#and i’m a firm believer in taking what people say at face value

[feamir]

my best friend got engaged today, and i just want to cry

[razorblade180]

Gods judgment

Furina:*bites cake* Ugh, why must being an Archon be so polarizing at times!? I’m near my wits end.

Ei:While I agree to the sentiment, you’d have much less to complain about if you were diligent in your duties.

Pleasant vibes stop

Venti:Oh boy…

Nahida:What’s happening.

Venti:Shhh, pretend you’re invisible,

Furina:Baal, I am positive you of all people didn’t just talk to me about diligence regarding my responsibilities.

Zhongli:She was merely giving you advice since-

Furina:Oh are we really doing this? Do I need to remind you that if anyone has to the authority to judge the ways of other gods it is I, Focalor. *stands up*

Zhongli:Failure to take criticism will only slow progress.

Furina:Don’t misunderstand my situation. You forget yourself, Morax. Criticism indeed has value, and I’d made certain not even I can go unchecked in my own nation. The problem here is that two of you dare to speak in a tone that implies superiority when all you hold is errors so catastrophic that it’s felt in every wave.

Ei:Are you truly one to talk about errors when your problems arise from negligence?

Furina:Ha! That’s rich coming from the Archon who literally made her problem. You dare speak of negligence when you all but abandoned your people to the whims of an unfeeling stand-in? My people and I face a catastrophe forced upon us while yours endured the weight of your grief. Do not speak to me about negligence.

Ei:…..

Furina:But hey, grief is a toxic and dangerous thing that mortals and the divine understand. I do not judge you for feeling pain. It is far more reasonable flaw than that of the eldest of us. *looks at Morax* You want to discuss slow progress and criticism? It took you ages to get to a mindset Barbatos applied from the start!

Venti:Oh, wow. Zhongli she might actually have a point.

Furina:*points* Don’t get too proud of yourself, Barbatos! You’re next.

Venti:Hehe, I figured….

Zhongli:The circumstances between Liyue’s development and Mondstat’s are vastly different in what problems stood in their wake. Liyue would not have lasted to this day without a firm hand guiding the way. Much like how your nation has greatly benefited from your Chief Justice.

Furina:I do not deny my Iudex has been indispensable in Fontaine’s development. However, once again, you are mistaken about the problem. I have no issue in the role you choose for yourself to craft your land. I think it’s quite magnificent. But a show and by extension, a role is only as good as its ending. The protractor of the land chooses to exit the stage with political and civil unrest due to scheme crafted by his truly. As the God of Contracts, could you not have made one with your people stating a resignation in the coming years. In that time you would sufficiently train them to live without you instead of awakening an old adversary.

Zhongli:Preparations only go so far. A test would have to come eventually to truly put my mind at ease.

Furina:A test that shouldn’t come from your hand and not as severe. Life is the test. Make no mistake, I fully believe you would’ve handled it if your people failed, but do you truly think you would’ve saved them all unscathed. You, who knows the chaos war and battle well? I recognize my bias when I say this but it truly disgusts me to see an Archon through the night of a perilous sea at it’s people just to see if they could retire to sipping tea. To make matters worse, you’re not even consistent.

Zhongli:What are you-

Furina:Did you tell your people about Azdaha? From what I gathered, not only did you handle that actual catastrophe discretely, but in a manor where it could still happen again. You want the best for your people, yet you deny them the opportunity to prepare for the future you yourself could prevent.

Zhongli:….

Furina:Barbatos!

Venti:Ley me guess, I’m too lazy?

Furina:Your nation speaks for itself. Calm, self sufficient, and joyous for extended periods of time. I would never say any of you aren’t attentive to your people.

Ei:This sounds like nothing but praise!

Venti:Maybe I’m just a champion of work life balance?

Furina:You sleep too late.

Venti:….*rubs head* I could see why you might say that.

Furina:So could anyone who knows your nation’s history. It’s never a question of if you show up, but when. Although I love a hero arriving in the nick of time, I’m sure your people would’ve loved to see you before the slavery was institutionalized. Not only that, but it’s your failure to arrive punctually that created a harbinger in the first place.

Venti:No god can be everywhere at once or go indefinitely without rest.

Furina:Correct, but no other god here besides Buer and myself have the means to have a steady pulse the people like you do. You are The God of Anemo. There is no whisper in your land that you can not hear. Frankly I wouldn’t have a reason to judge your methods if you didn’t sleep through the tragedies. I’ll admit, I am a tad envious of your prosperity.

Venti:Hmm, I can’t lie and say I don’t see a little merit in that criticism. Although if you ask me, I don’t it would solve as many problems as you believe. Even so, I can accept that perspective for what it is.

Nahida:(He’s rather accommodating to her outburst. Perhaps he’s trying to diffuse the situation?) Hmm!?

Furina:*staring*….

Nahida:H-Hello.

Furina:You understand I’m not above judging even you, a fellow young Archon? My dear Buer, I suspect you’re aware of your faults; or does your wisdom not extend to introspection?

Nahida:No, it does. *slouches* In a lot of ways, I let my nation unravel because of my own self pity.

Furina:I guess your wisdom is boundless if you can admit to that. Feeling unwanted and trapped, you thought it best to have them walk over you for their own benefit until you finally decided a line was crossed. Your wrongful imprisonment should’ve been that line. Though the irony of your situation is how you were never truly trapped, were you? Arriving in dreams and controlling minds without their knowledge was more than enough power to start a coup. No matter how you look at it Buer, you could have fought back. Instead you acted as powerless as they called you.

Nahida:Sigh… You’re right. That sort of force of authority though really isn’t in my nature.

Furina:You remind me of Neuvillette. So soft by nature. Far too conservative about exercising what is yours by right. That being said, people like you aren’t bad. Anyone could chalk it up to inexperience or a way of belief. In fact, that could be said about all of you.

Ei:If that’s apparent to you then what was the point of this so called “judgement?”

Furina:As I said earlier, I’m not above criticism. I’m not even claiming my way is the most splendid. That being said, do not speak to me as if your methods are correct. Look down on me all you want. I refuse to let anyone judge my methods against the likes of my fellow Archons as if anyone of you or doing this job “correctly.” Especially when one of the seven thrives in dangerous tension and another has the audacity to send her people to overthrow our nations. For as long as I reign, I, Focalor, will hold one thing as an absolute truth. I am not lesser than any other ruler. I rest my case.

Nahida:I thinks you’re doing your best.

Furina:….*wipes face* Thank you.

Zhongli and Ei: (So high strung) *pats her head*

Furina:Excuse me!? I -I don’t need to be coddled!

Venti:*plays calming music*

Furina:Sigh… *accepts comfort.

[thesubswhisper]

You’ve Set Your Boundaries—Now, Can You Defend Them?

I’m so proud of everyone who’s been vocal about setting their boundaries. It’s empowering to see you define what you’re comfortable with, what you’ll tolerate, and what you won’t. But here’s the real question: now that you’ve set those boundaries, how will you defend them when they’re crossed?

Boundaries are non-negotiable, but that doesn’t mean people won’t try to test them. It could be anyone—your parents, your siblings, your friends, or even a romantic partner. Learning to stand firm and enforce those boundaries is essential because you are the most important person in your story.

Let me share an experience of mine to illustrate this.

When a Friendly Meet-Up Becomes a Lesson in Boundaries

It was a casual meet-up with someone I’d been talking to. But regardless of whether it was a date or just a friendly outing, I have certain expectations for how people treat me.

I am a very simple person, but I am also very specific. I know what I like, and I know what I want. I carry myself with grace, and I expect the same respect and courtesy in return. What I didn’t expect was for this outing to become an exercise in defending my boundaries.

The meet-up started with plans for a museum visit followed by lunch—light and casual. In the beginning, this man’s sassiness and wit were charming. I enjoy playful banter; it’s fun and refreshing. But as the day unfolded, his behavior began to shift.

While heading to lunch, I suggested we take one car for convenience. When I offered to ride with him, his response was dismissive: “You don’t want to drive or do anything, huh?” I brushed it off as banter, though the tone felt off.

When we reached his truck, I asked him to help me up. He flatly refused. Twice. I felt this was the bare minimum—a small, gentlemanly act that any man should be happy to do. Still, I climbed in by myself and asked if he could close the door for me. Again, he refused.

At that point, I started feeling uncomfortable. Was this his way of asserting dominance? Of proving that he wouldn’t “be bossed around”? It didn’t sit well with me, but I stayed calm and tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Things escalated further at lunch. When I misunderstood something he said, his response was, “Are you retarded?” That word hit me like a slap in the face. I find it vulgar and offensive, and I made it clear that I expected an apology. He refused, just as he had refused the other small courtesies earlier.

From that point on, the outing was stiff and awkward. Whatever charm he had on the phone had completely evaporated. His hot-and-cold attitude was exhausting.

The final straw came at the end of the meet-up when he walked away, saying, “You like tense moments, don’t you?” I was left dumbfounded. I value calm, steady energy. I appreciate a partner who knows how to balance wild and composed moments, depending on the time and place. His remark felt like a cheap jab at my character, and I was done.

Lessons Learned

This experience taught me a valuable lesson about boundaries. I knew early on that this man wasn’t aligned with my values, yet I chose to move forward, ignoring the red flags. That’s on me.

In the BDSM and fetish community, where I hold a dominant title, I’ve learned to be careful about who I share this side of myself with. This man took that piece of information and ran with his own misconceptions, seeing me as someone who wanted to dominate or control him in every aspect of life.

Looking back, I regret sharing that detail so soon. But at the same time, I believe in being honest about who I am. My kink side is an important part of my life, and any potential partner needs to accept it. However, this man failed to see me as a whole person—an herbalist, a working mother, and someone deserving of respect.

Setting boundaries isn’t enough. You have to uphold them, even in the face of discomfort or pushback. Your boundaries are a reflection of your self-worth. They teach others how to treat you and ensure that you’re surrounding yourself with people who truly value and respect you.

So, to all my readers: now that you’ve set your boundaries, how will you defend them?

[teamplasmaofficial]

Hello. I would like to preface this by saying that I follow your work consistently, and I am a firm believer in Team Plasma's ideology. Now, my question is perhaps a bit personal, and if you do not wish do answer I will be disappointed, but I will understand. How did your family react after you were injured? I know you are of royal blood, so I am curious as to how they would react. Thank you very much for your time, I sincerely apologize if this caused any inconvenience.

Firstly, thank you for your support. It is brave of you to state your views on pokémon liberation, even anonymously. People worldwide seem to adopt a shockingly violent approach to those who value pokémon’s rights such as Team Plasma.

It is true that my family is descended from Galarian Royalty, though I’m one of few which choose to take pride in my ancestry. My siblings are childless, and my parents passed a long time ago, so extended family is not something i’m abundant with. Although, when i did abstain my… injury. I was very young. I am slightly confused as to what you mean by your question. I was cared for as any child would be.

You are correct in thinking your question is highly personal, but I have nothing to hide from my devoted followers. I appreciate you immensely, along with all others who see the truth of the exploitation of pokémon.

OOC:

this man is a liarrrrr his ass did NOT get cared for after he got out of hospital. i talked about it in a different post that i’ll link here (when I find it good god), but my ghetsis got his face injury from his deino, trying to wrestle it off his brother. Cause it yaknow, killed his brother. His dad was absent and his mum didn’t really like him to begin with and since his less than satisfactory pokémon training lead to his brothers death, he was disowned as hell. Also he was like 25 or something idk i haven’t got the lore down in stone as of yet.

He was taken care of in hospital for way longer than the average person would be, since he didn’t have any friends really. He studied with Colress in Kalos but didn’t contact him out of a fear of being perceived as weak. he got his money from his fathers will, but was written out of his mothers.

Also the deino who killed his brother? he kept it! he saw the power it held in its anger, and was determined to learn to harness it. 5 decades later, boom. Hydreigon.

[samaraxmorgan]

Hello it is me, the Yap Anon but in my true form, before I yapped again I drew some eyes and i wanted to share them because I think the colors are cool.

NOW TIME TO YAP, OK SO I KNOW I KEEP GIVING YOU LIKE SUGGESTIVE-ISH IDEAS SO YOU GET AN ANGSTY ONE, SO WHAT IF HEAR ME OUT HERE, WE COME HOME FROM A LONG DAY AT WORK TO FIND SUKUNA OPENING THE DOOR AND WE LOOK AT EACH OTHER BEFORE SUKUNA SAYS 'Where the hell have you been?!' WHICH SHOCKS US BEFORE WE REPLY SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF 'Work' AND SUKUNA MUMBLES SOMETHING UNDER HIS BREATH ABOUT OUR JOB WORKING US TO DEATH AND HE TAKES OUR HAND (How scandalous) AND BRINGS US INSIDE SETTING US ON THE COUCH BEFORE SCOLDING US FOR NOT TEXTING HIM WHERE WE WERE AND WE RESPOND WITH SOMETHING LIKE 'Why would you care' OR 'it's not like you'd notice or care' WHICH MAKES SUKUNA MAD SO HE GRABS OUR FACE AND MAKES US LOOK INTO HIS EYES WHILE HE SAYS 'I do care, no matter how much it seems I don't I care, please, don't worry me like that again' AND WE'RE JUST SPEECHLESS BECAUSE WTF SUKUNA CARES ABOUT US AND WE GAWK AT HIM BEFORE COMPOSING OURSELVES AND HUG, PLUS SNUGGLING AS A TREAT BECAUSE :3

IM SORRY I KNOW THIS IS STRUNG TOGETHER HORRIBLLY BUT I THINK IT'S SUCH A FUN IDEA FOR SOME SILLY ANGST, I'M SORRY IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT.

REMEMBER HAVE AN AMAZING DAY/NIGHT :DDDD

HELLO BABE GOOD TO SEE U AGAINNNNN!!! True form I LOVE THAT FOR YOUUUU <3 and I loveeeee the drawings they look SO COOL!! The colors are so nice I love it!!

AAAAAA HIM BEING SO LOWKEY POSSESSIVEEEEE!!!!! SOOOO I have a very similar thing coming in a part soon!!!! We’re out in the city with him and we lose our phone and he spends HOURS trying to find us hehehehe :) he’s so MAD when he finally tracks us down but it’s just because he was worried fucking sickkkkkk

Ugh the idea of him shit talking our job I love it askalakk <3 I used to work at a place that treated me like SHIT and I knowwww he would fucking storm in there and curse my old boss out!!! King!!! And also I bet he HATES us having to stay late and work overtime because he’s always secretly staying up waiting for us to get home, both bc he wants to spend more time with us but also because he wants to make sure we’re safe!! I bet after something like this he would ~casually~ suggest downloading Life 360 ASKAKKAKS

God I know he was pacing around the apartment constantly checking the time watching as we were supposed to be home at one time but then an hour goes by, and another, and ANOTHER and he’s losing his MIND thinking something happened to us. I’m not gonna get too into it bc I don’t wanna spoil BUT I have his backstory planned out and let’s just say… he’s not exactly accustomed to regular every day jobs and he’s also VERY afraid of losing the people he cares about. So the first time we stay late at work he’s in a full PANIC

He doesn’t mean to lash out, but he tends to show fear through anger. We think he’s being over dramatic, unreasonable, but he’s got past trauma that we’re not aware of; and believe me he IS relieved that we’re okay, but his emotions are running HIGH and he’s having a hard time keeping them contained.

And when we ask him why he would care he’s stunned into silence. His mind is running, because how could we POSSIBLY think he doesn’t care? How bad has he been with showing us how important we are to him? Do we really think he doesn’t value us? He’s always been a firm believer that actions speak louder than words, but for once he realizes that he’s gonna need to communicate verbally, as much as it kills him to do so.

He’s not exactly graceful with his words, but we can tell that he’s TRYING. His hands cupping our cheeks to keep our gaze locked on his and the look in his eyes is so serious, so genuine. He DOES worry about us, he DOES care for us, and he tries so hard to hide it because he hates being vulnerable, but for us it’s worth it <3 We give him a hug and he squeezes us a little too tight that it hurts, he waits a little too long to let go, his fingers linger a little too much on our skin, and the look he gives us is a little too close to lovestruck, but how could we be sure?

And I got a LITTLE TOO carried away ASSKAKAK ANYWAYYYY!!!! If u couldn’t tell I LOVED this idea hehe

I hope you have a wonderful day :) !!!!

[houseofbrat]

FROM 11 MONTHS AGO:

My friend works in PR in L.A. and while he hasn't said anything about potential Netflix/Spotify litigation, the rest tracks with what he's said. No one wants to work with them, they've burned every bridge either by running their mouths (true A-Listers value privacy, not Oprah tell alls), or by making "ridiculous demands and forgetting where she came from".  There's also something going on with her getting stylist/designer/retailer freebies. It sounds like they've been iced out of receiving those, too.

[AND]

My source is a film producer. It annoys the fuck out of him when I ask him for dirt because he says she's "a non-entity and a fucking literally-screaming-at-the-moon lunatic," but lately he's been texting me dirt without even being asked. I think it's all coming faster and more furiously these days.

I too have heard that she is struggling to find brands who will even let her merch their designs now, so that's another one of her final fallback cashcows that have dried up and it is making her even more desperate than usual. She apparently still takes no responsibility and is impervious to the idea that she is not A-list (in fact, she acts like she is better than A-list), and she is reportedly conpletely bewildered about why she is so unpopular with us plebes. Also my source was in fact being literal when he said she is a screaming-at-the-moon lunatic. Apparently (and allegedly) she was picked up off the street in the middle of a raging temper tantrum by either the police or her security detail. I'm not clear on whether that happened since they've been in the Montecito house or a while ago, so take that (and all) info with that in mind. In fact, there's confusion about whether or not either of them are even in that house any more, so... nothing is straightforward with this woman. I jokingly told my source to drive by the property and check it out, and he said, "Coke... I actually do have boundaries. Plus it would take a fucking hour and a half to drive up to Montecito and trust me, she's not worth it."

Yes!  This all tracks with my friend in PR. He was also disinterested as first, now he offers things. A couple months ago he said, "did you know she screams at people? Insert my name, she literally screams at people". He seemed shocked, and he's been there for 20 yrs, used to work for Disney, prior to that a firm with several old school A-listers who I always assumed were incredibly high maintaince, so this must've been bad for it to shock him.

[AND]

Yep! Same here with the increasing messages and increased interest. He admitted to understanding now why I've been so fascinated with this. She apparently makes your standard A-list Diva look like Shirley Temple. Ask your PR friend if he has heard anything about her being actually physically violent. Someone told my source that they heard that Harry has been seen with scratches and bruises. On. His. Face. ALLEGEDLY. Now that is at least three levels of hearsay, but given what we've heard about her behavior in Australia and over the Givenchy dress fittings, etc. I'm inclined to believe it. To me it seems like the puzzle pieces are coming together, and they are all showing the same picture.

[rainbow-starheart]

Letter/Speech to Proshippers:

Dear Proshippers,

I want to begin by saying that as an anti I will never understand or align myself with your perspective when it comes to shipping minor x adult or other forms of inappropriate content. My beliefs are firm in this area, and I cannot support or condone those actions. I still stand against the idea that such content should be normalized, as I believe it can cause harm and send dangerous messages, even if unintentionally.

However, I also recognize that continuing this conflict, this endless back-and-forth, will only lead to more harm for everyone involved. As much as I disagree with the choices that some of you make, I acknowledge that these are your choices. You have the right to engage with your content as you see fit, just as I have the right to stand against it.

But let me be clear: while you may continue to deny it, fiction always has an effect on reality. Whether we want to admit it or not, the things we create, share, and consume shape the way we view the world. And when it comes to shipping minors with adults or other forms of content that involve harmful or abusive themes, there are consequences—both intended and unintended. The creative freedom that you may defend can sometimes open the door for dangerous people to justify real-world harm. I’m not accusing anyone directly, but I am urging you to be mindful of the impact your creations may have on others, especially vulnerable individuals.

That being said, I also respect your right to make your own choices. If this is truly what you want, if this is what you believe in, then it is yours to own. I will no longer interfere in the same aggressive way that I once did. I realize that this constant conflict is draining and does nothing but create further division. We may not agree, but I will respect your right to live your life as you choose.

However, I want to warn you: you must be careful. If you continue down this path, there are consequences that may come when others challenge your beliefs or when the wider community reacts. You may not see it now, but the impact can ripple out in ways you may not have intended, especially as society grows more aware of the harm certain actions can cause.

To those of you who disagree with me—who don’t share my values—please, I ask that you respect my stance as I respect yours. I will not tolerate accusations of grooming or malicious intent simply because we do not share the same views on fiction or shipping. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but it’s important that we do not escalate things into unnecessary conflict.

I know that our disagreement may never be fully resolved, and I accept that. You have your life, your choices, and your beliefs, and I have mine. But I ask that you remain cautious in how you navigate this space. Please consider the long-term effects of your choices on those around you. It is your life to lead, and ultimately, it is your fate to face when the time comes. But just as I stand by my values, I ask that you take responsibility for the consequences of your actions.

Let us end this battle here. Let us live our lives in peace, respecting each other's boundaries, and allowing each person to choose their own path.

Thank you for understanding.

[olko71]

New Post has been published on All about business online

New Post has been published on https://yaroreviews.info/2023/11/ai-boss-sam-altman-ousted-after-board-loses-confidence

AI boss Sam Altman ousted after board loses confidence

EPA

By Zoe Kleinman

Technology reporter

Sam Altman has been ousted as the head of artificial intelligence firm OpenAI by the company’s board, which said it had lost confidence in his ability to lead the company.

The board said Mr Altman had not been “consistently candid with his communications”, hindering its ability to exercise its responsibilities.

The 38-year-old helped launch OpenAI, which is behind the ChatGPT bot.

Mr Altman had become one of the most high-profile figures in the industry.

In a statement the board said it was grateful for Mr Altman’s contributions but that members believed new leadership was necessary.

“The board no longer has confidence in his ability to continue leading OpenAI,” the company said, citing “a deliberative review process by the board, which concluded that he was not consistently candid in his communications with the board, hindering its ability to exercise its responsibilities”.

It is not clear what he is alleged to not have been candid about.

On social media, Mr Altman wrote that he had loved his time at the company.

“It was transformative for me personally, and hopefully the world a little bit. Most of all I loved working with such talented people,” he wrote.

Analysis: The extraordinary firing of an AI superstar

What is AI, how does it work and what can it be used for?

According to OpenAI co-founder Greg Brockman, it all took place over hastily-organised Google Meet video conference calls.

Mr Brockman – who was himself dismissed from the board a few minutes later and then resigned from the company – said both men were “shocked and saddened” by the news.

He said they were “still trying to figure out exactly what happened” but claimed in a post on X, formerly known as Twitter, that the whole drama unfolded in a matter of hours.

They sat on the company’s relatively small board of just six executives. It is unusual for such a tight team to take such a dramatic decision so quickly, which begs the question: was it personal?

OpenAI is widely seen to be a company at its peak, with lucrative investment pouring in, and ChatGPT – which was launched almost exactly one year ago – is used by millions.

Mr Altman has been the face of the firm’s rise. More than that, he is seen by many as the face of the industry more widely.

He testified before a US Congress hearing to discuss the opportunities and risks created by the new technology, and also at the world’s first AI Safety Summit, held in the UK at the beginning of November.

Reuters

The outpouring of support from Silicon Valley bosses shows that he enjoyed the support of the tech industry.

On social media, former Google boss Eric Schmidt called Mr Altman “a hero of mine” and said that he had “changed our collective world forever”.

“I can’t wait to see what he does next. I, and billions of people, will benefit from his future work- it’s going to be simply incredible,” he wrote.

There will be a lot of interest in whatever that next move is – and many will be waiting to see if Mr Altman is angry enough to talk about being dumped by the company he helped create.

He has promised he will have “more to say about what’s next later”.

But it doesn’t appear he’s poised to lift the lid on his departure just yet, even writing on X to advise OpenAI’s remaining board members to “go after me for the full value of my shares” if he gets into a public row with them.

ChatGPT can now access up to date information

Mr Brockman announced he had quit his role at the company following Mr Altman’s ousting.

In a statement posted X, Mr Brockman said: “I’m super proud of what we’ve all built together since starting in my apartment eight years ago.

“We’ve been through tough and great times together, accomplishing so much despite all the reasons it should have been impossible. But based on today’s news, I quit.”

He said he would continue to “believe in the mission of creating safe AGI that benefits all of humanity”.

OpenAI started in 2015 as a non-profit. It restructured in 2019 and is now backed by Microsoft, which has invested billions.

Just weeks ago, OpenAI was reportedly in talks to sell shares in the company to investors at a price that would value it at more than $80bn (£64bn).

The company said its board members -who include an OpenAI chief scientist, the head of popular question and answer app Quora, and an AI researcher affiliated with Georgetown University – did not have shares in the firm and that their fundamental governance responsibility was to “advance OpenAI’s mission and preserve the principles of its Charter”.

The company said chief technology officer, Mira Murati, would take over as interim chief, effective immediately, while the board searches for a permanent replacement.

ChatGPT is known for its ability to respond to prompts from users with human-like text, images and videos.

Hundreds of millions of people have tried it out, and many are now regularly using it to help them do their jobs and study – to consternation in some cases, like teachers facing essays written by the bot and people worried for their jobs.

The company has also faced legal action from writers who say the bot developed its abilities by harvesting their work, in violation of copyright law.

Billionaire Elon Musk, who with Mr Altman was one of the founding co-chairs of OpenAI, has also criticised it for straying from its non-profit roots.

Related Topics

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[tiredneutron]

Honestly mood on that first answer, I have a pretty severe “resting tired face” XD

The three most valuable qualities I would look for in my “dream partner” would probably be:

1) A shared faith to myself. I believe that partners can have differing beliefs and respect each others opinions, but I think faith specifically is one that should be a shared belief. There’s a lot of guiding principles and other things that faith affects in the way we live and I think that having a partner who doesn’t share those is something that can easily create issues in a relationship. It’s also something that’s addressed within my faith as something that is not encouraged for the above reasons, so this is also me adhering to that

2) being a friend. I think that the strongest romantic relationships I’ve seen were started as fierce friendships, and so I think being able to count your partner as a close friend is important. Having that connection prior to the relationship is something I think is a huge benefit because it establishes things that make a really strong foundation to build on.

3) I think of this one as sensibility? As much as spontaneity and recklessness can be fun, I think having a partner who addresses the realities of life and works with you to meet and exceed those is critical. Being able to create a firm footing for ourselves as a couple both financially, socially, etc. can allow for spontaneity without it being a detriment. Life has demands unfortunately but being able to work as a team and make a plan is a characteristic of a long lasting relationship

Whoo boy that one was a doozy, great question! Though there you go again with the three-in-one ask XD I’ll have to try returning the favour

My birth month is November, which I’m comfortable enough sharing. Though if you start asking for thinks like “my mothers maiden name” or “the name of the primary school I attended” I may take issue with it XD

I’m not sure if you mean my monetarily most valuable possession or my most sentimentally valuable possession? I’ll just go with the vibe of the question I guess

The thing I personally value the most would be one of a few things I guess? I’d have to say either the bass guitar my family got me last month as a birthday gift, or the leather jacket my Dad gave me that was his when he was my age, at least at the time he gave it to me. There’s other things I could list but those are what come to mind immediately ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What’s something you don’t often tell people?

What are three songs you’d recommend for me to listen to?

Has there been a poem/phrase that’s stuck with you since you heard it? For example I have two of Robert Frosts poems that I’ll not forget - “The road not taken” and “Dust of snow”

Also bonus question because I’m curious - what name do you think of me as? Do you think of my whole handle “tiredneutron” or have you adapted some other nickname since we started talking? I shorten yours to just “music” most of the time :)

@musicandbooksaremyhappyplace

Absolutely we can start a new threat, that last one was getting a bit unmanageable XD Picture at the top is mostly for my benefit…

My biggest accomplishment? That’s… a lot to think about? I dunno it’s either the fact that I finished high school with an actually good grade or the fact that I’ve pretty much finished my uni without failing any units. I think my sense of accomplishment is very education/progress centred so it’s not as easy to think of stuff outside that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I mean I know it’s probably cliche but honestly I don’t think I go many days without music. It’s honestly such a constant for me because it helps me focus when I need to work and it also helps me keep my auditory sensitivity in check. On top of that music is one of the easiest ways for me to actually feel my emotions because I’ve a bad habit of both only thinking about them and bottling them up. That’s not to mention the fact that I enjoy playing music a ton, so… yeah it’d have to be that for me

I’d love to see that one moment where Greek philosophers were debating how to categorise man and one suggested “featherless biped” so Diogenes ran in the room holding a plucked chicken saying “BEHOLD! A Man” because I honestly think their reactions would have been Hilarious

What’s your go to fast food place? If you don’t get fast food often then takeaway meals or something like that works too

Have you ever broken any bones? Is there a story behind it? (Again skip if not comfortable with this)

What is an activity in your city/area that you love going to? (Cinema, paintball, escape room, etc)

@musicandbooksaremyhappyplace

[billfarrah]

People really don’t get Simon’s character imo. He has a lot of integrity and a really firm moral compass, for better or for worse, sometimes he can be self-righteous, that’s part of his character and imo, part of the reason Wille was attracted to him in the first place. It’s sad people can’t appreciate it like Wille does. I know people love the sacrifice everything for love type of characters but it’s just not realistic sometimes.

I agree. Simon is such a beautiful and nuanced character, but there are a lot of viewers who just take things at face value and don’t really try to dig deeper. Simon is not very verbally expressive and sometimes he can get defensive and say the opposite of how he truly feels, but any ounce of critical thinking makes it clear what he actually feels.

I also think the ending does a beautiful job showing that while sometimes we may be willing to sacrifice something for love, it doesn’t mean it’s the right decision. Wille was willing to give up the crown for Simon and give it to August, but was that the right decision? No, especially because of the type of person that August is. Simon was willing to be a secret for two years, but was that the right decision? Maybe it would’ve been worth it in the end, but should Simon have to let go of his principles? Wille certainly didn’t believe so.

That’s what’s so great about the ending - Wille said no, fuck that, I’m not gonna let you be a secret, AND I’m not letting August take over. Their relationship can work - they just need to break a few traditions and protocol for it to happen.

[helpforihavefallen]

Do you have any Jesse headcanons?

Jesse makes me feel something and i’m not completely comfortable with this fact. Help i’m falling.

------

- Jesse is the middle child. Enough said about that.

- Growing up he didn’t get much attention from his parents unless of course he fucked up somehow. They were quite traditional family and his dad wanted him to play sports. But he was talented in different things like music and arts.

- It did affect their relationship a lot, they fought and his dad had a daily basis to call him a disappointment or compare him to his big brother who was athletic superstar to them.

- After he moved away from home for the art school their relationship did get better. They’re still distant but his parents came to watch one of their first concerts to show their support to him.

- Yes there were a lot of crying and hugging afterwards.

- Now away from the feels- this man cannot function without coffee.

- It has become so bad that even T is worried that Jesse might actually be more coffee than a person nowadays.

- He practices poses infront of a mirror on a daily basis, also flirts with himself. Robaire caught him once doing this and Jesse paid him 50 big ones to keep him quiet.

- The king of self-love, some people could find it a bit narcissistic when he’s boasting about himself but damn he’s just proud how far he has come. 

- Firm believer in inner beauty.

- Jesse has a resting smug face. Or more commonly known as shit eating grin

- He cannot stand sticky food.

- On the other hand he has a serious sweet tooth and you are most likely gonna find him snacking around the studio.

- Jesse is actually surprisingly competitive. He does not like to be bested and will go just about any lenght to come out on top. He would be willing to go through some humiliating just to win.

- But he is warmhearted and caring individual. He’s a good listener and you can tell him anything without fear of mockery.

- Also quite laid-back and he rarely gets mad at people or raises his voice.

- Does not like working out. Aaron Z always tries to get him to workout with him, but Jesse is a good liar and excellent at making excuses. Sometimes his excuses does get a bit...rushed. “I’ll tell you why i can’t work out right after...i run away really quick.”

- Jesse copes with bad days by rewatching studio ghibli movies. He first got introduced to them by Taeyoung (they’re his favorites fight me) and now Jesse watches them religiously with the youngest member. It always makes him feel better no matter what.

- He’s the type to deal with his problems alone. He doesn’t like to feel like he’s bothering people with his worries and feelings so he usually shuts down whenever something is troubling him. Yes this way of acting comes directly from his childhood.

- He has the worst case of bed hair. It will stick in every possible direction imaginable to a man. 

- It takes a whole hour as he fights to get his hair the way he wants it to look.

- Jesse values his alone time a lot. Even when the band is on a tour, he’ll go in the back of the tour bus with his trusty pillow and just flops down reading or sketching. He’ll also bring his headphones with him and refuses to remove them from his head.

- He makes A LOT of mixtapes to every occasion. And i mean every occasion. It has become one of his hobbies at this point and he’s always giving them to the guys. They’re always full of their favorite songs and songs Jesse thinks that they might like.

- He gets cold ALL THE TIME. He has no idea why but this is the reason why he’s the worlds biggest snuggler. Professional snuggler as he says. So naturally he’s not too keen on winters.

- Not the bravest let’s be honest. He got jumpscared by a toaster once.And what makes it worse is that Jesse cries very easily when he’s scared.

- He tends to forget the world around him whenever he’s working on his art, which makes him vulnerable for Aaron T and his antics. Not only has he scared Jesse multiple times to the point where the oldest one was prepared to bury him 6 feet under but also to the point where the clay he has been working on has been sent flying to the nearest window, breaking it.

- Falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. Even in mid sentence. If he’s going to sleep he’ll be lights out in a matter of seconds. It’s a blessing and a curse.

- He lets Taeyoung paint his nails a lot, he would never admit it but he thinks they look so cool. And it gives him more time to spend time with Taeyoung in general.

- That being said he has a soft spot for the youngest. 

- Jesse and Robaire definitely has weird inside jokes nobody else gets and they don’t even question it anymore. 

- (I’m staying away from the kid headcanons)

- But how funny it’d be if the kids were actually just two big dogs like great danes and he just talks about them like they were his children.

- T and Robaire would probably offer to babysit them not knowing the fact that they are dogs and when they see them they’re like “????They’re dogs?”

- “Of course they’re dogs what else would they be?”

- All i’m gonna say is that the kids are definitely twins.

[mandos-sluts]

The Apology

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dubious consent, degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, alcohol consumption

Summary: You cause Mando’s negotiation to break down seek a way to make it up to him

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!!

You and Mando have been working as partner bounty hunters for about six months. The two of you just apprehended and turned in a bounty that was incredibly difficult to catch. But Mando was especially driven to catch her not because the price on her head was super high (though it was), but because there was a possibility the two of you would be able to collect the payout in beskar. The agency that put the bounty on her has a considerable reserve of beskar, and Mando has heard that they have paid out in beskar before.

The two of you arrive at the cantina where you’ve arranged to meet with a representative from the firm to negotiate your payment. You are exhausted and extra irritable— that bounty put up a grueling fight. You and Mando slide into a booth as a waiter approaches your table.

“Your strongest spotchka please.” You tell the waiter.

Mando turns his head and looks at you. “Y/n.” He says in a low, warning tone.

“What, Mando? We just turned in a bounty which we spent over a week hunting. I’m allowed to have a drink.”

The waiter returns with your drink and it’s gone within the minute. You set your empty glass on the table as a frail middle-aged man walks up to your booth.

Mando rises eagerly to his feet. “Hello sir, thank you for coming.” He says, shaking his hand. You don’t bother to stand, instead offering him a silent smile. You and Mando are partners, but this whole beskar exchange is his forte, and you’re fine with letting him take the lead.

“I understand that you would like to negotiate for your payment to be in beskar.” The man says sitting across from you and Mando.

“That’s correct sir. Thank you for meeting with us.” Mando returns. You’ve never seen him be so polite and formal with someone before.

“My consortium pays out in beskar very rarely. And that is typically only when the value of the Imperial Credit or the Calamari Flan are especially volatile. But both currencies are stable right now, why should we pay you with our limited beskar reserves?”

Mando begins his argument. *see gif* You pretty much zone out, slouched beside him. You know he’s saying something about how beskar is sacred to Mandalorians and how the amount you’re willing to accept in beskar is much less than they would pay you guys in a different form.

“Well, we would like to be in good standing with you.” You hear the man say as you zone back in. “And you must be one hell of a bounty hunter if you’re able to afford escorts as young and pretty as her.” The man says pointing at you. “Maybe I'll use the credits we don’t pay you to pick one of them young things up for myself.”

You lift your head and sit up straight. Being a woman bounty hunter, you get sexist comments like this all of the time. You usually ignore them, especially in high-pressure situations like this. However, you downed that spotchka you ordered and the alcohol is overriding the voice in your head that tells you to keep your mouth shut.

“I’m not a sex worker, I’m his hunting partner.” You assert, completely unamused.

“Hahahaha oh that’s cute. Sure you are, sweetheart.” The man cackles.

“And ya know….you probably wouldn’t need to pay women to be around you if you weren’t such a creepy pervert.” You say harshly.

Instant regret.

The tone in the booth immediately shifts. Shock and offense cover the man’s face.

“...Excuse me?” He says slowly rising from his seat with his palms on the table.

Mando quickly stands. “Sir, I’m sorry, she didn’t mean that. Please we–”

“Who the hell do you think you are?! You come in here asking for a favor and then disrespect me!?” The man yells down at you. “Here!” He tosses a bag of coins on the table. “Enjoy your Imperial credits!” He spits before turning and storming away.

“Wait sir, the beskar–” Mando pleads, but the man is already out the door.

You feel the guilt rise in your stomach. “Fuck! Mando I’m so sor–”

“Shut up. Let’s go.”

“Mando wait let me go talk to hi–”

“Let’s go!” He barks at you, making you jump.

You spend the walk back to the Crest profusely apologizing to Mando. He stays silent and doesn’t even acknowledge you. He’s walking so fast you’re running to keep up with him.

You desperately seek a response from him, but Mando enters the ship without saying a word. He makes his way up the ladder and you follow.

“Mando! I fucked up, I’m really sorry I shouldn’t have said anything. I know how important recovering beskar is to you, and I’m so sorry. I was drunk and….and I’m so so sorry!” You plead as your eyes fill with tears.

“Mando.” You beg, voice cracking as tears begin rolling down your face, “Please, please say something.” You cry as you pull on his arm. He yanks away from you and walks silently into the cockpit.

Mando has been livid with you before. You guys have engaged in plenty of screaming matches throughout your six months working together. They typically stem from you doing things he doesn’t think are safe, or the two of you disagreeing on what strategy you should employ to catch a bounty. But you’ve never seen him like this before. He’s more upset than angry; he’s disappointed. So much so that he doesn’t even want to yell at you. This is his creed, his religion, his people’s stolen commodity, and you just fucked up a chance for him to get some of it back.

Mando sits down in the pilot’s chair. You’re standing in the door to the cockpit behind him.

You take a deep breath. Your eyes are glossy and streaks of tears stain your cheeks. “Is–is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Mando spins around in his chair so that he is facing you. “Yeah.” He says shortly.

Your eyes widened. “W-what is it?”

“Get on your knees.” Mando says in a low, rough voice.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get on your knees.”

Your knees shake as you slowly lower yourself to the floor. You sit on your knees and stare up at Mando with wide eyes and a confused desperate look.

“Take your hair down and take your dress off.” He commands flatly.

“Um, wh–”

“Are you gonna make me tell you again?” He interrupts you.

You pull your hair tie out of your hair, letting it fall down past your shoulders. You look up at Mando sitting in the chair, and see that he’s rubbing an unmistakable bulge over his pants.

Arousal shoots through your core and you can feel your panties become damp. He takes off his gloves and drops them to the floor. You begin slowly unbuttoning your dress, and Mando unbuttons his pants, removing his hard thick cock as he stares at you. He starts slowly stroking his length with his hand, sitting there, unapologetically watching you undress on your knees in front of him.

You can’t believe what’s happening. You’ve fantasized about Mando almost every night since you became a team, but you never envisioned something like this.

You pull your dress over your head and set it down on the cold metal floor next to you. You weren’t wearing a bra, so you’re completely naked except for a thong. Mando stands up and starts slowly creeping toward you, his cock in hand. Your head tilts higher and higher as he nears you with your gaze on his visor.

He stops when he’s standing directly above you, pumping his cock just inches away from your face which is still fresh with tears.

“M-Mando, I–”

“Shut up.” He snaps, grabbing your chin with his other hand. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “I only want your mouth open if my cock is in it.” He pulls your face toward his member and you instinctively part your lips as Mando pushes it into your mouth.

You’re in shock by what’s happening, but you manage to gather your composure and you begin sucking his dick. In any other situation, you would tease him by licking his length or starting only with the tip, but you figure it’s best to jump right in.

“Fuck.” Mando says under his breath, surprised at how readily you started bobbing your head.

You take a deep breath through your nose and move one of your hands to his thigh to steady yourself and the other to the bottom of his shaft and move it up and down along with your head.

Mando’s breathing picks up. “You’re such a fuckin brat.” He spits, weaving his hand into your hair on the back of your head.

You swirl your tongue around his tip and begin to take more of his length. “F-fuck your mouth feels so good.” Mando breaths out.

You let out a whimper and look up into his visor. His words encourage you to bob your head faster.

“Shit, y/n. You’re sucking my cock better than I thought you could. You do this a lot before, little slut?”

You feel arousal shoot to your pussy at the vulgar things that he— your hunting partner, your colleague— is saying to you. You can feel that your panties are soaked.

Mando’s grip on your hair tightens and he begins thrusting his hips. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about shoving you to your knees and forcing my cock into that annoying mouth of yours?”

Breathing through your nose, you try your best not to gag as you let him take control. You want to show Mando how good you are at this— how much you can satisfy him.You bring your hand up and start kneading his balls, and Mando grunts. He can’t believe how submissive you’re being.

“Pfft, you’re a– a desperate little whore, letting– letting me fuck this delicate little throat of yours.” Mando says between thrusts. “You know you could tell me to stop, but you like this don’t you? You like being treated like a slut.”

You let out a pathetic whimper, signalling how right he was. You love that Mando is using you and fucking out his frustrations on you.

“Bet your panties are soaking wet.” Mando says. He takes his cock out of your mouth and grabs your upper arms. “In fact, let's see.” He says as he pulls you up off your feet. Mando sits down in the pilot’s chair and throws you over his lap.

Your head is near the ground and your ass is perched up on his lap. Mando spreads your ass cheeks apart and peers down at the drenched thin fabric covering your pussy. He grabs the top of your thong and wraps it around his hand. He pulls it up, making the fabric pull against your clit. You let out a yelp but he doesn’t relent, pulling it so hard until it snaps. He tosses the stretched broken panties to the ground and gazes down at your glistening, soaking wet cunt.

“Ha. I knew it. Fuck. Look at this desperate pussy.” Mando runs his middle finger through your folds. “Poor little girl. That why you’re being such a brat? Huh? You needed someone to fill your neglected little hole?”

Without warning, Mando plunges his middle finger into your hole and starts pumping it fast. Your mouth opens and whines begin to fall from your lips. Mando’s other hand slaps your ass. And you scream out. He spanks you a few more times, each harder than the one before.

The sounds of your whimpers, the sounds of his hand striking your soft skin, and the sounds of your obscenely wet pussy gushing as his fingers pump it fill the otherwise silent cockpit.

“Fuck your pussy is tight, y/n.” Mando spits. “You did such a good job with my cock in your mouth, let’s see how your pussy takes it.” He says flipping you around so that you are straddling him.

“Mando, I-I don’t know if it’s gonna fit!” You cry as you bring your hand down to cover your hole.

“I’m gonna make it fit.” Mando growls back, shoving your hand away and lining his member up with your entrance. But then, noticing the genuine worry in your eyes, he changes his tone.

“Come on, baby girl, open up for me.” Mando purrs softly. With his hands on your hips, he slowly guides your hips down so that just his tip enters you. He can feel your body relax.

You let out a breath and stare deeply into his visor, your hands are wrapped around his neck. You begin moving up and down his length, each time taking more of it into you as your moans become louder and your mouth falls open.

Mando lets out a grunt once his cock is fully engulfed by your walls. He can’t help but thrust his hips up as you begin to pick up your pace. Your moans become screams as his harsh thrusts upward coincide perfectly with the drop of your hips.

Mando is driving deep into your cunt as fast as he can. He moves one of his hands to your throat and squeezes it. “You– you gonna behave now, you little brat?”

“Y-yes, daddy.” You whimper back.

“Yeah? You gonna be a good girl for me?” Mando says as he aggressively spanks your ass.

All you can do at this point is nod in response. Your mouth agape and uncontrollable wails fall from your lips.

“You’re a dirty little slut, aren’t you? Letting me fuck the shit out of this prestine cunt of yours. Calling your partner daddy. Do it again.” He commands. “Call me daddy.”

“Daddy! D-daddy please– please don’t stop.” You cry out, gripping his shoulders and neck for dear life.

“Fuck, this pussy is– is so good. I might just have you sit on my cock while I– while I pilot the fucking ship.” Mando says.

He moves his hand back down to your waist and pushes your back so that he’s holding you up against him. His cold beskar feels so good against your nipples. Mando starts thrusting even faster and his grip on you tightens as he feels his orgasm approaching. Then Mando abruptly lifts you off his lap and drops you onto your knees in front of him. He stands up, pumping his member with his hand.

He’s panting. “I’m gonna cum on that pretty face of yours.”

You close your eyes and stick out your tongue, just as you feel Mando’s warm juices rain onto your face. “Ahhhhhhhhhh fuckkkkk.” He moans, looking down at your docile expression as he paints your skin with his cum.

“You look good like this.” Mando says with a slight chuckle as he bends down. He runs his thumb across your chin and then puts it in your mouth. You obediently suck his finger before he pops it out and grabs you a rag.

You wipe your face off. “Mando, I’m sorry.” You say flatly.

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry too.” He says sincerely. “That guy was an asshole.”

**********************************

Masterlist

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Taglist:

@pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75 @tacticalsparkles @kenoobiwan @shark-s @theamuz @blackrose8425 @beskarboobs @smutslutz

[morgana-ren]

Nasty shiggy playing video games with his captive hc

Okay, you asked for it. I’m not responsible for what’s about to go down here. All the usual trigger warnings for dubcon and noncon ahead. You guys know the deal already. 

Alright, so for starters, we all know this dude is a total nerd. I know some folks don’t believe that he hangs around playing video games for hours on end pre-Kamino disaster, but for the sake of this ask and my lust, we’re going to pretend he does. 

Shigaraki is kind of a jack of all trades when it comes to gaming. His steam account has more games on it than he could possibly ever play in a lifetime, but he likes to have them regardless because he never knows where his whims are going to take him. He enjoys extreme turn based strategy for when he wants to feel intelligent (or smarter than other people at dominating), sandbox games for when he feels like running around and causing general mayhem, hack and slash for mindless slaughter, online for the rare times he feels like being cooperative, etc. Sometimes he plays those stupid shock value games that only exist to be controversial, sometimes he plays horror just to say ‘fuck you’ to the developer because he can sit through the whole thing with a straight face and steady 70 bpm. 

He’s good. He’s very good. He’s a quick thinker and gets the hang of things very quickly. There’s not very many games out there that he can’t beat with relative ease, and those ones are usually ones he just flat out doesn’t enjoy. 

When Shigaraki takes his beloved and spirits them away to his room, it’s very quickly apparent that he’s a nasty little gamer boy. If you’ve ever met a nasty little gamer boy, this adds a whole new level of terror to the “Oh God I’ve been kidnapped” factor by way of “Oh God I’ve been kidnapped by one of those guys”. 

Eventually he’s gunna get sick of you just sitting there watching him play (more accurately, desperately thinking of an escape plan while he clicks and taps away). He likes it at first because in a twisted way, he wants to impress you with his skill, but he’s a nasty little shithead who wants to watch you squirm, and the closer you are to him, the more you squirm. 

He’s not going to tease you, at least at first. He’s going to watch and see how quickly you can acclimate yourself to the situation.

 If you’re new to gaming or just don’t like it, prepare to be miserable. 

He’s a jerk. There’s no way around it. He’s going to throw you into the thick of things with your Level 1 character, not teach you shit about how to play, and when you inevitably die, he’s going to give you the side-eye and say “What do you want me to do about it? It’s not my fault you’re useless.” 

In that same breath, he won’t let you quit. He’s going to resurrect you, sure, but he’s going to make it very plain that you ‘owe’ him for every single gold he spends doing it before the level ends.

Eventually he’s going to grow bored of watching you frantically try and learn the keys and shortcuts and dying every 3 minutes like clockwork, so he’ll put on a training ground level for you.

Sounds nice, right? He’s trying? He’s not. 

He’s going to pull you over into his chair and situate you on his lap nice and inappropriate. His legs spread just so, your ass pressed firm against the crotch of his jeans so that every single time you jostle even a little bit, you can feel exactly why he wanted you there. You’re separated from his hardening cock by literally less than a centimeter of threadbare fabric and he wants you to know that. 

As you try and focus on learning just what in the hell it is you’re supposed to be doing, he’s going to be whispering in your ear the whole time, chest flush against your back and occasionally rutting his lower body into you under the guise of ‘readjusting’. 

“That’s right.” “Just like that.” “Good girl.” “Do it faster.” “See what happens when you listen to me?” “Don’t stop doing that.” “See? Isn’t this fun?” “Keep doing that and you just might live through this.”

Loading screens become the bane of your existence because not only can you see your pathetic, flushed face, but you can see the way he’s leering from behind you. That manic face of his, heavy lidded, mouth agape, eyes glazed, reeking of licentiousness and the barely corralled urge to bend you over the desk. It’s only a matter of time and you know that, but that doesn’t mean you need the reminder.

It doesn’t really matter how good your clumsy little fingers get at the controls. He’s going to belittle you regardless. Anytime you get remotely comfortable with what you’re doing, he’s going to drag you into harder and harder areas just to watch you drown in inexperience. 

Eventually he’s going to get bored of torturing you and watching you fail. As funny as it is to see how stressed out you get trying like hell to keep your head above water with him, he hasn’t forgotten the main reason be brought you here. 

He’ll pull you off his gaming chair and chuck you onto his bed, leering over you and taunting you with that playful lilt to his tone. 

“You suck at video games. Maybe you’d be better at something else.”

He’s in for a surprise if you’re a gamer yourself, though you are arguably no better off with him even if you are. 

It’s a bit of a shock to him when you take immediately to the controls like you already know what you’re doing. If you’re feeling bold, you can ask if he’ll allow you to import your character so you don’t have to start from scratch, but chances are he’s not that generous. 

Still, you’re good enough at what you’re doing to be able to keep up with him so long as you let him do most of the tanking on heavy hitter enemies. He leaves behind the powerful armor and you’re grateful, even if you know it’s not because he wants you to have it but more because he doesn’t need it himself. 

Believe it or not, he’s actually pretty psyched to have someone to play with at first. He certainly wasn’t expecting to be pleasantly surprised by kidnapping someone who is equally skilled in gaming, but it’s nice that he has something in common with you other than wanting to fuck you into the mattress. He can’t do that all the time so it’s good to know there will be something he can enjoy during the down time. 

Eventually he’s going to kick things up a notch and fight you one on one. You have pretty much no chance at winning against him with his hyper-powered character versus your brand new one, but you’ll put up one hell of a fight.

“Hey, you’re pretty good at that.” “Skilled at it huh? You probably have a lot of practice.” “Don’t let me get you on your back, now.” “Stop struggling.” “Aw, are you gunna cry?” “You look good beneath me.” “Don’t make me put you in your place.” “The way you’re playing, I’m starting to think you like it when I dominate you.” 

It’s inevitable that you’ll lose. Truth be told, you could play a lot better without his thinly veiled suggestive remarks, and you’re certain he knows that. He doesn’t miss the look on your face, filing it away for later. 

After he’s beaten you down enough, he’s going to just watch you play with unnerving intensity. It’s hard to focus when you can literally almost feel him ogling you, but you do your best. Though even as his cock is straining against his jeans, he’s still an insufferable know-it-all at gaming. You’re not sure which is more unnerving: the fact that he’s constantly bashing your build and belittling your strategy, or the fact he’s completely shameless in being openly lewd when he does it. 

Still, Tomura is a man of action, and sitting and watching doesn’t do much for him. After a bit, he’ll tell you to log out and pat the seat beside him on the messy bed. Stall all you want, but eventually you will end up doing what he wants, and you know as well as he does what’s coming next, and if you didn’t, the fact he’s undoing his zipper with that heinous smile spreading across his face would clue you in real fast. 

“You’re pretty good at games. That’s good. But I wanna see if you’re as good at other things now.”

[sukirichi]

earned it [04]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. DARK CONTENT, graphic violence, mentions of blood, explicit murder, sexual violence, angst, tw dubcon, mentions of mass murder, death threats, cheating, implications of suicide, typical mafia business + very unedited (please PLEASE read at your own discretion! if you do not wish to proceed to read because of the aforementioned warnings but want to know what happened anyway, please drop into my asks and i’ll retell it in a much less graphic version!)

chapter song. never forget you (zara larsson, mnek)

series masterlist

Death.

The stench of it reeked everywhere. Blood pooled at the ends of your dress, the warm liquid dripping from your fingers. You couldn’t see what was in front of you, not when your vision had been obscured black, painted red with everyone’s lifeless eyes staring back emptily at you and carrying an ominous message behind words that never had the chance to be spoken.

Satoru was gone.

You ran through flights of stairs as you bunched your dress up, dried blood present on your cheek. The gray cemented walls of this unknown building began to close down on you, suffocating you, trapping you – and then there he was. Your lover, your world, your everything – he stood on top of a pile of bodies, his face as grim as the deaths he’s caused, but that wasn’t what stood out from the scene. It was the fact you couldn’t recognize him anymore; the man before you was nothing else but the devil incarnate himself. Then, just as you ran his way, fingers outstretched to grasp at his shirt, Satoru disappeared.

He was gone.

A scream ripped out your throat as you scrambled for the sheets, pulling them up in a haste to shield yourself. The images were now gone, but that fear kept drumming into you, gloops of blood making its way through your room’s white exterior.

It’s not real, it’s not real – Satoru’s arms snaked over to your side, his eyes droopy from being woken up. You would’ve apologized, knowing he never really got proper sleep, but you were already wrapping your arms around yourself, gaze repeatedly darting back to the walls – to check for bodies, for blood, for death, for him.

“Hey,” Satoru drew you close to him until your head fell on his chest. Out of instinct, you flattened your ear above where his heartbeat rested. Thump thump – he was real, he was safe, alive – he wouldn’t do that. Satoru wasn’t that kind of person. You clung to him like a koala and mumbled incoherently at the skin of his neck, clutching his shirt so tight it wrinkled horribly. Satoru merely littered kisses all over the crown of your head to soothe you, although he was not free to this fear you felt; he was just as nervous for an unknown reason. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

“You-you were leaving—”

“Shh, angel, I’m not, I’m here,” he wrapped you closer to his body, the sheets still warm and smelling like him as if to add reassurance to his words. “You’re alright. I’m here, angel, it’s okay.”

“I was going to die,” you quivered. It had only been a fleeting moment when you saw it, but you were there too. Dressed in white, arms covered in lace and a crown adorning your head; it seemed as if you were meant to be on top of the bodies, and Satoru sat upon it like a throne. It transitioned from being the witness to being the victim in a minute and your chest squeezed so hard you choked out, “I was dying, baby.”

“You’re not going to die. No one’s going to hurt you, you understand?” Satoru cupped your cheeks to force you to look him in the eye. “I’m going to keep you safe no matter what. Not leaving your side, angel, that’s a promise.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I would never do that,” he nodded before he raised your pinky. Satoru looped both your fingers and kissed the conjoined form, not once leaving your gaze the whole time. “I promise,” he whispered, foreheads touching and breaths mingling. Like one soul intertwined, you once mused, feeling yourself get lost in the depth of azure pools he harboured. “There’s nowhere to go without you anyway; you’re the greatest gift in my life. I’d do anything for you.”

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I won’t, angel. I never will.”

And you believed that. Like the fool you were, you really believed that.

The bank loomed over you, its mere presence impending and bringing about a wave of discomfort to you. Awkwardly, you stepped inside, hiding your face in your hair to conceal the nausea threatening to urge you to throw up. You couldn’t help but survey the entire area out of instant wariness, holding tighter to your phone.

Seeing as there was no line, you sat on the nearest open window. “Hi, uhm…I recently got transferred this money from…an old friend, you could say,” you informed with furrowed brows, fishing your phone out of your pocket as you logged into your account. The whole time, your hands turned sweaty and the phone nearly slipped from your grasp out of anxiety. The woman assisting you flashed you a sympathetic smile, patient and kind enough to listen to your small voice through the glass. “I lost contact with them so I can’t return it. I was wondering if maybe you could help me rewind the transaction?”

“Oh, we can definitely do that Ma’am, may I see?” Nodding, you handed her your phone. In an instant, the polite smile fell from her lips, altering into a nervous one the next. “Oh…” she blinked back at the digits, clearly overwhelmed from the amount of zeroes. Dropping her voice, she leaned closer to you, “Do you…do you know the account owner personally?”

“Yes,” you admitted, “Well, I used to.”

“And they wired you all this?”

“About two weeks ago, yeah.”

The employee sat there for a full minute, possibly contemplating how to go about this. It didn’t set well with you – that mysterious, almost suspicious smile she had – that you debated whether just asking for your phone back. “Excuse me for a moment. I think I should take this to the higher-ups,” she announced while scanning the bank with narrowed eyes, leaving before you could have a say in it.

The next minutes that passed had never felt more gruelling.

You sat there with a frantic heart, your jeans damp from the countless times you’ve wiped your hand on it. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. People came in for their own agendas, the hushed ‘inside voice’ as faint as ever, then they left. Repeat. End of conversation.

It was just another normal, boring day for everyone else – but not for you.

“Miss?” a voice pulled you away from your thoughts. A half-bald man was now standing before you, the previous employee you’d been talking to right behind him, her head ducked down. Manager, his tag read, which made sense. He gestured for you to come inside the back parts of the bank, and you gripped your purse tighter as you followed them.

The inside wasn’t that special or different from the outside. There were lesser chairs but bigger, brighter white walls. His office was located right in the middle where the female employee closed the glass doors behind you, silent and timid as she prepared you tea. Meanwhile, you sat there with your hands wrung in your lap, stomach already falling from the grim expression he wore. “About the funds, I’m afraid we can’t do anything about this transaction. While it had been transferred you, neither us nor the bank has the authorization to do anything about this. Whoever sent it to you is the only one that can either take it back or liquidize it,” he pushed his glasses back to his face, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “I’m afraid we can’t help you with this, Miss, we’re really sorry—”

“No!” you slammed your palms on the desk, “No, I don’t want the money, wire it back to him!”

“Miss, we already told you, it’s out of control—”

You shook your head. This wasn’t real – Satoru had to be joking! He couldn’t just give you this and disappear into thin air! In fact, you never even cared for the money; you were just hoping that maybe you’d find a way back to him if nothing but digits was the only thing left to prove he even existed. Desperation clawed its way through your throat as you fell on your knees, helpless tears streaming down your face. “Please, you have to do something, I don’t want the money, I just want him back, please! I just need to talk to him once more and he’s your client, right? Let me talk to him, I know you have contact with him, Sir, please, I’m begging you—”

“Security!” the manager hollered. The sounds of doors slamming open made you stand up straight, eyes wide at the incoming pairs of guards ready to escort you out. “It’s best you schedule a personal appointment with the account owner, Miss. We also suggest you remain on the down-low instead of causing a ruckus like this. You don’t know who’s going to be grabbing at every opportunity to take what was given to you.”

“Everything’s been taken away from me!” you argued back, walking around the desk to clasp the manager’s hand. He pulled away for a moment before you squeezed his hands, the tearing of your heart too painful to bear. You just wanted to see him. “Come on, please, I don’t care about the money, I just—”

They didn’t let you finish. Just like Satoru, just like everybody else, they discarded you to the side, treated you like you were a nobody who didn’t deserve a second chance.

“Escort her out, please.”

And just like that, your fate had been decided. No...perhaps it had been determined the moment he left, and now you walked blearily along the narrowed gaps between buildings, unable to find your way back home.

Where was home anyway? Your penthouse with Satoru? Your cramped dorm back at the university? Your empty flat that had once been a happy home with your parents before they too, left you behind with nothing but a family portrait as a memory? It was pathetic. You meant nothing. Obviously, no one valued you enough, not even Satoru who’d just given you enough to let you live comfortably for the rest of your life. But no matter how much he provided, it wasn’t what you wanted. It wouldn’t bring back the one thing you wanted most, and you fell on the rough pavement, too tired to care about the stinging of your palms.

You clutched at your heart in a debilitated attempt to soothe way your chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were literally in the middle of the nowhere, trapped between the walls that hid you in the darkness and muffled your cries.

He’d left – he really left.

He didn’t keep his promise, and your nightmare had now become reality. You had to bite down your shirt to keep the agony to yourself, nails dug so deep into your jeans it left a mark above your skin. Hours passed, maybe minutes – who knew?

The sun had gone down and the streets grew busier than before, the honking and lively bustling of the night city like background noise to you.

Your key back to the penthouse weighed heavily at your back pocket. There was still the option of just going back home, but what good would that do? Everywhere you went, you were reminded of him. There was no escaping the beautiful memories he left you with, there was no exit from his miserable dream you were forced to wake up into.

Nothing mattered anymore. You felt so lost, the motivation to find your way back depleted just like your energy. You only had your bodily instincts to thank for when your stomach grumbled, demanding to be fed and nurtured even in such a hopeless situation. It made you want to laugh – that even as your heart and soul gave up on you – your body was doing its best to keep you alive and get through the day. You heaved yourself away from the wall and wiped the dirt away from your palms, the rhythm of your feet one heavy clump next to the other.

There was a nice Chinese restaurant at the end of the street that glowed brightly, invitingly. If you could just have dinner, maybe you’d feel better.

But you never got three steps across.

A cold blade had been pressed to your neck, sinister laughter echoing from the darkness of the night. “Scream and you die, sweetheart,” a gruff voice crooned in your ear, followed by a more high-pitched, maniacal chuckles. There was two of them. Fear lit your nerves up and you scrambled to run, but this man was too strong. He didn’t even have to try too much into increasing pressure to your neck, slicing the first layers of your skin that was enough to prick both blood and tears from you. “Ah, ah, ah! Resisting won’t get you anywhere. We just want to talk, okay? No foul play needed.”

You shut your eyes in submission, too afraid to even swallow the bile rising in case the movement would push the knife further. You could only let out a weak, “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, what else?” said his accomplice, showing up in front of you with a creepy smile. He tipped his head side to the side, revealing the silver replacements of his teeth that glinted under the streetlights. “You got his hidden slush fund, didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t need to lie, we saw you leave that bank. Plus, everyone’s been talking about it!” cheered the guy behind you, pushing you forwards with his blade finally withdrawn. You stumbled on your feet as they pointed to the nearest ATM. For a moment, you contemplated making a run for it. The ATM was only a few kilometres away from the Chinese restaurant and you could be safe if you run fast enough, but you were too obvious, the deceit written all over your face. The first guy then pressed a gun against your head, a silent reminder that you were the weaker one here. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, “Now you’ll withdraw it little by little, okay? We just want a piece of it, a fraction of it is enough to last us a lifetime.”

Exhaling deeply, you raised your hands in surrender. “I can’t withdraw it.”

“The fuck did you say?”

“I said I can’t withdraw it! I don’t have access—”

“Bullshit, bitch, you’ve got so much of it, just give to us before we kill you,” he cocked his gun, his friend following suit and retrieving a pistol from his belt. Your lips quivered at the sight of two guns aimed at your way, but you remained firm in your spot, shaking your head at them. The man’s eyes darkened, displeased by your response. He narrowed his eyes at you before nodding to his friend.

“Fuck this man, she’s a selfish cunt. Take her phone and her belongings.”

“No, please, don’t—”

It was too late. They had pushed you on the ground, your bum throbbing from the fall. The second guy rummaged your pockets before pulling out your wallet, jaw dropping from the contents. “Fuck,” he exclaimed, flashing a Polaroid you had kept the whole time. “This you and Six Eyes?”

Your heart fell.

It was a photo of you and Satoru on your first anniversary where he’d whisked you off to a sky tower, arrogantly declaring that he’d make you experience the best date ever.

He wasn’t lying – his arrangement of fireworks and a romantic date in the sky really had been the best – and he’d snapped a picture of you then, sneakily landing a kiss on your cheek while you gasped at the display of fireworks before you.

Just seeing it felt like torture all over again, and the thief snickered at your tear stained face. “Oh, I see. You’re his whore, aren’t you? Everyone called it bullshit when word got around Six Eyes had a little angel hidden somewhere around here. I gotta say though, you are a pretty thing. Makes sense you got him pussy whipped.”

“Whoever Six eyes fucks – especially someone he liked enough to pay this much – that is fine meat, man,” the other muttered more to himself. His eyes then lit up with a thought, the smirk tugging at his lips screaming trouble. “It’d be a shame to not have a taste.”

You paled. Scrambling as much as you could with sore legs, you pushed their arms away from you. “Let go of me!” you cried out, kicking harder when they’ve discarded their guns and focused on carrying you instead. Everything muted that night except for the pounding of your heart as you struggled to get away from them, arms flailing the moment one of them yanked your shirt down to expose your bra. “Don’t fucking touch me, let go!”

It must be luck that your punch landed on his nose, a sickening crack resonating in the street. All of you remained still, with you flattening your back on the wall, arms protectively sheltering your chest and the pair staring at the other guy’s broken nose.

He winced at seeing blood on his fingers, “Oh, you’re just asking for it bitch,” he snarled, snapping his fingers to get his friend’s attention and pointing at you. “Grab her leg.”

Both of them made quick work. It all happened so fast you couldn’t tell which was who anymore. Your shirt had been ripped off; the straps of your bra tugged down to free a nipple while your arms had been knocked into the building behind you. One of them kept you immobile, their grips too strong and their bodies twice your size that you were easily overpowered. You never cried so hard in your life – not even when you realized Satoru had left – and your throat ached from how much you wept.

“Stop, no, let go of me!”

“Shut her the fuck up, bruh,” the man unzipping your jeans scowled, his fingers playing with the waistband of your underwear. You sobbed and screamed, fought hard as much as you could, but you were too weak. Too vulnerable. Too pathetic.

Maybe it was just better to let go.

Maybe it was just better to stop.

Your shoulders fell as they shimmied your jeans down your hips, each and every inch of your body no longer yours. Was this how you would die? Was this how you would finish? If so, you would’ve appreciated at least one last dinner.

You were about to close your eyes the moment you heard the sounds of a man’s belt unbuckling, too lost in your own horror that you failed to hear the screeching of tires, and neither did they. And then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, like an angel dropping from the heavens – gunshots rang through the air. Blood splattered to your cheek. Heavy bodies crunched against the ground.

He’d come back.

Except it wasn’t Satoru leaning in front of a car when you opened your eyes. The man stood a few inches shorter, blond shaggy hair falling just above his eyebrows, the ends dyed black. His body was tilted to the side, half of his weight shifted on a cane upon closer look, but you were mostly captivated in his eyes. He showed no malice intent; hell, he didn’t even spare a glance at the corpses with holes between their eyes, silently blowing the smoke away from his barrel like this was a common thing for him.

He had his eyes on you, uncaring of the fact you were half-naked before him since his attention remained on your face.

“So it’s true,” he mused, “I didn’t believe at first when they said Six Eyes really gave the notes to his girl. A commoner, no less,” he limped towards you, feline-eyes slanted to inspect you. “But nothing about you is common, is there? To get the demon to soften up…you really must be something else,” his gloved hands ran a finger down to your jaw, and you shut your eyes tight, leaning away from his touch. The man clicked his tongue at your reactions but withdrew his hand anyway, stepping a few feet away from you to give you space. “Don’t be so scared. You and I are not that different. We’re both just poor victims of facing the consequences of his actions,” he tapped his cane at your shoes, his face devoid of expression. “Stand up. You won’t get anywhere by crying. You need to learn how to fight.”

You swung the door open, ready to finally get the shoes you’ve been gushing to Naoya about for days. But you were met with nothing but a tuft of white hair, blood smattered on his cheeks, and lips crashing down onto yours. Satoru pinned you against the wall in the same manner he held you on that day he left, his kisses harsh and longing while you moaned into his mouth, legs turning into jelly.

“Angel,” he rasped into your mouth, grinding his boner to the thin material of your night gown. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

Satoru forced his tongue past your lips and kept you close to him, his intoxicating scent tempting you to give in and enjoy it already. For a split second, you faltered, kissing him back with the love you once harboured for him, but then you blanked.

This was Satoru.

You were married to Naoya.

He’d began to leave kisses at your jawline when you pulled back, landing a sharp elbow right at his head. Satoru fell on the floor and you panted above him as you tried to make yourself decent. Fuck, that hurt like a bitch. You had to roll your shoulders back to get rid of the tension as you made the mental note to train in combat harder, pinching the bridge of your noise before you summoned the servants.

Satoru was knocked out for a solid hour. You found it funny that the infamous omnipotent Six Eyes was now sprawled all over your couch, soft snores emitting from his lips. He’d been pretty unresponsive to you so ice far, not even a budge as you iced the bruise you’d left on his face.

You sighed. His shirt was stained with blood, the pads of his knuckles matted with wounds and bruises. You couldn’t help yourself from brushing his hair away from his eyes, humming a little until his eyes cracked open. Satoru stared at the ceiling before his eyes landed on you hovering before him, your touch gentle in paradox to the heat of your gaze. “What are you doing here, Satoru?” you sighed, gesturing to the mess he had on his shirt. “Where have you been?”

“In a fight.”

“No shit,” you rolled your eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

“I-I don’t know. I just…I lost it for a moment and—”

“Do I want to know why?”

“It’s stupid,” he mumbled to himself and faced the couch. Even after seven years, he was still very much the petty kid at heart. You could confidently bet he was pouting right now, and you crossed your leg over the other, hiding a small smile behind your palm. “I overheard one of my men making a sleazy comment that Naoya’s wife looked like a bitch who would jump at every alpha male,” Satoru grumbled, prying for your reaction by looking across his shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me after that.”

“Did you kill them?”

“Almost,” he scrunched his nose, “Then I pictured your face. Maybe you wouldn’t want me to do that.”

“So you care about what I want now?”

Satoru shut his eyes. Of course you’d never stop bringing that up – both to your demises – since you were both a sadist who didn’t mind receiving pain every now and then. Five years of marriage with Naoya taught you to be resilient to all types of pain, the experiences and horrors you’ve lived through practically making you immune to them now. Satoru, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be on the same boat as you. He sat up, his hips flushed next to your thighs, burying his hands on his head. “Angel, about everything... are we not going to talk about what happened before?”

“Is there anything to talk about?” you deadpanned, surprising the guy who widened his eyes at you. Surely, he must be expecting a different form of hatred coming from you, but you were indifferent – numb, empty. “The past is in the past, Satoru. You know better than anyone else it’s easier to just walk away.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” you faked a smile, placing your chin on your hands while blinking up at him under innocent eyes. Naoya once told you that your attitude of being unbothered bothered a lot more people, and it was a technique you’ve loved ever since. Seeing Satoru crumble before you...nothing felt more satisfying. “For barging in here or for kissing me? Maybe both?”

“For everything,” he answered brokenly, “For all the pain I’ve put you through.”

“Do you think apologies are going to suddenly eradicate that?”

“…No.”

“Then I don’t need it,” you taunted, patting his thigh as you stood up, tying the knots of your robe safer this time. You couldn’t be bothered to wear underwear beneath them; if Satoru tried laying his hands on you again, you wouldn’t hesitate to cut his fingers off, and the plain sight of a dagger now strapped in your thigh was enough of a reminder for him. He made sure to keep his distance.

“Come with me. I’ll show you what we’ve been working on,” Satoru’s footsteps were silent as you led him past the secret doors hidden behind Naoya’s study, the room leading into an even bigger part of the house that stored most of your possessions. Satoru let out an awed gasp behind you once the lights and slight whirs of the machine buzzed through the room, chemicals bubbling from one side and little pills being packaged on the other. Your face lit up in a smile from the sheer pride of your hard work, arms extended to the side to present everything. “This is mostly where we manufacture Xenet. All of this – it’s mine. My personal little laboratory, or as Naoya calls it, my playroom,” you grinned, “I feel at peace here.”

“Making drugs?”

“Being safe,” you corrected with a roll of your eyes, “Acting like I’m normal. That gives me peace.”

Satoru was hot on your heels all the way to the main laboratory, where you’d pestered him into wearing safety gloves before entering. You donned a white coat from the blast of AC that enraged goosebumps, leading him in front of a huge clear wall that formulated Xenet’s pure creation. Stacks of purple powder lined up on layers all kept inside a cooling room, and you stepped to the side, muttering to yourself while checking today’s inventory like it was totally normal to manufacture illegal drugs inside your home.

You would’ve looked domestic if Satoru wasn’t feeling the slightest bit dizzy from the drug-coated atmosphere; one that you’d gotten resistant from.

“What brought you here?” Satoru voiced out, shaking his head to himself. He looked terribly devastated, cheeks sunken and dark circles lining his eyes. “I never thought...”

“That I’d be like you?” you finished for him. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you smiled at Satoru and pushed past him to list down your observations for today. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not like Naoya; I’m not a mass murderer.”

“But you’re supporting him.”

“He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him,” you paused in your tracks, the spite evident in your tongue. “If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have to be like this. There are thousands of people after me because you named me after that account. Other than Naoya, there’s really no other reason I’m still alive and breathing,” Satoru was speechless from your confession, which was good, since you didn’t want him chatting too much in the first place. You ignored him as you continued typing notes on your monitor, acting unaffected, but the way you punched through the keys told a different story. “This is the least I could do for him. In exchange of protection, I’ll be sharing my intelligence and give him what he wants.”

“Doesn’t it sicken you that we’re like this? That we do all this – for money, power, control – without the slightest bit of conscience?” Satoru scoffed, “You’ve been married for him a long time. I know you’re not a stranger to the fact we even enjoy this.”

You stopped your task, turning to Satoru with flared nostrils. “You know, Satoru, painting yourself as a demon to look like a victim won’t make me sympathize,” you spat out, absolutely losing it. “I don’t care what you’ve been doing before you met me. I don’t care that you killed or hurt people. I’m not the slightest bit of the angel you claim me to be because if I was as pure as that, don’t you think I would’ve stopped loving you?”

Everything crumbled to dust.

Years of convincing yourself you didn’t care anymore, years of healing yourself, years of working hard to forget him – and all crumbled to dust.

“What are you—”

“I knew!” you cut him off, “I knew everything. I’m not dumb, Satoru. No matter how much you tried to hide it back then, I saw the blood stains. I could smell the alcohol. I know drugs when I see it,” Satoru took a step back in surprise, but you kept going. Now that you’ve started it, you might as well finish it, and your eyes pricked with tears before you could stop it. “But I never cared. I was selfish – blinded by love. Back then, I told myself I didn’t care who you were because I loved you unconditionally,” You were breathing hard from finally releasing that damn fucking weight off your shoulders, your resolve breaking as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand while Satoru remained frozen. “Every night, I cried myself to sleep. I always asked myself why did it have to be you? Why did you have to be that way? Why did you have to be a monster? It broke me to no end, Satoru, but every time I tried to think of you as awful, you would hold me so close that it felt like everything was a lie,” your voice faltered, “I loved you in spite of everything you’ve done. I’m just selfish like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried, “Many times...I turned a blind eye to it. I didn’t want to force something out of you because I knew you weren’t ready, but I was always waiting, Satoru,” gesturing to the both of you, Satoru watched your frantic movements. “Did you think I didn’t mean it when I said I would love you no matter what – no matter who you might be? I meant every word of it. You didn’t have to leave me because I would’ve still left everything behind if you asked me to go with you. I don’t care anymore, I never did. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Angel...” he trailed off, debating whether to hold you or just stay put. Satoru chose the latter and ran his hands over his hair, breathing hard as he, too, wavered. “I was scared. Each time I see your face, I-I can’t help but think about losing you. It haunts me every fucking night that what if I’m not strong enough? What if I couldn’t protect you?” his voice broke, “You were the only good thing in my life. I couldn’t handle losing you just because you got too close.”

You shoved him hard. “That’s no fucking excuse! You told me – y-you told me that I made you feel strong, that I gave you hope, that I made you feel like nothing could stand in your way – so don’t stand there and fucking tell me you were scared!”

Satoru kept taking a step back from the force of your hits, and he took them all with a brave face, but it seemed that he too had reached his limit as you leered, “Don’t be a fucking coward!”

“It’s because I loved you!” Satoru gripped your wrists and tugged you to him, effectively taking the ability to speak away from you. “My whole life, I got everything I wanted and things were easy for me! I don’t know what it’s like to lose something because I had control of everything except you! I didn’t want you stuck and burdened with my sins all for the sake of something as greed!” he bellowed, his forehead connected with yours and the warmth of his body more than welcoming. “I am a greedy man, angel, I would take everything I want with no hesitation but I couldn’t do it with you. It was easier to let you go,” he mumbled, “Than to regret making you unhappy by revealing my true self. Because the way you looked at me – you loved me so much I don’t think I’m worthy of it,” Satoru trudged closer to you, almost rubbing his skin over your soft ones just to say, “I don’t deserve you.”

You pulled away from him.

You’d tore open every chance of reconciliation. And if you were to be honest? You didn’t regret it.

“You’re right,” you snickered sarcastically, “You really don’t deserve me. Here I thought maybe Naoya would be the weaker of the two of you, but he’s more of a man than you are, Satoru. Naoya never gave an excuse for anything – it didn’t matter whether he was capable of something or not – he always tried to the best of his ability. He’s not the type to give up before he’s even tried it,” You knew you were just pushing his buttons, this was much clear from how Satoru was holding himself back, but you couldn’t stop. You were unstoppable, harsh as you challenged your once lost lover who had now wound up before you once more.

“If you truly loved me and felt you didn’t deserve me, then don’t you think you should’ve tried harder?”

You wanted him to regret it. You wanted him to feel your pain a thousand times more. You wanted him to realize what he’d done wrong. But most of all, you wanted him to try harder, to redeem himself, to be worthy of a second chance.

But just like how he’d broken your heart before, Satoru did it again.

Because even after every fucking thing, the only thing he was capable of saying was: “I’m sorry, Angel.”

You’d grown too tired of apologies. But because it was him, because you loved him, then you’d fucking hear it all over again. Just try, you wanted to beg, try for me, Satoru.

“Your plans will continue to fail, Satoru,” you agonized, “You never protected me. The moment you left, my life turned to hell and I almost died way too many times for me to count. This time is no different. We’re all just pawns in the Zen’in’s game, so if you really want both of us to live, you should do your part,” Sighing, you turned away from him, just about ready to call it a night. You were too tired. “Give back the money to Naoya, and he’ll keep me safe until the end of it all. You can just go back to where you came from.”

“Naoya won’t stand a chance against Toji. It’s not his money anyway, he should give it back to his cousin—”

“And neither is it yours!”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, you see the flaw of his plans too!” Satoru gestured to your lab, to everything that you proudly claimed an effort of your hard work. “Even if I gave back everything to Naoya, it won’t stop Toji from anything! He might not kill you anymore, but he’ll definitely kill your husband and take over the mafia, or his kid, then where will you go?”

“Follow him into death like the good wife I am.”

Satoru was stunned by the lack of hesitance in your answer. “You’re serious about this,” he echoed, blinking back to process the gravity of your devotion to your husband. “Even if Toji somehow dies, it doesn’t change the fact Naoya will still proceed with plans to manipulate Japan to his will. He’s going to drug everyone until he’s at the top of the food chain. Your husband doesn’t want to be a businessman; he wants to be a god. Plus, he doesn’t care about you, he’s only using you!”

“Like I said,” you smiled weakly,  “He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him. Once he gets everything he wants, it’s game over.”

“No...” Satoru gritted his teeth, “No, I won’t let it happen. You’re not going anywhere; you’re not going to die!”

“So then protect me!” you shouted at his face, “Do what it is you never got to do before and protect me! I’m disposable, don’t you see? No matter what I do, no matter where I go, no matter how loyal I am to him, I am nothing! Each step I take forwards is just a step closer to my prolonged death!” you spewed word for word with so much venom Satoru felt like he was choking, but it was nothing in comparison as you fell on the floor, weeping with your fists pressed against your eyes. “If you hadn’t left me...I wouldn’t have to live fearing for my life every second. So protect me, Satoru. If you really want me to forgive you, at least save me this once.”

“I will, angel,” he promised – and how many more promises had he made, only to break them? You couldn’t be blamed for not believing him, for finding wariness in his words, for flinching a little bit as he crouched before you, cupping your cheek the same way he did before. “I promise you that. I’m never leaving, never gonna leave your side ever again.”

“You better not,” you chuckled darkly, eventually giving in from his touch.

Yes, he’d left you...yes, he’d hurt you – but until now it felt like home, even if it also conflicted with the fact this was wrong.

“My only wish is that when I die, I want to die without hating you,” you muttered with your lips hovering his, your breaths tangling and his hands finding its way to your hair. “So don’t make me hate you anymore, Satoru. Grant me peace before I leave.”

“You’re not going to die,” he closed his eyes and took the first leap of faith by grazing his lips with yours, a faint glimmer of the sweetness he once had the pleasure of savouring with each waking moment of his life. But he was stupid back then – he’d be even more stupid to not learn his lesson this time around.

“I won’t let that happen, you understand?” Satoru breathed out, “You will be safe. You will live.”

He had said it so confidently, so surely, that for a moment, you believed it. You believed maybe you’d really win this round and come out unscathed, to live, to survive – even if the chances were slim to none to begin with. For now, you didn’t want to be a mafia leader’s wife, nor did you want to be another’s broken lover. You just wanted to be someone who didn’t want to die, to find comfort in the empty promises from the same man who kept breaking and breaking them, and maybe for now, that was enough.

Without another thought, not even the image of Naoya’s smile, you let it go.

You pulled Satoru close to you and kissed him hard and deep, swallowing his surprised moan with that exact same greediness, that desperation to live. You knew the moment Naoya came back or Toji found you, everything would be game over. So for now, this was enough.

A/N. SOOOOO? THOUGHTS? THEORIESSSSS? DO WE HAVE A TEAM NAOYA HERE OR IS IT JUST ME HAHAHAHAHA

taglist OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @greysoulthings @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna​ @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo​ @evesmores​ @ambiguous-something​ @lilith412426​ @kakashiharusohma @aizawap​ | bolded users cannot be tagged ://

[gotta-pet-em-all]

You know what? I don't need to lift a finger to rip you to shreds. You've just given me all the ammunition I need to shoot your argument down.

Someone who so carelessly flings threats of violence should be prepared to face the consequences.

Oh, I am! Don't mistake me for someone who doesn't know the weight of my own words, because I will stand behind them and fight. I noticed you mention violence twice in your first paragraph; first you say that I should be prepared to face consequences for my violent words, then you say inciting violence [implicitly: my actions] will only bring violence to one's door. I notice you never threaten direct retribution, but rather, imply that I am at fault here and some fundamental, divine force of karma will do so.

Gotta love that use of passive voice! /s

I’m a firm believer that people who misbehave must be punished according to their misbehaviour.

Oh hey, kudos for gender neutral they/them! Here's another bit of ideology that bothers me: this whole crime-and-punishment mindset. Fundamentally, it stems from the idea that humans are inherently broken/evil (see: earlier statement about how all humans are abusive towards pokemon) and need punishment to keep them in line. That, in essence, goodness and altruism do not exist in the world, and only the fear of punishment can create a "just" society.

This is bullshit for several reasons, and in my experience, punishment is usually just another form of abuse that perpetuates a cycle of violence. Consequences are acceptable in moderation, but punishment breeds resentment rather than understanding.

Each person has value in this world[;] everyone can be useful to some degree.

[image id: a young man with dark skin in a Unovan football uniform stands with a reporter's microphone pointed at him. The football field can be seen in the background; it is currently empty. The image is captioned, "They had us in the first half, not gonna lie." End id]

Damn, you were this close to making a good point! And there's the capitalist influence in your ideology; that someone's inherent value as a person is directly tied to how useful they can be to others. Haven't you studied history? Why don't you sit down and look up the ten year old girl from the pre-hisuian era who couldn't walk or clean herself, based on her abnormal bone structure. Read about her teeth, will you? Sugar was rare back then. Living past childbirth was rare. But this little girl, who had no use to her society, was cared for and loved. They fed her sweets, so many sweets that her teeth had cavities.

Why don't you read about her, and maybe then you'll calm down. There is love and whimsy in the world you stupid motherfucker.

However[,] I believe that people should not accept a disability as something that limits them, and never use it as an excuse to why they cannot live to their full potential. A disability does not make anyone special or unique[;] they should be expected to act in society and participate in activities the same as anyone else.

[image id: a cropped image of the oxford online dictionary entry for the word "disability." It is a noun, and defined in the image as "a physical or mental condition that limits a person's movements, senses, or activities." End id.]

Sir. I really don't think you're qualified to talk about disability if you don't even know the fundamentals of what it is.

Take myself as an example of what can be achieved.

On behalf of the disabled community? Shut the fuck up. You have internalized ableism and you're projecting your vitriolic self-loathing as a disabled person onto others. You don't speak for all of us.

Some of us wish for a cure. Some of us don't. Some of us have complicated feelings on the matter. Some of us just want to be taken seriously. Some of us need full time care. Some of us only consider ourselves disabled under the social model of disability. Some of us don't really think about it much, because they only fall under the medical model. Dist, some of us self-identify as cripples.

A lot of us consider ourselves to be fundamentally different from Abled folks. Too many of us have been told we're not living up to our "full potential" when that potential exists only in the imaginations of the teachers and parents and mentors who have pushed us to burnout.

Your naive assumptions and accusations mean nothing, you have no worth toward Team Plasma’s goal. Be quiet from now on.

And the thrilling conclusion! Let's do some pattern recognition, shall we? Here, you call me naive; in the first paragraph, you addressed me as "child." Oh, and let's not forget about the tags!

[image id: tags reading "think before you act. you foolish child." end id]

Infantilization of your opponent in order to call into question the legitimacy of their argument; always a classic! Oh, and I am ex-Plasma. So, these assumptions and accusations of mine? Far from being baseless, I would even call them extremely based.

Then we have you telling me that I have no worth towards your goal-- cool cool, so you're calling me worthless. Nothing new there, capitalist standards of labor and the commodification of the human body, et cetera, et cetera.

You want me to be quiet? Make me. Break my jaw, and I'll just roast you with an AAC tablet.

Trainers of Rotomblr, and hence, the world! Listen to the cries of your Pokémon! They do not belong imprisoned in pokéballs, but free and thriving, separate from the labor humans force upon them! Hear me, and free your Pokémon!

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

Sorry i'm late with the asks ♻️👑👻

(It's okay, I was even later)

I’ve already answered similar questions about c!Wilbur and c!Schlatt.

As for c!Dream... it's complicated, and I have actually had a long post about this in the works for a while now. But my short answer is... no, probably not.

First of all, I would like to say that my answer to the question of “can c!Dream be redeemed?” has very little to do with the severity of his actions and whether I personally find them forgivable. I am a firm believer that redemption isn't something you earn, but an active choice that a person must continually make. Anyone, and I do mean anyone, can become a kinder, wiser, better person - provided they are willing to change. The real question is, would c!Dream be willing to change, and would this change be believable and satisfying to the audience?

Let's look at the typical components for a redemption arc (or growth arc, or healing arc, or whatever term you prefer): recognition of one’s flaws, actions taken to remedy those flaws, a significant positive change, and recognition of this change either by the narrative or surrounding characters (note that acceptance of positive change is not necessarily equivalent to forgiveness, or to welcoming one back into their life).

Could c!Dream feel remorse for his actions? Possibly, although I think that if any such regret exists now, it’s buried very deep; c!Dream is a reserved fellow, and a terribly prideful one, who doesn’t often admit when he’s wrong (and believes these admissions even less often). His outward reactions to the pain his actions have caused range from detached indifference to sadistic glee - and considering these actions include but are not limited to serial murder, the destruction of nations, and conditioning someone into helplessness and suicidality, this lack of negative response is significant and disturbing. I think it would take something huge to shake him, but I have no clue what that would be.

Could c!Dream change his mindset or behavior? Here it becomes even less likely. He has invested a significant amount of time and effort into his current plans, and the sunk cost fallacy is a very powerful thing. Furthermore, he has often feigned a change of mind in the past, such as when he attempted to build bridges with c!Tommy during Pogtopia, acted like c!Tubbo’s friend after c!Tommy was exiled, or tried to convince people that he was becoming a better person in prison. These instances of calculated deceit would make any future claims of improvement very difficult to take at face value, both for the characters and we viewers.

Could c!Dream ever be forgiven? That's going to vary from person to person, but I don't think the people he's hurt the most are likely to do so. c!Tommy has enough trauma from being abused, murdered, and personally terrorized by c!Dream to last a lifetime; he wants him dead and gone. c!Tubbo is in a similar boat. c!Wilbur, who once viewed him as a savior, now loathes him for what he did to his little brother figure. c!Sapnap made a promise to kill him, and is willing to stake his very existence on it. c!George is... c!George (sorry, I’m not an expert). The entire server teamed up to take c!Dream down, and was ready to watch his execution; who among them could have their minds changed? Again, forgiveness is not strictly necessary for change to occur, but an environment where one is almost universally loathed is hardly conducive to personal growth.

With all these taken together... the prospects are pretty grim.

But what about the Staged Finale? Doesn’t that prove that we’ve all misread c!Dream’s true intentions, that he’s willing to sacrifice himself for a noble cause, that all his villainy was a ruse?

Well, yes, but actually, no.

See, the only thing we know about the finale is that it was staged. We don’t actually know why yet, although many theories exist, and not all of them are a good look for him. Hell, with the short Revival Book lore video, the implications look even worse. The Staged Finale reveal might call some of his stated philosophies about attachment and control into question, but it reinforces two equally influential facets of his distorted worldview: his conviction that the ends always justify the means, and his willingness to lie to get his way. Both are established flaws, and both need to be challenged for any real growth to take place.

It’s also worth pointing out what exactly his goals are. Let’s accept that they include, at least, a completely united server with no countries, no boundaries, and no significant authority save for his own. He wants, at best, a return to the “good old days” that were never as good as he remembers, and at worst, absolute tyrannical control over other server members who now hate, fear, and resent him. These goals are impossible.

But the thing about impossible, dreamlike goals is that their proponents will often go unfathomable lengths to achieve them.

And I think it’s ironic and pretty damn tragic that the very thing that keeps c!Dream sympathetic, even respectable in a weird, twisted way - his willingness to cavalierly endure personal loss rather than exclusively inflicting it - also makes redemption much harder to envision.

Ask yourself this: what sacrifice would c!Dream be unwilling to make?

Regardless of whether he believed his proclamations at the Finale, he has still very deliberately cut off everything and everyone he believed would hold him back. Losing the few attachments he did have only seemed to spur him on further. And the only people left who stand by him appear unconditional in their allegiance, or at least are enabling him for the perceived greater good; they are unlikely to challenge his ultimate goal, and if they did, c!Dream is likely to cut them off as well. Remember what I said above about the sunk cost fallacy? Until we hear his thoughts or observe hesitation firsthand, we can’t say for sure that his stint in Pandora’s Vault going so horribly wrong has shaken his resolve to unite the server under his rules and by any means necessary. It’s just as likely to have strengthened his committment, or made him angrier, because what else does he have left if not his master plan for control? It can’t have been all for nothing.

(I could talk for another five paragraphs about how the notion that suffering automatically demonstrates or triggers moral goodness is extremely problematic and enables abuse from multiple angles, and how much I appreciate that c!Dream’s isolation and torture was shown to have entirely negative effects as it realistically would, but I digress.)

Right, then. Remorse is unlikely, change is even more unlikely, and reconciliation is almost inconceivable. What does that leave us with?

I think the only believable option for any “redemption” c!Dream might have isn’t so much a redemption as a revelation, either on the audience’s part or on his. Choice #1 is that we are given information about his true plans, and they are shown to be benevolent or at least far more sympathetic than we’ve been led to believe. This runs the risk of coming across as... ridiculously cheap, to put it gently, so my preferred option is choice #2: c!Dream is given a taste of victory, only for it to leave him hollow and unsatisfied. The server is united, the people in it are a picture-perfect happy family, and it feels... fake. Distressingly so. In a tragedy, there is no going back, and he must wallow in regret or continue his Sisyphean quest; in bittersweet ending, he manages to undo the damage either at great personal cost or is haunted by his failure for the rest of his (probably very few) days. I can’t see a truly “happy” ending for him, nor am I certain what that would look like. I believe that the only way he would give up on his current path is to have his nose shoved in the mess he’s made and realize that not only are his means horrific (he already knows that), but his very ideals are impossible to achieve. Even then, it’s possible he would double down, or the realization may simply shatter him. Cue epic final battle, a sword through his heart, etc.

So yeah. I won’t entirely rule out a c!Dream redemption arc. Miracles can happen. But I think that given his existing patterns and the way the cc seems to be setting up his lore (*Chug Jug plays mournfully*), it’s quite a pipe dream. No pun intended.