#do it your damn selves if you wanna know so bad

[beanghostprincess]

I wanna know who your favorite vinsmoke sibling is so bad actually please tell me 👀✨

My friend and my brother laughed at me when I told them my favorite Vinsmoke is Niji, and I genuinely was embarrassed that day because I didn't really know much about him at the time (I think I had only watched a few eps of WCI) and it's pretty clear in the show that he's, uh, the worst of the Vinsmokes. And by "the worst" I mean: The one who's portrayed as the worst because he's the most active one when it comes to abuse and supremacism within the family line. Unlike Ichiji (who's more serious) and Yonji (who's more playful, somehow) Niji is the one who has to actually fight for a role in his family and that's why I think he's so fucking annoying all the damn time. I hate him. I love him. I want to hug him. But also I wouldn't mind punching him very, very hard. I have mixed feelings, but yeah, Niji is my favorite Vinsmoke. And you haven't asked why, but I feel the need to do some sort of mini argument about this because I am a very resentful person and I want to show my friend and my brother that Niji is actually a very interesting character!! And my fiancé thinks I just like him because he's hot, and she's right but only like a 20%. Maybe 40%.

I will try to put my thoughts into words, but it's pretty difficult because I have a lot of things to say about this blue evil gremlin.

I like Niji the most because I think he is, between the three brothers, the one who shows feelings and ambitions outside their emotionless selves the most. I know they technically are the same, but I don't think so (btw, please assume I'm not including Reiju in this text because she's canonically different from them and I'm just referring to the brothers).

As I mentioned before, I think Niji is the one brother who is the most annoying and evil because he feels the need to stand out. Ichiji is serious, and calculative and has a secure place in the family. He is the number one, even if Reiju is the oldest (I would like to talk more about how Reiju, being a woman, even if she's the oldest, she's the number 0. Because she is the oldest but she's a woman, so she obviously doesn't and would not be able to wear the number 1 like a man would. She is the oldest and yet, she has less significance in the family line than Ichiji. But, yeah, this is something that has nothing to do with Niji, sorry). Ichiji, like all of his siblings, wants recognition from his father, but he doesn't have to try as hard as the others to be impressive because he is, after all, the oldest. The typical "older sibling in an abusive household who has to deal with all the bullshit to protect their siblings"? That's something Reiju took over. That's Reiju's responsibility as the oldest and the woman. Ichiji literally doesn't have to do anything besides leading the team and being the evil, emotionless machine his father created. That does not mean that I don't think he could be able to develop more feelings, because I think he could and I love the concept of him being the first one to protest against Judge's behavior, but you get me. When you're the oldest brother with an even older sister, your responsibilities are pretty limited. So he doesn't have to be anything but there and himself.

Yonji, on the other hand... He is the youngest. Even younger than Sanji. He doesn't have to try, because Niji and Sanji should be the ones to do so. Little siblings are not expected to do much besides existing because irl parents are usually tired of raising children and they end up either getting neglected or seen as decoration. As a little sibling myself I can confirm that these things affect really badly to your brain growing up, but I got a more Sanji treatment so I can't speak for Yonji here. The thing I can say, though, is that in comparison to Niji, Yonji is just there. He's silly and goofy. He's funny. He's dumb. He has the excuse of being the little one to act that way. Getting lost eating or doing whatever. Even the fact that his powers are more physically focused instead of power/intelligence centered shows that he can just punch away his issues. He's the gym bro of the siblings. Don't expect much from him. <- Thing that's often said about little siblings, btw, and affects real fucking badly in early teenage years. The fact that he's portrayed like that is so on point tbh but after all, they don't have high expectations for him, so little to no effort is everything he does.

Then there's Niji, of course. My favorite. Love him. Hate him. Whatever. Niji is the middle child. And God, do I have to say things about middle siblings.

The thing about Niji is that he actually has to try and make a name for himself in the family because otherwise he'll probably get forgotten. I often wonder if he had that fear of becoming the next Sanji once he "died" (he's the only one genuinely asking if Sanji died on them before Yonji and Ichiji say they don't care) because his role is not as noticeable as the others. Reiju is the woman, Ichiji is the successor, Sanji is the weakling getting bullied (being technically one of the little siblings but still being in a limbo of middle/youngest because the little one is Yonji), and Yonji is the little one. Then... What's Niji?

Niji needs Sanji way more than he's willing to admit, and I love that. I absolutely love how he's written because he constantly shows that he needs Sanji, through both words and actions. He needs him because without Sanji's existence -without Niji being his bully- Niji is nothing but number 2. And there's nothing more frustrating than being the number two when it comes to family hierarchy. Not going to mention every little thing he does, but as I said, I love how well-written he is. He's the sibling Oda uses the most to show the abuse Sanji went through, but that's only because Niji is the only one who needs to do that. Niji is the one to talk to Sanji first, all the damn time. He gets angry when Sanji doesn't respond. He gets angry because Sanji can't be bullied anymore. He gets angry out of fear, in my opinion, because if the weakling can't get abused anymore, then he's not worth anything. If Sanji isn't the third, the second one is left alone. 2 can't fight 1 because 1 has the protection of starting the line. And 2 can't fight 4 because there's a missing link that keeps 2 from 4. So Niji is mad at Sanji because Sanji isn't the same weak crybaby he used to be, and he can't use him anymore to be secure and safe.

That's fucking horrifying when it comes to family hierarchy.

I like Niji because, despite being an asshole, he has reasons to be like that. First of all, because his father literally made him this way. But also, the little feelings he has (selfish emotions, yes, evil. But they're feelings, anyway. Urges. He's supposed to be emotionless and yet he knows how Sanji feels enough to use that to his advantage) are used as a way to feel superior and safe because he feels inferior. I think he's the one showing more emotions out of the three, even if those emotions aren't healthy or good and it's just him being angry all the time. That means that if he has urges and needs like that, even if he doesn't fear his own death, he could end up developing more and more empathy. His type of empathy comes from a place of fear. He feels what Sanji feels. And it's not that he doesn't care (I mean, I am aware that he technically doesn't, but let me dream) but it's just convenient for him not to care and keep bullying him to secure his place in the family.

Also pointing out that I like Niji because, being the one who says he hates Sanji the most, he's the one to protect him with his own body when that scene of the siblings helping Sanji escape happens. The others only clear the way, Niji stays with him. There's a really cool post about this on Niji's tag somewhere!!! I personally think he does this because, as that post said: Niji keeps seeing Sanji as weak, instead of believing in him enough to just clear the way. He protects him because he thinks he can't protect himself. Because he's weak.

And yes, it might sound offensive and emotionless and it doesn't make Niji a better person. But it makes him an older brother. Believing in Sanji would be great, but thinking that he's weak and needs protection after years of projecting on him only shows that the weak one is Niji. That he wants and is willing to protect his brother, too. If he didn't care about his well-being he would've just cleared the way for him, not caring about what could've happened to Sanji. But he goes all the way to help him out and protect him longer than the others did. Idk. I find that a very beautiful way of ending their relationship.

All of this being said, I have to be honest with you: When I said I liked Niji for the first time I only did it because people around me kept saying he was the worst one and it bothered me because I found his design pretty fucking cool. And tbh when he started being an actual character? I loved him even more. Because during WCI he's a fucking asshole but the way he acts towards Sanji is wanting to get a response from him, and I just find that so curious and complex... Like, if he just wanted to be evil he'd be more the Doflamingo type. But Niji looks for a response in Sanji's eyes. He wants to feel powerful because he knows he isn't.

And also, well, he's very cute and I like his hair a lot and he makes me furious sometimes which is great because if a character doesn't make you want to punch him at one point, is he really a good character? Look at him! He deserves to get slapped in the face. But also, I would love to kiss him afterward. What's that Olivia Rodrigo lyric? Ah, yes: "I wanna break his heart, then be the one to stitch it up. Wanna kiss his face with an uppercut." That's how I feel about him.

I really hope it's obvious, with all of this, that "Succession" is one of my favorite TV Shows, because I could go on and on and on (and nobody would listen but idc) about how the Vinsmokes are just the Roy family. Both One Piece and Succession deal with family in which hierarchy is crucial in a very specific and accurate way. It makes me sick. I love it.

Anyway, have some pics of my blue idiot:

I want to hit him in the head with a baseball bat.

[apocalypsesystem]

Literally the evolution of how i finally realized I was a system.

> (Knows nothing about DID/OSDD. Never doubted it’s existence, just uneducated)

> (Diagnosed with PTSD at 11, BPD symptoms were really bad and I got diagnosed with it at 16 after years of persistent severe symptoms)

> “yeah I used to age regress when I was 12 but it was involuntary”

> (uses multiple different names and constantly changing names)

> (person I liked): “why did you suddenly switch up and act like a narcissist, you weren’t nice to me at all.”

Me: “I DID??? I’m sorry I don’t remember it and I don’t know why that happened”

> “Yeah guys idk I just relate so much to Yugioh and Fight Club and OKKO they make me cry a lot because of how much I relate to having another self you form a bond with and I know it’s interpreted a lot as DID but!! For me It’s in the bpd way!! 😋”

> (someone point out a comment I made) “why did you say that?”

Me: “oh my god you’re right why did I say that. I would never say something like that”.

> “do you guys ever think you’re talking or actively participating in the conversation only to realize all the conversation was happening in your head and not out loud?”

> (talking to irl friends) “guys do you ever like, work and then there’s conversations happening in the background commentating on what you do? I can’t remember what the conversations were but I know they happened”

Friend: “you might wanna look into OSDD dude”

> “guys why don’t we ever talk about the super relatable bpd experience of splitting but your splitting feels more like other selves trying to control you and one of them sounds more like your mom and the other sounds more like a child and sometimes it gets so bad that you start to get numb and get disconnected from everything?”

> (explaining OC lore at 16) So my furry OC lost someone close to him but can’t remember it at all. But then he meets the lost loved one again inside his head but doesn’t know it’s the same person he lost.

> (making a Yugioh oc) Im really having a hard time with this character because I want to project my bpd but like…. The character is super emotionally detached and apathetic but his Yami form is the opposite but kinda embodies everything I feel. but like it feels more like multiple different selves for me, like it feels like the character should have multiple Yami forms taking control and it doesn’t feel as authentic to merge it to just one since the responses are so different.

It was until someone told me to research structural dissociation that changed things for me. Big time.

> seeing a therapist consistently for a bit, heavily believing what we were dealing with was DID and wanted us to get officially evaluated. Still haven’t because we don’t have health insurance and those evaluations are literally like $3,000 god damn.

- ♣️

[sunsetandthemoon]

saw in your tags you mentioned earthmix were in a serious fight while filming moonlight chicken? what's the story there? (ty in advance if you answer this and np if you don't :) )

Hii. Ok, so, while I do follow them on Instagram and Twitter, I never noticed anything until they talked about it during the MLC promo a few weeks ago, so I definitely don't know the full story, but here is a short summary of all the information that I’ve managed to gather from Twitter.

Apparently, there was a 4-5 month period last year where Earth and Mix were fighting (so-called their “divorce era”). It started with them going from constantly hanging out together to never interacting with each other anymore and fans quickly noticed something was up. Then this video from the MLC set was posted and it only further fueled all the speculations (it looks like a perfectly normal video to me tbh but to some, it looked like Mix was angry or like he was sulking 🤷)

They also had a few work events during that time and fans reported a noticeable tension between them. There was also a lot of subtweeting and indirecting on their social media including posts like this:

which is funny considering this is how they described each other in an interview once

("am I still your flower" is absolutely sending me 💀)

some more Mix retweets x/x

Earth even posted this on his insta story

and then, during the Oishi Magic Of Zero trip, they seemed to have finally gone back to their normal selves (x)

they even acknowledged the fight and said that they had made up and that everything was okay between them again (x/x)

and everyone was happy for them including P'Godji who posted this video (x)

Mix even posted this on his story

which may or may not have been a reference to this scene from ATOTS

then, during their interviews recently, they talked a bit more about their fight (x) (their poor manager 😭)

and P'Aof even teased them about it by saying "the hard part for me is, I wanna work with them when they aren’t fighting with each other" when EM were asked what were the easy/hard parts of working together on three different series (x)

speaking of P’Aof, I need to include this bit from MLC bts where he forgot Jim and Wen weren’t supposed to kiss each other during their sex scene in ep1 because it’s just so funny like dhfjhsdjkd

P‘Aof: *after watching them unnecessarily devour each other five takes in a row while knowing damn well they’re in the middle of their divorce era* “whoops my bad 🤭 please don’t kill me” 😂😂😂😂

(x)

anyway - TLDR - Moonlight Chicken was filmed during their divorce era and they were spending their days filming scenes like this

only to then go home and start subtweeting and shading each other online at the end of the day 😂

but they're making up for it now by being inseparable and constantly posting about each other. there are too many moments to link but here are some honorable mentions: x/x/x/x

including these posts from last night x/x

[despair-to-future-arcs]

So someone wanna tell us why your classroom turned into a badly written Eroge?

What in the actual fuck?! Yukio, what the hell is happening! Did you seriously drugged everyone - your aware that some of them are minors!

Wait Fuyuhiko, it's not what it looks like I wasn't even aware this happen!

I remember helping set up the party with everyone, we were all having fun and we got to the food; I was mostly passing food with Teruteru, I swear we didn't put anything in there!

But why is everyone acting so odd? I don't understand...

It's aphrodisiac, everyone is becoming horny and high off the stuff and I along with Nagito was in the kitchen so I know Teruteru wouldn't do this! In fact I think it was that Hiyoko! you did this, didn't you?

Whaaat but I thought Yukio say we should start learning about each other, so I thought what a better way to show that then drugging everyone to see their true selves, learn who the actual freaks are here!

C'mon Pe-Peko, give me the tip of the sword - I promise I'll treat it ve-veeery nicely!

Mikan behave yourself, you realize if you do what I think your going to do; you might end up hurting yourself!

Oh don't wo-worry, I'll just put the sword right into my vi-!

OH NO YOU DON'T!

*Yukio suddenly punched Mikan really hard off of Peko and she fell to the floor* KYAAAAAAAAH!!!

Yukio, you... you save me...

Sorry about that Mikan, hey uh; Peko, you okay? I didn't expect it to get this bad... I'm really sorry about all this.

It's fine, I just... I wasn't expecting to get drugged like this... damn you Hiyoko, you tricked me like this.

Wow, so it seems the trashy skank is a massive freak and Peko is way more subdue it seems.

Well even then, Hiyoko that is mess up; did you realize you drugged everyone in the class - your aware that some of them are minors, right?!

But why not? I thought for a guy like you, you probably a women all over you, just figure I show how much of a freak Mikan is.

Well even then, that isn't okay to do and you need to-.

Oooooh, yeeeees punch me harder daddy! I want to be punch harder, punch me agaaaaaaaaaain!!!

...Oh...Oh god no...!

...

...

...

Uh... is...is Mikan a masochist? I did not expect her to be like that...

Well she is, had a feeling she was hiding behind that little shy girl act all along.

Only because you freakin' drugged her with aphrodisiac, you idiot! Y'know what? Here we go!

*As then Hatomi pick up her own bowl as she turn towards Hiyoko*

Wait... what are you doing with that thing?

Oh... y'know, going to give you a taste of your own medicine! Maybe it's time we get to see your suppose 'true self' is then.

*Hatomi walk over towards Hiyoko as she rush for the corner of the room*

EEEEEEEEK, NOOOOO GE-GET AWAY FROM MEEEEEEE!!!

[6em4k]

*wants to try rping however has only a fursona and no oc for the lmk universe *

[So, for an ask like this, I'm not gunna tell you to just make an OC or just use your fursona or 'just do it' because that's kind of unhelpful all around. What I am gunna do is give you some beats to help you determine how you go about rp-ing that's best for you, so I can more nuancedly tell you to 'just do it'.

1) Roleplay should be fun.

Roleplay should be fun. Roleplay should be fun. There can be a point where it stops being fun or it gets overwhelming, or you find yourself affected by what happens to your character. Character-bleed is a thing, anyone who roleplays in any format can tell you this. And sometimes, you end up roleplaying with people who make you uncomfortable and you need to stop playing with them, which can be hard. Sometimes you'll need to step away just for yourself, and that's fine, and it doesn't need to be when you're about to snap. If you're even in the mood of 'wow, I just do not have it today' or 'wow, this person crossed my boundary', you can stop. You can stop anytime it stops being fun.

Roleplay should be fun.

(I have fun roleplaying Macaque with my close friend, I know I have fun roleplaying Macaque, I want to roleplay Macaque)

2) How do you want to have fun with it?

Do you prefer asks over threads? Script-format or paragraph? Are you okay with long-term plots, very long and detailed prose? Or do you like short-form stuff where it's mostly icons and you don't need to detail much?

What are you comfortable with doing, what feels the most fun, what doesn't put undue pressure on you?

(I roleplay script-style with said friend, but I'm also a writer - I love doing descriptions and writing all fancy-like. I'm down for pretty much whatever, but I prioritize prose.)

3) Who do you want to have fun with?

You are allowed to be selective with who you play with! I don't roleplay with everyone who follows me, and that's because I try to prioritize following/interacting with characters I can see myself having fun relationships with, or people I could see at least one or two fun interactions or threads with. Some people don't play with because our needs/boundaries don't jive, that's just gunna happen. Part of roleplay is understanding your boundaries and what you want.

(Do you have people in mind? Are you open to characters you may not expect to roleplay with? Will you be okay if that feeling isn't mutual? Are you willing to discuss with people? Do you want your character to be challenged and go through the ringer, do you just want fun, zoomy happytime, do you want both?)

4) Who would be the most fun to play as?

Who's fun to talk about? Who's fun to explore? Do you want to play like yourself or as someone not like you?

I'm a DM, so I've seen before people who want to play the 'crazy, unpredictable' sort or an evil manipulator type, but then end up behaving as their own selves and playing peacekeeper/straight-man whenever things get slightly wackier than they were expecting they would do. This isn't a bad thing! It's a simple matter of someone finding more fun responding as they are then keeping in a character they don't feel connected with in that moment.

Self-inserts can be fun! Your Fursona can be fun! Canon Characters can be fun! At the end of the day, ask yourself who would be fun to play. Even just a concept can be fun and you develop them as you play!

The only wrong ways to roleplay are if you're not having fun or if you're hurting someone, and I don't get the impression you want either of those things. The only wrong characters to play are characters you don't have fun playing.

If you wanna make an OC to play, you're more than free. If you wanna use your Fursona, you're more than free. I've even seen someone just str8-up make a roleplay account for their real-life damn self so they can be themselves while exploring other fantasy worlds to play in - and you're more than free to do the same or not! Whatever character you choose, there's no wrong answer. Do what feels the most fun.]

[arandomblog1627]

Okay so I’m tired of the power struggle between the two parties. Let’s get 1 thing clear. Yes I like violence. No, I do not want to go to war. I grew up with a view on the world where if something is bad and bothers you, you should stand up for yourself and do something about it. I’d want to learn how to be a wizard that can cast spells but that also can fight. Now, I don’t like being part of your thing. I don’t get to make my own decisions when it comes to my life. It decides for me based on how you feel. Some people are tired. Things never seem to get better for (my body). My entire nervous system is a wreck because of a really bad person. Their relentless. It’s taking a toll on me. I can’t have the personal war between myself and my, which I would refer to some of them, as actual friends. You guys quarrel and both abandon me, leaving a frightened helpless kid (and his mother) to fend for themselves selves in a world their not to be prepared to be thrown into. By the way, you’re in the wrong for continuing to look with me. The real Matt, asked me to never have to do it again. On top of all those problems, I’ve got someone who’s able to manipulate the things that don’t think into immediately throwing all care to the wind because “well darn he possibly could of said something that I didn’t agree with” and completely LEAVE ME TO HAVE A FUCKING HEART ATTACK. It shouldn’t be in the hands of people who don’t truly understand. I need people that care about the same things that I care about. If you really wanna know what I care about, drop a comment below. Some of the systems limit me of living up to my full potential. Some of the systems completely strip me of all potential. Others open my eyes to my potential. And others make me feel so bad about the way things are that I end up shutting my eyes. I believe that you should respect nobody no matter what, I’d like to say if someone disrespects you to whoop their ass respectfully. But I’ve never been in a real fight, hell. I haven’t experienced a heckuva lot of things. I’m a very open and understanding person. I’m not a true empath, but I can easily put myself in your shoes. I understand all aspects of your thoughts and feelings about damn near every situation. Simply by having some of the same morals as you. But I’m different. I’d fight for myself. Everybody I know has a different view of me. Or their own version of me. I hate who I am sometimes. And others I love myself. But the main part of that is I understand where all of the thoughts that make up that version of myself come from. I understand the reasoning behind the decisions and the thoughts. Sometimes it’s an actual person forcing thoughts down your throat. And that’s what I want most in this world. I’m gonna close this, I need you to understand me. On a level no one else does. I need more people to understand me. Maybe they’d find a reason to fight. P.s. FAIL ME

[maguro13-2]

Darkness Reborn ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Final Chapter Pt.8 (2/3)

Mamimi : Huh. Finally back in Japan. I can't get enough of this place since that incident in the 2000s of Atomsk's appearance in 11 years ago, but I'm sure Gainax is pretty fine of how thing's are going with the studio being the lucky son of a gun before they moved to Studio Trigger is something what they've foreshadow.

[Mamimi's ringtone playing]

Mamimi : Hey, that's my ringtone! And I believe it's my phone. [answers phone] Hello, Mamimi Samejima of Mamimi Daily of Atlanta, How can I help to be in service?

Nono (via) : Mamimi Samejima are you there?

Mamimi : Hold the phone, Nono? Is that you?

Nono (via) : Of course it's me, Nono. Look there's trouble at Studio Gainax and we believed that a girl that looks alike the protagonist of that Japanese Shounen Manga is actually a demon that comprosied the studio!

[Unknown Alarm - Fumie Kumatani]

Mamimi : (realizing) What!? When!? Right now!?

Nono : [talking on the phone] Yes, right now! I don't know what's going on, but I'm definitely getting a little nervous of being feared to a demon that makes wanna wet our selves, but I don't like the looks of it. And this is really bad, this is the part where I am hiding in a closet. So, please, whatever you do, get to the studio as fast as you--*BUZZING*

Mamimi : Huh? Nono? Nono are you there? Hello? Nono?

Inky Albarn (via phone) : Sorry for the little disconnect, but Nono of Diebuster is no longer in service.

Mamimi : Hey,I know who you are. You're that demon that started the attacks in Japan back in 2003, you're Inky Albarn, Demon Queen of Bendy isn't it?

Inky Albarn (via phone) : Correct.

Mamimi : What have you done to the characters that worked at Studio Gainax?

Inky Albarn (via phone) : Maybe I was a bit thirsty all of a sudden, that's why that I decided to drink their colors, It could be something that is red with their blood. Hope it doesn't mind tasting them deliciously.

Haruko (via phone) : Hey, get your crummy hands off me!

Maimimi : Haruko? Is that Haruko?

Inky Albarn (via phone) : Now then, what should I do with you, first?

Haruko : I said get your crummy hands off me! I am not food!

Inky Albarn (via) : Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit, once I'm done drinking colos and give it all to me!

Haruko : Who says that you can drink the colors out of me? What are you Mr.Mime from PPG?

Inky Albarn (via) : Not even a cartoon villain would even do that to drain your colors, only I would do that for you. (singing-tone voice) What is like to make the Rainbow cry, sucking you up to make you dry!

Mamimi : Inky, don't do it! Don't do it, Inky!

Haruko : No please! Don't! I have a guitar and I'm not afraid to use it!

Inky Albarn : Too late!

Mamimi : INKY ALBARN, GOD DAMN IT!

Haruko : HEEEEELP!!! [phone disconnected]

Mamimi : Haruko? Naota? Guys? Oh man! I better hurry! (grabs bike and rides on quickly] Oh man! My old studio's in danger! I gotta find out what's happening out there! Something tells me that there is something wrong going on in the picture! It's no surprise that anyone's a goner is going to be and those guys are next!

[We then show a blue-hair woman in a golden one-piece swimsuit walking down the street what it appears to be Maron (Krillin's EX)]

Maron : It's not fair that Toriyama had made me keep my Golden Swimsuit on since my new boyfriend dump after I found out that his wife was thinking that she caught us cheating on her. And that is decided to leave Krillin behind and move back to my place in Oceania.

Mamimi : You! Blue-hair thot in a Golden Swimsuit that is Krillin's EX and Filler Character! Do you know a studio that originated the Gainaxing? A studio that we used work for after it's power system was cut off!

Maron : You mean your old studio, Gainax? Yeah, I heard the whole thing that demon arrived to the studio by infiltrating and began to attack the studio! I heard all over the news! They were announcing of a ceremony of being the background characters in Gainax's new show, Panty and Stocking. But then the demon cut off the power and infiltrated to attack, just to steal their true colors, rainbow colors!

Mamimi : Whatever it is, it's not looking good! Are you sure they were okay!

Maron : Could be? Probably defending their studio from ever attacked! It was happening for real, it's all because of that stupid Manga! It was like the company Square-Enix has officially becoming a nutcase over that 2008 show on TV Tokyo that ended with a horrible ending a year ago!

Mamimi : So you knew about it!? Then I have no choice but to get their on time! I'm hope! This is why I decided that I am with the truth! And I know how to make good secrets to uncover it!

Maron : Unsecond thought, could you lend me a ride so we can get there?

Mamimi : (sighs) Come on, hop on. This one got two seats

Maron : Sweet! So is this a Tandem.

Mamimi : Precisely.

[Revelation - Fumie Kumatani]

Mamimi : Let's go! Off to studio Gainax! Here's the address to the studio!

Maron : Good! The studio should be right at our destination!

"Hours of bicycling later..."

Mamimi : Alright! We finally made it to Studio Gainax, safe and sound and I hope that the cops would arrive here...[the cops are shown at the exterior of Gainax Headquarters that is now covered with ink] too soon!

[Misty - Fumie Kumatani]

*Police Sirens Wailing*

Maron : Oh my God! The studio! Everyone is still all right?

Natsumi : Hey, hands off! This area is off limits! No one has permission to enter the crime scene!

Nono : Mamimi-san! Thank goodness you have arrived!

Mamimi : Nono! What happened!? Did something went wrong at the studio?

Nono : About Studio Gainax, Yeah I guess that's about it. But you should've seen the look on your face, I've managed to survive and escaped, but apparently i've got some minor negotiations, this how it happened when that demon attacked me and did this to my body!

[It its reveal that half of Nono's body is black and white]

Mamimi : Nono...What happened to your colors?

Nono : Haven't you figured it out yet? I just found out that this demon of inky darkness has the ability to drain a fictional characters colors! It's Inky Albarn, the demon of darkness! She's one of them masterminds that is responsible for the attacks in 2003, she did framed the real Maka Albarn for a crime she did not commit! I can't believe that she go and do something like this! And now...Look what she did to my friends! [the main characters of Diebuster2 are shown with bite marks after they turned monochrome]

Mamimi : Bite marks, where these caused by a vampire that suck their blood out?

Nono : No, demons. If Vampires or demons did that to fictional characters that drain's something red with their blood, I'm beginning something that Inky Albarn was the first being from the 1930s to drain all the world's colors.

Mamimi : Nono! You're a genius! So my suggestion that the Protagonist of Soul Eater is actually a demon from the 1930s, the same decade that toons coexisted with history before Real World AU was birthed.

Maron : And don't forget about Adolf Hitler.

Mamimi : We're not talking about the Nazis. We're talking about serious facts about saving the planet from danger!

Maron : Oh, my mistake. That wouldn't be all too necessary! Come on, let's go meet with the Gainax Friends of yours and--

Para Sorceress : Don't move! Stand clear and stay where you are! State your name and Identify yourselves!

Maron : It's Maron, Maron Filler!

Mamimi : Mamimi Samejima of Mamimi Daily Station in Atlanta, Georgia, USA.

Para Sorceress : You're a newsletter person are ya? Are you with Gadd Science Industries or something else!?

Mamimi : I'm with my Newsletter station!

Drawcia : That's good. Secure the packages, get them to the labs immediately.

Para Sorceress : Yes, Ma'am.

Mamimi : Yes, ma'm? Wait, who's that?

Drawcia : You must be that paper girl immigrant from the United States, Mamimi Samejima was it?

Mamimi : Yeah, and how did you know?

Drawcia : You are deliver of truth and you gift deliver of the many stories that uncovers the secrets to Soul Eater's whereabouts. Perhaps you should that I was the one who modeled Death the Kid along with Shinra's Man-made son. In fact: Death the Kid is the last of the Kusakabe Bloodline.

Maron : Blood line? Hey, now I know who you are...You're....

"HEAD OF DRAWCIA FAMILY CORP. : DRAWCIIA THE SORCERESS."

Mamimi : You're that witch who brought the world back to it's colors, Drawcia the Sorceress. What brings you here to society in the country?

Drawcia : Hmph?

*DBZ SFX : PUNCH*

Mamimi : Oof! [gags] What...was that for!? *THUD!*

Drawcia : If you really seriously got involved of being the only ones in danger, nobody would save your ass. But if you want to see your friends getting colors, come with to my place science operation. Follow me if you want any more information.

~ Eighty-Fifth Scene : The Real Deal Pt.2 ~

[howyouloveyourdragon]

tldr; 100% one of my favourite fics i have ever read this entire post is me simping over every line i swear i had to stop myself from commenting every two seconds, i am so obsessed and so excited to read act iii if you have not started reading this series already i heavily recommend it

Aemond remembered how his brother’s silver words spilled so seamlessly from his lips and he, in return, wore his own apprehension on his aristocratic features, always sharp and always untrusting when it came to Aegon.

ooo there's something just drips wealth from this sentence

The sacrifice. The word ignited the subtle burn that would flit the length of his scar; it would be just a dull ache beneath the sapphire stone gifted by Helaena, but more often it spread with a fiery vindication.

sweet boy i just wanna send him virtual hugs

Aemond accepted this and left to find the pathway that weaved into the depths of the cosmos, towards the infinite void of the Underworld. 

poor baby so lonely

It seemed barren, only littered with the damned, both good souls and the bad, along with the spirits of the gods who lost more than just an eye during the war. All of them were just shadows of their former selves and all equally aimless in the tenebrosity of his new kingdom. 

something very poetic about this section

With his lordship came the condition and he heard the only other occupant he was aware of.  Their grandsire. 

☠️

It did not stop; it was a wrath that was palpable, a sound that buried and began to rot. It was his constant reminder that though they managed to usurp their grandsire and he was imprisoned below, he lived still. 

shivers

Alys, he assumed, the goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, and the aimless spirits that surrounded them with their gelid presence. 

SEXY MILF LADY

He would go to Mount Olympus and he would beg Aegon for another role, to tell him he could not return to that dreary realm. 

oh sweet boy someone let my baby boy go

Her hesitation aside, the familiarity of their old tongue spoken warmed his chest. 

BABE YOU CAN'T GIVE ME FEELS THIS EARLY I'M NOT EMOTIONALLY STABLE ENOUGH FOR THIS

She softened with the spoken concern and it bloomed the hope that perhaps she would be able to rescue him from this dark fate.

“I had not realized I had been gone so long, I had not realized it was spring already,” Aemond breathed, his eye wide to admire as Rhaenyra continued her flowering and the lavender of laconian thyme that now sprouted in her steps. “Truly, this is your best work, mandia.”

my beautiful little fanboy

“They could have just asked it of me,”

"BABE NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HE JUST WANTS TO PLEASE!"

“know you are not alone. I know Alys came to you. Myself, the others, we do not wish for Otto to ever return and we will help you create your kingdom.” 

His sister returned to the grey shores of the Styx and gifted him Vhagar, just a pup with a large set of eyes for each of the three heads.

aw my lovies getting along

His steps were slow, deliberate as he allowed the warmth of the sun to revitalize him,

don't mind me just singing this around the room

Peonies.   

high-key love peonies

“Those same dark curls, but it suits her more than her brothers.” He giggled.

you leave my best boy alone please at least he regularly washes his hair

“I suppose,” was all he managed to say. 

what he means:

Do you remember how he annihilated that temple?

👁👄👁

Rhaenyra looked to him and all he offered was, “Kesan jorrāelagon ziry.” A promise in their family tongue, I will take care of him. “Kirimvose,” her voice was hoarse, but grateful with new tears that glittered. Thank you.  And she was gone. 

your honour i love them

Persephone. The goddess of spring, the embodiment of vitality. A comely contrast to their sister’s golden hair and lavender eyes, but a beauty all her own. A grace with her motion, in tandem with the breeze that allowed the sweet blossom scent roll over the cosmos.

aemond i don't even blame you, i would be down bad too

“You are very predictable, lēkia,” he teased him, his brows raised and his rakish smile on his lips. “I assumed you would return to pluck the perfect flower.”  

he's so zeus vibes i can't

Though he knew that Persephone would never dare return to the Gō vys,

There was an intimacy of the moment that was not lost to him; he brought her to the Asphodel, to bring her a sense of comfort for the afterlife her companions would have, something he would personally see too. His chest swelled with pride when she asked for more, to see his kingdom and how she so willingly went to his arms. His touch was firm, but gentle to cradle her and he could feel her ichor thrum beneath as they toured the Underworld, the genuineness as she admired his kingdom. 

them >>>>>>>

She would return to him and time seemed to slip so easily between his fingers, moments so perfect and now a plethora to choose from, something he would revisit when he would inevitably be left alone. He was still aware of her sorrow, the guilt? How it shadowed behind her dauntless gaze and he knew he had to ask, that he needed to understand what brought her to his realm to begin with.  

something is so beautiful about this paragraph i'm in love

As well as her queen’s.

i love this milf

Aemond then placed his crown, iron and ruby glowing, on his head, his cape to his shoulders and checked the pin of the snapdragon he now always wore, before he left for Olympus. 

aemond on his way to be a bad bitch

A nymph was pushed from his lap as he stood, forcing his same rakish smile as he greeted him with,

pffffttt this bitch

“Surely, you know, as I know, that you would have spent eternity to silently pine for the goddess of spring?

The venomous hiss took them both by surprise and they turned to see Rhaenyra, storming towards them. Her golden hair billowed with her steps and reflected the gold fire that enveloped the lavender of her eyes; her sharp features narrowed from one to the other, before settling on Aemond. 

ugh she's so milf

“She returns to me and babbles this idea of love, Aemond,” she cried. 

Aemond knew it was laughable; the goddess of spring dare love the king of the damned,

i've read so many hades x persephone themed fics but this is by far my favourite i am genuinely obsessed

The glee on her features caused a hitch in his chest, the spark of their touch when her fingers interlaced with his own, a perfect fit. He accepted he would never see her after this night, save the shadows that crept with each spring, and he chose to indulge, allowing himself to pull her to his chest. She nestled close to him and he moved, the gleam of white of two gods escaping the shadows and embracing the night. 

In this moment, he felt he truly saw her; the veil of sorrow had been removed and tears stilled in the corners of her eyes.

you write him so tragically beautiful

There was a flush of pink that touched her porcelain skin, an inviting sight, and her eyes bore into him, the golden flame bright. She then shifted, pressing closer, and he relished in the soft touch of her body as she melted against his chest.

oh god she's beautiful too im putting the pan in panic

And then he felt the fullness of her lips touch to his own.  

She Walks in Starlight

Summary: He is the darkness and she is the light.  Paring: Aemond!Hades x OFC!Persephone Word Count: 4615 Warnings: Mention of character(s) death. It’s HotD and Greek mythology, so there will be incest.   Author’s Note: Thank you @aspen-carter​ for being my beta reader! Her work is absolutely amazing, so when she says it is good, I post. The artwork is by brina ♥ Also! Gō vys is Valyrian for Under world and Doru-borto valītsossa is dumb boys. Enjoy! Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon​ @annikin-im-panicin​ @schniiipsel​ @watercolorskyy​ @aaaaaamond​ @iiamthehybrid​ @deltamoon666​ @dahlias-and-marigolds​  Series:  Act I -  Act II - Act III

Keep reading

[growclass1]

The best Twitter threads have these 5 things in common

Writing a great Twitter thread... isn't that hard. Here's 5 things the best ones have in common (you'll wanna save this for your swipe file).

K let’s just get this out of the way real quick: on a good day, Twitter can feel like a hellscape overrun by bros standing proud on the broken bodies of overworked colleagues + daddy’s money bags to shout about how they made it all by their damn selves — so plz buy their Brand Hacking Course, thx.

But, and bear with me here, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use it.

In fact, I implore you to get on there and share your knowledge. Shine bright like a diamond and drown out the brotatoes.

Because, when used right, Twitter is an unbelievably powerful tool.

It can help you befriend your heroes, land a great job and become a thought leader.

And, honestly, it’s not that hard. It just takes some consistency, and a basic understanding of how to write for the platform (i.e. NOT tweeting “MEDIA RELEASE” with a screenshot of your press release, mmk?).

Twitter threads are an especially effective way to share what you know, helping you go beyond the 280 character count while condensing your ideas into bite-sized takeaways that people will actually want to read.

So, to help you write great Twitter threads, we’ve broken down the 5 things the best Twitter threads have in common with samples from some of our favorite folks on the platform.

1. Establish your authority.

Why should I trust you? Use numbers. 1,000 to 100,000? You have my attention.

‍Why we love this Twitter thread

Yes, Amanda’s numbers got our attention. But they’re also… a lot. Which is why we loved that she poked fun at her “bro math” while sharing an article written about how she did, in fact, grow her audience so fast.

Which leads us to our second point 👇

‍2. Up the sass.

Twitter is about hot takes. Keep it fun, creative and punchy. If you make them laugh, you have their attention.

‍Why we love this Twitter thread

How can you not click this thread? Calling something “so good it’s bad” entices the lil rascal in all of us. Plus, in tweets as succinct as his first, Aazar lays out his 10 suggestions with helpful video captures (!!) of the tools in action. What a hero.

‍3. Get to the point, fast.

Keep it to one takeaway per tweet. Give people a reason to keep reading.

‍Why we love this Twitter thread

In just 280 characters, Wes manages to give you her tips, explain why they work, and offer two examples to back them up. The limit does not exist y’all.

‍4. Be clear about the problem you’re solving.

How’s this going to help? What are you teaching?

‍Why we love this Twitter thread

When you have a problem, you want to solve it — fast. Ross gets this, and focuses this thread on offering tangible strategies you can put to use right away to break into public speaking.

‍5. Use gifts to get people to the end.

Keep it related to your thread: if you’re talking about marketing automation, include a cheatsheet with your favorite apps.

‍Why we love this Twitter thread

We’re gonna go ahead and ruin the surprise (sorry Katelyn): it’s a buyer psychology cheatsheet you can save as a screensaver for easy breezy access to all the excellent tips in this thread. We are 100% team Repurpose Content You Spent Hours On (please).

[stellar-queer-kye]

Okay but why doesn't anyone know how to research themselves

Every time you try and argue with a transphobe, enbyphobe, truscum, etc half the time their only responses are to ask for shit they can look up and find out themselves.

Like if y'all care so much to see the proof, scientific proof, etc you bitch about wanting so much, you could easily search yourselves.

Trans, enby, LGBT people, etc are not here to do research for you, especially not if it's something we already know and understand.

It gets tiring when y'all expect us to cater y'all with shit like that.

Seriously, do your own fucking research or go the fuck away.

[allegra-writes]

"The Game"

Tom Holland x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink.

Golf is boring. You wanna play something else...

"Swinging on the front porch, swinging on the floor.

Swinging where we want, cause there ain't nobody home..."

Cherry Pie - Warrant

He should have known it was a trap. He should have known it from the very first minute. This was punishment, plain and simple punishment. Unusually cruel punishment. He didn't even know why he was so surprised, in fact, he should have seen it coming a mile away. After all, you were about as subtle as a train wreck. And that was exactly how you had hitted him. 

You had always despised golf, said it was snobbish and boring. But he always invited you to tag along just in case, because sharing one of his favorite activities with his favorite girl? That sounded almost like paradise to him. That was probably the reason why that morning, when you had jumped at the chance to join him at the country club, he hadn't suspected a thing.

Oh, how naive he was. How trusting of him. Because now, he had to play 18 while trying to conceal a throbbing, almost painful erection, watching you prance around wearing that. It was ridiculous. It was silly. It was cliche.

It was driving him completely insane.

Your little ensemble was straight out of some soft-porn movie set, he was sure of it: Keds, knee high socks… and a criminally short pleated skirt, especially designed to torture him. You guys weren't even half way through, and he was already about to snap, with his arms enveloping you, hands over yours on the handle of the club, as you bended over just a little, ass pressing against his pelvis just enough to tease him, to remind him how good it felt being buried to the hilt inside your tight, tight heat, the slapping sounds of skin against skin combining with your moans...

One of his hands let go of the club, subconsciously wrapping itself over your hip bone, when you moved, twisting, hips getting away from his. 

"Oh my god! I can't believe it, did you see that?" You turned around to face him, eyes alight with joy at having hit the ball for the first time in your life. 

And for a second, he felt bad. He was probably reading too much into it, chances were you didn't even know what you were doing to him. You were innocent in all that, it wasn't your fault not knowing just how damn irresistible you were, how hard you made him just by standing close to him…

Until he noticed the outline of your nipples under your white t-shirt, made almost see through under the bright sunlight. His eyes squinted in suspicion.

"Are you wearing any underwear?" He blurted out, cheeks immediately turning red, looking around to make sure no one had heard him. But there was no one around, not many people playing on a wednesday morning. In fact, you had the whole course pretty much for your selves.

His cock twitched inside his pants, but he shook himself, squashing the thought before it could take full shape.

You seemed to ignore him, as your face fell.

"I… don't think I was supposed to shoot it that way, though" 

Tom's eyes followed yours, but try as he might, he couldn't find the white dot he was looking for.

"Where the hell did it go?"

"I think it landed behind those bushes" You pointed to the far away patch of hydrangeas on the other side of the field. He couldn't help the snort that left his mouth,

"Yeah, that's not even close to where it should be!"

"Hey! Don't laugh at me"

"I mean, at least we know you have a strong swing" He let out between laughs

You rolled your eyes,

"Be gentle with me, this is my first time" 

The laughter died in his throat like you knew it would, as the innuendo hit him, eyes darkening as they roved over your body once again. You had to know what you were doing... 

You turned around so he couldn't see your smirk, as you started walking in big strides in the direction of the bushes, leaving him to struggle to follow you, carrying the bag full of clubs. 

It wasn't a bad sight, he had to admit, watching you walk ahead of him, your skirt bouncing with your movements, hips swaying gently from side to side. And it was even better as you reached the tall plants, parting the branches trying to see past them, bending over once again, your short skirt riding up your thighs, higher, and higher. He gulped, what little blood was left in his brain rushing south, as he saw the cleft where the round globes of your ass met your legs. You climbed on your tiptoes, and he choked on a groan: just a little bit more and the answer to whether you had or not any underwear on would be right before his eyes, literally…

"Found it!" You called out, victorious, falling to your heels again, walking around the lilac flowers, disappearing from sight, heedless to his disappointment. 

He knew it was a bad idea, as he trailed after you, like in a trance. But there you were, waiting for him behind the tall wall of bushes hiding you both from sight from every angle, mischievous glint in your eye.

The ball was nowhere to be found, and he finally understood.

Your stomach made a flip as Tom tugged at his glove with his teeth, discarding it on the green grass, his whole demeanor changing before your eyes, jaw squaring, eyes hardening, movements slow and measured as he circled you like a tiger stalking his prey. 

"You dirty little liar" He accused, watching the corners of your mouth twitch, trying to hide your satisfied smile, but it was useless: you looked every bit like the cat that got the cream. Well, he knew of another thing that looked great dripping down your chin…

"You think you're real clever, don't you? Really sneaky, teasing me all morning with this little outfit," He let his now naked hand trace your nipples, already hard under the fabric of your tee, making goosebumps erupt on your skin. He was right, you hadn't bothered with a bra, "making me hard with your little touches and smart mouthed comments…"

"Golf is boring" You shrugged, "I wanna play something else" 

He stepped back, away from you, leaving you feeling cold without his heat, despite the bright sunshine. 

"Too bad, baby girl, I'm done with games" His eyes were steel as he commanded, "Show me"

"Show you what?" You looked at him through your eyelashes, you knew how much he liked it when you played coy. But this time, he had told you the truth, the games were over.

"You know bloody well what" His south London accent was always heavy when his patience was wearing thin, "lift that little skirt and show me what's mine" 

You obeyed, and this time, he did groan, the wet patch on the simple white cotton of your thong almost better than his fantasies of your bare skin. 

He fell to his knees on the grass. God, he was so whipped! His plan had been to have you kneeling in front of him, choking on his cock as he fucked your mouth so deep and hard that tears would stream down your face. He would release himself down your throat, leaving you begging for his softening cock, his fingers, his tongue, his freaking golf club, anything to fill your empty little cunt. But of course all of that flew out the window the second he actually saw that pretty pussy through your panties, made almost transparent with your desire for him, the fabric clinging to every curve, every little detail clear for him to admire.

"Come here, baby girl" His tone was much softer as he spoke, "let daddy have a little taste" 

You did as you were told, never stopping to hold your skirt up high for him. Tom nuzzled the cotton, breathing you in before hooking one finger on the damp fabric, tugging gently to the side to reveal your most secret spot to him. He let his tongue poke out, placing kitten licks against your clit, eyes rising to meet your face. Your own were closed already, little frown between your eyebrows, as if the tiny shocks of pleasure coursing through your body confused you. So expressive. So responsive. 

How could he ever stay mad at you when you were so fucking perfect? It only took one taste of you to melt whatever was left of his anger, as he marveled of the angel whining so prettily above him, delicate fingers digging into his shoulders to support herself as her legs shook for him. It never failed to amaze him, to blow his mind. It had always been like that, he had put you up on a pedestal long before you had started dating. 

But now, he wanted to lay you down, and spread you open under the sun. 

He tsked at your huff as his tongue left you.

"No, baby, you don't get to complain today. You've been a very bad girl, so now," He helped you down onto your back on the grass, making quick work of your panties. Taking a hold of your ankles, he hooked them over his shoulders, aligning himself with your dripping center, "you're going to take my cock like a good girl" 

With that, he let his head breach you, entering you slowly, so slowly. Savoring every second, sliding in inch by inch, making you feel every millimeter of his thick, thick length as he buried it into your sweet pussy, stretching you to the limits of pleasure. He had you fold almost in half, as his pelvis finally met yours. You sighed, you had thought he would burst through your ovaries before he was completely seated inside you.

"Can you feel me, babygirl? Feel how deep I am?" 

You nodded, unable to form words. He relented, only a couple of inches, before surging back in. 

"Feel me stretching your tight little cunt? Fuck, it feels so snug…"

He drew back again, snapping back against you harder, making you cry out,

"Yes!"

"Only I can fill you like this" He breathed, in and out again, and again. And again, establishing a harsh rhythm, "This pussy belongs to me…" 

"Yes, daddy" You sobbed, obediently. By now you knew exactly what he wanted to hear. He tugged at your t-shirt, sneaking his hand under it, massaging your breast. 

"These pretty tits are mine…"

It was hard to concentrate with him railing you into the ground, fast, brutal. Making sure the base of his cock dragged against your clit just right with every thrust.

"Yours, daddy" You managed, somehow, earning yourself a smile. If wolves could really smile at lambs before gobbling them right up...

He leaned forwards, bracing himself on one arm, the other travelling from your chest, to your neck. To your jaw. His tumb caressed your lower lip, and you opened up to him. Two of his fingers slid inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, you sucked them eagerly, hollowing your cheeks just the way he liked. 

"My princess… so pretty with your mouth full" Tom praised, hips never stopping, plunging his cock into you as far as it would go, over and over again, "wanna fuck your beautiful face… but this pussy… feels too good"

You sobbed around his fingers.

"So good… won't let me go… a slave" His thrusts were becoming messy. Erratic. Tom took his fingers out of your mouth to flick your clit with them.

"No, Tommy! Too much…" You cried, pushing at his hand, overstimulated. But he wouldn't budge. 

"Don't care. You're gonna take it" He growled, but sweetly kissed away your tears. He needed you to come, fast. Because there was no way he was lasting much longer, and you knew what to say if you really wanted him to stop anyway. 

"Fuck… yeah, just like that" he could feel you tensing around him. You were almost there, and he was right behind you, "so good… gonna come, baby girl. Gonna come inside you…" 

You shook your head, too delirious to express it with words, but he knew. You didn't like feeling dirty, didn't like the smell. But he fucking loved it. 

"Oh yeah… gonna fill you up… and you're not getting those panties back" His smirk was devilish, filthy. And you were sure that, even without his cock jackhammering into you, you could have come from that look alone. "Gonna see myself dripping down your thighs as you walk…"

His movements were downright sloppy now, as his words edged himself as much as they were edging you.

"Gonna have you sit in the car just like that… ruin your fucking little skirt… OH, FUCK" 

You felt his cock swell, pumping his seed inside your loins. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming, as his climax unleashed your own. Still, he kept moving,

"Gonna put your mouth around me while I drive…" There was no way the morning was ending without him having your mouth.

"Tom…" You could feel him begin to soften inside you, but he still wouldn't stop.

"Shhh, baby girl. Wanna make a mess…"

The end.

Buy me a coffee

[nationmckinleyscorset]

Completing thisss

Nah fr I'd be so mad if I was giving a presentation and someone was humming

"Love?" Fucking hippie

"A reckless lunatic sits in the whitehouse" never have truer words been spoken

Oop fugative Jimmy

"I love you even if you do have pudgy fingers" 💀

Don't trust the brownie my boy

Idiot

What is happening

This song is me when my mental health gets bad 💀 brownies hit different when you're sad

He's fucking a brownie? I- what?

Mae is so protective of Jimmy I love it

At least he finally got the ring off

Why is Jimmy humping Sally's leg like a bulldog?

Mary lane's smile has too many teeth imo, i feel like she'd bite me and not in a good way 😂

Oh my god he's like a dog he's going for everything pillars, furniture... Mary come collect your animal

I can actually see Mary being infatuated with Paris

Her eyes are killing me

Mary really I'd like the Janet of Reeder madness, I know I've already said it but it's true

The website I'm watching on keeps freezing and annoying me lol

"You'll forget the word no" I'm not too sure I like the way this is going

I wish I could say I wasn't expecting it but I keep comparing it to rocky horror so it only makes sense that she'd have a dramatic transformation in which she switches from pink to black and red

Love the fact we have the same nails rn XD

What in the 50 shades

"Whips, nip clips and candle wax" ON HER FIRST TIME?

I'm laughing so hard rn and I probably shouldn't be

She's such a top 😂

Tbf... it was one or the other. One of them was gonna get assaulted and I'd rather it was a guy with bad intentions than Mary sooo (Not justifying this)

"Shut up bitch 👊🏻" damnnn ok

That looks low-key painful

Get schooled Kochinski

NOT THE TONGUE

Ok wait im thinking hear me out. So Mary and Sally look alike, some kid who looks like Jimmy just showed up to the house, it's like a cycle: 2 kids get corrupted and become like Sally and the other guy who's name I can't remember and they keep bringing in kids similar to their younger selves. I honestly am probably just slow and that's probably obvious.

Who got shot?!?!?! OH MY GOD NO! NO NO NO!

Smelling salts aren't gonna help her you idiot she's dead

Oh I'm dumb lol

Yeah forget my theory she can't continue the cycle if she's DECEASED

irrelevant but Mae's got a murderess robe 💀I already know how this ends so I find that hilarious

A deathbed proposal? Aww lol

"We're happy, young and... hemorrahging blood 😁"

No honey romeo and juliet die know👏🏻your👏🏻shakespeare👏🏻

That's so sad though omg

That's a lot of blood jeeez

If they let Jimmy go doen for this imma throw hands

Mae please

If she doesnt tell the truth-

LMAO he said Mae please too 😂

STOP

OMG I TAKE BACK EVERYTHING NICE I SAID ABOUT HER

well, not everything but DAMN

DEATH ROW?!?!??!?!?!?!??!?!

"IM... FINE... perfectly in control" relatable

Ralph being haunted by Jimmy is the funniest thing I've seen in a while

And now Mary is dancing with the devil WTFFFFF

Is she dressed as a maid?

This entire movie is such a trip but I think that's the whole idea 😂

Just realised their entire garden is growing weed 💀 reminds me of my dad's friends house 😊🤣

His dark circles are more prominent than Riff Raff's

Zombie flash mob timeee

If Sally dies I'll be so pissed

STOP

HE DID NOT

OMG I'm gonna throw up wtf

Mae screaming is literally me rn

Why have so many of the movies I've seen this week involved somebody getting parts of them getting bitten off

BROSKI WONT DIE

#justiceforsally

Sally was my second favourite character thoughhhhh

"Now I know that once you see you can't unsee" - Carrie The Musical

OMG HES STILL ALIVE THIS BITCH I SWEAR-

Oh to walk like mae XD

OMG what in the repo the genetic opera

Skewered like blind mag no disrespect to my girl or anything

Finally he's dead

OMG WHAT IS HAPPENING I low key wanna draw that now - Sally's body emerging from the garden

Satan's really just chilling with them all 😂

So are there more bodies in the garden? Cos there's more dead people than the number we've seen killed in the movie

The voices in my head when I'm trying to pay attention to someone giving me directions: (/j)

Jack had better die

OMG everybody shut up Mae's about to sing

TAKE. YOUR. HANDS. OFF. HER. TITS.

I hate that she's trying to be empowered but Jack's just stood there smacking her up

IT WASNT LOADED YES

Omg slayyy Mae

Definitely gotta cosplay her

Yes baby beat his ass 😂

Knowing how this ends is making this concerning cos like I know it gets so graphic

Jaw on the floor (just like Jack's body)

All the people walking out after that presentation traumatised 🤣

Stop omg that's way too coincidental

Just putting on lipstick like she's not covered in blood

She hit te floor (She hit the floor!) shawty got low low low low low low low (sorry it had to be done)

Does anybody survive this movie?

I hate that this is the norm for most movies I watch now

Is Jimmy gonna live? WAIT

Jimmys last words: "um..."

YAY!

Oml get him out the chair and cut the small talk 💀

Not the last minute Annie references 😂

Why is nobody questioning the fact that Mae is drenched in Jack's blood?

You choose: Paddington 2, Chicago, or Reefer Madness - who had the best prison musical number?

What am I watching?

The best American propaganda I've ever seen 🤣😭

Is Sally the same actress as Lady Liberty?

Cutting down the weed factory? Now it's definitely like my dad's friends house IM KIDDING JEEZ

did Satan just die? How? What?

And Mary went to heaven XD

"One day I'll get cancer or hit by a train!!! 😁😊😍"

Wtf was that ending oh my god (referring to the heaven scene)

I'd die laughing if the fire at the pep rally was the burning weed (Is it a pep rally? I'm British idk)

Final thoughts

Would i watch it again? Absolutely

Recommend it to a friend? Definitely

Favourite character? Mae

Was the music good? It was amazing 😂

@little-whats-her-name thank you so much for drawing my attention to this

Best of a hilarious play-by-play of people watching Reefer Madness for the first time that I found on the liveblog

[therealvinelle]

I know this is like taking a bat to the beehive but... I really wanna hear your opinions on the whole... Imprinting thing

(Note before we go any further: this meta is written purely about the shapeshifting aspect of the Quileute characters, I don’t at all get into the racism in Twilight or any kind of social commentary. This is a purely watsonian meta. Others in this fandom have already addressed the racial dynamics at play, far more eloquently and knowledgeably than me. If I say something in here that’s in any way offensive, that’s not my intention and I’m open to criticism.)

Ooh imprinting.

I touch upon it here, basically I hate it.

The imprinting is part of this theme where the shapeshifters lose their free will and autonomy, and I find it tragic, cruel, and unnecessary.

First of, the fact that they have to phase at all.

They’re made warriors to protect their tribe. There’s no choice involved, only genetics and magic irrevocably changing their lives, and at a ridiculously young age, too. Sam is the oldest of them, and he is 19.

Violence is an inherent part of what they become. Their purpose is to protect the tribe, by fighting vampires. Not only is this insanely dangerous (we see Jake get so injured by a single vampire that he’s bedridden for weeks), but if they succeed, they will have killed. In the singularly brutal manner of tearing apart and burning someone who looks a lot like a human, who talks and might beg for their life, at that. And I remind you, most of these shapeshifters are literal children. They might not see vampires as people, but all the same, killing one can’t be good for their mental wellbeing. (Thought: Perhaps an argument can be made for Laurent’s death having a part in the turn Jake’s personality took? Some, though not many, of the symptoms for PTSD do fit. I don’t know enough about PTSD to pursue this train of thought, but it occurred to me just now, in particular he becomes quite aggressive and prone to outbursts after that incident, so into a parenthesis it goes)

Not to mention how inhumane that responsibility is. Vampires in the Twilight-verse are terrifying, and the shapeshifters might have the power to fight them. But (and this is where I plug one of my all-time favorite animes, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, as it asks the question “Is it okay to sacrifice yourself for others?” because that’s... well there’s a parallel to be made to the shapeshifters. It’s on Netflix!) does that mean they should? Is it really their responsibility? Again- they’re kids!

Then there’s the time Sam lost control, and accidentally mauled the girl he loved. And it’s so cruel to both him and Emily. Sam never chose to have to control himself in the first place, he never chose shapeshifting. He didn’t choose to imprint on Emily either, and he didn’t choose to lose control that day. At no point in the series of events that led to Emily being mauled did Sam have any real choice, and yet he will shoulder the guilt for what happened for the rest of his life.

These kids get superpowers, and several of them seem to enjoy being shapeshifters, but the fact remains that they now carry this huge responsibility to protect their families and homes, doing so is incredibly dangerous, they lose out on their regular lives, and they can’t opt out of it.

This all sucks, but then we get to the fact that they are deprived of their free will, as their alpha can issue an order they physically can’t break. The alpha becomes alpha because of bloodlines, not because of a democratic election. Jake got a mockery of a choice in that he could choose to become alpha himself, or let Sam continue, which was really just choosing between a rock and a hard place. There is no limitation to what this order can be, from “don’t say X to person Y” to “let’s kill someone you love”. Jake has to struggle to break that last one, and he’s only successful because of the bloodline thing letting him become his own alpha.

Oh, and there’s the massive invasion of privacy when they have a hive mind. Cool concept, less cool to have it be reality. Leah is the poster child for how a hive mind can backfire, and they can’t opt out of this.

I’m not good at gifs, but the shapeshifters just make me think of that gif of someone flicking a lightswitch on and off, “WELCOME TO HELL!”. Of course, Twilight in general is a pit of despair for everybody, so I suppose that gif really is... well it sums up all of canon.

So, we have these kids aged 19 or younger, as of Breaking Dawn they skew as young as thirteen, their lives are turned upside down by something they can’t opt out of, they must shoulder this huge responsibility to protect their homes and families from the terrifying threat of vampires, and on top of all of that, they must obey orders that are so irresistible, they can compel them to harm someone they care for.

With all of that in mind, you’d think that the shapeshifters had enough on their plate. That through all of this they would at least retain their selves, and be able to look forward to a future where they could stop phasing, and go on to live normal, human, lives.

Yeah, NOT IF THEY IMPRINT.

I’ll just quote Jake’s description:

Everything inside me came undone as I stared at the tiny porcelain face of the halfvampire, half-human baby. All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in swift cuts, like clipping the strings to a bunch of balloons. Everything that made me who I was—my love for the dead girl upstairs, my love for my father, my loyalty to my new pack, the love for my other brothers, my hatred for my enemies, my home, my name, my self—disconnected from me in that second—snip, snip, snip—and floated up into space. 

I was not left drifting. A new string held me where I was. 

Not one string, but a million. Not strings, but steel cables. A million steel cables all tying me to one thing—to the very center of the universe. 

I could see that now—how the universe swirled around this one point. I’d never seen the symmetry of the universe before, but now it was plain. 

The gravity of the earth no longer tied me to the place where I stood. (Breaking Dawn, page 237)

Everything that made me who I was disconnected from me.

Jake’s love for his father, his home, his very own self, it’s all gone now. And while I have thoughts on the authenticity of this imprint, whether it was organic, the description above is apparently how imprinting feels. It’s along the lines of what Sam, Jared, and Paul all describe.

I don’t think I can put into words just how devastating I find imprinting, I think the above quotation speaks for itself. And as with all other shapeshifter things, there is no choice involved.

We see its devastating effects in the Emily, Sam, and Leah debacle. Sam and Leah were serious together, so much so that they were engaged. Sam had fallen for and chosen to be with Leah. Perhaps they would have broken up eventually, but Leah was still the choice he made. Then he imprints on Emily, and all that is for naught. He had to break up with Leah, who if she hadn’t phased never would have learned why, Emily and Leah’s relationship is ruined, and Emily must forever live with the knowledge that if Sam had his free will intact he would be with another woman.

Then there’s Jared and Kim. Kim crushed on Jared, but Jared never noticed her. The fact that they were in the same class is damning: if a boy is attracted to a girl, he's gonna notice her. Jared never did.

Quil imprints on Claire, who is a toddler. That’s just a recipe for misery and disaster all around.

And I’ve only touched the shapeshifter side of things. They lose their autonomy and freedom, but the imprintées draw the short straw too. They’re now responsible for this other person’s happiness. Sure, having someone who’ll be whatever you need them to be sounds nice (well, it sounds horrifying, but I’m playing ball) on paper, but you can’t opt out of them being like that. The imprintée can’t say “Sorry, not interested,” and she certainly can’t shut the imprinter out of her life, not without irrevocably ruining the imprinter’s life. The imprinter needs her. She’s the center of his earth now, but she didn’t choose to be.

Imprinting is a liferuiner for everyone involved.

Then we have the question of what imprinting is even for. I’m afraid I agree with Billy, that it’s for procreation. We see Sam, who was dating a woman about to phase (even if Leah isn’t infertile, she’s a warrior now. She can’t run in the woods and fight vampires, and gestate and nurse a child at the same time) conveniently imprint on her cousin, who as cousin to Leah is from a shifter bloodline. Claire, as Emily’s cousin, has those same genetics. Paul imprints on a woman from the Black family line. Jake is the outlier, but either Renesmée’s gift helped that imprinting along, or he imprinted because of the offspring they could potentially have (I firmly believe it’s the former because the latter... NOPE. Also, I can’t imagine whatever magic drives imprinting would want vampiric progeny for the future generations. Regardless of Renesmée’s person, her biology is wired to desire human blood. That’s exactly what Jake is supposed to protect people from. Bad match.).

I just.... ughhh. God, I hate imprinting so much, and on every level.

To me, everything about the shapeshifters is about free will, autonomy, and the loss thereof. And it would have been beautiful if their story was about reclaiming that, but it isn’t. None of this, with the exception of the alpha orders, is even acknowledged.

So, in summation, yes I hate imprinting, but it’s only the horror cherry on top of a very sad and problematic cake.

[ciaran-archive]

Sorry to pry but can you elaborate on the authenticity post and what you don’t like about Ender’s Game? I don’t mean this in an accusatory way btw I genuinely wanna hear you complain about it.

WHY YES I WOULD LOVE TO BITCH ABOUT ENDER'S GAME

my fatal flaw as a person is that i cannot stop thinking about ender's game . like this book lives in my head in a way that far better books i've read just don't and i think that's partly because it did so much to me.

i read it when i was, 13, i think? like. i was just kind of figuring out that i was queer, i was weirdly uncomfortably obsessed with m/m relationships, even the vaguest implication of lesbianism made me feel sick and awful, i was pretty depressed, i had very few friends, and i wasn't....in a good place at all.

and i read ender's game and it kind of maybe saved my life? it showed me that being alone and being lonely weren't inherently a death sentence. it allowed me something i still don't have a name for. ender and valentine and peter felt like facets of a reality i nearly had, and in their reflection i could be something more like myself. who knows where i would have been but for ender's game!

it also fucked me up so bad.

one of the core messages of ender's game - and of a lot of OSC's other work - is that you cannot be truly Original, and you can't Create Anything Worth Creating, if you derive from the work of others. to make something Really Great you must isolate all your creativity and not allow anything else to influence it or it will be tainted and suspect forever. like not in those words but in that essence, that was clearly one of the subtexts of the book.

the other core message is "it is necessary for adults to hurt children; it is irresponsibly stupid as a child, especially a clever child, to trust that adults will ever not hurt you" and combined with the valorized loneliness of the first message it kind of.......still messes me up? and one of the reasons it fucked me up was because i was so bad at adhering to its lessons.

and that's my problem with ender's game at the end of the day: it's like drinking nuclear waste water when you're dying of thirst. like yeah it'll save your life but it'll also teach you how to justify doing the worst things possible (to yourself and others) and i was damned lucky that fiction was my first outlet for those urges and justifications because good god i don't like thinking about what it would've been like directed at myself without any barriers! and it was pretty bad even so!

OSC is also wildly unreasonably and rabidly homophobic so there's, uh, that. To Deal With.

the thing about authenticity is that it doesn't really exist. there's no true self, only selves less articulated or entirely unacknowledged for whatever reasons. sometimes those selves aren't given form because they have nothing to do with us. but we exist in a constant state of becoming; we are built in relation to our surroundings, and we can never strive to be free of influence. isolation is its own form of torture.

there are no authentic cultures either, only arbitrary markers we place in our pasts to delineate the "real" from the "influences" like every culture isn't a snapshot of its moment in time. things are always changing and turning into something new. they rarely become more "themselves" because the idea that you can strip away everything an outsider gave you and still end up with something either real or worth having is....kind of sad, really? do you want to know the person you are without everyone you've ever loved?

it's one thing to talk about capitalism and the commodification of the self and cults of personality and another to act like the very act of articulating your identity in a series of labels/aesthetics/shiny online things inherently corrupts your "soul". this process exists offline also; we are always building ourself to be approved of or disapproved of or reacted to or ignored by the people around us.

but people get really bogged down in the idea of authenticity and the specter of a real self that can be accessed by jumping through various hoops (go offline! go on instagram! make a succulent garden! get a tiktok! buy this thing!). and then they start acting superior because they don't need the internet to feel like their "real self" - as a friend said, sounds like they have a surprising amount of ability to be their real self with parents and bosses and cops - like i'm sorry! some of us are queer and trans and autistic and can't access an offline social group! and even if i did i would prefer to be online a lot of the time: the internet is full of spaces where i'm safe and in control, and that's just harder irl. and my experiences aren't any less valuable than those of someone with different ones.

...anyway, that's on authenticity.

[kashimos-hajime]

no regrets (8/8) | r.b.

summary: For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Or, Reiner finally understands what peace is.

WARNINGS: MANGA SPOILERS!!! angst, mentions of violence, we get our happy ending :) pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 6.7k

a/n: welcome to the last chapter!! thank you so much for being on this journey with me. there are a few callbacks to previous chapters so see if you can catch ‘em all heheh 

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

Few months ago ymir asked if I could let her write one last letter to krista, and I did let her. I stood over her shoulder the whole time, watching her pen down all this sappy shit and I kept thinking about you the whole time, behind those walls. What you were doing, what you were thinking. Maybe if you thought about me. I dont know.

I’m starting to see the appeal of wrting what youre not strong enough to say to a persons face. I never thought Id find myself on the other end of this stick. for some reason, I thought that I could stop myself, resist the temptation, or maybe that I didnt feel for you as strong as I thought I did once I was away from you. I was wrong.

What do I even say? I mean shit, I can barely see, my limbs are barely in tact, and all of it—shiganshina, it haunts me, even though I cant really remember it that well. Half of it goes black and then I remember hearing your voice, I remember Bertholdt, I remember you screaming.

You couldve walked away. why didnt you walk away? It doesn’t make sens. Why did you think to cut me out? Why did you try to save me? Im trying to make it make sense inmy head. It’s not working.

Fuck I dont know what I was thinking when I asked for a paper and pen. Why am I asking you questions? Its not like ill ever understand. At this point, I think it’s pity thats letting Zeke let me waste ink on trying to write straight. He doesn’t know what im doing, but thats better this way. Better than sleeping—better than eating. I just wanna talk to you and this is as close as I can get. Its my own damn fault, but I dont care. 

I completed my mission. After this, im done. ill give up the rest of my term. I dont want any of that glory anymore. I dont want to be a hero. Im just done.

Fuck, my head hurts so much. I dont really know if what im saying is making sense. Im hoping you never read this.

im sorry. I wish I could explain it to you some day, but chances are, ill be dead soon. Whether for treason or because they need to pass on the Titan, and I wont be able to see you again. Which means youll never know how sorry I am. How much I

Thats okay. I dont think youd believe me now even if I did say anything.

I remember your dream to live by the lake with a bunch of kids. You know I started to wonder if youd mind if they were our kids, not just some orphans who needed a home. I’d imagine one of them with blond hair. Imagine them swimming in the lake.

Never told you that was my dream too. Never knew i could have a dream of my own, something only I wanted and not just something to further marleys damn agenda, til I knew you. Sounds stupid but its true.

I think youd like Marley, if we weren’t sworn enemies. Just want you here with me right now. make me sleep easier knowing you’re there when I wake up. 

Dont want secrets either. Fuck I miss you so bad. I feel s o tired all the time. 

I rember when i first saw you all could think about was how you were the most prettiest girl id ever seen. I don know if you know thats why I tried to distance myself. Knew I couldn’t get distracted from my mison. happened anyway. Wish I could tell you that. 

wish I could tell you I love you. Wish I could see the look on yur face when you try lobster for the first time. Youd love it. Not sweet, but tons of desserts here too.

Shit. And the ring on your finger. ill put a ring on your finger. I promised. i swear ill go home and buy a ring for the moment I see you again. Might not be pretty but will do the best I can.

Olnly wnat only wnat only want to see you again and beg for your forgiveness. Let you know if I had a choice, I wouldnt have done it. Would take it all back, nd stay. i wanted to stay, stay with you and the others. I used to want to spend the rest of my life in those walls, now I think im sick and tired of them dividing people who arent even that differnet.

My eyes are beginning to burn. Worse because the skin is sitll growing back. Fucking hell god I miss you. miss your smile more.

I know i dont deserve your forigvneess forgiveness. I want you to be angry with me. I deserve as much, and I cant ask you to, but 

With love,

Rienr

You fold the letter, eyes closing as your fingers trace where the ink bled, the old tear stains wrinkling the paper beyond measure. Some are older than others, and you trace over his name again, your eyes burning, your throat tight enough to suffocate.

You’re leaning against the wall as everyone disembarks. They had taken Eren off first, Hange and the others getting ready to depart for the city while Connie and Jean lift a covered stretcher too white for the vivacious girl that lays dead beneath it.

They pass you silently, and you catch sight of a certain captain approaching, his pale eyes nearly swallowed by the shadows haunting his face.

“Captain,” you say, straightening. Placing the letter back into the tin, you slide it back into your pocket as he folds a green jacket over his shoulder. You give him a nod.

“You made it out alive,” Levi observes. He stops beside you, eyes more focused on what’s ahead. No doubt he’s not looking forward to having to take Zeke to wherever he needs to go—somewhere far, far away from Eren. You cross your arms. 

“It’s good to see you, too, Levi,” you intone. Sighing, you step in beside him and look out at the Walls you can’t see in the distance, your entire body wrought with a strange fatigue that’s only sewn into muscles by adrenaline leaving the body. “I think I’m going to stay.” He tilts his head to you, eyes flickering to your face, and you mirror the shift, your arms tightening. “I can’t leave this unfinished. Not after Liberio.”

“The farm will have to be abandoned,” he points out. “The kids, too.”

“I’ll make sure I move them where someone can take care of them. Somewhere north, far away from the brothers,” you assure, although still, your heart begins to sink and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply. “I have to hope they understand.”

Levi only nods, and you open your eyes as he wordlessly takes the jacket off his arm and offers it to you. Grasping it wearily, you open your mouth to ask questions but he only sets off, back towards the cabin where Zeke is still being held, and you snap your jaws shut, looking down at the jacket.

When you unfold it, you swallow the hard rock in your throat at the blue and white slipping beween the folds of olive green before there’s a sharp whistle. Looking up, you see the carriages already beginning to load up, and you glance back at the door where the captain has disappeared through before jogging down the ramp.

You slither your arms through the sleeves and shuffle the fabric along your frame as something thumps against your thigh, and you frown, reaching down into your pocket and coming into contact with something smooth and hard.

Withdrawing, your lips part at the green bolo tie gleaming in the lights of the port and you, without another thought, pull it over your head, letting it fall against your breastbone. 

“For your services to the Survey Corps.”

There’s no time to second-guess now. No time to debate.

“Good to have you back,” Hange murmurs as you walk towards the carriage taking Mikasa, Armin, and the others back to the city. You tug the lapels of the jacket tighter around yourself and flash them a weak smile. 

The Wings of Freedom on your arm feel like a brand, and it prickles your skin as you climb in after them.

.

Distantly, he remembers flashes. 

Eren reaching forward for Zeke, the exhaustion ripping him every which way, the sound of ODM gear whizzing in his ears as he tries to make sense of the punctured sensation in his armour.

How he had softened his nape, intending to die then. At least, let his death have some meaning, he had thought. Let him make one last effort to repent for everything he did to Paradis, and to his friends who’d been more family than his own mother.

He slips in an out of consciousness for the next few days. He doesn’t know what is up, what is down, but he does recognize his surroundings blearily, the way his head spinning somehow slowing when he presses his temple to the wooden floor.

How can he almost hear your voice in the echoes of the panels, countered by someone who almost sounds like Annie before he drifts off again.

When Reiner finally regains consciousness again, he wakes to someone crouched down in front of him. Jerking up, he lets out a sound before a palm slaps over his mouth and your face is shoved against his own.

“Shut it,” you whisper fiercely. “It’s just me.”

Your name muffled by your own hand, his eyes begin to burn and you lift your palm away as he sits up and you draw back. You’re dressed in clothes that look like they’ve seen better days but you’re relatively uninjured as you pull back. New lines adorn your face—one of the many prices of their damned war—and you only look exhausted. 

Sitting up, Reiner’s whole body groans as he leans against the wall, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Your hands are hovering around his body like you’re scared he’ll collapse and there’s a fracture in your mask.

Something gleams on your finger and his eyes flit to it, his heart lurching when he realizes what it is.

The ring. You’re wearing it. You…

For a moment, a glimmer of their teenage selves shine through and he wants to reach for it—touch it so he can remember what it’s like to be happy. He thinks it’s an awful like now; the swelling of his heart so big he can’t breathe; the way his lungs are static in his chest; how he can’t say anything because there are so many words that want to come out first.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” he finally settles on raspily. Your eyes glint with a youthful pain as you nod.

“So are you.” 

And he doesn’t know who moves first—you or him. Nothing is forgiven as their bodies crash in an embrace that lacks grace, but they cling onto another like the world is ending and they’re the only ones left standing. 

Maybe they are.

He buries his face in your neck, and your arms are so tight around him your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body melts against his and his skeleton sags in his own body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, eyes fluttering shut. “I‘m sorry.” A hand against your neck and an arm around your waist, he wraps his legs around your own and traps you against him. You seem to only sink into him even more.

Is that enough? I don’t want you to hate me.

You suck in a breath, and then it comes out shuddering. “You can spend the rest of what life you have left repenting for making me fall in love with a man who was always supposed to die.”

Softly, in his mind, your voice cools the searing heat of hatred inside him. It’s enough. It has to be.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. It’s like they’re the only words he knows. He can’t remember ever meaning it this much. For him dying, for making you love him, for ever coming to Paradis. For loving you. For loving you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know. I know.” Your face turns to press against his own. Your lips brush against his jaw and his eyes slide shut, tears rolling down his face. “I read every single one of your letters.” Drawing back, you cup his face in his hands and your fingers smear his tears all over his cheeks as his palm rests against your neck. Thumb stretching up to touch your chin, he feels sobs shuddering in his throat at seeing you again—looking at him almost like you used to. “I can’t begin to understand, but I know you are. And I know you love me.”

Choking, he gasps, “You should hate me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” You’re crying, too, voice thick, tears stubborn on your cheeks as you give him a watery smile. “I should hate Marley, too. But it’s beautiful there. The water by the sea… I want to be there with you next time. We need to go together, before you leave me alone, okay?”

Reiner doesn’t quite hear you. He hears Marley, and beautiful, and he’s never noticed how beautiful you are when you cry, but right now, it’s the simplest truth he knows. 

“Okay.”

When you tilt his chin up and kiss him softly, something inside him explodes from the gentleness that makes him want to crack in the palm of your hands. It sears him from the inside out, makes him grab onto you like you’ll disappear—this is another dream, isn’t it? 

It has to be. 

You can’t be kissing him again after four years. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re an illusion, something his mind made up to deal with the pain. He’s finally cracked for good, just like Bertholdt said he would, and he’s the devil, not you.

But then you pull away just for a moment to smile, eyes barely open as you look at him with a sad tenderness that wraps him in an invisible embrace, and he is faced with the heart-wrenching reality. 

The sky is falling, you are holding him tightly again, and they’ve lost their years. But you’re here. With him. 

He knows that this isn’t a dream as he feels the coolness of the silver band on your finger and the heaviness in how he knows he hasn’t repented a damn thing. 

Why him?

As you run your hand through his hair, you press their foreheads together.

“And I do want a family with you, by the water if you’d like,” you murmur fleetingly against his mouth and his eyes widen, cheeks burning, entire face crumbling as he turns his face in to your shoulder, crushing you in another brace. Sobbing into your neck, his fingers dig into your shoulders, wrap tight around your waist, squeeze you so close he isn’t sure where you end and he begins and your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Reiner, say it.”

“Please,” he whispers thickly into your skin, and you cradle the back of his head with a hand. He’s nothing more than shambles. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” you promise. His breath is hot against his own face as you pull his head back and cradle his face again, thumbs brushing away the tears from his red face. “Just a bit more. A bit more and then it’ll be all over, you know?”

And he understands, then, what you want from him. Struggling for breath, for his lungs to stop seizing in his aching chest, he cups your face that turns into his palm on instinct, your face wet with your own tears as, for a moment, they try to pretend this isn’t where they really are.

Like they’re still in that afternoon in Trost, a thousand years ago, with the kids flipping coins into the water fountain and a cream bun between them. Like they’re under the tree, apple juice on your wrist and his lips on yours.

Like it’s those trips to the city, the walks on the Walls. Honey is dripping down your chin and he’s pretending he doesn’t want to kiss you, or there’s grease smeared on his forehead, and you’re reaching up to wipe it off his skin.

Like a thousand moments all at once, and he nods to himself as you brush your hand over his temple. The world outside is startlingly quiet, as if the universe itself stopped everything itself to watch this moment, and Reiner takes a breath that bruises his sternum before he’s holding your left hand where that ring still sits.

And slowly, he pulls it off, whispering as firmly as he can. He’s sure he fails—he’s shaking all over from your presence alone.

“When this is over, I’ll put that ring back on your finger. I promise.”

The smile that splits your face is dazzling. It’s the smile he’s missed since the day he left it.

“We have a lot of things to work out, Reiner Braun.”

And your fingers barely brush his jaw before you’re leaning to press a sweet kiss against his mouth. It’s sugary on his tongue, like honey and apple slices.

.

Your back is warmer when you’re pressed up against Reiner’s. The ship is quiet, and their pinkies are just barely hooked on oen another’s as you stare blankly at the empty space between Connie’s boots. You don’t speak, and Reiner’s gaze is only on you. He can’t look at anything else now that you’re back by his side again.

There’s a cut on your cheek from the fight just half an hour ago, and there’s dried blood along your hands where your knuckles had split open, but everyone seems too exhausted to clean themselves up. 

Reiner himself has a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he sighs, slouching in his own sack of flesh.

Your head tilts towards him, enough that your temple presses against his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into your touch. Not a word passes by, but their hold on each other’s hands tightens. And Reiner thinks. 

For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Something that hasn’t burned since he left Marley as a child.

Reiner thinks he doesn’t want to die anymore. He doesn’t want to miss you for another moment.

.

Raising from the steam, you groan, your hands searing from the inside out as you touch your face where you swore every inch of your skin had been stretched, but nothing seems out of sorts as you glance around. Everywhere, all your friends who had turned just as you had are in various states of disoriented. The air is still hissing, crackled with surprised screams and shouts of names as people look for one another across the field. 

It smells like cooked meat and burnt hair, a none-to-pleasant mixture that turns your stomach.

Getting to your feet, you wipe at your face, trying to ignore the weird feeling underneath your nails and the ache seizing your muscles. Trying to ignore the remnants of Eren lingering like a ghost that won’t really leave you alone. You shiver, and a strange cold sweat takes over your body.

He had taken you to the sea, except it wasn’t the shore you were familiar with. There was a cabin nearby, with blonde children running, chasing after one another and a man with golden hair standing on the porch, firewood in his arms as he calls out silently. Or maybe you had been standing too far to hear.

“Eren… where are we?”

“Wherever you think you are,” he had said. “I just brought you where you wanted to be.”

A voice, quiet as a memory, catches your attention. “Here let me help.” A soft wind blows throw the mist, cooling your scorching face as you feel a presence stand behind you.

“Oh, thank you.” You look over your shoulder to see a tall boy, and your heart stops. Mouth dropping open, you stare at his foggy image, but he only smiles fully, a smile so tender it reaches every corner of you as you stumble forward, fingers stretching for him. “Bertholdt!”

His smile grows only that much more, eyes squinting a bit and a flash of teeth before he’s looking at your hand that passes through his chest. All at once, all the hope built up in your chest crumbles, and your hand snaps back, trembling just before him. He lays a hand over your own and your eyes begin to burn, tears slipping down your cheeks.

And then, softly, you barely whisper, “I miss you.”

Bertholdt’s smile merely grows, as if to say everything he couldn’t say before. As if to show he’s at peace now—that your last memory together isn’t every part of him, and your lips press together, trying to stop yourself from shaking.

 Shadows form in the fog, and together, the two look as a freckled boy and another girl steps out of the mist a distance away, beaming like the sun. Connie and Jean stagger to their feet just behind you, and your heart lurches into your throat when you recognize them.

“Marco! Sasha!”

Someone calls your name and you turn around just as arms scoop you up and you let out a surprised noise before settling into Reiner’s arms. Looking over your shoulder to look at Bertholdt, your heart only sinks.

He smiles and Reiner lets out a sharp breath beside you, settling you down. “Bertholdt…” More shapes emerge. A shorter boy accompanied by another taller one, both alike in their features. You recognize one as the Jaw Titan holder before Falco, but the other—

“Marcel!” Reiner chokes out the name, hand stretching out to the fog, but the boy merely tilts his head and waves.

Closing your eyes, hot tears streak over your cooling flesh as you fling your arms around Reiner again and press your face into his neck. He cradles the back of your head, and he feels… somehow weaker, but still, there is that impassable strength in his core that wraps around you as he watches over your shoulder, still clinging on despite your clothes hot enough to burn.

I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. It’s the only thought in your head. Your last clear memory had truly been the others taking flight, and the pain that had ripped apart your body before sewing it back together again in unjust proportions. Your limbs had been too big, your blood racing too warmly through your head as your legs pumped but your brain screamed to stop. 

Your fingers had sank into Reiner’s legs to pull him down and you had watched—watched Jean take a bite out of him—

You shiver and Reiner’s arms tighten around you instinctively, constricting enough to let you know that his attention isn’t on you quite yet.

Boots shifting on the ground tentatively, your knees feel gummy as you draw back long enough to look at him. He still looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to watch the mist retreat. Bertholdt and the other two boys fall into a pool of fog, and your lips part in a farewell, but it’s already too late.

He’s gone.

A wind sweeps through the battlefield, tickling your sweating neck and cooling your boiling blood.

“Hey,” a soft voice croaks.

Their eyes meet in tandem. He regards you softly, like you are the reason the sun rises and the stars hang at the sky. Overwhelmed, you can only cup the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Your other hand along his jaw, it takes all you can not to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace that’ll send them both to the ground.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper hushedly against his mouth, throat swelling as he lets out a soft noise of surprise as you pull him into another tight hug. You don’t care that you’re crushing him, just that his heart is pounding against your own chest. “I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes widening, he wraps his hands around your wrists and pulling you back just enough to kiss your fingers that crumple against his mouth. Clasping one of his hands in both of your own, you close your eyes and he uses his free fingers to brush the tears off your cheek before reaching into some dented tin you don’t recognize.

Eyebrows furrowing, you feel the heat leave your entire body, sapping your energy too, and your eyes snap to Reiner who steps back, cracking it open and presenting it to you. 

“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. I don’t think I’m the Armoured Titan anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I get the rest of my life back, but either way, I want to spend the rest of it repenting to you in any way I can, if you’ll allow me to.” A weak smile. “Truth.”

Your throat closes up, and you stare down at the ring so protected, gleaming despite the destruction around them. It looks almost out of place amongst the grime smearing your skin, the sweat drenching their skin, the smell of blood and metal clinging to their clothes, but Reiner only watches you with a tenderness you can barely meet. It’s so overtly overflowing with devotion that your heart is resting on your tongue, seizing control of everything. 

You barely nod, chewing on your lip, trying not to cry even harder as his eyebrows rise in relief and he lets out a long sigh.

He lifts the ring out of the tin, snapping it closed before sliding the band back home onto your finger and all at once, everything floods you. The exhaustion, the pain, the hunger, thirst, grief wrapping around your bones and chaining you to the ground.

It’s over.

The minute he put the ring on your finger, it would mean it was over. No more blood, no more fighting.

Just like he promised.

You barely croak out his name before you fall to your knees. You trust him to catch you, and he does.

[THREE YEARS LATER]

Just after the Rumbling had stopped, you had gone back to Paradis alone and came back with three children to a man who was still uncertain in a world that was changing. 

Since then, you’ve learned so much about the world, about yourself, about Reiner. 

How he’s seized by night terrors even now, just like you, and how one thing that soothes it is going out for a walk while the sun still simmers below the horizon, the sky a dark navy blue spliced with orange rays. The intricate details like him making a point to tie his own tie because his father never taught him how or the way he has to chug his coffee so he has enough energy to get through the day.

And some days are horrible, haunting, but now, it is far outweighed by the good. He teaches Xav how to dress smart, takes the girls out shopping. Sometimes, he’s spotted around Liberio with a flame-haired boy riding his shoulders, you trailing behind hiding a smile behind some ice-cream.

Different nations, foods, cultures surround you now—citizens of countries coming to settle down roots, spread cuisine to Marley. The idea before, of humans so different than you but still similar at the root of it all, existing, still blows your mind. The technologies that you had never seen before, languages you’d never heard, sights you’d never seen, had all swarmed you as you stepped into a new world with him.

But there is always one thing you’ll come back to.

Leaning against the railing in the port city Reiner told you was the harbour he had left twelve years ago, and returned to seven years ago, you watch the clouds travel in slow drags across the pale blue canvas hung high above your head. The water spans for as far as you can see, glimmering under the sun and gorgeous enough to take your breath away. You pull at your coat across your chest absently, ignoring the tender growl of your stomach. 

Breathing in the salty wind, you feel your chest expand at the litle fishing boats a little ways out.

Reiner was right. You don’t get sick of the sea. You never will—not of this much water. You still remember the first time you had swam in it, the salt-water making your hair crisp, the cold sweat forming on your your sun-warmed skin.

You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you spot blonde hair and warm eyes and smile. Your heart flutters a bit. You shift on your feet.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Reiner leans down beside you, and you clasp your hands, letting the sea wind curl against your neck. Reaching to slip his hand in between yours, he sighs and you lean against his shoulder, glancing at their pile of interlaced fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” you whisper, although even still, you can feel a numbing at your fingertips. You remember what it was like to be a Titan, even now. The sensations haunt you—flashes of your own mutated body, the grotesque meat of your hands sinking into the ankles of the man beside you, the bloodcurdling roar spilling out of your throat.

Glancing at their fingers, you watch the flashes of silver of the rings play in the sunlight, your band now having a matching counterpart on his own hand. You grasp his hands tightly, bringing them up to your lips and his own grip tightens when you dust a kiss gently along his scarred knuckles.

“No,” you finally say at length. “I’m not okay. Going back to Paradis makes me nervous as hell, but we’ll manage.” He nods slowly, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. His own encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him and your eyes close at the familiar warmth—a warmth you’ve woken up next to most days for the past three years. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmurs, and your fingers play with the soft edges teasing at your pads as his nose presses against your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the soft heat emanating from his skin, and you shake your head, melting against him. With one arm still around you, he slants his body away from just enough to pull a bag out of his pocket and it crinkles as he hands it to you. Taking it, you frown and look inside.

A cream bun. You can’t help the crumbling in your expression and Reiner holds your face in his hands carefully, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Let’s stay positive,” he whispers. “We don’t know the situation until we get there and Historia briefs us.”

“I know,” you whisper and his entire expression eases at your words. His eyes gaze at you as if you’re the sole centre of his universe, and he cups your jaw more insistently, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, one you ease into, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth. Laughing, you feel his little nose scrunch and your heart bounds up into your throat as he pulls back only to kiss you again, softer this time.

“Get a room!” A sharp female voice ruins their moment and you pull back just enough to see a red-headed boy running towards them and Reiner crouches down just in time to scoop Xavier up.

“When are you getting married?” he demands. “I was promised cake when you guys got married.”

“I dunno. When you move out of the house I guess,” you tease and Xavier pouts, rubbing at the side of his nose with the heel of his palm.

“Besides, you got cake for your seventh birthday, buddy,” Reiner groans as the boy twists in his arms. “You’re getting heavy. What are you feeding him?” he adds, smiling roguishly at you and you roll your eyes as Alina and Anya approach, sun hats protecting them from the glaring sun. Alina, grocery bags in hand, waves. Anya, who’d been the one to shout, tucks her coin purse back into her bag before flashing you a great big smile.

Only fifteen and seventeen. You can barely recall what it’s like being that young anymore, but you’re grateful they didn’t spend it the way you did. They get to know beauty, and no limits at all. The former comes naturally, the latter is partially because Reiner spoils them rotten.

Alina picks a flower with velvety purple petals from a bouquet she cradles in her arm, extending it to you.

“For good luck,” she says. “And protection.” Your heart melts at her words and you pause for a moment, looking from the gorgeous bloom to Reiner, occupied with the boy in his arms making silly faces at him. Then, without another moment, you sneak the flower behind his ear and he reaches up immediately to hold it against his head, turning to you in surprise. 

“To protect the both of us,” you explain.

“Thank you. I’ll be extra careful now.” He looks at the girls, setting his free hand on Alina’s head heavily and she flushes, smiling grandly. “You three behave while we’re gone, alright?”

You nod. “Listen to Levi.” 

“And listen to your sister,” Reiner adds to Alina and Xavier. The former rolls her eyes, the latter sticks out his tongue. “I’ll miss you.”

This is their home—their family that tumbles together into a huge hug, and you can’t help but stand back, watching how they all seem to merge into one unit, unaware of where one part of their reach ends and another begins.

As Reiner pulls you into the hug, your heart soars through your body, effortlessly pounding in your throat and in your fingers and everywhere at once. Liquid heat pools everywhere as Xavier screws up his face when you kiss his cheek, the same way Reiner does after he’s eaten something sour.

And maybe it’s a bit different, or a bit broken, the shards of their bloody history still poking at their heels whenever they think you’ve forgotten them, and it’s most definitely not perfect, but you would rather have it like this then anything else.

“Hey, guys!” Breaking apart, the family look over to see Armin, Annie, and Pieck walking over. Gabi and Falco meander a little bit behind, pushing Levi in his wheelchair, and Jean and Connie are running not far behind them, shouting at one another. You stifle a laugh and Xavier shimmies out of Reiner’s hold to run towards them. The girls follow after him, trying to hold back their runs but the closer they get, you can tell the more frantic they are to say goodbye.

So this is what they’ve made a peace. Something, you hope, is good.

Annie bypasses them quickly, making her way over to you and you survey her face as Reiner squeezes your shoulder, walking over to their friends. Her blue eyes are fixed on your face, and you feel your lips curving into a smile as she shoves her hands in her pockets. Her hair is swaying in the wind, gleaming flaxen, and you remind yourself, not for the first time, that Armin and Annie’s kids, if they ever decide they want them, will be gorgeous.

Hope for the future, and all that.

She stops in front of you, tucking a strand behind her ear.

“So,” she says at length, “we’re going back to Paradis. I’m surprised you decided to come with us. You don’t owe any of us anything.”

“I know. But… you’re my best friend. You do the talking, I fly the getaway plane, right?”

“Yeah. There used to be a time when it probably would’ve been the opposite.”

You nod, and they stand in silence for a moment, watching each other. Two women who should not have been friends, but were against all odds. You don’t think you would be here today if it weren’t for Annie.

Your heart lurches and you take a step forward just as she does, her mouth open to say something. You throw your arms around her and she lets out a noise in surprise as you close your eyes. Arms coming underneath yours, her hands dig into your shoulders and you smile against soft hair as she sighs, easing into your hug.

“Finally working together on an actual assignment,” you mumble and her head tilts as her small frame shifts, a hand patting you on the back as a sign for you to back up. “Just like we always said we would.” 

Bluntly: “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“You, too.” Pulling back, the two look at one another for another soft moment before you remember the bag in your hand and you shift the bun up in the bag, extending it towards her. “Want some?” Her eyebrows rise in faint delight, before she’s reaching over, pinching and tearing a piece off. 

You grin and do the same and you gesture for her to come stand by the rails with you, stuffing the bag into your coat pocket. Leaning against the warm metal again, you hear a seagull call. The plane you’ll be flying to Paradis floats on the water, the technicians giving it the final check before you take off.

If anything goes wrong while you help prepare and oversee accommodations for the rest of the ambassador group, you’ll remember to fire the black signal flare, but you trust Historia. You trust your friends.

You glance over at them, all laughing, and you notice that the flower has gone from Reiner to Pieck, who’s taking it out of her dark hair to tuck it into Jean’s, and his cheeks redden as he brushes it more securely behind his ear.

Annie catches your attention again, pointing out idly that they’ll have to separate soon when they finish with the plane, and you tell her to just wait a couple minutes more as Reiner catches your gaze. Setting Xav, who has somehow wormed his way back into his arms, down, he walks back over to you, and his hand trails purposefully over your back before resting at the nape of your neck, a reassuring weight on your body.

“You guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Annie replies. “You have a clingy boyfriend,” she tells you. 

“I think it’s charming.”

She rolls her eyes. Reiner smiles, and you pat the railing beside you—silent invitation. He leans in on your other side, clasping his hands and watching the fishermen pull themselves to shore, singing a tune to each other—one familiar to all three of them and one that you wish you could get out of your head. 

“Soon may the Wellerman come…”

A faint breeze tickling at your fingertips as a sharp call for embarkment splits the harbour, you simply sigh and look over at Reiner. “I just want these last few moments to last.” His eyes meet yours, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Annie lets out a soft noise of disgust and you bump your hip against her as Reiner pulls back.

Closing your eyes and lifting your head to the wind, you can almost imagine the one person missing standing on the other side of Annie, dark hair like spun, stained bronze and eyes like warm chocolate. He’d smile and tell them not to worry in that sincere way of his that makes you believe every word he says—as long as they were careful, they wouldn’t walk into any traps.

Your chest aches, and your lips tug into a heart-wrenching smile as you begin to sing along. Reiner slips a hand in between yours, pressing his temple against your head and you loop your other arm through Annie’s.

She rests her head on your shoulder, listening to your voice, eyes on the sailors bringing in their haul below them. Reiner hums the shanty softly, distractedly, eyes cast across the sea.

You tilt your head up to the sky, at the stars you cannot see but will join one day, and smile.

[choolbeans]

𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙢𝙖𝙤. 𝙎𝙤 𝙄 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙟𝙪��𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙢𝙚’𝙨. 𝙨𝙤 ���� 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖’𝙨 𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙡 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 (𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 3) 𝙟𝙤𝙟𝙤 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“So why are we here jiji?” Asked the young male. “Our new member is gonna meet us here, and before you go asking questions, she’s not a stand user.” Said Joseph.

“Hm? Not a stand user? Then way do we need…you said she right. Why do we need this girl if she’s not a stand user?” Said Jotaro. “You know that old Japanese myth, Ryomen Sukuna?” Asked the old man.

“Oh I do, you mean the sorcerer. He was the most talented and the strongest jujutsu sorcerer ever, but that’s just myth some people say that if you have the any cursed energy you can see curses, but there are only a few people that can actually see them.” Kakyoin explained. “But why are we talking out Sukuna?”

“We’re talking about him because his real and his vessel is our new group member and if you don’t believe me then just think back to the reason why we started this trip. By now I could believe anything.” Said Joseph.

“WHEN WILL SHE BE HEEEERE?!!” Screamed Polnareff. “ITS SO HOT OUT HEEERE I WANNA GO IN SIDE!!”

“I’m right here!” Said a female voice. All the men looked her way. She had h/c, stern e/c eyes she also had to markings on her face. The girl wore a black jacket (like maki’s) and black shorts with black thigh high stockings and combat boots. With what looked like a long red pack on her back.

“So you guys are the losers I’m here to help huh? I was expecting a little more, but you guys are ok I guess.” Said the female walking over to them.

She looked at Jotaro and said. “You look like a hunk a junk big boy.” Jotaro growled. “I don’t like your attitude, bitch.” He said to the h/c female.

“Hm, what are you gonna do punch me? I’d like to see you try.” She said with a smirk on her face. Jotaro was just about to say some nasty come back but Kakyoin separated them from each other.

“Come on don’t fight we just met, how bout we introduce our selves. My name is Noriaki Kakyoin, I’m sorry for Jotaro over there were all glad that your here.” Said Kakyoin in a nice voice smiling.

Y/N POV

“My name is Noriaki Kakyoin, I’m sorry for Jotaro over there were all glad that your here.” Said the red haired boy.

‘Hm! He doesn’t seem bad. He’s pretty cute, like really cut…buuuut I bet he had no friends as a kid. Smart in the brain, but in social situations.’

“Jotaro Kujo.” Said the sexy but bitchy dude.

‘Ugh, I’ve never liked high and mighty guys. Only his name? He probably sets sea gulls on fire and watches them burn for fun.’

“Call me Polnareff! It’s a pleasure to meet you!!” Said the man with sliver.

‘He has a nice jaw line. His voice is sexy, and to top it off he has a great rack. I think we’ll get along well.’

“Hello miss, I’m Joseph Joestar! I’m pretty sure you new that already.” Said the old man.

‘No comment, no comment at all.’

“Nice to meet you, my name is Muhammad Avdol. I hope we can get along well.” The man in the red robe said.

‘He seems like he’s a good guy. Like a father figure. I like him!’

“Alright bitch, if you don’t have a stand what’s so special about you huh?” Asked Jotaro getting closer to me about to say he’s next sentence but I stopped him by moving my hand in front of his face and said. “Talk to the hand.”

“Oh your gonna be like that? I’ll beat you to a pulp-”

“𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖?” Said a deep voice. Jotaro stoped in his tracks to see and eye and mouth with a weird symbol on its tongue appear on her hand.

“W-what the hell?!” Said Jotaro. “Aren’t you the people were spots to help.…KILL A GUY THAT YOUR FAMILY FAILED TO KILL AGES AGO AND THATS ALSO THE REASON THAT YOUR MOMMY’S ON DEATH’S BED! HAHAHAHA!!” Sukuna laughed.

Jotaro growled and was about to punch me in the face. “How about I introduce myself before we start fighting. My name is Y/n L/n pleaser to meet you boys.” I said putting my hand on my hip.

“And this is Sukuna.” I said now pointing to my face, an eye appeared were one of the markings were on my face and a mouth appearing under the eye.

“Now I guess we can continue this fight now.” I said to the tale male. “I’ll send you too the hospital.” He said.

“HEY! HEY! Lets not fight we just met the young lady! Show her some respect!” Said Joseph. “Hmf!” I smirked at Jotaro, he was just glaring at me.

TIME SKIP

JOTARO POV

‘The stand user were fighting uses illusion as it’s attacks and it’s fast…really fast even for Star platinum…what the hell am I gonna do. I hate being stuck with the chick, all she’s done is swing around that freakin’ Speer..’

We’re currently hiding behind a large vent on top of a billing, one of the illusions that the stand user made on the other side of it. The illusion has to be at least 5-6 meters tall and the with of about 4-5 meters. It’s pretty ugly, it has many mouths and eyes

“Damn it! What the hell are we gonna do now?!” I whisper yelled at her. “I don’t have the energy to hit it right now so…Sukuna, your up.” She said walking around the vent.

The illusion saw her immediately and began charging at her. “WHA-WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! ARE YOU CRAZY!!” I yelled at the female.

Suddenly the illusion was completely destroyed by one blow coming from her.

‘What…how did…not even Star platinum could hit it, so how the hell could she? Is that even y/n, she doesn’t have a stand, could this be…the power of sukuna?’

“GAHAHAHA! It’s been a while since the brat’s let me out fully!” I way deeper voice said. Then she aggressively ripped her jacket and shirt exposing her muscled body and black bra, also showing the many different markings on her body.

I blushed and looked away from her. ‘That’s definitely not y/n. That’s…sukuna.’ I thought to myself. “HAHA! THAT WAS EASY GIVE ME MORE OPPONENTS!” Yelled Sukuna.

All of a sudden more illusions appeared and ran after Sukuna and were all killed in seconds. “I SEE YOU KUJO! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!” Sukuna yelled at me.

“Yare Yare daze.…”