#(again I don’t think it was malicious but I just think it wasn’t the appropriate venue for the announcement)

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

*

[snowmoonwrites]

Hold Me Tight

Tokyo Debunker: Kamurai Jin x Reader Tags: Fluff, established relationnship, So much fluff omg, kinda case fic, there is a creep be warned

The day of the gathering, you were incredibly happy to remember that to the Frostheim ball Jin has gifted you three separate dresses. While you were sure you could have been able to improvise with the artifact cloth, real dresses were still better. After all, while it wasn’t a proper mission, it was adjacent to one. You have been sent to gather information in the ball where only the high society will attend.

Why you? Why not anyone else from Frostheim, who at least belongs there? Those were the first questions out of your mouth too when the Academy requested your presence there. You didn’t even have a background to get into the party. The invitation… You weren’t sure it would hold up given you were a no-name person.

Yet, given your status it wasn’t like you could actually say no to the request. Therefore, here you stood today, looking at Sinostra’s casino hours before you had to get going. You could think of no one who knows human faces better than Romeo. Maybe he also knew how to apply the appropriate makeup. At least you really hoped so. While the ghouls were incredibly helpful in life or death situations dealing with the occult… They weren’t famous for their make-up routines. What you wouldn’t give for just one of them to be a woman as well… 

Given the total male community of ghouls, the best bet you could make was Romeo. Even if he didn’t know how to do so, he had a bunch of employees, near servants. There must be at least one girl who knows how to do it right, right?

Thus, you brought over the dress, the shoes and your meager makeup kit. You have never been one to use it much, the most you know is the basic foundation, blush, mascara, lipstick. You hoped for the best as you walked into Sinostra. You were far from an uncommon sight in the Casino given your work, so no one even glanced your way as you made your way up to the rooms.

As you were led inside Romeo was sitting in his usual chair, ordering people around as usual. Seeing you, he sighed. He knew, if you were not here for your inspector work then you needed something. Not that your inspector work didn’t bring him enough headaches. Why was Taiga so prone to eat anomalies? You awkwardly shuffled your feet.

“Out with it! I don’t have time to dally with you all day long.”

“Umm… Can you do my makeup?” You ask while looking at anywhere but him. “It is for a mission! I have to go to a high class party,” you added hurriedly.

“Do I look like your servant?! Me, Fico doing a BB’s makeup? Do I look insane to you?”

“I could mention your great contribution in the case file?”

And thus an hour later you walked out of the room all dolled up and ready for the party. He even made one of his house members style your hair. You really were grateful for the help. You will not look too out of place at the fancy high-end party.

The Galaxy Express ride, while beautiful, went uneventful as you read the case file once again just to be safe. Your work wasn’t anything strenuous, just gathering intel for one of Frostheim’s missions. According to the file a suspected anomaly was turning up at a few fancy parties. Nothing too malicious happened yet, but a few women would complain about strange noises in the restrooms. Like someone was watching them, but when they called out, only silence. Creepy. Maybe they weren’t wrong to send someone to investigate. It wasn’t every party, so you might just go, try to talk with some of the women and “enjoy” the high end life…

You walked to the party’s place from the closest Galaxy stop, getting out your invitation and steeling yourself to appear composed and regal. No use of all this planning if you can’t sell yourself as someone belonging there. You walked up the steps to the double doors, taking out your invitation and handing it to the butler standing in front of it. 

He looked at the invitation, which you really hoped was actually real and not just a great replica, may the academy not fuck you over like that. Then he looked at you up and down. You were feeling his judging stare. Something was wrong with the invitation? Your clothes? Your makeup? Hair? Oh god.

“I haven’t seen you at one of these parties yet.” He crossed his arms. “I have zero idea where you got the fake invitation but you better give getting in up. You are not the first who brings a convincing replica.”

Oh god! You didn’t look like you belonged, right? No matter how you dress up a pumpkin, it will still only be a pumpkin. And anyone who knows pumpkins will recognize it in a glance. You were near panicking in your mind. How to deal with the situation? Insist you belonged? But if he asks for a family name? What would you say? Puff up and make a scene? Cry? Abort the whole mission and demand the academy come up with better plans?

As you stood there, silent but for a frown adoring your face, a slender arm sneaked around your waist, pulling you into a solid chest. You glance up, you could guess who the hand belonged to by the way it clutched you possessively. Your brain does not betray you, Jin’s unimpressed face looks straight at the butler.

“Is there a problem here?” He pulls you even closer, which you didn’t think was possible.

“I… the girl…” The butler gulped, clearly recognizing the Kamurai family’s son. 

Jin raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. His commanding aura was not less than if he used his stigma to make the man fall to his knees right there. Maybe he wouldn’t even need to use it. You relaxed in his arms, knowing he is going to take care of you.

Not even ten seconds later the butler opened the double doors and let you two in, bowing low as you walked through it. Before you entered the actual ball room Jin stopped to look at you.

“What are you doing here?”

“Working,” you replied casually. There was nothing more to it, you had orders from up high, you had to comply.

“Without an escort? Not even one ghoul?” He frowned, but you knew his ire was not aimed towards you.

“I think I just got myself one.” You slipped from his arm to lay your own onto his, into the typical escorting position, smiling up at him. Well, maybe grinning would have been the better description. He chuckled at your antics, pulling your hand to his lips, laying a gentle kiss onto it.

“If the lady insists.”

You walk into the ballroom with your arms linked, having given him the details of your mission. Given the sensitive nature of the case, he let you go to investigate while he did his own job as the Kamurai family’s heir. Meaning PR, which really was just standing around looking menacing as men old enough to be his father looked humbled by his presence. It was quite funny if you were honest.

You mingled with the women, trying to gain a scrap of information that could help the investigation. Given your penchant for the worst luck, neither of them were one of the victims. They told you some gossip but that is as far as their knowledge went. Today also seemed to be a quiet, calm night. Not a scream from the direction of the restrooms.

Well, at least you got out of the school grounds. A night spent in a luxurious ball room with soft classical music, a bar not far away, finely dressed people you have nothing in common with. Just your idea of a fun night out… Not so much. With little left to do but suffer through the night, you headed to the bar. If you had to be here is case the anomaly, if it is an anomaly, shows up, you were going to get a drink. 

Thus decided, you walked to the bar, plopping yourself down on one of the barstools. The place was fancy, but it lacked the charm and homely feeling you would get at Rui’s bar. As you looked through the menu a drink was placed in front of you. You glanced up at the bartender.

“Courtesy of the man over there.” He pointed to a man sitting not too far away. You grimaced and pushed the drink away, the man looked old enough to be your father, creepy predator. When he saw the drink being taken away, instead of getting the neon lighted huge NO signal, he moved to the stool next to you. Paying him no mind, you looked at the bartender.

“A strawberry daiquiri, please.”

As the bartender set the cocktail in front of you, the guy next to you piped up. What you wouldn’t have given to shut his mouth, preferably with one of the fancy barstools.

“Let me cover that,” he said, all slimy and not at all visibly wanting to gain your favour. Which was still so gross. As if it was his right just because he had money and you looked young and alone. Thankfully the bartender looked at you before doing anything. At least he was a professional, not disregarding you for your age or gender.

“No, write it up to Kamurai’s name,” you said, looking at nowhere but the bartender. Jin said not to worry about any expenses, he had you covered, the academy didn’t give you any money after all. They really expected you to do nothing but investigate, like a good little robot. The bartender nodded and walked away, clearly someone who knew not to argue. 

“Pfff.” The man next to you let out an undignified bark of laughter. “Girly, clearly you think yourself to be someone. Do you know how many try to curry favour from that family? It would be better for you to keep your pretty face down and let me be a gentleman for now.” He leaned in, too close for comfort, you could smell the alcohol on his breath, his closeness repulsing you like no anomaly so far. 

“After that, I can make your pretty lips take in something better than the straw in your drink.” His hand reached out, touching your hair, then sliding down to rest on your thigh, even as you tried to move away. You couldn’t make a scene right now. While your own reputation didn’t matter, you were a nobody either way, Jin might just get the burnt of it if you act on impulse and really beat the crap out of this disgusting pervert. You tried to move as far as possible on your stool, but given its size, you couldn’t put too much distance between the two of you.

Diplomacy, diplomacy, you repeated in your mind. You will not pour your drink onto this waste of space. It might get on your dress, you’d loath to stain it. But, well it will be burnt either way after this man put his disgusting hands on it. Maybe you should pour the drink on his head. No, diplomacy, polite but firm.

“I do not wish for either to happen. So if you would unhand me.” You tried to push his hand away. Ew, you better wash it well after this. But his hand wouldn’t budge, no, it only squeezed you tighter. THIS TRASH! You felt your temper rising like the Sun every dawn, steadily reaching new heights as the predator only smirked at you, letting his hand wander higher, leaning in too close.

“Playing hard to get, I see. Don’t worry I am good at making brats like you beg for mercy. Preferably on my co—” He couldn’t finish his sentence as your drink landed on him at the same moment his ass hit the floor. But it wasn’t you who dumped it on him. The man looked shocked then enraged.

Yet, he couldn’t say a word as your knight in shining armor, khm nice suit, saved you for the second time this night. You might have to rethink your decisions. You are not a damsel in distress but you couldn't stop your heart from beating faster and feeling relieved that he came to your side when you were in need. You might just fall harder for him. Was that even possible?

“Get your hands off her,” Jin growled at the man. The man on the floor couldn’t utter a word in the presence of Jin. Like someone cut his tongue out. He clearly got the memo, finally, that you weren’t joking with having The Kamurai family cover your expenses. With a swift motion Jin put his black card on the bar, signaling to the the bartender to swipe it for your drink.  

“Oi, it was the girl who came onto me. What can I do with such a needy bitch? Not play along. She is a total gold digger.” The man tried to stand up, his bruised ego not letting him take the reasonable defeat. Tried, being the important word, as Jin let his feet fall onto the man’s hand, exerting enough force to make him fall back down. As he put pressure on it, the middle aged man winced and grimaced.

“You better shut your ugly mug.” He motioned for the guards. After all, this was a party for the filthy rich. Of course there were security guards. When they got there, Jin lifted his leg off the man.

“Take this trash away.” When they lifted the man Jin leaned closer to him. “If I see you anywhere near my girlfriend again, losing that disgusting hand would be the kindest thing I will do to you.”

As the man was unceremoniously thrown out Jin turns to you, offering his hand so you could comfortably get off the barstool. When you did, he pulled you in, fixing a stray strand of hair, gently tucking it behind your ear. 

“Let’s fix your dress, some of your drink splashed on it.”

You glanced down. And truly, a red stain was on your dress. You were so entertained by Jin putting the fear of god into that pervert that you didn’t even register the coldness. You nodded and let yourself be led to the back.

Given the place’s fanciness, it was no surprise that one of the restrooms had a unisex room that seemed to exist for emergency uses, such as a spilled drink, an uncomfortable feet due to high heels… The emergency truly had a different connotation in high society… Not that you were complaining right now, given that you have a so-called emergency.

Jin closed the door after stepping into the room, following you. You looked down at your dress. It didn’t seem salvageable to your eyes. And given the stain’s location, you couldn’t wash it without taking it off. Then you remembered. You didn’t wear a bra! The dress let your breasts be free of bras but now you need to take it off. Seeing you hesitate, Jin lifted one of his eyebrows at you.

“You see… I have nothing under it…” You blushed and looked away. Then you heard rustling. Glancing up, you saw Jin take off his suit’s coat, holding it out for you.

“Put this on then.” You nodded, reaching for the zipper. Which decided to be uncooperative! You could pull it up just a few hours before! Why couldn’t you unzip it now?

Seeing your predicament, Jin reached for the zipper.

“May I?” You nodded, holding your breath as the zipper slipped down, the dress following after it’s path towards the floor.

“I’m sorry, I ruined the dress you gave me.” 

“I can buy you a hundred more. And it was me who spilled your drink on it.” He laid a gentle kiss onto your shoulder, following it up with laying his coat onto you so you are no longer half naked in the room. You stepped out of the circle of your dress. Jin took it in his hands, looking at the stain with annoyance. Whether he was annoyed about staining it himself, or the things leading up to that, you didn’t know.

“Let’s just toss it and take one of the provided substitutes. They are not the best, but they should do until we get back to the Academy.” He tossed the expensive dress into the trash as if it was nothing. Then he walked into the inbuilt closet room. You let him do the choosing, he did a good job last time, you believed in him. The filthy rich really had everything. The organizer seems to have thought of everything! Kudos to them!

Being left alone, you looked around the room, holding the coat together to keep your skin covered. While it wasn’t cold, it wasn’t the best temperature to be bare chested in. The interior was decorated lavishly but still elegantly. A couch, a few armchairs, a coffee table as well. Two doors, one obviously opening to the closet, the other to the restroom. You sat down on one of the armchairs, no reason to stand around awkwardly.

After a while Jin walked out, holding a blue dress in his hands. Clearly he wasn’t above dressing you in his own colours. Who said he isn’t a possessive boyfriend? You took the offering, smiling at him, no doubt you will look good in it.

“Go put it on, then we can go home.” He lifted your head gently by your chin, planting a quick kiss to your forehead. 

You walked into the restroom, ready to change and get out of this place. But something got you on high alert. Something seemed to be strange. As you put Jin’s coat down to put on the dress, you saw it. Someone, rather something from the chill running down your spine, was watching you. And then it started coming closer. Too fast. You have nothing to defend yourself with!

Nothing else to do, with fear chilling you, you screamed! Half naked or not, this wasn’t what you signed up for! You were supposed to get intel! Not run into the obvious anomaly! Because of course you would run into it! Because your life was one big joke, that’s why!

Hearing your scream Jin immediately ran into the room, sword already drawn. He didn’t hesitate to slash it in two. Clearly this one shall go into the case file as “destroyed” as well, not like you cared today. When Jin deemed it dead enough, he pulled you to him.

“Clearly I shouldn’t leave you alone for a minute. You have an uncanny way of getting into trouble.”

“Hey, this was clearly not my fault. I didn’t sign up to play bait tonight for whatever this was.” You pulled his coat back onto yourself buttoning it up. Clearly today wasn’t the day to wear dresses… 

“Hold onto me.” He wrapped his arm around you and slashed the veil of reality into two, stepping through to his dorm room. You should have used the Galaxy Express to come back, but this was honestly more convenient, faster, and safer as well. You weren’t about to complain for a free taxi ride back to the Academy.

But his dorm room was admittedly a lot colder than the ballroom was. Seeing you shiver, Jin pulled you towards his bed.

“Stay the night? I’ll even let you wear one of my warm shirts.” He lifted your hand to his mouth. Laying a kiss onto it before playfully biting into it. You chuckled at his seduction. You wouldn’t be able to sleep much anyway if you went back to your dorm, while this was not too dangerous compared to a few cases that you managed to live through… You felt way too vulnerable, nearly naked in front of the anomaly.

“Only if you won’t complain when I hog all of the blanket,” you countered, already fluffing his pillow up to your liking.

“Deal.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You buried your finger in Jin’s silky hair as he peppered your naked shoulders with kisses.

“I forgot to ask. How did you know it was me in front of the doors at the entrance? I can’t have been the only one to have that dress.”

He bit into your shoulder, as if disagreeing with even the thought of not recognizing you.

“Ridiculous. I would recognise you anywhere.” He planted a kiss on your forehead. “From a glance.” A kiss on your cheek. “By the scent of your skin.” On the tip of your nose. “By the colour of your eyes” On your eyelids. “By the feel of your hands in mine” Another on your neck. “By the sound of your heartbeat.” Another kiss on your lips. “Anywhere. Anytime.” He intertwined your fingers with his, pulling your back against his chest. Lulling you to sleep with his steady breathing, content in his arms. Knowing you have arrived home.

[frequent-demisexual-distress]

Bowser x Reader - Expectations

You might not expect it on your first look at the massive koopa, but you’d come to find that he was quite a gentleman. Bowser was, after all, a monarch and ruled his own nation - sure, he may have ruled it primarily as a warlord, but the point still stands. For example, despite his size, whenever he was in your presence, he walked smoothly. It was evident that he took great care to ease his rumbling gait into something more slow and steady for you - the last thing he ever wanted was to frighten you, and he always did his utmost to cater to your comfort. 

However, when you told him that you wanted children of your own, suffice it to say he lacked composure.

He was flabbergasted, first. He just stared at you, unblinking for a moment, as you brushed your hair in your, now shared, bedroom vanity. “I know it’s a lot to ask - and believe me, I love Junior with all of my heart and consider him my child as much as he’s yours,” You reaffirm to him with a tired smile and somewhat defeated sigh, turning slightly to face him. “It’s just, I’ve always wanted to have the full parental experience with a child of my own, too!” 

He’s silent, and you notice that he’s standing now, and his gaze has shifted away from you, locked on the floor ahead of your shared bed. Your weak smile falters and you try to will away the feeling of shame bringing heat to your face, looking away from him again. You had been afraid to bring it up - not because you feared him, but because you never wanted to make him feel that he or Junior weren’t enough for you. You had simply been hit hard with those parental pangs as of late, and they didn’t seem to cease on their own as they used to - and, presumptuous though it may have been, part of you had dared to hope that he’d feel the same way, or at least been happy that you wanted that experience with him. 

His hard, contemplative stare into nothing did little to comfort you; you knew he wasn’t acting maliciously, though. Open expression was something that he took very seriously, and he was meticulous in his choice of words and actions (you knew that this was in part due to your relationship, and in part due to his very problematic past “relationship” with the princess of the Mushroom Kingdom). He was thinking hard and trying his best to choose an appropriate response that would be honest and direct while still being caring - something you did truly appreciate about him. Still, the anticipation could be very difficult.

Finally, as you sit on your side of the oversized bed and carefully extend a hand to rest on one of his, he looks at you; it’s clear that he’s troubled, though with what part specifically you can’t be sure. “Y/N..” He began, voice low and tone soft, though never lacking it’s signature reverb, “I.. Do you think I could be a good father?”

You almost gasp aloud at his question, and at how quickly his expression shifts into one of shame and anxiety. He pulls his hand away and begins fidgeting with his claws - scraping them against one another seemed to be a method of self-soothing for him; whether he preferred the sensation or the almost blade-like sound more, you weren’t sure. 

“King Bowser Koopa!” You start, voice concerned and half-chastising. You stand up on your bed, wobbling slightly (only to be steadied by massive but considerate hands).”You already are a good father! You are Junior’s world!” you exclaim, running a hand through his hair and stroking the scales of his large head soothingly, “We both love you more than anything - but if you don’t believe me, just ask Kamek! Even his uptight shell can tell what an amazing father you are!” 

His eyes close and he exhales slowly, leaning into your touch and gently pulling you closer. “Thank you.. I just.. I remember my own childhood - my own father,” He explains quietly, his voice sharp with bitterness at a burden that no one should have to bear, especially a child. You press a feather-light kiss to his snout, prompting him to look up at you again. You nod, and he returns it, accepting your silent invitation to continue. “I think the only thing I’ve ever feared is becoming half as bad a parent as he was,” He finally mumbles out, eyes flitting to yours, searching for something behind your beautiful irises.

You climb into his lap, taking him quite by surprise, before hugging his large chest as tightly as you could. “My sweet Bowser - you’re already twice the father he could have ever dreamed of being, just by being you,” You say, voice radiating a much needed warmth of comfort through the cold-blooded king’s heart. “And if you ever doubt that, you take one look at the happy, healthy prince that you single-handedly raised for so long,” You continue, leaning back just enough to meet his gaze, “If we never had a child of our own, I would be still be more than content just to be your partner, and to be in Junior’s life.”

He blinks furiously, big bulbous tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes, but before he can raise a fist to rub them away, you raise a smaller hand to gently wipe them away as they begin to slide down his cheek. Instead, he uses that larger hand to hold your own close to his cheek, offering him some stability as quiet sobs choke their way out of his throat. Crying was still hard for him, but he had come so far in the time that you’d been together; you couldn’t be more proud of him.

You were just about to suggest that the two of you cuddle for a while when your bedroom door crashes open - the culprit being none other than your stepson; he looked so much like his father, except when he cried, at least at home, he did little to hide it. You coo quietly at him and extend your arms, still in your husband’s lap, encouraging the sobbing boy to join you. 

“Junior, baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, making sure to cradle his spiky shell carefully while you wiped at his tears; grateful for you taking the lead, you observe your partner wiping his eyes hastily before clearing his throat.

“I-I had a ni-ightmare,” the smaller terrapin forces out, hiccuping through his words. “No-no one was he-ere, an-and I was being chased by-y monsters!”

You frown and offer him quiet comforts, petting his head and rubbing his shell, when you feel your husband’s large arms squeezing the both of you firmly. “I’m sorry, Junior,” He rumbles, voice confident but caring, “But that’s the thing with nightmares - they aren’t real. Y/N and I would never ever let any monsters chase you. If they did, we’d never let you face them alone.”

The boy nods and, still fighting hiccups, asks how many monsters his dad had beaten up before - and you smile wide, fighting a giggle as Bowser easily slips into a grand persona who had apparently slain too many monsters to count, telling his son any number of questionable but entertaining and impressive tales. Now and then the boy would look to you, asking if it were true or looking for some form of affirmation, and of course you gave it each time, even adding some details to the stories now and again. 

Watching your husband stumble and quickly improvise to add in your contributions was amusing enough on it’s own, but when his son falls asleep in the both of your arms, watching how hesitant he is to move at all is almost even more entertaining.

Eventually, you’re able to get him to lay back and prop your stepson in the middle of the bed. You turn out the lights and kiss both of their foreheads before climbing onto your side of the large bed. As you close your eyes, and slowly feel yourself slipping into sleep, you hear the unmistakable chur from your husband’s chest and a quiet promise in his deep voice, “I think we should give Junior a sibling, my dear Y/N - whether we adopt or conceive somehow, I swear that I’ll meet your expectations.”

It seemed he thought you asleep, so it made sense that he’d stiffen when you responded quietly, “You already have, my love.”

[dirtbra1n]

WAIT ONE MORE I JUST REMEMBERED. Prev pres tashiro hanzawa. All three or any combination Whatever yknow.

TWELVE DAYS AGO NOW. answering to cope with the fact that I’m being held back from tashiro post by things like Class and Final projects and The horrors.

all of it makes sense. all of it compels me. you’re not insane and neither am I. I’m gonna reread Love & Passion for this. I have a feeling this is gonna come back to shoulders again sorry sunnfish. also I’m maliciously scanning through the note in my phone for something appropriately damaging and not big enough to be too spoilery This is such a fun slippery slope we’re on I sure hope I don’t subject us all to gravity! ha ha

I don’t know. I wouldn’t worry about it

two sentences in did you guys know this is fucked up Oh really fucked. what the hell did they put in this Call me prev prez the way I’m representative of an insurmountable barrier

was gonna hold off until I finished reading I changed my mind

facing an insurmountable barrier

dipping a toe in

“tagged as a potential future president”

^ naïveté

He was so much better than I was that I thought I might pass out from the sheer skill difference. This wasn’t one of those things where the more anxious I got, the more mistakes I made. No, it was a simple matter of one player being impossibly, crushingly better than the other.

Hey I’m gonna throw up maybe

tashiro thinking, I don’t have anywhere else I want to be. I like ping pong. tashiro thinking, verbatim, I just couldn’t accept the logical conclusion of those facts. Something inside wouldn’t let me.

I clenched my fists, a yawning, lonely feeling of loss opening within me.

I don’t get it. What happened to the loneliness?

hey I’m back. Guys seriously did you know how fucked up this all is

like I guess if I have to pin in down short form. prev prez -> tashiro = He sees something in you. in his sights from the start. a genius worthy of being in his inner circle.

and tashiro -> prev prez = an insurmountable wall; a high wall to scale. walk into club—rabbit, meet fox. It’s because I want to win. I want to beat him.

and prev prez -> masato = bearer of world’s gravity, inheritor of legacy. the next president. the next guy to pass you off to. speculatively: someone who’s seen a lot of you. speculatively: someone you might never show yourself to again.

and vice versa masato -> prev prez = someone who can shoulder responsibility without so much as a buckled knee. all the earth’s mass pressed into the world’s most loaded Yes, sir.

and of course tashiro -> masato = the next guy to be passed off to. Man, he sounds so cool saying that. Have a warm drink and put your feet up. run until you can’t anymore. run until you get your bearings. run after him. fast guy, that guy.

and of course masato -> tashiro = I hear great things about you all the time. [GUNSHOT] You’re the person I’m trusting in the most. [GUNSHOT] Not that I ever had any doubts about it. [GUNSHOT] did you know that the people you look out at can themselves look in? fucked up, isn’t it?

Love & Passion already this much. AND shirahama is there. god damn it. you notice how those got kinda longer. I’m sure that means nothing.

where was I going with this. that victorian conversation chair again, I guess.

and also the psychological homoerotic political drama in the ping pong club. some other stuff. prev prez is killing me. reblog to kill me faster Okay enough

[angelbvn]

Hello I apologize in advance if my question is impolite / offensive in any ways ( it hard for me to remark that ) but are you japanese ? Because I do not see any mention of race in your pinned post ( which is fully fine of course ) and I do not want to follow people how are appropriating asian / japanese names because of the aesthetic around it. ( the name Yuki is a japanese name from what I personally know, and I think that Kirai is too but I'm not too sure about that )

Also I'm asking if the body is japanese / asian not if in the innerworld you are ( because I know it can be different ), because in my opinion even if an alter is a different race / origin in the innerworld they shoudn't go by / use names that doesn't align with the body race / origin but that just my personal opinion.

I apologize once again if that question is mean / offensive in any way my intent isn't to be malicious I just want to make sure to not follow people that do stuff that I do not agree with. ( I do like your blog quite a lot through )

On that I wish you a good day !

ah! it isn’t!! dw dw, the body isn’t Japanese it’s actually Chinese!! we/the body were born in Beijing and then orphaned / fostered and moved around and then eventually adopted! i don’t put the body’s race in just because i don’t think it’s necessary? but i understand where you’re coming from! we tend to use Japanese names more often due to us having a stronger Japanese influence(?) if that makes sense! we do celebrate Chinese traditions with our adoption group, but we just weren’t around Chinese stuff to much once we were adopted (by our very old school very white caretakers and our fucked up relatives :D)

anyway— it wasn’t offensive! thank you for asking :3

[lucienaskblog]

Ooooh okay that makes sense!

I figured it was something trauma related because of how he reacts but I was also like... Neuvi is so sweet he wouldn't hurt anyone 😭

Thank you for the clarification!

Do you think there's any room for redemption? Like could this version of Neuvillete change and apologize and maybe try to fix things?

Idk what happened between the two of them tho so maybe that's not possible. It's just so hard to imagine Neuvillete being any kind of a bad person

//well, I’m not sure.

Cuz like In his story Neuvillette wasn’t purposely being malicious, he attempted to take Lucien in and treat him like he does Furina… but the way he went about it was absolutely not appropriate. Genuinely I struggle to explain it because I don’t want to trigger anyone but…

Child labour laws exist for a reason. That’s all I’ll say.

Again, neuvillette genuinely is still very sweet and gentle but what he did wasn’t okay… yk? As for redemption…? I doubt it? Idk I haven’t gotten that far yet

But I also don’t like the idea the fandom has that he’s an uwu baby…like no he’s not like dottore or anything but like, he’s still just a dragon guy not an angel

…

Being real I originally just made him because I have severe Haikaveh brainrot and made like a fan kid out of it, and then I gave him a backstory and it snowballed from there… I honestly expected people to not care and the blog go dormant pretty quickly. I do appreciate the support tho! Just know, I’m just a guy playing dolls lol

[theoraekenapperciation]

Firstly, I’d like to thank you for organising and running Theo Week. He’s my favourite, besides Liam of course and the prompts look amazing. However with such a short time frame to prepare (10 days!) I won’t be able to participate.

I really do hope the event is a success and that it does comes back next year and I hope a more appropriate time frame is given to prepare. Obvs, I know there was a poll and I wasn’t one of those who voted for next week. But if you look at other Appreciation Weeks (Liam, Mason) and other events like Scottuary and Rare Pair Week, most of those had almost 2 months between announcements and commencements.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful and really don’t mean to cause any malicious intent, I just wanted to put my voice out there.

hey I’m glad you like the prompts & absolutely no need to worry about sounding malicious, I totally get it! I did debate setting the date back but I figured I’d let the poll decide, and even afterwards I still debated whether or not to make it later to give people more time but again, I felt like I had to honor the poll since that was how I said I’d decide the dates

I do plan on coming back next year to run another theo event and I’ll be sure to leave some more time in between everything

& I’ve been thinking of running a small Christmas event that I’ll announce sometime in October so hopefully that’ll be more time appropriate for you

[fireflylitsky]

Another beautiful gift from my lovely and skilled art friend without socials, so I post this on her behalf. We are probably the only two MadaKaku shippers on the planet, but PLEASE prove me wrong XD Loosely inspired by the snippet below featuring young buck Kakuzu just after his defeat by Hashirama when he meets Madara for the first time (and hates him) Rating: E Word Count: 680 Characters: Madara, Kakuzu

Kakuzu lies still, the coldness of the river is not quite enough to numb the pain of defeat, but it does something for his wounds. That will have to do. He’s washed up onto an embankment, and for a while he just exists there like any of the stones and waterlogged debris around him. 

Returning to his village after failing to defeat Senju Hashirama is not something he wishes to do, but after an appropriate amount of wallowing, he decides it is time. Dying would have been easier, but here he is, pushing to his feet with a grunt.

“Finally. I was beginning to think he actually killed you.” The unfamiliar voice comes from behind. It is deep and low and has an obnoxious amount of arrogance lofting it up. 

Turning to look, ready to snap, the growl building in the back of his throat catches there and he halts. “Uchiha Madara,” he realizes aloud from appearance alone. 

"Oh good, so you know who I am," Madara says with casual relief. "That saves me some time.”

Though they’ve never met, Kakuzu knows enough–what he looks like, his bond with the Hokage–and he can only come to one conclusion about his presence here and now. “Come to finish the job then?”

To his absolute anger and puzzlement, this man actually laughs. It's not exactly malicious, but it's plenty to pit some fresh rage in Kakuzu's gut. Madara doesn't seem to notice or care about that though, he just shakes his head and pushes off the tree he’s been leaning against. “If only,” he sighs, “but no. He sent me to check on you, actually."

Kakuzu makes a noise of disgust. His defeat was dishonorable enough, this is just getting ridiculous. The last thing he wants is the Senju sending his Uchiha dog to check up on him.

"Putting you up against the Hokage like that?" Madara pauses to draw out a long whistle at the apparent severity of this. "Someone definitely wants you dead," he points out matter-of-factly, examining his nails.

Scowling, Kakuzu takes a challenging step towards him, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg. “I was chosen for my strength.”

"No," Madara says, slow to tear his attention away from the hangnail he's picking at, but when finally meets Kakuzu's gaze, he smiles as some mockery of sympathy. “You weren’t. You were chosen to die.”

Kakuzu is certain he will never meet anyone more infuriating in his lifetime. “What do you care, anyway?”

“Oh, it’s not so much that I care,” he muses. “Hashirama, well… he can be quite curious. As for me, let’s call it bored.”

Far from how he envisioned this night going, Kakuzu takes a moment to stare and process. “So you’re not upset with the fact that I tried to assassinate him?”

“Heavens no.” He's positively flippant and there's that smug look again, like Kakuzu could not be any less of a threat as he folds his arms over his chest plate with a shrug. “It was a cute try, don’t get me wrong, but no. I wasn’t exactly worried, Kakuzu."

Kakuzu just stares back with a dumb, blank expression because never in his life has he been spoken to like this. Before he can even think of a response beyond some feral growling, Madara is goading him again. 

"Do I have that right? It is Kakuzu, no?”

If the flaring of his nostrils and clenched fists at his sides are any indication, Kakuzu is, in a word, mad.

"Calm down," Madara offers with a sigh that verges on laughter, stepping closer. "I know you're angry. I would be too. I almost am for you." He pauses and smiles, not in any friendly way, taking note of Kakuzu's deep set scowl. "Almost."

"Keep your pity, Uchiha," Kakuzu manages to grit through his teeth. 

"You know who I am," Madara says. "Then you should also know that I don't give pity often. So enjoy it, really. Think of it as my gift to you."

Every word that comes out of this man's mouth makes Kakuzu want to end him.

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin Introduces his Jedi Babies (and Himself)

Context:  Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Warnings for: canon-typical dismemberment, unfortunately-aimed puppy crushes

Word count: 5,839

-------------------------

The first time a Jedi meets a Skywalker, it’s on Bandomeer.

The planet is close to Mandalorian space. Finding someone associated with Mandalore is, technically, not that surprising. There are even Mandalorian operations on the planet.

What is surprising is the fact that the person from Mandalorian space is an unfamiliar Jedi Knight who is utterly unstoppable.

(Obi-Wan Kenobi has no way of knowing how similar his experiences are to what might have been, on this planet. Mandalore has been interfering in operations here ever since Ylliben Skywalker started reporting visions about the coming catastrophe. Where that interference has helped or hurt... well. There’s no way to know.)

(Is there?)

When Xanatos shows up and starts taunting Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, there’s a giggle from the doorway.

All three have to turn to look at the individual in question.

Mid-twenties, leaning against the doorframe, slim but strong, covered in dark fabric and half a set of armor. A scar by one eye, well-kept hair, and a smirk that could burn the longest fuse. A lightsaber, unlit, in one gloved hand.

This man is... very attractive, Obi-Wan thinks. This is not an appropriate thought for the situation. Obi-Wan thinks he can maybe blame it on the exhaustion.

“No, no, keep going,” the stranger says, sounding like there’s a laugh stuck in his throat. He waves dismissively. “Let’s, ah, let’s hear the master plan. Good ranting voice, maybe a six out of ten on the ‘I’m better than you’ and a four on the actual intimidation. You can do better.”

“Excuse me?” Xanatos hisses, sounding incredibly malicious to Obi-Wan’s ears. “Just who do you think you are?”

“And now you’re overselling it,” the stranger sighs. “Are you new at this? You seem new at this.”

“I would... also like to know who you are,” Master Jinn admits, shifting uncertainly as he tries to keep both du Crion and the stranger in his sights.

“I’m just your friendly neighborhood Jedi Knight, here to fight darksiders because... that’s my life, apparently,” the man says, looking down at his arm for some reason. He shakes his head and looks up at them with a bright grin. “Do you need some help, Master Jinn?”

“You still haven’t told us your name.”

“This is true,” the knight says. “That said, I’ve been told by my boss to explicitly avoid naming myself while on this mission for a variety of reasons.”

“Your... boss,” du Crion drawls. “Not the Council, then.”

“Current supervisor,” the stranger offers as correction, completely unconcerned. “It’s a complicated situation, don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t worry about nonentities.”

The man purses his lips like he’s trying very, very hard not to laugh again. It’s very mocking. “Sure, kid.”

Xanatos has had his lightsaber out ever since Obi-Wan and Master Jinn entered the room, but he does one of those fancy, meant-to-be-intimidating one-handed saber twirls as he turns to face the Knight.

The man’s smirk widens. “You do realize you’re going to lose, right? C’mon, kid--”

“I’m older than you!”

“I did like zero research on you as a person, just your many and varied crimes; how old are you?”

Du Crion’s face goes pinched. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Ah, yeah, no, I’m older,” the knight says. “Only a few years, but I’m also a delightfully obnoxious little bastard who ages real slow for, uh, reasons--”

Obi-Wan is fascinated. This man is very strange. And very pretty.

Obi-Wan may be light-headed. Is he bleeding? Blood loss would explain this.

Obi-Wan isn’t bleeding. Damn.

“--anyway, I’m sure I’ve got a more interesting life with more mature experiences than you,” the knight says. “So even if I wasn’t older in body, I’d be older in spirit.”

The knight’s entire sense of being carries such an air of banthashit that Obi-Wan can barely believe it. It’s almost impressive. Obi-Wan wonders how often this man just opens his mouth and immediately gets punched in the face.

“You talk a lot for a man in someone else’s domain.”

“Hey, look on the bright side,” the knight says. “At least I’m not flirting with you. That’s what my master did with almost every darksider we met except his grandmaster.”

Du Crion pauses.

Obi-Wan has the distinct feeling that he and Master Jinn have lost any control they might have, at any point, had over this situation. They hadn’t had much control in the first place, but anything they did have is squarely in the stranger’s court right now. The silver lining to that is that du Crion is thoroughly distracted and has also lost some control of the situation.

“Besides,” the man continues, completely ignoring the very red lightsaber that is being very obviously readied for his death. “This is not that big of an advantage for you. I mean, hey, the fancy central console that can only be reached by skinny walkways with no railings are a nice touch, all chromed metal and minimal lighting, very dramatic, but there’s no lava. I’m not, like, chained to a rock in the middle of an arena for a public execution at the hands of starving animals the size of a fighter ship. You’re threatening to kill me personally instead of standing in the most expensive box of the theater, sipping your wine and congratulating yourself on step one of a plan that has another fifty-thousand steps and no end in sight. You--”

“Is there a point to this?”

“I’m just saying, I’ve been in worse situations by better darksiders than you. This is sad. You’re sad. Try harder.”

Obi-Wan makes a little noise in the back of his throat. Nobody seems to notice, but Master Jinn does put a hand on his shoulder. That’s nice.

“I don’t have any interest in setting up a public execution.”

“What kind of a Sith wannabe are you?” the knight asks, tilting his head. Obi-Wan distantly notes that his hair is longer than initially assumed; it’s just held back and curled. “Public executions are a whole thing. It’s like you’re not even trying. Tell me you’ve at least got vague plans to hand me off to a pirates instead of killing me so you can make some comment about me not even being worth the effort.”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” du Crion asks, his voice the kind of forced casual level nonsense that shows he’s actually very, very frustrated. Obi-Wan could almost believe that du Crion is as uninterested as he’s pretending to be.

“If I was trying to get myself killed, I’d... pick a fight with the Trade Federation, maybe? I mean, I survived that when I was nine but they’d probably take me more seriously this time.” The knight taps at his chin. “I don’t even know where the actual Sith is, but--”

“There are no more Sith,” du Crion scoffs.

Oh, the knight looks pitying now. Obi-Wan likes that much more than he should. It just really suits the man’s face.

Quin’s going to make so much fun of him later.

“I have fought multiple Sith,” the man says, slowly and clearly, as though explaining something to a child. “My master fought more than that. I lost my arm to a Sith when I was nineteen. You can say they’re gone, but I don’t trust like that.”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” du Crion says, rolling his eyes. “It has been a thousand years since the Sith were wiped out. Much as I’d like them to still be around, I’m not going to--”

“Oh!” the knight exclaims. “You’re lying! You do think they’re back, this whole mess is you auditioning.”

Du Crion stares at the man as though he’s lost what few marbles he had. “Excuse me?”

“You want to be the next Sith Apprentice,” the man says, cheerfully unconcerned by the mounting tension in the air. “That’s adorable. Well, no, actually, it’s very bad, both for you and for everyone else, and now it means I can’t just kill you in battle like I was planning because the Jedi are going to need you for information. Blast.”

Du Crion’s eyes widen. It is not in fear, but in incredulity. Obi-Wan thinks that it’s all in the eyebrows and the tight, befuddled smile. “You were planning to kill me, Jedi?”

“I mean... yeah, kinda,” the knight says, shrugging. “Quick and clean option, that.”

This time, Master Jinn is the one that makes a disbelieving noise that both of the bitchy twenty-somethings ignore.

“You’re a Jedi,” du Crion points out, entirely pleasant.

“...yes,” the man says, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Technically.”

Du Crion is very much distracted by this. “Technically?”

The man wiggles a hand. “Arguments can be made. I certainly was trained as a Jedi and consider myself to be one. My knighting was according to protocol, and at the Temple. Technically.”

“...but?” Master Jinn prompts.

The knight smiles like he’s got something very spicy in his mouth and is unwilling to admit it’s too much for him. “But nothing! Don’t worry about it. There’s a fight to be had with a Sith wannabe who doesn’t realize he’s not going to measure up.”

“Arrogant,” du Crion accuses.

“No,” the knight immediately says. “You just don’t fight a galactic war without learning which opponents are actually going to kill you.”

Obi-Wan leans into Master Jinn’s side, his legs feeling a little too much like jelly. He whispers, “I have so many questions.”

“As do I, Padawan,” Master Jinn mutters back, and something in Obi-Wan’s heart twists. He’s a padawan! Master Jinn’s actually going to go through with it!

The fight does actually happen, at that point. The knight lights his saber and leaps forward, flashing through Djem So movements without a moment’s hesitation. For all the trash talk and boasting, the fight isn’t actually over very quickly. Du Crion is good, even without having had a chance to spar against a real person since he left the Order. Power flows around him, dark and heavy and sharp in ways that the Force usually isn’t, and the red saber snaps through the air with a speed Obi-Wan can barely track. Xanatos du Crion is, without question, danger incarnate in this moment.

The unknown knight is better.

There are attempts at banter, mostly by the stranger. Du Crion is too focused on the fight to bother responding. Obi-Wan just clings to Master Jinn, trying to stay awake and aware. It’s difficult, given the past few days, and even with help from the Force, he’s flagging.

The way the knight moves is... captivating, though.

(Quinlan’s going to laugh at the top of his lungs, later. Obi-Wan’s going to blush and stutter and bury his face in a pillow, and Bant’s going to pat his back like the amazing friend she is, and Quin’s just going to laugh, like an asshole.)

The fight doesn’t end cleanly. The knight cuts du Crion’s saber in half and, in the same movement, cuts the man’s hand off.

Obi-Wan’s seen too much blood in the last few days for it to shock him, but the smell is... unpleasant.

“I don’t suppose either of you carries Force-nullifying cuffs?” the knight asks, holding his saber to du Crion’s neck with an expression that is amused and satisfied in equal measure.

“No,” Master Jinn says. He seems... very bothered. Well, du Crion was his student once. Obi-Wan can’t imagine he’d be very calm if he had a student that went dark and started killing children. “Was cutting off his hand really necessary?”

“I feel like half my fights end with either someone dying or someone losing a limb,” the knight muses. “Sometimes that limb is my own, even!”

Obi-Wan isn’t sure if the man is manic or just trying to throw them off their rhythm. It probably doesn’t matter.

“Okay, I have Force-nullifying cuffs of my own,” the man says. “But these things are expensive as hell, and they weren’t paid for by the Order, so just giving them to you isn’t really on the table. That said... my ship kind of got shot down on the way here. If you could give me a ride off-planet--”

“Our ship was also shot down.”

The knight blinks at him, and then kicks du Crion in the hamstring. It’s not a very hard kick, but du Crion shoots him a look of offense that’s probably justified. Getting kicked when one is already down is never a great feeling.

“Stop shooting people,” the knight scolds.

Obi-Wan feels vaguely like he’s having a fever dream.

“Okay, new plan,” the man says. “What kind of ship did you come in?”

“KYL-3400 small transport,” Master Jinn says, with not a little hesitation. “Why?”

The knight grins. “I’m going to cannibalize it for parts.”

-------------------------

Jango has known Anakin Skywalker for six years. Many of those years have been spent being yanked into babysitting for the man. For reasons Jango doesn’t feel like examining, this will likely continue.

“You’re late,” he says, as the man in question stumbles out of a battered ship that looks only barely like the one that left three months ago. “I thought you said Bandomeer was a quick fix.”

“Ship got shot down, had to help some Jedi, ran into fucking Onaka on the way back,” Skywalker grouses. “I feel like shit. Where are my kids?”

“Buir says you have to go to medical.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. My kids, Jango.”

“They can visit you in medical.”

“And, what, Mereel’s gonna go there for a debrief?”

“Your debrief is going through me,” Jango says, and doesn’t let himself flinch when Skywalker makes a face. “He’ll check in later.”

“Yeah, no,” Skywalker says, taking a step forward and then swaying with a curse. “Listen, this actually does need to go to Mand’alor direct, not just the Alor-in-training--”

“Please don’t do that with my language,” Jango immediately says. “That’s not--no. ‘Alor-in-training’ isn’t a thing. Don’t do that.”

Skywalker turns on his heel with a frustrated snarl, and Jango’s eyes widen as the stupid tunics the man wears flare out.

“Is that a blaster wound?”

“No.”

“Yes it--for fuck’s sake, Skywalker!” Jango growls and just goes over to grab the taller man by the shoulders and march him to medical. “I’m calling your sister.”

“Don’t tell Shmi, she’s got enough to--”

“I’m calling your sister,” Jango snaps. “And you’re going to deal with it. Ka’ra, do you even think? Is there a brain in that head of yours?”

“I’ve been told my braincell is lonely.”

“I’m going to shove you in a trash compactor, dikut’la jetii,” Jango mutters. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“If I say yes, will you let me go deal with it on my own?”

Jango strangles his own scream and shoves Skywalker into the nearest examination room. “Fix him!”

The medic looks up, raises a brow, and turns to Skywalker. “What did you do?”

“What didn’t I do?” Skywalker shoots back, grinning like they’re sharing battle stories over a drink in a cantina.

The medic--Mirka’lu, he thinks--crosses her arms. “General.”

Oh man, the medics must be angry with him already if they’re already jumping titles like that.

“I’m just a knight--”

“General Skywalker.”

The man in question grimaces. “I maybe got shot during an altercation with some pirates.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And... I maybe--maybe--picked a fight with some Hutt enforcers.”

Jango’s going to wring his neck.

Right after he calls Shmi.

-------------------------

Komari does her level best to not shift nervously under the judgmental eyes of the man they’re pretty sure is the Mand’alor. Her master’s got the situation under control. She’s just there to observe. They’ve got an entire team--

“Is that your way of telling me that your Order did minimal research on the situation before coming to intervene, and the only reason you bothered to reach out is because one of my men, weeks ago, let you know that Death Watch is setting traps for both my people and yours?”

Komari feels the flare of annoyance from Master Dooku. She doesn’t react, but she can hear the tension when her Master speaks.

“I assure we would not have attacked on Galidraan unless attacked first, or if we’d found solid evidence of the actions we were informed of,” Master Dooku says, quiet and even. “All your messenger did was save us all a little time.”

Mereel smiles thinly. “Saved us all some lives, more like it.”

“Perhaps.”

“Ah, jetiise aren’t the only ones with Force-Sensitives,” the Mand’alor says. “I’ve more than a few under my command. Visions aren’t foolproof, I’m aware, but I’ll be damned if such a warning goes completely ignored.”

Master Dooku makes a low humming noise. “Be that as it may, I’m unsure of what it is that you’re expecting out of our... presence. We are not here to help you claim your presumed throne. We are only here to stop the killings we were told about.”

“I don’t need your help to reunite my people.” Mereel waves a hand, batting the mere suggestion away. “But I’d appreciate the help with taking out the terrorist group that’s actually going out and murdering the helpless, this planet’s farmers and doctors and children. Kyr’tsad isn’t just a thorn in my side, Master Jedi.”

“And what proof do I have that you aren’t just the same kind of monster as you claim they are?” Master Dooku challenges.

It’s a little brazen, considering how dicey these negotiations are. For all that Komari herself doesn’t wince, someone behind her outright hisses in dismay. She agrees with the sentiment.

Mereel just laughs at them. He catches the eye of one of the armored individuals along the wall, human or close to it, and nods to himself.

“Right,” the man says. “Well, we have our own Jedi. Would you like to meet him?”

Master Dooku is immobile, as if carved from stone. The rest of the group is... not.

“I suppose that would be acceptable,” Master Dooku says, and Komari feels the tension in him wind further through the training bond. There are a million questions to be had here. None of them can be answered without the supposed Jedi.

“Great,” the Mand’alor says. He leans back in his seat and turns to the door. With the press of a button, the door slides open. “Ben!”

A child darts into the room, stops, and bounces on their feet. Probably male, Komari thinks, and very anxious. The child’s eyes dart about the room, taking in every single Jedi in sight. When that gaze lands on Master Dooku, there’s a flash of recognition and... not hate, but distaste. Confused and distant dismay, maybe. The child turns back to Mereel.

“Mand’alor,” the child greets, still bouncing. “Am I needed?”

“Thought I told you this meeting was for grown-ups,” the Mand’alor says.

Ben shrugs. “I wanted to listen in.”

“That door is soundproofed and you know it.”

“So?”

The Mand’alor grins. “Do me a favor and go fetch your dad.”

“Buir’s still sleeping,” Ben says, grave as dirt. It’s a strange expression for such a small child. He can’t be older than eight, and Komari’s pretty sure even that’s a stretch. “Shmi’s gonna be mad if he has to wake up before the bacta’s done.”

“I just need him for negotiations,” Mereel assures the child.

“Aggressive negotiations with a lightsaber?” Ben asks, and Komari nearly chokes.

“No, just regular ones.”

Ben nods sharply, and then turns and runs out.

“That boy...” Mereel mutters, but it’s fond. “Anywa--”

“BUIR!” Ben’s voice echoes from the hall, faint but audible, along with some very loud banging on what is presumably a door. “DAD! WAKE UP, THE COUNT IS HERE!”

The Count? Komari wonders. Even Master Dooku seems surprised.

The question is clearly on more minds than just her own. Mereel raises a brow at Master Dooku and gestures vaguely. “Didn’t know any of you were nobility. You a Count, Master Jedi?”

“No,” Master Dooku says, and before the Mand’alor can press further, he adds, “but if I were to retire from the Order, the title would be mine to inherit. As I have no intentions of retiring, I am not and will not be a Count, but I assume that is what the child is referring to.”

“Ben,” the Mand’alor corrects. He seems pleased with the reasonable answer. “Ylliben Skywalker. I suggest you refer to him by name.”

“You have a fondness for him,” Master Dooku notes.

Mereel shrugs. “No more than any other child, objectively, but his father is one of my more effective allies, and he gets antsy about things. Saying ‘your child’ won’t be a problem, but ‘the child’ is... well.”

The smirk is a challenge that Komari doesn’t feel ready to meet. She’s glad it’s not hers to handle.

“Why do you ‘have’ a Jedi?” Master Dooku asks, pushing the conversation back to the point Komari’s sure he was initially aiming for.

“Found him in a snowstorm, brought him inside,” Mereel says, grinning. “And then he refused to leave, the shabuir. Troublesome man, like you wouldn’t believe, but useful.”

“Like a feral tooka,” someone behind Komari mutters. She feels a part of her soul die.

You can’t just say that in front of the Mand’alor! she screeches in the depths of her mind, despairing.

“Exactly,” Mereel agrees with a laugh. “Skywalker’s a feral tooka.”

Komari dies a little more.

“Talkin’ shit about me, Mereel?”

...oh no.

This one’s pretty.

The man is tall, dressed almost entirely in black, and looks like shit.

“You look like you got run over by a herd of bantha,” the Mand’alor notes.

“I got back less than a day ago,” Skywalker growls out. He leans against the wall behind the Mand’alor’s desk. He folds his arms. He glowers around the room. “The kriff is Count Dooku doing here?”

“Master Dooku,” the man in question says, a little pained. “As I informed Mand’alor Mereel, I may technically have claim to that title, but I am a Jedi. So long as I remain a Jedi, the title isn’t actually mine.”

Skywalker makes a face, and then shakes his head. “Fine. Whatever. Jaster, what the hell do you need from me?”

“Well, some manners would be nice.”

“I got shot and am putting myself in a position to get yelled at by baar’ur Mirka’lu for coming here when I’m supposed to be on bed rest,” Skywalker growls out. He kicks Mereel’s chair, glaring at the back of the man’s head. “You’re lucky I put on pants.”

Mereel seems unbothered by this statement or treatment.

Komari thinks her eyes may currently be the size of dinner plates.

“You’re the one from Bandomeer.”

Skywalker’s head snaps up to focus his gaze on Master Dooku. “Say what?”

“You’re the one my former Padawan encountered on Bandomeer,” Master Dooku says, something satisfied in his tone. “He said you refused to give a name, but the physical description does match.”

“Oh, lovely, Jinn’s been gossiping,” Skywalker mutters. “That’s just--”

“General Skywalker,” Mereel says, voice finally slipping to something more stern than amused. “If you could please focus.”

Skywalker rolls his eyes and mutters something about painkillers.

“Buir?”

Skywalker’s head tilts to the side, and he holds one arm out to the side. The kid from before--Ben--darts in to cling to the man’s side. A slightly taller Togruta follows in and ducks in under his other arm. Both children keep a wary gaze fixed on the same person, and their adult...

Every look from this man is a new challenge to Master Dooku.

“They’re yours?”

That is the exact question Komari was hoping her master wouldn’t ask.

“We’re in Mandalorian territory,” Skywalker says. “They’re Force-Sensitive orphans with an incredible amount of potential. If I didn’t claim them, someone else would have.”

It’s not an airtight justification--the man could have just sent them to the Temple--but the air around him is roiling with aggression. This man does not like Master Dooku, and is more than a shade protective of these--his--children. Komari shifts her weight and worries as the pregnant silence grows heavier.

“As you say,” Master Dooku allows, and some of the bowstring-tight tension in the room loosens, drains away like foul bathwater. “If I may... I was unaware you were a General, nor that Mandalore had a standing army large enough for such a position.”

“He’s not,” Mereel says. “Used to be, won’t tell me where. It’s not my business, or yours. Title’s a holdover from whatever war he was fighting before we got him.”

Komari is not the only person whose heart drops as Master Dooku says, “Qui-Gon claimed that the rogue knight he’d met on Bandomeer mentioned a galactic war against the Sith.”

Mereel blinks, and then turns his seat around to look at Skywalker. The other Mandalorians look at Skywalker. Every single Jedi also looks at Skywalker.

The Togruta child sticks her tongue out at Master Dooku.

“I did say that,” Skywalker says. “What of it?”

“You know, when I said I didn’t care what fight you were running that turned you into a soldier, I kind of assumed it was something on the level of, say, a system-wide civil war,” Mereel drawls. “Not galactic Force nonsense.”

Skywalker shrugs. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

“Because you’ll lie?”

“No, I’m just going to be really annoying about it,” Skywalker tells him. The Togruta giggles and shoves her face into his side. “Or, hell, I’ll let Ben do it. We both know he can talk circles around basically everyone in this room.”

“Skywalker.”

“Mereel.”

The two hold gazes for a moment that lasts just a little too long, and then Mereel breaks it off. “We’re talking about this later.”

“Of course, Mand’alor,” Skywalker says, with a grim sort of smile. “Wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”

Mereel doesn’t seem particularly impressed by that.

Komari wonders if anyone else remembers that Skywalker was supposed to be here to make negotiations easier.

-------------------------

Yan Dooku is having a Day.

He’s not entirely sure whom to blame for this mess. Perhaps Yoda, for suggesting he handle this mission. Perhaps the governor of Galidraan, who decided collaborating with terrorists for his own gain was a good idea. Perhaps Jaster Mereel, whose influence and power is enough that Yan needs to tread carefully. Perhaps Qui-Gon, for giving him just enough information about Skywalker to cause some drama.

Perhaps Skywalker for being a recalcitrant, ornery bastard who delights in Yan’s suffering.

(One of the Mandalorians calls him that to his face, and Skywalker informs the man that “my mother always told me I didn’t have a father,” and stares until the Mando stammers out an apology and turns on his heel.)

(The smirk on Skywalker’s face is certainly informative.)

“Hi.”

Yan looks up from the datapad he’s been using to try and punch out a report, for all that he can’t find the words he needs, and sees the Togruta youngling from Skywalker’s side hanging upside-down from a ventilation grate.

He blinks evenly at her. “Good afternoon. Is that your normal manner of traversing the building?”

“Yeah, when Jan-Jan isn’t yelling at me about it,” she says, and drops from the ceiling. Seemingly without paying attention, she directs the grate itself back into place with the Force, screws reattaching themselves with only the slightest whisper. She’s done this many, many times.

“I’m afraid I don’t know who that is.”

“Jango Fett,” she clarifies. “Ad be Mand’alor.”

Child of the king.

He does remember that much from the briefing.

“I see,” Yan says, rather than try to tackle whatever the usage of such a nickname implies. “I’m afraid nobody’s seen fit to introduce you, youngling.”

“I’m Sokanth Skywalker, but most people call me Soka,” she says, with a bouncing, shallow bow. Full of energy, this one. “I’m eight.”

“The General is your father, then?”

“Mm-hm! He adopted me when I was almost two,” she says, and climbs up onto the bench. She wraps her arms around her knees and beams up. “Ben was still a baby, and we didn’t go get Shmi until a few months later when Skyguy could afford it.”

“Skyguy?” Yan prompts.

“My dad,” she explains, head tilting a little as she studies his reaction. “I... I’ve always called him Skyguy. He took care of me before he adopted me, for at least a year. He says I called him Skyguy when I first started talking, back then, and then he didn’t make me stop when he adopted me.”

“I see,” Yan says. “Does your father know you’re speaking with me?”

“Probably.”

“And would he approve?” Yan hints as heavily as he can. “He doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“That’s because we’ve all seen what you could be,” she says. “But you’re not the Count yet, so it’s okay.”

Information. “Ah. Visions, then. That would explain some things.”

“Ben gets them the most,” she keeps talking. “But it’s not just that. It’s like... patterns. The Sith are going to target you, because they’re going to think you’re worth corrupting.”

“And you’ve seen enough Sith to know that?”

“Yeah.”

“Visions are not foolproof,” he says, trying to keep his tone gentle. He’s not used to interacting with children of this age, and this one comes with a father in the Mand’alor’s confidence, someone he can’t afford to irritate by making a daughter cry. “I have a friend who is very prone to visions, and some come true, some don’t, and others--”

“Are self-fulfilling,” Sokanth finishes for him. “I know that. But my dad’s actually fought Sith, y’know. The guy who cut off my dad’s arm used to be a Jedi Master, like you, and he was all fancy-schmancy and a history nerd for Sith stuff, and didn’t like the Council or their decisions very much. Like you.”

That’s... very personal.

“A surface-level similarity is not enough to make the claim that I am to become a Sith,” he says.

She blinks at him, eyes too large for a face that’s so near to human in bone-structure. It’s unnerving. “Whether or not you Fall is your choice, Count. All I can tell you is that you are the kind of person they look to groom... if only as a pawn.”

The words are too old for a girl her size.

“You speak as if you’ve faced the Sith yourself,” Yan says, well aware now that he needs to tread carefully, but... “You’re too young to go out into the field. I can’t imagine your father would allow a child like yourself to go up against someone that dangerous.”

She blinks those too large eyes, and tilts her head in the other direction, and then smiles. “You care. That’s good. Keep that compassion, Count.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I feel like you’re evading the question.”

Sokanth giggles. “Maybe. Buir doesn’t like us talking about it much. It makes him sad, ‘cuz he can’t help us not hurt, and a lot of it is really scary. It’s like... my memories are too big for my head. I don’t get a lot of visions, but I get a lot of dreams of things that happened that I’m not alive for. And buir does remember those things happening, so it’s true, and it happened, but I only... sort of remember it, and when I think about it too hard, it hurts my head. Or I get nightmares about it, and I don’t like those. Ben’s got it worse, though. He has more to fight.”

It’s a lot of information.

It’s confusing information.

It’s... possibly information that the General has asked her to feed him for reasons he can’t even begin to guess at.

“In this war your father fought,” Yan asks, “were you a soldier as well?”

“Commander,” she corrects, voice soft. “That’s what the dreams call me, before they start screaming.”

“How old are you really?” He asks, before he can quite stop himself.

She laughs, suddenly bright again. “I’m as old as I look. I’m eight. Just because the Force gives me memories I shouldn’t have doesn’t mean that my brain isn’t a kid. Sometimes Ben tries to act older than he is ‘cuz of the memories, y’know. Buir gets sad whenever he does that, ‘cuz he thinks we deserve to be kids before the galaxy goes to hell again.”

“He’s sure of such a thing?”

“It always does,” she says, with the air of someone who isn’t sure how their conversation partner could be quite that dense. Her voice takes on a sing-song cadence, like she’s telling a fable instead of a philosophy. “War always comes eventually. Not every sentient is selfish, but enough are, and they tend to be the ones that claw their way to the top. The rich and powerful will take and take and take, and then, when there’s nothing left, they will use their living stepping stones to tear each other apart. All we can do is be ready to end it as quickly as possible once it comes.”

Yan lets the claim sit for a long, quiet minute. “Did your father tell you that?”

“No,” she says. “Ben did.”

The six-year-old.

“He has a way with words,” Yan manages.

“Sometimes he uses his stuffed animals to host courtroom dramas,” she says. “He makes me look up the right laws so it can be procedurally accurate, ‘cuz he’s a nerd but so am I, and it makes Skyguy happy when he sees us playing like that instead of just doing saber forms and stuff.”

Yan has... no idea what to do with that. “I wouldn’t normally call courtroom dramas a normal children’s activity.”

“Yeah, but Ben’s a nerd,” she says, as if that’s all that needs to be said. Maybe, for her, it is. “And there’s only so much time I’m allowed to spend hunting.”

Right. Togruta.

“And what was your father doing at that age?”

“I’m not allowed to talk about that,” she says immediately. “Because it’s very private and he and Shmi get upset if we bring it up, ‘cuz of trauma and stuff.”

Shmi. The... sister, he thinks. People seem to be unclear on that. He’s heard a few refer to the teenager as just “one of Skywalker’s,” so that’s something to consider. She’s near-perfectly halfway between the children and the General, in terms of age, so it’s a little ambiguous where she fits.

That said, he’s been in a lot of places in his time as a Jedi Master. It’s taken him a little longer than it should have to realize, but he thinks he’s got at least part of the puzzle.

Skywalker’s a slave name. Tatooine, specifically.

It’s not confirmation, really, but...

Well. He thinks it’s better he doesn’t dig, on that subject.

“Hey,” Sokanth says, tugging at his sleeve. “Can I ask ya something?”

“I cannot promise an answer, but you may ask.”

“Can you spar with Skyguy? I wanna see who wins.”

[kokonoisgf]

Falling - Gojo Satoru x Reader

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!!! MINORS DNI !!! 18+ content ahead

+ this kinda really flopped on ao3, so I’ll repost it here hehe. I wrote this a while back but i’m still super proud of it!! I hope you guys like it too <3

+ explicit sexual content, fem reader, porn w plot <3

+ too lazy to proofread- 

+ w.c : 8.2k

⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑ 

The music blared, drowning you in what seemed like a never-ending playlist of pop music. Mass of sweaty bodies mingled on the dance floor, while you relaxed at the bar, sipping on your heavily alcoholic cocktail. Lights flashed alternating between different shades of fuchsia, blue, green, and violet to the beat of the song. Your face felt warm, feeling bubbly in the pit of your stomach, gaze darting toward your friends having a blast on the dance floor with strangers. You grinned, leaning your head in the palm of your hand, planning to go join them once you'd be done with your drink. Your black bodycon dress rilled up your thighs, exposing the sweet delicate skin of your slender legs, which, unbeknownst to you, had men's ogling you left and right. A specific group of 3 men's had their eyes on you by the entrance, snickering. Their gaze held something malicious, but you were too tipsy to take notice of that or even care. You got cut out of your little trance by your friends coming back to you, smelling of a mix of alcohol and perfume. "We'll be heading back now Y/N" "Aw really? I was about to join you" You fake pouted, not really minding as you'd just go binge watch some of your favorite shows at home instead. Taking your hands, their heavily drunk self dragged you outside, all beaming and laughing. A couple of men's followed suit, you paid it no mind knowing that your friends were most likely taking them home. You made them promise to call you, and share their location on their phones as they exited in their respective cabs kissing your cheeks goodbye, their partner for the night following. you wrapped your black fur coat around yourself tighter, taking your phone off to dial a cab for yourself. You felt stares drill a hole into your body, the coat tightly wrapped around yourself only highlighting your delicious curves. As you were composing the cab's phone number you got rudely interrupted by someone snatching your phone away. Yelping, it took you a second to realize what was going on, your drunkness still hitting you with full force. In front of you stood three men, the one in the middle holding your pink cellphone between his digits. Their faces were disgusting, looking at you like you were nothing but prey on their list. Eyes glossy most likely from their alcohol intake, they reeked of cheap cologne and sweats. "Leaving alone tonight sweetheart?" one purred in a sultry voice, you backed away crossing your arms over your chest defensively. The alcohol in your system gave you a confidence you never knew you possessed "Give me back my phone, now." The males snickered, as the middle one shook his head dropping it in his pockets. "Not with that attitude, anyways what're you going to do about it-" he paused, stepping forward, desperately trying to close the distance between you two. You gasped, taking another step back almost falling, your vision was blurry, your senses weakened. You mentally cursed for going so heavily on the drinking, feeling yourself wobble. A shiver racing up your spine, the sudden gust of wind hit you, not to mention the snowflakes falling on your face and bare legs. "Leave me alone!" You faltered, eyes darting for anyone that could be of help, but everyone seemed in a daze too engrossed with the muffled music, or busy making out with a stranger. "Hey honey, are those creeps bothering you?" The sweetest voice resonated throughout your ears, feeling your back lend against something warm. A hand snaked around your waist pulling you closer to their protective figure, making sure that you were stable. "H-Huh--" You stuttered, blinking in confusion, looking up at the person behind you. He was tall, really tall, with locks the same color as snowflakes, a bandana covering his eyes. He wore a jean jacket over a dark top, with beige pants. It didn't take you more than one glance to notice that he was really handsome. Your eyes lingered a bit on the bandana, wondering if he possibly was blind, before grasping a hold of the situation. "Y-Yes they are" playing your part, you snuggled closer into his chest, relishing in the warmth he provided. Your voice was low, glaring daggers at the men's, holding unto your savior for dear life. His digit slowly caressed your arm, until he interlocked fingers with yours, walking up to the guys. His aura was intimidating, leaning down to be at eye level with them. You gulped down, he must have been 6' tall at least or something. "Now then, I'd like to have my girlfriend's phone back now" He grinned, extending his free hand, palm open. The large hand holding yours gave a light squeeze, seeming to thank you for your cooperation. Suddenly, as the trio carefully analyzed who was standing in front of them, their faces paled, all color draining leaving them as white as your savior's locks. Tilting your head to the side, you couldn't help but wonder if he was somehow known around here. "W-Wait Is that-" "Uh- Yes it's-" The trio almost started shaking like leaves, quickly handing back the phone. It wasn't long until they were out of sight, running inside the club, mingling back into the crowd. You beamed, as he turned back to you, towering above your small frame handing you back your belonging. You thanked him, letting your gaze linger on his face. His nose and tip of his ears were slightly pinkish due to the snow falling, his lips rosy-tinted. You couldn't help but stare in a daze, still wondering if he was blind. Your eyes scanned his surroundings for any signs of a cane or something, but none to avail. Nonetheless, your tipsy brain concluded, without any proof, that the man indeed lacked sight. Taking your sweet time to scan his face and gorgeous locks, you couldn't help but blush, he really was extremely good looking there was no denying it. "You know, you're actually pretty cute staring at me like that." A grin plastered against his lips, he tilted his head to the side, chuckling. You yelped, covering your mouth with the back of your free hand. "W-Wait you're not blind-" If that was even possible, his grin widened, "Luckily for me I'm not" he paused, giving another squeeze to your interlocked hands, reminding you that you were still holding hand with a complete stranger you'd met a mere 5 minutes ago. You couldn't help but gasp again, sweet melodic sounds escaping your lips. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your cold skin, leaning down, now at eye level with you, "You see, I'm glad I still have perfect vision to admire the sight in front of me right now" Your blush deepened, looking off to the side, trying to save your pride as much as you could. His words were swooning you way more than they should, was it the alcohol? or was it this mysterious aspect of him? But most importantly, how silly were you to even assume that he was blind after he just helped you, ugh curse your foolish little brain. You blamed it on his handsome features, must have gotten you distracted or something. "Smooth talker aren't you" you grimaced at him, cheeks reddish for being so fervently exposed to checking him out blatantly. You started to let go of his hand, even if you clearly didn't want to. Something about him entranced you, making you want to know more about him, even if he was just a mere stranger. "I was fine with holding hand, but if you insist" He teased in a sing-song voice, taking notice in the way you held your coat so closely to your frame. Shivers racked through your body, never imagining that you'd been waiting outside for so long, your outfit clearly not appropriate for this icy weather. "Here," You blinked, eyes glued to the man offering you his dark jean jacket. It was clearly oversized for you, yet you could smell his cologne and it enticed you to accept it. Snowflakes started falling on his broad shoulder, reflecting the light from the club's neon signs. "But, you'll be cold, '' you muttered, trying to put up a fight, knowing damn well you were freezing to the bones. "On the contrary, I'm pretty hot. Don't you think?" Your cheeks flared, it was as if he was reading your every thought. Huffing you wrapped the jacket around yourself, nuzzling your face into it trying to keep your face from freezing. "Do you want me to inflate your ego that badly?" "Well, you kinda already did considering how you were staring at me earlier sweetheart" He grinned, hand coming to shake off the snow from his hair. Your blush increased tenfold, his flirty behavior really getting to you. "Shut up I wasn't-" you retorted in a futile attempt to gain some dignity back, looking off to the side pouting. Leaning down, his scent swirled around you, face mere centimeters away from yours. You gulped, eyes scanning his delicate face: his lips seemed so soft, a thin coat of lips balm covering them, you wondered how it tasted. What was his favorite flavor, cherry? or maybe strawberry? "There you go again, ah so cute." He teased, proving himself right once again, his hot breath ghosting over your face smelling of mint and candy. Covering your cheeks with your hand, it felt like your face was on fire. "You talk too much" A chuckle escaped his parted lips, a fake pout now plastered on his handsome feature "Ah so mean to me" you couldn't hold back a giggle at the way he said it, hand coming to cover your mouth. The snowstorm went on, as you took your phone out of your pocket, unlocking it to look at the time. 1:15 a.m showed on the screen, your battery settling at a low 10%. Pursing on your lips, you didn't want this moment to end, completely enticed by this stranger but you had to call a cab before your phone died on you. Curse you for forgetting your charger as always. "You know, I'm a pretty good driver, I can drive you home if you'd like" His proposition took you aback, was this man really capable of reading your every thought? You couldn't possibly fathom what made this handsome stranger be so interested in you, your mind still a bit hazy from your previous drinks. Pursing on your lips, you definitely wanted to spend more time with him, yet feeling bad to make him become your personal driver before even knowing his name. "Are you're sure? I'd feel bad making you drive me home, plus I live quite far" you muttered sheepishly hands fondling with the hem of his jacket. "Anything for a pretty lady, and besides if you live too far-" He paused stepping closer, a hand coming to push back a strand of hair that the harsh winter breeze had pushed into your face, "It so happens that I live really close by" You stood there in shock, as this attractive stranger so blatantly exposed wanting to take you home. You gulped down, eyes scanning his face for any signs of it being mere teasing. Yet, he seemed honest, a grin still covering his face. "You really are a smooth talker" giggling, you nodded accepting his proposition fervently. Was it because of your semi-drunk state or the thoughts of what could possibly happen over at his house, you clearly had no intention of refusing his delightful offer. Everything about him made your core feel warm, yet you knew so little. Starting to walk toward his car, you stopped in astonishment at the sheer luxury of the vehicle. He beamed, opening your door for you, settling your purse into your lap sitting on the dark leather seat. You played with the strap of your bag, waiting for him to join you on the conductor side. As he sat, and closed his door his scent mingled with you, making the apple of your cheeks darken. "You're too damn adorable you know that?" You yelped, catching him gazing at you, putting his seatbelt on. "look who's talking-" You muttered to yourself unbeknownst that this man seemed to possess super hearing chuckling at your response. "Being called adorable is definitely a first, but I'll take it if it comes from you" His large veiny hand opened the vents, warm air now flooding inside the car, you sighed in delight. "Also sweetheart, I wouldn't want to bring a lady home before at least knowing her name" He paused, letting his head rest in the palm of his hand, "you know I do am a well-mannered man after all" He slyly said, head tilted to the side. His gorgeous ivory locks slightly damped considering the snowflakes that melted. Tongue darting out to lick your dried up lips from the cold, you blushed "L/N Y/N" "Ah L/N Y/N, sounds like music to my ear, I'm Gojo Satoru" ❄❄❄ Opening up the Bluetooth station he turned his head, most likely shooting you a glance under his bandana. "I hope you got any good music Y/N, you'll be our DJ for the ride" A grin formed on his lips as you started beaming. "Of course I do!" You retorted confidently, connecting to the Bluetooth at the speed of light. He hummed, starting the car, the scent of leather mingling with your own. As you put on your favorite song, he shouted "No way! You listen to Megan Thee Stallion? I knew there was something I liked about you sweetheart" Your heart thumped in your chest, feeling like it might burst out. His blatant honesty was striking you right in the heart. He really knew how to transform you into a blushing mess. "You got good taste too, She's really fire" your eyes twinkled, relinquishing in this feeling. Humming, Gojo turned to you, sticking his tongue out to you, "I know I got good taste Y/N, that's why you're coming back home with me after all" You swore you could saw him wink under his bandana, your blush increasing tenfold. You playfully, hit his arm, grimacing back at him, letting the music surround the both of you. As the chorus hit, Gojo was fully vibing, dancing to the sound. One hand on the wheel, he sang the rapping part perfectly, moving his upper body sensually to the beat of the song. His hair moved alongside him, chest huffing as he sang. You got entranced, eyes glued to him, seeing him drive with one hand, was somehow so sexy making your heart flutter. Starting to sing alongside him, he shot you a glance, grinning widely, the drive to his home way better than your whole clubbing experience so far. ❄❄❄ His apartment was extremely spacious, to say the least. The walls were covered in large windows, a spacious leather couch, and what seemed like at least a 60 inches television on the wall. The floor was a sublime chestnut wood, walls as snowy as his hair. A few plants adorned the corners of the apartment the whole thing reminding you of what you'd see in magazines or on the internet. You couldn't hold back your amazement, mouth forming an o shape, which made Gojo chuckle. Taking off his shoes, he proceeded to Drop the keys on the counter. He stretched, "Can I offer you something to drink?", face buried in his huge fridge, seeming to push bottles around from the sounds of it. You left both your coat and his jean jacket on a nearby chair, shoes neatly placed next to his, letting it dry up from the snowstorm outside, turning to him. Your dress hugged your curve to perfection, the small material barely covering what needed to be covered, stopping above mid-thighs. You wore a gold necklace, with gold hoops earrings your hair falling down your back, your collarbones full exposed. "Hmmm" You pondered, walking up to him, standing on your tiptoes trying to see something. Feeling your presence behind him, Gojo risked a glance in your direction, his smirk widening tenfold. "Are you trying to make me fall for you by looking like that darling? Because honestly, it's working 100 percent" pursing on his lips, his tongue darted out to wet them, your gaze instantly following suit. You felt your face erupt once again "H-Huh! It's not like that, I just wanted to dry up our coats" You stammered trying to defend yourself, arms flailing in front of you. He chuckled, gaze devouring you under the dark fabric that covered his eyes. Crossing your arms over your chest you grimaced at him, "Do you have white wine by any chance?" He nodded, "Of course my lady" moving the bottles around, deciding on one. Dropping it on the table he reached for one of the cupboards above his fridge, getting two glasses. You watched him in astonishment, a slight blush dusting your cheeks. He seemed to take notice in your endeavor as per usual, grinning "Something caught your eye sweetheart?" he remarked, pouring you a glass. You huffed, looking off to the side defensively, "You're just very attractive that's all..." You muttered the last part, which only seemed to inflate his never-ending ego. Cutting him off before he dared crack another flirty joke, you asked "How tall are you?" your curiosity was getting the best of you, as you sipped on the drink, the warmth of it enveloping you. He was so mysterious, the only thing you knew about him was his name, yet it was like you were craving for more. It wasn't like you to be that way, not usually caring what your partner for the night liked to drink, or what his favorite tv show was, but for the snowy-haired man in front of you, you'd actually memorize those facts in a heartbeat. He had you entranced, muddy in the palm of his hand. He leaned against the kitchen counter, leaning down, letting his head rest in the palm of his hand. "Thank you, you're pretty damn gorgeous yourself, and I'm around 6'3 I would say" He grinned being completely obvious to the fact that his height was a major turn on, bringing the drink to his lips. Your eyes followed his glass, gulping down. You scrunched your nose, a hand coming to twirl a piece of your hair. "Any other question darling?" He teased, taking his sweet time into savoring the intoxicating liquid. You knew damned well what you wanted to know, something you'd been wondering ever since you laid your gaze on him. "Yes actually, since you claim not being blind, what color are your eyes" You were getting bold, bolder than you'd usually be, the alcohol reigniting the fire inside you. If that was even possible, his smirk grew wider, head tilted to the side, "Oh, that's something I get asked a lot, so I'll give you 2/10 for the originality" He paused chuckling, taking another sip. You pouted stepping closer, your mind was running wild, what color could his beautiful irises be? Forest green? Ocean blue? or maybe coffee-colored ones? It was burning you on the inside, like an insatiable itch that you couldn't get rid of. "Does every girl ask you that?" You teased, feeling a slight pinch of jealousy scraping your heart. He laughed, instantly taking notice "ah you're too obvious, already getting jealous about my whereabouts aren't you?" Your face caught on fire at his words, your blush probably the color of the cherries on the kitchen counter by now. He twirled the glass in his hand, satisfied with the response he elicited from you before saying: "They do ask, but I rarely show anyone" He paused taking a sip, tongue licking up a droplet that was running down the glass. He had gotten strangely serious for the first time since your meeting, "But for you, I'd make an exception". You were taken aback, scanning his face for signs of it being a mere joke, but once again the man seemed utterly honest. You wondered if there was a specific reason as to why he hid his eyes, but you decided upon not asking now, it was rather too soon, and not of your business. He straightened himself, now towering above you. "On one condition, I'll let you do the honor of taking it off, deal?" He grinned coming back to his natural goofy self, seeming to take pleasure in your state. Your anticipation was killing you, feeling it in the pit of your stomach, nodding fervently ready to accept any condition if it meant seeing what was underneath that damned piece of fabric. As your hand reached for the material, standing on your tiptoes, the man caught your wrist giving it a slight squeeze. "Oh! but take a guess first" He stuck his tongue at you, as you visibly grumped, "You said one condition" You argued back, letting your heels fall back on the wooden floor, his long fingers still holding on to you. His hand was radiating warmth, making you miss your situation earlier when you were in his embrace. "hmm--" you pondered, taking a good look at his face. He would be handsome with any eye color really, yet you were taking so much fun into guessing it, trying to picture every possibility unto his face. Really wanting to win this little competition, you decided to go with what seemed like your safest bet. "I'll go with brown!" you beamed, feeling confident. That was until his grin widened, letting go of your hand. He waved his finger, seeming to wink under his bandana "We'll see about that '' You pursed your lips, feeling as if you had taken the wrong option, from his remark. Grasping a hold of the hem of his shirt you tugged on it slightly, "lean down a bit you're too tall" You complained, to which he obliged, literally going down on his knees. "Weren't you swooning over my height just a moment ago?" He teased, proceeding to imitate in a high pitched tone what was supposed to be your voice: "How tall are you?" Your embarrassment was out of bound, cheeks burning for being so blatantly exposed yet again, he really had no mercy in store for you. "Shut it- I have more important things to focus on right now" You retorted, earning a chuckle from him. He was right in front of you, a bit below eye level now, but you were finally able to take a good look at his angelic feature, which only made your heartbeat boosts tenfold. You had never met, or even seen, someone as good looking as him. What was his deal though? Taking such a liking to you, yes he did protect you from these creeps but now he was just fueling your fantasies and dreams even more. "Anytime now darling" He burst your bubble, bringing you back to reality, your hands darting toward the material. Sliding one finger underneath, you felt your hands shake a little. Was it because of all this built up anticipation, or was it because you were afraid that you'd actually fall even more for him when you'll see his full features? Slowly pulling it down, Gojo remained silent, smirking, probably planning something mischievous. As the material fell down, now hanging around his neck, you peered before almost shouting at the sight: his eyes were closed. "Oh my god- Open your eyes! You can't do this to me-" Midway into your childlike tantrum, laughter escaped his parted lips, eyes opening. The sight literally knocked the air out of your lungs, You stood there star-struck, your gaze melting into his. You couldn't believe your eyes, your mind refusing to process what was right in front of you. Beautiful sapphire irises looked back at you, adorned with full lashes as white as his hair. Was there something this guy didn't have?! Your mouth stayed slightly open, silence filling the apartment. Not only that, but also his hair had fallen down, now framing his delicate face so perfectly. Locks of snowy hair contrasting with his slightly tanned skin. He looked back at you, head tilting to the side before waving a hand in front of your face. "You still alive Y/N?" He teased, eyes twinkling, taking off the bandana fully and settling it on the counter. "Your eyes, they're gorgeous" you muttered, you wanted to say so much more but you were still processing how utterly beautiful that man was. It struck you right in the heart, as now, whenever his glance caught yours, you'd feel the apple of your cheeks heat up even more than before. "Thank you, I got quite the genes I admit." He cockily replied, taking a sip of wine, eyelashes fluttering. Your regard was glued to him, walking to the counter to get your glass, scooting closer to him in the process. You felt the need to compliment him more, was it because of the intoxicating alcohol now pulsating through your veins, you didn't know, but your mouth opened nonetheless: "Is that why you never show your eyes? You're afraid that girls will fall for you left and right?" You taunted grimacing, thinking you'd gotten back at him for being such a tease himself before it dawned on you that your big mouth had gotten you into quite the messy situation. Humming, Gojo leaned on the kitchen counter, his eyes flickering under the light, "So basically," He almost purred, running a hand through his ivory locks, "You just admitted falling for me. Did I hear you right, honey?" His face arbored the biggest grin you'd ever seen, knowing full well he had you under the spotlight right there, while his overly handsome self sipped on his drink. He was mere centimeters away, his scent completely intoxicating you. You cursed yourself for being so light-headed, your silly self not knowing to think twice before saying something. The alcohol had all subdued, not feeling any signs of being drunk or tipsy either, and yet you were still silly. Flashes from your earlier situation appeared in your mind, hoping you'd get to be in his embrace soon enough. Yet, you couldn't inflate his ego more than it was, his head would probably implode at this rate. As you were about to retort back, he shushed you placing a finger on your lips, "Shush, it's okay baby, I'm kinda falling for you too you know" He smirked, his digit caressing the smooth skin of your rosy lips. You were star struck, gaze melting into his, his touch lighting a fire within you. You had this growing urge to just please him, let him dominate you fully. The alcohol ignited lust, slowly opening your mouth, taking his digit inside your mouth. His eyes gleamed, now half-lidded, a low moan escaping his lips. Your tongue swirled and licked his long finger, feeling yourself get soaked at the thoughts of it inside you. His gaze never left the show in front of him, slowly coming to bit down on his lips. The mere sensation of your tongue against his digit made his length throb in his pants. You pulled away with a wet satisfying 'pop', gaze swirling with lust. His other hand came to grab your chin slightly, tilting it upward. The mere action made your core feel warm, already submitting entirely to him. He leaned down, bringing the finger that was previously in your mouth, into his. Never breaking eye contact with you, he hummed tasting yourself off his finger, before saying: "Don't get me wrong sweetheart, that indirect kiss was pretty hot, but I'd rather be doing this." And with that, he instantly crashed his lips on yours. You couldn't hold back a moan, all the built-up anticipation hitting you full force. His lip balm smelling of cherry, one of your hands came to rest on his shoulder feeling his muscles underneath the dark fabric. Damn, he was a good kisser, tongue swirling around yours, leaving nothing untouched. It was rare for you to feel yourself get soaked already from just a kiss, but this man seemed to possess supernatural powers or something. His thumb rubbed soothing patterns on your cheek, his tongue lapping at your lips eliciting yet another sinful moan from you. Taking this opportunity, Gojo slide his tongue into your mouth leaving nothing untouched. Towering above you, one of his hand slid down your back, resting on the back of your waist. Breaking away from the kiss, he panted, eyes twinkling. "May I gorgeous?" The hand resting on your waist gave a slight squeeze indicating what he meant. You blushed at his behavior, obviously agreeing. Large palms slide down the small of your back, fingers digging into your plump rear. The man almost let out a moan, eyelashes fluttering feeling your curves under his touch. His reaction only fueled your lust, even more, desire swirling into your irises locking gaze with him. A glance was all you needed to understand Gojo, as you jumped wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands instantly planted themselves on your ass supporting you, taking their time to feel you up, leaving nothing untouched. His touch was like fire, making you moan from its simplest movement, making a chuckle erupt from him. "Don't stop making those noises for me baby" He ordered, lips crashing back down on yours. You could only hum, your fingers tangled into his snowy white hair. Tugging on his locks slightly, the man groaned grinding his already fully erect cock on your panties. You gasped in the kiss, which the man didn't hesitate to take advantage of his tongue swirling in your mouth. Your dress had obviously rilled up, your bare ass now barely covered. As you deepened the kiss, saliva mixing with his, you felt him start walking toward the back of his apartment where you had noticed his room earlier. However, you were wrong to assume that he would have made it this far, no, not with how utterly hot you looked right now. Dropping your body on the couch, he nestled in between your legs. Encaging you between his arms, one of his large hands grasped both of your wrists pinning them up above your hand. He had such long fingers that both of your wrists seemed like merely nothing in his hands. Breaking the kiss for air, the man panted above you. His warm breath hitting the tip of your nose, his forehead leaning on yours. His eyes were half-lidded, looking at you with pure desire swirling in them. The clear Saphire blue you had seen earlier had subdued to a more animalistic hue, pupils almost blown out, leaving barely any of the ocean like color to be seen.

You stood there in awe, gaze melting into his. He seemed like the embodiment of absolute perfection, and at that moment you just wanted to please him. Struggling to free your wrists you raised your hips grinding them against his clothed cock, eliciting a moan from the man above you. "Let me touch you please" You begged, lashes fluttering as you repeated your movement again, feeling his member twitch within the confine of his pants. Gojo smirked, raising an eyebrow at your needy tone, "I can't possibly refuse if you ask that nicely sweetheart". He teased, his vice grip on your wrists disappearing, taking this opportunity you turned him around sitting snugly on his hips. You grinned mischievously making sure to sit exactly on his large cock, feeling it twitch once again. God, he was hard, and he seemed so big it made your core swirl at the thoughts of him railing the absolute shit out of you. Gojo crossed his arms behind his neck, taking his sweet time to look you up and down, his usual grin covering his feature. It subdued quickly when your hands swiftly unzipped his pants dragging them down, making sure to drag your finger across his entire length. pursing on his lips, the man let out a moan, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "you're so big" You praised, not caring about inflating his ego. I mean, he deserved it right? That man was literally the most handsome guy you had ever come across, you just wanted to shower him with praises. He smirked, flashing you a wink "Oh? Am I really?" He teased in a sing-song voice playing coy. You only giggled, pulling down his black underwear, his cock colliding with his abdomen. Gojo hissed as the cold air hit his member, eyes half-lidded awaiting your next move with impatience. His dick was way beyond average both in length and girth. Tip rosy from being hard for so long, a bead of precum leaked slowly running down his entire length. You almost drooled at the sight, taking your sweet time to look at his cock, one finger coming to scoop the precum bringing it into your mouth. You moaned your tongue swirling and twirling around your digit, already intoxicated by his delicious taste. "Let me taste you again baby" he ordered his voice low, as he sat up. Taking his finger out of your mouth, you extended your arm forward, Gojo grabbing a hold of your wrist, tongue extending, licking the digit clean. He hummed lowly, eyes locked with yours as he did so. Pink muscle leaving no surface of his finger untouched, he moaned your name before leaning back down. "Suck me" You felt your heart rate spike up, your juice leaking from your core at the mere order from Gojo. You nodded, eyes dropping to his rock hard cock, hands settling on the base. Your tongue darted out, licking a clean stripe from the base to his engorged tip, mouth closing on it. You twirled your tongue a couple of times, feeling his large hands grab a hold of your hair. "That's my good girl" The mere words made you moan around his cock, the vibration only intensifying the pleasure for Gojo who threw his head back against the couch. Taking as much as you possibly could fit of his dick in your mouth, your hands moved around his shaft and balls desperately trying to bring him the utmost pleasure. It was working as groans and growls, escaped from Gojo's parted lips, half-lidded eyes never breaking away from you. "You look so good taking my cock like that baby-" He paused, hands massaging your scalp as if thanking you for the absolute best blow job he had, "but it's my turn now" and with that, he pulled you away from his cock, a thin string of saliva connecting you to his member. Leaning up he didn't hesitate a single second to capture your lips again into a kiss, a hand caressing your cheek guiding you back down under him. "You did amazing" He whispered, making you blush, "Thank y-" You squealed, feeling him drag you on the edge of the couch, your legs dangling off of it. “Now then, spread those pretty legs for me won't you?” He licked his lips, the cherry lips balm coating his velvety muscle. You couldn’t help but comply, long digits sliding across your soaked panties, index finger flicking where he knew exactly where your bundle of nerve was. He chuckled lowly, a thin coat of lust covering his sapphire irises. His fingers were already shiny with your essence, and he hadn’t even made direct contact with your core yet. “So wet for me already baby, did you enjoy sucking my cock that much?” He teased, knowing damned well the answer already. The silver-haired man hooked his fingers on the side of your panties, mouth almost watering at the sight of your glistening folds. You mewled, eyes glassy trying to push your core closer to him, eliciting yet another dark chuckle from him. “Needy little thing” his voice was coated with lust, azure eyes locking with yours. One of his long finger slowly parted your folds, collecting your glistening essence on his finger before plopping it in his mouth. He moaned, tasting you, “You taste even better than I’d imagined” “Stop teasing me” You managed to mutter between moans, a grin spreading on his face at your voice. Tilting his head to the side, his index finger twirled around your pearl never giving it the attention it oh so desired. “Beg for it” His voice was raspy, blowing hot air on your clit before flashing you a wink. Your cheeks, well your whole being, felt on fire. “Please eat me out-” You whimpered out, hoping it was enough to satisfy him. Your mind was into a frenzy, thoughts and sentences jumbling into one another, unable to form cohesive sentences. Chuckling, he pressed a soft kiss to your inner right thigh, “Tell me if i’m wrong but, a good girl like you can do better, right?” You threw your head back against his satin pillow, he really was playing hard to get. “ God Gojo please- just make me cum over your tongue already, I need you so badly!” You screamed out in frustration, fists clenching. At that point you didn’t care about anything but to feel his warm tongue on you, tasting your juices Cock twitching at your words, the sorcerer felt his own self restraint slowly crumble to pieces. He just wanted to take you right there, right now, to dick you down until you couldn’t walk anymore. He wanted to break you. You couldn't hold back the moan as you felt his breath hover right above your clit, “So obedient” he praised, before his tongue darted out licking a clean strip, before latching unto your bundle of nerves. Your reaction was instant, head thrown back as a fountain of moans of his name echoed within the room. Gojo felt his self restraint crumble to pieces, every pores in his body aching for him to bend you into a mating press and drill ino your pretty pussy. Yet, at the same time, the way your juices leaked around his mouth drove him to the brinks of insanity. Sapphire gaze darting back and forth between your glistening folds and your flushed face, he soon felt himself grind his aching cock against the side of the bed, desperately seeking friction. Your hands soon found themselves tangled into his ivory locks, only pressing him closer and closer to your soaked core. “G-Gojo” You cooed, feeling your release build up incredibly fast. Damn he was good, there was no denying it. The way he softened his tongue just enough to roll and lap at your clit, while his large hands spread your thighs, nails digging into your plush skin. The man was eating you out as if it was his last meal. “Yes my darling?” He purred, not breaking the contact with your pussy, hot air from his words only pushing you closer to the edge, the pet name not helping either. Noticing the way your cunt quivered at his word, the sorcerer raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Oh? Are pet names your weakness, my love?” He asked, even as he already knew the answer. His melodic voice would have been enough alone to push you into bliss, but right before you could cum, thighs shaking and hips stuttering, he pulled away. His keen eyes knew, right away the signs of your oh so awaited orgasm, only to deny it so sweetly. Your eyebrows furrowed, and before you could even retort about your stolen orgasm, the man was pinning you down, lips crashing unto yours. “God- you drive me crazy you know.” His sweet words made you swoon, however you tried as best as possible to keep reminding yourself that the man probably had partners left and right. I mean, with his look and absolute perfect personality? Who wouldn’t want him? You had to keep yourself grounded, or at least try to. One of his hand coming to stroke the side of your cheek brought you back to reality, as his forehead laid on yours. His cerulean eyes gazing into yours, before you felt the tip of his cock align with your drenched cunt. “Is this okay?” He murmured, holding himself up with one hand which only accentuated his biceps. You couldn’t help but nodd, of course you wanted him to rearrange your insides, to mold you into his cock. “I need to hear it dear” He pressed a kiss on your forehead, head tilted to the side, surprisingly patiently awaiting your response. Leaning up slightly, you captures his lips in yet another kiss before sliding your hand between your bodies and grasping his cock. “Fuck me before I do it myself” Gojo’s eyebrow raised, before he chuckled darkly. Taking a hold of your wrist he pinned them both above your head, one large hand way more than enough to hold them tightly into places. “Can’t leave you unsatisfied now, can I” and with that he pushed his length into you. You swore you could feel the tip of his cock hit your cervix, molding your insides to his dick. The stretch was slightly painful, but oh dear god it felt amazing. Hips now flush against yours, he leaned back slightly discarding his shirt, throwing it on the floor somewhere. His kin glistened with a thin layer of sweat, muscles defined and flexing under the pleasure he was currently under. Noticing your lingering gaze his hand grasped your knees throwing them over his shoulder. You yelped, before he pressed a kiss against your ankle. “Look at me baby” He purred before drilling into your core. Your mewled and gasped, hands desperately seeking to hold unto dear life. His cock quite literally rearrnged your insides, Gojo looking down at your through his ivory lashes, lips stuck between his teeth. He was slightly silent asides from some pants and grunts here and there, as he wished to hear every little sound you made. Nails digging into your thighs, he let out a low groan as his pace never faltered, gaze darting between your pussy eagerly sucking him up and your fucked out face. “You’re taking me so well” He purred, before his hips came to meet yours at a rougher pace, almost sending you flying into the headboard if it wasnt for his hold unto your thighs. “So good to me-” His voice broke as he let out another groan. Your mewls and moans only spurred him on, before a trembling hand reached toward his face. “K-Kiss me-” You managed to mumble between incoherent babbles as he fucked your brain out. Gojo smirked, before gently dropping your knees and leaning down eagerly sealing your lips into yet another kiss. “Dont go and fall for me now-” He whispered between choked out groans, a sly smirk plastered on his features. As your hands tangled themselves into his locks he bit down on his lips, gaze lingering on your face. The way your cheeks burned and glossy eyes stared back at him, Gojo couldn’t help but latch his lips unto the soft skin of your neck earning a yelp from you. His cocky personality had subdued, leaving a rather soft persona underneath. Hips stuttering, he felt yourself clench tighter around him only signalling that you’d soon back into pure bliss. There was no way that he’d ever finish before you, prioritizing the needs of his partners way before his own. A string of moans fell from your lips as his bit down and sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. Feeling him smirk against your skin, he lapped at the spot teasingly “You’re gonna cum on my cock baby?” He cooed, blowing hot air, pace never faltering in the slightest. You could only manage a weak nodd, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the sheer pleasure cursing through your veins. A loud moan of his name fell from your lips as you felt yourself unravel on his dick. Gojo groaned feeling you spasm around his cock, draging himself into the bliss as well. Leaning down he kissed you, encaging you between his arms as he rutted into your oversensitive pussy, hot milky cum tainting your walls white. “Fuck-” He cursed, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his, dick twitchnig into the depths of your cunt. It wasnt long until he let himself fall on top of you burying his head into the crook of your neck. Not even bothering to take his cock out, Gojo pressed feather like kisses all over your now hickey covered skin, eliciting a small giggle from you. “That was amazing” You purred, one hand running up and down his bare back. It was rare for the man to be so relaxed after such encounter, not that he’d usually ask his partner to seek themselves out of his house but, this time it felt different. “Thank you, thank you” Came his smug reply, before he lifted his face cerulean eyes locking with yours. Taking his dick out from inside your cum soaked core, He grinned, before rolling you over so you were now laying by his side, head resting on top of his chest. Your heart was hammering against your chest, as if clarity was hitting you full force. Here you were, snuggling with this handsome man you had met earlier, and yet you felt like you’ve known him forever. “Ah- what a bad host I am. Let me clean you up” Gojo suddenly exclaimed, before making his way to the bathroom to fetch a warm wet cloth for you. After cleaning himself up quickly, but effectively he was back into the room with a glass of water and the cloth. You blushed before telling him you could clean yourself to which he agreed, handing you the water. “Do you need a spare of clothe?” He questioned now rummaging through his drawers. The question took you aback, blinking as you stared at him in silence for a few moment. You weren’t expecting to spend the night at his place, not that you were complaining, but it felt too good to be true, really like fate had somehow brought the two of you together. “Did I fuck you too good that you forgot how to speak lovely?” His voice brought you back to reality as he smugly grinned at you, leaning on the drawer. He looked absolutely ethereal, messy locks framing his pale face and body sculpted by the gods themselves. “Shut it-” “I’ll take that as a yes” He cooed, before throwing you a large black shirt. You grasped it mid-air, giggling, as he eyed you with a smile. That was until you spoke up, putting the shirt on, “Is it really okay for me to stay here tonight?” You couldnt help but voice your thoughts before earning a chuckled from the sorcerer himself. “Well I dont mind driving you back home if this makes you uncomfortable.” He paused, sounding serious for once, glancing at his car keys situated on the small wooden table by his bed. “But, we’re not done for the night, aren’t we?” He flashed you a wink, earning a blush from you. His cocky self seemed to back in full throttle. Seeing your reddened face he couldnt help but laugh, putting on a pair of looser grey sweatpants as he spoke “Besides as much as I loved hearing your beautiful moans of my name Id also like for us to share actual conversations-” Throwing a pillow at him, his hand came to arrest it before it hit his face. Seeing your embarrassed look, he broke into laughter, throwing himself back on the bed besides you. “Dont say such embarrassing thing” You poked his side in a teasing manner feeling satisfied with his answer. Gojo grinned letting his head rest in your laps, looking up at you with doe eyes. The night’s soft breeze twirled into the room, your hand caressing Gojo’s hair, twirling a piece between your pointer and middle finger. The neon alarm clock showed in flashy red numbers: 5:06 am. You merely chuckled under your breath, feeling as if this night had been one hell of a rollercoaster. Gojo silently stared at you, feeling relaxed as you played with his hair. “Tired?” He questioned, taking your hand before pressing a soft kiss on your palm, earning yet another blush from you. “Not really” He hummed, kind of amusing you how his cocky persona had subdued into this calmer one. Gojo’s chest rose and fell slowly, as the rhythm of his breathing relaxed, feeling comfortable in your embrace. Still holding unto your hand, he gave it a light squeeze, gaining back your attention “So, since it's already morning” He paused, throwing a glance toward the alarm clock,” Wanna order some food and talk the night away my sweet Y/N?”

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back to masterlist? 

[istadris]

Alright, I have time to think about this subject calmly so here are my thoughts :

1)It’s fine, no offense taken I’ll admit I may have worded my reblog a bit harshly but I know you’re not the kind to be mean or hurtful on purpose ^^;

3)That one is poor behaviour from the author...tags are here for a reason after all, especially when a story deals with heavy themes :c

2 & 4)I think this is where we disagree : this idea that there is “good” or “bad” content for a ship or a dynamic, and that if an author delves too much into “bad” content, it might mean they’re disturbed. If we start doing that, where do we draw the line? How much do you need to “prove” you’re not disturbed ? What does that even mean ? That they might secretly want to do such things to actual people ? Do we need to disclose our reasons for creating dark content? Our thought process ? Should we do the same for horror movies creators ? Someone can create very disturbing without having any malicious thoughts behind. Look at Junji Ito, whose mangas are masterworks of horror and yet (as far as we know) is a pretty chill guy in real life.

I also think the concept of “correct” content for a ship or show doesn’t sit well with me because I still have vivid memories of fic archives that would forbid slash content because it wasn’t “appropriate” for the characters to be gay, or whatever reason they had. You’ll tell me “but this is homophobia, nothing to do with dark content like torture” and fair enough, but again, where is the line ? Who gets to draw it ? Who gets to decide what is “genuine good content” for a ship ? I remember this post pointing out that coffee shop AUs, the stereotype of cute and vanilla fics, are not fun situations IRL. Is it bad to write about it then ?

Officially, Mario and Peach are barely shown kissing on the cheek. Is is wrong to write about them in mature situations?

While sometimes the Mario franchise deals with heavy themes, most of the time, it is an innocent and optimistic story where the heroes get a happy ending. Is it forbidden to write sad fics in this verse? Bad endings ? Tragedies? Mature content ? Bloody situations?  

Again, nothing wrong with disliking a ship or tropes in a fic, no matter how benign.You cultivate your safe space, you tag your work appropriately, and you respect people’s boundaries, that is the basics of good fandom behaviour. I totally understand why you don’t like the fics you mentioned, I have read some of them and yeah, they’re heavy stuff. That’s your right to steer away from them and being disturbed by them, and not wanting to hear or talk about them because they’re too dark for your version of Mario.

I’ve talked enough, so I’ll just let this comic explain it better than I do.

Is it bad that I'm not on board with the bowuigi ship? I don't understand how people saw the Mario movie and said "ah yes, that is a gay dragon and a gay man" based off of one part and ignored the part where Bowser threatened to kill Luigi just to get at Mario, almost put him and others into lava, and worst of all, absolutely beat the crap out of his brother and almost roasted him to death- if it's outside of the super mario bros movie universe (bc I kinda see it as it's own timeline), then yeah I can see the appeal, but putting it in context of the movie's universe, it's a little weird to me

See...I find it difficult to voice my opinions about ships because I simply fear any backlash.

There is a wholesome side to the Bowigi ship (which is mostly Luigi meeting and being dad to the Koopalings from what I've found - and it's sweet!).

What I don't like is the side of the Bowigi ship that has the (how do I put this...) disturbed individuals. Amongst the sea of Bowigi fics, more often than not, there's some really unsettling content. I won't list the stuff that comes up in these fics, but it's all dangerously dark and distressing. It honestly makes me very concerned for the individuals who wrote them; are they just trolling? Or do they really not understand what a healthy loving relationship is?

Overall, yes to me the Bowigi ship is a bit weird. But it's really the disturbing side that I get peeved with.

In another universe like the games yeah - but the movie verse is just not suited for it.

[rotationalsymmetry]

All right, since the subject has come up, y’all get my rant on the topic of “gaslighting is so misused these days.“

My experience is most people think abuse is far less common than it actually is.

After I started learning more about abuse, I kept running into these situations on Facebook or Reddit or what have you, where someone would talk about an experience they were having in a relationship, and I was noticing a couple possibly concerning things, and my thought was “well, that could be a sign of abuse, but probably it’s not.” And when this happened, over and over again, when I got more information it turned out that the partner unambiguously sexually assaulted them, or physically assaulted them, or ran up a bunch of credit in their name without telling them…every time, it turned out to be, not a false alarm, but so much worse than it initially sounded.

Likewise my experience in real life is when someone describes a particular experience they had as abusive, as sexual assault, etc, when I get more details it always or nearly always ends up worse than I’d initially thought. I have not encountered one person who said they’d been abused or attacked where I later learned more and decided they were exaggerating. Understating, downplaying, not calling it abuse or rape when it definitely is? All the time.

So, gaslighting. It‘s a bit of a fuzzy word, a bit intrinsically ambiguous. It means, more or less, “someone else had me convinced (/tried to convince me) that I was overreacting or too sensitive or just crazy and their interpretation of reality was right and mine was wrong, but now I think my interpretation was right and theirs was wrong” (and usually: “I think they did that on purpose.”) ”My mom hit me, and then when I confronted her about it she’d deny it and say I was making things up.” “My rapist had me convinced he really thought I wanted it, he had me convinced that I just hadn’t communicated well enough.” “My cheating ex got mad at me for not trusting him and told me I was a bad partner, but now I know he was cheating the whole time and my suspicions were correct.” These things are gaslighting. It is an extremely useful concept — there’s the initial harm, and then there’s this mind trip: that it didn’t happen, or it wasn’t malicious (when it was), or it wasn’t that big a deal (when it was.)

(There are social justice parallels: the Holocaust didn’t really happen, slavery was so long ago how could anyone possibly still be affected by it, that black man was holding a gun so the police officer was just acting in self defense. Any harm that gets followed up with “it didn’t happen, it happened but it wasn’t that bad, well maybe it was that bad but nobody had bad intentions“ is a harm multiplied.)

Is it possible some people are using the word badly? Probably. Are there some people claiming they were abused when they weren’t? Almost certainly. But my experience is that most of the time, if someone says “my ex (father, step-mom, etc) gaslit me”, then they’ve found appropriate vocabulary for a thing that actually happened, and immediately assuming “oh, people misuse the term a lot, probably this person wasn’t actually gaslit” is…an assumption that is going to be wrong, and harmfully wrong, a lot of the time.

If you’re not sure, you can either exist in a state of uncertainty, which is often the best approach with little to no downside, or you can ask clarifying questions (”oh, what do you mean by that?”) but please try to be a decent person and don’t cross-examine the person who’s just said they were abused like you’re Sherlock Holmes and you and you alone can get to the truth by zeroing in on any conceivable inconsistency in the other person’s story. There’s a huge difference between a curious, open-minded “do you mind telling me more?” (and genuinely listening) and ”I’m going to ask you a bunch of questions and go over every little detail with a fine toothed comb, because I’ve already decided you’re lying and I bet I can prove it.”

True skepticism is not just “you might be wrong/lying”, it’s also “my initial assumptions may be wrong.”

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing iii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 393

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“You’re bailing again?” Taehyung looks up from his stack of books for the first time in the last hour since the two of you have started your study date. Granted, he meant no spite but he didn’t understand what set you to flee. The name that was almost taboo to you; the name that brings more tugs to your heart that hurts than one that’s fond.

You glance up at him with meek eyes, “I have an office hour with my economics professor in half an hour.”

Taehyung purses his lips.

“This is the fourth time this week you’ve ditched.” Taehyung sounds mildly irritated and you don’t blame him. You made a promise months ago before mid-terms coming up that you’d help him with statistics. But before the two of you could ever get into the nitty-gritty details of math; somehow the forbidden name comes up.

“I know.” You say softly. “I’m sorry …” You don’t say anything else because your heart is speeding up in a way that is anxiety-inducing. Because Taehyung off-handedly mentioned that Jungkook would be dropping by in a few; and you didn’t know when he’d turn up and you rather not stick around to find out.

His words still linger in your mind and every time there was any prompt to remind you of his face, or his name—you remember the way his words sounded so assured in the context of the situation first. You remember the malevolence that lied behind his usually kind eyes. But it’s like the eyes filled with desire in a one-dimensional view of your body replaced the youthful mirth you grew up with.

“Look.” Taehyung sighs, pushing himself up to look at you with a stern stare. “If you don’t want to tutor me that’s fine. I can find another tutor. But I’d appreciate if you’d let me know beforehand so I don’t have to come all the way just for an hour then have you leave once the content begins to get tougher.”

Taehyung was by no means being rude or outwardly offensive. He was straightforward and you appreciated that he was honest with you. And rather, you feel guilty of the fact that you bailed for your own selfish reasons.

“I do want to tutor you.” You tell him, fiddling with your fingers as your eyes dart to the doors of the library. “It really just slipped my mind.”

It sounds lame, even to you; and Taehyung picks up on it too.

“You don’t forget things like this.” He says pointedly. “It’s like every time I mention—”

Taehyung stops himself and your eyes dart away, hands already tugging your bag over your shoulder. Maybe if you sped up, he wouldn’t stare at you with an inquisitive stare that looked similar to one of realisation.

“Did something happen between you and Kook?”

You wince. Taehyung is observant.

“Are the two of you—?”

“I’m fine.” You snap, tone defensive and on edge when you hear the bell of the library door ring. You don’t dare to turn to look. “We’re fine.”

“_____ …” Taehyung frowns.

“I gotta go. Okay?” You huff, offering one last apologetic look before you turn to leave. But in your haste, you bump into a solid figure and you’re terrified that it’s—

“Careful.” A deeper, unfamiliar but welcomed voice murmurs.

When your eyes look up, it’s just someone you recognise from Jungkook’s football games. You were sure he was a key player too. His stature was definitely one of an athlete. He was tall, broad, and firm; and the black shirt that hugged his chest only emphasised your guess.

“S-Sorry.” You squeak, looking down.

You brush past him before he can get another word in, and only when you slip past him do you see Jungkook lingering behind with a frown on his face.

“______—” He calls.

You’re able to leave before he can get a hold of you; and that only causes the frown on Jungkook’s face to harden.

When the door rings once more to signal your departure, Jungkook is already sat with Taehyung and the other person that bumped into you.

“What’s up with the two of you?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook stiffens and responds with a grit of his teeth. “Nothing.”

Taehyung doesn’t look convinced and Namjoon—though recently enlightened with the fact that there was potentially something brewing between the two of you—was also observant enough to pick up on the tense atmosphere that you left with.

“Aren’t the two of you super close?” Namjoon says offhandedly, already shifting through his assignments while he lays them out.

Jungkook wants to let out a dry scoff at the assumption. Sure, the two of you were close. He isn’t so sure about that anymore.

“You’re clearly lying to me.” Taehyung snorts. “So whatever it is the two of you are keeping a secret please just sort it out because I need _____ here to tutor me and you’re getting in the way of my education.”

Taehyung mostly says this as a joke, but it strikes Jungkook straight where it’s vulnerable. He wasn’t going to be the first to break, nor will he indulge Taehyung into what he said to you in the same library they were in at this very moment.

So instead, Jungkook brushes it off like he’s been doing so more recently than ever.

“Whatever.” He mutters.

For some reason, you see Jungkook again on the same day—accompanied by the same person that you bumped into.

You realise that you’ve spent more time avoiding him than dealing with your feelings after what transpired. But you’re weak and you suppose you’ve always been weak when it came to Jungkook.

It was difficult … to say the least. Because while Jungkook’s words were malicious and filled with the intent to hurt and break you; the better (and foolish) part of you wanted to believe that he was angry. Driven by emotions that he wasn’t thinking straight. But while you were naive, you were also substantially aware that there had to be some form of truth to the words he’s thrown at you.

But this was the same Jungkook that you grew up with, the young boy you’ve somehow seen transition from awkward and endearing teen to … to the confident and assured man he was. You didn’t want to make any excuses for him but you’ve always been soft. And you hated that your eyes somehow still linger on his approaching figure when the rational side of your brain tells you to run away.

However, it’s not him who greets you. It’s his friend. The one you vaguely recognise but can’t quite put a name to a face.

“Hey!” He calls out to you.

His smile is easy with a dimple appearing on his cheeks. He looks kind and soft for someone that was easily a head taller than you were, and despite his height—there was something oddly comforting about the way he approaches you as if he knows you.

You try to ignore the coldness from Jungkook’s end and remind yourself that you should’ve felt angry—not the other way around.

“Hi?” You say, or more appropriately ask.

Jungkook’s expression is still blank; every time your eyes briefly linger on his face you wonder how it’d ended up this way.

“_____, right? I’ve seen you at a few of our games.” His friend enters a conversation so seamlessly. “Kook’s never introduced us, though.”

You clear your throat and you hope your face isn’t a dead giveaway of your discomfort. Especially when you blatantly ignore Jungkook’s piercing stare on the side of your temple.

“I don’t … mingle around that much.” You say softly,

And it’s parallel to the image that Jungkook has of you. The quiet, timid girl that’s free time is consumed with books and assignments than a social life to make up for it. You used to think that maybe you weren’t the type that enjoyed large or loud gatherings. But Jungkook’s voice only makes you wonder if you were the problem instead.

“Well, I’m Namjoon.” He smiles at you, offering a grin filled with teeth that you find yourself unconsciously returning, albeit awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you … uh … Namjoon.” You mumble, and your eyes nearly land on Jungkook’s face out of pure habit, but you stop yourself before you hurt yourself even more.

“It’s nice to formally meet you too. I’ve been asking Jungkook to introduce the two of us since forever ago but he seemed dead set on keeping you to himself.” Namjoon jokes lightly. And you almost miss it, but you swear Jungkook stiffens by his side.

“Ah …” You reply lamely, fingering your strap as you shift on your heels.

It feels awkward to not acknowledge Jungkook; you’re wondering if Namjoon picks up on the cold air between the both of you. Namjoon looks like he’s thinking of something, but before he can say anything—Jungkook is tugging his arm roughly.

“We have practice.” Jungkook grits, finally making himself known.

Your eyes dart to your feet, and you hate how small you feel in his presence. It should’ve been easy but this was the hardest part of it all. Pretending like you were objectively okay when his words constantly lingered at the back of your mind.

“Go ahead without me. I want to ask _____ something.” Namjoon shrugs Jungkook’s hand off of him. And this time you catch the venomous glare that he shoots his friend, accompanied by the clench of his jaw.

“Coach will—”

“I’m the captain, remember?” Namjoon snorts, but it’s not condescending. Just a reminder.

Jungkook purses his lips and his eyes dart between the two of you; and you know him well enough to know that there’s something on his mind, especially with the way he nibbles on his bottom lip.

“Don’t be late.” Jungkook grits, stomping off in the other direction without even sparing you a glance.

You frown at him because he was the one that came to you that day unwarranted; treating you like absolutely nothing as if there weren’t years of history behind the two of you.

But Namjoon is large enough to distract you because he quite literally blocks the view of Jungkook’s disappearing body with his own when he stands right in front of you.

“Sorry about that.” Namjoon looks sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind …” He trails off as he scratches the back of his neck.

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “N-No! It’s fine. Just … uh … what’s up?” You wince inwardly at your horrible social skills and you have a slight understanding of why Jungkook pointed out the things he did. Maybe he was right—

“I—well …” Namjoon mumbles, and he seems less assured than he was earlier. “I think—you’re really—cool?—and smart—you seem nice so … sorry! God.” He rambles as he brushes his hands over his face.

You blink at him.

Namjoon takes your reaction as a bad one as he winces, chuckling lowly.

“I’m sorry. I’m not this … awkward.” He tells you.

You nod your head slowly trying to process his words. And you feel a little guilty knowing that your lack of response probably pushes Namjoon further into his shell. But he has a glare in his eye that shows that he won’t be affected so easily.

“Well.” He clears his throat. “I follow your podcast. And I think it’s really great. You offer some really interesting perspectives on the War on Drugs—or as you mentioned—the disproportionate effects of racial tension that lead to unjustified or mass incarceration rates in the U.S.”

Somehow you know you’ve said the exact same words in the monthly podcast you do with the International Relations department for extra credit. But when Namjoon speaks, it’s as if he’s carefully picking apart the context and nuance of your words so carefully before he quotes it back to you; as if he treats your opinion with heavy regard and not one of the light matters.

You feel flattered.

“Oh.” You blink. “Thank you?”

Namjoon offers you an easy grin. And you recall: captain of the football team, he says? He doesn’t really … fit the stereotype. Besides the fact that he looked insanely fit. He was gentle, that much you could tell. But you also were a little biased when it came to footballers because you only had Jungkook to compare him with.

“Sorry for just springing that on you.” He apologises sheepishly and you’re even more confused as to why he feels the need to say sorry. “It’s just that Kook was always so bitchy about introducing me to you whenever I asked so … I thought why not take the chance myself?”

You gape at him. You don’t know what to do with the set of new information you’re presented with. Firstly, the fact that someone like Namjoon paid attention to a nobody like you? And secondly, the weird revelation that Jungkook somehow gate kept his friendship … or whatever the fuck it was … with you.

“No, no.” You shake your head, “I’m really flattered. Thank you. No one’s ever … told me that before.” You give him a gentle smile because that’s all you can muster.

Namjoon returns it tenfold as he hikes his bag across his shoulder.

“Well, I gotta go now. Practice calls.” He jokes, waving at you. For a moment, he stills; as if remembering something before he fishes out a piece of paper from his pocket and shoves it to you in a haste.

“What is—?”

“My number. You know—if you ever want to talk. About … stuff. I think you’re super smart—and intelligent. They’re synonymous but yeah. If you want.” He rambles.

You blink up at him and before you can muster a response, he’s darting away.

You watch his figure retreat and notice that Jungkook is waiting for him a good distance away. But his eyes aren’t on Namjoon’s somewhat giddy figure—but on you.

He stares at you long and hard, and you feel conflicted. The paper in your hand nearly chafes, but the feeling is easily forgotten when his expression hardens.

When Namjoon reaches him with a clasp to his back, the pair walks off. Not before he gives you one passing glance over his shoulder that leaves you feeling more restless than ever.

[heart-forge]

The lack of customizability in Hybrid honestly makes me so sad :( I really wanted to love this game but it just doesn't feel like an interactive fiction to me, it just feels like fiction. I'm sure the story is gonna be great but not being able to pick a name or the pronouns I'm actually comfortable with makes this not a great game for me. Of course it's not your responsibility to care what some random reader thinks, and tons of people already love your story so feel free to ignore this. <3

This is extremely obnoxious of you to send out and ending the message with “but it doesn’t matter what I think” doesn’t make it less of a rude thing to send. I’m going to break this down and it’s going to be the last time I have this discussion about Zed.

You can customise:

- Zed’s entire appearance, once that becomes relevant

- Zed’s personality, in the same way as the other games

- Zed’s romance and romantic inclinations, same as in all the other games

The only thing you can’t pick on Zed is the name and the pronouns, and if you’re pissy about that and not the veritable legion of games where you’re locked into a cis character, then you’re just coming into a NB creator’s inbox to bitch about how uncomfortable you are to have to pick a gender you’re not, to which I say welcome to my world. Somehow I’ve managed to live this long, so I have high hopes for you managing to live through one game where you can pick literally a load of different pronouns, but are locked to a nonbinary gender expression.

I chose to respond to this one because I decided that I’ve been overly polite about the myriad of complaints about Zed I’ve gotten since Hybrid launched, so now I’m not going to be polite about it anymore. If you’re unable to empathise with a character because they’re NB, that’s a you problem, not a me problem, and stay the hell out of my inbox with it.

I also don’t want any follow up messages where you tell me you’re trans so actually I’m the asshole for making my story the way I want it and actually you’re very noble for complaining about a singular game wherein you’re in a different geographical position under the trans umbrella. Cis or trans, your lack of empathy is not my problem and it would have cost you zero dollars to not send me this and simply not play the game if it made you uncomfortable.

So, to summarise in easy bullet points:

1) Don’t send shit like this to creators, and definitely do not send this shit to creators totally unprompted. How does this help? How does this do anything? What’s the point of this except to purposely upset me?

2) I don’t care. Don’t play my games, any of them.

3) I’m not going to ingore this because you don’t get to come into my inbox, act like a total asshole (but make sure to put a heart emoji so it doesn’t seem like you’re being a total asshole) and then just have your bad behaviour ignored.

4) Have a serious sit down with yourself and ask yourself why exactly you thought this was an appropriate message to send to anyone, especially because you either a) did not read the complaints I got about Zed before and thought you were being what, brave by telling me actually you don’t like that I made one game that I made expressly because I had never experienced a gender-locked NB-spectrum game that wasn’t about The Struggle, or b) you read all of it and didn’t care and maliciously sent the message anyway.

I am never going to change Zed’s gender options, and things like this are explicitly what makes it so difficult for me to add she/he to the pronoun options because I don’t want people like you to think you can get away with pretending that Zed isn’t NB. I’m going to add this to the FAQ but I don’t want any more messages like this ever again. I do not care if NB people existing makes you uncomfortable. You’re playing a game, you’re not being asked to literally change your gender expression. 

Have a little fucking decorum next time.

[the-chosen-none]

I think I’ve come to a realization about what Arroyo really is...

Even though it wasn’t founded that long ago in the grand scheme of things, what little we do know about its inner workings is that they have a polytheistic belief system and their own rituals and myths, including venerating their founder the Vault Dweller to an almost godlike-level, that don’t seem to have anything to do with any common religions practiced in the U.S. It’s vaguely pagan mixed with a very generalized idea of what Native American culture was supposed to be like pre-colonization.

Detailed religions like that don’t spring up out of nowhere across only a few generations, the founders of Arroyo would have had to make that shit up. It’s not like one of those belief systems where all the lore stuff is purely metaphorical to them, no- people like Hakunin GENUINELY believe their gods, whatever they may be, are real, which would especially be the case for those born into it.

The Fallout Bible confirmed that Arroyo’s tribalism came about from the former vault dwellers’ rejection of the Vaults and the technology that led to everything bad currently happening. Therefore, their quick isolation from the outside world besides trading and getting back to nature or whatever is by design from the founders.

Arroyo doesn’t seem to forbid the study of modern science, medicine, engineering, etc. outright since the Chosen One can specialize in those things and also somehow know how to drive a car, but by and large the villagers are ignorant of these things, treating objects like the GECK as magic.

A religion pulled out of their asses, a worship of their original founder, a purposeful isolationism... guys, I think Arroyo is a cult.

Maybe not a malicious one, and I don’t think the writers intended it to be one, but it’s motivations for being founded are suspect. It rubs me the wrong way how it’s a kind of cultural appropriation of indigenous Americans that’s not even based off of any specific culture, as if the founders were like “we need to connect with nature again, but how do we do that? Hmm... I guess the Indians were one with nature, we should act like them!” So they just slapped together some stereotypical imagery and myths and called it a day.

I highly doubt the writers were doing some kind of biting satire about how a lot of Americans like to idealize indigenous iconography without really contending with the realities of colonization, and that Arroyo was supposed to be the logical extreme of that. Besides having the option to poke fun at their beliefs sometimes, none of these themes are confronted.

What we’re left with is that in-universe, there is a most likely unintentional implication that the founders of Arroyo manipulated those born into the village to believe in a fake religion built on a shaky foundation out of bits and pieces of cultures that are not theirs purely out of spite for the outside world, and out-of-universe, Arroyo is an example of a group of white dudes trying to write a quirky group that’s “other” from what most gamers are familiar with.

We don’t know much about what became of Arroyo after they reunited with the remaining Vault 13 dwellers besides that they grew very prosperous. Hopefully someday they abandoned all that baggage.

If any of the Fallout 2 writers have ever acknowledged these issues, I don’t know about it, so feel free to tell me about it.

Oh, well. Good thing the Fallout writers never, EVER did anything like that again but even worse, RIGHT? RIGHT??? THAT WOULD BE SILLY. THEY WOULDN’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE AGAIN OVER TEN YEARS LATER, WOULD THEY????

[kpop-zone]

Bully Blackpink having a crush on their victim

Trigger Warning: bullying, violence, insults, blood

Jisoo

“Who’s that?”

All the heads of Jisoo’s minions turned around simultaneously as you walked past them in the hallway, causing you to duck your head and to pick up your pace.

“That’s Y/N L/N. We have pretty much the same classes since primary school.”

Lisa answered nonchalantly and Jisoo watched how you disappeared out of sight with a frown.

You had been attending the same school as her all this time? How come she had never noticed you? Sure, it was hard to rule over hundreds of students, but she still took a pride in her ability to remember the faces of all the people that she had ever met. You must have been smart enough to stay off her radar, because she was sure that she would have never forgotten your face. Something about it had instantly caught her attention and triggered the urge to know everything about you.

“Tell me everything about Y/N. Now.”

Jisoo ordered Lisa without averting her gaze from the door that you had just disappeared in.

“But what about class?”

Lisa stuttered in confusion, causing Jisoo to look at her with an icy expression.

“Now.”

She replied firmly and Lisa instantly nodded her head in fear.

Too much time had already been wasted. Jisoo needed to know whether you could be her partner in crime; she needed to know if she could make you hers. So Lisa needed to tell her everything that she had learned about you in all those years. Every single detail. Jisoo forced Lisa to talk for almost an hour, but eventually she had collected enough information and made a decision.

“Save a bigger table in the cafeteria today. We need one more seat.”

Without waiting for Lisa’s response, Jisoo walked to the room that you had disappeared in earlier just when the bell rang to indicate the end of the lesson. Some students wanted to rush out the door, but as soon as they saw Jisoo they all made room for her. Quickly, she scanned their faces, but you weren’t one of them, so she pushed them away and entered the classroom. You were still packing your stuff, oblivious to what was going on right now opposing to the rest of your classmates who tried their best to evaporate into thin air as quickly as possible. Calmly, you gathered all your books and Jisoo walked up to you with a smile playing on her lips. Your obliviousness was adorable.

“How was class?”

Her question caused you to flinch and to drop all your books consequently. Slowly, you turned around with horror reflecting in your eyes, but Jisoo couldn’t hold that against you. You couldn’t know that she was here with only the best intentions. Maybe she should just cut straight to the point.

“You’re having lunch with me today.”

Jisoo smiled, trying to calm your nerves, but you still looked like you had just seen a ghost.

“W-what?”

You stuttered while hugging your books closely to your body after picking them up.

“You’ve caught my attention earlier. And now I’d like to take you for lunch. I’ll even pay for your snacks.”

Jisoo winked, not planning to keep her attraction a secret. There was no way that you could resist her charm.

“T-thank you for the offer, b-but I’m already meeting with my friends.”

Your reply caught her off guard and you almost managed to slip past her, but in the last second, Jisoo held out her arm to cut off your way. Were you playing hard to get? Didn’t you know that she didn’t like games? Anger started to seethe inside of her, but Jisoo took a deep breath, reminding herself that she wanted to turn you from one of her victims to her equal. Therefore, she forced a smile back on her lips and turned to you.

“I’m sorry, I must have conveyed the wrong impression. This wasn’t a question. You are having lunch with me.”

With every word, Jisoo took a step closer to you until you were pressed against your table. You were trembling in fear by now, causing her to pat your cheek lightly.

“Aw don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll forgive you for your mistake. You’ll get the hang of it.”

She cooed before grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the classroom.

You were hers now.

Jennie

Jennie angrily stared at you from across the cafeteria. How dare you? How dare you affecting her authority? Practically, you hadn’t really done anything. Like all the other students, you tried your best to avoid her at all cost and endured her evil games bravely. But you still had managed to get into her head. You were all that she could ever think about and to make everything worse, she had caught herself sparing you and your friends a few times already. Your audacity was unbelievable. She needed to make you pay for it.

“Who’s in the mood for a little fun?”

All of Jennie’s friends immediately looked at her with a mischievous glint in their eyes, obviously intrigued by her proposition. They were always up to cause some trouble.

Wordlessly, they followed Jennie out of the cafeteria, trusting their leader to find them an appropriate occupation. And Jennie already had a very special one in mind. After observing you for almost a month, she knew everything about you. Your habits, your likings and your schedule. So she knew that today was the only day you had to walk from the cafeteria to your classroom all on your own. It was the perfect opportunity. Together with her friends she hid in the restrooms that you had to pass to prevent you from seeing their attack coming. A few minutes passed and Jennie already started worrying that she had made a mistake but eventually she spotted you through the gap in the door.

“Now.”

She ordered, causing two of her friends to dash out the door in order to pounce on you.

You let out a surprised yelp and looked around for help, but all the other students in the hallway quickly turned a blind eye to what was happening, knowing that Jennie would make them pay if they would interfere. So your only chance to escape was by fighting back, but although you did a good job, Jennie’s friends maneuvered you into the restroom eventually and locked the door.

“What do you want?”

You yelled in desperation while looking at Jennie with panic reflecting in your eyes.

“Y/N, relax, we’re just gonna have some fun together. Right, guys?”

She feigned innocence and her friends laughed maliciously.

“W-what have I done?”

You stuttered when Jennie walked closer to you, causing her to smirk. At least you still seemed to be scared of her.

“You need to be put in your place again.”

She whispered while brushing your hair out of your face.

“But I didn’t do anything.”

You choked out in confusion while tears started to pool in your eyes, causing Jennie’s heart to ache suddenly. Her usual joy in torturing others was replaced by dread and she stared into your eyes bewildered. How were you able to affect her this way? Jennie couldn’t explain it, but she knew that her reputation could be ruined if she became soft for you. She couldn’t let that happen.

Therefore, Jennie turned around to her friends and nodded her head to allow them to do whatever they wanted with you. Wide grins spread on their faces and they slowly walked closer to you, savoring the look of horror in your face.

“Please, don’t do this!”

You begged and Jennie needed to turn away in order to not cave in. She heard how her friends pushed you into one of the stalls to empty the content of your backpack into the toilet and to do whatever other evil came to their minds. It was unbearable for Jennie to hear and she bolted out the door.

What was she supposed to do with you?

Chaeyoung

“I’m going to make her pay for this.”

Chaeyoung gritted through her teeth after her cheerleading coach had just told her that she needed to take at least one tutoring lesson because of her bad Math grades before she could lead the team again. Did she look like she needed the help of others?

“Come on...it’s not that bad. At least you can have some fun with the nerds...”

Jennie smirked next to her, causing Chaeyoung to cheer up a bit. She was right. Usually the geeks hid away in the library, the one place in school that Chaeyoung and her friends avoided. But now that she had to take tutoring lessons there, she could stir up their hideout a bit. Therefore, Chaeyoung signed up for a random math tutoring lesson that afternoon and excitedly made her way to the library after all her classes had ended.

There were several tables in the middle occupied by students, each one looking more pathetic than the other. As soon as they spotted her, their jaws dropped, and they looked at each other in fear, apparently knowing what was about to come.

“So which one of you losers will have the honor to spend the afternoon with me?”

She asked sweetly although her tone couldn’t take away the sting of her words.

“That would be me.”

You said from one of the tables while waving at Chaeyoung friendly, causing her to be taken aback for a second. You weren’t scared? Not knowing how to respond to you, she simply walked over to your table and sat down beside you.

“I’m glad you found your way here today! I’m Y/N and I’m going to be your tutor.”

You smiled and Chaeyoung needed to pinch herself in order to stop staring at you dumbfounded.

“Well that makes one of us. I could literally think of a billion different things that I’d rather do than to be stuck here in this smelly library with you.”

She rolled her eyes, but once again you stayed calm.

“Yeah I get that, but I’ll try to make this lesson as fun as possible! Well, I mean as fun as math can be.”

You giggled and Chaeyoung couldn’t help but notice how cute it sounded. All of a sudden, a curiosity overcame her and she needed to know more about you. Who was this nerdy, yet loveable loser in front of her?

“Are you new here?”

She asked, wondering whether your fearlessness was rooted in a lack of knowledge about her.

“No, I’ve been living here all my life already. We’ve actually had quite a few classes together already.”

You chuckled, apparently finding her question funny. You dared to laugh at her? Normally, she would have already made any other student pay for such a misconduct; yell at them till they cry, destroy their books, pour their beverage over them. The possibilities were endless, but for some reason she had inhibitions with you. Therefore, Chaeyoung simply settled for a verbal counterstroke.

“Well your face is pretty...unremarkable and not really worth remembering.”

Her words were supposed to sound iffy, but in the end, Chaeyoung’s voice betrayed her. It came out hesitant and quiet, because she didn’t believe her words herself. You were far from being unremarkable.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t really like attention, so I’m trying to fly under the radar.”

You flashed her one of your cute smiles again that managed to silence her with ease. You were trying to make her feel better after what she had just said to you? Your behavior was absolutely inexplicable for Chaeyoung and managed to make her behave for the rest of the lesson. Not once did she insult or disobey you. Like an obedient student, she worked through the exercises with you while attentively listening to your tips, not even realizing that an hour had already passed.

“Ok, so that’s it for today.”

You eventually closed her math book and Chaeyoung looked at the clock in surprise. Maybe she didn’t particularly have fun this afternoon, but she had definitely already spent her days worse. But of course, she would never admit that.

“Finally.”

She huffed and you chuckled while packing your stuff.

Together you left the library in silence, causing Chaeyoung to take nervous glances at you from the side. She felt awful for having insulted you earlier, but she didn’t want to apologize either. The least that she could do though was to thank you for your help. Therefore, she awkwardly cleared her throat once you came to a halt in front of the school.

“Um...thank you for you help. It seems like math does kind of make sense after all.”

She mumbled sheepishly and a big smile appeared on your face.

“I’m glad that I could help! I hope-“

Before you could finish your sentence, laughter from the side caused Chaeyoung to whip her head around in shock.

“Ouuu, Chaeng, did you find a new friend?”

Jennie asked spitefully, making the rest of the cheerleading squad laugh who had appeared out of thin air. They had probably just gathered for practice.

Shit.

You couldn’t be associated with her. That would absolutely kill her reputation. She wasn’t one of those losers that hid in the library. She wasn’t the sheep, she was the wolf. Therefore, Chaeyoung quickly joined in the laughter of her friends.

“Ew...gross.”

She scoffed before punching your books out of your hands and strutting down the stairs to her friends who yelled insults at you. It took all her strength to fake a smile and to not run back to you. But once she turned around and saw the betrayed look in your face, her heart seemed to be pierced by a hundred daggers.

This was all her fault. And she needed to fix this again.

Even if that meant that she had to ruin her math grade even more, just to be able to have more tutoring lessons with you.

Lalisa

When the bell rang to indicate the start of the next lesson, a wide grin appeared on Lisa’s face. She would have PE now; her favorite class. Not only because she was one of the most athletic students in school, but because you would be there. From the first moment that Lisa had laid her eyes on you, she knew that you were special. She felt drawn to you and soon her games with everyone else started to become boring. She only wanted to play with you. Unfortunately, however, you were smart and managed to slip through her fingertips most of the days. But on one day of the week, you couldn’t run away from her: the day of the PE lesson.

Therefore, Lisa for once made an effort to arrive to a class on time in order to be able to savor every single second with you. In lightning speed, she got changed in the locker room before entering the gym where you were already looking for her anxiously. Once you spotted her, you gulped thickly and tried to hide behind one of your friends, knowing too well what was about to come. Without paying attention to the teacher who was scolding Lisa for being a little late, she headed straight for you with a smug smirk on her lips.

“Hey gorgeous.”

She greeted you once she reached you while leaning so close to you that her lips almost touched your ear. You flinched when her breath hit your skin, causing her to grin in satisfaction.

Let the games begin.

To Lisa’s delight, the PE teacher ordered everyone to run a few laps to warm up which would give her plenty of time for a little chit chat with you. Like always, you started running like a maniac to get away from her, but it took Lisa merely a few seconds before she caught up to you.

“How is my favorite person doing? I’ve missed you!”

She winked at you, causing you to pick up your pace.

“Rude...”

Lisa scoffed before matching your pace. This time, however, she didn’t allow you to get away again. Instead, she took a big step forward in order to trip you up. Not having expected to meet an obstacle, you stumbled forward while rotating your arms frantically, trying to find your balance again. But it was of no use. With full force you collided with the floor and a silent yelp slipped past your lips. Alerted by the loud thud, your PE teacher immediately whipped her head around and Lisa waved at her friendly.

“Oops...my bad. Don’t worry teacher, I’ll help Y/N up.”

She yelled sweetly before turning to you.

“You didn’t answer my question, Y/N. That’s rude.”

Lisa pouted while choking down a giggle. You were looking so helpless right now. Reluctantly, you accepted her help and let her pull you to your feet before hobbling off.

“Next time you should answer.”

She shouted after you, but you chose to ignore her.

1:0 for her

The second round of your game wasn’t a long time in the coming. After your little incident, your teacher called everyone to the middle of the gym and announced a game of dodgeball. Maliciously, Lisa laughed, causing you to look at her in fear. Both of you knew that she would attack you over and over again until the end of the class. In anticipation, Lisa waited for the whistle of the teacher before sprinting to the middle of the field to grab a ball. Of course, none of your teammates dared to attack her, so Lisa could take her time to aim at you. She threw the ball with full force but unfortunately you managed to duck just in time. Impressive, Lisa though to herself. Nonetheless, your effort was in vain. She would get you. Over and over, you needed to flee her attacks until you were panting violently and looking like you were about to pass out.

This would be your defeat.  

One last time, Lisa aimed at you with a big grin plastered on her face, ready to take you out of the game. But before she could claim her victory, another ball suddenly hit you right in the face, causing you to conjure it in pain. Dumbfounded, Lisa looked back and forth between the ball in her hands and your bloody face. This wasn’t her doing. Anger suddenly started to seethe in her stomach, and she turned around to see that one of her teammates was laughing at you victoriously. He dared to hurt you? A rage that Lisa had never felt before completely blinded her and she darted at him without a care for any consequences. With one big leap, she tackled him and immediately pressed his face into the ground.

“Who do you think you are? Huh? If you dare to touch Y/N one more time, I will kill you.”

Lisa gritted through her teeth before she felt herself being pulled off the guy by the PE teacher.

This would get her into a lot of trouble. But she didn’t care. No one was allowed to touch you except her.