a loving family, a nice house, you never have to worry about food or safety ever again.”

“…”

He cups your face with both his hands now, making you meet his gaze. Always intense. Too intense. You can’t handle the weight of his love for you.

Flicking your eyes to the wall you mumble, “There’s a saying. If you love something, let it go.” It’s weak, half hearted, you aren’t even sure you really mean it. (You aren’t even sure if you want to be let go anymore… you can’t imagine returning to a life before all this.)

(And Bruce knows this.)

You look back at him, meeting his eyes because you- you just- you know it’s stupid to ask but you can’t stop yourself-

“Why?”

You don’t need to explain any further. Bruce always seems to know what you’re asking.

‘Why me? Why do any of this? Why go through all the trouble just to keep some random kid?’

“Because I love you.”

He says it so easily. So simply, so calmly, as if it is undeniable fact, so once more you ask with more feeling this time,

“Why?”

You can’t stop yourself from leaning into his hold as he gently presses a kiss to your forehead. It’s childish, it’s stupid, it’s dumb, it’s humiliating-

He wipes away new forming tears, still cupping your face, “Because you’re precious.”

You choke out, “You don’t even know me.”

“So then, let me know you.”

Weakly, you shake your head, his hands fall from your face as you choke out, “I- I don’t- i can’t.”

“Hey, look at me sweetheart.”

You do, looking up at him and seeing only the love of a father. You don’t know how to handle such a sight. It’s foreign and it burns and yet, you are drawn in like a moth to a flame.

“We already love you kid. Nothing could change that.”

“You love the idea of me.” You counter, shuffling to prop yourself up a bit because laying down for this just seems too- too vulnerable.

He sighs, “If you think that then we seriously should have had this talk sooner.” He mentally tsk’s, he knows he’s been putting it off for so long because well- you’ve been good. And the family was happy and you were adjusting better than anyone expected you to.

It seems his negligence has resulting in this problem growing however.

He says your name, folds his hands and looks at you calmly, “-If the family wanted another child, then we would have gone to an orphanage.”

You swallow, he continues, “But, we didn’t want just any old person. We wanted you.”

You try to deny his words, no one’s ever wanted that before, and yet you can’t. Because it’s the only thing that even begins to make sense in your head. The only logical reason any of this would have happened.

You can’t deny it.

They love you.

They’re insane, they kidnapped you and yet- yet they- it doesn’t-

“-make sense.” You whisper, even though it’s the only thing that makes any semblance of sense.

“I know, you’re confused and not used to this and scared, but you’re the only thing holding yourself back. If you just let yourself believe we’re a family, you’ll feel so much better. This mindset is only hurting you sweetheart, you need to let it go.”

You look at him, eyes wet and so vulnerable as you whisper in a small voice, “I don’t know how to.”

And he pulls you close now, into a hug, it’s a bit of an awkward angle because he’s on a chair next to the bed and you’re on the bed, but you barely even notice with the way he’s pressing you to his chest. He’s warm as he wraps his arms around you and gently strokes your hair, consisting, comforting.

“We’ll be there every step of the way, start small.”

You shudder. The weight in the back of your mind is back in full force. He's asking you to give up your last bit of resistance. Your last act defiance. He’s asking you to give yourself up voluntarily. To fully endorse the idea that they are your family.

The worst part is, you don’t find yourself all that horrified with the idea.

If anything, you’re more scared that you’ll mess up somehow and piss them off with the real you and end up locked in a basement or something.

You don’t- you don’t know how to have a family. How to have siblings, a father- you don’t know how to interact or what to say and what to do- what if you fuck it up? what if you aren’t acting enough like a family and-

“-breathe with me kid. Com’on, in for 5.” He’s stroking your hair still, talking with you as he counts. You find yourself unconsciously following the deep rumble of his words.

“That’s it… hold for 4. One, two-“ It’s actually really nice to listen to him. Pressed so close like this you can hear the purr and rumble of his words in his chest. You can feel his chest expand with his own steadying breaths.

“Exhale for 6. One, two, three-“ You repeat his number sequence until you find your breathing is back to normal. Not that you had noticed how frantic it got to begin with.

Bruce hums, you feel the vibrations. You can hear his heartbeat like this. It’s nice, being held in his arms. “Good job kid, better?” His voice is a smooth rumble.

You nod weakly against him.

The two of you stay like that for a bit, him holding you as you listen to each other's heartbeats. You ground yourself with his and find your eyes drooping once more with sleep.

You make a noise; a hum of sorts and he sends you his own in return, soft, questioning.

“I-“ You clamp your mouth shut, thinking about what you’re about to say, thinking about if this is what you really want.

In the end you settle on this being the best choice, “I’ll try.” You swallow, mouth suddenly feeling dry, Bruce doesn’t give you any time to regret it though. He presses his face to your hair, affectionate.

“I’ll make the transition as comfortable as possible.” He promises against your hair, not being able to hide the smile in his voice.

You swallow again, starting up with slight nerves clear in your voice, “B-but i told you i’m not exactly very likable s-so don't regret it when i start speaking my mind and-“

That gets a laugh out of him, an amused kid huff, “You can’t possibly be any worse than Jason or Damein.”

You give a weak smile, “I dunno old man, think I could give ‘em a run for their money in bluntless.”

Bruce is smiling, you see it when he pulls away and looks down at you with such adoration. “We’ll have to see then.”

He’s happy, more than happy at finally hearing you be you. As much as he wants to keep you in his arms and listen to you for the rest of eternity however, that was a rather exhausting conversation. You look more than ready for some rest.

Gently, (always so gentle with you, as if you were somthing to be treasured), he laid you back down on the bed.

You let yourself be tucked in. You let him press a kiss to the top of your head. You let him turn off the lights.

“Um hey B- D-Dad?”

Bruce notices the slip up, but he lets it go. You’ve just made a lot of progress, and you’re clearly trying.

“Yes?”

“Do you uh- can i call you something else? Dad just feels really weird and kinda artificial at times so I was thinking maybe something more natural like maybe Pops? Or something like that i don’t know i just-“

“Of course you can.” He cuts off your nervous ramble easily, “You can call me whatever feels most natural, kid.”

You suck in a breath, soothed by his clam tone.

“O-okay. Cool… cool cool cool. Uh well then, could you maybe- maybe er- read to me? If that’s- if that’s alright..?”

Bruce was so proud of you. So much progress was made not too long ago and you were already trying to push yourself out of your comfort zone. You were trying so hard, bless you, you precious darling child.

He turned on the bedside lamp and took his seat on the chair once more, picking up the abandoned book.

Truth be told, Bruce was a busy man and he should be leaving because he has patrol in an hour, but he’ll be damned if he can’t carve out time for you. Especially when you asked to see him today.

(Especially when you were finally willing to view him as a father.)

“Would you like me to continue this one or do you want a different book?”

You jerkily nod, “That one’s fine.”

So, he begins to read once more, his voice a calming drawl that washes over you. Your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, and soon you are yawning and drifting off.

Once Bruce is sure you’re asleep he closes the book. With such a soft gaze he gently brushes the hair out of your face, smiling to himself. Then he gets up and turns the light off, walking out of your room and letting the door close with a soft click.

He isn’t surprised to find all of his boys camping out at the door.

He sighs, looking over the lot of them. From the looks of it they’ve been camping out here all day, or have been continuously coming back.

The only one who even has the decency to act sheepish that he’d been caught is Dick, and even then, he barely looks sorry.

Bruce shakes his head fondly at his boys, ushering them all out of the hallway to your room to let you sleep in peace

#reader insert #fanfic of a fanfic #fiction #bruce wayne #platonic yandere #Dad Bruce wayne #i can’t believe i’m posting this #this is very self indulgent #inspiration #Wrote this after reading some of Blugh’s stuff late one night #fanfic #Erm- Blugh if ur seeing this hi?#platonic yandere batfam #Darker undertones #(?) kinda #dark themes #not super tho

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likeadevils · 2 months

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okay it seems like we’re picking up new cult members tonight and i need to tell yall about a man named sir richard owen

so i first stumbled upon him when i was trying to find out what platypus milk tastes like. you would think this would be easily googlable. surely, swiftie tumblr is not the first person to wonder about this, and surely some youtuber, or at least a zookeeper, has tried it and told the tale

to this motherfucking day the only first hand account i could fine was from one sir richard owen in 1832. EIGHTEEN THIRTY TWO. “okay,” i think. “it’s not like platypus milk has dramatically changed taste sense the 1800s. this strange, but still relevant data.”

but no. no. this motherfucker did not sample milk from a wild platypus. he did not sample milk from a captured platypus. dear reader, he did not even sample milk from a living platypus. this motherfucker sampled milk from a taxidermied platypus shipped from australia to england in the 1830s, which means it had at best been dead for months. (for the record, he described it as “drops of a yellowish oil, which afforded neither perceptible taste nor smell, except such as was derived from the preserving liquor”)

after months of platypus milk cult nights, i finally crack and look at this guys wikipedia page. what follows are my favorite qoutes, fun facts, and other miscellaneous bullshit

richard owen coined the term dinosauria, now dinosaur.

he helped create the natural history museum in london, the first of its kind

he once hosted a dinner party inside a giant concrete dinosaur

“Owen was granted right of first refusal on any freshly dead animal at the London Zoo. His wife once arrived home to find the carcass of a newly deceased rhinoceros in her front hallway.”

there is a very large section of his wikipedia page dedicated to his personal beef with charles darwin. not included in that section, his statue in the natural history museum of london, a museum that he opened, was replaced by a statue of charles darwin

“Owen has been described by some as a malicious, dishonest and hateful individual. He has been described in one biography as being a "social experimenter with a penchant for sadism. Addicted to controversy and driven by arrogance and jealousy".”

“An Oxford University professor once described Owen as "a damned liar. He lied for God and for malice".”

“Richard Broke Freeman described him as "the most distinguished vertebrate zoologist and palaeontologist ... but a most deceitful and odious man"”

Charles Darwin called him "Spiteful, extremely malignant, clever; the Londoners say he is mad with envy because my book is so talked about"

He claimed that he was the discoverer of the iguanodaun, when really it was this other guy, gideon mandell. richard published an anonymous paper talking shit about gideon and used his sway in the field to ensure that none of gideon mandalls papers were published in the royal society.

“Owen also resorted to the same subterfuge he used against Mantell [against Charles Darwin], writing another anonymous article in the Edinburgh Review in April 1860. In the article, Owen was critical of Darwin for not offering many new observations, and heaped praise (in the third person) upon himself […] Owen did praise, however, the Origin's description of Darwin's work on insect behavior and pigeon breeding as "real gems".

this is what he looked like

#txt*

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negativeautismrep · 1 year

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there's been a rise in appreciating '12 feral leo and i just want to say, you all have to get into idw right fucking now. the 2012 series was HUGELY inspired by early idw issues, taking many MANY elements from it. (like a lot. enough for '12 to be considered a kind of lowkey inconsistent idw adaptation) and i am telling you, as a certified hamato leonardo expert that his characterization in idw is just. INSANE. this is getting way longer than originally intended when i just wanted to show just how unhinged he is.

( just a few selected moments for a little taste i don't want to spoil anything for ppl who plan to read idw)

this. this one is just UP there in my "top leo moments across the tmntverse" like the entire thing. the build up to this moment in the entire chapter really helps with it, but like just these two single frames. how other than his lil bro everybody is losing their shit. the qoute??? talk about fucking RAW. like just look at this.

"sometimes a leader has to become the things he hates, to take care of the ones he loves." BANGER BANGER BANGER

this one is another favorite that unfortunately needs prior knowledge to make it really stick but just enjoy the absolute batshit, feral behavior of leonardo brutally making the bird mutant essentially flightless.

"get away from her. can't you hear? she's done."

"yeah. i think you're right." HELLO????

there are plenty more moments of hinged leo behavior in idw but just overall. he's sooo good in idw okay he's a great brother and really amps up the parent behavior and i may have talked about only him, but idw has great angst for donnie raph and mikey too (like. GREAT) flawless raph and mikey character building, a fresh reincarnation plot, MOM TANG SHEN, lowkey bad parent splinter, jenny and the foot leo plot everyone alr knows, interesting mutant characters, saki has a sexy kitsune wife, gods exists and idk man it's just an amazing tmnt run go read it. (and then come talk shit about the +100 chapters with me bc they mostly suck </3)

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hopefull-mindset · 8 months

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How do you feel about the difference in Nagito's confession in Japanese and English?

In Japanese he kinda pauses saying something along the lines of 'in love with y...' before going on about hope inside.

But in English it's straight to loving the hope in Hajime.

I was hoping I’d be able to talk about this! If anyone needs a further explanation on the translation error, I recommend reading this first. It’s my favorite explanation because it deconstructs the Japanese to English process thoroughly, and the ambiguity of the whole thing really explains why Hajime was so confused. I’ve seen doubt as to fan translations being right at all, so I hope this helps out.

Now there isn’t many new things to say about a game this old with a large fanbase like this, but with new fans means more information to be spread (and misinformation respectively), so I’d be happy to speak!

UMMM I have no idea if anything I said down below is even what you were asking me, maybe you were just asking me about the decision of changing it, which um I don’t blame the official translators for going straight into it because it’s a fairly ambiguous line and most japanese fans go straight into it too when they qoute it, but official translators are not credible for their care of finer details that could be clearly translated into English, so it’s whatever I guess. Japanese fans also shouldn’t be our guide to consuming media of their language since they’re also just people, and I think it’s probably just easier to quote it like that without it sounding confusing the way it does in text.

This has been practically common knowledge by now to know that it was an aborted love confession, meaning there isn’t much to be said on its own. With all that’s been spread about this, a common misunderstanding is with the use of “Aishiteru” (愛してる) being “more romantic” than any other form of “I like/love you” (Suki/Daisuki), which is not true. It’s much more intense than the other two because of it directly using “Ai” (愛) and in turn used less compared to them because of its intensity. In same line of thinking, usually it’s reserved for serious occasions like marriage, a loved one on their death bed, a final goodbye for someone you care for deeply, etc. but none of it makes it anymore romantic because all three can be used platonically. It’s solely dependent on the context it’s used for.

It’s just like how we use “I love you” in English and how many things it could mean at once, albeit we don’t have three separate ways to express it. Well there’s actually more ways to express love, but you only really need to know these three. I know a lot of sources tend to say “Aishiteru” (愛してる) is romantic, but that’s most likely because you’re looking at sources that are talking about it in a romantic context. It’s not platonic in the sense that you’d go up to your friend and say it, that sends a lot of mixed messages and real odd to attempt, but platonic in that someone you truly have a deep connection with, family member or otherwise.

On the contrary, it’s much more common to use Suki/Daisuki (好き / 大好き) in a love confession and everyday life. Usually you wouldn’t even use “Aishiteru” (愛してる) in your entire life, that isn’t uncommon. So typically the most you’ll see or hear “Aishiteru” (愛してる) used is in fictional japanese media or songs. Using it in a confession like Komaeda almost did is like… imagine going up to someone and telling them that you want to spend your entire life together, meet their parents, fully commit to each other, raise children (if that’s what you want), and die together before you’re even in the relationship or even had your first kiss yet. Like obviously you’re not saying all of that, you might not even mean that, but it’s implied with the intensity of it. It’s that extreme and would definitely confuse someone if you tried. It’s not exactly for someone you just started dating either.

Why does “Ai” (愛) make it so intense though? Compared to other ways of saying love like “Koi” (恋) for example (not gonna explain that one), it’s the purest, most heightened form of expressing love verbally in japanese culture because of the giving and profound nature of it. It’s loving in a way that encases a warm feeling all around you, so painfully genuine yet committed. Its something that’s formed over time with much care, and doesn’t ask for anything back. It’s that big to use, but siamotainously it’s awkward and a little embarrassing to use because it’s practically unsaid irl. There is a lot to personal reservations and such, but as a culture, japan is more reserved with their verbal expressions. This doesn’t speak for the entire country, but just in general actions speak louder than something as literal like “Aishiteru” (愛してる).

I had to go over that before I talked about Komaeda because I don’t want there to be a misunderstanding with what I’m about to say. Sorry to break the news to anymore who was star-eyed after learning what “Ai” (愛) meant in context, but the reason I went over that first with extensive context is because Komaeda is not at all liberated when he uses it. Not only does he use it here in the infamous error of all errors in sdr2, he uses it when he talks about hope, talent, and Junko. Shocking I know, but that’s why I had to go over that “Ai” (愛) is not just romantic love so this will be less awkward for all of us.

Ignoring the oddness of it and how dramatic this usage is, it’s incredibly in-character for Komaeda to use it like that considering his sincere and devoted nature when it comes to hope and talent. He says himself that what he feels is selfless, so that’s going to reflect in his speech, but he uses it so casually that it feels like a joke. It’s a quite poetic expression of love, even with all the cultural context, so it’s fitting. He’s pretty no filter with how he talks about it, but with anything else with Komaeda—it’s more complex than that. While being 100% honest with everything he says, his deep connection with hope and talent is borderline obsessive and that brings into question his relationship with love.

I have many thoughts on how his hope/despair stuff works, but let’s stay on topic this one time because a lot is intertwined. With his usage of “Ai” (愛) with reference of Junko, we should all know he doesn’t love her. He doesn’t love the embodiment of despair and despises it in the same breath he even expressed love for it at all. What he feels for Junko is obsession through and through, but what he feels is still genuine connection, it’s just absurdly twisted. It’s why he still uses it, even though at most what he feels for her is contempt. He “loves” it because it’ll be destroyed for what will truly shine in the end. The connection is deep enough for him to take her hand and finally become one with it.

Junko didn’t twist his concept of love completely, it was already a little off, she exploited the potential of it. I’ve mentioned this point before in my twitter thread, but when faced with the motivations in trials 1, 2, and 3 he cannot see past their motivations other than their “hopes”, rather than their actual reasons: various forms of love. My immediate thought while writing was, “was it not really absolute hope that he needed or wanted, but instead the selfless love people like Naegi or Hajime could wield for others?” I can’t tell you how correct that is, but it holds close to when he said what he wanted was somebody’s love before he died.

To really talk about that with more depth, I’d have to do a separate post about his view of people in general. If you’d like to see that, just let me know. I really would like to stay on topic, and you weren’t exactly asking about that.

Now don’t be weird guys, it doesn’t make his confession any less genuine just because his concept of love is kinda fucked due to only being able to feel it through his obsession with hope since all genuine connection is very limited (non-existent) for him, it just puts into more context as to why Hajime was confused. He’s said something similar about his feelings of hope as early as chapter 1.

Does this mean he really did just meant the hope that sleeps inside Hajime? Well obviously not, otherwise I wouldn’t be talking about this. It also doesn’t mean that his love for Hajime is on the same obsessive level as Hope, talent, or freaking Junko for the matter. Junko was a whole other situation when his mental stability was at its worst. Here’s what actually happened: right when he admitted he wanted somebody’s love, he immediately backpedaled that claiming everything he said was just something he lied about because he started to see that Hajime might want to grow closer and forgive him, and then then started rambling about total bullshit about Hajime killing him and the potential hope in him, even though he just said that he didn’t get the same feeling from him as other ultimates.

Very funny Komaeda, though I don’t think he wasn’t being genuine there. Maybe he did think that regardless of the “both miserable bystanders” comment because he also thought he himself could be ultimate hope in chapter 5. I feel like we knew this part well enough, so I’ll talk about the confession finally. I don’t know what compelled him to try and confess like that, but maybe he was trying to be more honest after what he did to derail him and backtracked again? Who knows.

He was starting with an actual confession, but why did he backtrack the way he did? I have two potential answers. First answer was that he didn’t want to weigh Hajime down with the burden of his feelings, and made it sound like his typical Komaeda bullshit instead. Second answer is that Komaeda doesn’t know how to express his love for Hajime and derailed it to Hajime’s hope instead because that’s the only context he’s used “Ai” (愛) in and is used to that. Him using it here doesn’t make it less sincere in his almost-confession, it’s just… complex.

Maybe if this was his only hint of loving Hajime, his feelings for him would be more controversial as “canon”, thankfully it isn’t! Maybe both answers are right in their own right, it would definitely correlate with my own thoughts about his stupidly complicated justification’s for getting closer to Hajime and making excuses for him. If you haven’t read it, I said that while Komaeda was catching feelings for Hajime as an individual, he made excuses for himself that the reason he cared for him was because he was an ultimate (meaning someone who carried potential Hope), but the only reason he let himself be close to a “supposed ultimate” was because we felt that they were similar and that he had “an air unlike the others”. Which was probably why he was so confused as to why he still cared after finding out what he did in chapter 4 because his justification no longer worked.

Although we know that Komaeda absolutely does love Hajime, I am relieved that they used different expressions of love here (both Suki and Dasuki) to make sure we know he does love him. Can it be used platonically? Sure, but the context does not position it like that.

That’s my um opinion I guess?? Hope you got more than what you were expecting? I wonder why I keep making long posts when it’s not going to get that much attention…. I was originally going to say that what’s important about him using “Ai” (愛) is the genuine intent there and not the romantic implication of it since context matters more, and that hasn’t changed at all, but this turned into a completely different conversation. My bad.

#danganronpa #sdr2 #hajime hinata #komahina #nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito #hinata hajime #sdr2 meta #sdr2 analysis #why is it when Komaeda is faced with genuine love for someone #he just has no idea what to think of it??#maybe part of the reason he never minded being alone before he died is because he always had hope to rely on to be his only true connection #okay i’m done

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ryeriy · 9 months

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don't you remember?

warnings: mentions of sex, fluff

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a/n: the story is told from two different tine zones so yeah. this is inspired by one of my favorite songs called isn't it midnight by fleetwood mac and this is probably my favorite because of it. I'm going to link the song because it is so good.

mentions: @hischierhaze @67-angelofthelordme-67 @huggy-hischier94 @francesfarhadi @trevorzegrizz @cole-mcward48

5:06 PM, ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA

"Dude, I swear she's real! I saw her with my eyes! She's not fake!" Trevor exclaims at his brown-haired friend, who's laughing at him.

"She's not real Trevor, all you've told me is that you met her at a bar and had sex, you said you didn't even see her face and said she was pretty! You also said she was like a hippie and was qoute on qoute, calm, cool and collected. You don't even remember her name! She's not real! Wouldn't you think you'd remember a pretty girl?" He says while laughing at him. Laughing at how delusional he is sounding right now. "Jack, I'm not making this up! I had sex with her!" The delusional dark-haired one exclaims. "Whatever, you're lying." Jack sighs.

9:06 PM, PORTLAND, MAINE

"(Y/n)! You didn't have sex with THE Trevor Zegras. It's impossible!" Exclaimed a dirty blonde, beautiful, young women.

"Um I did! Remember when I went to Anaheim to see my sister? Well I came across an individual who happened to be him and I had sex with him!" I argued against the blonde. "Well yeah I look a bit weird and my personality is a bit questionable but that doesn't mean anything!"

"Well why didn't you get his number (y/n)?" She questioned me, I was looking clueless. "It was late Kat! I had to go to the airport to catch my flight!" "Yeah? Well you had enough time to screw each other but no time to exchange numbers?" Kat explained to me. "When was this anyways (y/n)?" She asked me. "Few months ago..." "And you didn't tell me till now! Jesus (y/n)! You claim you had sex with a famous hockey player and you don't think of telling me?!" Kat yelled at me for answers that I didn't have.

I explained to her what happened. Kat still denied to believe a single word that came out of my mouth. We kept arguing going back and fourth. The ding on her phone silenced the two of us. She checker her phone. "Oh that's weird." She said while making her face. "What is it now Kat?" I say while laughing at the face she made.

5:49 PM, ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA

"Ha! What a coincidence!" Jack says while pointing to his phone. "Yes?" Trevor questions him. "Well remember how I said I had this friend who lives in Maine?" He said. "What about her?"

"Well I texted her saying that you know, you keep blabbering about this girl who doesn't exist. She responded and said lol funny story. She told me that her friend, (y/n), and she is blabbering like you saying she was in Anaheim to vist family and she had sex with Trevor Zegras." Jack sighs.

"Can you ask your friend for her number?" Those are the words that slip from his mouth. "No I told you so?" Jack questioned questions. "What's. Her. Number." He repeats himself. "Fine, I'll ask her."

10:13 PM, PORTLAND, MAINE

"Oh my God, Kat! You will never believe this!" I jump up and down smiling so hard at my phone. "What?" She says while looking over at me. "He texted me! Trevor freaking Zegras texted me!" She rushes over to look down at my phone and she's in shock.

"I didn't think he would do it!" Kat says while sighing. "Do what?" I ask her. "Give him your number!" Kat wasn't making sense. Is she secretly friends with Trevor Zegras and decided not to tell me? "Wait are you friends with Trevor Zegras or something? Is that why he texted me?" I ask her. "No! My friend Jack is thoug-" I cut her off before she finished the sentence. "Jack Hughes?! You're friends with Jack Hughes and didn't mention it!?" I'm shocked. What else is she hiding, she's not Kat. "I didn't think I had to." She says while laughing. I sigh and laugh with her.

"Now, if you excuse me I have a very hot hockey player to talk to." I sa my while laughing and walking into my room. I heard Kat sigh as I walked into my bedroom. She probably turned on the TV or something for her.

6:30 PM, ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA

"Dude! She's actually texting me!" Trevor says to Jack. His face is bright red while he's looking at his phone. "I'll leave you to you it." Jack leaves the room and he leaves Trevor to be in love and fall for this girl he met once. The two started chatting for a long time, a really long time.

y/n <3

Hey, it's Trevor! I don't know if you remember me but we hooked up that one night. I just wanted to say I'm sorry that we didn't keep in touch but I'm texting you now so I hope you see this and we can talk :)

Hey! I'm y/n btw I don't think I introduced myself the first time we met. I'd love to keep in touch with you. You know when I first told people about our interaction they didn't believe me but since my friend, Kat is friends with your friend she had to believe me I guess lol.

Nice to meet you y/n. I was hoping we could talk. If you're not busy right now because if you're busy I can talk later but no rush.

I can tell you talk a lot.

Is that a bad thing?

No I like that about you :)

Thanks....so do you have time to talk...?

For you? Of course I do.

11:46 PM, PORTLAND, MAINE

I've been talking to him for just about an hour. I'm so in love with him already. We've been talking about almost everything you can talk about. All of the sudden a call notification pops up on my phone. Oh wow. I'm shocked. He's calling me. I pinched myself to make sure this whole thing wasn't a dream. I answer the call and hold my phone up to my War.

"Hello, (y/n)." I hear him say. I feel like I just melted from the overload of all this. I feel like a million butterflies were released into my stomach. I feel like my hear is going to explode from how fast it's pounding. "Hey." Is all I can say.

"How's it going pretty girl?" I can hear him smiling over the phone from California. He can probably hear me being a complete boy crazy mess for him.

"Good now that you called." I say while laughing at the end. I can hear him laugh along too.

"So, Jack was telling me his friend was from Maine. I'm assuming that's also where you live?" He asks. I still can't believe this actually happening to me.

"Yeah. She and I are roommates." I reply to him. I hear him let out an Mhm. I'm so anxious waiting for him talk again.

"Isn't it midnight for you? You know since your like on the other side of the world?" I laugh.

"Yeah almost. You do realize I'm not on the other side of the world? I'm just across the country." I say while laughing. I hear him let out a chuckle.

"Same thing." He says with a pause. "I'll let you go since you probably should sleep. I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah, talk to you later." I say back to him as I hang up. I smile while I bring my phone down from me ear. I'm so in love with him.

#Spotify #nhl hockey #nhl x reader #ryeriy #nhl fanfiction #hockey #jack hughes #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader

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