#Honestly how can you even not consider it

[monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my]

TW: Talk about mental health and sui ideation and sui attempt

I feel the need to talk more about Jayce's "attempt" again because of what I learned from his journal in the "Council Archives"

There's a fair argument to be made that Jayce was already in a very bad headspace even BEFORE the explosion in his apartment.

If you read Jayce's journals it feels like Jayce was ALREADY spiraling before he got kicked out of the academy. For a few reasons.

-----

1.Jayce was very isolated to begin with.

He was working on experiments he knew were illegal and was so paranoid about being found out he started coming up with insults to call another student who almost caught him throwing away a failed experiment.

He also seemed to only be able to cheer himself up by talking shit about other people's work and how everyone else just couldn't measure up to how important his work was and would be. And when he finally meets Viktor he talks about never really thinking he'd take to working with another scientist.

(Honestly, pre-act 1 Jayce comes off a little more like his LOL counterpart which make me believe Arcane Jayce meeting and working with Viktor as early as he did is what helped make him the version of himself he is in Arcane?)

------

2. Jayce was not really sleeping and his schoolwork and grades were going downhill.

He talks in his journal about the fact that he's not getting to sleep until sunrise a lot of nights because he was trying and failing to make the crystals work.

And as a direct consequence of not sleeping he talks about Heimerdinger (the DEAN) having to come talk to him because his grades are slipping.

Jayce literally decides to make a graph correlating his lack of sleep to his poor academic performance.

(Later he expresses concern that he might get expelled from the academy because his work is slipping that badly).

And remember all the while when he is so sleep-deprived he can't focus on coursework he is FULLY CONVINCED he can figure out Hextech. You know a whole new field of study. It doesn't work, shockingly.

------

3. Ximena was already worried about Jayce wellbeing and trying to get him to go outside and be around others.

He eats some snacks insults some people's work to himself and then goes back to doing what he was doing.

Not a lot to talk about with this one except it's no wonder she tried to get him to back off magic if she could already tell he wasn't okay especially when we consider the state he was in at that point.

You also see that both his mother and Heimerdinger were expressing valid concern for him only for him to brush it off.

-----

4. Near the end of the journal entries before we get to the ACT 1 content he says some concerning things considering his later attempt on his life.

First he starts to doubt what he's getting anywhere he remembers something Heimdinger once said about most inventors failing a 1000 times before succeeding and he makes a self-deprecating joke about "I suppose I must be closing in...".

Then he straight up says he can't see a path forward.

And when makes a pros and cons list of his experiments where he talks about how the work with the crystals is very dangerous and if he pushes to much it could kill him but also how he's in danger of getting expelled if he can't sort out his schoolwork.

and then he writes.

"Which is worse? Killed or expelled?"

Which is certainly a Harry Potter reference but also given his eventual attempt is very telling.

And it's closely followed by him saying his mom was worried about him, which... seems valid.

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

Also on a side note unrelated to the journal entries.

Jayce's attempt was not a choice made suddenly in a rush of emotion like Viktor's, he planned it.

Jayce not only left what was implied to be a suicide note he took the methodical time to literally WAX SEAL the note with his official house mark. And it took Viktor a long long while of talking to him to get him to back away from the ledge. He was fully committed to committing.

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

Final thoughts: I think Jayce was in a place in his mind backed into a corner.

He wasn't able to reach out for help or even trust anyone because of the nature of his work. He wasn't listening to people that were concerned about him. And the way in which Jayce was doing his work was damaging to himself and his life in general. He was spiraling.

He needed someone else there to share the weight of what he was trying to do, to be able to reach out to outside of his own head which was the person Viktor became to him.

Part of me even wonders if Jayce was already in a place where he might have ended up on that ledge without the explosion if he didn't change his ways or have a sudden breakthrough.

[desperate-gay]

Kristie mewis x reader panic attack or maybe a little relapse with reader and Kristie is there as her girlfriend .

Safe With You

Kristie Mewis x fem!reader

summary: during a girls’ night out, you encounter someone you never thought you’d see again, triggering a panic attack. Your best friend Kristie helps you through it and later helps reveal true feelings

“Ooo, this one right here!” Kelley yells, pointing out the downtown club. Some of the gotham girls, along with you, decided it was a beautiful night out and since you didn’t have any responsibilities the next day, it was a perfect time to go out.

“How many more do you think we’re gonna go to?” You ask, leaning over to Kristie’s ear so no other pondering friends can listen in.

“Let’s hope this will be the last.” Kristie huffs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and dragging you along with the group.

None of the girls are drunk but most are definitely tipsy. You have only had about two and a half drinks within the past couple of hours, so you’re not feeling any effects while Kristie has only had three.

Kelley is the most drunk out of everyone, even the younglings, and when Kelley is drunk, she never wants to stop partying. Many of the girls are not protesting considering this is the first free day they have had in weeks, especially Ali with having to take care of her kids.

The group finds a table somewhat in the corner of the bar, and a few of the girls go to the bar to order drinks. Kristie and you both sit on the high-top chairs across from Midge and Jenna. Kristie and Midge are in a heated discussion on what’s the best way to style and take care of your eyebrows while you and Jenna watch them with amused smiles.

Suddenly, a prickling at the back of your neck makes you turn around and flit your gaze nervously across the crowded room, almost as if a sudden fog made its way into the bar. As much as you look, you can’t seem to find anything out of the ordinary.

Relief washes over your face when Lynn arrives with hands full of drinks, sparking cheers around the table. Sure you haven’t drank much yet, but that just gives you reason to drink more now. Once you get a hold of your drink, you begin to take multiple large gulps, shocking the girls around you.

“Damn girl, the drink isn’t going anywhere.” Lynn teases while the other girls laugh along.

Kristie just stares at you in bewilderment, not being used to this side of you. You blush under everyone’s gaze and look around the dance floor to try and remove the unwanted attention.

Within minutes, many of the girls are pulled onto the dance floor, leaving you with Kristie and Midge at the table.

“How about you? What was the last date you had?” Midge asks you since you’re the only one who hasn’t shared. You shift a little uncomfortably at the two girl’s stares, especially one being your best friend who you have grown attracted to within the past year.

“Umm, it was a blind date set up by my friend a few months ago. He was sweet and all, but I just didn’t see it going anywhere.” You shrug, taking another sip of your drink.

“What did he do? Profession wise.” Midge wonders, intrigued by your love life you barely share any detail about.

“A lawyer.”

“So let me get this straight. He was sweet, a lawyer, and a good friend of your friend. Was he ugly?”

“No, he wasn't ugly at all, it’s just, I don’t know honestly.” You exhale, rubbing your hands on the glass cup sitting on the table.

“There has so got to be more to that story, but I’ll let you off the hook. For now.” Midge teases with a daunting glare directed at you.

You didn’t even realize how silent the blonde next to you had become. You couldn’t say the real reason as to why the blind date didn’t become a second one when the reason is sitting next to you. Around the time of the date, you began to feel new feelings about your best friend, and you’re still trying to depict them.

“You never told me about that date.” Kristie states, finally speaking up.

“I didn’t think it was that important.” You say, tensing your shoulders up subconsciously at the scene. Kristie just hums, not believing you for a second but deciding to let it go.

Soon Kelley returns to the table, drunk and ditsy, claiming everyone is such party poopers. You all roll your eyes at the girl but chuckle, and soon the blonde next to you is dragged by Kelley to the dance floor.

Kristie looks at you with pleading eyes as her arm is getting tugged off, begging for you to get her out of it, but you just shrug with an entertained smile. You notice the midfielder lipping something at you with a glare, but you’re too tipsy to understand.

“So, about that lawyer.” You laugh at the younger girl’s persistence, shaking your head with a disbelief look.

“Midgey, like I told you-”

That’s when you hear it. That booming, raspy laugh just a few feet away from you. You thought you’d never have to hear that ugly sound ever again, but of course, you’re proven wrong.

You slowly turn around, and when you do, you catch eyes with someone you haven’t seen since Boston College. His sinister smirk stretches across his face as he takes a sip of his beer, eyeing you up while the fear in your eyes grows.

Pins and needles spread through your limbs, leaving you numb. The glass in your hand feels distant, as if it belongs to someone else. Your ears become muffled, blocking Midge’s worried calls out for you. And then your heartbeat. It starts to speed up five times its usual pace, causing your breathing to match its fast rate.

“Midge, what’s going on?” Ali asks, having come back to rest from all the dancing.

“I have no clue, one second we were talking and the next we weren’t.” Midge furrows her eyebrows with a worried expression, trying to figure out how to help.

“Here, help me take her outside.” Ali demands, continuing to try and grab your attention and ask if it’s okay if she touches you.

When you don’t answer, Ali softly touches your arm and when you don’t react, she wraps your arm around her shoulder to support your weight. Midge wraps her arms around your midsection once Ali stands you up, and you can’t even feel either touch.

The girls get you so close until you suddenly become deadweight in the corner of the bar, dragging the two girls down with you so you don’t get injured. Your knees curl up to your chin, and your arms wrap around your legs. Your whole body feels like TV static, numbing your mind along with it.

“What do we do? She’s clearly panicking!” Midge begins to freak out, becoming extremely worried at your state, watching tears run down your wide eyes.

“Go get Kristie.”

“What?”

“Go grab Kristie! Now, Midge!” Ali doesn’t mean to yell, but she’s not sure how long you’ll go without passing out. Midge nods her head determinedly and runs onto the dance floor through the sweaty bodies to find the midfielder.

You never thought you’d run into that pathetic excuse of a man again. The beginning of your relationship was great sophomore year, but then it began to grow more tense. Arguing about the future, miscommunications, and disagreements turned into pushes, then slaps, and finally full-on punches.

It took you getting a concussion to finally put an end to what was happening. Kristie was there from the beginning, constantly trying to get you to move in with her and leave him, but you just couldn’t. Despite the abuse, you felt as if he still loved you.

Then a few months after the breakup came the stalking and threatening. He would follow you to classes, work, and even practices just to scare you. Along with that, we would make burner accounts and threaten to lie to the dean to get you kicked from school, and show explicit photos to your friends and family.

It took Kristie speaking up for you to finally file a restraining order. Ever since then, you haven’t seen or heard a peep from the man.

“What’s going on!” Kristie’s voice cuts through the loud air, approaching your curled-up body.

“We don’t know.” Midge admits, biting her lip anxiously at the scene of Kristie trying everything to get your attention.

“Well, what the hell happened!” Kristie’s voice raises, absolutely terrified at the state you're in and wanting to do whatever she can to get you out of it.

“One second we were talking and then the next she looked around and went into this!”

“Looked around?”

The midfielder quickly glances around the room, attempting to follow in your footsteps, and that’s when she sees it. More like sees him. That same smug smirk she remembers seeing years ago.

“Kriegs, I need you to go grab security. Quickly.” Without any hesitation, Ali runs to look for bouncers while Kristie turns her glare from the man over to you with a softened look.

Your eyes are looking everywhere and nowhere all at once. They’re moving yet you can’t focus or see a thing, but when you hear that familiar soothing voice, your vision begins to unblur.

“There you are.” The blonde states, watching your gaze finally make contact with hers.

Within seconds, your breathing begins to slow, reverting back to its original pace as soon as it can, helping your body relax and unnumb. Just the sound of Kristie’s voice and the soft touch of her hand have helped tremendously, although you aren’t in the clear.

Your breaths have slowed down from before but it’s still rapid compared to the normal rate, and most of your body remains dizzy.

“What can I help you with, ma’am?” The bouncer asks, approaching you two with Ali right next to him.

“I need you to get that man out of here.” Kristie demands, pointing to the cause of all this chaos.

“We can’t kick him out without cause. We haven’t heard any complaints.” The man asserts with furrowed brows, but Kristie doesn’t seem to take it.

“Is a restraining order enough? Escort him out or I will, sir.”

Many of the girls who have now gathered around, not too close to overwhelm you, eyes widened with impressed looks and smiles as they watch the bouncer scram to escort him out.

“Wow. Don’t wanna mess with Kristie and her girl.” Nealy mumbles to a nodding Jenna.

Meanwhile, you’re finally making progress on being able to talk, hear, and breathe normally. A lot of your body remains tingly along with weakness, but the blonde girl alongside you helps you with everything.

“Here she is.” Kristie murmurs softly, her voice cutting through the haze in your mind like sunlight breaking through a curtained window. Her steady tone anchors you, and your frantic gaze finally meets hers.

“You’re okay, you’re safe. I’m right here.” She calmly says, her touch is gentle but firm, hands rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your arms.

Your chest heaves as you fight to regain control of your breathing, each inhale catching like a hiccup in your throat. But her words, her presence, they’re a lifeline. Slowly, the static buzzing in your body begins to fade, replaced by a dull ache and a tingling warmth where her hands rest on your arms.

“That’s it.” Kristie encourages, her eyes locked on yours. “Breathe with me, okay? In and out.”

You nod shakily, mimicking her deep breaths. Your lungs still feel tight, but the rhythm she sets calms the chaos in your chest. Gradually, the room sharpens around you; the distant thrum of music, the faint chatter of the girls nearby. It’s overwhelming, but Kristie keeps your focus tethered to her.

“There you go.” she says when your breathing finally steadies. “You’re doing so good, honey.”

Your heart stumbles at her words, warmth spreading through your chest despite the lingering fear. You manage a small nod, though the effort feels monumental.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, your voice hoarse and shaky. “I don’t know what happened. I saw him, and-”

“Stop, you don’t have to explain right now. It’s not your fault.” Kristie interrupts gently, shaking her head.

“She’s right, Y/n. None of this is your fault.” Midge steps closer, her face lined with concern.

You exhale shakily, the pressure in your chest lightening as you take in their words. Slowly, with Kristie’s help, you rise to your feet. Your legs wobble, lightheadedness threatening to pull you down again, but her arm is already around your waist, holding you steady.

“Easy, I’ve got you.” She says softly, her steady grip grounding you.

Her closeness, the protective strength in her touch, is almost too much to bear. Your cheeks flush a deep red, and you glance away, hiding the way her presence affects you. But Kristie notices, of course she does. Her hand lingers on your waist as her gaze searches yours.

“How about we head home, yeah?” The older girl suggests with a small smile.

“Yeah.”

—

When Kristie suggested going home, you both decided to just stay over at her apartment. It was close and for some reason comfier than yours in your opinion.

The midfielder was quick to offer you her clothes to sleep in which included a t-shirt and shorts. You were so relieved to take off the tight pants you had on along with your bra that felt like it was pushing your breasts all the way into your back.

You’re both cuddled together on the couch watching some sitcom on the TV. Cuddling isn’t new to you two, but ever since you realized your feelings for the older girl, your chest tightens and your cheeks flush whenever she gets this close.

Within minutes you’re asleep on the blonde’s chest, your cheek resting on her grey sweater and hair splattered across your face. Kristie is not too far behind, having soothed herself to sleep by threading her nails through the top of your head while the show in the background plays lightly.

The night passes in a peaceful blur, and when morning comes, sunlight streams through the window, warming your face. You squint against the brightness, groaning softly as you blink yourself awake. The warmth of Kristie’s arm draped over you lingers, grounding you in the moment, but you still try to sit up as well as you can without waking the girl.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Kristie rasps, her voice low and husky from sleep, with a sleepy grin spreading across her face as she stretches her arms over her head.

If you were half asleep before, you sure as hell aren’t now. The sound of her morning voice, paired with the pet name, sends a shiver down your spine. You’re not used to this side of her, so confident, so close. It makes your pulse race in ways you’re not sure you can control.

Kristie immediately notices the change in your posture despite only being up for a few minutes. She slowly sits up next to you, watching the side of your face and observing your reaction to her getting closer to you. When you turn, you slightly jump having not actually seen her move up close to you.

“Hi.” You manage a shaky smile, your heart still racing from the sudden closeness.

“Hi.” The girl’s lips curl into a soft grin, her blue eyes flickering between yours as if searching for something unspoken. The way she leans closer makes your breath hitch.

A new tension rises between you two as you both stare at one another with longing eyes, wanting so much more but not making a move. You don’t want to pull away. Maybe this is when something can happen between you two, but you’re too afraid to make the first move.

Suddenly, Kristie’s voice breaks the air with something unexpected.

“Please tell me to stop if I’m doing something you don’t want or like.”

Your breath catches in your throat as her words hang in the air. Kristie’s voice is quiet, almost hesitant, but there’s a certainty in her tone that makes your pulse quicken once again. Her gaze remains locked on yours, searching for any sign of hesitation.

You should say something. Anything. But all you can do is stare at her, your heart pounding in your chest like it’s trying to escape, too nervous to do something wrong.

“Kristie.” You finally whisper, unsure of where the courage to speak comes from.

Her name falls from your lips like a plea, and that’s all the confirmation she seems to need. Slowly, carefully, she closes the small space between you.

Her hand brushes against yours, the touch featherlight, as if she’s giving you the chance to pull away. You don’t. Instead, your fingers curl slightly, brushing hers in return.

“Is this okay?” She asks softly, voice trembling just enough to betray her own nerves.

“Yeah. It’s more than okay.” You nod, barely able to speak.

A small smile tugs at her lips before she leans in, her forehead resting lightly against yours. Her breath is warm against your skin, and you swear the world outside her apartment melts away. It’s just you and her now, caught in this fragile, perfect moment.

Her hand lifts to your cheek, her thumb tracing the crevices of your skin. The touch sends shivers down your spine, and for the first time, you realize just how much you’ve wanted this. Just how much you’ve been concealing these emotions.

And then, finally, she kisses you.

It’s gentle at first, her lips brushing against yours like a question, but when you don’t pull away, when you kiss back, it deepens. Your hands find their way to her shoulders repositioning and anchoring yourself to her as her fingers tangle in your hair.

Time slows. The sitcom that played throughout the night fades into white noise. All you can feel is her warmth, her touch, and the way she makes you feel like the center of the universe.

When she finally pulls back, her cheeks are flushed, and her grin is sheepish.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” She admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

You laugh softly, your own face warm.

“Me too.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, the tension between you two isn’t uncertainty. It’s the start of something new.

[synvil]

light as a feather // bf! rafe cameron

synopsis : you hesitant to ask your boyfriend to try a trend your friends show you, afraid of being too heavy, but he proves you wrong. mentions of insecurity.

“have you seen this trend around, [name]?”

tilting her phone towards you so you can view the screen better, a tiktok compilation began to play.

it’s a compilation of various couples with pretty much the same thing, all the boyfriends lifting their partners onto their shoulders, while an audio edit of rihanna’s breakin’ dishes plays in the background.

“uh, i think I’ve seen one or two of it. why?” you ask, pulling your cup to your lips and taking a sip through the straw. “have you considered asking rafe to try it with you?” kie asks and you furrow your brows. “why would i do that?”

“because it’s fun! you can see if rafe is strong.” kie laughs as sarah pulls out her own phone and the two girls scroll through their device. “we did it too!”

in sync, the two turn their phones your way and the audio plays, with john b lifting sarah while she crosses her leg and flashes a confident smile, while jj does the same for kie, with the two grinning proudly and laughing in the video.

the sight makes you smile as you chuckle and pull away. “how cute.”

“c’mon, you should try it with rafe! make a video and send it to us and we can post it on our socials~!” sarah beams and you sigh, swirling your beverage. “i don’t know, rafe isn’t really into the stuff.. and besides i might be too heavy for him.”

“don’t be silly, rafe is probably stronger than both john b and jj, honestly.” kie grunts out, not particularly thrilled about her compliment to rafe but you laugh at that.

“maybe, but still.. we’ll see.”

“hey, rafe?”

“yeah, baby?” glancing up from his phone, his eyes travel to you standing from the doorway of the living room entrance and you smile faintly, taking a stride towards your boyfriend seated on the couch.

instinctively, he opens his arms and you climb into his lap and pull out your phone. “have you seen this?” you show him the same compilation video from earlier.

rafe watches it and scrunches his nose briefly before returning to his normal neutral expression. “yeah, what about it? topper told me about it. he struggled lifting ruthie a bit.” he scoffs.

“can we try it?..” the hesitance in your voice makes him confused. “why are you being so shy about it, baby?”

your lips unconsciously curl into a small frown as you rest on his chest. “I don’t know.. I might be too heavy for you.. but kie and sarah want me to do this tiktok thing and-“

rafe suddenly brings his hands to your hips, firmly gripping the flesh before standing up and lifting you with ease into the air, high up making you squeal and clutch onto him. “rafe!”

your boyfriend grins at your reaction as he carefully places you onto his shoulder, hand resting atop of your thighs while the other holds yours to steady you.

“don’t underestimate me again, sweetheart. you’re light as a feather.”

bonus : you managed to convince rafe to do it for a tiktok video, even though he wasn’t particularly excited about recording himself doing it, he did it anyways to make you happy.

as the audio plays, rafe tosses you up and lands you in his shoulder without so much of a flinch, and he’s smirking while you hide your flushed face in embarrassment.

sending the video to kie and sarah, the three of you posted your individual videos to your socials and garnered quite the view count.

rafe who saw, hums curiously. “i suppose doing more to expand your followers couldn’t hurt.”

a/n : hope you enjoy! i’m tryna think of tiktok trends lol these short things w rafe seem so cute :)) let me know your thoughts! <3

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Thinking this morning about how Ed handles breakups.

I still hear a lot of talk about how Stede and Izzy bear equal responsibility for Ed's Kraken spiral, and I just don't think that's a fair take. Bearing in mind that we know both that Stede is the first man Ed's ever been in love with and Stede left him with no warning or explanation immediately after their first kiss and deciding to run away together, and it would be understandable if Ed was especially torn up about it considering those factors, Ed handles the breakup by:

making a blanket fort

wearing his ex's clothes

indulging in sweet treats he likes

writing lyrics as a creative emotional outlet

seeking support from those around him (you could argue that he's potentially self-isolating, but given how we're shown Izzy acting like his heartbreak is shameful and obviously trying to keep people away even when they ask for him, I don't think it's a fair assumption)

being vulnerable and sharing his art, seeking out support and validation

trying to engage in community

he allows his space to become messy, which is uncharacteristic behavior from him, and happily cleans up as soon as he feels up to the task. his personal hygiene remains perfectly fine, however, and his hair looks just as perfect as ever

Like, genuinely, he's doing good. I have personally handled better breakups way worse than this. Ed is not only visibly feeling better throughout the episode, he's also refused to allow Stede leaving to take away the desire he's starting to feel to get to act more like himself. He's still determined and hopeful to get to be himself.

It's only after we see Izzy threaten him and make him feel that he is not allowed to have that hope that Ed's behavior becomes truly unhealthy. This is the only point we see him drinking and doing drugs to excess, to the point where other characters comment on it and he's visibly wobbly on his feet.

I don't think it's fair to look at Ed's post-breakup behavior and argue that he's bad at breakups or that the whole Kraken thing can just be reduced down to a "bad breakup." He was doing damn good, and honestly considering the circumstances, I think how well he handled it is further proof that Ed is really quite emotionally stable and difficult to drive to extremes.

[radioactiverats]

thoughts on seekers locking landing gears and spiraling in the sky as a gesture of trust, similar to how eagles do that courtship spiral :3c or even just twirling in the air together a little too close. yes its probably really dangerous, but nothing beats being in total sync in the air

OH >:3c Absolutely in love with this. THE RITUALS ARE INTRICATE. I'm gnawing on this from various angles. Firstly thinking about this being a seeker-specific aspect of Conjunx Ritus (mutual Act of Devotion??) and it would honestly be so beautiful :,)

My mind jumped to this,, (angst warn)

---

In early stages of the war, when the exhilaration of following Megatron had worn off and bots were starting to realise their sparks weren't worth his doomed-to-fail commands (not enough experience yet..). When he was mostly relying on fear to keep his troops in order before he'd gained their full loyalty, there had been an Incident. You remember it like it was yesterday, because Starscream had looked ashen when he came back that night, and you'd never, ever seen that expression on his faceplate before.

You sit up, shuffling over to make room on the berth as Starscream plunks himself heavily down. After a few cycles of increasingly uneasy silence, he finally manages to speak.

"Two seekers have offlined."

His iron grip on the edge of the berth tell you the circumstances of their deaths were not straightforward.

"What do you know of Conjunx Ritus?"

You actually take a nanoklik to think about it, which Starscream appreciates given the solemnity of the situation.

"I know there's four acts?" You finally say, suddenly embarrassed about your naivety. To be fair, you'd never really had a chance to consider the possibility. Thankfully, Starscream just nods briefly.

"Correct. The fourth and final stage is called an Act of Devotion. Back on Vos, we seekers had a different way of performing it."

Starscream takes a klik to collect himself. You can't help but wonder if he has a Conjunx. If he does, he's certainly never talked about them.

"It's called a Death Spiral," Starscream finally says, voice horse. "Two seekers soar to the very fringes of the atmosphere and there, before the eyes of the universe itself, lock their servos and their landing gears before free falling back to planetside."

Beside him, you're enthralled to learn about this aspect of your own culture that you'd never had a chance to become familiar with. At the same time, you're picking up on a strange emotion that clogs his vocaliser and the faraway look in his optics, so you remain quiet as he resets his vocaliser.

"At the very last second," Starscream continues softly, "the two seekers pull up immediately before making contact with the ground."

It sounds incredibly dangerous, but you're enraptured by the idea. You know this because Starscream has made you practice something similar in the past, and there were a few times you genuinely thought you wouldn't make it through training in one piece even with landing gears. It undoubtedly took a lot of skill to harness the winds without the aid of thrusters, and even more courage and trust. You supposed that was where the love came in.

"It's... exquisite." Starscream offlines his optics, shakes his helm before turning to look at you, a ragged sort of pain spiking jaggedly through his EM field.

"I can imagine," You murmur quietly. It sounded like he was telling a story, back then. One from experience.

"Earlier today, two seekers engaged in a Death Spiral. But they didn't pull up." Starscream ex-vents raggedly, tilting his helm up to stare at the ceiling. "It was a pact."

For a klik you just sit there, frozen in silent horror. When he speaks again, it's through gritted denta. "Megatron has now enforced a ban against Conjunx Ritus between seekers."

You had a few guesses as to why. Seekers' valuable frame types to the Decepticon cause meant that Megatron couldn't afford to lose them. However, as increasing numbers of troops grew discontent with his leadership, Megatron as usual had decided to silence them through cruelty. It seemed that today's incident had been the last straw.

---

Outside the context of courtship rituals though, I see twirling together as a show of trust that anyone can do, from sires/carriers/sparklings to amica endura, cos flying and the skies are so deeply entwined with the seeker identity. Imagine just flying with your bro and the exhilaration of doing a complicated spin together, so close you can feel the heat of each other's engines on your plates before zooming apart again, the sound of your laughter carried on the winds. Must be so good to be in sync like that fr.

That being said, I think Starscream's determined to make sure cadet never feels alone in the skies, which is meant to be your home. Maybe in better times, I can see him joining cadet for training - the moves are a breeze for him, but it warms his spark to see you so happy while in the air. Not sure they get the luxury of the Autobots' "wanna go for a drive?", especially since his interactions with you must be under the guise of training - so Megatron won't see you as a target. Still, one must imagine Starscream happy.

Thank you for the lovely ask!!!!!!! Another yap... but in the process I have learned so much about eagles... I will put some sofas in my inbox so asks are received comfortably

[otherkin-confessional]

Pagan angelkin here, responding somewhat to the confession by the Christian angelkin, but also more general thoughts. I understand anon was trying to sort out feelings and genuinely trying to understand, but it really rubbed me the wrong way as a wingless, non-Christian angel.

Honestly, speaking as a former Christian, this is kind of why the community is averse to Christianity. A lot of Christian people, while claiming to support others, also have the underlying holier-than-thou attitude or belief that the people acting or believing non-Christian are "disrespectful" even though they themselves don't actually have as much knowledge about their own religion to make that claim.

Now, speaking as someone who has studied Christian theology and angelology from a historical and cultural anthropological lens, technically you can also say the winged humanoids of modern Christianity "aren't angels". Why? Because angels in the Bible actually don't have wings.

They had no described appearance prior to the creation of humanity, and afterwards, are described to look no different from humans. The portrayal of winged angels came much later in Christianity's history, after adopting Greek motifs such as the wings of the gods Nike or Hermes. "Angel" as a word even came from this, from the Greek "angelos" meaning "messenger".

In line with this, the nine choirs of angels don't have full basis in the Bible; Christian theologians to this day actually still argue whether the wheels from the book of Ezekiel are even considered angels.

My point isn't that certain beings aren't angels of course. It's that even Christians have an ever-changing view towards angels. What is a "real angel" to you isn't a "real angel" to another culture or even to another denomination of Christianity. "Angel" etymologically just means a messenger or servant spirit of a god.

Winged angels, wingless angels, animalistic angels, non-humanoid angels, non-Christian hierarchy angels? All valid.

Because throughout human history, nobody truly knows what angels are. And that's how it's meant to be, that we are incomprehensible and never fully grasped by human minds.

🌌

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Contains Spoilers: Toxic Husbands Trying Their Best (Poorly), Pregnancy cravings but make it a battle, Unhinged Humor & Serious Angst, Discussions of past trauma (non-explicit but emotional), Over-the-top jealousy, Dumbass husbands being dumbass husbands, Swearing & chaotic humour, Emotional whiplash, Heavy Angst Sprinkled with Crack Humor, Poly Relationship Drama with Terrorist Husbands, Unreliable Narrators and Moral Grey Zones.

A/N: To, Farhan, My IRL Haibara, who lived life to the fullest although chaotically, and I hope this chapter brings at least a little bit of that energy to you. Welcome to another chapter of pure chaos! Don’t forget to hydrate while reading about everyone’s emotional dehydration. Also, snacks are important. That’s all I’ll say for now—enjoy the mess, and don’t forget to drop a comment if this makes you want to lasso someone IRL.

Chapter 11 (alt ending 2.2) - Snakes & Mirrors (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 12 (alt ending 2.3) - Not Heroes

Haibara turned, throwing an arm over Megumi’s shoulder like they were at a frat party instead of a standoff. “Look, man. The only person I ever knew from your Jujutsu world was his mom. Whatever happened before? Don’t remember, don’t care. I’m good where I am. I was fucking MI6, bro. Do you know how cool that is? And now I’m semi-retired and work with my ‘only’ best friends. Life couldn’t be better. So maybe stop barking up the wrong tree and go, I don’t know, ‘synergize deliverables’ or whatever it is you corporate sellouts do.”

Megumi smirked at the men.

The courtyard, still buzzing with curious employees pretending not to eavesdrop, was momentarily stunned into pin-drop silence.

Nanami’s face fell.

Gojo, sensing Nanami’s sinking, saw red and stepped in. “How can you say that? Do you even know what happened after we thought you died?”

His voice lowered just enough for the men to hear. “After your death, my best friend—the guy you looked up to—sank deeper into his depression. And turned into a mass murderer, even removing his own parents. Nanami lost all hope after you because you were the only one of us he had actively considered his best friend at the time. He disappeared for years to work a mundane corporate job. None of us were ever the same. Not me. Not Shoko. No one. Then my best friend decided that genocide was his life's ambition. I had to stop him six months ago; put an end to it!” His voice cracked at the edges, exposing the weight he carried while carefully avoiding articulating ‘killed’ aloud. “That led us here where I have to go through you two—who, by the way, I have never seen be active in her life.”

Megumi’s teeth clenched audibly. “How is any of that his fault when he doesn’t even remember?”

“Yeah, what he said,” Haibara quipped, completely unbothered, like they were debating sports scores instead of a massacre.

Gojo’s hand twitched, but Nanami placed a steady grip on his shoulder. “Satoru, stop,” he said, his voice firm. “It’s not his fault.”

Haibara sighed like this was a lecture he’d heard one too many times. “Look, from what his mom—Toji’s wife, whom you deleted, by the way—told me, sorcerers die thankless deaths. The Jujutsu society? Already broken. What happened would’ve happened whether I was there or not. And honestly? I wasn’t exactly eager to die with my—back then, weak-ass—technique at sixteen.”

The crowd of employees, still loitering and pretending to check their phones, exchanged wide-eyed glances. The whispered commentary started.

“Wait, sorcerers? Is this, like, a D&D thing?”

“More like an anime plotline written on acid.”

“Also, Toji? Wasn’t he the dude from that Netflix documentary about buff street food chefs?”

“What does he mean by deleted?”

Before Gojo could retort, the conference room door swung open.

“Hai!” your voice rang out, snapping heads to you. “What’s taking so long? I’m hungry! If you don’t bring the food right now, I’ll eat you! And everyone else, please take your breaks in the cafeteria!”

All your employees scrambled away like they were in a fire drill. One brave soul muttered, “Damn! Mom’s big mad!” as he passed by Gojo, who shot him a glare that could freeze lava. The guy quickly backtracked, stammering, “We only call her ‘Mom’ behind her back because, you know, ‘she protek and attck’ not because of the pregnancy or to make fun of her!” Even made a poor attempt at a joke. “We didn’t even know she was pregananant before today.”

But it was too late; he bolted when Nanami joined in on the glaring, and the two of them looked like they were ready to form a task force against insubordination.

Haibara’s grin turned smug as he turned away from the men. “Sorry, boys. We’ll debate this another day. By ‘another day,’ I mean never—because I don’t care. Your girl’s calling me.” He winked, specifically at Nanami, like he had a personal vendetta. But it was just that, his eyes genuinely reflected, that he didn’t remember or cared to know anything.

“Don’t,” Gojo stopped Nanami before he could lunge at Haibara and get them arrested again; you’d be pissed.

Haibara whistled heartily as he walked away, posture oozing mockery.

Megumi stayed behind, his glare boring into the two men.

Nanami sighed, reaching into his pocket. “We’ll leave. But you need to see this.”

He showed Megumi your latest medical report on his phone—undernutrition flagged in bold red.

Megumi’s frown deepened as he read it without taking his hands out of his pocket.

“She needs to eat homemade food,” Nanami pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Her pregnancy isn’t uncomplicated. If she doesn’t start taking care of herself—if we don’t—she could die with them.”

The words landed like a bomb.

Megumi’s jaw was tight, his shoulders tense. “Go.”

//

Haibara returned to your office with an extra bag of food, setting it down on your desk. “Healthy and edible. Barely.”

Megumi followed shortly after, ensuring the men were escorted off the premises.

You reached for the bag, but Megumi snatched it away, replacing it with the one Nanami had brought, without telling you where it came from.

You blinked at him, confused. “What are you—”

“Eat,” he said simply, taking a deliberate bite of Nanami’s food before handing it back to you.

Your confusion deepened, but you didn’t press further. Instead, you began eating, your focus shifting back to the reports on your screen.

Haibara raised an eyebrow at Megumi, who responded with a slight nod. A silent agreement passed between them: We’ll talk later.

As you worked, your CHRO and CFO glanced up from their own meals.

“What happened out there?” Your CHRO asked, her curiosity barely concealed.

“Nothing worth remembering,” Haibara replied with a grin, leaning back in his chair as if he hadn’t just navigated a minefield.

The three of you ate in companionable silence, the hum of the office returning to its standard rhythm. Yet the tension in the air lingered like a quiet storm waiting to break.

---

Sometime later, Megumi walked to the break room under the pretence of “taking a work conference.” He sat down at the corner table, resting his elbows on the surface. The bold red text on the report Nanami had shown him burned into his memory: "Undernutrition: High-Risk Pregnancy."

Haibara was already leaning against the counter, his typical flippant demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness. His arms were crossed, and his brows were knitted tightly together as he listened to Megumi.

“This is bad,” Megumi muttered after relaying the information. His fingers tapped the edge of the table rhythmically, a rare sign of his frustration. “She’s barely eating. She takes four bites and then gets distracted by work again. Why didn’t anyone notice this sooner?”

Haibara snorted softly, though there was no humour in it. “She’s good at hiding things. Always has been.”

Megumi’s glare flicked up to meet Haibara’s gaze. “Hiding it doesn’t mean it’s okay. You didn’t see the report. If she keeps this up…”

“I understand,” Haibara cut in, his tone sharper than normal. “You think I don’t know? I’ve been trying to get her to slow down and take care of herself, but you know how she is.”

Megumi’s jaw tightened. “Stubborn.”

“Relentless,” Haibara corrected. “It’s like she thinks if she stops moving, everything will fall apart.”

“It will,” Megumi shot back. “If she doesn’t start taking care of herself, she’s going to fall apart. And then what? What will we do? What will I tell Mom?”

Haibara sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, we’re on the same side here. I’ve been keeping an eye on her, trying to make sure she’s eating something—anything. But she’s slippery. You’ve seen her dodge Gojo and Nanami’s overbearing crap like it’s a sport.”

Megumi’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s not enough.”

Haibara tilted his head, studying Megumi. “So what do you want to do about it? Force-feed her? Chain her to a chair in the cafeteria?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Megumi said coldly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Haibara’s eyebrows furrowed. “Okay, easy there, villain arc. We’re trying to help her, not make her hate us. You’re already on thin ice with all the crap you said to her at the airport. I swear, if I had been there, I would have beaten the crap out of you right then and there.”

Megumi’s expression didn’t soften. “I know it was pathetic of me, but if she knew what’s in this report, she’d hate us for keeping it from her.”

Haibara straightened, his posture tense. “You think she doesn’t know? She’s not stupid, Megumi. She knows something’s wrong. She just... doesn’t want to deal with it.”

Megumi’s fists clenched on the table. “That’s not good enough. She’s carrying twins, Haibara. Not just any twins—Special Grade Sorcerer twins. Her stomach glows like a fucking lighthouse for anyone who can sense cursed energy. I really don’t understand how those losers didn’t see it. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is for someone in her condition?”

Haibara’s gaze dropped, and for a moment, he looked almost defeated. “I see it. Believe me, I want to strangle them just as much as you do.”

The silence that followed was heavy, punctuated only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Finally, Haibara spoke, his voice quieter. “So, what’s the plan, genius? You want to tell her? Confront her with the report and hope she doesn’t blow up?”

Megumi’s eyes narrowed. “No. Not yet. She’s under enough stress already.”

“Then what?” Haibara pressed.

Megumi leaned back, his gaze distant but calculating. “We work around her. We make sure she eats without making it obvious. We take shifts if we have to.”

Haibara’s lips quirked into a faint, bitter smile. “So we’re babysitting her now?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Megumi said again, his voice resolute.

Haibara pushed off the counter, his customary swagger creeping back into his step. “Alright, boss. Let’s see if your plan works. But if she catches on and decides to kill us, I’m blaming you.”

Megumi sighed. “I’ll take the blame.”

---

On the other side of HQ, your employees were scattered—some perched on tables, others standing, dramatically reenacting what seemed to be the courtyard scene of an unwritten soap opera. The walls were plastered with hastily scribbled whiteboard notes, arrows connecting phrases like ‘pregnancy bombshell,’ ‘Nanami: protective husband arc,’ and ‘Haibara supremacy confirmed.’ Someone had added ‘K-drama-level tension’ in glittery pink marker.

“‘You’re trespassing.’ Like, bro, chill. They brought soup, not nukes.”

“But nooo, gotta keep the ‘I’m colder than a polar bear’s ass’ persona alive.”

“‘For our fucking wife,’ he says. Man’s out here declaring ownership like it’s the 1800s. Meanwhile, Megumi’s over here like, ‘Perish.’ This is a Shakespearean tragedy-level mess.”

“‘Our wife,’ but she’s out there about to eat Haibara like a feral cat. Priorities, Gojo!”

“But can we talk about how Gojo’s forehead got incinerated in real-time? Man didn’t deserve that, but also... he kinda did.”

“Gojo really thought he could charm his way through that? Bro, you’re not the main character here. Megumi said, ‘CEO of Don’t Try Me Solutions,’ and Haibara hit Nanami with, ‘MI6, bitch.’”

“‘She could die,’ I felt that in my soul. Like, are we not just employees anymore? Are we side characters in a live-action K-drama?”

“Guys, guys. The real question is: why are y’all simping for the most emotionally unavailable men in the building? Like, Gojo? Trauma core. Haibara? Certified menace. Nanami? Daddy issues on legs.”

“But why did she threaten to eat Haibara? Like, girl, we get it. You’re feral, but maybe chill?”

“And then Haibara was like, ‘Your girl’s calling me,’ and walked off like he didn’t just commit emotional manslaughter. Low-key? King behaviour.”

“Bro, Gojo’s whole soul left his body. He was standing there like a kicked puppy, holding soup like it was an olive branch in the Hunger Games.”

Someone playing Nanami, on his knees, clutched his chest like he was in a Bollywood tragedy. “‘She could die.’” He fake-sobbed, looking up at the stand-in for Megumi.

“Did Nanami really say, ‘die with them’? Like, bro, that’s not just a red flag—that’s the entire communist manifesto of toxic relationships.”

“Okay, but can we appreciate Megumi’s vibes? The smirk, the glare, the whole ‘don’t breathe in my direction’ energy? Sir, I’d like to subscribe to your newsletter.”

“Okay, but Haibara! Man walked in like he was carrying state secrets and left with a biryani bag. How does he do that? He’s not even trying, and he’s the main character.”

“That wink at Nanami? I felt that in my ovaries. And I don’t even like men.”

“If Haibara needs someone to help carry his biryani, I’m free.”

“You’d carry his biryani straight to HR, wouldn’t you?”

“And Megumi’s smirk? Man could power a nuclear reactor with that. Gojo’s charm didn’t stand a chance.”

“Bro, Gojo’s banned from everything. I heard he tried to bribe the janitor for Megumi’s lunch schedule.”

“Let’s not pretend we’re any better. Half of you would keel over if Gojo so much as breathed in your direction.” She shot a pointed look at one woman, who flipped her off.

“Let’s circle back to Megumi. That glare? Sir, therapy is three doors down.”

“Am I the only one worried about the undernutrition part? Like, yes, drama is fun, but maybe we should call a doctor? No? Cool, just me then.”

The employees all froze when the door creaked open.

It was Megumi, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. “Don’t you all have jobs?”

“We are working on the ‘villain energy game.’”

Megumi sighed, closed the door, and walked back to your office.

---

The day was running smoothly—or as smoothly as it ever could—until Sam burst into your office, clutching his tablet as if it might explode. His face was pale, his expected unhinged confidence replaced by something unsettling: genuine concern.

“You need to see this,” he said, his voice subdued.

You took the tablet, your eyes scanning the screen.

#TwoHolesForAReason was back with a vengeance, accompanied by a fresh wave of vile doctored images. One particularly egregious post showed a manipulated photo of you, dishevelled and exhausted, with the caption:

"When being married to two terrorists ruins your beauty and career, but at least you're stuffed full of dicks."

You gritted your teeth as you scrolled through hundreds—no, thousands—of similar posts. Some were disgustingly graphic, while others hid their malice behind mock sympathy. All aimed to tear you down.

Sam hovered nervously. “It’s... everywhere. Even the investors are panicking.”

You stared at the screen for a long moment, fury building under your skin. Then a humourless laugh escaped your lips, so cold it made Sam flinch.

“Idiots,” you muttered, tossing the tablet onto your desk as if it had personally offended you.

Haibara walked in, unbothered. “What’s the hubbub?”

Sam pointed to the tablet. Haibara took one look and grunted. “Wow. Creative. Didn’t know middle schoolers were running smear campaigns these days.”

Megumi leaned against your desk, his expression darkening as he read over Sam’s shoulder. “I’ll find out who’s behind it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, rising to your feet. “We’re shutting it down.”

---

It didn’t take long for the vultures to circle.

The boardroom buzzed with tension as the executives filed in, their smugness as palpable as the overpriced cologne clinging to the air. Papers shuffled, pens clicked, and glances exchanged like unspoken conspiracies.

One of them, an older man with a shiny bald head that reflected the fluorescent lights like a spotlight, leaned forward with the faux gravity of someone who thought himself important. “Mrs.—”

“Allow me to clarify,” you interrupted smoothly, not bothering to mask your irritation. “I am nobody’s wife in this room. Here, I am your Founder and CEO. Let’s stick to relevant titles.”

His face reddened, but he cleared his throat and tried again. “Of course, my apologies. We’ve called this emergency meeting to discuss the company’s image under your leadership.”

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your belly in a deliberate show of calm control. “My leadership built this company. What’s the issue?”

A younger man chimed in, his tone overly conciliatory. “The issue is the... unfavourable attention your personal life has drawn recently. Investors are concerned about the long-term impact on the company’s reputation.”

Your eyebrow arched. “Unfavorable attention? You’re referring to the slander and misinformation I am currently addressing while you waste my time with redundant meetings?”

The younger man faltered, but a woman at the far end of the table, her poorly woven hair perched precariously on her head, jumped in. “With all due respect, this goes beyond a few rumours. Your personal matters have bled into the company’s operations. Your... husbands storming this very building caused injuries and property damage. The media frenzy hasn’t stopped since. And now, you’ve returned suddenly, pregnant and still tied to a highly publicized poly marriage.”

Her words hung in the air, each one a carefully aimed barb.

“Me being pregnant is an issue; why?” you asked, icy.

“We’re simply suggesting,” the bald man interjected, “that for the good of the company, you consider stepping down—temporarily, of course—until this all blows over.”

The room fell silent.

You tilted your head slightly and smiled predatorily—the kind that made grown men sweat. “Step down? Because of a trending hashtag?”

“It’s not just the hashtag,” another board member piped up, emboldened by the tension. “There’s the matter of your husbands’ actions, the disruption to our HQ, and the risk of further incidents. The optics alone—”

You silenced him, your voice low and measured. “The optics? Let me be clear: I built this company. Every game, every cross-platform integration, and every dollar in your quarterly bonuses exists because of me. I negotiated every deal, spearheaded every innovation, and solved every crisis. I even paid for the damages out of my own pocket. And now, because of a handful of manipulated images and an incident I had no part in—except actively fighting them off—you think you can compel me to step down?”

You limited your words to corporate lingo; otherwise, you’d outright sound like Toji.

The bald man tried to speak, but you held up a hand.

“Where were you when the building was being terrorized? Where were all of you? Because I did not receive a single call, nor did my teams. Neither did the injured.”

The room was frozen.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” you said, your tone steely. “You’re going to sit down, shut up, and let me clean up this mess. If anyone in this room so much as whispers the words ‘step down’ again, I will personally ensure they never work in any tech or gaming company on the planet. I still hold the majority of shares, which means I hold all the cards. Do not test me.”

“Understood?”

They nodded reluctantly, the smugness drained from their faces.

“Good.” Gripping the table, you stood, smoothing your coat and fixing them with a final, icy stare. “Meeting adjourned.”

As the boardroom emptied, whispers erupted among your employees, many of whom had been hovering nearby.

“She just ended their entire careers in one sentence.”

“Did you see the bald guy’s face? He looked like he was about to cry.”

One bolder employee muttered, “And they think she’s the problem? Meanwhile, her husbands are walking red flags with a combined body count.”

Another chimed in, “Yeah, but they’re hot red flags. That’s the worst kind.”

“Greg, please stop simping for terrorists!”

As you strode back to your office, your vision blurred. The edges of the hallway swam, and the coppery taste of blood filled your mouth. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay upright.

Inside your office, your employees were gathered, their faces filled with worry.

“Crisis averted,” you said. “Everyone, get back to work, please.”

They hesitated but scattered, murmuring among themselves.

Dove lingered, her expression uncertain. “Boss, maybe you should rest—”

“Dove,” you said, shooing her off. “Go.”

Once everyone left, Megumi was already opening an electrolyte drink and handing it to you, leaning casually against your desk.

“So... who’s first on the hit list? Baldy with the overcompensating cologne or Wigged Sharon?” Haibara inquired.

You smirked, taking a sip. “All of them.”

Megumi held up a tablet. “I pulled the IP addresses of the accounts spreading the worst posts. They’re mostly bot farms, but a few are traceable. Some even belong to your investors.”

“Perfect.” You set the glass down. “Dismantle them. Quietly.”

Megumi was already calling someone.

Haibara grinned, shaking his head. “You’re like Maggie, but without the illegal underground moonshine ring.”

“Keep flattering me,” you said dryly, “and I might even promote you to court jester.”

Haibara laughed. “Haven’t played it in years; wanna play sometime?”

“Me neither, so definitely.” You agreed easily.

Megumi hummed in agreement as well before you both had to ask.

“So, what’s the plan? Burn their careers to the ground, or are you playing the long game?” Haibara smirked.

“Both,” you replied, chugging the energy drink. “First, we stabilize the optics. Then we eliminate the dead weight.”

Megumi glanced up from his laptop. “I can draft the shareholder communication.”

"Yes, thank you, Megs,” you said. “Please make it clear that I’m still in control. Frame the board’s behaviour as a distraction from the company’s goals. If they want to play games, we’ll show them how it’s done.”

Haibara chuckled. “Terrifying.”

“One does not survive corporate life without eliciting fear. Which is what Ken should have...”

You grimaced and cut yourself off, feeling a wave of nausea wash over you. The sensation was becoming all too familiar, a reminder of the body horror that accompanied your pregnancy. You could almost feel the weight of it—the way it twisted and turned inside you—a constant reminder of their fathers.

Your friends changed the topic, sensing your discomfort, but the unease lingered in the back of your mind.

---

A few blocks down in a rooftop restaurant, Nanami and Gojo stood, watching your building. Gojo’s six eyes scanned the floors, his hands fidgeting as he tracked your movements.

“She’s not okay,” Gojo muttered, his voice tight.

Nanami’s jaw gritted.

“She’s going to collapse if she keeps this up,” Gojo continued.

“Have patience,” Nanami said calmly.

Gojo’s frustration bubbled over. “How can you just do nothing?”

Nanami folded his arm. “Leave it to Megumi. Haibara might not remember me, but I still know how to get him riled up to work in our favour. He was never a strategist.”

Gojo’s shoulders slumped, expectant. “You ready to betray him?”

“He doesn’t know us anymore; he said so himself.”

---

The glow of Megumi’s laptop screen painted faint, shifting shadows across the room. He sat on the couch, legs crossed, his posture tense despite the rhythmic click of his fingers against the keys. His focus, at least outwardly, was on your grand plan—the one he’d quietly poured himself into without needing to ask or complain.

You were on the adjacent couch, your gaming laptop’s vivid hues casting a surreal glow over your features. Your attention was divided, bouncing between emails, analytics, and some half-finished documents. But your fingers had slowed. Megumi glanced up just as your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut.

In minutes, you were out.

He returned to his work—or tried to—until something moved beneath your shirt.

Megumi froze, his stomach twisting in an unfamiliar way. A tiny hand pressed against the fabric, followed by a foot, then the vague outline of a face. His chest tightened.

“What the…” The words barely escaped his lips.

The twins shifted again, their tiny movements both mesmerising and unsettling. He flinched when the door creaked open. Haibara strolled in, his smirk in place, a bag of snacks dangling from one hand.

Megumi raised a finger to his lips, shushing him sharply.

Haibara stopped mid-step, his brows knitting together as he followed Megumi’s gaze to you, sprawled out and oblivious, one hand draped protectively over your belly. His smirk faltered.

“What’s happening?” Haibara whispered, crouching beside Megumi.

“Look,” Megumi muttered, gesturing toward your midsection.

Haibara leaned in, his expression shifting from curiosity to outright disbelief as the twins moved again. “What the hell are they doing? Trying to dig their way out?”

Megumi’s glare was immediate. “Don’t touch her.”

“Relax.” Haibara held his hands up defensively, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise. “You’re acting like they’re going to burst out and take over your business. Just let me see... what it feels like?”

“It feels like you should leave it alone.”

Ignoring the warning, Haibara reached out, only to jerk back when the twins kicked again. “Nope. Nope. I’m good.” He pointed accusingly at your stomach, his characteristic bravado cracking. “That’s not normal.”

“You think hexes are normal?” Megumi shot back, though his tone lacked its regular edge. His attention drifted back to you, his gaze softening despite himself. “Although she’s not scared.”

Haibara let out a dry laugh, leaning against the armrest. “Because she’s her. Chaos incarnate. She’d stare down a volcano and bet it wouldn’t erupt just to prove a point.”

Megumi’s lips twitched, but he said nothing.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the faint hum of the heater and your steady breathing. Haibara shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between you and Megumi.

“Think they’ll inherit her attitude?” He asked finally, his voice lighter than his expression.

Megumi didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was quieter. “Probably. Not a bad thing.”

Haibara’s gaze lingered on you, a shadow of something unreadable crossing his face. “Not bad, huh?” His words were light, but his tone carried a weight that Megumi didn’t address.

Before the silence could stretch, you stirred, a soft groan slipping past your lips. Both men froze.

Your eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep. “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing,” they said in unison, too quickly, too high-pitched.

You frowned but were too tired to argue. With a small yawn, you shifted, your hand resting over your belly again. “Weirdos,” you muttered before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Haibara let out a quiet breath, his shoulders relaxing. He glanced at Megumi, who was staring at you with an expression he quickly masked.

“She called you a weirdo,” Haibara teased, his grin returning.

“She called us weirdos,” Megumi corrected, his tone clipped.

“Yeah, but she meant you more.” Haibara leaned back, smug.

Megumi ignored him, his attention returning to your belly. The twins moved again, and despite everything—despite the chaos you brought, the complications you were, and the way you never saw him the way he sometimes wished you would—he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Haibara leaned in slightly, his voice lower now. “You think she knows how lucky they are? How lucky we are?”

Megumi’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. Haibara didn’t press; his eyes stayed on you, his smirk replaced by something thoughtful.

“You ever think about how she does it?” he asked, his voice unusually quiet.

Megumi’s brow furrowed. “Does what?”

“Handles all this.” Haibara gestured vaguely toward your sleeping form. “The mess. The plans. The… future.” He hesitated before adding, “Them.”

“She doesn’t think about it like that,” Megumi replied, his tone clipped. “She just... does it.”

Haibara huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. That’s her, alright. Always diving in headfirst.”

Megumi didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on your hand resting over your belly, the way your fingers twitched slightly in your sleep, as if even in unconsciousness, you were protecting them.

Haibara tilted his head, studying Megumi. “You ever wonder if she regrets it?”

Megumi’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “Why would she?”

Haibara shrugged, though his expression betrayed the casual gesture. “I don’t know. She’s got this whole... empire thing going on. Then there are the twins.” He nodded toward your belly.

Megumi’s jaw tightened. “She regrets the people but not the twins.”

“You sound sure,” Haibara said, leaning back. “But maybe you’re just saying that because you want to believe it.”

“Drop it,” Megumi muttered, his tone sharper than he intended.

Haibara raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just making conversation.”

The silence returned, heavier this time. Haibara’s gaze flickered back to you, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“She’s still the same, though,” he said after a moment, his voice softer now. “Same fire. Same recklessness. Same way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room when she looks at you. Like she actually sees you.”

Megumi’s hands clenched into fists. “What’s your point?”

Haibara hesitated, his eyes meeting Megumi’s. For a moment, there was something raw in his expression, something unguarded. But then he smirked, the mask slipping back into place.

“No point,” he said, his tone light again. “Just... nostalgia from before I left for London, I guess.”

Megumi didn’t respond. His gaze drifted back to you, his expression unreadable.

Haibara chuckled quietly, though there was no humor in it. “You know, it’s funny. Back then, I thought…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter now.”

Megumi’s eyes narrowed. “Thought what?”

Haibara shrugged, popping a chip into his mouth. “Nothing important.”

“Haibara,” Megumi said warningly.

Haibara sighed, his smirk faltering again. “I thought maybe if things had been different, if I hadn’t left before…” He paused, his eyes flickering to your sleeping form. “But they weren’t. And they aren’t. So.”

Megumi’s chest tightened. He wanted to snap at Haibara, to tell him to shut up, to stop saying things that didn’t need to be said. But he didn’t, because part of him understood.

“Doesn’t matter,” Haibara repeated, more to himself than to Megumi. “She’s back. That’s what counts, right?”

Megumi looked at him, his expression hard. “Yeah. That’s what counts.”

Haibara nodded, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer. Then he stood, stretching exaggeratedly. “Well, I’ll bring the car around; it’s getting late. Enjoy your vigil, Fushiguro.”

Megumi watched him go, his footsteps echoing softly in the hallway.

He turned back to you, his gaze softening despite himself. The twins moved again, and this time, he didn’t flinch.

“You’re not scared,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I won’t be either.”

You shifted slightly in your sleep, your hand tightening over your belly. Megumi leaned back, resting his head against the couch, his eyes staring into space.

After a bit, he got up, packed your laptops and his, and called his secretary to arrange for a flat in your building by the end of the week. Then he gently woke you and walked you to Haibara’s car, where he was waiting.

---

Once delivering you to ‘home/hell,’ Haibara turned to you with an uncharacteristic seriousness. “You sure you don’t want me to stick around? I can sleep on the couch. Or the roof. I’m versatile.”

Megumi, still scrolling through his phone in the backseat, didn’t bother looking up. “He snores. It’s like sharing a house with a sentient chainsaw.”

“At least I don’t sleep with my eyes half open like some Silent Hill reject,” Haibara shot back.

“That was one time,” Megumi muttered, unamused.

Despite the weight in your chest, a faint chuckle escaped. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for today.”

Haibara gave you a look that screamed, I don’t believe you, but okay. “Call if you need anything. And I mean anything. You want a yacht? I’ll steal one.”

You chuckled faintly. “Thanks, but I can afford yachts.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Rich people and their yachts. Megumi, let’s buy a submarine instead. Classier.”

Megumi finally glanced up. “Or we could stay on land like sane people.”

They walked you to the door, bickering the entire way.

Before you stepped inside, Megumi reached out and ruffled your hair. “I’ve increased security around here and at the office. If you faint, I’m installing 24/7 surveillance in your home. Don’t test me. Eat properly.”

You swatted his hand away, but his words lingered.

Bidding them goodbye, you shut the door and stood in the silence.

Too much silence.

Again.

The penthouse was eerily still, as if the air itself had grown heavy with awkward tension.

You headed straight for the old bedroom, not sparing the men a glance. Gojo and Nanami sat in the living room, their postures stiff, like overgrown schoolboys waiting for detention.

Gojo broke the silence, his voice cracking. “Baby, please—”

You walked past him without acknowledgement, your steps echoing in the quiet.

Nanami stood and followed, his voice low. “Let me help you carry—”

The door clicked shut behind you before he could finish.

The bedroom smelled faintly of them, and the sight of the bed you used to share turned your stomach. Moving methodically, you grabbed clothes, toiletries, and anything else you needed, avoiding any unnecessary glances in the room.

Opening a drawer, your hand froze when your eyes fell on a small envelope with your name, tucked into the corner.

An ultrasound.

Your heart sank. They’d heard the sound of your babies’ heartbeats without you.

Your hands trembled as you picked it up, the weight of it heavier than it should have been. You shoved it into your pocket, ignoring the pang in your chest.

You opened the door and walked past them again, carrying your things to the guest room.

The scalding shower that followed did little to help. The water seared your skin, but it couldn’t burn away the weight pressing down on your chest. Fresh clothes felt like armour, and the guest bed—while foreign—was at least yours.

---

Sometime later, the knock came like a countdown to something catastrophic. You had been staring at the spare living room TV, wondering how you’d drag it to your room. Everything else around you was a blur through the fog of your thoughts. The robe you wore felt too heavy against your skin, every fibre brushing against you like sandpaper.

Behind you, Gojo and Nanami were arguing in hushed tones, their voices tense. It was always tense now. You didn’t bother listening; they rarely said anything worth hearing anymore. But when the knock came, they stopped mid-sentence.

“Don’t answer that,” Gojo said, his Infinity thrumming faintly, a nervous hum that matched the way his hands twitched at his sides. Nanami’s face was unreadable, but his stance had shifted, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet—ready.

You ignored them both, padding to the door like a sleepwalker. When you opened it, the officers standing there didn’t look surprised to see you, dishevelled and wan. The lead officer’s eyes softened for a moment, but only a moment.

“Ma’am, we’re here to take Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento into custody,” he said, his tone professional. “They’re being re-arrested on charges related to the incident at your company headquarters.”

You blinked, confused. "I... I don’t understand. At night?”

“We’ve received new orders,” he replied. His gaze shifted past you, landing on the two men who had moved to flank you, their postures screaming defiance. “Please step aside.”

Gojo’s laugh was sharp and humourless. “You’ve got to be kidding. She’s pregnant. High-risk, no less. You can’t just drag us off.”

Nanami’s voice was quieter but no less intense. “She needs us. Stress could harm her and the babies.”

Who the fuck told them it was high risk? Were they lying to get out of jail? On your account?

Just when you thought they couldn’t get worse!!!

You jerked involuntarily, your hand brushing over your stomach. The movement wasn’t lost on the officers, who exchanged uneasy glances. But the lead officer didn’t waver.

“We’re not here to debate,” he said firmly, gesturing for his team to move in.

The cuffs came out, and Gojo’s Infinity flared instinctively, a shimmering barrier that held them at bay, but they didn’t seem to notice yet.

“Gojo, stop,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with something that made him falter.

You used his last name. You had never even used it when you guys first met.

And then the cramp hit. Sharp, twisting pain that stole your breath and buckled your knees. You gasped, clutching your stomach, your legs giving out beneath you.

“Baby?” Gojo’s voice cracked as he caught you. “Shit, shit, shit. Breathe. Just breathe.”

Nanami was at your other side, his steady hands shaking as they pressed against your back. “What’s wrong?” he asked you, eyes broken and scared.

The cops hesitated, torn between duty and the scene unfolding in front of them.

“Cramp…. Hurts…” You breathed out clutching Nanami’s shirt while the pain brought tears to your eyes.

“Thank god, I’m not a woman and can’t get pregnant even if the people on the internet try every day.”

All eyes turned to the doorway, where Higuruma Hiromi stood, his briefcase in hand and his expression smug.

“Who the hell are you?” One of the officers demanded.

“Most desired lawyer in the country and your accused's legal counsel,” Higuruma replied coolly, stepping inside.

He handed over a stack of documents. “This is a court order preventing their arrest until after the completion of her pregnancy. Given her medical condition, their presence is deemed essential for her well-being. Any undue stress could endanger her and the unborn children. Do you really want that liability on your hands?” He declared, back to business.

Your husbands looked at each other, thinking that Ijichi must have tattled to Yaga, who would’ve created a backup plan.

The lead officer’s jaw tensed, but he took the documents and scanned them. After a long moment, he sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Fine. But they can’t leave the country, and we’ll be monitoring them closely.”

“Of course,” Higuruma replied smoothly, his tone as dry as the Sahara.

Then the officer turned to you, his demeanour shifting from stern professionalism to something almost... reverent. “Ma’am,” he said, pulling out a card from his breast pocket with the air of someone bestowing a sacred relic. “Here’s my card. Please feel free to contact me directly if you need anything.”

You blinked, thrown by the sudden change in tone. The officer’s gaze flicked to your face, then to your stomach, then back to your face. His ears were a little too pink for someone allegedly unflappable.

Before you could react, Gojo snatched the card mid-air, his grin venomous. “Thank you, Officer Friendly, but I think we’ve got this handled. I’ll call if we need anything.”

The officer’s expression hardened, his jaw flexing as he snatched the card right back with the precision of someone who definitely practiced baton drills too much. He leaned slightly closer to you, his voice lowering into something almost conspiratorial. “I’d really rather not have terrorists calling me. But you, ma’am—please call anytime.”

Nanami’s grip on your arm tightened imperceptibly, his gaze icy, clipping the space between you and the officer like an invisible barrier. “I believe we’re done here,” he said evenly, his tone calm but carrying enough weight to make the officer hesitate.

The officer held his ground, though his resolve wavered slightly under Nanami’s unrelenting glare. Finally, he handed you the card with a small bow that was entirely unnecessary but also entirely intentional.

Gojo’s laugh was a sharp bark devoid of humour. “Wow. Bold move. Should I call HR on you for harassment, or do we settle this with a good old-fashioned duel?”

“HR?” the officer asked, his lips twitching upward. “What’s that like for someone suspended indefinitely?”

Higuruma, standing off to the side, pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “idiots.”

You sighed, pocketing the card without comment, your patience wearing thin. “Thank you, officer!” You smiled, your tone happier than you intended but justified given the circus playing out around you while your stomach tried to stab itself metaphorically.

The officer gave you one last lingering look before gesturing for his team to follow him out. As they filed out, Gojo muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Bet he practices handing out business cards in the mirror.”

The officer stopped in his tracks, turning back just enough to say, “And I bet you practice losing everything you’ve ever loved. Looks like it’s paying off.”

The door slammed shut before Gojo could respond, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

Nanami cleared his throat, his expression blank but his ears noticeably red. “Well. That was... unprofessional.”

Gojo turned to you and Nanami, his eyes wide with exaggerated indignation. “Are you seeing this? Are we seeing this? Did he just flirt with my wife in front of me while I’m literally being arrested?!”

You raised an eyebrow, deadpan and stared at Higuruma, refusing to make eye contact with your husbands.

Gojo internally threw his hands up, looking at Nanami for backup. “Say something!”

Nanami’s expression was neutral, but his tone was pointed. “Perhaps he just appreciates the way she carries herself. Unlike others who spend their time making scenes.”

“Scenes?!” Gojo gasped. “This isn’t a scene! This is self-defence! That guy was ready to propose on the spot!”

“Can’t blame him,” Higuruma added, smirking as he snapped his briefcase shut. “She is a trillionaire CEO. Meanwhile, you two are, what? Notorious ex-terrorists with zero tact?”

Nanami looked personally offended, while Gojo muttered, “I regret hiring you.”

Higuruma shrugged, clearly unbothered. “You didn’t. And you’re welcome.”

You moved a hand to rest on the back of your waist, pain searing through you.

Gojo’s arms tightened around you, his breath warm against your hair. “It’s okay, baby. We’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”

You let them fuss over you, their desperation palpable. But when Higuruma spoke again, his voice was low, serious.

“You really need to stop falling down so often,” he said in a dry voice, eyes flicking to you.

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing over your stomach in a gesture that could have been maternal if not for the glint in your eyes. “Why would I, when I always have such big, strong pairs of hands ready to catch me?” You straightened, shrugging off your husbands' hands as you stood. 

The silence that followed was palpable. Gojo and Nanami stayed frozen, their gazes a mix of reverence and desperation.

Was that...teasing? 

Hope flickered in their eyes—the kind of hope you hadn’t seen in a long while.

Hiromi scoffed, breaking the moment.

“What? It’s not their fault they’re attached to terrorists,” you smiled.

Hiromi chuckled, his low laugh carrying a hint of approval. “True. I don’t agree with it, but getting them arrested only to bail them out? Was hilarious. And the lack of your fingerprints, DNA, or blood in any systems made forging the documents way too easy. Thanks for doing half the work.”

Gojo and Nanami stood like statues, the gears in their heads grinding to comprehend what they’d just heard.

“If you really wanna thank me, carry that to my room.” You gestured at the spare TV in the corner of the giant living room, your tone as sweet as honey and just as sticky. The doe-eyed look you threw Hiromi would’ve melted a lesser man.

Hiromi faux-sighed, trying to hide a twitch of his lips. “You’re my most demanding client,” he said, but he complied, setting his briefcase and coat down, rolling up his sleeves, and lifting the 65-inch TV easily. He followed you to your room, then held the TV against the wall while you connected wires and fiddled with the settings.

Gojo and Nanami watched, stunned into silence. Their jaws were practically on the floor at your pornographic behaviour—you’d asked Hiromi for help, not them. The sting of rejection was sharp, but the sheer audacity of the scene left them too shocked to speak.

Gojo grabbed Nanami’s arm as the latter made a move toward the hallway. “Baby will kill us!”

“She can’t,” Nanami muttered, his jaw tight as he tried to shake Gojo off.

“But she’ll never forgive us and run away again,” Gojo hissed, tightening his grip. “And that’s worse.”

Hiromi walked out moments later, then slung his coat over his shoulder and took his briefcase. He winked at the two men before walking out, which sent Gojo’s cursed energy flaring.

This time Nanami held Gojo back. “He’s more than five years older than her. Remember? She’s not into older men.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed. “So what? She likes it when we’re jealous. A little bit of purple hasn’t killed anyone... yet—I’ll even make it micro.”

Before Gojo could finish his argument, you reappeared, dragging the long HDMI cable—from your home office PC—in one hand and your other hand resting on your belly. You walked past them without a word, towards your room to connect it to your TV with a focus that only further bruised their egos.

“Baby?” Gojo’s voice was barely a whisper, a mix of confusion and fear laced through the words.

Hiromi’s laughter echoed faintly from the elevator as the doors slid shut, leaving your husbands to stew in their own comedic misery.

“Thank you for playing your parts so well,” you said, stopping and turning to them, your tone so light it suspiciously sounded like a serial killer.

“What are you talking about?” Nanami questioned.

You laughed; a sound so cold it made the room feel like a tomb. “Oh, come on. Did you really think I was the victim here? That I didn’t know exactly what I was doing? That I wouldn’t save my reputation and my company? That I’d just sit there and let you humiliate me like some obedient little housewife? Aww, sweet Toru and Kenny, you really don’t know me at all.”

Their silence and wide eyes were enough.

You walked into the living room and switched the TV on to a news segment replaying your earlier interview. The headline scrolled across the bottom: CEO Calls for Justice Against Corruption.

“Watch closely,” you said, stepping back.

//

Your face appeared on screen, addressing a virtual conference. “I am here to address the wave of misinformation, targeted harassment, and societal hypocrisy that has overshadowed the recent events surrounding my personal life and professional endeavours.”

You paused, allowing the gravity of your words to sink in. The silence commanding attention.

“For weeks, I have been the subject of a relentless smear campaign. Doctored photos, slanderous hashtags, and vile comments have spread like wildfire. I am not here to defend myself against lies. The truth speaks for itself.”

Your gaze shifted slightly as if addressing each viewer individually. “What I am here to ask is this: Why is it that the victims—particularly women—are vilified while the perpetrators are exalted?”

The room seemed to be still as your voice sharpened. “My husbands stormed this very building, injuring employees, destroying property, and disrupting the livelihoods of countless individuals. They were released within hours. Hours. Meanwhile, I—almost six months pregnant—am subjected to public humiliation and professional sabotage, even though I was the one defending my employees. I ask you, what kind of justice system allows this?”

You leaned forward, your hands pressing against the table. “Why am I being hounded by reporters, deepfake pornographic videos, and accusations while the men responsible for this chaos roam free? Why do they continue to be idolised, their actions excused, and their faces plastered on social media as objects of desire? Why is my character, my competence, and my humanity questioned simply because I exist as a woman in a position of power?”

Your voice softened, but the tension in the air only grew. “This isn’t just about me. This is about every woman who has been blamed for the actions of others. This is about a society that continues to hold women to impossible standards while excusing men for behaviour that should be condemned. This is about a judicial system that protects the powerful and punishes the vulnerable.”

The chat feature on the News channel exploded with comments:

"She’s right. Why aren’t they being held accountable?”

"She’s pregnant and dealing with this? What the hell is wrong with you people?”

"Typical. Men screw up, women pay the price.”

"Oh, but if a man was in her place, y’all wouldn’t care. Hypocrites.”

"How about holding everyone accountable? This gender war is exhausting.”

You sat back slightly, exuding calm control even as your words pierced like a blade. “I built this company from scratch. I’ve led it to heights no one thought possible for a gaming company. And yet, here I am, fighting not just for my reputation but for my right to exist without being reduced to my relationships. To those perpetuating this harassment, I have one thing to say: You will be held accountable. Legally. Financially. Publicly.”

You placed a hand on your stomach, your voice softening yet still carrying a firm edge. “I am bringing two lives into this world, and my focus should be on their well-being, not defending myself against baseless attacks. To everyone who has contributed to this circus: consider what you are forcing me to endure and what you are creating for my children to encounter as they grow up. Reflect on the world you are shaping for the next generation.”

Another pause. The silence deliberate.

“To the judicial system, I ask: Where is the accountability for those who stormed this building and endangered innocent lives? Where is the justice for the employees injured, for the property destroyed, for the lives disrupted? And to those watching, I ask: Will you stand by and allow this hypocrisy to continue? Or will you demand better—from your media, your government, and yourselves?”

The chat continued to explode:

"She’s calling out the entire system. Respect.”

"She’s doing this while pregnant? Absolute legend.”

"Not all men, but somehow always a man.”

"She’s manipulating y’all. Open your eyes.”

"Even if she’s manipulating us, tell me this: why are we letting them off the hook?”

“If those men were ugly with would have been an episode of ‘True Detective.’”

Your gaze hardened as you delivered your final words. “This is not just my fight. This is a fight for justice and for accountability. And I will not stop until it is won.”

The stream ended, but the world did not remain silent.

News channels replayed the clip endlessly, social media platforms were flooded with debates, and public opinion was polarized.

“Going against the two terrorists, yakuza or whatever they are while being pregnant with their kids and living with them requires guts.”

"She’s a feminist icon we need but don’t deserve.”

"Accountability for everyone, not just her husbands.”

"The justice system is broken. She’s right.”

"Her poly marriage is still weird, though.”

Some called for the immediate re-arrest of Gojo and Nanami. Others accused you of deflecting blame. Gender dynamics became a flashpoint, with men and women clashing over who bore the brunt of societal judgment.

Meanwhile, government officials scrambled to address the public outcry. Arrest warrants for your husbands were quietly reissued.

//

You muted the broadcast, fixing them with a manic smile they’d never seen before—one that somehow felt more real than any expression they’d witnessed on you. “Now that the entire nation is watching your spiral, maybe you’ll begin to understand. Understand what it feels like to have your autonomy stripped and your every move scrutinized. When I met you two all those years ago, I was wandering alone in public. I valued privacy, anonymity, the freedom to roam without interference. But you—” your voice stabbed like a scalpel “—only cared about yourselves. You stormed my headquarters, hurt my people, and left me no choice but to retaliate by sending people aimed to kill you both.”

You picked up the house iPad. Gojo’s account was still logged in, a fitting reminder of his carefree ignorance staring back at you as if mocking the weight of what you were about to reveal.

Without a word, you typed in the hashtag that had been haunting your mentions and shoved the device toward Nanami.

His expression darkened as his eyes scanned the posts, a deep crease forming between his brows. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the iPad tightly. The feed was a grotesque mosaic of fabricated images and videos depicting you in compromising positions—some pornographic, others manipulated with strangers. The comments were even more disturbing: venomous calls for your death, demands for punishment for being “unnatural” for being married to two men, and horrific assertions that, because of your supposed sex addiction, you deserved to be violated—burned alive along with your babies—their babies.

Gojo’s hand shot out, snatching the iPad before Nanami could process it all. His lips pressed into a thin, furious line as his sharp blue eyes darted across the screen, scrolling through the filth.

Nanami seized the iPad and slammed it against the TV console, the crack of shattering glass reverberating through the penthouse.

“You couldn’t even watch it for five minutes,” you said, your voice low, the calmness more hurtful than any scream. Your gaze flicked between them, icy.

Nanami’s jaw clenched, the tendons in his neck taut. “This—this is beyond cruel. These people are monsters.”

“Monsters don’t come from nowhere,” you shot back, your voice like a whip. “They’re made. By families, by communities, by men who laugh while girls like me are turned into jokes, into targets.”

Gojo took a step toward you, hand half-raised, but you flinched instinctively, moving your hands to cover your belly. It was subtle—a fraction of a second—but enough to freeze him in place.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “I’m so glad I never told you two where I came from. Maybe you would’ve joined the same mob."

Silence.

They couldn’t meet your gaze.

You exhaled, your walls firmly back in place. “Megumi is taking care of it,” you said, your tone detached. “Because unlike you, he listens. And he doesn’t ask me to relive the worst parts of my life to prove himself, even when he hated me.”

You then sighed fondly. “You know Haibara even begged me to let him kill you that day, and honestly, I don’t know if he’d have succeeded. He’d just retired, finally at peace, but I had to plant him there anyway. Because I needed to know. I needed to see what you’d do. And you didn’t disappoint. I had to tell my best friend how to hurt my own husbands that day—who I would have given my remaining organs to, even if it meant dying. The people I thought would never betray me.” Your voice cracked slightly, but you steeled yourself. “Even after having two husbands, I still don’t have a single sane one.”

Gojo shrank back. Nanami stiffened, his fingers curling into fists.

“Here’s how this works,” you continued. “You’ll stay quiet. You’ll play along. Because if you so much as whisper about how I orchestrated this—caused civil disturbance for your arrest only to bail you out—or if you don’t go back to jail once the babies are born, I will ruin you. Completely. No money, no clan influence, no technique will save you. I will make you both the most hated beings on the planet.”

You didn’t wait for their reply. The broadcast continued as you walked to your room, the sound of your door closing serving as a final punctuation.

Gojo sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. Nanami remained standing, staring at the TV as the news anchor recapped what you’d set in motion.

“She planned this,” Nanami said. “Every step. Every goddamn step.”

Gojo exhaled sharply. “You have to admit I was right; she does hate us.”

Nanami’s eyes drifted around the room. “Do you remember her house when we first met her?”

Gojo’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, what about it?”

“There’s nothing like that here,” Nanami said, his voice low and filled with sorrow. “Nothing that’s hers. Nothing she’d choose for herself—just her wardrobe and work gadgets. All the decor suits our tastes, not hers.”

Gojo’s head snapped around, his six eyes scanning every detail—the decor, the glaring absence of her presence. His shoulders slumped, a sense of dread creeping in. “Do you think she… gave herself up? For us? Became a chameleon?”

“I think she did,” Nanami replied quietly, the weight of the realization heavy in the air. “She thought it was what we wanted, what would keep us close to her. She stopped taking pictures years ago. Remember her self-portraits? How breathtaking she used to look in those black and whites? She hasn’t taken any in ages. And I didn’t even notice.”

Gojo leaned back, his head thudding against the couch, a wave of regret washing over him. “I stopped asking her about her past. About where she came from. She used to dodge the questions, and we just let her.”

Nanami turned away, his shoulders tense. “Maybe she was never really here. Maybe we only saw what we wanted to see.”

Gojo leaned back, his head thudding against the couch. He stared at the ceiling, unblinking, as if he could burn the image of her pain into his memory as penance. His voice was barely audible. "She built walls so high we didn’t even try to climb them. We just admired them from the ground and called it love." His lips twisted into a grimace, self-loathing etched into every line of his face.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered. “I can’t keep pretending we’re the good guys.”

Nanami didn’t respond. Instead, he reached for the whiskey bottle on the table, pouring himself a glass with steady hands. He stared at the amber liquid for a long moment but didn’t drink. “We’re not the good guys,” he said finally, his voice cold and matter-of-fact. “We never were.”

Gojo’s laugh was broken, filled with self-loathing. “So what are we, then?”

Nanami set the glass down with a heavy thud, his gaze meeting Gojo’s. “We’re the villains in her story.”

//

Behind closed doors, you let the mask and your scratchy robe slip altogether. The twins stirred faintly, but their calm felt like an extension of your own. Maybe it was because, for the first time, you’d stopped being afraid.

You logged onto the game, slipping on your headset for the voice-only chat with the team. Haibara’s voice came through immediately, cheerful and loud. “Finally! Took you long enough. Act well? Did the popo buy it?”

“Unfortunately,” you answered. Laughing at Haibara calling the police ‘popo.’ He had a way of making you laugh at the silliest things even after heavy moments—sometimes he didn’t even know about, like now.

“Thought you got caught in your own web.” Haibara teased.

“Not yet,” you muttered, smirking.

Megumi sighed. “Did the morons bother you again?”

“They tried,” you replied, sighing. “But I don’t wanna talk about it; let’s play; it’s already too late.”

“Bro, stop looting everything!” Haibara, as username PanicButton, yelled, the sound of gunfire echoing faintly. “You’re supposed to share the treasure.”

“It’s not my fault you’re slow,” Megumi deadpanned, his character swiping yet another chest. “Git gud.”

You laughed softly. “Focus, idiots. I didn’t log in to babysit you.”

“Babysit?!” Haibara gasped dramatically. “Says the one who can’t land a helicopter. Some gaming CEO you are.”

"Hey!” you shot back, “forgive me for not living online like you two losers. But watch me carry this possy.”

“Yeah, carry us straight off a cliff,” Megumi muttered, his character hopping onto a horse and bolting toward the next mission marker.

The banter was chaotic—the kind that made your stomach hurt from laughing. Testing unreleased games with Haibara and Megumi felt like a bizarre throwback to simpler times—if you could call it that.

Haibara zoomed in on the screen with a grin. “Oh, just ignore the fact that I totally saved your ass from that bison. Not everyone gets to be a hero.”

You sighed. “Yeah, a hero who throws me off a moving wagon mid-missions. Very heroic, 10/10.”

“That’s a tactical manoeuvre,” Haibara shot back with mock innocence. “You’ll thank me later.”

Megumi sighed, adjusting his position like he was the only sane one here. “We’re supposed to be hunting, not starting a podcast.”

“Well, hunting’s boring,” Haibara quipped, shooting at a random bird that was already halfway to Canada. The bullet missed by miles. “Look at that! Pure skill.”

“Very MI6 of you,” you said dryly, earning a snort from Megumi.

Out of nowhere, your character charged directly toward a camp full of armed NPCs. “Let’s see who gets shot first.”

The NPCs instantly zeroed in on you. Gunfire, shouting, and horses trampling everything in their path. Your character was dodging bullets like she had a sixth sense, but then Megumi’s character just jumped off a cliff into the swamp for no reason at all only to be immediately mulled by an alligator. All the while Haibara’s was busy taunting NPCs on the other side of the camp.

“Looks like the good Lord got your ass and face mixed up!” Haibara emoted at an NPC.

You burst out laughing and ran to join him, whispering to the male NPC’s wife, “Ma’am, you’d be beautiful if both your eyes looked in the same direction.”

Haibara, encouraged by your level of chaos, added to his NPC victim, “Bet your Pa wished he’d have pulled out.”

Megumi suddenly appeared behind Haibara, delivering some karmic justice. “Promise me you won’t have children, mister.”

You turned on Megumi, smirking. “I’m sorry, miss; there must have been a terrible accident.” You emoted pointing at his face. Because apparently, in Megumi’s gamer brain, playing with female characters was supposed to give him an edge.

Haibara joined forces with you. “How come you only have one eyebrow?”

You tipped your hat at Haibara. “You make me glad to be a criminal.”

Megumi wasn’t done with you two. “I’m gonna install Windows in your skull,” he grumbled.

“Stay in the kitchen,” you teased, watching Haibara spin in a circle on his horse before nearly crashing into a tree.

Then, an NPC passed Megumi, calling him a “filthy bitch” as he along with his horse crashed into the mud. You and Haibara immediately went chasing the NPC down while laughing your asses off.

It didn’t stop there. As all three of you became wanted, a lawman chasing Megumi yelled, “I love it when it’s a woman... Feels romantic.”

Another one yelled at you, “Shoot her, men! She ain’t no lady.”

Haibara went to buy ammo in Rhodes, and the shopkeeper shot him a confused look. “I don’t get many ladies in my shop.” He was in a male character.

Then, the lawman chasing Megumi, who still hadn’t given up his female character, yelled, “We ain't no Sunday soldiers, girly!”

After you all dripped yourself from the cash you’d earned, you strutted out to show off, and an NPC walked by, taunted, “Did you mean to leave the house looking like that?”

“Oh hell nah.” Both Haibara and Megumi yelled in unison and chased the NPC down with Molotov cocktails, only for him to get away while flipping them off.

One NPC had the audacity to yell,

“You did well in your last mission.

For a woman!”

You didn’t hesitate as you pulled out an elephant rifle and shot him right in the dick. Haibara and Megumi groaned. “Ohh, I felt that!”

Finally, an NPC called Haibara “thicker than a rock.”

Haibara froze, staring at the screen. “Did that NPC just body-shame me?”

“You’re not the one getting shot in the balls,” you said, wiping away tears from laughing. “But I think you’re thicker than a rock, too.”

And with that, your spirits were lifted, for now, by absolute stupidity and the best-worst friends ever.

After an hour, your stomach growled.

Loudly.

Oh, no.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You forgot snacks.

“I’ll be back. Need food. Muting myself.”

They acknowledged you as their characters continued galloping through the map. Megumi tied you to his horse in-game, ensuring to carry you wherever they went, while Haibara gleefully chased him with a lasso.

You looked through the door’s keyhole, and lo and behold there he was—Gojo, sitting cross-legged on the floor directly in front of it, his head tilted slightly towards the floor as if he’d been waiting for you to notice.

God, no. Why?

Why now?

Where was all this devotion before?

Now you didn’t even care. You thought to yourself, mocking them.

You inhaled sharply, and that’s when you caught it—Nanami’s cologne, faint but unmistakable. He was somewhere close too, probably lingering just out of sight.

Your shoulders tensed as you sighed, clutching your stomach like a school bag to hoist it for maximum speed because ‘aerodynamics’ or whatever Gojo used to nerd about. Not that it would help much, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The door creaked open, and before you could fully process your decision, you darted toward the kitchen.

Gojo’s head snapped up instantly, his eyes widening as he scrambled to his feet. He moved faster than you expected, his long legs closing the distance in seconds, thinking you were actually going to make a run for it.

// Bold is their POV, Both sides are oblivious to the others thoughts

Once you stopped, Nanami was already in the kitchen, his back to you, doing... god knows what. The faint clink of utensils and deliberate movements felt oddly calculated, like he was waiting for you to arrive.

He had been standing there for hours. Waiting. The same hand that now held a spoon had been trembling earlier, and he hadn’t been able to calm it. Not since he heard the faint shuffle of your feet from your room.

You ignored the tension knotting your stomach and headed for the cabinets. Your expression remained a mask of indifference, even as you frantically searched for your snacks.

The first cabinet? Empty.

The second? Also empty.

Panic crept in as you opened cabinet after cabinet, each one devoid of the comfort you were looking for. You kept your poker face on and frantically searched the entire kitchen. Everything was where it was supposed to be except for your snacks.

Had Gojo swallowed them whole? Or did they throw them all out just to spite you?

Gojo winced as he watched you open cabinet after cabinet. He wasn’t sure if the dull ache in his chest was guilt or something worse. Probably worse. It always felt worse these days.

Finally, your gaze shifted upward to the top shelves.

You tiptoed, straining to reach the handle, when Nanami stepped in behind you.

Too close.

His presence loomed like a ghost, his breath disturbingly steady as he reached over your shoulder and handed you the basket.

Your fingers grasped it, but he didn’t let go.

You yanked harder; he didn’t let go.

Nanami’s hand didn’t move. It wasn’t stubbornness. He wanted to let go. God, he wanted to let go. But something in him screamed that if he let go of this basket, he’d lose more than snacks. He’d lose the last shred of a connection he had to you.

You aggressively tried to snatch it, but he wouldn’t let go. His face remained calm, almost serene, but the way he watched you made your skin crawl.

Nanami’s calmness was a mask, one he’d perfected over the years. Beneath it, his mind was spiralling. He wasn’t looking at you. Not really. He was looking at the faint bruise on your arm from yesterday, the hollowness in your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Your patience snapped, and you let go with an inaudible huff, glaring at the floor—refusing to make any kind of eye contact with them—before turning to leave.

You would order something or get Haibara or Megumi to drop off something.

But before you could take a step, Gojo was there, blocking your path. His long arms caged you in.

Gojo had moved instinctively, holding you hostage before he even realized what he’d done.

Your heart raced as you forced yourself to maintain your poker face mixed with ‘ready for aggressive retaliation.’ Inside, though, fear clawed at your chest. Sandwiched between the two of them immediately took you back to how only yesterday they’d dragged you out of your lower cabinet in Norway.

You were acutely aware of your vulnerability—the shorts and crop top you wore felt like they offered no protection, no barrier between you and their oppressive presence. But nothing else felt comfortable enough to sleep in right now, and you certainly hadn’t planned on coming out to face them tonight.

You had reached a point in your life when the fathers of your babies terrified you.

His heart sank when he saw the flicker of panic in your eyes—the way your shoulders stiffened, your gaze locked firmly on the floor. You were scared. Of him.

The thought sent a cold wave of nausea through him.

You’d carry a knife everywhere if only it would work on these two. Damn, why didn’t you marry someone your own size?!

Gojo’s gaze softened, his head tilting as if he could sense the panic you were trying to hide. You were certain you had kept your expressions in check, even as you stared at the floor.

Gojo wanted to say something, anything, to make you look at him. But the words stuck in his throat, replaced by the crushing weight of his own failure.

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to flinch, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you crack.

Nanami finally broke the standoff, his voice quiet but unnervingly calm. “Here.”

He handed you another basket—this one filled with snacks labelled “Baby Bribes” in obnoxiously cheerful colours and comic sans as if a toddler had designed it after a sugar rush. There were granola bars that looked like they’d been around for the First World War, fruit cups that seemed to be having an identity crisis, and a suspiciously large bag of pickles that had a warning label: “Caution: May Cause Uncontrollable Cravings and Sudden Urges to Call Your Ex.” It also came with a note that read: “Congratulations! You’re now the proud owner of a snack collection that’s 90% fibre and 10% sanity! Enjoy your journey into the wild world of pregnancy snacking—where every bite is a gamble and every flavour is a surprise!”

The packaging didn’t match the suffocating tension of the moment, but your stomach growled loudly, and the twins made the decision for you.

You snatched it, muttering something under your breath that neither of them caught, and bolted toward your room, lifting your stomach for speed like a getaway bag.

Their eyes followed you until the door clicked shut behind you, but their presence lingered, heavy and inescapable.

Gojo’s hands fell limply to his sides. His eyes were burning, but he didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

Nanami exhaled shakily, his grip tightening on the edge of the counter. His knuckles were white. "If I were her, I’d never forgive us," he murmured, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.

Gojo didn’t respond. His gaze remained fixed on your direction, his expression blank but his thoughts anything but.

They stood there long after you left, two men drowning in despair, unable to reach the one person they’d promised to protect.

What would your employees think if they knew you were lifting your stomach to run around the house, like some cursed gargoyle?

They would immediately suggest a game based on it.

This felt like a new low for someone who is supposed to be an adult, even a mother soon, hopefully.

You logged back in, unmuting and muttering, “Husbands are so useless.”

Megumi and Haibara’s laughter echoed through your headset. “Tell us something we don’t know,” Haibara quipped.

Megumi added, “At least in-game, you can lasso them into silence.”

“Or shoot them in the dick,” Haibara added solemnly.

“Don’t tempt me,” you replied, smirking.

These are some funny chapter names I thought of :D The Tragic Elegance of Comic Sans Haibara’s MI6 Resume > Your Life Choices Kento’s Stoic Crisis (Now with Extra Trauma) Satoru Gojo’s Six Eyes and Zero Brain Cells Lawyer Hiromi with zero chill NPC banter: 10/10 The Only Therapy Here is the Comments Section Overprotective idiots in love Dumbass husbands being dumbass husbands Polyamorous dumpster fire Graphic Depictions of Emotional Damage™ Poly Relationship Drama with Terrorist Husbands Crack Cocaine Writing Energy Found Family, Lost Sanity Philosophical Angst in a Comedy Wrapper

A/N: Apologies in advance for the long ass note. Okay, let’s acknowledge the obvious: I have a personal vendetta against all these characters, apparently. The moments involving Haibara, Megumi, and the reader playing the game with sheer foolishness are inspired by real life and are dedicated to my close friend Farhan, who was like Haibara in many ways IRL—only more reckless and sassier. He was an exceptionally talented VFX and motion graphics artist and contributed to numerous projects, including a ton of Marvel and DC movies. Tragically, a few years ago he passed away after an accident that initially left him unscathed. He went home and didn’t inform his family, along with his wife, who was with his family at the time, thinking they’d worry. But three days later, he experienced severe pain due to internal bleeding. He sadly passed away just hours after arriving at the hospital, only two months after getting married. Farhan is still deeply missed, and I haven’t enjoyed playing with another team since his passing. But let his story serve as a cautionary tale: don’t take life too casually. And please, don’t feel sad for him—he wouldn’t want that. He was a true menace in the best way possible, so remember him like that. Bonus points if you can guess the game they’re playing! And, I know no one can alone carry a 65-inch TV because it's too fucking wide; trust me, I know. I have it. But in Daddy Hiromi, we thurst! More bonus points for more unhinged suggestions in the comments. And those who suggested ideas and voted on the last poll will get their reader service in the next chapter. Euh, why did that sound so gross.

Next chapter will be out on idk :P

All Works Masterlist

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz @thebumbqueen

Taglist Open.

[atangledfate]

It wasn't that he trusted her as much as he knew where she stood in times of duress. Rouge might have been a thief, and a criminal but she was also still one of them. She didn't want Eggman or Starline to be in power anymore then they did. She was coerced into working with GUN and so had no real love of them either. Trust was probably to strong a word for how he felt about that bat. It was more of a mutual understanding. That and she'd saved there bacon to many times for them to hate her.

" it's always a risk to trust Rouge, and she's likely to have her own agenda. But even with all that said, she's bailed us out to many times for me to hold any harsh feelings..."

" What Miles said... Rouge has always done right by us when it counted. She has to play both sides, to keep Tower off her case but... if i ever needed her i'm sure she'd show. Besides... I'm about 90% sure she was who let the Chaotix know about Tinker. If we hadn't been there Shadow would have offed him..."

His eyes went to Kit who he knew would have harsh words about that decision.

" Some folks still say i shoulda let shadow do the deed. But i still stand by my decision... the real criminal was always Starline... i think we can all agree on that "

==============================================

Lanolin wasn't so sure she agreed with Blaze on her perspective. Based on what Surge and Kitsunami told her, and all the files she'd read. Starline was a cunning adversary, who was always 20 steps ahead of everyone else. The real question in her mine was why attack blaze? what was he after? did they just cross paths by mistake? how did he survive his fight with eggman? was it really starline or maybe some copy cat?

" If there is anyone i'd consider to be near as dangerous as eggman it was---is Starline. He created Surge and Kitsunami... nearly replicating Sonic's speed and Mr. Prowers intellect and more. I think we'd be foolish to assume this attack was some vain attempt to defeat you... "

" Alerting GUN is probably wise, even if we aren't on equal terms now. Neither of us want Someone like him running around doing who knows what. As for Surge... i can't keep this from her or Kitsunami... i just worry they'll break this deal and flee... with intent to settle the score. honestly i don't even blame them... "

She sighed and looked rather somber as she stared out the window to the group below.

" Both of them have put some amount of trust in me. I've grown fond of them both as strange as that sounds. If i kept this from them they'd never forgive me... and i'd betray there trust... No, Once Surge returns i'll tell them. I owe them that much..."

"I feel as though I should be concerned you trust Rouge so easily, though I suppose it'd be hard not to trust someone who's come through when the stakes were high." Belle would have to simply take Sonic and Tails at their word, though it did make her wonder why Rouge would continue to mess with the Chaos Emeralds. They just only seem to cause trouble to whoever holds onto them, at least it sounds that way from all the stories she's heard.

"Yes, so smart to trust a criminal. Look at how well letting someone who can be a danger as worked out so far? You let Eggman go so many times and you get people like me and Surge." Kitsunami knew his words could be seen as hostile, though they were. The fennec just didn't see how they could let someone like that walk around let alone trust them. Maybe he was also still holding a grudge against them.

"He is a threat, though I do feel confident in having doubts he's as dangerous as Eggman. To be honest I'm surprised he attempted to even fight me as while he had a strange device to amp his powers it wasn't enough to even have me worry." Blaze wasn't sure if Starline was over confident in that device, if he was attempting to get something else, or thought he was smarter than he is. Regardless, the feline didn't have a hard time dealing with him.

"That said, what makes Eggman dangerous is how he seems to have no limit in what he will do to win. If Starline ends up taking the same course of action then he may become that level of threat." Blaze will say Starline seemed far more calculated which made him easier to read in a combat scenario. "Perhaps we should consider telling President Thawne as well. I doubt even G.U.N would want him running around if he is alive."

"I hate to put it like this, though it seems like Surge will have to make a choice. Turn herself in to keep Kitsunami from being arrested or both break though G.U.N's forces and hunt for Starline. Regardless, it is wise to share this information with her, even if it'll cause conflicting feelings." Blaze doubt Surge would take to the news well that Starline might still be alive.

[cassylost-inspace]

The object show community has honestly become so unsafe and toxic. I’ve only been in the community for a year and a half ,but the difference between now and then is honestly drastic. People don’t even enjoy the media anymore, all everyone does is criticise. While criticizing is fine, I don't think a community should be based on that. I have barely seen ANY positive posts about the ii movie, everyone treats it like it's meant to be God tier and I get that everyone thinks they should get what they deserve, but holy shit you guys have nothing good to say. Shipping has also become such a difficult point of discussion in the community, considering that everyone believes that their ship and their ship ONLY is good. Most of the shipping stuff wasn't relevant to me, because I'm a multi-shipper but the fandom takes ship wars to an extreme,honesty speaking. Another point is the fact that people are mad at ii for making canon ships,, again this doesn't bother me,because I have always liked all of the popular ships but it's honestly not that deep. I think I've seen like a million posts about the payjay scene from ii 18,, and people got SO mad over fan service despite the fact that it was like 3 minutes long 😭 Another thing is, I haven't talked about c2bc on here b4, but Cole getting cancelled proved how fast the fandom is willing to act immediately on a show's downfall. "I never really liked the show" that's really not the point here. I feel like people should take the situation of cole being racist more seriously instead of just taking this as a chance to bash the show. Moving on,, I remember seeing a post of someone saying "how could you even cry to object shows,, they're so unserious" why do you care? Genuinely WHO is it hurting.Moreover people saying stuff like only "12 year olds watch object shows" is dumb; because have you ever been in a fandom before??Teenagers literally keep fandoms alive, also who DO you want to be in this community. My last point is how almost everyone acts like object shows are meant to be "amazing works of art",, like they literally started off as terrible. These shows are indie and run by an even amount of people, stop treating the shows like Hollywood. Reminder that these people can do WHATEVER they want with their characters. Animationepic is one of the most listening teams out there, they sacrifice a lot for their fans and I personally think that they're allowed to do anything they want with their characters especially since they put so much effort into what the fans want. As someone who uses object shows and animation in general as a way to escape reality,, it is evident that most of you do the same. So I don't understand why there is just SO MUCH negativity coming from the community,, when os fans are so clearly talented and instead of putting effort into being hateful they can use this energy to make art, amvs, maps and animation memes and help uplift the community and it's overall impact on others.

Ik I normally don't post stuff like this, but the osc is REALLY important to me and I feel like this should be brought to more people's attention.

-Cassy

[midorikawawas]

The grace most people give to the other 5 prosecutors always seems lost whenever Nahyuta's mentioned and I can't see why.

I can't even accept the “He's poorly written” excuse anymore when he's one of the best parts of the entire game. Nahyuta's a man who's supposed to uphold religious and moral values for a whole nation in the middle of a cruel autocracy. He's being blackmailed by the leader of this regime with the safety and honor of his family, and as a child, he was separated from a brother. Everything he knows and loves is always pending by a thread that pushed him to turn into the lapdog of an evil queen, who's inspired by any 20th-century dictator you can think of.

His background as a rebel turned sell-out, and what crimes he did or did not commit as a prosecutor dealing with a warped version of the law and justice are enough to have us discussing for days, and so do many other things. Like, the way he uses religion to condemn others while he acts terribly, how he was pushed to do evil, if he did or didn't have any other choice, or if he can atone in some way. How does Nahyuta deal with this knowledge for the rest of his days? Because he's only 25 years old and never had the semblance of a “normal” life.

Canonly, Nahyuta's a prejudiced and holier-than-thou man who gave up on the idea of freedom for his country and himself, only if that could spare his sister from the hate and shame he endured for something he did not do. His severe and harsh behavior is stated to be the way he's protecting himself and the people around him from a greater evil HE vowed to serve.

All of this is in-game. Anyone who has played SoJ has seen this. It's textual. We all agree on these complexities of his character because he's all the things previously listed, but is also said by Apollo that Nahyuta had a gentle smile and was of a shy nature. We do know he's honestly devout and a man curious about the things the world beyond the Khura'in borders has to offer. The way all of this is presented may be flawed, but that is not how you make an excuse for a character being poorly written. All he did, his flaws, and the things we consider reprehensible, make sense for him as a character.

Yet some people think that Nahyuta having the word “putrid” in his vocabulary is a little too much to even sit down and understand him.

So yeah, I believe Nahyuta Sahdmadhi as a character deserves more thoughtful discernment.

[ryoko-loves-roses]

THE RECRUITER | SQUID GAME TK HCS

The Recruiter — LEE - 0.00000001% Goodluck. That’s all I have to say. If you try to tickle this guy, one out of two things would happen. 1. You’d either get shot on the spot, or 2. He’d kidnap you, and make you play a game. Now, not to say this because he’s not ticklish, cause trust me - HE IS. Maybe not hypersensitive, but he is an average ticklish guy. If you get lucky and you land a poke, he’ll jolt like a cat getting put into the bathtub. He doesn’t really expect it, because he’s always on his toes, and very alert - With that being said, his tickle spots include his armpits, and one i’d really like to say he’s ticklish in is his back… and that’s how you could land a poke or a scribble <3. I honestly would not recommend it, though - You don’t want to die young, do you? Alright… now… my FAVORITE portion… LER - 100% This man is sadistic. He is looking for spots that can make you scream your head off as your thinking comes to a halt. He doesn’t really wanna poke you since for most people, that doesn’t do much and he knows that - He wants to full-on dig, scratch - ANYTHING to get on your nerves. While he’s tickling you, he will have a shit-eating grin on his face, and you will know damn well that he’s enjoying your suffering. He finds your screams satisfying, and who knows when he’ll be satisfied enough and stop? God, he doesn’t even know. You may be asking yourself how the hell he is so good at tickling someone. Well, the man is extremely observant, and sometimes, even by the way you walk he could tell what spots to go for. But, is he merciless all the time? Well, of course, that is in his nature, but let’s say you are his romantic partner - Of course, he wants to see you screech your head off, but for a greater effect, he likes to start soft, and casually make his way to the spot that really gets you going… Verbal teases? Holy shit. If the tickling doesn’t make you turn crimson red, then the teases DEFINITELY will. I feel like he’d say something along the lines of “Oh… It tickles already? What a shame.. I haven’t even started the fun yet..” And something like “I’m barely even doing anything… mh.. I wonder what would happen if I went here?~” I swear to god he’d make sure you can’t breathe, and then, but only then will he consider stopping. To be honest, he’d probably have some bondage in his house for fun occasions like this - just for “emergencies”. Mercy…? Not on his bucket list, hun. A/N: i love him sm (even tho he's evil <3) thank you for this idea! If any of you have any more requests for HCS or fanfic ideas! LMK! <3

[starstruckloves]

this is gonna be a long one folks mwehehe

1. What are your favorite dates to have with them? Alternatively, what are their favorite dates to have with you?

i think my favorite type of date with Brett (oh yah this is all abt Brett btw bc ofc it is) is just like a little stay at home date maybe ? we'd like binge watch something together, get take out, all that. i feel like we try n have a date night every week on Sundays or if things get too hectic, every other week. but for Brett, i think he'd honestly like anything. i think he would believe he has to like do a lot n put in a lot of effort for it to be a date but then i tell him that we rlly can just sit at home i don't mind (n i'm also very easily pleased so SKHJDH) n he feels like he can chill a little

2. What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

uhh i don't have it exact or anything tbh (bc i rlly don't feel like going through it rn) but i am shorter for sure. my s/i is maybe like,, neck level to him

3. On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

oh he can do PDA all day baby SKGHSH he will not be shy about the fact that we're together. sling his arm around me in public, brief kisses, holding hands, all the likes. he won't go as far as making out or anything like that (unless i wanted to then maybe he'd consider it) but again, not shy abt the fact that we're together. the real reason he doesn't do it all the time is i just get overwhelmed occasionally

4. What's your favorite feature about your f/о?

his hair aawahbaba but thats very true for most of my f/os i just love their hair

5. What do you think they smell like?

unfortunately, axe body spray SKHJDB i think there was a joke about that in the show ? but yah something like that. n trust i will be actively trying to suggest him different things that maybe he'd like

6. What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

probably similar to me. words of affirmation at the top n quality time next in line. he really needs to validation that he's doing well n that i love him which, i will be honest, i'm not that great at but i will put forth the effort for him !!!

7. What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

okay think of like two very excitable but anxious dogs. thats us SKGHSG but on a fr note, we're just fairly similar. i'm just a bit more confident n assertive while he has more empathy n charm. but we're both excitable, affectionate, (kinda) idiots. it's bimbo n himbo love

8. Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

we hold hands a lot. anytime a meeting is getting too boring or one of us is secretly having a bad day ? boom hand holding. walking down the street ? we holdin hands. sometimes he even let's me hold pinkies with him bc he knows i like it from the older movies he watches hehehee

9. Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc) and vice versa?

he loves giving kisses whenever he can, mostly when cuddling. he becomes so affectionate when we're by ourselves n he can just do whatever so he will not stop kissing me like ever SKGHDH his favorite places to kiss are like my cheeks n shoulders maybe heehe but for meee hmm i would like kissing his nose n forehead probably just so i can like,, look at him SJGHSH hold his cheeks n look at him with my big ole eyes

10. What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

absolutely nothing SKGHSH sometimes work is tiring so one of us will just go over to the other's place n just do absolutely nothing together. maybe order a pizza, watch a movie we like, something random just so we can cuddle :]

this was so fun yippee yippee !!! love talking abt f/os

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-

SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:

What do your f/o's hugs feel like?

What are your favorite dates to have with them?

What are their favorite dates to have with you?

Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?

What's the height difference between you and your f/o?

On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?

What's your favorite feature about your f/o?

What do you think they smell like?

What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.

Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?

What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?

What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?

What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?

Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?

Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)

Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?

What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?

What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?

What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?

Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. ANYONE CAN PARTICIPATE! SEEING THIS POST IS AN INVITATION FOR YOU!!

People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar

[xlibra-rising]

The Astrology Of A Bad Friendship

So i had this super shitty friendship w/ this girl for about 6 years. Everything never worked out between us and we had our fair share of problems. We had a hot and cold relationship w/ each other and i never really understood her and she never understood me, so every time we did become friends again (this happened every year), it would always end badly.

Up top is our composite chart together and i feel like this helped me understand the foundations of our friendship and how it worked out as a whole. As a Leo, i stand my ground easily and once i said i was completely over her shit, i never went back to her ever again.

Capricorn rising should have been warning sign for this friendship from the start. This type of relationship needs structure and maturity to thrive and grow. Which, obviously, did NOT happen in this friendship. It hurts more that Saturn is in the 7th house here meaning that a good relationship grows here by seeing eye to eye.

When i was friends with her, she never got up and worked on our friendship. it was always about her and never about me. She actually didn’t care to even fix problems and just left me to fix her mistakes for her.

Jupiter conjunct Midheaven is kind of like putting someone on a pedestal and showing them off for how amazing and beautiful they are. I would call it “bestie worship”, that’s exactly how i was seen by her now that i realize it. But this can also set someone up really bad and just make you easier to get made fun of.

I wanna be nice but i kind of dont considering Pluto in the 12th here, yikes, no wonder. This was TOXIC and very manipulative. It’s like no one actually knew how she treated me because it wasn’t obvious to anyone else but me and her. I think this is also a very empowering placement in the means of breaking this relationship off. It WILL transform you, make you heal your subconscious a bit and make you realize how toxic it actually was.

Yes, she manipulated me and used me for many things. Money, my possessions and literally my whole persona. She liked what she could do with me when i got her on good terms. She told me i was pretty, funny and “rich” (i’m not by any means rich. She just liked to believe i was).

To make it even more difficult, Pisces Mars conjunct Uranus in the 3rd house. Yes, we fought a lot like i said earlier and it was usually over really unnecessary things but i never knew when she would lash out at me. I had to walk around eggshells when i was around her because if i said something she didn’t like, all hell would break loose. The Mars is also in the 2nd house of money and things of value. It’s kind of ironic that we always fought about things that were mine, not her’s. I felt like she thought she owned me at times.

the 5th house Sun made our friendship “fun” but it was more like a “what’s gonna happen next?” type of fun. But so many ups and downs with the friendship as well because i just couldn’t keep up half the time. It was exhausting and honestly she was all over the place to begin with. And yes, Taurus Sun, she wanted things her way or it wasn’t happening, she never liked when i was not doing anything so she always wanted to spice it up AKA stir drama.

[fangdokja]

Woahhh. Your page is very pretty! Very aesthetically pleasing. That must have taken a lot of energy and effort.

Your writing is also soo mind stimulating. I'm flabbergasted 💕.

Your blog deserves to look as good as your writing—here's how to do it.

❤︎ Synopsis. Discover quick and easy tips to elevate your Tumblr blog and fic aesthetics with cohesive designs, color coding, and formatting tricks—consider this your warm-up for the ultimate design guide!

♡ Book. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Word Count. 2,237

♡ Series. The Aesthetic Tumblr Blog Starter Pack - Part 1

♡ Banner's Story. Trust no one. Not even yourself.

♡ A/N. Actually, it's "casual"; but it's full of tutorials on how to achieve stuff like the picture below (and more), especially when designing your blog and fics. I only called it casual because it's not really formally organized like my usual. I literally typed all of this while I'm in a meeting, haha. Anyways, I'll show you how I design my blog and content.

designs + gradient texts + banner images like this: I love my Daddy Dom husband.

OK! START!

Aw, thank you, Anon. That’s the first time someone has commented about the aesthetics on the page. Thank you :)) And, yeahhh. Bro. You have no idea. Of course, the page didn’t always look like that.

I’m also glad you love the writing. I’m curious about which one’s your favorite so far, or what stories you like haha. It’s always interesting to see what content attracts people in general, just plain curious. But no pressure in answering though, just have fun and relax here. That’s all I want for you, Readers. Yes, even if it’s the erotic horror books and stories haha.

Glad to have flabbergasted you. Haha. Now! Story time! Since, I always like to reply as comprehensive as possible to each of your efforts in commenting, reblogging, or even just reading. I’m extremely thankful for the support :))

Actually, even the older stories in “A Heart Devoured” looked different aesthetically before. I experimented with a lot of things in this blog, even aesthetically.

Force of habit, but when I really enjoy something, I get into it full force. I’m usually lazy and such haha. But I can write like 7+ hours without breaks at all. Yes, even food and sleep. Would not recommend though.

My husband takes care of me usually. When I get “hyper focused”, I really have this mental space to just keep writing (or working in general). As long as I have fun, I can really commit to it whatever time of day. Though… of course, when adrenaline runs out, I get really tired after. But nothing that can’t be fixed.

Anyways. Back to the topic at hand.

Tumblr blog recommendations. If you want to start your own blog in general.

Based on general research and experience (e.g. searching top fanfics or posts), it solidifies that Tumblr really is heavy on visual content. It’s why art and short form, easily consumed, content does better here.

Usually, fanfics not as much. Again. My mindset (and the truth) is that Tumblr is a very VISUAL platform.

So, I made the effort to create pictures, and see in both in the phone and laptop on how it looks. Phone especially, since most users scroll on mobile. Convenient and easily accessible.

Anyways. I guess “business mindset”? I don’t know. Weird.

But, I always look at statistics, especially before. It’s something measurable and to see if there's more I can improve on in general. Aside from the fact people LOVE smut, and anything sex in Tumblr.

Until now, unfortunately, I don't know what post will blow up or not. To be completely honest. It's like sometimes I think this work is shiz (e.g. the recent Yandere! Nerd story), and that's doing extremely well. I'm shocked. Other times, stories that I think would do well didn't do as well in terms of stats.

So, honestly, I don't know how the system works. I'm still learning the ropes as well. Technically I know how it goes about, but on what content actually does well?

Well, even word count sometimes doesn't come into play. The Yandere! Ex-boyfriend story (could also low key because Gojo-like personality? idk)? That had a higher word count than average posts, at 9k words! But that story also did extremely well. That wasn't even a smut fanfic! I've posted drabbles and even 1k-2k (or even average 4k-5k) words stories and works that performed less than that.

In Tumblr, it's recommended to post shorter fics. The average for smut fics for instance is around 5k words, for example.

BUT. For some ODD reason. When it comes to my audience, you supportive Readers, it's like longer fics work better for you all jsfklfsdk. So, that's that...

At first, it would be good to experiment with anything from aesthetics to word count, beyond just your writing style and story content. That's what I did. Anything under the sun that I enjoyed, and by looking at top posts and seeing what they did.

I got a lot of aesthetic ideas from JJK smut fics. I don't read those haha. But my current formatting for fics? Those ideas were adapted from JJK smut fics, like this:

Do you want to know what's ironic? I don't read smut fics at all, like even back then. I tried it before, but the brain dead stuff wasn't working for me. If I were to read sex, it can't be the main point. Like my current writing style, there has to be plot, usually yandere non-con in general helped. Of course, never encountered a yandere author (or can't find any yet) that actually willingly kills the Reader or MC. It's due to circumstances or stresses at most, but never voluntary. No actual danger. Oh well. Rambled.

See the similarities in aesthetics for my work? It's pretty obvious, yeah? haha

These are the following similarities:

ALWAYS have a Banner image. Think of this like the cover page of your book, it has to be eye-catching and tell Readers a vibe of what's in the story. The rest of the design and text has to be color-coded with the banner image to create synergy and cohesiveness in design. Symmetry or concepts related to it makes your work appear neat. Yes, you have to consider this to add to your professionalism when presenting to your Readers.

ALWAYS have a Hook Statement. This isn't necessarily your fic's title, it's a single statement usually, concise and meant to incite interest among readers. Think of it like the first 3-5 seconds of a TikTok video or short-form videos. These hooks are meant to capture your interest straight away or you'll just scroll past.

ALWAYS have a Synopsis or summary of your content. This is especially needed for longer works or prose that are in traditional narrative forms. Gives a taste to the readers, so they know what they're getting into or before they commit.

ALWAYS have a Word Count. So your readers know what they're getting into. People are busy and have their own lives, some want to have a quick read of serotonin. Others are in a relaxed state and can afford to read long works. So, don't worry, your works will attract its readers naturally. Just be consistent in writing and posting. That's key. Show up even if you don't want to, if you really are committed to your blog and work.

ALWAYS have Trigger Warnings. As a Dead Dove author, it's a requirement for me to do so, especially for explicit works. It's not a weakness, it's respect to your readers. Also, it will help drive away people who get turned off or triggered by certain works. Don't make your life harder later, just be transparent now, so people don't annoy or send hate mail to you.

ALWAYS have a Divider. This was made by me, like majority of my graphic design works for my fics. This divider is simply to make your work more neat as well, and to VISUALLY show what people are getting into. It can both advertise your name, and also warn Readers if they don't read trigger warnings. Yes, some people don't bother with the details.

ALWAYS have "Ads". Yes, I technically advertise my other works. How? Through connecting the Masterlist link, the book where the work they're reading is located in. If they want to read more, they can read more "here". It's the equivalent of how social media recommends content that you may like. Look at the examples below, it's like that.

In these ASKS, I also link my works when casually chatting. And it works. Why do I ramble and do these Asks? It's not just to create a sense of community, but also to "advertise" my works. Look at this example ask.

The person talked about Paternal Privilege and commented on it, saying how the yandere is like this character from Love and Deepspace. So people who are interested in the game or have not heard about my work yet (like if you're a new reader and haven't read my old works), they can check out my work. See? I linked my work at the end. Yes, in each masterlist, I even "advertise". Can be annoying to others, but it does help spread awareness about my works in general. Every piece of interaction is cherished and crucial in building your audience.

This is an example of how what usual formatting looks like:

I also put author notes just for fun. This one isn't really a recommendation, but just for personal preferences. To communicate with readers about my writing processes and other matters or updates. But, again, it's just a personal thing.

Now, how do I make this? CANVA. This is how part of my workspace in Canva looks like:

Actually, for me, it's still kind of messy. I haven't fixed a lot of things yet for my work since I'm also busy. But this is a general idea.

I've been using Canva for years, even before it blew up. When it first came out, I've been using it already, so I've gotten a lot of practice with it. Though, I do use Canvas Teams; because I also use Canva for work, so a lot of features are available already to help me.

While working on my blog, I never considered myself a graphic designer even before my blog. But, to be honest, I ate my words again. My husband already said before I am also a graphic designer, not just an artist, so.... yeah.... I generally improved a lot more as well because I'm constantly churning out new content. Basically even if I think it's shiz, I still continue, post, work. Same concept with fics. Just keep working, even if you don't see it, with each work (even if it's unfinished), you're improving.

If you notice, I have 3 different covers for "World Ablaze." I had to repeat the finished product 3 times, because the cover was shiz compared to the others. And these weren't drafts. But, hey, got to use the other covers for my posts.

For Tumblr posts in general, I just pick two sizes and upscale it for higher image quality:

Tumblr Banner

Wattpad Book Cover

For the divider, it's 1350 x 80 px.

For my usual formatting in Tumblr banners, I usually go for this formatting. I just use grids on a new project:

And then choose the 4 picture grids, before looking at Pinterest and getting pictures.

I ALWAYS add filters, and upscale the image:

And, for texts, I just pick, usually gothic texts since it's my personal fav. I just substitute already preset design texts usually, just changing the actual text.

Like if you see "Recently Used", I just press the given text and place my title. Then, I do edit the "text effects" usually; mostly Neon so it pops out the title, since people usually use phones with smaller texts.

Just with those steps, I'm able to make covers like this:

♡ Ink & Insight. The writer's essential to fictional writing, no matter what genre you may be in. Though, if you're a dark content writer, then you're in for a treat.

And, for color coding texts. I use these two sites:

The uiGradients is for getting easy color codes to paste the code in the Fiddle. Then just paste the generated HTML code in your Tumblr post.

For the Fiddle, paste the color codes in the corresponding HTML line 3 and 4, where it says "first" and "last".

I picked a red color from uiGradients:

Then I paste it here:

Then, place your text or whatever title you want here:

Press run, and copy the text generated.

Then go to your Tumblr Post:

Change the "Text Editor" into HTML:

Switch to the HTML tab, then copy your text from the Fiddle:

It's supposed to be long, and that's fine. It's because of the gradient code required in the text:

Final Output looks like this:

I love my Daddy Dom husband.

Hope that was an easy tutorial to follow, haha.

Anyways.

Hope this post helps people! Whether you're a writing blog or another kind of blog, I hope these tips will help you! :))

P.S. As I'm writing this, I just realized something. I'm actually in a lecture for Brand Positioning. And, it actually fits well with this topic, haha. Is it obvious I come from business? hahahahah. Also I just realized, I have a lot to say on this topic.... huh.

[gothghostiie]

Hello! I looove your work, and I had a thought on like a cod firefighter au??? It would kinda be like a scent kink thing I guess... Please feel free to ignore this completely if it makes you uncomfortable at all!!!!!

Ok so, when firefighters come back from a fire they REEK of smoke and chemicals and stuff and honestly it makes me think of two different scenarios:

Scenario 1: cod man gets home from a fire and this man is smelly. Butttt you're so excited he's home and you're just all over him, burying your face in his neck, licking the grime and sweat off of his torso- all of it. Just obsessed with him, his smell, and the fact that he's alive and healthy.

Scenario 2: (Ngl, this one makes me think of your bully!soap). Okay, cod man gets home and you're happy he's home, happy he's safe, but you beg him to go shower because yuck. He finds how grossed out you are funny or something, and it leads to some deviant activities... Such as being stuck with your face buried in his armpit as he drills you from whatever position and makes fun of you. Or grabs your hair and makes you huff his scent from his crotch before he encourages you to suck him off. That kinda stuff.

With either scenario I can just imagine reader getting dizzy off of the smells and stuff and it's just- yeah.

Anyways! Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, and I hope you have a wonderful day/night! Remember to stay hydrated and eat good food :)

have the greatest day and take care of yourself lovie🫶🏻 and i LOOOOVE this and ill be damned if that isnt bully!soap as your boyfriend bc c'mon. you don't seriously think he'd stop being a bully just because hes your boyfriend now, right?

cw: bully!soap is his own warning, CNC, scent kink, facesitting, gn!reader

It's natural and normal that he sweats when he's at work, considering his profession. it's normal for you that he smells a little funky when coming home, but today? today he just reeks for some reason. he comes home and hugs you, kissing your head, you scrunch up your face and push him off slightly. his brows furrow and he almost pouts, holding you tighter. "the hell are you doing?" he asks, you frown softly, tell him to plesse just shower really quick, he can get all the hugs and kisses he wants after, just get washed up.

its needless to say this turned on you the second the words left your lips.

hes grinning, grip on you tightening. "what, y'dont like the smell of a workin' man? a man providing for ya?" he scoffs playfully as you try to squirm out of his big, calloused hands, his grip only tightens. "can't even fuckin' handle a little bit of me huh? might have to help ya get used to it, aye?" your eyes widen at the implications. you know you're in for it now. he picks you up with ease, hands under your ass, you wrap your legs around his waist for support. with a devious grin on his face he carries you into your bedroom, dropping you on the soft bed unceremoniously. his hands fiddle with his pants as you think about your poor sheets, before you even realise it he's already crawling over you in just his underwear. you can't even speak up to ask him what he's doing as his thighs find home on either side of your head, you see him grin down at you before he sits down, planting himself firmly on your poor face. you make a protesting noise, being forced to breathe in his musky scent, the sweat of a long day of work. you cry out, hands grabbing at his thighs, he laughs at you.

"what's the matter babe? don't like your own boyfriend's smell? that's devastating." he says, his tone mocking as he rocks his hips slightly, making sure to really rub it in. you cry out again, nails digging into his skin, trying to somehow get him to get off your face, even if you know the attempts are for nothing. he laughs, patting your hands gently, shaking his head even if you can't see it. "y'really dont like having to endure that do ya? want me to get up off that pretty little face?" the offer is almost too good to be true, you don't even think before nodding; only when you hear his deep chuckle you know he already has another thing to put you through.

he ruts his hips sharply one more time, his semi twitching before he lifts his hip, staying knelt down. you gasp for air, sputtering with a proper pout on your face, it makes him laugh. he pats your cheek briefly, cooing at you. "poor fuckin' thing, can't even handle that, hm?" he chuckles, his hands going to his underwear, pulling it off off him with skilled movements, never getting off of you. you whimper, pressing your lips together, expecting him to shove his filthy cock into your mouth - but no. one hand grabs your face, the other bunches up his underwear. "open up. now." his tone leaves no room for argument, neither does the harsh grip on your face, forcing your mouth open. you whimper in defeat, jaw going slack, he smiles. "there ya go.. thats my baby.." he says softly, genuine affection in his voice, despite what he's doing to you. his other hand forces the bunched up fabric into your mouth, making you gag briefly.

"there there.." he chuckles, patting your head like a dog. "don't worry, gonna distract ya." finally, he gets off your face, you blink at him with teary eyes, letting him have his way as his taste fills your mouth. his hands undress you with a surprising gentleness, caressing and squeezing softly as he smiles down at you. his touch stays gentle even as he pushes his cock into you slowly, inch by inch as you moan, heat rising all throughout your body as muffled moans fill the room. he smiles down at you, leaning down to kiss your forehead as he bottoms out - thats the last bit of gentleness he gives you before putting his weight on you, immediately humping you like hes in heat. your eyes widen, moans growing more frequent and louder, mixing in with his low grunts and skin slapping against skin.

it takes a few moments before you let yourself relax into the brain melting fuck, but by now you should know better than to trust your boyfriend like that. a strong hand grips the back of your head, before you can even open your eyes your face is forced into his damp, unshaven armpit. you yelp, hands trying to push him off, but he just laughs once again, keeping you held there as his thrusts get firmer, knocking the breath out of you, forcing you to breathe him in.

"gonna keep ya like this 'til you learn to fucking love it.."

[boopshoops]

No Yan Sim OC questions! (by quartztwst!!)

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Yuu Shi does! Her mother, father, twin sister, two brothers, and two other sisters. Oddly enough though, each of them go a different school than she does. She lives pretty far from this school in comparison to the schools her siblings go to.

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

She's honestly a bit puzzled by Quartz. Why kill Azul when you can set up a giant social scandal and revel in the collapse of his carefully built empire that will surely ruin a big part of the rest of his life? Like there are worse things you can do than death but go off ig 🙄 (She relates to hating his ass, but not to the same degree. She's willing to do business with her but otherwise prefers not to think too much about how many possible murderers are at her school.)

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Oh she hates his ass- but more so in a petty way. She was assisting the student council before he even arrived, so they met through that during his freshman year (her sophomore).

She hates the way he speaks down to her- and to most people. The way he puts himself on a pedestal ABOVE her, staring daggers like he knows that she's nothing but some bug under his shoe. She eventually wants to take his position in the student council, literally just out of spite. Just to see the look on his face.

Therefore their interactions usually are akin to banter- banter and arguments. Deals that go back and forth and back and forth and inevitably get nowhere. Rivals.

That being said, over the past two years Azul has had to internally admit that she's far more capable and intelligent than he initially pinned her to be- and the fact that he can't always tell what her intentions are bothers him to no end. A hindrance.

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

Student Council: She is rather uptight around a majority of the student council members with the exception of Kalim(club mate) and Vil(they share makeup and style tips :)). She takes extra care to retain an air of professionalism in this environment- and therefore takes on a very serious, academic persona a majority of the time.

Music Club: Ahh, now this is her home- she's a bit more comfortable being herself here. A smug grin is more likely to slip around the ones she truly considers friends.

Teachers: This is the academic persona cranked up to 10. She's always volunteering for them and giving her best. She feigns respect for their authority and always takes the time to talk with them in as sickeningly sweet of a way she can imagine. Aint she just an angel?

Others:

Jade: She wasn't sure about him at first. Yuu Shi just seemed to assume that he was the same as Azul- and of course, that is correct in some areas, but she failed to account at the time that he's actually hilarious. She finds his odd hobbies very funny- and with his high intelligence, he was able to clock her as a figure to take seriously faster than Azul was. They banter similarly to her and Azul, but it has a lighter vibe of teasing to it. They both entertain each other in different ways- they match each others freak, platonic version.

Vizzie(@twistedwonderlandshenanigans): Ahh, one of her blackmail sources- She gets info from Vizzie in exchange for keys to rooms that offer privacy. This info includes things like meeting spots or objects someone may have, mostly posted on sticky notes outside Yuu's locker. She is a bit uneasy about Vizzie's tendency to psychoanalyze- but nonetheless remains on friendly relations! She often catches herself slipping into a more honest persona with Viz- though holds herself back at times due to her uneasiness. Besides this, they vibe.

Yuya (@cheerleaderman): She is well aware that Yuya is a fellow dealer of sorts in the school- however they both are currently on civil terms! Yuu Shi is always prepared for that to change, but that applies to everyone really. They mind each others business when it comes to, well, business, but in a more normal school setting they usually exchange light teasing and banter.

Shuu (@oya-oya-okay): Yuu isn't too familiar with Shuu, but she knows the basics. She is a very kind figure with many friends around her- able to see the good in people. When talking together, Yuu often reflects off of Shuu, putting up an overly sweet and smiley act. In actuality, she is becoming increasingly frustrated that she hasn't found much of any overly incriminating blackmail-

Ace: One of her few closer, true friends outside of the music club. They banter and tease and prod and poke and prank- all in good fun, of course. However, similarly to her club buddies, her side business is kept quiet. (not exactly outwardly lied about, just... quiet. Remember, you out her, she outs you.)

Deuce: They are friendly, and that is about all it extends to. She has begun tutoring him as a bit of a side project for the student council. Internally she's screaming at him but externally she's trying oh so hard to be patient- she has a soft spot for the effort he puts in, actually. They are gradually getting to know each other more and become better friends primarily through Ace.

and more!! (Feel free to come talk to me about possible interactions with your ocs in this au!! i'll edit this and tag you here)

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Third year. Junior. She is 18 in this AU.

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

fuck bitches get money /j (Gain higher standing)

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

Oh she knows, and she has evidence. Of which has several copies and pictures made of it, and are planned to be conveniently placed all around the school. Sure, it outs her as being a big source of gossip, but hell if she's getting accused of murder.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

uh duh thats a fork found in the kitchen. she doesn't care, thats part of her business- unless, ya know, Quartz betrays her in some way. Also the uniforms should have pockets. sincerely, ms. yuu "im way too into my set fashion to the point that i narrowly dodge a uniform violation slip on the daily and only get away with it due to my good relationship with the teachers" shi.

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

She usually eats lunch with her club buddies- that or in the library, doing some studying. At the end of the day she spends her time in the student council room, though she is known to frequently wander when she's making deliveries for them or her teachers.

10. How are your OC's grades?

She gets very good grades! She dedicates a lot of her time at home to study- and even does it as a hobby occasionally (like a geek but she will deny this /j)

The brain worms got me-

SOOOO this is for @quartztwst's au no yandere sim! I fell in love with the idea and had to throw in an interpretation wooo

Game mechanics wise- i think yuu shi would be the one who helps upgrade certain stats and unlock things to make getting around the school easier. Her reputation itself is odd- often being very well liked by many and very disliked by some as well, all with conflicting statements. She basically controls the gossip world. If you give her blackmail she wants, she's got your back. She believes she's too helpful to be potentially offed- especially since she doesnt get in the way of Quartz or other potential rivals. But it doesnt make her invicible obviously lmao honestly if she was one of the people who was offed first itd be funny- but she wont go down without a fight. Shes a great ally to have but also a horrible enemy if you wrong her and keep her alive. At least she isnt a nark

Tags!

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @cecilebutcher @justm3di0cr3 @kitwasnothere

@techno-danger @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity

@prince-kallisto @beneathsakurashade @qsoap @twsted-canvas @kathxrat-01

@sillyslipperybananapeel @tixdixl @twstinginthewind @jadelover69