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versussystem2 · 1 year ago

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CHAPTER2: SEVER THE BLOODLINE Content #2

BLOCK9: INSIGNIFICANCE VERSUS SIGNIFICANCE CHAPTER 2: SEVER THE BLOODLINE Part01 SECOND ATTEMPT TO POST IT UP

Table of Contents: Part1:

Introduction

Caught In 3 Stories

Spiral of Conspiracies Part2:

Poker Phenomenon

TCG & CCG, Casino, College, and Ebay

Supernatural In My Life Part3:

The Discontinuation of Yu-Gi-Oh Tournament

Poker & DHE (Dot Hack Enemy) Conspiracy Part01

Poker & DHE (Dot Hack Enemy) Conspiracy Part02 Part4:

DHE (Dot Hack Enemy) In My Neighborhood

DHE (Dot Hack Enemy) Community Argument

Title Shot For WPPT (World Poker Pro Tour) Part5:

Drought Season In San Diego Part01

Drought Season In San Diego Part02

Meltdown

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Second Attempt To Post Up Chapter 2

As I proof read and makes changes to Content #2. I was able to post it up. So, I'll do the same for Content #3-15. Because there are things to do in my schedule, so I could only proof read and makes changes to 1 or more contents. Not all of the contents.

I'll continue to proof read and makes changes to Content #3-15. Then, post those contents up on another day.

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Caught In 3 Stories

I got caught in 3 different stories make me wanted to make my situation lesser complicated. At the same time, before I could get half of 1 of the 3 stories across to the world. I'm already got argued as A Few Bad Eggs Ruin A Bunch of Eggs. In addition, I usually write down how I feel in my journal. I don't share my journal with people. Also, I would guard my journal, so no one could read it. In a way, my surrounding have the following belief: Lesser complaining. More training and discipline.

Looking back right, I sees that back then I didn't sees that I would talks about the things I wrote down in my journal. The argument is if I didn't writes it down, then I would have been living my life without looking back. Another argument is if I didn't writes it down, then probably there won't be so much conflicts in my life.

The following are the highlights of the 3 stories I got caught in:

[Story1 Begin]

I would argues my family sees that I'm serving the most student service positions and doing the most house chores is I'm asking for more services and works. So, I don't know if my parents intended to give me more works and discipline. Or, because I asked for more works and discipline. When I'm very upset about my parents, I would writes it down in my journal.

It is pros and cons to have parents that give me a lot of services and works. The pros is the services and works are a lot of works and discipline. But, it could be argued as I'm getting more privileges. The cons is I would argues that because they are my parents, they should help me out instead of creating more weights in my life. In addition, because I already have a lot of weights in my life. My parents creating more weights in my life. I would be crushed by all the weights in my life.

I would argues that without privileges no one would read my articles, so the pros outweighed the cons. Example: Filling out the paper works for my parents would argued as I have the privileges of having the responsibilities over my parents. Even though, filling out those paper works take time from my schedule.

I would argues that in my past I would endure the following: I did all of my community services and house chores. Also, doing some of the works for my parents. At the same time, I'm getting punishments from my parents. My reason for enduring my parents' punishing me is because of getting privileges in my life.

The argument is the enduring of my parents' punishments distinguished me from people who are getting along with their parents. Because of this argument, another person who been away from his or her parents would argued that I lack the understanding of not able to sees that person is missing out on not able to spend time with his or her parents.

Furthermore, this argument would continue by arguing that I would focus on the differences between getting punishments from my parents and people who parents are not around. Instead of I'm getting a lot more privileges than that person.

[Story1 End]

[Story2 Begin]

The argument is in Story1, I don't gives anyone a chance to help me. The argument in Story2 is because I got the most first places in the San Diego tournaments among the players who are in the same game rooms as me. Also, I won most of the time in the games. Mean I don't gives anyone a chance to win against me.

People foresees that I would argues that I'm only follows the requirement. Example: I would argues that I'm only following: My accumulation of 199 first places. Standardizing the events I'm in based on the number of first places I got. Also, the goals in my schedule.

Because of this foresight people would purposely creates conflicts to my schedule. Also, stop me from getting first places. So, I don't says that I'm only following the requirements. Example: Because winning (including getting first places in the tournaments) take more than following the requirement. So, it doesn't seem right for me to win all the time. At the same time, I would said that I'm only following the requirement.

[Story2 End]

[Story3 Begin]

Video games and Trading Card Game (TCG) & Collectible Card Game (CCG) are consider as play time and leisure activities. Education, career, and training are consider as discipline.

The argument is I'm doing so well on education, career, and training. So, I degenerated education, career, and training when I started playing video games and TCG & CCG.

I'm making the video game activities and TCG & CCG activities into my career.

The argument against me is there is no way out for me. If people wanted to give me a break by not seeing my life as #1 and #2. Then, I'm caught in the video games and TCG & CCG conspiracies. Example1: I chooses to play video games and TCG & CCG. Such as I wanted to be like the stories in those video games and TCG & CCG. Example2: I'm degenerating the video game industry and TCG & CCG industry, because I'm addicted to playing video games and TCG & CCG.

This argument would led to the following: 1. Video games and TCG & CCG is creating more arguments to life. Instead of it is my career. 2. I'm being blamed for the degeneration of the video game industry and TCG & CCG industry.

[Story3 End]

Life Without Journalism Argument: This argument is just live my life without journalism. Without journalism in my life mean living my life without looking back at my life. If I'm not looking back at my life. Then, I won't sees that during my past, my surrounding have the following belief: Lesser complains. More discipline and training.

Attack On Both Sides: Side1: Side1 would argues I don't get to chooses to cut down my family tree. People are glad to make me wanted to cut down my family tree. Side2: Side2 would argues my family tree would stop me from cutting down my family tree.

The argument against me is I don't have enough time to deals with Life Without Journalism Argument, Attacks On Both Sides, and A Few Bad Eggs Ruin a Bunch of Eggs. This mean I'm not going to have enough time to look into those 3 stories.

Like I wrote in Story3 highlight, I'm caught in the films, video games, and TCG & CCG conspiracies. 1. Video games and TCG & CCG is creating more arguments to life. Instead of it is my career. 2. I'm being blamed for the degeneration of the video game industry and TCG & CCG industry. Example1: I chooses to play video games and TCG & CCG. And, watch films. Such as I wanted to be like the stories in those films, video games, and TCG & CCG. Example2: I'm degenerating the film industry, video game industry, and TCG & CCG industry, because I'm addicted to playing video games and TCG & CCG. And, watching films.

These conspiracies would lead to I'm being caught in the conspiracies that my life is a story such as a story in a film, video game, or TCG & CCG. There are pros and cons being in a story. The following an example of the pros and cons: The pros is if a lot of people read the published story, then the protagonist is being recognize. The cons is the writer who wrote the story determines what happen to the protagonist. Example: The writer have control over the protagonist's life. If the writer and protagonist work together, the they could create the story together. Instead of trying to kill each other.

Caught In 1 Story Versus Caught Multiple Stories: If I got caught in the cons of 1 story, then the argument it is better than I'm being caught in the conspiracies that my life is the sum of many stories. Example: In Story1, I'm a humble servant. Also, generosity and gratitude is being practice in my surrounding. In Story2, I'm an undisputed title holder that doesn't give anyone a chance to win against me. Or, a chance to help me out. Story1 is a contradiction to Story2.

In conclusion, I don't have enough time to look into Life Without Journalism Argument, Attacks On Both Sides, A Few Bad Eggs Ruin a Bunch of Eggs, and caught in 3 stories. Example: Even though, I'm trying to look for a solution. But, the contradiction could happen to me. Instead of finding a solution, I'm creating more arguments.

In addition, because people would argues that I don't makes any sense or greatly degenerated myself. This confusion or degeneration would lead to people don't recognize me as the protagonists in the stories. Example: A person being recognize as the protagonist in the story bring fame and wealth to that person's life.

But, because I'm caught in the conspiracies that my life is the sum of the many stories. 1 story is already so much confusion and degeneration. Many stories would be overwhelming. This mean if I don't do anything about the sum of those stories, then the sum of those stories would destroy me.

So, I sees the following arguments: Life Without Journalism Argument, Attacks On Both Sides, A Few Bad Eggs Ruin a Bunch of Eggs, and caught in 3 stories. Also, I'm caught in the conspiracies that my life is the sum of many stories. As for realm traveling conflicts in my life, like I wrote in the introduction, Arowra have the power to change the outcome of realm traveler's story. As for DCSS (Database & Championship Series Standard), I have been developing DCSS starting on 2012.

In addition, like I wrote in the introduction, because of Sever the Bloodline. Hypocrisy and uncertainty. Making any kind of declaration is like self-degenerating (hurting oneself , contemplation of committing suicide). At the same time, Arowra: Spiral of Conspiracies require immediate action in order to make this concept into reality, because Arowra is a realm to rule over all the realms. So, the argument is stopping Arowra could also stop the hypocrisy and uncertainty. Also, if people take Arowra: Spiral of Conspiracies away from me, then I don't have to cut down my family tree. Because Arowra is still a concept that haven't made into reality, so it is still not too late to take Arowra away from me.

It come down to am I ready to use Arowra: Spiral of Conspiracies to deals with the realm traveling conflicts in my life. Or, go with that argument of letting someone take it away from me.

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#NENG LAM #PTTS #VERSUS SYSTEM 2 #PTTS STORE #DATABASE & CHAMPIONSHIP SERIES STANDARD #ARTISAN VERSUS STANDARD #INSIGNIFICANCE VERSUS SIGNIFICANCE #TRADING CARD GAME #TCG #COLLECTIBLE CARD GAME #CCG #CHAPTER 2 #SEVER THE BLOODLINE

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crossflux · 2 years ago

Video

youtube

“Omni” hints at the end...but don’t worry - we’re just getting started with this Progression Series!

#youtube #digimon #digital monster #omnimon #BT5 #booster pack #booster set #pack opening #bandai #card game #TCG #CCG #progression series

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linkspooky · 6 months ago

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The Next Gojo Satoru

As you've probably guessed I have a lot to say about this chapter. However, right away I want to start out by pointing out once again that the fandom is taking a mostly gojo-centric view of this chapter. Which I understand it's Gojo's body that's being puppeteered around and dehumanized in the exact same way that Kenjaku one of the sickest and most inhuman characters used Geto's body.

However I think it shouldn't be understated how shocking it is to see Yuta betray all of his values like this. The most human character who represents love in the cast has given up on the cast and betrayed someone he loves. So let's talk about what this all means for Yuta under the cut.

GOJO GETS AN F IN TEACHING.

I understand why most of the focus is on Gojo, because yes Gojo's body is the one being violated here. He's not even allowed to rest in death after fighting on the front lines against Sukuna to the point where his brain was hemmoraging in the middle of battle and he was brutally cut in half.

Considering how much horror Gojo experienced when he saw Geto's body taken from him and made into Kenjaku's pupet. Cosidering the horrible pain that Nanako and Mimiko endured just seeing Geto's body still moving around denied a good death (Nanako and Mimiko were tellingly willing to let go and not try to take revenge against Gojo for killing Geto because of their friendship even though Geto was their whole world, but they'd never forgive Kenjaku for taking his body). Considering that Gojo even went out of his way to say he wanted to kill Kenjaku / Geto on Christmas Eve again in order to give him a proper burial it's understandable how horrifying this update is.

This is also a series where the two main antagonists are parasites who take the bodies, and steal away all bodily autonomy from characters like Yuji and Megumi and then force them to do horrible things they would never do and bear witness to it, such as the slaughter at Shibuya, or the murder of Tsumiki at Megkuna's hands.

It's understandable how people had such a visceral reaction to this chapter. However, I think the fandom has a tendency to paint Gojo like he's the central victim of all of Jujutsu Society when he's both victim and perpetrator.

Gojo is someone who has only been regarded as the strongest his entire life, and been used as a tool to keep Jujutsu Society stable his entire life. Gojo is also someone who never tried to be anything other than the strongest, never tried to empathize with anyone other than those who were just as strong as he is, and who raised all of his students to be tools too.

To illustrate my point here's an incredibly similiar character from Tokyo Ghoul: Arima Kishou. They are so similiar that they're both white haired mentor characters to the protagonist, they're both the strogest in their respective worlds, and Gege straight up copied this section of panels from the Tokyo Ghoul Manga.

Arima is a breeding project, who was bred by the Washuu Family who mxies blood between humans and ghouls through a series of controlled marriages for the purpose of creating hybrid ghoul human children. Arima isn't the ideal hybrid they were looking for, but he was so ungodly talented he quickly rose to being the most powerful and well-respected investigator in the CCG.

However, this is how Arima reacts to the fact that his entire purpose in life was just to be a weapon to kill ghouls.

Arima loathes violence, he loathes being an investigator, he loathes himself most of all and designs his entire political revolution around him finally being killed by Kaneki - to punish himself and also to relieve himself of the burden of living a life where he was only meat to kill others.

Gojo on the other hand loves being the strongest, he lives for Jujutsu. Arima's death is tragic and nihilistic believing his life had no real worth because all he ever was was a weapon to hurt others, whereas Gojo died satisfied.

Arima's last battle against Kaneki is grim, silent, and tragic, he does everything he can to make Kaneki despise him, to force Kaneki to kill him by being the worst version of himself and when Kaneki still wants him to live he just slits his own throat because even if Kaneki forgives him he can't forgive himself. Gojo laughs his head off and has the time of his life fighting against Sukuna, and going out in a blaze of glory.

Gojo dies smiling, Arima dies finally breaking into tears after a life of pretedig to be cold and emotionless. Gojo's dying regret is 1) that Geto wasn't there to say goodbye to him, and 2) that he wasn't able to draw out all of Sukuna's strength. Arima's dying regret was all the pain and suffering he caused throughout his life and how he was never able to rise above his circumstances and be anything other than what he was born to be.

These two characters are incredibly similiar, they are both the strongest, and they were both made into tools by a dehumanizing system they were born into. However, their attitudes are entirely different. Gojo enjoys being strong, and yes part of it is that Gojo himself doesn't realize he's a victim or what society has groomed him into becoming, but the other part is just because it's an ego trip for him. Gojo doesn't see himself as the tragic victim his fandom makes him out to be.

If you were to transplant him into Tokyo Ghoul Gojo would be happily killing ghouls, and he would think killing ghouls is fun because he's the strongest and best at killing ghouls. This is the complexity that is Satoru Gojo, he has been dehumanized and put on a pedestal his ow life, but Gojo also enjoys being on that pedestal and won't ever step down from it willingly.

I'm not saying that Arima is a better person than Gojo. I think the fact that Gojo doesn't think of himself as a victim is tragic in its own right, because he lacks the self-awareness to actually grow and change as a person. In the end both Arima and Gojo believe they couldn't be anything better than what they were, and their only release is death which is just insanely sad to me because as long as the future exists people always have a chance to get better no matter who they are. To give up on the future, to see an early death as a good thing simply because you can't endure life any longer is one of the most hopeless things imaginable.

Gojo's not sad because he was born to be a tool exploited for society's benefit, he's sad because he was lonely. He doesn't even realize it's his own darn fault he's lonely, because not only has Shoko said that he's not alone she's always been right there, but this chapter we get a repeat of Gojo's students begging him to let them in and Gojo himself decided to draw that line between himself and others and thinking an enlightened, godlike being like himself can't possibly be understood.

All of this to say I think Gojo is the sole victim here, but he's the middle of a chain of of victimhood. I think ultimately the biggest victim here is Yuta, and yes I will not only play trauma olympics here I'm going to win.

If this chapter goes to show anything it's that Gojo has completely failed in his ideals of protecting the youth from the dehumanizing system of sorcerers that takes children and reduces them to cogs in a machine.

A lot of people criticize Jujutsu Kaisen for dropping basically all of its political elements and themes of reform in the second half after Shibuya, and while I understand the criticism I think Gege intentionally shifted away from politics because Gojo's political revolution was never going to succeed.

From the beginning Gojo's solution to reforming Jujutsu Society and it's habit of taking away the youth of children and raising them up instead as child soldiers is... to make stronger child soldiers.

This is Gojo's blindspot and it has always been Gojo's blindspot.

It's why Gojo is completely okay with someone like Mei Mei who at the best uses her brother as a human shield to get out of curse domains and has stolen his entire childhood away to make him own pet little shoulder, and at worst actively molests him.

It's why Gojo is stated in the databooks to have only taken an interest in Megumi and Yuta because they were strong.

Gojo understands that he's being exploited by Jujutsu Society, but doesn't understand you need to deconstruct unfair systems of power and exploitation in order to build something better. Gojo from the beginning only had one plan, and that was to replace the people at the top with his own allies who'd support his agenda. He just thought waiting for them to die out and the children to grow up was the more peaceful way of doing it.

Gojo's political revolution was doomed from the beginning and that's why we see him go back on his word this chapter and just slaughter everyone at the top. His choice of a new leader for Jujutsu Society is hardly better than the elders, the person who executed Gojo's teacher and tried to get all the children to kill Itadori early on. Good choice.

This is what Gojo said would happen though, if he just wiped everyone out at the top no real systemic change would occur because they'd just be replaced with someone who wasn't that differet. Gojo's just given up on the notion of lasting change out of pragmatism.

Which is why Gojo himself is not that different from the elders in the first place, not because he's a bad person but because he was shaped by that same society and he's the pinnacle of that society.

I think the thing is and this point often gets ignored - a lot of the choices the elders make are because of outdated traditions like choosing to oppress Maki and Toji just because they challenge the traditional notions of cursed energy.

However, some of the decisions they make are out of cold hard pragmatism. Gakuganji actually turned out to be right in his assassiation attempt against Yuji Itadori. If they had succesfully killed Yuji, then the massacre in Shibuya would have been prevented and likely Kenjaku's plans would have been pushed back. The elders didn't sentence Yuta to execution just to be cruel, or just because they're superstitious but because he's already had several incidents of nearly killing people because he can't control Rika.

It's easy to dismiss the Elders as evil because they're just faceless entities, but then we witness in this very same chapter the main characters making the same heartless decisions out of the same sense of pragmatism.

Gojo understands Jujutsu Society is flawed, but doesn't understand exactly why it's wrong. He doesn't raise his students to be independent free thinkers because then they might question him, he raises them to be very powerful because that's more pragmatic.

Here are the next generation of sorcerers who are going to bring about the change to Jujutsu Society that Gojo so desperately seeks.

Nobara Kugisaki: Dead

Hakari Kinji: His greatest ambition is to start a fight club

Yuji: Actively calls himself a mindless cog and just wants to kill whatever society points him at and tells him to kill.

Maki: Mass murderer.

Yuta: Just stole Gojo's body and said he had to become a monster i Gojo's place.

Megumi: Begging to be killed.

Inumaki: Tuna Mayo

Panda: Is a Panda

(Joke lovingly ripped off from @kaibutsushidousha)

I understand that fighting Sukuna takes precedence now, but do you think once the dust settles any of these characters are going to do anything to make lasting change?

Are we going to see anything for them at the end of the road other than a mountain of their fellow sorcerers corpses?

Gojo didn't nurture his students to grow into healthy adults, he raised them into stronger child soldiers and yes that's the pragmatic thing to do to help them survive in the Jujutsu World, but the elders make those decisions out of cold pragmatism as well.

MHA is also showing a story where the children are failing to learn from the previous generatio's mistakes, but it's far less frustrating to watch in JJK because it almost seems like that's the point?

Maki sacrificed Mai for the sake of becoming someone strong enough to reform the Zen'in Clan, only for her sister to die and Maki to slaughter the rest of her family failing in both her goals to reform her clan and protect Mai.

Yuji became the host of Sukuna in order to help others, because the total deaths of people in the world would go down if he ate all the fingers. Not only did that decision lead to the death of thousands in Shibuya, but he's even lost his role of being Sukuna's host to Megumi.

Yuta wanted to find a reason to live and a purpose in protecting his friends, and also wanted to pay back the man who saved him, not only is Yuta choosing to die in a way that breaks his friends heart he's also violating his beloved teacher's bodies.

There's a lot of arcs like this where characters fail in what they set out to accomplish, because like in most tragedies they don't try to grow as people they only care about getting stronger. It's the same choice over ad over again, a decision made of cold pragmatism that brings about their tragic ending.

I think it speaks to why systems like this perpetuate themselves, because it becomes so hard to hold onto your humanity that even trying gets you actively punished all the while people like Mei Mei crawl to the top. However, even if you throw your humanity away purely as an act of survival you're still helping perpetuate that system instead of fighting against it.

Anyway, that's enough hating on Gojo, onto the main event.

THE NEXT GOJO SATORU.

It's almost masterful how perfect the foreshadowing for this chapter's twist was. Yuta sharing a common ancestor in Sugawara with Gojo.

The irony that Kenjaku said out loud that someone like Yuta could never become Gojo, on top of the fact that Yuta's true power comes from detaining his loved ones soul. He's turning Gojo's body into a weapon the same way that he once used Rika's vengeful cursed spirit as one (he even channels her strength into a sword, the same way Maki uses the sword that Mai gave her life to create in battle).

The way that Yuji's first impression of Yuta from his powerful presence and cursed energy alone was calling him someone even creepier than Gojo.

The idea that Kenjaku has been trying to get his hands on the six-eyes for years, which is what led most of the fandom to theorize a possible Kenjaku return by stealing Gojo's corpse. The fact Tengen said the six eyes, himself and the star plasma vessel are all connected and one time Kenjaku killed the six-eyes from a child only for another one to appear right away.

Yuta being told he could never reach Sukuna's heights because he lacks the selfishness of a calamity.

Even Yuta trying to tell a nameless assassin Uro to be less selfish, only to be chastised by her for not understanding because it's impossible for someone as blessed as he is to know what it's like to not have a name, to not have a face, to not be someone important.

Now here Yuta is, not only is he making the selfish decision to use his teacher's body as a tool, he's also most likely in five minutes going to die in someone else's body, having sacrificed not only his name, and face, but also his personal values in order to become a monster.

This arc makes it seem like Yuta's gone against everything he's stood for, making his arc a complete circle from Jujutsu Kaisen Zero and that's kind of the point. Heck, even something as small as Yuta's decision to show mercy to Ishigori was rendered pointless because Sukuna immediately killed him soon after taking Megumi's body.

If Yuta's regressed in his character it's because Gojo's purpose was not to raise these children into healthy adults, but strong soldiers.

What happened to Yuta is a direct consequence of the way Gojo recruits these children, and the underhanded motivations he has behind those recruitments.

Yuta's decision to take Gojo's body is more tragic on Yuta's part then it is on Gojo's, because Yuta is a child, and Gojo is an adult.

It is sad that Gojo is all alone, that he's forced to become a tool to society, but Yuta shouldn't be the one who feels responsible for that. Gojo is supposed to protect Yuta, he's the adult, the teacher, the one with power and Yuta is the child. Yuta is not the one who should be making this speech because it is not Yuta's responsibility to do any of this - but Yuta thinks it is because he owes Gojo.

However, when Gojo recruits people it's with the unspoken implication that they now owe him. He wants them to feel indebted, because then they'll be easier to use as pieces in his intended political revolution. We see this blatantly with the way he recruited Megumi.

I'll make sure you and your sister don't starve but you owe me in the form of labor later on in your life.

Gojo saved Yuta because he thought Rika was powerful and the elders were foolish for executing a potentially powerful sorcerer for THE GREATER GOOD instead of teaching him to control his power out of fear. Gojo recruited Yuji, because someone with Sukuna's power and who could eat his fingers as a vessel had the makings to be an incredibly powerful sorcerer. Gojo didn't even think of Megumi until after Geto defected, and Gojo decided he needed to start making changes to Jujutsu Society.

While Gojo's pragmatism is understandable to a point it also poisons his more nobler intentions. Since Gojo expects payment in return when he sticks his neck out for people, because these children are assets first and children secod.

I think Gojo likes Yuta. I think he gets along with him well. Yuta clearly respects him as a mentor. He did in fact go to great lengths to save Yuta from execution. He was right that it was more ethical to teach Yuta to control his powers rather than execute him for the danger he might represet. He even gives Yuta emotional advice a couple of times.

However, if Yuta was just like a grade 4 sorcerer with no special talent I doubt Gojo would have blinked at his execution. He sees Yuta for his talent first, and his potential to become someone like him. If anythig there are clear comparisons to both Megumi and Yuta. They're both prodigies born with incredible techniques, but Yuta is a lot more receptive to Gojo's grooming than Megumi is who's too traumatized to function. Gojo's not just grooming Yuta into being a powerful sorcerer, but another version of himself.

So it's almost karmic that not only does Yuta basically turn his back on everything that makes Yuta himself (his love for people, his desire to live and be surrounded by others), he also does so by literally becoming Satoru Gojo and transplanting his brain into Gojo's body.

Because Yuta is despite possessing a similiar level of talent as far from Gojo as possible. Gojo is not well liked by his comrades, he's there because he's needed due to his power. Yuta on the other hand has everyone vehemently disagreeing with his backup plan in the event of Gojo's death because they don't want to lose him.

People need Gojo, they want Yuta because of the connections that Yuta has made with them and because they care about Yuta as a person. Gojo is someone who deliberately draws a line between himself and others because he believes the strongest can't be comprehended, Yuta only fights for the sake of being accepted by others because he needs their approval in order to live.

Yuta's now turned his back on those two things, his tendency to put his loved ones first, and his desire to live, both because he feels he owes Gojo.

This comes about because of two factors, number one Gojo helping him with the implication that this help means that Yuta owes him something which makes Yuta desperate to pay him back and therfore easy to mold, and number two Gojo's intentions to begin with to take Yuta and make another Gojo out of him. To make a successor who would carry on the same burdens that Gojo did.

Gojo succeeded one hundred percent in making his successor as opposed to Megumi who turned out to be too different from Gojo i the end. He took what make Yuta unique and ironed out all those wrinkles until he was left with someone willing to make the same inhumane, pragmatic decisions that Gojo was.

I think it's tragic that as much as Gojo wanted to make things better for the next generation, he basically led Yuta down the same road he did, to make the same choice to throw his humanity away along with all of his loved ones. Especially since Yuta started out in such a different place.

Yuta has learned to become selfish like Gojo, because selfishness is apparently now the only way to get by in this world. A cycle that has been started with the elders, and continued on with Gojo, remains unbroken as Yuta becomes just another link in the chain. Yuta's likely going to die in a stranger's body, leaving all of his friends behind to mourn him, but even if he lives what life will that be exactly?

It speaks to the arcs in Jujutsu Kaisen that they're all kind of circles at this point. We have this heartwarming goodbye of Rika telling Yuta to live, and Yuta's whole arc was to learn to try to live without Rika and make new friends, but it's now likely goig to end with Yuta dying a year after Rika finally moved on.

Choso was told to try living on as a human and Yuki even sacrificed her life to give him the opportuity to escape the fight, and he only lived a month longer to die right in front of Yuji's eyes.

Gojo put all of his hope in the next generation, but now not only did he put all the power in Gakuganji's hands but he ended up dying a year after Geto did just like Yuta will likely die a year after Rika.

I think these character arcs are turning out to be circles because the characters aren't actually doing anything to try to break the cycles that they're trapped inside of - they're only trying to get stronger. Which is why they end up resembling the actions of the villains, Yuji becoming more curselike, Yuta stealing Gojo's body the way Kenjaku did with Geto's.

It reminds me of a quote from Critical Role that I absolutely adore.

“I have just taken an audience with the Raven Queen who has snuffed any hope of my redemption, for which I am truly grateful. With new clarity, I can finally see my life as a series of compounding, poor choices.” Vax winces. “There was nothing I could’ve done to save my family, yet I still sold my soul in search of vengeance. Later I allowed Ripley to leave, knowing full well she was a greater threat to the world than the Briarwoods would ever be. I traded the world’s safety for the belief that I could murder my way to peace; that if I could be a greater horror, it would bring my family back. And once this lie was shattered I scrambled to find asolution, to make a deal, to undo my mistakes and balance the scales. I nowunderstand that there are no scales, there is no redemption, and no ledger that judges me good or evil. I am free to simply be myself and live with the terrible mistakes I’ve made."

Especially this sentence: I believed I could murder my way to peace; that if I could be a greater horror, it would bring my family back.

Maki is a character that I have not found all that interesting in a while because she committed such a huge mass murder, only for it to have no consequences in the narrative and never be mentioned again, but this chapter she suddenly became an interesting character again.

Maki who lost everything but gained strength, doesn't seem all that bothered by the loss. People compare Megumi's reaction to losing Tsumiki to Maki's reaction to losing Mai, but Megumi's reaction is much more interesting because it's always better to see a character be weak and fall apart then to be strong and power through things.

However, maybe the reason Maki hasn't experienced any grief at all towards Mai and has instead delighted in her newfound strength and independence is because of this, because she still had Yuta.

Maki is a character who's not really said anything other than exposition the past like twenty chapters, but now she's the most vocally against Yuta sacrificing himself for the greater good. Yet this is against Maki's own ideology of doing everything you can to be stronger, to win. Maki was always about individualism, not about friendship or the bonds between others, she severed her own bonds to be free. Yet, she can't stand to see Yuta do the same thing as her, to become more like her.

This might be the consequence of Maki's continued choice to value freedom and the power to achieve that freedom over all else. Now, the one time Yuta is trying to throw away the same things that she threw away she can't say anything meaningful or convince him to stop him.

Which reminds painfully of this chapter as well.

Mai killing herself in order to free Maki from cursed energy is an obvious parallel to Sukuna devouring his own twin in the womb, but the difference is in this situation Maki didn't want Mai to go, she begged her not to. However, just like with Yuta there was nothing Maki could ahve said or done by that point to convince Mai to stay. Maki has always chosen power over her sister, she's always abandoned Mai, so what exactly can she say to convince her that she cares more about Mai more? That her dream of defeating the Zen'in and having revenge against them isn't worth the price if it comes at the sacrifice of Mai?

Maki didn't want to abandon Mai, or for Mai to sacrifice herself, but tragically her every action indicated otherwise. It all comes down to this: I believed I could murder my way to peace; that if I could be a greater horror, it would bring my family back.

Maki seems to have achieved peace by murdering the Zen'in, but we see the same kind of circular arc that we have for Yuta.

Maki gave up on everything for strength, but Maki's not strong enough to finish Sukuna then and there, forcing Yuta to sacrifice himself the same way Mai did.

Maki can't talk Yuta out of making that sacrifice, or come up with any convincing argument with why he shouldn't because of all the choices she's made before this.

Maki chose to murder her way to peace, but it came at the cost of her humanity and growth and thus she's faced again with the exact same situation with Mai and she's forced to watch her heart be taken from her again.

It goes to show that we think these characters are getting stronger but they're actually sacrificing something vitally important.

These characters are just going to keep going around in circles and you have to wonder just when is it going to stop?

#yuta okkotsu #gojo satoru #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen meta #yutamaki #jujutsu kaisen theory #jjk 261 #jujutsu kaisen 261 #jjk 261 spoilers #jujutsu kaisen 261 spoilers

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strxwbloody · 6 months ago

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BEHIND A FACADE | the series

"There is a shadow of truth behind every smile, behind every song. But what happens when the veil of the facade falls, revealing the darkest secrets that lie behind the stage of our lives?"

ghoul!enhypen x ccg!reader [afab]

genre: horror, e2l, reverse harem (though it seems centered on Jungwon, but it is not so), dark themes, nsfw (mdni)

warning: drawn up in future chapters

please remember that this is a work of fiction, nothing is to be practiced or represents anyone in reality.

Synopsis: Song y/n is a determined and hardworking young woman, ready to follow in her father’s footsteps by becoming an investigator in the Commision of Counter Ghoul (CCG) in Seoul. However, her enthusiasm is thwarted by traumatic memories of the ghoul attack that ripped her mother’s life away and marked her childhood. Growing up unaware of the existence of ghouls, y/n only discovers this terrible reality through tragedy.

Now, years later, she's ready to start her career in the CCG, but the past comes back to haunt her when her friend Molan mysteriously disappears during a concert of the popular band Enhypen and y/n begins to suspect that there is something dark behind the band’s sparkling facade.

Determined to discover the truth, y/n plunges into a dangerous investigation that will bring her face to face with her past and Jungwon, an old childhood friend who is now part of the Enhypen. Unlike his bandmates, Jungwon is a guy with a complex ethic, divided between his nature and his humanity.

United by childhood memories and a cruel fate, y/n and Jungwon find themselves on opposite sides but irresistibly attracted to each other. As y/n tries to unravel the conspiracies behind the disappearances and stop the threat of ghouls, she discovers that Jungwon is not quite like his bandmates, and a complex relationship begins to develop between them and the rest of the other guys.

Each step brings her closer to the truth, but it also puts her at risk of losing everything she holds most dear.

You will be dragged on an exciting journey where the line between good and evil dissolves into darkness, and where y/n will have to choose between her duty or her heart.

A/N: I state that English is not my first language. This is not the first time I tried to write something about ghouls, the other "works" abandoned if we can say it will be deleted. I hope this is a motivation to keep writing. In addition, along with the work will also be published special illustrations of the characters made by me, at the moment in the process. Here if you want I published the 𐃘 Sunoo one. ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

⤷ [illustrations wip] ⤷ [TAGLIST OPEN SOON] If you want to be tagged you can write below the post or send me requests with anonymous disabled if possible, I will consider accounts with a certain age on bio. I will also consider a perm list. ♡

⤷ [navigation]

All content on this blog, including but not limited to text, images, graphics, video, and other media, is the property of @strxwbloody unless otherwise stated. This content may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, modified or used in any way without the express consent of the author.

If you would like to use or share any of my content, please contact me first to get permission.

Thank you for respecting my intellectual property and for supporting my creative work.

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iwasntstable · 14 days ago

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𝗡.𝗦. | 𝗡𝗢𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗚𝗢 | 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

Series Summary: You knew the decision to follow your father into the so-called 'most dangerous Ward' was a dangerous one, but you had to do anything and everything possible to keep him alive. He's the only family you have left. Growing evermore reckless after the death of your mother and blinded by his lust for retribution, this decision is one that will alter the course of your life forever. And the life of a half-ghoul half-human who never thought he'd find himself entangled with the daughter of a former CCG Investigator.

NOWHERE TO GO is a multi-chapter story set in the Tokyo Ghoul universe, centring around Half-Ghoul!Noah and Human!Reader.

Chapter Content Tags: Graphic depictions of gore including: treatment of wounds, administration of stitches, blood, mentions of bruising, mentions of an attack. Depictions of anxiety.

Word Count: 6k.

Note: please be aware this story is set in the universe of Tokyo Ghoul, before the events of the manga and anime. it will, however, contain references to content found in the source material. specific content warnings will always be applied at the beginning of each chapter.

✶ [join the NOWHERE TO GO taglist.] ⓘ [GLOSSARY]

➔read on AO3➔➔ PREV　/　NEXT [coming soon..]

CREDIT › image — 'Tokyo Ghoul:re - Chapter 54' - 石田スイ (Sui Ishida). › number divider — @saradika-graphics. › image edit — @iwasntstable (me). › star divider — @saradika-graphics. › short grey divider — @saradika-graphics. › Tokyo Ghoul — created by 石田スイ (Sui Ishida).

“We just keep running into each other,” he smiles that same smile that made your heart skip a beat in the café, but instead of giving you butterflies, this time it fills you with dread.

You say nothing, words failing you entirely. All you can do is stare. His wide brown eyes inspect you back just as closely. How could it be him? The kind man from the bookstore café that encouraged you and asked your name—the same man who was now stained with blood and tried to kill your father twice. Noah.

His eyes flit to your arm, then back to your face. “You’re injured,” he states calmly. The reminder of the wound causing it to sting and throb under your clothes. You press your hand to it defensively, a weak spot you wanted to defend. “Let me help?” He offers, hands raised with palms facing you.

“Why would you do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Once again, you’re lost for words. The answer to that question was so glaringly obvious, you almost couldn’t believe he asked it. “Look, I’ll call a friend here who’s better at stitching wounds than I am, and then you can leave. But in exchange, I’d like you to answer some of my questions.”

“Leave? You’re not… keeping me here?”

Confusion crosses his features. “What? No. I’m not kidnapping you or anything. You can leave whenever you want,” his expression softens. “You’re injured. I wasn’t just going to leave you bleeding in the street. I want to help, and I want to talk.”

You mull over your options in your mind. There’s no way you could run, not with your current injuries, and fighting your way out without a weapon is out of the question too. He said you could leave, but you’re not sure if you believe that. What could a ghoul possibly stand to gain from letting a human live?

Noah notices your hesitation, opens the front door, and steps aside. “Go. This isn’t a trick. I’m not going to chase you down. I only want to help and ask you my questions. I’m sure you must have questions for me too.”

He was right. A million questions raced in your mind—so many you didn’t even know which to prioritise. And you didn’t know how much longer you could stay on your feet before your legs buckled again. “Okay,” you concede.

Noah nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m going to text my friend, okay? He’ll be able to take a look at your arm. His name is Nick.” He pulls his phone from his pocket, no idea how it survived the skirmish in the alley. You eye it cautiously, that uneasy feeling in your bruised stomach telling you this was still some kind of trap. “Just one person,” Noah reassures. “Nobody else.”

You nod, though you have no way of knowing you could trust him, and he types out a message, slipping his phone away again once he’d hit send. He closes the front door again, leaving it unlocked, then crosses the room towards the couch with wide strides, pulling the plastic sheet from the furniture and screwing it into a ball to toss it into the corner. “Sit, if you’d like.”

You didn’t trust him, but you had to take your weight off your feet. You allow yourself to hold onto the back of the couch for support as you move around the couch, lowering yourself carefully, every fibre of your body protesting every miniscule movement. With the strain finally off your body, you feel immediate relief, but though you were sitting, your breath still felt laboured. Fatigue moved in like a dense fog.

“There’s no food here, but can I get you some water?” Noah asks, standing several paces away from you. You nod, too tired to speak and knowing refusing his offer would only serve to worsen your condition.

He moves to the kitchen, shedding his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair, those tattooed arms you’d noticed in the café on full display in his t-shirt. He opens a couple of cupboards before finally finding one with a glass inside. The kitchen was just as empty as the front room, a basic wooden table with two chairs, and a couple of appliances on the counters. He rinses the glass in the sink, then brings it full of water over to you, handing it over carefully. You try to stifle the tremor in your hand when you reach out to take it.

“Do you mind if I sit too?” He asked as you took a large mouthful.

His politeness confused you. Why was a creature so violent and dangerous being so courteous and respectful? You didn’t understand his motivations; what could he possibly stand to gain? Despite your doubts, you nod again, gesturing to the space beside you.

He takes the spot next to you, angled to face you. “Can I see your arm?” He asks.

With nothing to lose—except probably your life—you take another sip of the water, place the glass on the ground, and pop the buttons of your jacket with your good hand, shrugging the garment off and cautiously pulling it down your injured arm. As the fabric descends, it reveals your entire arm is stained red with blood right down to your fingertips. You’d assumed that was from the wounds on your hands.

The cut itself was long; you couldn’t see exactly how long from the angle, but it appeared to be around four inches in length, starting towards the front of your bicep and twisting downwards around the side towards your elbow. The deepest part was definitely at the centre of the wound; your arm did nothing to block the path of the ukaku ghouls’s shards as it sliced right through you like a hot knife to butter.

“It’s quite deep,” Noah said as he peered closer without touching. “I’d say I’m surprised you’re not more injured, but I’ve seen you fight,” he said, looking up, and his eyes met yours, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You ask, dumbfounded.

“Something like that,” he chuckled to himself, lowering his head. When he looks back up, his gaze lingers on your neck. “I’m sorry I let that guy grab you. I didn’t think he had anything left in him. That was my mistake.” He reaches out like he’s going to brush your hair away from your shoulder and get a closer look, but hesitates before he can touch you, pulling his hand back to his lap.

He seemed almost shy. A far cry from the monster that tore a man’s throat out with his teeth right in front of your eyes. You couldn’t deny the urge to trust him was growing. His tousled brown hair and respectful demeanour brought you right back to when you served him in the café, his soft laugh when you thanked him for ordering an easy coffee—the kind of person you’d be happy spending time with, someone you wanted to get to know better. But that image in your mind was swiftly replaced by the figure from your nightmare. His silhouette looming over you before he chooses whether you live or die. Despite his mask, he was still covered in blood.

A rapid knock on the door breaks your train of thought. Turning to look over your shoulder, a man with long, wavy, dark hair carrying a duffle bag steps into the apartment. Noah stands, approaching the man and patting him on the shoulder in a half embrace. “This is Nick. You have both met before,” Noah introduces his friend, stepping behind him to close the door.

“I don’t think I could forget,” he laughed. “You really carved me up on the bridge. I was limping all the way back.” The bikaku ghoul.

You followed him with your eyes as he walked further into the room, rounding the couch to sit next to you in the place Noah was, resting the bag between his feet. “That looks nasty... Ukaku, yeah?” he remarks as he gets a look at the laceration. You nod while he inspects the area. “Deep too. Any other injuries?” He asks as he leans down to unzip the bag.

“No,” you say quietly as he rummages, pulling out a pristine white case and several packages of gauze pads, resting them on his knees.

“I can stitch this for you. Luckily, it’s a clean cut. It should heal well if you look after it,” he says, meeting your intense gaze with softness, offering a smile. You couldn’t understand how this was the same man that struck you in the middle and sent you skidding across the bridge.

“Why would you help me?” you ask, unable to contain the disbelief.

“Because you need it. Or, can you stitch this yourself?” He smirks with a joking tone. You laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Two ghouls that want to help you and not kill you. With a shake of your head, you hold your arm out for Nick to work on. “Okay,” he pats the objects on his lap. “I’ll wash my hands, sterilise the area, then get started. I have some pain relief medication that might make it easier.” You shake your head ‘no’, still not trusting the pair and definitely not trusting any medication they claim would help.

“Consider it,” Noah says from the kitchen, where he was crouched down rummaging through the cupboards. “You did get pretty beat up last night too.”

“Sorry about that, by the way,” Nick says, pushing his hair out of his face as he stands and heads for the sink. “What are you looking for?” He asks Noah, scraping his hair all the way back and securing it into a bun.

“I swear we had coffee in this place. Did Folio take it again?”

“It’s right there by the microwave,” Nick nods in the direction from the sink, and Noah takes the tin, grasping it firmly in hand with a wide smile on his face.

“What would I do without you?” He claps Nick on the shoulder as he passes him in the small space to retrieve a saucepan, filling it with water after Nick steps away from the sink to come back to you. Through the tear in the bottom of Noah’s shirt made by his kagune, you notice a hint of ink on his lower back too.

“That packet there, can you tear it open?” he asks, nodding again towards his bag, hands dripping water on his knees. The package was a sterile towel. You rip the plastic, careful not to touch the cloth with your bloodied and dirtied hands, and hold it out for Nick to take and dry his hands with. Once dry, he reaches into the bag and pulls out a pair of blue latex gloves, snapping them on securely. “Alright, I’ll clean the area a little first. It’s gonna sting,” he warns, the conversation ringing eerily similar to the one you had with your father when he crashed in through the front door two nights ago. He unscrews the cap on the bottle and soaks a gauze pad with the brown liquid. “Let us know if you change your mind about the meds,” he says before dabbing the pad lightly onto the wound.

He was right; the sting was bad. Gritting your teeth against the burn, you try not to move or flinch away from the pain. As a welcome distraction, the warm aroma of coffee fills the air. You look over to Noah in the kitchen, pouring the water boiled from the stove into three mugs. He brings them over carefully and sets them down on the empty floor, sitting cross-legged opposite the couch.

“So, what are your questions?” You ask him, anxious to get this over with.

His eyes move from where Nick is working on your wound to your face. He takes one of the mugs, leaning forward to place it by Nick’s feet, then takes the third and holds it out, the handle facing you. You hesitate for a moment, but decide against your better judgement. The fatigue was worsening, and you needed to try to stay as alert as possible.

“Why is the CCG moving in on this area?” He asks when he settles back down, taking his own cup and resting it in his lap.

You blink rapidly in confusion, “I didn’t know they were.”

“You’ve been assigned to this area, though?”

“No,” you clarify. “I don’t work for the CCG, and neither does my dad. Not anymore at least.” You take a sip of the black coffee, relishing in the way the liquid warms your aching insides. The flavourful bitterness is a welcome taste on your tongue.

“How do you have quinque weapons if you’re not Investigators?” A crease was prominent in his brow.

“My dad stole them. One is his, the other was my mother’s.”

The sting intensified in your arm as Nick cleaned the deepest part of the wound. You shifted uncomfortably in an attempt to distract yourself.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Almost done with this part.”

“What was the medication you had?” You ask as you scrunch your face up in pain. Maybe it would be a good idea to accept pain relief. Maybe it would work to soothe the rest of your body too.

“It’s just standard over-the-counter stuff from the pharmacy, right?” Noah asks Nick, kneeling forward to rummage through the bag.

“Yeah. Front pocket,” he replies without looking up.

Fishing through the material, Noah retrieves a familiar branded package of painkillers. He holds it up and nods towards you, asking silently if you wanted to take it. You nod and place the mug of coffee momentarily between your knees as Noah pulls a blister strip from the box. He pops two from the packaging and hands them over into your open palm.

“Your hands got fucked up too,” he mentions while you throw the pills into your mouth. Chasing them down with a sip of coffee.

“That happened yesterday,” you say, holding out your palm in front of you to inspect the damage. The reopened small abrasions were visible under a layer of dirt and blood.

“I can clean those up for you too after this,” Nick says, putting a gauze pad aside to click open the white case. He takes out a sterile needle from its packaging and threads it with the suture wire with ease. Nothing like your shaky hands. “Okay. Ready?” He asks. You nod, taking another mouthful of coffee, really wishing it were laced with a shot of something stronger.

The pull of the needle through your skin wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be. A slight scratchy-burning sensation as he weaved the needle in and out of your flesh, looping the thread around itself and pulling firmly to secure the two sides of the wound closed.

“How did your dad steal three quinques from the CCG?” Noah continued his line of questioning. You had to be honest; it was a welcome distraction. Even if the subject matter wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“He worked there for a decade. When my mother died and they forced him into retirement, he took a bunch of files along with the quinques. I think everyone respected him too much to argue with a grieving man.”

Noah nodded, deep in thought. He sipped his coffee before continuing. “Why are you here?”

“My father is looking for someone,” you bite the inside of your cheek.

“Who?”

“A ghoul.”

“Who?” Noah persists. You sigh, closing your eyes. How much information was too much information? “Look, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. We, my friends and I, keep track of all the ghouls in the 13th Ward and all the Doves. "When two doves move in, we want to know why, for the safety of everyone here.”

“Why?” Was your turn to ask. Was this guy some kind of mafia boss? You don’t miss the glance Nick takes from your arm towards Noah.

He takes another sip of coffee. “Innocents get hurt when the wrong people, or the wrong ghouls, are in charge.”

“And you’re the right people? Or, the right ghouls?” You question.

“I’d like to think we are.”

You nod thoughtfully, bringing your mug to your lips.

“Answer me this, at least,” he poses, “are we the ghouls your father is after?”

You shake your head; that face reappears in your mind. “No.”

The room falls silent, a surprisingly comfortable silence as Nick works diligently at your wound. He was almost halfway done now.

“So, what is this place anyway?” You ask, looking around the almost empty room.

“One of our safehouses. We have a lot spread out over the Ward,” Noah clarifies simply.

“One of? How many do you have?” Maybe this guy was a mafia boss after all...

He chuckles under his breath and fiddles with the mug in his hands. “A few. We let ghouls that have nowhere else to go live in them mostly. Or use them ourselves.”

“So, you’re housing the homeless when you’re not ripping people’s throats out with your teeth?” You question sarcastically.

“Did you really do that, dude?” Nick’s hands pause, and he looks up at Noah, amused disgust on his face.

“What was I supposed to do?” He gestures with one hand, eyebrows raised in defence, “just let that ghoul eat you? He wasn’t even supposed to be in this area, anyway.”

Nick shakes his head, a small piece of hair falling free from his bun by the side of his head, and continues stitching your arm. “Who was it?”

“The guy we caught like, four months ago, I think. Shame he didn’t take us up on our offer,” he sighs, sipping his coffee again.

“What offer?” You look between the two.

“We explained we’d be more than happy to get him the food he needs to survive, but in exchange, he couldn’t hunt around here anymore. He wasn’t a fan,” Noah explains.

“Yeah, flipped our table and smashed a window on the way out. Fuck that guy.”

“So housing and feeding the homeless, you’re real philanthropists,” you laugh, sipping from your mug. Until the realisation hits you exactly what kind of food these guys were talking about. This wasn’t a group of good samaritans cooking extra meals in their kitchens to hand out on the streets to those in need. They were feeding ghouls. They were ghouls. You had to remember where you were; remember not to get lulled into a false sense of security, no matter how easy and casual the conversation may be.

“So,” Noah breaks your train of thought, “if you don’t mind me asking, if it’s your father that’s looking for a ghoul here, why did you come too?”

You lower your eyes to your lap and pick at the rim of the ceramic mug. That’s a question you've been asking yourself a lot these past few days. “He’s my dad,” you say quietly with a shrug, regretting it when the cut in your arm stings. “I can’t just leave him alone. He’s all I have.”

Noah nods. “I understand that.”

“Last three, then this is done.” You look down at your arm, and in place of the gaping wound was a neat line of stitches, way neater than anything you’d ever done on your father and definitely neater than what you could’ve done on yourself.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I really appreciate this.”

“You’re welcome,” Nick smiles up at you as he ties off the final stitch. “Noah, can you get out some more gauze pads so I can fix her hands?"

He wordlessly places his mug down and kneels in front of the bag, rummaging through to find what Nick needs. “These ones?” He asks, holding up some packages.

“Yeah, and can you get- Can I see your hands for a sec?” He asks as he takes a pair of scissors from the white case and snips the suture. You turn your hands over and get a good look at the state of your palms. Nick takes them gently and angles them this way and that. "Yeah, it’s just scrapes, not too bad. We can just clean and bandage them. Can you get the roll of white gauze, the bigger brown roll, and the tape? Oh, and a large plaster.”

Noah rummages for the items, tearing open the packages and setting them in the white case within arms reach for Nick. "Thanks, dude,” he says, reaching down for his mug of coffee that must be lukewarm by now. Regardless, he takes three big gulps, then sets it back on the floor. First, he applies the plaster over the freshly stitched wound, then he rips open a gauze pad, soaks it with antiseptic, and meets your eyes. “Ready?”

“Go for it,” you reply. He’ll probably do a better job cleaning the scrapes than you did in the shower earlier. The sting of the antiseptic makes your eyes water, but you grit your teeth and bear it.

Noah hadn’t moved from where he shuffled closer. Watching attentively as the dirt and blood are cleaned away. You can’t help but look at his tattoos now that he was so close. A red and black, Japanese traditional-style sleeve on one arm, waves and something that appeared to be a fish, and black and grey work on the other. From this angle, you could see a bird with arrows through it and leaves, all part of another larger sleeve that you couldn’t see because of his shirt. Then there were the ones you saw when you first met him—the intricate patterns on his hands and the snake on his neck. You realise the piece on his throat is a scene from Genesis. A hand reaching for the apple with the serpent coiled around. They were all beautiful, you thought, and they suited him well.

“How many of you are there?” You ask almost absentmindedly.

His eyes locked onto yours for a moment, his gaze making your heart race, and you desperately wished it would stop. He was a ghoul; he could probably hear it. “Four of us, mainly. There are others, but most of the work is us four.”

You nod at his answer—the four of them on the bridge. It made sense. You wondered if the others were just as friendly as these two. Or, if this was all still an act.

“You were limping before. Is your leg injured?” Noah asked, something that appeared to be genuine concern etched onto his features.

“Oh,” you say, looking down at the hip in question. “That happened last night too. It’s just bruised. It’s fine.” His concern was almost endearing, despite his group being responsible for the injuries. “Wait,” you frown, looking up at him. “When did you see me limping?”

“Followed you,” he says plainly, throwing back the last of his coffee. You stare at him with wide eyes, Nick continuing to clean up your hands. Apparently you’re the only one in the room that finds being followed weird. “What?” He says, equally shocked. “I thought you were a CCG Investigator on a mission to kill us all! Can you blame me?”

You shake your head in disbelief. You can’t blame him, really. If your dad could get out of bed, he’d probably be following some random ghouls around the Ward right now.

Nick tossed the gauze pad off to the side and wiped off his hands on the towel, then took a fresh pad and pressed it against your palm, tore off pieces of tape, and pressed them on securely to hold it tight to the wounded area. He takes the roll of white gauze and wraps it securely around the gauze pad, up your wrist and down towards your fingers, then does the same with the thicker brown dressing, wrapping it tight to protect the whole thing from the outside and keep it sterile. You flex your fingers when he’s done, finding your range of movement fine.

“Ready for the next one?” He asks. You simply nod and twist towards him in your seat to hold your other palm out.

“How is your father? If you don’t mind me asking,” Noah says softly.

“He’s alive,” you study his face, and he seems to genuinely care. “He’s pretty beat up, but I think he’ll be fine. If he gives himself time to heal, which I’m not sure he will.”

“He’s a hell of a fighter,” Nick comments.

“He’s retired. He should be on a beach somewhere drinking too much liquor.”

Noah chuckles under his breath and collects his cup, then looks at yours. “Do you want another?”

“No, I’m good, thank you,” you hold out the mug for him to take. He stands from the floor with ease and heads off into the kitchen to rinse them out in the sink. You can’t stop staring. A ghoul doing the washing up.

“We really are just trying to protect what we have here, you know,” Nick says as he wraps your hand. “We don’t usually go around picking fights.”

You turn your face to look at him. A ghoul tending to the wounds of a human. “Unlike my father,” you sigh. A moment of silence fills the room, filled only by the sound of running water and the occasional clinking of ceramic. “I’m sorry that he’s causing so much trouble. I keep trying to tell him, but he doesn’t listen. It’s like I can’t get through to him.”

“He’ll listen,” Nick reassures, taping down the last of the bandage. “You’re his daughter.”

You pull your hand back to your lap when he’s finished as he snaps off the latex gloves, flexing both hands and finding they immediately feel better.

Noah comes back into the front room, wiping his hands on his legs to dry them. “Are you sure you don’t have any other injuries? Anything else we can do to help?”

“No. No, I'm sure. I need to go back anyway. Check on my dad.”

“Of course. I’ll walk you there,” Noah says.

You stand on still shaky legs from the couch. “No, you don’t need to do that-”

“It’s late,” he interjects. “I know you might not believe it, but there are worse things out there than us.”

“Don’t forget this,” Nick says, standing to cross the room, opening the door, and picking up a plastic bag from the other side.

“Is that- my groceries?” You ask. Nick just smiles and hands the bag to Noah, who holds it out to you with an outstretched arm. Your hand twitches by your sides, but the movement hesitates; ever present in the back of your mind is the true nature of these men.

"Look, I know I look scary, but I wouldn't hurt a fly. You don't have to worry," Noah reassures.

Nick leans over with a whisper, "you literally killed a man like, an hour ago."

"I didn't say anything about hurting men. I said I wouldn't hurt a fly... That much is true."

“You almost killed me on the bridge,” you counter.

“But I didn’t,” he says with a cheeky smile. You couldn’t wrap your head around how this casual conversation was happening right now.

Nick looks between you and Noah and claps his hands. “Well, I’m gonna go! It was nice meeting you properly. You know, not trying to kill each other.” He collects the trash in a plastic bag, ties it off, and throws it into the duffle, along with the white case full of first aid supplies. Slinging it over his shoulder, he pats Noah on the shoulder and says, “See you later, dude.”

“Yeah, see you.”

“Thank you again,” you say quickly. “And it was nice to properly meet you too.”

He smiles, and with a wave, he was gone through the front door. Noah was right; it wasn’t a trap. They really did want to help. You take your jacket from the couch and cautiously slip it on, careful not to twist your arm in a way that would pull the fresh stitches.

“I’ll carry this for you,” Noah says, holding up the bag. “So you don’t mess up your hands.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, trying to hide the heat you could feel creeping up on your cheeks.

The air was significantly colder when you stepped outside. Wrapping your arms tight around you, you couldn’t help but glance around at your surroundings. The streets were just as empty as earlier, and you could feel the anxiety creeping up on you again at the idea of being completely alone with a ghoul.

“You ready?” Noah asks, standing a couple of paces ahead of you. You nod silently and catch up to him. You fall into step beside him as you walk; the only sound was the wind whistling through the streets and the grocery bag rustling by Noah’s side.

Your mind wouldn’t stop racing; one question that you didn’t ask him was bouncing around in your brain until you just had to speak. “You let us live. On the bridge.”

“I did.”

“Why?” You ask.

“We don’t kill innocent people.”

“But you kill humans.”

“Out of necessity. And only people that deserve it. There’s no shortage of bad types here.”

“Who are you to decide that?” Your words echo those of the ghoul’s from earlier in the night.

“So the man who was following you home with a knife in his pocket should’ve lived?”

“The- What?”

Noah stops in his tracks and takes a deep breath. “I recognised you at the bookstore cafe. I saw you move in and recognised your father’s scent on you from when he trespassed into our territory. So, I waited for you to leave after your shift. I intended on following you home that night to gather information on your father,” he speaks clearly and plainly. “Like I said before, I keep track of all the Doves in the Ward, and I wanted to know his intentions. Turns out someone else had the same idea. You didn’t even see him behind you, but he pulled a knife out of his pocket and picked up his pace when you reached the outskirts of town. And I stopped him.”

The crash down the alley. You thought it was cats. “You killed him.”

“I did.”

“You saved me.”

“I did.”

“Why would you save me?” The wind whipped around you both, causing you to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself tighter. You realised that Noah never put his own coat back on but showed no signs of being bothered by the cold. “If you recognised me then, you knew I had connections to a CCG Investigator, why would you save me?”

He’s quiet for a moment, deep in thought, before answering, “I don’t know,” then continuing to walk.

You’re both quiet for a while. The silence is comfortable despite the heavy subject matter. “Thank you,” you say quietly. He looks down at you expectantly. “Thank you for saving me. And thank you for letting us live on the bridge.”

Noah nods in understanding.

He’s helped you so far, hasn’t judged you or belittled you. Maybe you really could trust him. “My father, he’s… tracking the ghoul that killed my mother. He thinks he’s here, in the 13th.” You’re silent for a moment as you continue to walk. “I don’t know if he’s right.” You run a hand over your face. “I don’t know if it even matters to him. He’s hellbent on killing every ghoul he can get his weapon on.”

“What do you want?” Noah asks.

“I want my dad back,” you sigh.

You continue to walk. Passing quickly by the alleyway that you almost died in mere hours ago, the only evidence of the fight was the pool of blood left in the street and the mangled dumpster in the mouth of the alley.

“What does he have so far? On the ghoul that killed your mother,” Noah breaks the silence.

“A physical description. He was there, he watched it happen. He has sketches all over his fucking wall,” you spit with a bitter laugh.

“Can you get one for me?” He asks. You cock your head to the side, wondering why he would want an image of the ghoul your father was tracking. “I keep track of every ghoul in the Ward, remember? If he’s local, I’ll know him.”

“What, do you- do you want to help?”

“Maybe if we can find the right guy, let your father get his revenge, he’ll come to his senses again?”

“I don’t know,” you say with a weary sigh. “I don’t know if it’ll be enough for him.” The apartment building was in view, and from the street, you could see no lights were on on your floor. “I’ll get you a sketch. Wait here,” you say as you approach the front door.

Noah nods, hands over the plastic grocery bag, and waits several paces away from the front door.

When you shove the door open and get inside, the first thing you see in the darkness were the covers you’d given your father from your bed to keep him warm enough in the night, left in a heap on the end of the couch. Immediately you’re irritated. He couldn’t even put them back in your room, the room next door to his.

You squeeze past the couch, leave the groceries on the couch, and crack open his bedroom door, finding him, still breathing, asleep on his side with his back to the door. An empty tin of soup sat on his bedside table. Most likely eaten unheated and straight out of the tin. You close your eyes and sigh deeply, shaking your head and closing the door on the way out.

Stopping off in his office, you stare at his investigation board. Articles and scrawled notes connected with red string pulled straight from the mind of a madman. You find a sketch of that face tacked off to the side and hope he won’t notice its absence. Squeezing past the couch on the way out and pulling the door closed again on its wonky hinges.

Noah is exactly where you left him, though he was standing with his back to the apartment entrance, looking out into the dimly lit empty streets.

“You’ve had dealings with him before, I think. I read a news report on my dad’s desk. Something about him trespassing into your area,” you take one last look at the grotesque face before handing the sketch over to Noah. “This is what he looks like.”

His brown eyes scan the paper before speaking, his tone laced with disdain. “Yeah. We know this guy.”

“Is he here then?”

“Yeah,” Noah nods. “We’ve had some leads on where he’s operating out of. We were going there tomorrow actually, to scope the place out,” he scans the page one more time before looking back at you. “Come with us.”

“Wait, You- Why would you want me there?”

“If you see him for yourself, you’ll know we aren’t lying,” he says sincerely. You hesitate, mulling over the idea of spending more time with this man- this ghoul. “We’ll just be watching from a distance. Besides, the sooner we track him down and deal with him, the sooner you can take your dad back home, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” you concede.

“You don’t have to come, but think about it. I’ll come by tomorrow around 10pm, and we can talk more then.”

“Okay,” you nod. Maybe you could get these ghouls to kill Malice; maybe then your father would decide to go back to the 2nd Ward.

Noah nods and turns, hands in his pockets, calling, “See you tomorrow,” over his shoulder.

“Noah!” You call after him as he walks away. “Do you really think you can kill this guy?”

“It doesn’t matter if your father kills him or I do. The ghoul that killed your mother is going to die.”

PREV　/　NEXT [coming soon..]

Ending Notes: I realised my taglist link was wrong so you might wanna check you've liked the correct post (linked at the top) if you want to be updated! 🖤 A glossary has also been added explaining terms if you need it!

➤ 𝗣𝗢𝗣𝗨𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 (34) :

⌞1𝗌𝗍 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖣 - 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖸𝖮𝖣𝖠⌝ ‣ @somebodyels3 ‣ @fadingangelwisp ‣ @english-fucker ‣ @missduffsblog ‣ @amelia-acero

⌞2𝗇𝖽 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖣 - 𝖢𝖧𝖴𝖮⌝ ‣ @fadingintothegrey ‣ @babygirlchuuya ‣ @bluebird19 ‣ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ‣ @lil-garbitch

⌞3𝗋𝖽 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖣 - 𝖬𝖨𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖮⌝ ‣ @thisbicc ‣ @clingylittlebun-blog ‣ @queen-foraday ‣ @astridwesson ‣ @dethroneackerman

⌞4𝗍𝗁 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖣 - 𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖭𝖩𝖴𝖪𝖴⌝ ‣ @blairboo ‣ @themorticians-world ‣ @comforting-madness ‣ @savaneafricaine ‣ @tosoundlessdarkistare

⌞5𝗍𝗁 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖣 - 𝖡𝖴𝖭𝖪𝖸𝖮⌝ ‣ @aubrey-melinoe ‣ @badomensls ‣ @theaudraeymarie ‣ @psychomaniacmind ‣ @stardust-and-starlight

⌞6𝗍𝗁 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖣 - 𝖳𝖠𝖨𝖳𝖮⌝ ‣ @looney-goose ‣ @sadbitchenergy ‣ @friedchildblaze ‣ @touyas-princess ‣ @strltsaiuki

⌞7𝗍𝗁 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖣 - 𝖲𝖴𝖬𝖨𝖣𝖠⌝ ‣ @lovesick-evangelist ‣ @sanekiii ‣ @dravenskye ‣ @minah2020 ‣ @rumoured-whispers

⌞7𝗍𝗁 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖣 - 𝖪𝖮𝖳𝖮⌝ ‣ @1crushed1 ‣ @thewrstinme ‣ @theskyislonely

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/SERIES/NTG

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redskybluemoon · 4 months ago

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A Good Hatake Kakashi-Centric Fanfictions

These are my absolute favorite fics of Baddass Kakashi Hatake / Kakashi - Centric, which I definitely will read and re-read every one of them in my free times.

This list will update frequently. :) Feel free to recommend me some Kakashi-centric fics. ♥

Oneshot or Drabble or Short Story: - Kit and Kin Series by Lolistar92. Rated T. Part 1 - the slate gray charm Part 2 - the antique silver wisdom Part 3 - lingering smoke clears Part 4 - the vermillon vanguard Part 5 - the amber orchestra Part 6 - the saffron reprieve Part 7 - the sage rampart Part 8 - the cobalt crossway - birth of a cell ; death of a star Series by thesaintraphael. Rated T Part 1 - an exercise in patience Part 2 - jigsaw falling into place

Chaptered Fics : - Nukenin by WhisperingDarkness. Rated T. (Status : Completed). - Life as a Nukenin by JKblue. Rated T. (Status : Completed). - Lichtenberg Figures by Asteroid_Duck. Rated M. (Status : Completed). - Out of the Dark by LittleBirdWrites (Pairing : Hatake Kakashi/OC). Rated M. (Status : Completed). - Daybreak Never Comes by Myst_Marshall. Rated T. (Status : On-Going). - Ear to the Wall by Vodkassassin. Rated T (Status : On-Going). - It Happened Once in a Dream by SunshineAndRainbows. Rated T (Status : On-Going). - They shrunk sensei?! by RandoLan. Rated T (Status : On-Going). - For Tomorrow Never Comes by SoaringPigeonShovel. Rated T (Status : On-Going). - The Executioner of the Mist by Veronero. Rated T (Status : On-Going).

- Scaring Crows Series by scrappybook. Part 1 - Year of the Ghost. Rated T. (Status : Completed). Part 2 - Beneath a Shared Sky. Rated T. (Status : On-Going).

Crossover Fics : - Unforeseen Mayhem by Aerugonian. Rated T. (Naruto, My Hero Academia). Oneshot. (Status : Completed). - CCG Public Enemy No 1 by euphoricimage. Rated T. (Naruto, Tokyo Ghoul). (Status : Completed). - Reddit, is my neighbor a kidnapper or just weird? by Asteroid_Duck. Rated T. (Naruto, My Hero Academia). (Status : Completed). - Edo Tensei by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815). Rated T. (Naruto, My Hero Academia). (Status : On-Going). - Scarecrows Don’t Fly by Asteroid_Duck. Rated T. (Naruto, My Hero Academia). (Status : On-Going). - Wonderboy by Tsume_Yuki. Rated T. (Naruto, My Hero Academia). (Status : On-Going, possibly abandoned). So freaking good, I wish they will continue someday, :( - The Taste of Lightning on Your Tongue by PenguinEmperess. Rated T. (Naruto, Jujutsu Kaisen). (Status : On-Going, possibly abandoned). So much potential, I wish they will continue someday, :(

Kakashi/Sakura Fics. Check this link

#fic rec #kakashi hatake #kakashi centric #BAMF Hatake Kakashi #my favorite story #Kakashi crossover fics

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darklinaforever · 9 months ago

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So, you have to stop messing around. Yes, Atla live action is not and will never be better than the original version but we have to stop spitting on it for that. Overall the series is very successful. I see some critics saying it's mediocre and that's blatantly bad faith. No, the actors don't play badly, quite the contrary. It's not the best acting in the world but they are still children who are doing very, very well and will continue to progress. They're not fucking disasters. The actors of Aang and Zuko are the best in my opinion. And if I still see someone criticizing the weight of the actresses for Azula and Mai... There are also critics who say the CCG is disgusting, uh sorry ? This is more of a bullshit, at this stage it's downright spitting. I've even seen people say that THE MOVIE WAS BETTER ?! WTF ?! A few days ago everyone was spitting on the movie, and now under the pretext of downgrading the series, we're going to say that it wasn't so bad now ?! And even downright better than this new version ?! But damn, this is mind-blowing bullshit. Also, if I hear one more complaint that it's bad that the original creators didn't have much input into the live action project... FUCK YOU ! It's going to get into people's heads when Atla would never have become the good animated series it is today if it had only been them in charge ?! Katara would have simply been Aang's girl ! (What she ironically becomes in the sequel in comics under their sole supervision !) Toph would not have existed, nor would Zuko's exceptional arc. Misery, the best episodes of the series do not come from them ! Stop glorifying them ! They had the basic idea, but it was developed by a whole competent team behind it ! When they are the only ones in charge it sucks ! The Atla comics are an abysmal disaster in terms of character characterization and many other things. What they did to Zuko, Katara and Aang is unforgivable. The Legend of Korra is filled with the same flaws as the original series but much worse and triple ! And they want to make an animated movie about the adult gaang and another animation series with the avatar as an earthbender ?! But stop the bloody massacre ! Also... do I need to remind you that your creators, darling, that you are complaining about are not on the adaptation project, therefore complaining about the future fidelity quality of the product... THEY VALIDATE THE MOVIE ! THIS MOVIE HATED BY EVERYONE, THEY SUPERVISED AND APPROVED IT, YOU FOOL ! It's not surprising that others are more respectful of the universe than the creators themselves who have always wiped their ass with the original series through the adaptation of the movie, the comics and the legend of Korra ! Damn people can be so stupid...

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canadianlucifer · 5 months ago

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I'd like to thank you for single handedly carrying the tg tumblr scene rn.

any fic recs?

preferrebly gen but i'll take anything atp

i feel like atlas carrying the world now jk jk, tysm!! I couldn't do it without everyone else in the fandom keeping me motivated and inspiring me to make content tho!

As for fic recs, I honestly don't read much so I don't have a lot to recommend, but I do have a few!

The only gen one that comes to mind at the moment is The Black Tapes, it's a canon divergence story where Yamori recorded what he did to Kaneki on VHS tapes which the CCG then found and watched, leading Amon to realize that Kaneki was not actually born a ghoul and that the CCG might not be as just as he once thought...

As for non-gen/ship fics, Tokyo is a no-ghouls au by @just-another-tokyo-ghoul-fan about Kaneki getting roped into a toxic relationship with Rize and Hide being a bat-shit insane but also really good friend who also happens to be crushing on him

@tg-headcanons has a series of fics set in an awesome au where Kaneki is rescued from aogiri very quickly the Anteiku raid never happens, They Left His Arm is my favourite because hey, I'm a seiakimon shipper, what did you expect? Haha, but they're all super good!

Other than that... well, I guess I'll self promote my own current fic project, Yellow Roses. It's about Takizawa escaping aogiri and going back to the CCG against his will bc Akira fucked up and she's trying to apologize but he's traumatized and pissed off and she doesn't know how to use her damn words lmao (and while yes I do ship them, I wanted this fic to focus on their friendship so there's no romance at all here!) (also yes I know the art is broken i just haven't had the energy to fix it lol)

That's all for long-form fics, though there are a couple of much shorter one shots I could recommend if you're interested!

#Thanks for the ask!#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul re #fic rec

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blainesebastian · 1 year ago

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new normal (ccg universe)

words: 3,339 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (based on two anon requests) this is basically a 3+1 fic! three times ccg was uncomfortable while pregnant and one time she was perfectly content notes: most of my ccg family series is in 'order' so if you want to read ‘expectant’ before this, you can! this fic also references 'you fit right here' but again, not 100% necessary to read these first :) i just like knowing my universe works well together lmao warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @austinbutlermischief , @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted

When you first found out you were pregnant you were excited and terrified all at the same time. You weren’t exactly sure how it was all going to work even though you were sure it would, everything had to change in ways you weren’t expecting. Not all at once, of course, a slow trickle…but even then it was noticeable. One day, nine months later, the direction of your lives would change forever.

Something to plan for, of course, but the day to day? You often times had no idea how to begin to approach it.

Here’s the thing that seems completely ironic—you finally felt like you had settled. That’s how it always appears to be, isn’t it? Once you tackle one obstacle, something else pops up like a twisted game of whack-a-mole. Not to…completely describe your relationship with Austin like that, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like working over hurdles. You think it’s healthy to acknowledge that your relationship with Austin isn’t normal, far from something ‘regular’ in so many different ways.

You tackled what it was like to date him under the very public eye of everything that had to do with Elvis. Then getting married and realizing that no matter what you did, there would always be ‘opinions’ of you and where you’ve come from, your lack of ‘worth’ automatically being connected to you like cinderblocks attached to your ankles. Didn’t matter how you had dreams of being in the industry before Austin, all that some people saw were rungs in the ladder, you somehow ‘using’ your husband to take those steps into film.

Some days bothered you more than others, but you got through it, because at the end of the day—Austin always saw you for who you truly were. And that’s all that mattered.

Becoming pregnant, as suspected, is a completely new set of hurdles.

-- one

There is really no use in keeping it quiet, the fact that you’re expecting, you’re at a party over Jillian’s when you spill the beans to Austin and things only progress from there. Your family and other close friends learn rather quickly but you don’t post anything on social media. There’s this strange sense of wanting to keep this private that envelops you like a tidal wave. For some reason, it’s one thing for people to have opinions about your relationship with Austin, your career, but it’s another for them to say things about your body like this, about the life growing inside of you.

You feel utterly vulnerable and exposed and don’t want to be in front of cameras or talk to anyone that’s not someone you both know (meaning paps or fans). You don’t stop Austin from doing so, would never demand that of him, but he also respects that you’re uncomfortable and has always been protective of you. That doesn’t change.

The first trimester is the easiest because the baby isn’t bigger than a peach, you’re not really showing, but it all spirals from there. Thirteen weeks turns into fifteen, which turns into twenty-five. And there’s really no hiding a head of cauliflower.

You kinda accept that because this isn’t going away any time soon, you’re only going to get bigger. It’s not like you’re really worried about what you look like? Moreso that your hormones are raging in a bunch of various ways and you don’t like the feeling of being looked at. Like you’re under some sort of microscope, a specimen to be studied.

Paps are nothing new, Austin is pretty good at getting them to keep a healthy distance, but no—you’re really talking about fans.

You’re out to dinner at this Italian place you love with Austin’s sister and Jillian, tucked into a booth towards the back that’s supposed to promote privacy but…throughout eating you’ve noticed that a small table of girls have spotted Austin from their seats. Again, this isn’t new and usually wouldn’t bother you.

But instead of coming over? They’re taking pictures from their seats and because the booth is close enough, you can hear them chattering on about you. It’s not a full conversation but the tailends of sentences and—since you’re on the end of the booth seat they can see the swell of your belly and they’re wondering if that’s a food baby or a pregnancy. You can’t help but bristle, the words feel louder than they actually are, you know this because your table continues on with discussions that are light and funny and easy.

Your fingers dig into the napkin on your lap, trying to lean back into the seat and just enjoy catching up, especially with Austin’s sister. But you feel like your world keeps tilting off its axis, ruining your equilibrium.

It’s really bothering you that they’re taking all these pictures, trying to be nonchalant but coming across like Gossip Girl instead.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel Austin’s palm rest on your knee and you blink, turning your head to look at him. His eyebrows draw together a little, “You alright?”

You nod softly, giving him a small smile but your husband doesn’t look overly convinced. You shouldn’t be surprised, you suppose, he knows you.

He’s patient, squeezing your knee as he takes a sip of his water. Jillian and Ashley are knee-deep in a conversation about an actor the make-up artist is kind-of-sort-of seeing. You’re grateful that the attention isn’t on you, which is probably one of the only reasons you turn to Austin and say,

“That table of girls over there keeps taking pictures. I think they’re trying to be subtle about it but…” You trail off, shaking your head, words getting stuck in your throat. Your hand settles on your belly and Austin glances down before looking over at the table.

You don’t have to explain, “Want me to say somethin’ to them?”

“No,” You reply quickly, not wanting to cause a scene or upset anyone. You…you get it, you were and are a fan. There are boundaries, of course? But you’ve seen and experienced way worse. This probably wouldn’t even bother you if you weren’t feeling extra sensitive and vulnerable right now.

Austin hums lightly from the spot next to you, putting his napkin on the table and motions for you to get up. You hesitate for a moment but…he’s not going to go over there when you’ve told him not to. You shimmy out of the booth and let out a soft sigh, waiting for him to stand—and then he motions you to slide into his spot.

A soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth as he runs a hand down your back. You eagerly get into the booth, Austin following, his body shielding yours from any onlookers. If Jillian or Ashley realize the switch for a reason, neither of them saying anything, instead Austin’s sister asks you about your upcoming writing project.

Austin slips an arm around your shoulders and you lean into his chest, already feeling a lot better as you begin talking. At some point during the conversation, you kiss his cheek just because and Austin smiles as his other hand gently brushes over your stomach.

-- two

The end of your second trimester somehow feels the slowest and busiest time all happening at once. You suppose it’s because you really feel yourself become the most introspective about the upcoming weeks and everything else after that, and yet, Austin’s life speeds up because he takes on another project. One of your favorite versions of your husband is when he’s working, that brightness in his eyes as he studies to become another character and figuring out what he needs to do to best bring those words on a page to life.

Sitting on a park bench near your apartment, you run your hand over your stomach and take a deep breath. The weather is just starting to turn a little chilly but it’s your favorite season—you’ve just never been a spring or summer girl. You settle back against the bench and check the time; Austin should be along any minute now. He had a lunch with his agent, and of course invited you, but you wanted a lazy day at home in bed. And that’s where you were as of an hour ago.

Stretching your legs out, you open up a small container of fruit from your purse, popping a bit of strawberry into your mouth.

“What’s the fruit today?”

You smile a little, turning your head to see Austin walking towards you. Kind of unfair how unbearably handsome he looks in his black-on-black look, jeans, leather jacket, boots…and here you are feeling like a swollen beach ball.

“Strawberry,” You tease, eating another one. You know what he’s asking.

He rolls his eyes and leans down to steal a kiss, humming at the taste of your lips.

“You ask like, every day,” Laughing lightly, you put the lid back on your fruit container and slip it into your bag, “It’s a rutabaga—we’ve moved into some vegetables.”

Austin crinkles his nose, “Never had a rutabaga.”

He reaches his hand out to help you off the bench and you hum softly, gaining your footing, “Would it help if I said she’s the size of the hamburger phone from Juno?”

Pursing his lips, he nods, “Slightly.”

Walking back towards your place, Austin wraps a loose arm around your shoulders. “How did lunch go?”

He nods, “Good, mostly just event planning, that sort of thing.” He glances down at you as you both pause to cross the street, the light blinking red, “I got somethin’ next week, lowkey schmooze event. Want to be my date?”

You let out a slow sigh and move forward to walk with him, quiet for a few moments as you contemplate. It’s not that…there’s just so many thoughts buzzing in your head about attending an event with Austin. The first one you went to as a couple you nearly had a panic attack in the car, and now you’re…like this? You hate that you’re feeling so cliché about what you look like when you’re pregnant but—

“Feels like I should be glowing but I actually just feel a hot air balloon.”

Austin smirks lightly, shaking his head, “You’re beautiful.”

You roll your eyes even though your cheeks kiss pink—compliments from him never fail in making you feel good. “You’re bias.”

“Absolutely,” He grins and a small laugh rumbles out of your chest as you get closer to the apartment. “You don’t have to go if you’re not feeling up to it.”

You chew on your lower lip—you know that he wants you to go, otherwise he wouldn’t have mentioned it. There’s no pressure there, obviously, other than a selfish need to want to spend time together. You can relate to that.

“I’ll go,” You give him a small smile, “Hope there’s good snacks.”

Austin smirks, drawing you close to press a kiss to your temple. “We can leave early if there isn’t.”

And that seems like a good enough plan. You’re about to mention maybe grabbing some sort of snack now, you’re craving chicken tenders of all things, but then someone steps right into your path and nearly has you stumbling off balance. You’re about to apologize, but then you see the camera and—seriously? A minute away from walking back into your apartment?

You know you sort of signed up for this by deciding to date Austin, to marry him, to create a family together but sometimes the lack of privacy drives you utterly crazy. Is it really too much to ask for a little peace? Especially when you’re not feeling your best.

“Not today,” Is all you manage to get out before Austin is stepping in, shifting positions so that you’re in front of him. It’s easier to direct you towards the front door and unfortunately if there’s one pap, there’s usually more.

“Got a name for the baby yet?”

Austin puts his arm up, walking a bit quicker as his other hand squeezes your hip, “What have I said about puttin’ the camera in her face guys?” His voice is calm but firm, not willing to entertain any of these questions.

“When’s the due date?”

You bite your tongue on hissing out none of your business and walk up the steps to the front door. The doorman, Mike, quickly opens up to usher you both inside. Shaking your head, you run a hand over your stomach, back and forth as you make your way to the elevator with Austin.

“Sorry,” Austin says after a moment and he always does this, like he has to apologize for the paps and take responsibility for them.

You shake your head, gently waving off his apology as you lean against one of the walls, “I should start whipping cameras down,” And you’re joking…mostly, “That’d be something to write about.”

Austin smiles a little and you can see the firm line along his shoulders begin to relax. He reaches for you, drawing you close to his chest and presses a kiss to your forehead, the bridge of your nose, and finally your lips.

-- three

You only regret telling Austin that you’ll go to this event with him just once and it’s when you’re getting ready and the zipper of your dress won’t work. For starters, it’s on your side and you…while you know that means it should be easier to tug up, it’s not. You try it twice before beginning to feel the creeping in of frustration and annoyance and god, you are not about to cry over a zipper, you’re not.

“I’m not going.” You snap out, because apparently dramatics make more sense.

Austin turns away from the mirror after he does his tie, a small, handsome smile on his face that you nearly want to lose your mind over.

“C’mere.” He holds out his hand and you so want to cross your arms over your chest and pout instead, but you don’t, huffing as you move closer to clasp onto him.

Austin guides you in front of the mirror which is the last place you want to be, your eyes casting down a moment before just focusing on him instead. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and tries the zipper. When it won’t budge, you just about tear the thing off.

“Take a breath,” He says soothingly, reaching in the bedside drawer for something. Pulling out a small container of Vaseline, your eyebrows draw together as he rubs a very small amount on the zipper track. “Somethin’ my mom taught me.” He smiles a little.

He pulls the zipper down to start over and in one smooth motion, he zips the dress shut. Your mouth opens and closes almost like a goldfish. The dress wasn’t too small for you or anything like that…the zipper was just stuck.

You shake your head, tilting it back a little to rest on Austin’s shoulder. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. His hand crosses back and forth across your belly, pressing a kiss to your neck. “You tell me you want to go and we’ll go, alright?”

A small smile tugs the corners of your mouth and you nod, allowing yourself to linger in his embrace for as long as you can.

Turns out the event is just fine—the photos are painless and quick, Austin is as attentive as he’s always been, you’re able to catch up with people you haven’t seen in the industry in a long time and there’s plenty of good snacks.

Doesn’t stop you and Austin from leaving after two hours to grab burgers and milkshakes on the way home, however.

-- plus one

You weren’t really expecting it but Austin pushes things around in his schedule so that you both can go on a ‘babymoon’. You’re incredibly excited because it’s one of things that you found yourself looking forward to when you became pregnant, and it’s right at the cusp of thirty-five weeks (a honeydew!). After this, it’s advised that you don’t travel, even somewhere within the U.S.

Nothing really beats the feeling of your feet digging into sand, the ocean breeze kissing your face, a private-ish beach where no one is going to bother you. Not to mention—

You smile lightly from inside this beach tent you brought, an open-mouthed structure that has a canopy to keep you shaded and plenty of room for beach chairs or just towels. Austin walks out of the ocean so gracefully—you feel like you were never capable of that, even when you weren’t pregnant, tripping on the ground disappearing underneath you and waves hitting the backs of your thighs. He’s got a slight tan going on, freckles kissing his cheekbones and the skin of his shoulders, both his hands pushing his blonde hair back.

Utterly handsome; your stomach doing the same flip-flop it’s always done since the first day you saw him.

He makes his way into the beach tent, sitting down on the towels. Grabbing one, he runs it through his hair and you can’t help but chuckle at the wet dog look, running your fingers through his strands.

“You don’t want to get in?”

“I’ll probably fall,” You reply, “And then float like a buoy or something.”

Austin huffs out a soft laugh, “I’ll help you; you won’t fall.”

Humming at the idea, though very tempting, you look down at the sand right outside the tent and, “You know what I really want?” He raises his eyebrows, “I want to be able to lie down on my stomach, like, I miss that.”

Austin smiles, running his hand over your belly. Then he pauses, his eyes glancing outside the tent and… “I have an idea.”

“That sounds ominous.”

He chuckles and motions for you to get up, “C’mon,” Austin gets out of the tent and helps you stand and you watch him tug the tent aside for a moment and kneel in the sand. He starts digging with his hands and…you have no idea where this is going.

“Buried treasure?” You tease, crossing your arms along your chest. You opted for this really cute orange two-piece, not even worrying about wearing high-waisted bottoms because nothing feels good on your stomach right now.

“Yeah, X marks the spot.” He throws out, laughing a little.

It takes you a moment but…then you realize what he’s doing. He’s digging a deep hole, roughly the size of your stomach and, “Are you—”

Austin hums, standing. He tugs the tent back over the hole and crawls inside, the bottom of the tent easily giving into the space he’s created. Which…that’s perfect because you don’t have to worry about putting your belly right in the sand.

He reaches a hand out to help you back inside the tent and you kinda laugh as you hold onto his shoulder and inch back down, turning to lie on your stomach for the first time in months. It takes a bit of maneuvering and Austin folding some towels so that you can position your head but…once you finally lay down, comfortably?

“I could kiss you.”

Austin smirks, “Still can.”

You grin, “Come down here then.”

He puts down another towel and does so, running his hand along your back and brushing your hair back over your shoulder. He smiles, his nose bumping into yours as he settles close.

You lean up just slightly and kiss him, your hand cupping his cheek, and maybe it sounds dramatic? But you’ve never been happier.

“I love you.” You whisper against his lips, dragging your thumb against his cheekbone.

Austin says it back against your temple, both of you settling into the sand and allowing your eyes to close as the sounds of the waves crash in.

Despite not knowing what the future will bring? You can’t help but find yourself utterly overjoyed for it.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #ccg

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