#but i don't think i'd handle not doing it

[jiminiecrickets]

KILLER? I BARELY KNOW HER! FUSHIGURO TOJI / M!READER

summary. shadows of your past catch up to you – but you're the strongest, and there's nothing you can't handle.

wc. 5.5k

tags. smut | top reader, bottom toji. mentions of underage drinking. sorcerer + teacher reader, enemies-to-lovers (with extra steps), sorta sugar baby toji/rich reader, doggystyle + missionary, mentions of exhibitionism + filming, unprotected sex, brief degradation (r. receiving), brief breeding kink, implied shower sex

notes. every dark-haired male jjk character deserves a silly and illogically powerful best friend with whom they have romantic tension :3 you're him. literally.

The pleasant chime of the doorbell echoes throughout your home. You're not expecting anyone.

You know you should be careful. In fact, you shouldn't be staring at the back of the front door at all. Opening it would ruin the carefully put-together façade of the closed-curtain windows and dark rooms.

Maybe you're tired, and you forget, moving on instinct. Maybe you're bored.

Maybe you're hopeful.

The door inches open, and a man looks up from where he'd been staring listlessly at the flower-spotted bushes lining the patch of green between the entrance and the driveway. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants, and his eyes are dark, flickering with an emotion you can't quite catch before it flutters away.

"Toji?" you say, the surprise in your voice teetering on warmth. "Hey..."

"Hey," he replies – exhales, really, something like a hum. He reaches up by his shoulder, the action too familiar for you not to stiffen, but he just rubs the back of his neck, stretching out the cricks of his body. "So. New place, huh?"

Your hand rests behind the door. He knows better than to expect it to be empty. "Old, technically. It was my first property purchase."

He tilts his head. "Yeah? When did you get it?"

"Fifteen. A birthday present for myself – a gift for surviving another year of high school. And curses, I guess. Surviving them was way worse because getting their blood in my mouth made me want to die."

He scoffs, and the raised scar over the corner of his lips shifts with his amusement. "Fifteen... And what does a teenager do with a house?"

You shrug. "Drink. Party. Pirate movies. The usual."

"Hah. Sounds like you were a fun kid." Toji scuffs the toe of his sandals against the ground absently. Then he rolls his neck and sighs. "Look, I didn't come all the way here to talk history. Long-ass way out, too, so just let me in."

Lifting an eyebrow, you give him a once-over that feels keener than it should be. "Are you here to kill me?"

"What, you think I'm here for that bounty? Who do you think I am?"

"Don't blame me. You seem very well aware of it."

"Isn't worth the effort for the price. 'Sides, you've given me more than that over the years, haven't you? I like to keep my options open, and it seems to me like it's a better investment to keep you alive."

"You talk as if you could kill me at all," you mutter, a little disdainfully, but it dissipates swiftly when Toji cracks a smirk, so familiar and entwined deeply with your favourite memories. The breeze stirs lightly, and Toji's hair ruffles, almost blue in the sunlight.

"Couldn't I? You're the one who runs away."

"Yeah, after immobilising you. Not a lot of fun to be had if you're dead as a doornail. Say – how deep are you in the jujutsu world? You must be rusty. I'd be willing to help you train."

"You'd help me kill your fellow sorcerers?" He chuckles and arches a brow. "I'll have you know I'm looking at a contract worth thirty million from a bunch of religious crazies."

"Peanuts." You wave a dismissive hand. "Now that I mention it, I'm getting complacent, too... I could use the challenge. Keep in contact with me and I'll pay you double."

"You're paying me to use my body?"

"Your words, not mine."

He holds your gaze steadily for a while, and despite his airy voice, his eyes are thoughtful. "Let's not talk business on your doorstep. Lost your manners, have you?"

Finally, your shoulders loosen, and the tension in your body vanishes. With a soft chuckle, you pull the door open further and step aside. "Don't make me regret this."

"Please," he says, slipping out of his sandals and into your home. "You never do."

Zenin. Fushiguro. The Sorcerer Killer. All of his names, all of his history, and yet, to you, he is just your baby – your Toji. It'd be embarrassing if he cared enough to be embarrassed, he thinks as you draw him into a rib-shattering hug. Instead, he feels smug.

Before that Gojo kid, there was you. It wasn't a position you were born for – like the kid was – but you trained your way up and eventually found yourself most suited for the role, all but waltzing into it – because what youth wouldn't want to be number one? It was almost gross, your selflessness and single-minded ambition, and Toji knew how that sort of mindset made the people in power feel. They commissioned him for your death at one point, after all.

It was fun. You were both so young: dancing around each other's weapons as if it was all a stage, chasing each other's clues like a couple of dogs running after a bone. Still – you were society's best, the cream of the crop, and for you to be his, of all people, was a selfish triumph he indulged in too many times to count.

His hands creep up beneath your baggy shirt as he leans up to kiss you, tongue slipping between your lips to share in the taste of some expensive whisky he can't name. He hums – a low, rumbling sound, like a tiger chuffing – as his fingers bump over thick, warm muscle.

Blood and bone. That's what you all are, when it comes down to it.

"You should wear tighter clothes," he murmurs against your lips. "Less to grab in a fight."

The backs of his thighs press into the edge of the kitchen bench, where a forgotten glass of water sits – the remnant of your half-hearted attempt at being a good host while his lips found your neck.

You huff. "A 'fight', huh? I wasn't expecting one."

"You should always expect a fight. While you're at it, always expect to lose. Stops you from being disappointed."

"Sounds pessimistic."

"That's the price we pay for being good at what we do."

"As if you pay for anything, Toji."

He chuckles. He drops the hem of your shirt before sliding his palms up your chest – what a tease – and cupping your face. His hands are warm, callused, thrumming with lifeblood. He sweeps his thumb absently over your cheek, committing every pore of your face to memory. You have the urge to pull away, look down, like a schoolboy with a crush – but Toji's hands are firm.

"C'mon, at least look me in the eye before we kick this off. You that ashamed of me?"

Startled, your gaze flicks up to his. Instead of the half-wry look you expect, he smirks and pulls you in to meet his lips. His fingers interlace loosely at the nape of your neck, caging you in place, and you have no choice but to bend to his whim.

"Stupid," you mutter against his lips, mostly to yourself. "Stop playing with my feelings, Toji – that's manipulative. You're breaking my heart here."

Rather than pulling away himself, he pushes you away, a palm flat on your chest but without any real power. It remains there as he leans back against the stone countertop. "My bad, baby. It's just funny."

"Funnier than you calling this," you gesture between your chests, "something to 'kick off' after... how many years? If you weren't all over me seconds ago, I'd think you came over for a beer and a game."

He lifts his hands in teasing surrender at your accusatory tone. "All right. We'll fuck, then. Maybe include some heavy petting for the B-roll, if you're up for it. Sound good?"

You cross your arms over your chest and muster up a suitable amount of annoyance for a glare. Toji finds it hard to take you seriously – what with your dumb jokes and ridiculous inclination towards flashy fighting – so to him, it's more of a pout. "So, you got lonely without me, huh? Yeah, nah. We're not filming ourselves."

"Hm." It's not a yes, but it's not a disagreement, either. "Why not? It'd be hot."

"I'm a teacher, Toji," you remind him, clicking your tongue when he shrugs, one hand on his hip. "I don't want that kind of thing to exist. If it got out..."

"So you are ashamed of me," he mutters. He steps forward to grab your hands when you start to protest, visibly distressed. He snickers. "Kidding, kidding. Fuck, it's fun to play with you. You don't care about the other one, then? The one from the abandoned restaurant?"

"Well—" Your breath stutters when Toji absently compares hand sizes and laces your fingers together. You watch as he aligns four of his fingers against your ring finger specifically, one at a time as if comparing again, but this time...

"Well?" he prompts, his grin broadening. His shaggy hair falls across his eyes as he tilts his head.

"Well, I don't look like I did ten years ago, and as far as I know, my face isn't in it..." All logic scatters like leaves in the wind when he looks up at you through his lashes, that playful, pretty smirk of his tugging at your heartstrings just right. It's like the years never passed. You swallow. "I-It was different," you finish lamely.

Toji's eyes flicker down to your lips. With a flick of his wrist, he twists a hand in your collar and tugs you down so that your faces are inches apart. Your chests collide roughly. He doesn't seem to care, his gaze trained on you with a heavy, smoky intensity. "Fine. If you won't let me film it, you better make it memorable. I'll decide later if it was worth coming here for."

—

Toji should have known you were serious when you pulled the bedframe about six inches out from the wall. He'd laughed at first, insulting you for such uptight behaviour regarding something as boring as walls, but you'd just dragged him to the bed with a roll of your eyes.

With how loud he was moaning, you could only be glad that he didn't find you at your apartment property.

"Toji," you breathe, your gaze trapped on the tight, firm ass ricocheting off your hips. Your grip tightens. "Toji."

"Fuuuck," he drawls as his cock throbs, prying his eyes open to narrow them at you over his shoulder. Lust has turned the usual green of them nearly black. "What?" he bites out.

"I missed you. Missed this. Fuck, baby, you're so fucking tight."

He lets out a throaty chuckle, turning back around to rest his head on his forearms. With a shift of your hips, your cock punches his prostate, over and over, and his eyes roll back briefly, a pleased groan rumbling from the depths of his stomach. His dick pulses and swings uselessly between his muscular thighs.

"M-Men are all the same," he grumbles. You click your tongue, though you don't miss the way an involuntary moan makes him stutter.

"Awful way to greet an old friend, you know. I thought you were smarter than that. Try being nicer," you slam your hips forward, making his eyes fly open with a gasp, "and you'll get what you want."

His skin prickles when you glide a warm hand up his side and come to rest it upon his shoulder, holding him down with just enough strength to make his muscles flex to fight it. Your thumb rubs little circles into the back of his neck, tracing the dips of his shoulders until you find what you're looking for. You dig into the taut muscle, making him wince.

"Stressed?" you hum, and your voice is gentle. Gentler than he deserves. "Is it money problems again?"

Something like guilt stirs in his belly, but a well-angled thrust has his thoughts unravelling. "No."

"No?"

"No," he repeats. You hum in response and don't push the matter further.

Your hand lifts from his shoulder, and already he can feel the stiffness returning. Damn those God-hands of yours. He finds himself arching back, bracing against the bed, in an effort to return your hands to their rightful place.

You hush him sweetly, pressing your chest to his back and burying your face in the crook of his neck. The angle has the shaft of your heavy cock pressed right up against his prostate and his body jolts with the fiery burn of pleasure, his knuckles turning white as he fists the sheets. "No need to chase me anymore. Not going anywhere. 'M right here, baby."

Toji manages to scoff, and his voice is steadier than he expects. "Not chasin' you, asshole."

"Yeah? Then what do you call showing up at my door as you did, unannounced?"

"Welfare check."

You roll your eyes. "I hate you."

You punctuate your sentence by yanking his hips back on your cock, the wet squelch of lube and precome making him shudder. Despite the rough treatment, a moan tumbles from his lips, and he laughs, loose and breathy.

"Fuck me like it, then," he dares, knocking his temple gently against yours.

One hand lifts to card through his hair. He groans softly as your nails scrape his scalp, but his eyes fly wide open as you grab a fistful and tug, wrenching him up to kneel. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as you wrap your hand around his leaking cock, jerking him off at the same pace as you fuck into him – he swears he sees stars as your thumb and index finger twist roughly around his swollen tip. His cock squelches in your fist, bubbles of precome sliding down his tip and smearing across your palm.

"Fucker," he snarls, ceasing his split second of flailing to grip your hip and thigh. You'd consider it painful if you hadn't also had the pleasure of being stabbed, slashed, shot, and bitten. "Nngh – so fuckin' big—"

"Going back on our word, are we, honey?" you say slyly, twisting your fist up and down his wet cock. "Tsk, tsk, Toji... so forgetful. I'd say you're getting old."

You glide a fingernail up the line of his vein, making his hips stutter and forcing another curse to slip from his lips, and you dig the tip of your finger roughly into his leaking slit. He moans and his back arches against your hold as your throbbing cock easily slides deep into him, the harsh, rapid smack of your balls against his ass almost disorienting.

He shudders. The heat of his body pulls his skin too tight, makes his tongue heavy and clumsy. Your hands are not quite soft – years of weapons training and hand-to-hand combat would do that to someone – but they're sweet on him. Loving, nearly. Your warmth softens the rub of calluses and tough scar tissue, and Toji learns them anew.

"C'mon, baby... want you to talk to me. Love your pretty little sounds." You end the sentence in a whisper, patting his stomach with the absent sort of friendliness you had as a youth. You never shied away from touching him, rewarding him with your weight draped over his shoulders or entwining your fingers when he did something that pleased you.

That familiar feeling jolts him back to reality. He glances your way – perhaps to say something, but he doesn't remember what about – and you capture his lips with yours, tilting your head and running your tongue over his lower lip.

He keeps them sealed, airtight.

You groan into the kiss and nip at him pleadingly, because you'd have to break Toji's jaw to get him to open up – and you couldn't do that to your favourite killer. Your name falling from his lips like a prayer is too sweet to pass up on.

Eventually, with enough petting and kisses, Toji relents, if only to see you perk up like a puppy tossed a bone. He groans softly as you explore his mouth, tongue curling around his and gliding over his teeth.

Your breath is hot and sweet against his, your lips shockingly gentle despite the quick and steady pace of your hips bouncing off his ass. He jolts every time your cockhead kisses his prostate, swollen and sensitive from your unrelenting pace. His dick bobs, dark red and pulsing hotly in your palm, and he groans like an injured animal. It's almost desperate.

Your shaft drags against his slick walls, which clench with a rippling squeeze as if he's trying to milk you dry. With each hungry snap of your hips, your tip punches the breath out of his lungs. His vision blots out, and he swears he can feel your cock in his damn throat.

Without warning, and without a word, he comes, his expression going lax with pleasure as he releases thick ropes onto his stomach. It's four hard spurts and two weaker pulses, the slow, measured tugs of your wrist twisting in a way that has his thick thighs trembling.

You coo softly, and Toji's face is uncharacteristically warm. Little kisses drift their way up his shoulder and neck and he sighs softly, eyes shut and head tilted back against your shoulder. You press your palm against his chest to feel the heart thudding beneath his ribs, the rise and fall with each shallow breath.

You cup his chest and squeeze.

He cracks an eye open, disapproval furrowing his brows. In response, you grin cheekily and nip at his earlobe as you smooth your fingers through his hair – a silent apology for being so rough.

To his credit, he lets it go. Doesn't even smack you for being an ass. He does, however, clamp down punishingly around your cock when he pulls off, making you hiss at the scrape. It bobs and you shiver at the cold air.

Thoughtfully, Toji glances down at it, still hard as rock and curving upwards towards your stomach. He reaches for it.

Your eyes widen when he slips a nail under the edge of the condom. "Wh-What are you doing?"

"Don't sound so scared. I know we're both safe. Said ya missed me, right?" He grins, dark and sharp, with eyes half-lidded – almost coy. "I'll let you finish inside me. For old times' sake."

"Contract-sanctioned stalking? I thought better of you, Toji." Despite your flippant words, your breath hitches, and Toji's grin widens. He tugs the slick condom off and tosses it aside – without even tying it up, the bastard – and before you can grumble about it, he grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him, and presses his lips to yours.

You groan softly as he parts his lips and allows you in. He shifts closer, his knee between yours, and grabs your hand. He brings it down between your bodies.

"Baby..." you whisper as he wraps your hand around your lengths, pressed together. He is hot and velvety in your palm.

"Mm." The sound is deep and content, and he blinks up at you slowly like a cat. "I know. I want it."

Then, slinging his arm loosely around your shoulders, he pulls you down with him.

You barely manage to catch yourself before crushing him, your instincts and reflexes dulled by familiarity and a dreamy languor. Not that you think he'd mind – not with that grin.

Toji spreads his knees and hooks his calves around your thighs. He guides your cock into him again, and he rumbles out a pleased moan as it buries itself hilt-deep into his slick warmth.

His head falls back against the pillows as you press your hips flush against his ass. "Ah, shit..."

"You good, baby?" you murmur, swallowing harshly as his gummy walls flutter tightly around you, as if he can lock you inside forever. Your dick twitches.

"Mmh, fuck, jus' sensitive. Move."

It's only natural that you obey.

Toji feels hotter now that you don't have the layer of plastic to contend with – hotter, wetter, hungrier. You thrust shallowly at first, but as his moans grow louder – less restrained – you allow yourself to move tip-to-base, deep and dirty the way he used to like it. Seems he still does. The rim of his puffy asshole catches on the ridge of your cockhead and his nails rake down your shoulders and back, leaving stinging raised lines in their wake.

Pride fills your chest, inflates your ego. An infamous assassin, the Sorcerer Killer, spread wide and inviting with his cheeks all flushed – he's certainly given you a thousand little deaths. You grip the meat of his ass and lift his hips off the mattress, fucking into his wet heat at a new angle that has him shouting your name.

Maybe it's because you can see his face – see all the pretty cock-drunk expressions that wash over his features – that you find yourself chasing the precipice of release embarrassingly fast. He locks his legs around your waist, thick and muscular, and you want to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Why would you ever want to leave?

"Toji," you grunt, panting softly. "'M gonna..." Your breath fans against his sweat-slick skin, making him shiver and arch into your touch. He cups the back of your neck as you nibble and suck dark bruises into his tanned skin, his lashes fluttering as you shift his thighs on your lap and leave far too many deep red hickeys printed on his skin. You even scatter a few across his collarbones and chest, and you're only pleased when he looks like he was mauled by a bear.

He pants softly, his bitten moans making your cock throb even harder. Fuck, you're so hard – the shape of your teeth printed into his skin for all to see makes you prouder than you'd ever admit. You trace the marks gently with your fingertips and Toji's chest stutters.

Gazing up at you with lidded, unfocussed eyes, he laughs, freer than he had since you met him earlier. Your heavy cock plunges into his stretched hole, again and again and again like you're trying to make him take, and your grip on one of his thighs is tight enough to leave red crescents. He grasps your face, turning it down towards him, and offers a sleazy, roguish grin, breathless. His eyes trace the cut of your cheeks, the curve of your lips.

"You look less stupid than usual. S'all you're good for, ain't it? Fucking me nice an' deep with that fat cock of yours – f-fuck. S'mine, yeah? All mine?"

You shudder and groan, bone-deep, and Toji can feel the heavy throbbing of your cock leaking inside him. The slick feeling of you against his walls builds a hot ball of arousal in his lower belly. Your chest heaves against his and your stomach tenses, familiar planes of muscle firm against his hand. Excitement roars through him like a wildfire – eager and keening.

He yanks you down for a devouring kiss as you come, catapulting off the precipice into white bliss. You gasp into it. His ass clenches around you with his own release as he moans, his soft walls stroking you and sucking you in.

He's so fucking warm, so fucking wet. His body is slick with sweat and he shoves his tongue into your mouth like a man starved. Maybe he is. You groan, low and pleased, and his thighs tighten around you like a cage, possessive in his hungry, unyielding embrace.

Spilling into him is heaven. You've died and ascended, you're certain of it. He drinks you deep, as if he was made for it, and lets his head fall back against the pillows with a less-than-steady sigh as your balls tighten and pulse hotly against his skin. Dragging it out, you grind your hips into his ass in lazy circles, huffing and puffing against his throat as if you've run a marathon. Your fingers graze his own, fluttering in a way that seems almost... uncertain.

Hah. As if you knew what that word meant. You were unshakeable, infallible. The strongest. You'd hold onto that title for as long as you could; the burden was heavy.

Rather disappointingly, you don't choose to hold his hands. They glide down his waist and hips, making him shiver, and you slowly pull out, the solid but gentle grip on his thighs never wavering. You set him down as if he was made of glass and his body twitches as thick come leaks from his stretched hole, dripping and pooling white below his ass.

He tosses a lazy arm over his eyes, bending one knee and bracing against the bed. Another hot gush of come. "Ah, f-fuck... shit. You still come like a truck..."

Your gaze, once so dark and sultry as if you were about to eat him alive, now snaps to him, wide and kind and so embarrassed that Toji can't help but crack a grin.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He rolls his eyes. "Other than the hickeys, no. Wouldn'ta minded it anyway," he adds slyly, peering out from within the shadow of his arm. "Pretty hot when you get creative."

Shuffling off of the bed with a soft chuckle, you pick up the discarded condom and toss it in the bin. You pull open the wardrobe with a flex of a wall of muscles that Toji watches keenly, spreading his knees to eye you through them. His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

"Y'know, I was thinking," you begin suddenly, rifling through clothes and drawers.

"You can do that?"

"Shut up. I was thinking about you – your situation."

He closes his eyes and sinks back into your bed. "When'd you have the time? Not while you were fucking me, I hope."

"Just listen, Toji." You turn around, washcloth in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other. Dark, but loose and unremarkable – as he prefers it. You toss the clothes at the bottom of the bed and disappear into the adjoining bathroom, raising your voice as the faucet squeaks on. "I was wondering if you'd wanna... you know – catch up. Or at least let me help you."

You continue, "I could find you a place in a better school zone, get you set up legitimately. Honestly, actually, you wouldn't even need to work. You could just focus on your family and I'd take care of the rest."

Toji sits up, ignoring the pinch of pain and the mess between his legs. It'll ache later, so he'll deal with it later. "What?"

"I said—"

"Yeah, yeah, heard you the first time. But why?" He lowers his voice as you return to him and begin to clean him up. He meets your eyes and his mouth takes on the beginning slant of a smirk. "My ass that good, huh? You want me to be your sugar baby?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "You're not that hot, Toji. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Wasn't talking about my face. Still – it's not like you to beg me to go on the straight and narrow. What's with that?"

"At the risk of sounding humiliatingly sappy after sex," you sigh, sitting back and dropping the cloth aside, "I still care about you. A whole fucking lot. I only want good things for you, Toji, and I have all this excess wealth that I can't donate fast enough, so if I can change just two more lives – I'd beg for the chance."

The desire to change lives without ending others'. He can understand the sentiment.

"What would you want from me?"

For a moment, you're taken aback by the tiredness in his voice. You blink. "Nothing? Like I said, the money would just vanish into a charity otherwise. Well – maybe I'd like to be invited over on the weekends, and maybe drop off-slash-pick up itty-bitty Megumi every so often. He's that age, right? Oh – and you gotta let me into the kitchen. I make a mean lasagne. Wonder if the boy would like it..."

He snorts. "That's a lot of conditions."

"Well, I am offering to let you live like a plump and happy housewife, so..."

He's quiet for a while, his hair falling over his eyes in a way that blocks your view of his face. You toss a rolled-up towel at his head, and he catches it without looking.

He lowers the towel. "You... don't seem to care that I left you."

"No, I didn't at all care that my friend dropped off the face of the earth without warning." You cross your arms and scoff, the smile slipping from your face. "I only heard about what happened months after you vanished, and by that time, there was nothing I could do to search for you. I had too many people looking at me to dig up old underground contacts and not enough time to comb through the country myself. You could have talked to me, you know," you say, your voice softening. "I would never turn you away."

He shrugs, noncommittal. "It's like you said – too many people looking at you. Would be alarming if I came strolling up to your door, wouldn't it?"

"You did today," you point out.

"Yeah, when there's a bounty on your head. I could be killing you right now."

You scoff, though the hint of a smile flickers across your lips. "You're impossible. But fair point. Just... think it over, okay? Come find me after all this bounty business is over and done with. You know where I live."

Toji chuckles softly, and he accepts your offered hand. You lead him to the large bathroom and he threads his towel over the rod next to what must be yours. He stares longer than he should, but the sight of the two towels beside each other – his green, yours blue – forms a lump in his throat that's hard to swallow around. His heartbeat quickens.

The sound of water hitting the tiles fills the bathroom. He raises his voice over it. "Hey."

Glancing over, your arm shimmering with water droplets from where it rests against the faucet handle, you tilt your head wordlessly.

"I should be picking up the kid in a couple of hours," he explains, "at six. As far as he and the childcare know, I work a normal nine-to-five like the rest of 'em. You could go."

Your eyes widen, and you let out an endeared laugh. "Toji, Megumi doesn't know who I am. The last time we met, he was a newborn. I'm not about to give everyone a heart attack by showing up on your behalf."

"It wouldn't be on my behalf, dumbass." His tone borders between disparaging and fond. "I'd go with you."

"Wh—?" Your throat bobs harshly. The shower seems forgotten, and Toji pushes you backwards into it with a palm on your chest because he's not about to waste the water. It pours onto your head, your hair beginning to stick to your face, and it still doesn't seem to register. A smile pulls at his lips as he reaches for your body wash, scanning the label while your brain putters out and short-circuits.

You didn't expect an answer that soon.

"You heard me," he says coolly, as if this is a normal Tuesday for him. He squirts a dab of body wash onto his palm. "Isn't this what you asked for? In my opinion, it's not that fun. I get a lot of women chattin' me up while we wait. Awkward as hell since I can't be rude or they might tell their kids, and then their kids won't like Megumi... ah, it's a big deal. You being there will help. You love to talk, so you can do it for me. Good game plan, right?"

"Toji, I..."

"The fact that I'm talking more than you worries me."

"You said pick-up's at six, right?" you say suddenly, the glint in your eyes intensifying.

He arches a brow, glancing up at you. "Yeah."

"That means we have an hour." You lean in, trapping him against the glass of the shower. There's a hint of mania in your gaze, starved with a vehement zeal. "I'm gonna fuck you, now."

His eyes widen. A feral grin spreads across his face. He laughs against your throat and moans when you press your thumb roughly into one of the many hickeys littering his neck and chest. "You're crazy. Fuckin' crazy – oi."

It's disturbingly easy for you to lift him by his thighs and press him against the cool glass. His skin prickles as he grips your shoulders and mutters, his breath mingling with yours: "If you drop me, I'll kill you."

"Promise?" you ask with a breathless grin.

He crushes his lips to yours. No one else gets the privilege of taking your little deaths.

[wizard-of-interesting-failure]

"I don't understand. Why isn't he getting up?"

"Wh- you killed him!"

"Don't be silly, death isn't real."

"You cast Finger of Death!"

"I cast Lightning Bolt too; they name spells after fake shit all the time."

"Lightning is real too!!"

"Oh come on. Next you'll be telling me color is a thing."

"...have you ever actually been outside this cavern?"

"What's a cavern?"

"It's where we are right now!"

"Odd name for it, but yes, of course I have. Been this way, that way, through there is a lovely group of giant spiders..."

"We, ah. Might have killed those on our way here."

"Don't be silly, death isn't real."

"...right. Where do you think we came from?"

"Eh, somewhere. Weird shit shows up all the time."

"I-"

"Oh! Your friend there startled me and it totally slipped my mind; would you care for some tea? I don't drink it myself, but I keep some on hand for guests."

"...okay, listen. These are the Caverns of Chaos. Everything in here is self-replenishing. The prevailing theory was that they existed to protect a central chamber. We've spent weeks down here slogging through unimaginable horrors to make it there and you're going to, what, play dumb?"

"Okay now you're just being rude. I am not dumb! There might not be much to do around here, but I do my best to keep my mind sharp. I'd like to see you figure out as much as I have about the ever-shifting layout of the world!"

"We did! That's how we got here! Have you never tried scrying the outside?"

"Scrying spells are some sort of prank, best I can tell; they never seem to do anything except give me a headache."

"Cast one up."

"I don't really want to give myself a-"

"Just do it! At least 2000 meters."

"Alright, but I don't see...what..."

"..."

"...colors?"

"Yeah, the whole dungeon is monochrome for some reason, we think-"

"Lightning?"

"Well, if there's a storm, I suppose-"

"Death?"

"...death?"

"There's...more like your friend."

"What do you mean-"

"Why aren't they moving?"

"I don't-"

"I'm moving. I can move. See? They look like me. Why aren't they moving?"

"They're- there are skeletons? We just came from-"

"Am I going to stop moving?"

"No, you-"

"Why isn't your friend moving?"

"..."

"...he's...'dead'. Isn't he. I 'killed' him."

"...listen, just calm down, we can-"

"Oh, yes, of course! I could never figure out what these spells for making 'un-dead' were for, but they must be for fixing this! I'll just-"

"NO!"

"But he's-"

"We're handling it!"

"No you're not! Whatever you're doing, it's not working."

"How can you-"

"You're trying to draw power from something that's not there. I've done it a few times, don't feel bad, it's a common mistake."

"I'm drawing power from my goddess! There's no way she's..."

"What is a goddess? Is it that little symbol you're carrying around? It doesn't seem to have any power in it."

"...it...why can't I feel her?"

"Just let me do it, I can-"

"We're not letting you turn Steve into some kind of undead abomination!"

"Wh- but he wasn't dead before!"

"He was alive, you stupid thing!"

"Right, not dead. Un-dead. I'll just make him un-dead again and then we can..."

"Why has she forsaken me?"

"We can..."

"Why won't she answer??"

"Color...lightning...death..."

audible weeping

"They're like me...why aren't they moving?"

"It's probably just the Caves messing with the divine connection, we should-"

"Should I not be moving?"

extended wailing

"Is un-dead not like 'alive'?"

"Listen, I know we didn't have this problem before, but-"

"Is there something wrong with being un-dead?"

"OF COURSE THERE IS, YOU STUPID UNDEAD THING! STEVE IS DEAD, THE GODDESS WON'T LISTEN TO ME, AND YOU'RE JUST...just..."

"...just what?"

"..."

"What am I?"

"..."

"WHAT AM I???"

the cavern shakes

"Listen, just calm down, we'll-"

"Why is he dead? Why are they all dead?"

"All wh-"

"The ones you made me scry on!"

"Oh my god, we forgot about-"

"Why aren't they moving??"

"We don't know! What else did you see?"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

"What else??"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

the lich collapses into a fetal position, rocking back and forth

"Listen, this is important, you need to-"

someone attempts to shake the lich. A sudden pulse of darkness slams them into the opposite wall.

"Colors, lightning, death..."

"Just calm down, we can-"

"GODDESS? WHERE ARE YOU??"

"Colors, lightning, death..."

the party leader buries her face in her hands. The healer weeps and wails. The lich, seemingly catatonic, continues mumbling to himself. This goes on for a while.

"..."

"Right. Okay. That's enough of this. We're taking Steve's body and leaving. We wouldn't have a chance against a lich in this state anyway. Keep trying to revive him as we go, we'll-"

"...lich?"

"Yes, yes, you don't know anything about anything, it's very funny, har har, we're done here. Go back to giving yourself headaches or whatever it is you do all day."

"I'm coming with you."

"...what?"

"You know what I am. You know about places that aren't 'caverns'. You know about colors, lightning, and death. I need to come with you."

"No offence, buddy, but you don't exactly seem like adventuring material."

"Please! Don't you need to find out why all those people are...'dead'? I can speak with dead, I guess, if it's a real thing."

"..."

"We are not taking this THING that killed Steve with us!"

"...we probably are going to need help with whatever is going on up there."

"He might be lying!"

the party leader gestures at the utterly guileless lich. The healer turns away.

"...fine."

"Thank you."

"Just...keep him away from me."

The party improvises a stretcher as the lich gathers up his meager possessions. A thick silence reigns as the group shuffles out the only exit, the lich awkwardly following at a distance.

"Wait, I forgot my maps-"

"We'll be fine. Just stay back there, okay? You've caused enough trouble for one day."

Nodding hesitantly, the lich steps over the threshold, leaving his cavern for the last time.

It turns out that the lich the adventurers had been hired to slay had never actually killed anyone before until the impulsive paladin of the group swung first. Now, as the healer tries to revive them, the rest have to calm the ancient undead mage down from what is undeniably a panic attack.

[gain-stuff-eat]

who, may i ask, are you growing these love handles for, hm?

they're so luscious, filling my hands, you've made all this fat so easy to grab with your constant eating and endless stuffing

you are the very picture of excess and indulgence

don't think i haven't noticed all that snacking you've been doing, the constant grazing, the multiple meals, the huge portions, the increasing amount of delivery orders that show up all times of the day and night

you're insatiable and your body shows it

it's obviously not an accident, what you're doing to yourself. you clearly enjoy it. i doubt you thought you'd get this out of control... oh, you liked that? pointing out your uncontrollable appetite, the fact that you can no longer resist this hedonistic lifestyle you've spiraled into?

you're craving more right now, in fact, aren't you?

why don't you just go ahead and eat? we both know that's all you want to do anymore. all you think about. eating and stuffing until you can't move, and masturbating until you fall asleep. then waking up and doing it all again with even more food than the last time maybe because you can't help yourself. it's not your fault it keeps taking bigger and bigger meals to reach that fullness you constantly crave

gluttony looks so good on you

so much decadent fat. it spills and undulates off your frame. don't you feel so heavy? doesn't it feel so good? you wobble and jiggle with every step, no wonder it's hard to think about anything other than food

it's so easy to grab all this pudge because your shirt doesn't even fit. hadn't you noticed your gut hanging out? or has outgrowing clothes become so normal you don't even notice? with the way you stuff your face i'd be surprised if anything in your wardrobe fits. but the fabric strains over your softened, expanding body and reminds you to keep eating too, huh? you like how it feels a little uncomfortable, fits a little poorly, draws eyes to your growing figure

it makes you want to eat

i can tell because you started touch and feel your belly at just the thought, even though i can tell you ate not that long ago with way you can barely move, how you've beached yourself

you're so greedy

but that's okay because you chose this for yourself. you wanted this. you conditioned yourself to get this fat, you've pleasured yourself to the fantasy, after each massive stuffing, and now the reality is you crave this feeling. glutting yourself, getting heavy, the constant bliss of being in a bigger body all the time because food just taste too good and you only want more of it

don't be shy, go ahead and play with your belly. there's so much it, it's impossible to resist. press a finger into your navel, revel in how you've transformed yourself through your appetite alone

speaking of, better get yourself something to eat soon

you're starting to get hungry again

[blubunz]

YAP SESSION 3

— RE chars in general x gn! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: Sex. Just casual stuff nothing crazy. RE characters includes: Leon , Carlos, Ashley, Jill, Chris, Ada, Luis. Claire is mentioned but I don't write anything horny abt her.

A/N: I have a hunch I'm actually gonna be sick un,, not feeling so great. This is just what j think if it's based on normal stuff like no fucked up messed up situations whatever, just casual lovers making love and what they like.

Consensual.

Ok now that's out of the way, I have some preference in minds, obvi they're purely just my opinions.

Leon is like, the guy who swings with whatever you want. Rough? Yeah. He'll go feral. Gentle? Ok. He'll be so sweet, even moan for you I'd you want to hear them, in which most of the readers in my fic would love. Most of the time it's just you, you, you. Him asking you what you want. Princess treatment or absolutely feral, he doesn't have one in mind, he's just on board with whatever you want and if you don't say anything, he'll ask you what you want anyway while kissing your cheeks so sweetly.

Carlos,, grhfrgrhgrh, he's so bite-able. I think he's the soft type. Like, he can be rough, but most times, he chooses not to if you don't specify anything. He absolutely loves seeing you just getting satisfied and happy, so yes, he'd go rough if that's what you want, just not without you saying. Even when you did something bad, or if you hit him when youre on top, he'd just melt and cradle you in his arms, kissing you, and you two would have some cuddle-fuck session. In my mind, Carlos is very emotional and sentimental in his love life. I can ramble on about the same thing over and over, how he's an absolute king in showering you with too much affection.

Slapping? You're into that, but Carlos is scared of hurting you. Bondage? He doesn't want to see ropes burn into your skin, the only thing should be on your body are his marks and hickies.

So anyways, his biggest turn-on is seeing you getting so, so satisfied. This might make him indulge in overstimulation however, he keeps making you cum and seeing your brain melting after each orgasm. That's right, you don't have to think, just be happy of what Carlos is giving you — pure love and affection.

I don't get much thoughts fron other characters in a sexual way, but I'll think about it like rn. Both Leon and Carlos are hot to me so obvi they're like,, um, long, and,, the first ones I write about.

I think Ashley would be some vanilla stuff, and if you two both try to go into some kinky stuff, things just gets awkward because both of you never really know how to do it professionally, and then you two would just laugh and watch a movie.

Jill is like,, ohmygod,, she's so ourhrorhrirug. The Jill in my mind is like, into the casual stuff, but she prefers handling you as well. She mainly wants to see every once of your reaction so mind you usually sex with Jill will never be a quickie, she doesn't do it slow, but rather she just does a lot of things to finally let you go.

For Claire. No, idk, I never think of her in that way and when i think about it now,nothing comes to mind. I love her character! I just don't associate her with these horny stuff so no.

Chris, big beef guy, I like him too! I think he'd enjoy handling you like Jill. Ok, so he's be like, usually, dominant and rough, hed praise you though, but hes very rough, and he enjoys using his strength to let you know who's in charge. but like, you can put him down no matter how strong you are. One word, one pleading look and you got him all soften up and asking you if you needed anything. Usually, he's never the one to initiate too, he respects you and only fucks you when you want to. If he's horny and you're not then he's holding it in, not even letting you know. If he's not and you are, then, obviously he has the need to satisfy you in every way he could.

Ada is like, I think with how she is in the games, she'd know what you're into by now. You're an open book to her and she can read you. You didn't even have to ask, it's like she knows. It creeps you out honestly, sometimes, at how every time she knows what you need. Maybe she keeps track every month? She knows your kinks too, and when you talk to her, she's like,, "I know,," sometimes she surprises you during sex, turning the usual sex into one imof your kinks. She enjoys seeing you surprised following with the high amount of pleasure that follows suit.

Luis. A bottom.

[mvctavish]

𝐑𝐄𝐃-𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃

pairing: john price x medic!reader

notes: ok i know i said i won't be able to post until later in the week but this came to me in a dream and i must share my suffering. i will get to most of the requests this week!! there's a lot more than i originally thought i'd get so it may be a little while

summary: you were one of the best medics in the game. you never lost a soldier you worked on, so what happens when you can't handle the first death on your hands? price tries his best to be there in the moment to guide you — you're a valued member of his team, and he'd be damned if he let the grief suffocate you.

cw: f!medic!reader, blood n gore (general war stuff idk), minor character death (not price or reader), grief, probably medical inaccuracies, hints of pining (from price), some other heavy themes, NOT proofread cause i don't have time i'm sorry! wc: 1.2k

JOHN PRICE had known you for years. You were a capable soldier, and an even better combat medic. Your record was clean. Recruiting you into Task Force 141 had been a very easy and quick decision when it was first formed, and you'd been part of the team ever since. It definitely didn't have anything to do with the fact that the Captain fancied you.

Many new sides of you were revealed to Price now that he was your commanding officer — all of them valuable in their own right. You weren't one to let yourself be pushed around. You had a backbone, and a strong attitude. You weren't afraid to speak your mind — especially when it came to the health and safety of your boys. It was admirable, really. You were practically a mama bear, protective yet soft when needed, truly caring for your teammates and any other soldiers. You always completed objectives to a T, going above and beyond.

But the sight of you now was staggering.

Erratic, panicked, and - for lack of better words - unhinged were the best way to describe you. Your shaking, blood-soaked fingers pressed down hard against slick skin, your breaths panting like a rabid animal. Your gloves had been discarded, and various random supplies has split from your bag when you'd unzipped it to grab the necessities.

It was supposed to be a simple cleaning house mission. Nothing out of the ordinary, but a private had gotten caught in a nasty crossfire — and the result was a bullet skimming the carotid artery in his neck. Even in a proper hospital, a wound like that has a high mortality rate. It's useless, you know, but you've never lost a soldier before. He is not going to be the first.You'd dragged his limp body by the vest and down a hall into cover, immediately dropping to your knees to get to work.

There was blood, so much blood. The copper stench burned your nostrils, causing your hands to grow slippery as you desperately tried to put enough pressure onto the bullet wound to slow the bleeding. Red continued to pour forth, slipping through the cracks in your fingers. “Fuck!” You cursed, chest heaving with your labored breathing. “Come on, goddamn it!” Your voice cracked, one bloody hand gently cupping the soldier's jaw. Your fingers left splotchy marks on his pallid skin, red staining practically everything. “Stay with me, yeah? ‘M gonna fix this. ‘M gonna fix this. It's okay.” Your voice was shaking, and you hadn't even realized the tears that stained the apples of your heated cheeks until the salty tang hit your tongue.

It felt like an eternity, pressing gauze down against the wound, squeezing, doing anything you could think of in your adrenaline high. Fingers trembled, fumbling with the now pink-tinted gauze, the fabric barely stable in your grasp. The raspy, pained breathing of the private had long since halted, but the blood rushing in your ears rendered you deaf to the outside world. A panicked cry escaped you as you shifted on your knees, both hands still pressing against the wound. Tears flow down your cheeks and you choke- a strong hand grips one of your wrists, trying to pry it away. You're insistent, struggling against him as he crouched beside you.

“Let ‘em go, love.” The gravelly voice is familiar, though riddled with seriousness and firmness. He knew this was going to take a while, which was why he'd let Simon take charge, but nothing could've prepared him for the state you're in now. “He's gone.”

“No, no, no!” You sobbed uncontrollably, and it frightens Price. This was unlike the woman he knew - the one he'd fallen for - once level-headed and strong. You're crumbling. It's then that Price firmly grips both of your wrists, using the leverage to yank your entire being away from the body. The air is knocked out of you as you're jerked backwards against the solid plate of Price's armor, falling against his strong form and staying limp.

Price's heart lurches at the sight of you, hands and sleeves stained with blood — not to mention the fingerprints painted across your forehead and jaw, no doubt from you trying to brush your hair out of your face. “You're okay,” Price's voice is still firm, trying to ground you as one of his arms wrap around your back, the other cradling your head. Your body is practically draped across his legs, form shaking with the intensity of your emotions.

"He was just a kid!” You cried out, voice hoarse.

“I know,” Price replied, hand slipping from the back of your helmet to rest on the nape of your neck, fingers gently massaging the skin there in hopes of offering a semblance of comfort. “I'm sorry. You did your best, that's all that matters.”

You sob again, and he tightens his hold around you. The hand on the back of your neck stills and he gently pulls you back to sit you up. Price's gloved hands are quick to cradle your face, forcing your eyes to remain on him and not the lifeless corpse just a meter behind you. His thumbs swipe across your cheeks, collecting crystalline tears and thick blood. “Breathe with me.” His chest rises with a deep inhale through the nose. He holds. Then, releases through his mouth. Price repeated the boxing breaths as long as it took, his fingers gently digging little indents into your cheeks, hoping that the gentle pressure will help pull you back to reality and ground you.

“C'mon, you can do it, love. Yeah, there you go.” A faint smile crosses Price's features when you finally manage to match his breaths, skin crinkling around his eyes. “Good girl.”

The flight back to base is silent between you and Price. The whirling blades of the helo were barely audible with your headset on, muffling the noises around you. It's time like this, when things are quiet and still, that your thoughts get the best of you again. You were not good enough. You are not good enough. If you'd been quicker, thought smarter, and didn't let your panic get the best of you, then maybe-

You're nudged gently, ripped from your doubts, and you look to your left to see Price gazing down at you. There's visible worry in his azure eyes. Words don't need to be passed for the captain to know you're at a breaking point. One of your knees is bouncing, and the grip you have on your seat belt is strong and firm, tension lingering in your body. Price clenched his jaw, catching onto the look you yourself wore. He reached for your hand with his left, glove rubbing against glove as you took hold, his steady grip encasing your own. You look to the flooring of the helicopter, brows furrowing as a tightness in your chest explodes. Your head moved quickly, burying your face against your captain's shoulder. Price freezes, caught off-guard, though he recovers in mere seconds. His free hand wrapped around his front, palm coming to rest over the side of your face to shield you from the prying eyes of the others in the helo.

He knows this ordeal is weighing on you, and the mental burdens you carried outweighed any injuries you could've sustained. Healing will take time, but you won't be alone.

[stringofswineteeth]

I wasn't going to respond because I wasn't confident in my previous response so didn't that adding on to whatever response anyone had was going to be helpful, wasn't much to add that would be worth disagreeing with whoever responds, they'd have it handled.

I'm responding because I don't think your addition is worth disagreeing with. But, you said you can't wrap your head around it, so I am going to explain my concerns because I think they're important to understand.

There ARE people impersonating legitimate researchers right now for nefarious purposes. And it's not about it not being the "perfect time" it is about it being outright terrifying time, where I'm not even convinced getting gender related healthcare from verifiable organizations is safe. This isn't something I'd advocate against doing because there's a lot of complexities to personal situations and everyone must take calculated risks.

There's plenty of links I wouldn't trust and risks I wouldn't take that I wouldn't get in the way of others' decisions surrounding, at least without verifying that it is ONLY dangerous.

Basically, I don't think my response should've been what it was, but I also think it is worth considering why I would respond that way. The level of danger related to all things being openly queer, especially getting entered into a database as such, is unprecedented in my lifetime, not just imperfect. On top of that, the people involved are very young, and the economic situation might encourage making rash decisions when money is involved. Also ig worth noting that the dangers of unknown links have only grown.

Again, I think I probably should've minded my own business, especially if I'm not willing to do research into the organization I am concerned about or click links provided. I also think what I was advocating for, hiding, can be damaging because part of the goal is not just to kill us, but also to make those of us who remain invisible, and I hadn't thought through the implications of that.

I'm editing in an addition because I'd rather be done with this, but I am still thinking about it. All the above that I said holds true, but I don't feel right about leaving it there. Yes, we need to be loud and make sure our voices and history is not erased. At the same time, it is extremely important to be aware of the risks you are taking and make your choices very intentionally. If you have investigated this source and have decided they are trustworthy and contributing to their study is important enough that it is worth the risk, absolutely be brave and go forward with that. I don't want your voice erased, I just don't want you to put yourself in danger that isn't balanced out by the good it does. please be extremely careful. I wouldn't feel okay about leaving this up without really making that point clear. Especially under unverified links to the same type of content we KNOW is being imitated by people who wish us harm.

I am not encouraging you to roll over, I am encouraging you to tread extremely carefully while acknowledging that there are some risks worth taking. It is up to you to decide what those are.

Researchers at the Lyda Hill Institute for Human Resilience with the University of Colorado Colorado Springs are recruiting LGBTQ+ teens (ages 15-18) and their caregivers for a study of an online group program.

Parents and teens can EACH earn up to $160 for their participation.

Click the link below to learn more!

[nabi-unveiled]

The People on the Periphery

Just like everything else, When It Rains, It Pours has been very intentional about its use of characters. Every person that has been mentioned or shown has served some type of narrative purpose.

The coworker? She was a trigger for the conversation about dividing people into categories AND foreshadowed what was to come.

The other coworkers? They clued us in on Hagiwara's competency in work and his genial nature. They also served to contrast how Hagiwara LOOKS at Sei versus the other people around him.

The party people? They showed us more information about Hagiwara's relationship with Kaori and how Hagiwara has been repressing his inner thoughts. It also shows that Kaori has been controlling Hagiwara's narrative just like Fujisawa controls Sei's.

Hiraiwa? He contrasted Hagiwara with how he handled the LINE exchange. But he ALSO cemented that Sei had once been more social and gave blatant cues about Fujisawa's controlling nature.

Ayako was a mirror for Hagiwara's relationship and she spilt the tea.

The point is...every person has served a narrative purpose. Most of the time, they've served more than one.

This brings us to our people on the periphery: Fujisawa's editor and Kaori's parents.

What's THEIR purpose in this story? There's a few options.

Option #1: They serve no purpose.

There's always the possibility that they serve no purpose and are mere conversational fodder. I would be disappointed if this is the case as nothing in this show has been without purpose, and I'd make up a purpose for them just to please myself.

Option #2: Fujisawa/Kaori are also having a physical affair.

After all, lying to meet your lover has been established.

However, as much as I would LOVE for Fujisawa's secret to be the editor, I just don't think it is the case. After all, Fujisawa and Kaori BOTH have a very strong emotional response to finding out about the affair. Their behavior doesn't align. This option would also cheapen some narrative aspects if the partners had been cheating all along.

Option #3: The parents/editor demonstrate Fujisawa/Kaori seeking and having emotional comfort outside of their relationship.

It's possible that the editor/parents are meant to serve as a contrast between Fujisawa/Kaori and Hagiwara/Sei.

Fujisawa's having interesting conversations with his editor. Even though he would never want Sei to talk to a coworker.

Kaori's going to her parents when she's bored. Even though she doesn't like it if Hagiwara stays out late himself.

Fujisawa/Kaori had already went outside of the relationship to find connection and comfort, and they have the personal freedom to do so. But Hagiwara and Sei? They didn't have these people in their life. They were LONELY.

The editor and parents don't have to be shown on screen to serve this purpose. It's consistent with the show's writing. The customer with the broken nail stayed off screen but gave us the segue into all of the broken nail analogies.

However, I keep wondering if there will be more to it. After all, Ayako was mentioned several times in casual conversation before her full narrative purpose was revealed.

Option #4: They become important during Fujisawa/Kaori's spiral.

Technically, this idea builds on the previous interpretation. IF these people are Kaori/Fujisawa's emotional support, then it makes sense that they would play a role in mediating the spiral. Either getting Fujisawa/Kaori to calm down, realize the deeper problems in the relationship, or let go of Hagiwara/Sei. That said, I don't see this happening on screen. If Sei/Hagiwara are not in the scene for some reason, they aren't getting screentime. I also feel like this option isn't in line with the narrative choices thus far either. The narrative has focused on the actions and choices of our leads. It's focused on them wrestling with their decisions and inner turmoil. And I don't see the show taking a sudden detour from that. I don't really want it to.

Option #5: ??? I have no idea.

I have been wracking my brain for a stronger narrative purpose for these people if it's NOT a physical affair/cover up, but I just don't know. I give up.

So for now, Option #3 paralleling Fujisawa/Kaori and Hagiwara/Sei is where I'll settle. It demonstrates Hagiwara/Sei's loneliness, Fujisawa/Kaori's personal freedom, and emphasizes yet again that NONE of them are really getting what they need out of these relationships.

Anybody have thoughts? I'd love to hear them.

3 Day Later....

The editor is a control tactic. Pretty sure about that one now. Sei mentions the party, and Fujisawa IMMEDIATELY brings up the editor as a way to try to keep Sei from going to the party. Still not confident about the parents.

[saturnzskyzz]

Ler In-ho with Gi-hun tkl headcannon's!!!

Everyone clap and cheer for my first headcannon request!!! Clap it up ��👏👏 thank you @ryoko-loves-roses for this request! I don't make that much headcannon's, so bare with me 😭🙏 I also didn't say this on text, but In-ho tickling Gi-hun to lift up his spirits is such a good headcannon!! Might have to take that into consideration and wip up a fic after blasting through my fic requests ✍️ (I'm sorry for how long this is 😭 I might've gotten carried away)

ANYWAY!

I feel that since Jung-bae and Gi-hun have reunited in the games, Jung-bae has a sudden urge to pick on him for that, and how he does it is through poking his sides or stomach, causing Gi-hun to break into a small, nervous smile! And since they have their little group with In-ho and everyone else, he notices this quite often, and so that's when he takes it upon himself to use that fact for himself!

How I think he'd tickle Gi-hun as a way to lift his spirits up, I feel that he would go light, and try to make it seem like they're friends just having a good laugh because he's having to make amends with these people in order to fit in, so he.. OH so totallyyy shows him just a tiny bit of mercy because he's acting with those who are in debt.. Totally not because he's also enjoying the fun banter... Totally.. Only a tiny bit though.

-he goes light and is cautious, but also, he still have that evil side with him.

-he'll literally forget half way through tickling Gi-hun as to why he's even tickling him in the first place, causing Gi-hun to become breathy with his giggles. (it's the contagious and interesting sight he sees from Gi-hun just losing his Michivious and dark persona just by a few pokes to the sides)

-he'll even laugh with Gi-hun because that's how contagious his giggles are!

-he'd give teases here and there, and would sometimes tease too much, resulting in Gi-hun laughing his fucking head off because he can't handle the teases while being tickled, so In-ho is now dealing with a flustered mess of a puddle infront of him. (He teases him about that too)

-I think his tease would go along the lines of;

"I'm glad I've caught Jung-bae poking you, this is just perfect!"

"You're seriously this sensitive? For you to be a previous winner, I'm impressed!"

"Can you hear yourself right now? I'd mistake you as a little girl!"

"Awe, are we going all flustered now? That's cute."

OH MY GOD Gi-hun would flip on a table and break it by the harsh landing cause WHAT?!

Since he's wanting to lift his spirits, I don't think he'd use his free hand to pin Gi-hun's hands.. I KNOW IT'S A CURVE BALL BUT TRUST ME!

He'd leave them free to roam and thrash cause let's be honest.. Gi-hun isn't doing shit 😭 (touch-starved much??)

And he'd also tease him about that too!

"You got all the hands in the world, and yet you don't even stop me? It's like you wanted this to happen."

When he's done, gi-hun is such a flustered mess that he just stays there for a few minutes, resulting in In-ho giving his left over milk that he would have to give him to calm him down!

The aftercare like that is on instinct because of past tickle fights with Jun-ho I'M SORRY-

I hope these were good! I wanted to focus on the idea you had for Gi-hun having his spirits lifted cause aaaah!!! That's a good idea!

[winterspellsfrozenkit]

Can you do the etymology of the Twisted Wonderland characters names ?

I could... However, there's actually a couple of lovely videos on Youtube by @yuurei20 that explains the etymology of the character and dorm names by translating the Official Fanbooks and giving some context, so I'd suggest watching those because I feel like I'd be rehashing a lot of stuff they said. If you need to find them on YT, the Youtube handle is YuuRei and the titles of the videos I'd suggest watching are "Twisted Wonderland Etymology: Character and Dorm Names" as well as "Twst Etymology: Cater's Name" I'm aware they don't cover all the names, like they don't cover Sebek, Silver, or Lilia, but these are good starting points to look at.

THAT SAID, I will point something out about Idia's name because Idia is my favorite character and this is not mentioned in their videos about Idia's name and a lot of people don't seem to mention this connection.

A lot of people point out Idia could be coming from the word Idea and that's where they think the name comes from because he's a maverick genius, but he is based on Hades, a Greek god with many different epithets.

Greek gods had different epithets that represented aspects they were worshipped under. An example of this is Athena Parthenos, which means Virgin Athena or Athena the Virgin. That particular epithet is what the Parthenon is named after.

Hades has an epithet that could be also where Idia's name came from. Hades Aidis. This means "Hades the Unseen" and it fits really well with Idia being a recluse who hides in his room and usually attends things via tablet. Given Idia's grandmother's name is Aidne, which appears to come from one of Hades other names/epithets, Hades Aïdonefs/Aidoneus, I really think the epithets and Greek myths played a big part in the Shroud names.

This would play into why my Yuu, who I based on Persephone, is called Kora. (If Disney will not give me much Hades and Persephone stuff, I will make my own). The name Cora/Kora comes from the Greek Kore, the name associated with Persephone before her abduction into the Underworld, that translates to "maiden" or "girl".

The reason I did Rook's nicknames rather than sending the person who asked me to YuuRei's video about Rook's nickname was because I was also giving a bit of my understanding on some of the nicknames as to WHY Rook gave those specific nicknames. Such as why Trey is not a Monsieur, but a Chevalier.

If you'd really like me to make a list over the etymology of the names with my personal takes on some of the names, I can, just send me another ask and I'll make the very long list, but heads up, that will take me some time. As in at least a couple of days up to a week's worth of time so I can do more research and stuff and write down all the connections for each characters. But for a starting off point, I really feel like those two videos I mentioned are really helpful for understanding the name etymology.

[pain-is-forever]

Theo rolls his eyes and pushes the sword to the side. "For being great and powerful, you don't think things through. You'd have at least two pissed demigods and a very angry and very immortal emperor after your ass if you did. Come on, I thought you knew better than to put yourself in a situation you clearly won't be able to jump back from."

He's half warning and half trying to provoke Rey, testing to see if he'd actually try going for the kill. Wanting to make sure he knows what he's dealing with here.

He stops himself from wincing when the sword cuts through his forearm. Yeah, it hurts. So do his other injuries. So does his entire body. He can't show weakness now. "If I were you, I'd go and try to wash those toxins out of my mouth before they start eating away at your gums and teeth~"

He grabs the handle of the sword with one hand and uses the other to wipe Rey's spit off of his face, then shakes the substance off and makes a disgusted face. "Bleh, it's sticky. Gross." His face is fine, obviously it is, he's immune to poison. He wouldn't have survived with the way his blood is if he weren't.

OPEN STARTER: BROKEN PROMISES.

TW: Murder, blood, self harm, suicide attempt, gore.

Why.

Why does everyone leave him? He can't bear it anymore. He can't- there nothing he can do about this anymore. He can't bring them back. He can't bring any of them back. It's over. They're all gone. What would his friends say if they saw this? They'd abandon him for sure. Gods, he's going to be alone again. He already feels alone.

Why did Argo have to do this? Make that deal with Eris? Make Theo kill him? Why- there had to be some other way. Anything at all. If they only had a bit more time, he's sure they could've figured something out. Why do they never have time?

Fuck. This is all his fault. He's a disgusting pig. How could he? How could he do this? No one will ever forgive him. This isn't something he can fix. It just isn't. He can't do this. He can't- he did. He did do this, and he regrets it so badly.

Everything is quiet, the only noise he hears is the horrible ringing in his ears and his quiet sobs. Even the ghosts in his head don't dare speak, though he's sure his parents would love to give him a piece of mind. Or Andrea. He just... doesn't hear anything.

Nothing matters anymore. He doesn't deserve to live. He broke two of his most important promises today- that he'd never kill another person the way he killed his sister and that he would always stick by Argo. How can he stick by Argo if he killed them the same way he killed Andrea?

There are cuts and slashes all over his arms and legs, his sword laying to his side, covered in a mix of his and Argo's blood. Tears mix with the blood on his face. Theo wants to just grab the sword again and slit his own throat, or stab himself through the heart, but he's shaking and crying too much to be able to hold his weapon right now.

He's sitting by a bump in the ground in the woods. A bump that resembles an improvised grave. There's a dagger in the ground on the bump- if anyone knew Argo, they'd recognize it as theirs. Theo's back is turned to you, hands clutching at his hair. "No- no, no... no... please, no..."

Taglist (ask to be added or deleted!!!): @the-great-emperor-commodus @literally-tinker-bell @the-son-of-the-sun @roryandthethorns @dad-left-for-the-milk @reyno-solis-real @onlymythologypersonincamp @l0st-child-of-war @lyric-of-the-sun @toxic-daughter-of-love

[victorbutnotreally]

tw:death,suicide

so. 

hello.

the reason i've been gone for so long is because my best friend back in sweden passed away. losing her took a toll on me. she was my first friend, really. the kind of friend you make a promise with to stay friends forever. i remember crying my eyes out when i came to the us and i had to leave her. we went through everything together. all the hard exams, fun school trips, snowy days in with hot chocolate and warm blankets, she was there for everything. i was there for her first period, and she was there when i wanted to kill myself. i loved her more than anything. i wanted to share everything with her. i wasn't able to go home for christmas when i usually would go every single year. we'd make our gingerbread houses and have our candy. i'd be the architect, putting the gingerbread house together, and she'd decorate it to be something out of a fairytale. i hate the taste of ginger, and she always made fun of me for it, telling me how i have "baby tastebuds". i won't eat the beautiful gingerbread houses, joking that it's because i'd hate to ruin her creation. but this year, i wasn't able to do that. and i never will. she was the one who pulled me out of suicide, and now i've lost her. i'd do anything for a single second with her. i've been throwing myself into work to not feel. because i knew the emotions would be too strong. but i broke down one day, and i found myself on the top floor of my dorm. it took a lot to not jump that day, but i managed it somehow. i cried and cried until my head throbbed and i turned into a robot for the next couple of days. i broke down again today. i don't think i can handle it. i have never imagined life without her. she was always my everything. the best memory of my life was going to norway with her by train. just us. i was going to go to stray kids' paris show with her, explore the city, and then go back to swden for a while. i gave away the tickets to some friends because i couldn't go without her. i don't think i'll be posting for a while. i still haven't come to terms with her death. god, it feels wrong saying that. to lose someone so full of life, to lose someone who is the whole reason you're alive, is something i hope none of you have to ever go through. 

rest in peace, darling. i hope you knew how loved you were. 

[ewingstan]

Hrm. I'm aware that there's a common narrative that Ward suffered from wb steering the text to directly respond to people who gave Amy too much credit. I've already given my thoughts on the way Amy's character has been handled so far—I certainly understand how people would see Amy's increasing propensity to give weak excuses to her actions and read them as wb strawmanning their own reactions to the text. Strictly speaking though, it didn't have to be read that way— its possible, for instance, that Amy's development was driven by wb really wanting Breakthrough's struggles with becoming better people to be contrasted against a villain who's too prone to abdicate responsibility to grow. I have my misgivings about that as a theme, but it is in line with the broader focus of the text, and doesn't rely on an assumption that wb is writing her that way to pwn commenters.

Eric though. Eric really does just seem inexplicable unless you read him as wildbow getting frustrated at certain parts of his fanbase and wanting to dress them down. At least when Amy gave weak justifications for herself, it was for herself—there's a legible reason why she'd do it in the first place. And as I said, it served a thematic purpose of contrasting Breakthrough's attempts to get better by taking responsibility for their actions with Amy spiraling from a refusal to do the same. What similar thematic purpose is Eric showing? What purpose is he serving at all, outside of claiming that people who "defend" Amy are the type of people who don't face real hardship and stare at women's boobs?

The type of defense here is important to note, because the main thing he does is push back against Victoria reading everything Amy does in the worst possible light. This is behavior that makes sense in a comment section when you're trying to detangle your own feelings about a character from a narrator who has a justifiably hostile perspective towards her. It's not the behavior of someone responding to a current crisis event. And it's not the behavior of someone talking to Victoria rather than other readers, considering how obvious Vicky makes it that there's history between her and Amy. Yes, the oddity of that reaction is to some degree intentional, in that its supposed to make Victoria feel increasingly alienated from those around her—but Eric also seems to be getting posed as a synecdoche for non-capes in general here, a representative of a common type of thinking, rather than a wackadoodle who choose a very bad time to defend a stranger's intentions.

On that point. I don't think that wildbow is fully uncritical of Victoria's tendency to fully dehumanize some of her more heinous enemies, or her tendency to see the unpowered masses she's nominally acting in service of as just not understanding the Great Sacrifices™ and Tough Choices™ of their protectors. Ward has flirted with those attitudes in the past, but there's usually enough tension in the framing to suggest it's not fully the intended takeaway. And I don't want to overstate my case, because even here the framing pushes against some of what Victoria takes away from Eric—its made clear that Victoria's in a particularly ugly state of mind right now. The characterization of Larue right afterwards pushes back somewhat against her attitude towards non-capes, and the conversation with Jessica made the idea of seeing Amy's perspective on an issue, and the idea of denying a villain's full responsibility for their actions, seem less ridiculous on its face. Reading Eric's inclusion in the best possible light, I'd see him as the text introducing certain ideas in an unflattering light in order to make Jessica's later reaffirmation of the theme that everyone can act horribly in the right circumstances hit that much harder.

But Eric really feels like who'd you write when you wanted to complain about the bleeding hearts. His presentation is much more what I'd expect from a jingoistic action flick, the most unflattering caricature of someone who wants basic limitations on the actions of cops and soldier. Very "decadent ivory tower cultural relativist who wants you to consider the drug lord/terrorist/rapist degenerate's point of view," who's putting obstacles in the way of the action hero's righteous and necessary cleansing crusade against the subhuman hoards. Why the fuck is a character made to support the worldview of Dirty Harry or the fucking Turner Diaries in a wildbow novel?

[youwerethedefeated]

i will forgive you if you do atsukagehina. maube

That's it. That's the ship to me lmao

More under the cut cause I need to yap (also its my personal opinion blablabla you know the drill

Atsumu wants what they have so badddddd he thinks he can handle them. (Spoiler alert, he can't)

Also I'm tired of people acting like he's only crazy for Hinata. He's pretty insane about kageyama too

The reason ats*hiners only ever bring up the same 2-3 panels of them together is that, for every other one, they're talking about kageyama (ship so ass all they do is talk about a third guy lmao)

(ALSO Atsumu keeps bringing up the youth camp every five minutes. "Tobio-kun wasn't like this... what happened to him..." brother you knew him for LESS THAN A WEEK put your fucking hand down)

I don't really think it'd work in practice tho, cause Kagehina are too greedy and obsessed with each other to share. Sorry atsumu #cry about it

(More on this: I do think they'd both be insanely jealous of Atsumu but for different reasons. Kageyama cause he worries Atsumu might become a better friend to hinata. And Hinata cause he worries Atsumu might become a better a rival to Kageyama, now that they're on the same team and competing for the same position)

Also WHO put his name in the front. This guy is a loser he ain't topping shit. Especially NOT the freak duo lmao

Speaking of which, if they were to have sex all together, it'd be a coin toss: 50% chance kagehina team up against him, OR they'd start competition. Either way atsumu is coming out of that room traumatized.

It's kind of a careful what you wish for situation: he's got that thousand yard stare afterwards. Completely MAULED. "Everyone says they're freaks but I didn't think they were THAT freaky"

Anyway he doesn't really match their freak and probably wouldn't be able to keep up with them for long

Tldr; It's fun to think about but I don't really like it???? I'm conflicted. I've tried reading atsukagehina fics before but they were kinda meh to me. I'd probably enjoy it more if I actually liked Atsumu lmao

[moltensmusings]

Going to try rephrasing this because it came ofd as way more rude then I meant when I responded and I don't want to be mean or aggressive. To start: anything after omen of the stars is outside my wheelhouse. I read until firestar died and I was in high-school by then so I bowed out. The whole ashfur possession/dark forest arc is not something I'm familiar with. Last bit of ashfur I truly remember is them excusing him being in starclan after trying to kill the three and squirrelflight.

I think we're going to have different takes on Ashfur's canon arc and that's fine! It's perfectly valid to dislike how his arc was handled in canon and focus instead on one where he didn't become violent and cruel when rejected. I get it I've had anger at canon character arcs before.

That said: my issue more specifically is targeted at the Erin's for having an arc where a man is rejected, plots to murder a woman and her children years later, and then they turn around and pretend it was the woman's fault for rejecting him or baby him acting like he can't be held responsible for his actions.

Doubly I'm aggravated at the fandom for either trying to somehow act like he and Thrushpelt are at all similar in how they handle rejection by painting thrushpelt out to be a creep. Or collectively decide that "yes bluestar and squirrelflight are actually both horrible people for rejecting these men they have no obligation to be romantic with."

Ashfur had every right to feel slighted when Squirrelflight kind of led him on for a bit before making her choice and him being heartbroken is valid, but never moving on and plotting murders is horrible. And I'm angry at the Erin's for pretending it's not.

My aggrevation at the fandom equating the two also has a lot to do with it being a common thing that people with crushes are painted as creepy and weird in fandom spaces when people try to find someone to hate regardless of how harmless the crush is or how kind the person crushing is.

Again: you are perfectly valid in your hatred of his canon arc. I'd have the same feelings of aggrevation at the writing and the fandom regardless of what man was in his place.

I always hate when people compare thrushpelt to Ashfur or any other cat who could not handle rejection. Do we honestly believe ashfur would've been half as selfless as Thrushpelt if squirrelfeather got pregnant and claimed him as the dad?

No. Thrushpelt was so kind and selfless that it could be argued to be boring. I love him personally but I could see him being uninteresting to some readers. Thrushpelt cared about Bluestar regardless of what choices she made because he always believed she had her reasons for making them. He stepped up to support her when she needed it and didn't ask for anything in return.

Honestly I think the biggest tragedy of warriors is him never being allowed to fall in love or have a family again. He even got slighted when it came to having apprentices. But part of what I love about him is that even after death he was loyal. Starclan cats talk to the living all the time. It would've been so easy to tell everyone Bluestar's secrets, but he's not spiteful or cruel. He finds out two of his children live and accepts that as the end.

This is also why I hated the author trying to paint Ashfur as just a fool in love back in omen of the stars. Because we already had an example of someone who had unrequited love who was lied to and used. And this is why I hate when people paint thrushpelt as some loser who was weird about bluestar not loving him. He never asked her for anything and gave his all.

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

see sometimes I try and think about it all more logically. what if it was all happening to a friend. my friend!! you completely forgot to feed your kitten his wet food for five days? you haven't drunk water for a couple of days? you didn't shower or change your clothes for four days? you've only eaten two actual meals in the last two days? your average sleep in the last week is around five hours? my friend, you need help.

since it's me, I don't need help.

[laurellala-comics]

Fun fact! This was the real tipping point that made Edgeworth run away after AA1, they just couldn't show it on screen because they didn't have the rights to Chappell Roan's music <3

(A spiritual successor to my "Hot to Go" joke from this post. Image description under the cut below)

[Image ID: a four page black and white comic of characters from ace attorney.

The Judge stands solemnly at his podium holding a gavel "Mr. Miles Edgeworth, you are on trial for the murder of blah blah blah..."

A cheerful Maya Fey leans over to Miles Edgeworth, who is staring straight ahead and looking very concerned

Maya: "Psst! Mr. Edgeworth! If you win your trial, can I show you Chappell Roan?

Miles: "What the hell, sure." Internally he thinks "Oh God I am going to jail"

A box saying "later" in the top corner of the next panel marks the passage of time.

The Judge smiles as he says "I declare you... Not Guilty!"

We see a full body shot of Maya dancing excitedly while Miles looks on, emotionless

Maya: YIPPEE omg you're going to LOVE this

Miles internally thinks "oh no, the consequences of my actions.

We see Miles standing in between Phoenix Wright and Maya looking apprehensive. Maya beams in excitement, while Nick puts a reassuring hand on Miles' shoulder

Miles: Alright, so what is this exactly?

Nick: She's a pop musician Maya really likes

Maya: You promised you'd let me show you, and it's legally binding because you said it in a court room!

Miles: That is not how the law works Ms. Fey

Maya: Shh just listen!

We see a panel of Miles' pensive face concentrating as he listens to "Hot to Go". He thinks to himself "hm".

Another panel zoomed in more. His pensive expression has grown more tense/confused as he listens to "Red Wine Supernova". he again thinks to himself "Hm" in a larger thought bubble.

We zoom out again to see Nick, Miles, and Maya standing together again. Miles stares forward blankly, eyebrows raised. Maya excitedly leans in.

Maya: Ok, that's her whole discography. So! What did you think?

Nick looks at him, waiting for his response

We get a panel of Miles, looking bewildered. He starts to speak "I..."

We cut again to see the three of them standing together.

Miles: I... don't think I like women?

Miles looks shocked and confused. Nick is bent over laughing, using a hand on Miles's shoulder to support himself. Maya looks outraged and appalled!

Maya: MR. EDGEWORTH! Just because you don' like her musi it doesn't give you an excuse to be sexist!

We see a panel of Miles looking stressed and confused. He leans his head on one of his hands, which messes up his hair, showing how he isn't his normal put together self.

Miles: I should rephrase that. What I mean is, Ms. Roan is clearly VERY assured in her feelings towards women. I was... unaware that anyone felt that strongly. I thought we all viewed these things with a vague sense of distaste and unease but collectively ignored it. Like how we do with climate change.

We zoom out again to see the three of them. Miles stands in the middle looking deeply uncomfortable and lost in thought, vibrating with unease. Nick and Maya exchange deeply concerned glances across from him.

With lingering unease, Miles begins to walk away.

Miles: Well, I should be going then. Goodnight.

Nick hesitantly raises a finger to point out an inaccuracy in that statement

Nick: It's four in the afternoon-

he gets interrupted by Miles who repeats firmly: I said Goodnight

Nick looks in the direction Miles walked off in.

Nick: ...He'll be ok, right?

Maya reassures him: Of cours Nick! I mean, what's the worst that can happen?

Jump cut to a closeup of Nick's hand holding Miles' letter which reads Miles Edgeworth chooses death in all caps. Then, below in smaller font, it says Also femininomenon was really good, thanks.

We see a panel of Nick glaring wordlessly at Maya as he holds the letter in his hand. Maya leans against the wall and looks away, whistling, trying to look innocent to avoid blame.

As a bonus, we also have a page that takes place a year later. Miles and Nick stand talking. Miles looks calmer now, and Nick smiles encouragingly.

Miles: In my time in Europe, I've been examining myself and my approach to law. Ultimately, the most important focus must be justice. We owe it to ourselves and to the people we serve

Nick: Wow, that's really inspiring Edgeworth. And, uh, hows the... the other thing going?

We get a zoomed in panel of Miles glaring menacingly at a suddenly nervous Nick

Jumping out again, Miles turns his back to Nick as he continues to talk

Miles: So as I was saying, justice is truly so important...

Nick nervously rubs the back of his neck wearing an awkward expression as he sweats nervously. He thinks to himself internally "Ooookay then, clearly still working through some things there"

/.End ID]