#features isnt a word anymore

[hopelessdazai]

✿ 》I'll have you muzzled and caged, ill put you right in your place, you want it.

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; this was in my drafts for a period . I actually finished it tho so be proud of me ( reblogs appreciated !!! )

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; beast dazai x gn!reader x beast chuuya ( reader is afab but only a cunt is mentioned ) WC : 1.5k

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; smut, petplay, buttplug (but it isnt used), handcuffs, chuuya is soft and dazais a little of a dick, it kinda gets right into it so be warned, actual smut begins after the divider.

“..puppy ears?”

the velvet headband was clutched between your fingers. a gift box on the table in front of you from the boss of the Port mafia. Dazai, your personal trainer. He didn't reply at first, simply smiling down at you - before stepping beside you and taking a layer of crinkled tissue paper off.

“There's a tail in there too.”

and that there was. your eyes caught specifically on the glint of a metal plug on one end. He would pull a stunt like this, you thought. to the side was a bone gag, a crystal white with a pink ribbon to tie around your head. shit, and there's matching handcuffs? How much was in here? You look up at him for a moment, your mind reeling.

he'd said you worked like a dog before this, but wasn't this a little self indulgent?

“..is this a joke?” You look up at him. wishing for some resemblance he was holding back a laugh. hoping this was some gag to mock you, that you don't have to actually wear these things. but there was nothing but a smile.

“a joke? I don't think so.” he hummed, taking the headband out of your hands and gently placing it into your hair. “I picked colours that would suit you, you know? it'd be a shame if you were to waste my money and not make use of them.”

you scoff, picking out the tail and holding it idly in your hands. It was soft. nothing you would've been into, nor what you'd wear for your boss when you're in the damn mafia. and for a moment you found yourself wondering if quitting without a notice was allowed here.

“I can help you put everything on.”

a laugh escapes your throat, one which you couldn't stop the bubble from popping. He had to be kidding, there was just no way someone like him had the nerve.

But he wasn't laughing, he wasn't even smiling anymore.

shit, he was serious.

“I discussed it with chuuya beforehand,” He begins, walking around the desk to sit himself down, one leg crossing over the other. “He wishes to see you in the getup too, if you don't mind.”

“This wasn't in my contract.” You frown, placing the tail on the table - the plug end making a small clatter. “When i signed up to work here, there wasn't anywhere that said I needed to prance around in sex wear.”

“Did you not read the fine print?”

there was a fine print?

you hesitate, shaking your head. “I don't see how that matters. this has to be some human rights thing ..” your voice trails as the door to the office opens, familiar ginger hair in your peripheral vision as he strolls over to stand beside you, giving you a smile. you smile back.

“Chuuya, it seems we're having some obedience problems..” Dazai begins, his hands coming to rest in his lap. “the outfit we so carefully chose for them, they refuse to wear. isn't that cruel?..”

You glance at Chuuya, and he looks back for a moment. no words are shared. but there's a mutual understanding of why you might be hesitant - a human response.

Dazai continues, “You've always spoken about wanting a dog, haven't you, chuuya? and you've certainly spoken more than once about wishing how (name) was with us during our sessions.”

Chuuya chokes on his spit, there's a strange silence afterwards.

“..I suppose.” He mumbles, crossing his arms and looking away from the both of you. Dazai stands up, walking around the desk to where you are. His hand rummages in the box for a moment, taking out a collar and clipping it around your neck.

“It suits them. don't you think, chuuya?”

he turns to look at you, mumbling something under his breath as he steps forward to twist the collar to suit your neck better. you mentally thank the fact you're stuck between two people who even each other out, at the least.

Chuuya gently pulls you close by the waist, holding your hands behind your back as he nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck. you feel dazai clip the handcuffs around your wrist, all happens without a word spoken.

The gingers lips encase a small area of your neck, gently sucking as you let out a light whine. you feel dazai slip closer behind you, his hands on your hips and an unmistakable bulge pressed against the curve of your ass.

shit, what have you gotten yourself into?

you would've done more if your hands weren't tied, and if you could do anything but let out a guttural moan as chuuya's tongue collected the slick off your cunt, you're sure you would've asked them to be gentle.

you blinked a hazy eye open, met with dazai's tip smearing precum against your cheek. a smirk on those lying lips of his. bastard. the clasp from the bone gag in your mouth clicked open, dropping to the floor with a thud. It almost made you flinch.

“Now, do you promise to behave?” The brunette hummed, his voice an almost patronising sing-song tone. You felt Chuuya grip your hips from behind, pulling you back onto his face. it prevented you from having any response but a whine. Dazai simply scoffed, slapping your cheek before forcing your lips apart with his thumb ; resting it on your molars. your drool escaping the side of your mouth.

“I expect a response when I speak to you.”

you did try, but with chuuyas tongue deep inside you and with dazai's thumb in your mouth, you could barely even think straight, let alone make any stupid promises.

“you're giving me the silent treatment, hm?.. bad dog ..”

you let out a whine, shortly cut off as the back of your throat was blocked by Dazai's cock. your nose pressed against the bush of pubes he hadn't even bothered to shave. He stayed deep as you gagged and your throat closed around him, your eyes tearing up.

“there we are..” He muttered, gripping the back of your head behind your faux puppy ears, forcing you to take his cock into your mouth as he practically used you as a human fleshlight. you could barely even let out any sound, your airflow practically fully cut off as your throat was rammed full.

chuuya’s thumb swiped your clit, rolling gentle circles that contrasted the brutal pace dazai used your throat in. it was just too much, letting out sounds you didn't even know you were capable of making. drool glossing your lips as tears run down your cheeks. your mascara had to be ruined.

“hah- look at you. pretty little thing .. the sounds you're making now ..” Dazai whispered, a low rumble of a chuckle leaving his throat. “It’s the smartest I've ever heard you be, you know?.. keep making noise for me, just like that..”

the rustle of fabric behind you as chuuya laid himself down under you, gently rubbing circles on your ass as your thighs shake from keeping yourself up.

“sit down f'me. be a good pup.” you hear him mumble. and you can feel his temper grow as you hesitate, dazai tugging on your hair hard enough for you to look up at him, eyes glazed over from tears.

“You were given an order, were you not? sit. down.” you gradually obey, feeling chuuyas mouth enveloping your wet cunt again.

it's too much, everything is too much. dazai’s pace on your throat increases, the gasps leaving his throat become louder. as do the shaky grunts against your clit as chuuya makes lewd slurping sounds, obviously to provoke the room further. you can barely even fucking breathe, the knot in your stomach is so tight. so close.

“swallow.” Dazai mumbles, letting out an involuntary whimper as he buries himself deep in your throat, the bitter taste of his cum of which you had no choice but to swallow down. and you swear you might drown in it, almost blacking out as you cum on chuuyas tongue.

everything is quiet for a while, save for the sound of heavy panting coming from both you and dazai. chuuya crawls out from under you, wiping his mouth from your fluids and leaning back slightly. you can see the wet patch on his slacks, he came untouched from taste alone?

“That's better..” dazai mumbles, pulling his cock out of your mouth and letting go of your hair, not sparing a shred of sympathy as your front half hits the ground. your body stings, the exhaustion hurts. you can't process anything other than chuuyas warmth as he gently tugs you into his lap, your head to his chest with his hand running through your hair.

he's always been gentle with you, anyway.

“well, I think that was a rather productive usage of our time, no? wouldn't you agree, chuuya?” dazai looked down at the pair of you, a smile on his lips. You couldn't speak, your throat hurt. But chuuya pressed a gentle kiss to your temple and nodded.

“I certainly enjoyed it.”

[eph3merall]

I JUST FOUND YOU BUT PLEASE PLEASE ANOTHER STALKER!MATT FIC (for ideas maybe while she’s on facetime with him hes.. yaknow and his camera is on which is more riskier, or another idea is she posted a photo on instagram or something thats a little more on the 18+ side and he… yaknow)

i got u 🙂↕️ piggybacked off an idea kinda ????? been meanin to visit stalker!matt i miss him :( this is sooooo late as well im so so so sorry !!! not proofread i cant STAND rereading things i write

18+ content, suggestive, stalker!matt . dont read if this isnt your cup of tea :)

—

matt has a habit of knowing where you are and who you're with at all times. well, most times. sometimes he messed up, a mistake on his part. sure, your sweet, little self is his best friend, and it is wrong for him to do the things he does and think the things he conjures up in his head. but it's so hard not to want to blow your back out or tug at your hair with his dick in your mouth when you just look so pretty on your new instagram photo dump.

matt knows where these photos are taken—you and your little group of friends having gone on a trip by yourselves and driving around cute places. the beach, a flower field, museums, art galleries, you name it. multiple photos of you and various girlfriends posing or sipping drinks, until matt sees some selfies of you guys at a bar.

'what the fuck?' are the words that spew from his mouth when theres suddenly a video playing of you guys downing shots and giggling. the music is loud and the crowd in the video is boisterous and looks most likely high and or drunk. the video is a fairly short one, but he doesn't miss the way a guy is snaking his hands around your waist as you turn and grin at him so prettily.

matt's thumb swipes immediately, not wanting to stare at that sight anymore. he doesn't realize the way his fingers grip his phone a little tighter, blinking at the last image in your new little photo dump.

the dress clinging to your figure was anything but modest, paired with the way you looked with your friend. the shot was a little blurry, the cameraman was probably drunk or something. your friend stood to your right, leaning towards the camera with her upper body. a shocked expression lay on her face, one hand covering her mouth while the other splayed on top of her thigh. her eyes diverted away from the camera.

you, on the other hand, have your ass almost directly facing the camera. wide googly eyes stare at the matt through his screen over your shoulder, your shoulders hunched and hair a pretty mess. the hem of the dress you wore rode up and gave him just a little peek of your ass, and god—his dick strained uncomfortably in his jeans. the way you looked so innocent yet so enticing, knowing nothing is by far innocent in the photo.

the caption of the dump was titled 'with my girls <33', and upon opening the comments there were immediately your friends' usernames hyping you up. specifically the last photo. matt scoffed under his breath at how you responded with your little emojis and what-not. the lingering thought of the guy who briefly showed up in the dump was still in his head, to which he stashed in the back of his brain. because matt will find out who that was.

but first, he can't miss the way his dick twitches ever so slightly in the confines of his jeans and belt.

soon enough, he has his belt strewn haphazardly on the floor of his room and his pants pool at his ankles. tongue prodding his cheek, chest heaving with a heavy exhale as his hand thumbs at his tip. a hiss leaves his mouth and he's spreading the pre that's leaking from his slit down the length of his dick.

his free hand fumbles for his phone that sits on the edge of his desk, swiping to that god forsaken photo that gives him a peek of your ass. a grumbled whine rips from his throat and his hand wraps around his length—starting to pump slowly as his eyes scan over each and every single feature of your body and face in the picture.

matt's fingers grip his phone tighter and your name is falling from his lips in whiny breaths and huffs, the occasional curse getting muttered under his breath. the pace of his fist increases and soon enough he's getting himself off to not only the photo of you—but the scenarios he keeps caged up in his head.

your face stuffed in a pillow with your ass up, his palm splaying across the cheek as his dick rams into you. drool bubbling at the corners of your mouth as he holds your head down on his cock, nose pressing into his pelvis as he feels your gag reflex kick in. your body laid all perfectly on his bed, thighs spread and squirming. his tongue poking at your entrance and his hands gripping the flesh of your hips and thighs, holding down harshly to make sure you don't thrash around so much.

matt doesn't realize he's busting until his balls tighten and your name is chanted over and over again in a whiny breath, like a prayer. his fist slows and his chest heaves up and down with each heavy gasp of air, eyes gazing at the photo on his phone and lingering for a little while.

—

goodnight i havent had motivation to do anything recently how are u all i love you guys !!!! if u sent in a req i will get to that just itll be very very slow .....

©eph3merall 2024

[bananonbinary]

Tumblr's debt is a problem of their own creation. The app is buggy, the userbase is flooded with porn bots, nazis roam free, hate speech roams free, trans women have sfw content marked mature, art and posts are stolen for promotion, features are forced down our throats, ads are malicious and often gross or triggering and giving them money will not stop this.

If we give tumblr money they're not going to get rid of Tumblr live or restore the nsfw or remove ads or whatever you think they're going to do, they're going to KEEP DOING THE SAME THING except with more money to blow. Tumblr is a CORPORATION, they can get a government bailout like any other corporate entity can, and while people are throwing money at a dumbass corporation there are people begging to get bills paid and for food and other necessities.

Please open your eyes to the reality of the situation, its not just some guy anymore, David Karp is long gone its a soulless conglomerate now and they do not need our pity

a lot of yall seem to think that i want to like, bake sale save the baseball team. that's not what this is about. i don't think we need to "fix tumblr's debt," i think we need to make the website profitable (and the debt shows it isnt, altho from what i can gather a better word is "deficit" rather than "debt," ie, they are losing that much more money than they take in annually), because as it stands tumblr has no reason whatsoever to want to keep the current user base around. it's trying to attract a different userbase, because yall are PROUD of the fact that tumblr is a failing website and you dont want to pay them. you're loitering inside a store and acting surprised when the store wants you gone. of COURSE they're constantly introducing new features and not listening to what the users want, they don't want you here.

it's not a protest, it's not an attempt to buy good will, it's a simple business transaction: i spend a lot of time here, and i would like to keep spending a lot of time here. so i will buy my shitty internet crab, and tell my fellow loiterers that they can as well if they want. if you dont want to do that, you literally don't have to, but you can't tell me not to.

you people are all like "ohh tumblr isnt your friend dont give it money" but like. yeah. its not my friend. i would like to pay it for a service it provides, instead of expecting it to continue to provide that service out of the goodness of its non-existant heart. i dont think im the one with the parasocial relationship here.

also:

dont tell me to help a poor people. i am a poor people. i am allowed to spend THREE DOLLARS on something i like for myself, and not give literally every single dollar i have to charity and mutual aid. you have NO IDEA how much or if i do for other people, and you won't, because you aren't owed every detail of my life like that. people are allowed to have things they want for no other reason than they want them sometimes.

[halfmoonaria]

home

pairing: joey (from abigail) x reader

summary: all you ever wanted was a home to call your own.

words: 4.4k

warnings: violence, mention of drug abuse & overdose, gore.

author’s note: this is more of a platonic/parentish relationship so yall dont have to worry about the age gap since it isnt meant in that way.

also i know joey isnt her real name, but it felt better to use that since thats what the character name is.

i have no idea how this is going to go, but i honestly don’t care bc im so tired of writing this.

The second you stepped a foot into the van you could feel the whole atmosphere tense up. Especially Joey.

Her whole body stiffened noticeably, her shoulders tensed and her breathing almost hitched, an uneasy silence descended over the cramped space.

Was it because she could easily tell who you were by looking at you for not even a second? Or was it because she was anxious about the situation that was about to come? Perhaps it was both.

You could practically discern her actions without needing to look at her. Her movements were similar; her eyes were probably darting nervously, trying to look anywhere but at you. Her hands fiddling with one another, like they always did while she was uneasy.

The guy in the front seat looked back, his hair covered by a beanie, his features sharp and his eyes piercing behind his glasses, which had thick and prominent black frames.

As his gaze shifted to you, confusion flashed across his face. "What the fuck?" he spit, "How old are you, exactly?" his voice tinged with irritation.

Joey turned her head to you, suddenly interested in the subject and conversation at hand.

"Seventeen." You answered assuredly, shifting in your seat; feeling her gaze burn onto your skin. "Thought we weren't supposed to get personal though."

You crossed your arms defensively and sank down in your seat as you watched him clench his jaw in annoyance, turning his head back to the road muttering something about 'stupid fucking kids'.

Joey's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and despite your plans on not looking back, you did. You met her gaze with a defiant stare, silently challenging her unspoken question with your own: "The fuck you looking at?"

She turned away, her fingers still twisting together. Why did your presence make her so nervous?

Joey was the toughest woman you knew; she could effortlessly fix her own car, assemble furniture without instructions, and carry heavy groceries without breaking a sweat.

Her confidence showed in everything she did. So why did she look so incredibly agitated when you came along?

Possibly because of the past.

The van rumbled along, the road ahead illuminated by the headlights, casting long, eerie shadows in the surrounding darkness.

The man with the glasses seemed to sense the tension, couldn't resist but add, "You guys know each other or something?" Voice still as sharp as before.

His question hung in the air, cutting through the thick silence and forcing both you and Joey to acknowledge the underlying animosity that simmered between you.

You broke the silence, your voice low and edged with bitterness, "Not anymore." The words hung heavy in the air, signaling a past fraught with conflict and now, an uncomfortable present.

Joey's jaw tensed slightly, her gaze hardening as she stared out the window, a silent agreement in your response despite the tension it added to the already precarious situation.

You tried to steady your breath, the tension in the air making it difficult to relax. The silence in the van grew heavier, punctuated only by the occasional bump in the road.

You stared out the window, the night sky dotted with stars, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside the van.

The van rolled to a stop at the gates of the sprawling estate. Towering oak trees framed the entrance, their branches reaching skyward in a silent salute to the wealth that defined the property.

The mansion itself was a masterpiece of architecture. Gleaming windows reflected the moonlight, casting shimmering patterns across the manicured lawns that surrounded the estate.

Your eyes glimmered at the sight, staring at the mansion in shock. Wondering if this was how some people actually lived.

However, before you could open the car door to exit, the man with glasses glanced back again, his expression just as dark as before.

"Just to make things clear, you're not doing a shit." He snapped, jabbing his finger in your direction. "I'm not having some stupid fucking kid ruin everything for us."

"What the fuck?" you blurted out, feeling a surge of frustration. "If they didn't think I was capable, they wouldn't have sent me the message to come"

Your eyebrows knit together in annoyance as you leaned back in your seat, processing the implication of being underestimated. The comment stung, igniting a resolve to prove them wrong.

But you knew better than to act out. Three full-grown adults capable of kidnapping a child? They could do anything to you if you crossed them the wrong way.

So unfortunately for you, fortunate for the rest of them; you didn't do anything.

You followed them through the house, silent as a shadow, observing their movements. You watched as they found a secure hiding spot and brutally put the girl to sleep.

The weight of the situation pressed heavily on your shoulders as you stood witness to their intense planning, knowing that every moment counted in this risky endeavor.

Especially when the alarm went off.

You weren't much for panic or fear, but getting caught trying to kidnap a little girl would certainly not bode well for what was technically your first criminal activity.

But it worked out in favor.

Back in the van, the amount of people doubled. Some blonde chick with blue stripes of hair, a man with ginger beard and a black man who wore a leather jacket.

The house you arrived to later on was no different from the first one, standing out only for its poor choice of location and haunting appearance.

A man dressed in a black suit claimed his name was 'Lambert' and insisted to be the leader, the rules leaving his mouth as if they were simple.

You knew very well that the whole process wouldn't be so easy. Especially now that you knew that Joey would be there.

Arguing about the names seemed to be the main subject the first couple minutes, until they were randomly assigned to you by Lambert.

Frank

Dean

Sammy

Peter

Joey

Rickles

Riley.

Riley? Was that the best he could come up with?

The name left a bitter taste in your mouth. It reminded you way too much of the girl in your seventh grade class who made fun of the woman you babysat for, claimed she was a junkie.

She ended up with a nosebleed and you with detention.

Then you remembered who the woman actually was. And all the memories came crashing down.

You yearned to shed those, to wipe the slate clean.

Which was why you thanked the Gods above for putting a bar in the house.

Everybody else seemed to be as impressed as you were, it was basically the room the whole group headed into.

The polished mahogany counter gleamed invitingly under warm light. And the pool table was not that long out of use, its felt still pristine and ready for the next game.

Amid the soothing clink of glasses and the murmurs of fellow conspirators, you felt a fleeting sense of release. It was as if this place had been crafted just for this purpose—to offer respite from the weight of memories.

You settled down into the seat next to 'Sammy', the girl with the with wannabe teenager style, who looked like she could've stepped straight out of a high school yearbook.

Reached for a glass to pour yourself a drink, but you all eyes in the room landed on you as Joey spoke up; sitting further away in an uncomfortable looking armchair.

"You're too young to drink." Joey said, her voice unbothered and determined as she leaned back in the armchair. Almost like she was your mother.

And for some reason, what she said and how she said it sparked a raging fire inside you.

"And you're too young to act like my mother," you countered sharply, your words laced with defiance and a hint of frustration you felt.

You filled up the glass and let it all slide down your throat, hoping that it fueled an irritation in Joey.

As tension hung thick in the air, Sammy sensed the atmosphere and looked between you and Joey, looking as dumbfounded as everyone else. Finally, she asked cautiously, "Um, were we allowed to share our ages or something? I thought we weren't supposed to share personal information."

Frank raised an eyebrow, nodding towards you and Joey. "Apparently they knew each other before," he remarked, gesturing between the two of you.

Peter furrowed his brow, clearly puzzled as if he wasn't in the car when it was mentioned.

At that Sammy chimed in again, her curiosity piqued. "Are you related or something?" she asked, glancing back and forth between you and Joey.

You rolled your eyes, not in the mood for discussing the subject; you were never in the mood for it. Now everybody in the house knew about it, and it was clear that they would be asking about it.

Joey didn't seem to mind it one bit. Instead she smiled weakly and answered like she could've done it in her sleep.

"Her mother's my best friend." She stood up from where she was sitting, directing her voice to Sammy who raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Was," you corrected sharply through gritted teeth, feeling the familiar sting of annoyance.

The room fell silent at that, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air: nobody seemed to know what to say next.

Instead, the conversation shifted, and you sat back, happy that no one seemed to care much about it. You listened attentively to everyone and observed their behaviors and personalities; trying to find out what kind of people they were.

You quickly realized that the man wearing glasses was aggressive with a short temper. The big, muscular man seemed oblivious and not very bright, but he was strong enough to lift a mountain if he put his mind to it. The black man with the motorcycle style was mysterious. He appeared to have a crush on Joey — as he often looked at her when she wasn't aware and spoke to her in a flirtatious manner.

The smoker, dressed in rainbow-colored clothes, was childish and seemed eager for Sammy's attention, though it was clear that Sammy had her eye on Peter.

You were great at observing things, uncovering manners and nuances that nobody else even noticed. Listing out their jobs, family lives, and relationships came as a bonus.

You had picked up the skill from Joey. She had made up the game just between the two of you to play whenever you went out for ice cream every weekend.

Observing people, figuring out stories about their lives based on their clothes and guessing their secrets based on their body language. You were good at it, great almost, but Joey was always better. And you wanted to be just like her.

Everybody in the room was now paying her to do just that—figure them out and make assumptions about their lives. Watching her, you realized you didn't want to play that game anymore. It felt too invasive, too much like prying into things better left alone.

She confidently walked around the room, collecting every dollar offered to her. With unwavering certainty, she revealed her insights: Frank had a background in detective enforcement, Peter had struggled with paternal abuse, Sammy hailed from wealth and enjoyed outdoing criminal exploits for a rush, and Dean was a nonprofessional sociopath.

To no surprise she seemed to be right on every single one of them.

However, when she arrived at you, you met her gaze with a steely expression of defiance. She almost looked uncertain, like she wanted to look away.

You were not in the mood for her to dig up your past like it was a game. "Do me, and I'll cut your throat."

Harsh. Way too harsh, but it worked since Joey walked away.

It was the fact that Joey wouldn't even have to guess your past that threw you off. She knew everything already. Almost everything.

Which was unsettling. You didn't want to share a past with her anymore. You didn't want for your past to be exposed meanwhile hers was well hidden.

Which was why you couldn't help but discreetly smirk at Frank's words, "And you are a junkie".

It was ironic, a moment of relief even. Making you realize that even her past was more transparent than you'd thought. She couldn't shield herself from having her own past exposed, despite her sharp insights in others.

_____

As if things couldn't get any weirder, the kidnapped girl — whose name seemed to be Abigail — turned out to be a vampire.

Both Rickles and Dean had been killed out of nowhere, and it was now clear that the little girl was the one who'd done it.

She had made attempts at biting every single one of you, successfully capturing a bite in Sammy's arm, leaving everyone panicked.

And now, you guys had successfully captured her in a human cage; although it was clear she didnt belong to that group of species.

Abigail, from her confinement, proudly stated that she had orchestrated the entire operation and planned everything herself. That Lambert worked for her and that the money everybody was there for, didn't exist.

And without missing a beat, she had begun to expose everyone's real names and tragic pasts, laying bare the secrets they clearly had tried so hard to keep hidden.

She revealed that Sammy's actual name was Jessica Hurney, that she had made a career out of siphoning money from her rich parents, next came hedge funds and private offshore accounts. All of the facts confirmed what Joey had guessed earlier; she only did it for the kicks, since she clearly already had enough money.

Peter's real name was Terrence Lacroix, clearly much more complicated and advanced than his brain and his way of thinking. Appearently he had history with the Montreal Broussard family; snapping next for them. Which surprised you a ton, the guy might've looked stately, but he acted like he wouldn't hurt a fly.

Then she arrived at you.

She turned her head to you with a big proud smirk plastered on her face. Her hands were clasped together as she spoke, swinging back and forth on her heels.

"Y/N L/N" She spoke proudly, everybody's eyes on you. "Deceased mother, unkown father and two suicide attempts before the age of seventeen."

You clenched your jaw, even though you weren't affected by the slightest. You already knew everything she was saying. You lived through it. And it wasn't like you were ever going to see these people again, what was the shame in letting them know?

Everybody had their gaze stuck on you, but Joey's was burning onto your skin.

"Orphan at fourteen. Going through foster care after foster care yet nobody seemed to want you  permanentely. Was it because you were nothing but a burden? Or was it because you were caught stealing alcohol from most of them?" Abigail smiled proudly, and you wanted nothing but to smile back; showing her that she didn't affect you the way she thought she did. But your lips didn't move.

She then moved through Frank and Joey, and it seemed like she had invited everyone to punish and torture them for doing something to their family legacy.

Sammy had embezzled funds from their empire, Peter had stolen from them. Frank had betrayed them and Joey had accidentally caused the death of someone very important to Abigail's father.

Everybody had done something to them, but you? Hadn't done anything, for once.

____

Thinking that pulling a book from a bookshelf would help you find the way out was stupid, but what was even more stupid was that Joey thought that the walls would be breakable containing only one layer. And the fact that she got frustrated when it didn't work was laughable.

Ever since Abigail had revealed your past and managed to escape out of the cage, Joey had looked at you with worried puppy eyes; as if you were going to break down any second. Which only annoyed you.

But nothing infuriated you more than Sammy sitting herself down next to Joey, clearly trying to engage in some kind of conversation. She probably thought Joey was this amazing person that got through a bunch of tragic stuff with drug addiction and a son in the picture. But she wasn't, not in your eyes.

Joey explained that she had gotten clean, that she was planning to go back for him and start a new life with the money she took the job for.

Everybody gave her sympatic looks in return. Even Frank looked like it was getting to him.

And you were tired of it.

"That's bullshit." You stood up from the chair you were previously sitting on.

All eyes were back on you, Joey's in particular. Her eyes widened, a mixture of shock and hurt playing across her face. The room fell silent, the air thick with tension.

"What?" Joey's voice trembled, though she tried to keep it steady.

"You heard me," you said, your tone unwavering. "You weren't planning to use the money on a new life, you were going to spend it all on drugs."

Sammy shifted uncomfortably beside Joey, clearly caught off guard by your outburst.

Joey shook her head in determination to get you to stop, knowing what you were going to expose. "No." She let out, her voice almost failing her.

You scoffed, crossing your arms and looking around the room. "Do you guys want to know the actual reason my mom is dead?"

Nobody answered. You turned your glare towards Peter who watched you with nothing but pity in his eyes.

Joey's eyes, almost glistening with unshed tears, met yours. There was a flicker of something there—pleading for you to stop, perhaps.

"She died of an overdose." You looked around the room, seeing the wary and weary faces staring back at you. Feeling the weight of the words settle in the room like a thick fog.

Joey's face crumpled, and she turned away, trying to hide her regretful face with tears threatening to spill. Sammy looked between you and Joey, unsure of what to say or do. The rest of the group was equally silent, processing your revelation.

You continued, your voice growing steadier with each word. "She had been sober for 2 months until Joey decided to come over and ruin everything."

Joey's head snapped up, eyes wide but defiant. "It wasn't supposed to happen like that! I just... I wanted to-"

You scoffed, bitterness dripping from your words as you interrupted her. "Well you clearly didnt want to earn up to your mistake since you left the town the next day.

Joey's jaw tightened, her voice steady but strained as she tried to defend herself. "I panicked, okay? I didn't know what to do. I was scared."

The room was deathly quiet, everyone holding their breath. You took a deep breath and delivered the final blow, your voice cold and unwavering."Scared? You should be. Because you can't run from what you did forever."

The room fell silent again, everyone avoiding eye contact. The tension hung in the air, heavy and unspoken.

Finally, Sammy broke the silence, changing the subject to how she could lock up all the doors; that were covered with bars and lock if she found a power source.

The conversation rapidly shifted, but the impact of your words lingered, leaving everyone with a lot to think about. Mostly Joey.

You knew things would never be the same, but at least the truth was out.

The dumbest thing to ever do trapped in a house with a vampire on the loose would be splitting up. Yet Joey instructed everybody to do just that to find the power source Sammy needed, and since everyone had no clue what to do, they listened.

Peter willingly went with Sammy, since it was very clear that they liked each other. Either way it was stupid, you figured Sammy would turn into a vampire any second now.

In reality, you wanted to go alone, but unfortunately you were paired with Joey and Frank. The decision to split up seemed reckless, especially in a situation where safety was paramount.

Despite your reservations, there was no room for argument. Joey's instructions were clear, and you found yourself reluctantly following alongside Joey and Frank as they ventured into the corridors of the house.

In the midst of the tension, before you followed Joey and Frank into the corridors, Joey had pulled you aside with a determined look in her eyes. She spoke in a hushed voice, barely concealing her urgency,

'When we get out of here, you're coming to live with me. I'll make sure of it.'

There was no room for discussion as she hurriedly turned away, leaving you with a glimmer of hope in your eyes.

Every shadow seemed to move, every creak in the floorboards felt like a threat. The urgency to find the power source and secure the house drove you forward, but the unease never left your mind. Joey and Frank moved ahead with cautious determination, while you kept glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting for Abigail to appear at any moment.

___

As you anticipated,  Sammy had turned into a vampire no more than a few minutes into searching, killing Peter. Then exploded from the daylight Joey reflected from a small silver platter.

Lambert's true nature was exposed; he was the same species as Abigail, working for her and her father.

And Frank, in a moment of desperation, was foolish enough to accept Lambert's offer to join the them.

While you expected his transformation to take as long as Sammy's, it happened much faster. Within moments, after Lambert almost choked Joey to death Frank's eyes changed color, and his metamorphosis was complete.

Joey made a desperate attempt to call her son, assuming none of you would make it out in human form. Her attempt ended with her leaving a voice message, as he didn't answer.

After her unsuccessful attempt to reach her son, you and she hurried to the center of the house, aware that Frank was close behind, his footsteps echoing ominously through the corridors.

As you reached the center, the dim light from a flickering bulb overhead cast eerie shadows around you, intensifying the sense of dread that hung in the air.

And Frank wasted no time in springing into action. With a sudden burst of inhuman force, he threw both Joey and you up to the second floor landing.

You landed with a painful thud against the bookshelf covered wall, as if you were a weightless doll, struggling to catch your breath as Joey scrambled to her feet.

With menacing speed, Frank flew up to the second-floor landing where you and Joey stood, taken aback by his unnatural speed and power.

His eyes was now fixated on Joey. And in a terrifying display, he seized her by the throat, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. Joey struggled against his vice-like grip, grasping for air as her hands clawed his arm.

With a cruel twist of fate, Frank suddenly released Joey, throwing her backwards. At the same moment, he hurled you with his strength, propelling you over the edge of the landing.

Joey's cry of horror echoed through the air as you plummeted toward the hard cement floor below. Time seemed to slow as the ground rushed up to meet you.

And in the corner of your eye, you could see Abigail sliding on the black and white floor, allowing herself to catch Joey just in time.

But there was no one to break your fall.

It was abrupt and brutal, ending with the back of your head crashing against the cement floor with an unforgiving, bone-jarring impact.

The pain was immediate and excruciating, radiating from your scull down your entire body. You could feel the severity of the blow reverberate through your brain, a sensation that left no doubt about the damage it had caused.

Your vision blurred momentarily, and you struggled to focus on the chaotic scene around you.

Every heartbeat sent a fresh wave of agony through your head, and you could feel a warm trickle of blood pooling beneath you.

Each breath became a struggle, and your attempts to move were met with unresponsive limbs. The sounds of the fight above you started to fade, and the fact that Joey was calling your name to get up and help her, was inaudible from your side.

Not from distance but from your own waning awareness.

The cold cement beneath you was unyielding.

Numbness was spreading through your body.

And your eyes shut.

____

Joey didn't realize you were gone until the chaos had finally subsided. She had been so consumed with the fight for survival that your absence hadn't registered. It was only after the battle ended, and the adrenaline began to fade, that she noticed you weren't by her side and hadn't been at all since the fall. The shock and guilt hit her hard when she found your lifeless body, realizing that she had been too late to save you.

Joey had held onto you with tears streaming down her face.

The weight of your loss settled heavily on her, making her painfully aware that this was all your life was ever going to be.

Your life had always been a struggle. As a kid, your concerns weren't about choosing an ice cream flavor at the kiosk or picking out a dress at the shops. Instead, you worried about making sure the tap wasn't running and raising the water bill, and you focused on maintaining grades good enough to secure a well-paying job to help your mother with groceries.

What you didn't know back then was that you wouldn't get the time to find a job anyway. And now, the water bill didn't matter anymore; you didn't have a home to pay for it.

-this sucks and trust me, i’m aware, i just spent way too much dreading and time on writing this; it’s only be a waste for it to rot in drafts.

[thesharktanksdriver]

Determination! (Platonic)

Warning for this chapter: fisher tigers part is much more serious. It’s talks of slavery and while it isnt too graphic it does included a lot of mature themes. If that makes you uncomfortable please skip over it

You find that your dreams are very disjointed

Granted, you normally don’t dream at all

It’s typically just empty blackness as you fall into unconsciousness and then back into the waking world

But when you do have a dream every once in a blue moon

It’s…odd

Even for Dream standards you think their somewhat odd

The voices of those long past that you’d met cheering you on

Flashes of multicoloured sparks

The endless expanse of space as you stare at a star

It’s an old one, a dying one

Your not sure how you know that information yet you do

And you watch it die with sparkling eyes

It implodes on itself

Creating a massive explosion of light and energy that dispersed throughout the galaxy

Bright white light shattering into every colour imaginable into the void of space

The energy going in every corner of the universe

A supernova

Your not sure how you know that word but it comes into your mind

Perhaps it hasn’t even been invented yet because you know for a fact that knowledge on stars was vastly limited

Yet that doesn’t stop you from knowing knowledge you never knew before

You reach out towards the remnants of the dead star in a trance

The cheers of the dead yelling “stay determined!”

You open your mouth to eat the star shards

And then you wake up

How curious

Sun Pirates

In your time adrift at the endless sea you had come across many people of many races

Humans, odd winged people, mermaids, devil fruit users, marines and pirates

So it doesn’t come as a surprise when you come across a group of fishmen sailing the sea

They all look over deck at you with a mixture of expressions

Some worry, others pity and some with conflict

But as they all watch a Fishman with rose red skin, a tattoo of a sun on his chest and black hair tied back with a bandanna

He ushers them aside to look Down at you from what you assume to be his ship

“Hi! Do any of you know what part of the sea I’m in?. I think it’s the north blue? But I’m not sure. You’d think with the amount of time I’ve been afloat I’d be able to tell but-“

“Kid are you alone?!”

“Do you see anyone else on this ship?”

You don’t have much of a choice before your brought upon their ship

To their surprise though your not scared?

In fact you seem rather amused at the predicament your in

One that would usually leave normal people scared shitless

But it’s easy for the entire crew to tell your not a normal kid

Especially as you seem to find interest in what type of marine animals each member is

Even more so when you ask about how the capabilities/features of said marine animal

It’s…odd how knowledgeable you are despite your young age

And when they ask about it you just say “I know from experiences on the sea”

Like the fuck is that supposed to mean when your talking about the dangerous venom of the stonefish

They are worried

Like real worried

Some are still off put by the fact your a human but with how your talking the mixture of shock and concern overpower it

God they never thought they’d be fretting over a human but when you talk in visceral odd detail about how sharks occasionally eat people when desperate or confusing them for other prey

It’s a bit freaky

Doesn’t help that it’s oddly specific which makes it seem much more personal

And how you explain all these facts with a completely wide smile not noticing how their all horrified

Their captain Fisher tiger is especially worried when he questions you about how you ended up alone at sea in the first place

He keeps pressing you on the matter but always gets the same response of “I set out to sea and haven’t looked back” and “I’m not sure if my island exists anymore. It’s not like anyone would remember me, I’ve been gone for such a long time”

That implies so much and at the same time is very vague

This poor man is a few migraines away from bashing his head against a wall

But other than that and the worry he finds you to be an interesting kid

While watching you interact with his crew he notices that you treat them all as regular people

You don’t make snide comments nor do you go off of stereotypes to categorize them

Instead you see them as their own individual people

People who were owed respect no matter their race or appearance

And even when a few aren’t exactly the most friendly towards you your respect

Giving them space as you see their uncomfortable

For a kid your emotionally aware in a way that even most adults can’t compare

You can tell if someone has deep rooted trauma and don’t push the subject

Going out of your way not to bring up bad memories associated with humans if your presence did so

There were seemingly no bad feelings about it either

Just pure understanding in your eyes from possible personal experience

Even when he harbours hate for you it’s brushed off as seemingly nothing personal

When your not conversing your quietly helping around

Somehow knowing how to raise the sails and properly clean the deck

Never telling anyone of your deeds and just doing them to help out

It’s clear by how organic it is for you that your used to doing it

Yet your own …”ship” is something more akin to a poorly put together raft

Everything about you is odd

And for a long while he isn’t sure if that’s good or bad

Fisher is a man haunted by the actions inflicted upon him

A shared trauma among all his people from humans

He does not discriminate when rescuing slaves but he still has his own afflictions towards humans

The actions of them still on his skin and baring his soul

Yet he allows you on his ship despite it

Because he knows your a child

Someone who had not harmed him nor his people

Someone who’s innocent to the horrors of the world

To the harm done by your race

He grapples with his own hated for you because of something you cannot pick

He feels guilty and horrible for it

Yet the look in your eyes says that you understand him somehow

And that makes him feel worse

A child should not understand hatred from others

Let alone understand why he feels hatred towards them

And then also accept it with such empathy

it hurts

he's reminded of the guards who used to sneer at him for being who he was

you feel no sadness due to his gaze

only kindness as you do your best to avoid him

in some sense you understand why he gazes at you that way

you can't blame him, not when you yourself had been victim of the abuse of your own kind

looked down upon as dirt

seen as lesser

what hurts worse though is that you can't solely blame one group like he and some of his men can do

your human and your hurt by other humans

maybe it's worse in some aspects

it's why you give an understanding look in your eyes despite his occasional glare

Jinbe is perhaps the one you spend the most time with on the ship other than Hatchan

There is apprehension at first but what follows after a short period of time is kindness

Your just a kid

One not guilty for the crimes of others

He can’t blame someone’s actions on you

Especially when your nothing but respectful to them all despite their hesitation due to your race

He reminds you of a gentle giant which is fitting with what marine animal he’s acquainted to

Most times spent with him are ones where he listens to your words

Finding interest and intrigue in your stories and facts of the sea

It seems far fetched a child experienced all this but the look in your eyes says it’s true

The small mementos that hang on your form like hand woven bracelets, necklaces of shells and shark teeth, a coat befit for a captain hanging on your shoulders and bandana tied around your forehead to keep your hair tangled with pearls back

Their all signs that somehow your tales are true

As amazing and horrifying as they seem their true

And it leaves him feeling anxious

Your a good kid

Maybe one of the best he’s met so far and seeing the wear and tear on you hits him hard

You put up a smile and bare through whatever someone throws your way

Never once speaking back unless your standing up for someone besides yourself

It’s admirable but he sees how it has worn you down

Once upon a time he can imagine you smiling out of actual joy

And now it’s a mechanism for you to write off your pain

Your selfless to a fault

And on the sea people take advantage of that

But perhaps you already experienced that

And it leaves Jinbe’s stomach swirling with unease

He frets over you like a mother hen when you throw all regard for safety away and when you get something simple like a paper cut cause he knows either way you won’t care to tend to your own wounds

He honestly at the point wonders if this is what being a mother feels like

But he can’t contemplate that long cause Arlong is being a dick once again

Tension with him was high before but now Jinbe has half the mind to knock him square in the jaw if he kicks you again

And now he has half the mind to shake some sense into you when you walk it off

God he needs some sort of therapist cause he does not know how to help you beyond being protective and patching you up

It’s obvious that your hurt beyond repair on the inside

The times he’s found you just simply staring off towards the sea with a dead look in your eyes is a testament to that

A call of longing in long gone innocent eyes that still retain kindness despite it all

In those moments he just sits by your side and holds you

You grasp him like a lifeline

Something anchoring you down to reality as your mind makes you remember

He tells stories of fishmen island to distract you

He noticed though that when he tells of the promise to fishmen island from joyboy something in your eyes light up

Sparkles of light within them that dance but then fizzle away after a moment along with a shiver gliding down his back for some reason

He writes it off though

Just going back to his tales

It’s under yet another moon lit night you end up staring out at sea again

Memories of the past swirling in your mind like a hurricane

You can’t help it

Not after being reminded of one life you particularly didn’t like

You didn’t mean to overhear Fisher and Jinbe but it just happened

The captain of the crew talking about his time as a slave

The horror inflicted upon him at the hands of humans

You just keep staring out at the water

Burying yourself deeper into your subconscious trying to escape

But you can’t

Too distracted by the memories that you don’t even notice the two coming out the captains quarters to find you

Vacantly staring out at sea

Your staring out at the water

A deep empty stare

Darkness swirling in your irises

Occasionally you twitch, a jolt of imaginary pain burning your back once more

You sometimes still feel the pain of the brand that luckily now doesn’t haunt your skin

You hadn’t felt it in a long while until you realized after hearing him talk the tattoo of the sun on him was his brand covered up

It served as some sort of trigger

The memories came flooding back

The pain

The torture

The screams

The death

The rot

The overwhelming plea for death in a hell that became a limbo realm

Your hands trace the symbol on the wood lightly

Every couple of months (or maybe years? Your not sure) these thoughts and memories came up

It’s a normal cycle for you

Yet now they hit harder after seeing his tattoo

Cause it makes you think of them

Of the 3 sisters, the names of you never got as your mind makes the effort to forget what you experienced

Up until now you always had the worry of forgetting

You had been alive for a long time

so much so that your memories are inconsistent and blur together

Yet your time as a slave is something clear in your head that you wish erase

To wipe clean from your mind and bury

Yet you can’t will yourself to forget them

Because of those 3 girls you’d befriended over scraps of dry bread

Of the shared pain that was all understood from the four of you

Crying silently together while huddled in the dark

Cleaning one another’s bruises

The eldest girl of the bunch holding you one night when noticing your shivering form, the other two following in the action of huddling around you

A budding friendship formed from barely any words but silent understanding and conversations though looks

You can’t abandon their memory even if it’s attached to other ones you wished to bleach from your mind

It’s there staring into the darkened water you mutter 2 words that had been erased from your mind out of fear

“Celestial dragons”

The words are spat out like a curse yet your tone is full of emptiness

It’s something only someone affected by them could say in such a tone

Perhaps that’s why Fisher now looks at you with realization

“You…you were one too?”

“Yeah, it…I think it was a couple years back, I’m not sure though. The passage of time is hard for me to notice anymore, it all blurs together. Hell I can barely remember my life before the sea, I know I had parents and then they died but…I can’t remember their faces. Anyways, I was captured and sold, ended up in some dungeon.” For a moment you pause going over your memories as you pinch your chin in thought, the way you speak about it is nonchalant yet holds a lot of untold weight “it’s a blur of pain, I remember it specifically on my back. I try to limit how clear it is cause I don’t specifically like remembering it. There were these 3 girls though, sisters who all ended up in the same cell as me. We found kinship in our situation, I gave them the scraps of food I got since they needed it more than me.”

“Do you know what happened to them?” At hearing this you turn to Jinbe, a solemn expression crossing your face as an answer

“Not sure. I…like to hope that their ok, that they found their way back home” your tone is anything but hopeful, cracking with gloom that’s evident in your eyes “but hoping is all I can do. I wished for death when I was there, hoping they’d just finish me off so I could move on. At some point though I began to hope, those 3 girls needed someone there for them and I hoped I could remain just for them”

“Why’d you escape then?”

“I didn’t have choice.”

“What do you mean? That doesn’t really make sense”

They watch as an odd look forms in your eyes

They sparkle with unknown mystery

Something old and sentimental

Something ancient despite the young face you have

“Can you keep a secret?”

They look at one another for a moment

A silent conversation between the two

Jinbe is the one who nods first, your gaze then shifting to Fisher who takes a moment to look at you

He never noticed it till now but your eyes have something about them that…seems inhuman

For a second he swears he even sees stars sparkle in them

Great big shining stars that light the night sky’s and allow sailors to navigate the treacherous seas they love and call home

Stars that when he looks at reminds him of his freedom

Of not staring at the ceiling of a cage

Stars he wished to grasp at back in the days he wore shackles

Stars that for some reason now seemed to shine brighter, as if mirroring your resolve

He nods, watching a moment of vulnerability shine through eyes that look blank for a child

Eyes that have seen horrors

Eyes that had lost their twinkle of innocence yet still retain childlike charm in viewing the world

Eyes that sparkle of something ancient and old, residing in the depths of your irises like a great deity in the void of the night sky

“Have you heard about a star that never dies?” And so you begin your tale

By the time your done your tale they both sit there in silence

A deafening and choking silence that grips at you like the old collar of rusting steel or ball and chain that used to be attached to your leg

A sign of having your freedom weighed down

Locked away

You had once tried to break that leg but the girls stopped you

The eldest of them crying for you to stop

So you did

You watch them both stay in silence

And then see the tears line their eyes

And then they crumble like a cracked heart

Jinbe falling first as he grips you

Strong and battle-worn hands now soft and gentle

Afraid that you’d fade away

Afraid what would happen if he let go

It’s what you expected from him

But then You look to Fisher and find him in a similar state much to your surprise, if not he might be even worse than how Jinbe is handling what you told

Pure grief in his eyes

Regret

Pain

Solidarity

Familiarity

And most of all empathy

It pours out from him like his tears

Like a waterfall with never ending raging water crashing down onto the rocks

it’s loud and passionate

Covers up the internal screams of the past latching back onto him, into the lingering scars

Stinging Pain sinking back into those same spots like the angry gnashing claws of a beast

He’s hurting

But so are you

Your hurting together through shared experiences and ones he could never wish to experience

Jinbe holds you for a long while

Time melts away as do the phantom pains of those long past days

You hold him back

The soft material of his yukata pulling you in even further

Warmth

Comfort

Understanding

And your unspoken words of ‘thank you’ to his of ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’

You let time melt away a little more as they find themselves once more

“Why did you tell us this?” Fisher asks this with tears still falling down his face. Jinbe holds you close, webbed hand behind your head as he pulls you closer. You hear the waves lapping at the boat and the beats of his heart, it thumps like a drum. Rhythmically helping your equally torn apart emotions.

“I heard you talking about your experience. I thought it’s fair that I do the same” it’s said in such a simple manner that it makes the two fishmen reel back in shock for the third time in a night. It’s said in such sincerity and innocence, as if that was something normal “an equal exchange,If you will”

The crew watch on in confusion the next morning at the expression of thinking Fisher has on his face

Along with the clear signs of crying that Jinbe and him hold

People push but neither say a word

They say it isn’t their story to tell as their eyes trail back to you sitting with Hatchan

Playing a game innocently

Obliviously

Like a regular kid

Most don’t push after their captains grim expression

The look in his eyes

Some keep their curiosity to a low lit flame yet don’t get anywhere on the account they can’t get you to spill anything and Jinbe doesn’t exactly like them being nosey

So it eventually fizzles out

Things back back to normal

You tell your tales

Show them games they’d never played

You in turn learn more about fishman and mermaid society

But then you leave just as abruptly as you appeared

It’s weird to say but at a diner with them all as shanties are sung you just randomly say that soon you’ll be leaving

And despite how most of them hate to admit it

They didn’t want you to go

Hatchan is comically crying as a few others stubbornly argue against it

That it’s dangerous and you could get yourself killed

They look to Fisher and Jinbe who had been more observant of you as of late (if that’s even more humanly possible for Jinbe)

But their met with a reaction none had thought would happen

They object

They say it’s your choice and they can’t shackle you here

The sea was your home

And so the decision for your leave was cemented

In the days leading up to it you spend time with most the crew

But they all notice that at night you and their captain look out to the sky at night

Silence conversations happening through mere looks

pure understanding

Just pure solemn understanding

None make comments on it if they see it

Don’t mention it and forget it ever happened out of respect for both parties

And when the time comes to leave they all watch (some crying even) while waving goodbye

You promise them you’d meet again

“You’ll all be at sea right? Then that means you’ll definitely see me again someday! Wait and see! Grasp your freedom strong and tight, never take it forgranted”

Fisher watches and waves as you drift off into the distance, he holds a gentle smile

He hopes he’d meet you again

Hopes that perhaps you’d somehow end up on fishman island and talk to his people

As much as he thought Otohime’s talks of humans and fishmen working together in harmony were a naive and impossible dream

Perhaps if there were more humans like you it could work

And maybe

Just maybe

It would help both sides see that in the end neither were that different from one another

In your words on the silent night before you left “we both bleed, we feel and in the end we both have the same fates don’t we?. At heart no matter if your fishman, mermaid, human or anything else we experience the same gifts of life. We are all equal in the fact we are born on this earth and die here, and with that comes the desire for freedom and the pursuit of happiness”

He and his crew still have a lot to grapple with on the road to change

But you helped them start the first steps in overcoming the hate for your kind

A young immortal human child who had seen horrors upon horrors

Inflicted by their own kind that they will never stop loving with all their heart

Because you believe that inherently almost every sentient creature is born with kindness in them. It’s the world that corrupts it

When they are asked to take a former slave girl back to her hometown he does not have any hesitation to do so

He hopes that this is the next step in overcoming his hatred

Mihawk

Mihawk thought he was going to have a nice and relaxing day

His morning had been going great, a nice glass of red wine before he trained, a good breakfast

And then when he went outside of his castle there he finds is a young child looking around confused

….god damn it

So yeah, you died and just randomly appeared on the island that houses the greatest swordsman currently in the world

Not exactly your first choice but it wasn’t the worse

Well wasn’t bad instil the swordsman himself shows up looking as confused as you were

Yeah seems like you have some explaining to do

And dying or running away wouldn’t exactly help with the endeavour either since he seems intent on an answer

So here you are

In a gothic mansion lead by Mihawk into a room as he calmly sits down and asks you to explain

Now

And so you do

Well…you do the best you can to explain your entire situation as he sits there with a blank expression

By the end he just sighs

To be honest he’s not sure if he believes it or not but he takes it as an answer for now

And after that you two form an odd friendship and routine as you spend your time on his island

To his pleasure your polite and not loud

Silently watching him train or go about his day

Along with that conversations with you are actually quite pleasant

Mihawk is a man of very few words

Only shanks is able to get him talking with the help of finely aged booze

Yet talking with you comes naturally as breathing the air around him

It’s intriguing

Especially as it seems your story isn’t a bluff for how personally and detailed your recounts of events are 

Colour him impressed

you talk of Roger in a way that only Shanks could do

Describe the gods valley event with details only found in classified marine files

Not only that but your also a good storyteller

Telling such events in glorious ways that he can’t help but listen to the liquid gold that is your voice

The treasure trove of stories that flow out your mind

He must admit that he can’t help but sit on the edge of his seat

Wanting to hear more

In this time he comes to care for you

Your a child eternally

One in a cruel world that preys on the weak

While you may be strong mentally (god knows if you hadn’t then you would’ve gone insane) but physical your not

What doesn’t help is your total and utter lack of self awareness

God knows the amount of times he’d saved your ass from being killed by Humandrills

After awhile they seem to get the memo of leaving you alone but that still doesn’t stop you from almost dying in other ways

Almost walking off a cliff

Almost falling into a river

Almost getting hit by a piece of falling stone

He is now paranoid and trails you like a shadows or has you stick around him incase of yet another near death incident

God is this what being a dad feels like? Cause that’s how Mihawk feels at this point

He has half the mind to buy a child leash or something similar

Cause if you wander off one more time and almost die he’s gonna-

You make his stress levels go through the roof

Doesn’t help you completely brush of dying as no big deal

As if being eaten that one time isn’t traumatic as hell

He wonders if his position of warlord has some sort of health benefits cause he might look into therapy

Not that you think you need it though, you think your completely fine yet he begs to differ

You find it funny how stoic he is yet you can read him like a book

He shows his growing care through actions

Like making breakfast or decorating a spare room of his castle to something more suited to your taste

The unspoken offer of “if you need a place to stay your always welcome here” through these actions

A silent way of also prepping for you leaving

He knows that moment is coming

Especially as your small “boat” drifts ashore

He’s hardly call that a boat but nether the less it floats on water and you call it a boat

In your time preparing to leave he insists on at least teaching you the basics of using a sword

The proper positioning of your grip and stance

How to give a powerful slash

You pick up quickly, years of watching experienced swordsmen coming into play

He’s proud yet worry sows itself into his brow

Your a kind soul

One that has been put through untold hell and back

Even the strongest sword can bend and break if pressure is put on the perfect point

He doesn’t know what your breaking point will be but he’s worried

Cause inevitably it’s bound to happen

He at least has some peace of mind knowing he taught you how to fight

And when he sends you off he promises that when you next meet he’d have Sword fit for you

The castle feels more lonely without your small pitter patter of footsteps

The air is still when it should be filled with your stories of old

The garden takes more effort than he remembers when your not there to pull out the weeds

The Humandrills seem to miss your presence

It’s odd but you’d left such an impact in such a small amount of time

Mihawk wouldn’t have it any other way though

Hiriluk

Recently on the spring island you found yourself on there had been rumours of a thief going by

Normally this wouldn’t had caught your attention

But one day as you walk past an odd eccentric man with Snow White hair in a ridiculous manner with clearly stolen objects you can’t help but be intrigued

Especially as he shifts into an alleyway, leaning against the grimy wall with a hand over his heart

Coughs racking his entire form

Almost crumbling down as the subsequent spoils of his stealing fall as well

It’s then and there you become invested in this odd man

His story

So you decide to help him

For someone’s who’s a thief you’d thinks he’d be less enthusiastic about giving out his name

But your sorrily mistaken (in a good way) as the man introduces himself as Hiriluk

A master thief of the grand line

A plunderer of countless treasures and various tales

You nod along

Listening intently to his words as you help walk him to his hideout

The poor man is still shaken after his illness acting up again

Apparently as of late it’s been worse, so much so that he fears his days are now limited

But despite that he keeps a quite chipper attitude

Somehow finding enjoyment despite his circumstances

He’s…much like yourself in that sense

Finding joy even in the bleak conditions of your reality

It…is nice in some sense

To find someone a lot like yourself in mindset

Makes conversation much more interesting as you both talk of similar viewpoints

Much like you he is plagued with a curse that follows him everywhere he goes

From island to island

No matter the pace he canning escape his disease

A factor of his life that he must now deal with as he enjoys the time he has left

He’d given up on a cure by now

But…despite that you can’t help but research a bit to at least try

He appreciates the effort but solemnly admits that he’s tried everything

Hell, his island is known for their doctors and they couldn’t help him

He’s a lost cause like anyone with white lead disease

It’s a fact he accepts

And sadly you do so as well

Your stand only works for you

It’s entire purpose is for its user and not for anyone else

Not versatile or has any multiple uses

At least not that you knew of anyways

So on that factor you can’t do anything

So as you accept that fact you instead focus on spending time with the man

Listening to him get drunk and talk of someone named Kureha

An “old witch” with a stubborn edge and sharp tongue

But also has a kind heart

Someone who became a doctor for a reason, to help others as best she could even if she caused some chaos in the process

An odd one just like him (and you he adds with a smile) someone who didn’t fit in with the crowd

But maybe that was ok

Being different could very much be a curse for several reasons

Especially in a judgmental society that is maintained by the world government

But that otherness was also a blessing

Weirdness serving as a catalyst for so many wonderful things

For new ideas

For stubborn creativity that wouldn’t be snuffed out but instead burn bright

For brining together the people society looked down upon and giving them a chance to rise up

Your stay on the island is coming to a close but despite that Hiriluk doesn’t panic or seem depressed at the thought

Instead he finds happiness in the time still left

The conversations that have been spoken

The time he has left in this world being used for something truly nice

Not just stealing

Instead now truly engaging with life

The spring island your both on is now at its fullest bloom

The place was somewhat famous for how beautiful it was but neither of you had yet to see it

So the day before you go you asked if he’d like to go see it with you before you left

A last hurrah

One that would be spent watching the cherry blossoms in full bloom and have lunch

He agreed

The next morning is spent with him getting snacks of all kinds

Him packing them in a small basket as you lead him with the directions you got from locals

The two of you go up the hill overlooking the light pink trees in full bloom

His hand gripping yours as he goes still in shook

The sight is breath taking

Even the air from your lungs is seemingly sucked out at the sight of the trees in full bloom

The petals gently cascading down like snow around you

Getting stuck in your hair and pooling in his cupped hands

His eyes tear up and stare down at the pink petals

It’s breathtaking

And for the first time in a long while he feels ok

There was no blockage in his chest

Nor the looming grip of death on his shoulders

He felt cured

Like an average man that he always wanted to

The dream of his that died long ago in a doctors office when they said it was incurable

But now as he stares he feels hope

Something igniting in him in place of his Illness

These small fluttering petals had an impact on him just as you had

It cured him somehow

You showing him this magical sight cured him

And now he wanted to do that for others

He wanted to show the people of his bleak winter island this magnificent sight

To see pink instead of the white fluttering snow

To see trees not covered in snow that dampened their beauty

To feel the air escape their lungs

The lunch goes by quickly as does your leaving but both of you do so with a smile

He sets off with a new goal and you wish him luck

Telling him that you believe he’d somehow come up with a solution cause people like the two if you always did somehow

He smiles

When he returns back to his home island he sets out to be a doctor

To help cure others just as you had done with him

Some of The petals he collected that day kept in a small glass jar he kept as a souvenir and for testing

When Kureha calls him crazy he takes the words in pride

Recalling back on your time spent together

That odd little kid who had a spirit beyond their days

One who would humour his ramblings

Took him to that fateful place of blooming Sakura that would go on to change his life course forever

A parting gift in both an experience and in changing his life for the good

So he works on bringing that miracle to the winter island he lives on

Despite how impossible it seems he tries

And he tries and tries

And he keeps going despite how many times he is pushed down by yet another failure

You motivate him

The gift you gave him that he wants to share with others motivated him

His new student that in a lot of ways reminds him of you motivated him

Chopper sometimes still wonders why Hiriluk had taken him in

It lingers on the small reindeer’s mind

And it’s glaringly obvious what he’s thinking making the old “doctor” laugh

“Us weirdo’s have to stick together. I learned that from a friend of mine” as he says this the small blue nosed reindeer watches as the man pulls a framed photo off the wall. In it is him and a child with a large smile. “Hopefully one day you’ll meet them.”

“You…do you think they would accept me?”

Hiriluk let’s our a large laugh at that, clutching his sides as small tears line his eyes “if they hung around a old crazy coot like me then I’m sure they’d love you”

His young apprentice feels hope at his words

Sometimes silently staring at the picture with faint hope that one day he’d meet the doctor-….no his dad’s old friend

Perhaps in the future

But for now he had to help him find a cure

His sickness is getting worse and chopper doesn’t now if he could live with himself if he didn’t find a cure

His only lead as of now is some mushroom that can apparently cure anything

It’s a long shot but he has to try

He gazes as the photo once more

Hiriluk’s smiling face staring back along with your own

He’ll make sure Hiriluk will get to see you again

He promises it

With that the young reindeer sets off in the snow

Whenever you see the cascading petals of cherry blossoms you wonder how that odd doctor was doing

Brook

It was at reverse mountain that you had found yourself being picked up by a particular crew

The rumbar pirates had originated in the west blue

A musical band of jolly singing pirates with instruments of all kinds

All of which varied from different islands and cultures

Brough together in musical harmony

It’s amazing to you how music seems to come to them wordlessly

They play and magic is produced from their songs

So much so a baby whale follows them in their journey and is now waiting for them to return

A promise they intend to keep as the travel the sea like any good crew

Whilst the captain and crew are welcoming and friendly there’s one person in particular your drawn to

Brook is a fun and free soul

Constantly with a smile or chuckling out his odd but charming laugh

The musician teaches you piano as best he can

His hands guiding yours as the crew eagerly watch with bright smiles

Eventually as they sing and dance he has you play side by side with him

Placing his top hat in your head as they all call you “mini brook”

It’s fun

Especially as the giant of a man picks up his violin and lets you play alone

The two of you stringing together a melody that the others join in on

Dancing and singing with slurred speech and jumbled steps

Those nights feel like a haze in your mind

One with a rosy tinted filter overtop those memories

Of the songs sung

The dancing as the crew took turns showing you their groove

Taking your hands into their own and your feet atop theirs as they showed you to dance

But then the music began to die

Despite your many deaths you’d experienced and saw of pirates

This was one that was common yet still chilling

Illness

Honestly with how many ships you’d been on your surprised you’d never experienced a death like this

And it’s certainly one you’d never thought they’d have to suffer through

It starts off as one person

And then it spreads

Brook and the others keep you away from the sight

Telling you that they were just hungover

You don’t tell them you know hangovers don’t last several days

As others being to fall Brook keeps to at least trying to keep the facade of things are fine in front of you

Even as he has to take the place of their captain

He has a good facade

But you hear his sobs at night

For his fallen Crew and the fact it’s still spreading

And for you

By god is he worried for you

They’d all talked of the possibility of having you take your small shipped tied to their own and leave

But they all agree it’s too big of a risk

Their at the middle of the sea, it would be a death sentence if they let you go on your own

They can’t have that happen

Even if there’s still a chance here that you’ll die

There’s still the possibility that at least someone will spot their ship

That help can come and at least rescue you

So for now they have you stay

The symptoms come slowly

You feel more tired

Burning up

Laboured breath

Their all mortified as you one day pass out on deck

When you wake up your tucked into bed

Nearby someone sobs

You recognize his voice and blurred figure despite your senses being dulled

Small shaky hands reach for his

And he reciprocated the action repeating that he’s sorry

That he’s so sorry

That it’s his fault

That he was supposed to keep you safe

You say it isn’t his fault but it falls on deaf ears

He keeps crying even as he coughs

You keep saying it’s alright even as it feels harder to breath

Eventually even though everyone is dead or on the brink of dying they decide to do one last number

One last piece

Binks booze

You sit beside Brook having to lean against him for support as both his and your hands drift along the ivory keys

The songs plays full force

The few left playing the tune

Some cheerfully sing with smiles and dance withe one another

But they fall first

Dying with smiles despite it all

You sing in their place along with those who are left

The singing goes down by one as yet another falls down

Violin clattering to the floor

You sing louder in his place despite how your lungs burn and throat feels as if needles scrape against it

Another violinist goes down after this

Brook shakes beside you

He keeps up a smile

You do so as well but tears escape your eyes

A quartet

The cello goes down

A trio

His smile wavers and tears trail down his face now

He’s breaking

The final goes down now

It’s just you and Brook left, but you feel yourself getting weaker

The edges of your eyes have black dotes and every time you close them it’s harder to open them once more

A duet

You keep playing for his sake

He looks down at you sobbing silently as he continues to play

Their flag waves silently in the wind

“I’m not sure how longer I can play…do you think you can do a solo?”

Tearfully he nods

Playing as you sing

Continuing even after the lyrics stop flowing from your mouth and you slump down into his side

A solo

He cries

Eventually the piano comes to a close

Despite there being no skeleton of you to put with the rest of the memorial Brook doesn’t question it

The sight of Your body disappearing into golden light was just a trick of the mind all those years ago to help with the grief of him failing you

He knows he went insane a long time ago

He’s spent years alone at sea mulling over their deaths, of yours and the promise to Laboon

His mind is long gone as he wanders the old tattered ship that used to be filled with song

Despite it all he tries to put up a mask of being happy

But he never sings

Never plays music

He can’t deal with another solo

Can’t deal with that last performance

Sometimes he thinks of the songs they made

The one the crew made about you that surprisingly got popular

Based off the odd tales of stars you talked about

An undying one

He wonders if it still plays

You remember they made a song about you

It’s long forgotten to the many new sailors of the sea

But on occasion you hear it from old souls. Those who had traveled the seas for many years and had retained the songs and myths now forgotten to the new

The sound of it always makes you smile, but it is tinged with sadness as you do so

Whenever it is sung or Binks Booze you promised yourself you’d always join in

A promise to them, that kind musical crew all those years ago that suffered a horrible death from a bad stroke of luck

You carry their memory along with Laboon

Whenever you end up at reverse mountain you always sing the songs they once did to ease the whales heart ache

It can only do so much but Laboon at least stops jutting against the mountain momentarily

Wanting to one day reunite with those jolly sailors

You wish you could one day do the same

But for now you carry their memories

Their songs that house the remnants of their souls

Sometimes you swear you see their rotting ship

But you always wave it off as missing them

Of delusions of your mind as you stare out into the darkness of the sea

[satoruphilia]

Stronger Than The Strongest? Gojo x Reader

tags: somewhat canon au, reader is a sorcerer, geto doesnt go insane, reader's curse is pretty much yuta's, tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, no smut, fair date, gojo is head over heels, featuring the smiths

A/N: I have 4 hours to fuck around before I need to get to work, wish me luck

2.2k words ON THE DOT!

Being a student sorceror was something you never expected. Finding friends along the way, and even a boyfriend? Unheard of. But here you were, you had a main friend group with Gojo Satoru, the strongest, Geto Suguru, your best friend, and Shoko Ieri, the only sense of the group. She had some medical technique you didnt understand, resulting in her dreams to become a doctor. Geto's and Gojo's were the most powerful. Your cursed technique was a little more complicated than theirs, you didn't even know if it was a cursed technique or luck. Before the Jujutsu world, you were on the streets with one friend, Rika. Until one day, you found her dead. The grief of the incident transformed her into a Curse. She was basically attached to you, she came out when you requested. When she came out, her strength was comparable to Sukuna, king of curses. But you also had trouble controlling her.

You, Geto and Gojo were sent on a mission, which instantly soured your mood. Gojo was so self absorbed and inlove with himself. How the hell did Suguru put up with him? He was a spoiled sheltered boy, you knew how the world rolled, just didn't know how he hadn't been bitch slaped yet (an; im sorry gojo) atleast you had geto with you aswell.

"Y/N! After this, let's go get candy, im hungry!" You rolled your eyes, continuing your walk to an abandoned middle school. There were reports of a Grade 1 curse killing off the kids. While they fucked around, you were focused on analyzing the situation. Would Rika be necessary or could you let them deal with it? You were tired anyway.

You and Geto made the decision to let Gojo handle the curse after you found it. Given his strength, he could handle it. As Gojo muttered something about showing off due to his audience, you took one of Geto's cigerettes and lit it. Throughout a battle, the curse unexpectedly doubled, and then those two doubled. Four curses were now aimed at him. His strategy faltered, raising an eyebrow between the two of you.

Gojo Satoru was struggling, huh. Not something you planned to see in this lifetime. He grunted, falling onto his back after another blow. Did that idiot seriously turn off infinity to show off? "Rika," you said coolly. A dark curse appeared behind you, before going after the duplicates.

Geto laughed and threw his arm over Gojo's shoulder, "You're a dumbass." All he did was roll his eyes.

"I had it under control, y/n just wanted to impress me, right?" This had Geto roaring in laughter. You were walking beside the two, drinking a bottle of water, even more tired than when you came.

"Can't believe you already lost your title," He teased, "The strongest isnt the strongest anymore" Gojo rolled his eyes and laughed it off, but observing him closely, something was different. Fear? Hurt? Did he just get humbled? It was fascinating. They ran off to some candy shop, and that was the end of it.

Maybe.

While you forgot about it, Gojo drove himself crazy. He knew what Geto said was a joke, 80% of what he said was a joke. Now he was obsessing over it. Not even the fact that he struggled, but how nonchalant you were about saving his ass. You still had a cigerette in hand the whole time. The way you effortlessly wielded your cursed techniques, the grace in your movements, and the fire in your eyes ignited something within Gojo. As the minutes ticked by, Gojo found himself unable to focus on anything else. His mind drifted to you. You became more than just a lady to him. He started to stare at you in class, always trying to study with you without Geto, taking note of your beauty. That was another thing that drove him crazy. He knew you were conventually attractive, but now you were so much more.

"That was hilarious," he greeted, a playful glint in his eyes. "You correcting Yaga-sensei. The class was wild!"

You chuckled. "He was making himself look stupid, so yeah."

He chuckled in return, rubbing the back of his head. "You still need help with Math? Im an expert." Where did he learn that from? Geto, who he wouldn't shut up to. Of course, he never shut up, but he was always asking Geto about you. You and Geto were closer friends, considering he was a respectable person unlike Gojo. You two occasionally skated and smoked together, and Gojo was not jealous at all. Even after Geto told him you were like his little sister.

As the conversation continued, Gojo found himself hanging onto your every word, genuinely intrigued by your words. He laughed at your jokes, listened intently to your stories, and even found reasons to touch on shared interests. It wasn't long before he realized that his feelings were evolving beyond a mere admiration for you.

In the following days, Gojo's interactions with you became more intentional. He'd join you for lunch, initiate conversations about non-jujutsu related topics, and even offer his assistance in training. When he found out how much you loved music, he made a playlist for when you two hung out. All your favorites were in there, and he sprinkled in a few love songs by your favorite singers. His once carefree demeanor seemed to soften in your presence, and there were moments when his gaze lingered just a bit longer, his eyes betraying a depth of feeling.

Eyes dont lie, something you've learned throughout your youth. So you hyperfixated on it when talking to people. Thats how you saw through people's bullshit, especially guys who just wanted you for your body. Initially, you assumed Gojo was trying to get in your pants. but now its been 3 months since that mission. 3 months since he's changed his attitude around you. And around a month since you started falling for him aswell.

It wasn't until a quiet evening in the school library that you realized your feelings. He found you reading with your headphones in, smiling as he took a seat next to you. "I love the smiths," You flinched, looking up at him and pulling one headphone to the side.

"Sorry?"

"I said I love the smiths," It took a second, then you smiled, realizing it could be heard from outside. You paused your song, taking them off. "You know, listening to music that loud can make you go deaf."

"Then together we'd make the Helen Keller duo, huh?" He snorted. You laughed aswell. The joke wouldn't be funny anywhere else, but with him, everything seemed to be downright hilarious.

"I'm not blind, my vision is so good I can wear a blindfold and still see perfectly," The conversation dissolved into nonsense. Music, studying, whats new, cats, even the upcoming summer break. Eventually he brought up your curse, interrogating it's ability. "So why does she do everything you say?"

"We have a deal. If I give her energy, she will do as I say. It's like Aki Hayakawa's ability, if you've ever seen-"

"Chainsaw Man!!" He exclaimed, making you smile wider. "I literally love that anime, I binged it at a sleepover with Suguru," Once again, the conversation dissolved into useless stuff. Eventually, it was brought back to Suguru. "Are you secretly crushing on my Sugu?" You snorted.

"He's like my brother."

"Ohh, so you're crushing on me!" You felt a heat on your cheeks, but rolled your eyes.

"That'd be pointless, you have other girls waiting on you." His smile nearly faltered.

"You can't blame them, Im the hottest on campus."

"You know, I don't think I see Sugu as a brother anymore," You said with a smirk. He groaned before gagging.

"Im hotter than him, thats why I have a roster," This time, you gagged.

"thats so cringe. How do you explain him dating Kaelyn then?" He rolled his eyes, changing the subject again. It must be like 1 in the morning now, and he offered to walk you to your dorm. Your comment on him having other girls stuck with him. You were smart, had the highest grades in most of your classes and you were an expert on analyzing. Why couldn't you see his feelings for you? And why was he feeling like a middle school boy, why was it so hard to talk to you? Were you seriously stronger than him?

Gojo, normally the master of composed nonchalance, found himself stumbling over his words. "Y/n," You looked at him. He knew he was obvious, considering Suguru and Shoko always asked him if he had asked you out already. Suguru even told him it was obvious to everyone except for him and you, then calling you two idiots. "You should come to the fair with me tomorrow, I'll pick you up." You smiled brightly, reached the door to your dorm.

"Alright, text me the time. Bye Gojo."

"huh, you still wont call me Satoru," He whined.

"Bye, Satoru"

Shit.

If he wasnt head over heels already he was now.

Four knocks hit your door the next evening. You opened the door for him after fixing your hair for the 32nd time. He looked you up and down, a pink tint growing on his cheeks. "Your outfit is beautiful." Even in its simplicity, beauty can be found. You donned a red tube top, black jacket and bootcut jeans. He wore black jeans and a white tee.

At the fair, you two had tons of fun running around. Geto also came, he brought Kaelyn, who kept calling this a double date. They eventually ran off, leaving you and Gojo alone. You challenged him to one of the games, both wanting the cute cat plushie. He of course won, but decided to give you the plushie. You kept it sticking out of your purse slightly, as if it were Elle Woods and her chihuahua. Your cheeks were sore from smiling and talking so much. It grew dark, meaning it was a busy time for the fair. You didn't think much of it, hell, you weren't even analyzing the crowd so see if anyone had bad intentions. You were so focused on Gojo.

Speaking of being focused on Gojo, he gradually become more and more irritated. You stopped him, having to yell over top the people, asking whats wrong. He tried to play it off, then you realized his head was probably so overwhelmed with how many people were there. You took his hand and walked around, finding a spot behind a hot dog machine. He sat down, groaning and rubbing his temples. "Too many people..." You sat next to him, closer than friends should be. You held his hand, waiting for his migraine to calm down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin this," Your eyebrow raised, surprised to hear him apologize sincerly.

"Dont, you didn't ruin anything." After a minute, he looked at you, the proximity sending red to his cheeks.

"Suguru was right," You eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Youre stronger than me," His gazed set on your eyes, then your lips. "Can I kiss you?" You only smiled, leaning closer.

"Yeah," You weren't sure who closed the distance, neither of you were, but your lips were pressed against his. You pulled away, before leaning back in. You'd been waiting for god knows how long. When you pulled away this time, his hand rested on yours again. "I'm not stronger than you, Satoru."

"Theres a million definitions to strength. I can't describe it, but you are stronger than me. As a person." You understood what he meant. You talked about nothing and yet everything, still sitting behind the truck, the noise of people dying down.

"Its about 9:00pm, people are starting to leave. Do you want to ride the ferris wheel?" He smiled, taking your hand and standing up, helping you up after.

"Of course," when you two left, Geto and Kaelyn saw you holding hands and squealed like little kids. They started on who bet what, making Satoru laugh. You were right earlier, there were a lot less people. 'Nobody Gets Me' was playing faintly in the background.

How am I supposed to tell you?

I dont wanna see you with anyone but me

On the ferris wheel, he had one arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other hand holding yours.

Nobody gets me like you

How am I supposed to let you go

You looked into the stars, mesmerized by their beauty. Satoru stared at you, just like you stared into the stars. He could get lost in you. Satoru wasn't a man who had plans for the future. He knew he would have to be a sorceror, and he'd die being one. He was okay with that on the terms that he wouldn't be bored, and he'd have a really fucking cool death. Now that had changed, all he wanted to do was grow old with you. He was okay dying of sickness or age, as long as you were by his side.

Only like myself when Im with you

Nobody gets me, you do

part 2???

[astrozuya]

☆ GOOD NIGHT — kang taehyun.

✦ content‎: ‎taehyun x gn!reader. fluff. 0.5k wc. summary: to you, home is kang taehyun. you don't see that ever changing.

you blink sleepily and open your eyes, warm and surrounded by soft blankets, your head resting comfortably on someone's chest.

you look up, and even in your dazed state you instantly know it's taehyun. he's more familiar to you than your own reflection, and even in the dimness of the room you know it's him, because you'd never feel this safe with anyone else.

the contentment and relief of having him with you gives way to frustration when you realise he's in the same position he was a few hours ago, when you first drifted off to sleep cuddled close to him.

"tyun," you whine, your voice a little hoarse from disuse. "i said i was fine, you didn't have to stay—"

"angel, you're sick." he sounds affronted at the very idea of leaving you alone, and you can make out a slight frown on his face through the dim, hazy illumination of the night light. "there's no way i'm leaving your side until morning."

you frown too, not backing down. "have you even moved since i went to sleep?"

"i have, don't worry." he places a bookmark into the paperback in his hands, before setting it down on the nightstand and taking off his glasses.

he carefully arranges the covers around you, making sure you're warm and comfortably tucked in, then places a hand gently against your cheek. "you're still running hotter than normal, you need rest."

"you're silly," you mumble. "i said 'm fine.. it's just a fever."

"i'm still gonna stay right here, sweetheart." his hand finds its way to your head and he strokes your hair gently, smiling when you relax and nuzzle into his touch.

"i just… don't want you to force yourself to be here." your words come out as a mumble, and taehyun frowns again.

"it's okay to be taken care of, y/n. i love taking care of you, baby, so please, let me be selfish and look after you for as long as i want."

"and how long would that be?"

he laughs softly. "who's silly now? forever, of course."

you feel tears prick at your eyes and quickly blink them away, blaming your sensitivity on your unwell state. taehyun is nothing short of perfect, and you know that, you've always known that, but his overwhelming tenderness still manages to take your breath away sometimes.

you hide your face in his chest and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer as he presses a kiss to your head.

"i'll make you some soup when you wake up, okay?"

you nod wordlessly, the exhaustion finally hitting your body, and cuddle closer to him, relishing in the warmth of his body and the safety of his presence as you let your eyes drift shut.

taehyun plays with your hair, adoration etched onto his features as he watches you fall asleep. the last thing you remember before sleep takes you is his whispered promise: "rest up and go to sleep, my darling. i'll be right here when you wake up. i love you."

notes: sick and twisted that i'm unwell but don't have a tyun to cuddle me rn ㅠ ㅠ when will the horrors end.. anyways this is painfully self indulgent but idc anymore cringe isnt real. i hope this was ok :)

[zebulontheplanet]

See companies like assistiveware (this is just not assistiveware, see it in other AAC companies. This isnt an attack on them) who are doing great in some ways, and bad in others. See them bringing awareness to AAC, taking peoples advice, doing studies, involving the community, and trying so hard.

Yet then see their videos that they feature. See them saying “nonspeaking doesn’t mean non-intelligent” and trying to undermine those with intellectual disability. Like intellectual disability fake, a placebo, a word given by doctors that isn’t true anymore. Which is not the case for the 30% of autistic people who have intellectual disability. Is it true some get misdiagnosed with intellectual disability? Absolutely! And those people need to be heard, but intellectually disabled people also need to be heard. See them saying things like “use nonspeaking, nonverbal bad”. And yes, some prefer the term nonspeaking, and it’s a BIG percentage of people who prefer nonspeaking, but still saying nonverbal bad. Still speaking over those who use nonverbal. Still fighting to make people use the term nonspeaking and argue with anyone who says otherwise.

Assistiveware is good in some ways, and needs reforming in others.

[anzynai]

Hi you love twisted wonderland too, I haven't watched the show or played the game(s) so for the request can you do lee Floyd and ler jade or ler Floyd and lee jade the lee could be in a bad or sad mood {you can choose] and they need some cheer up tickles. Have a good day/night.🤗

fEELing

Jade & Floyd (TWST)

a/n: dont worry guys i hate the title too. ALSO SORRY RVERYONE, i know it took forever to get this out but ive been struggling with coming up with ideas and idkkk ANYWAYS, at least this one is up now! i don’t think theyre too ooc but uhh, if they are, please disregard. hope u enjoy!

if this isnt obvious (which is should be), these r twins so don’t ship them??? 💀

summary: when floyd is feeling down, jade tries to cheer him up.

warnings: contains tickling, and multiple florid (floyd x riddle) mentions!

word count: 1.1k

——

“Ughhh…” Floyd groaned very audibly, walking into Jade’s room, and plopping down face-first into the bed. It was a habit of his to go to his twin when he was feeling down and didn’t feel like being alone.

Jade, who was sitting at his desk, working on his homework from the day’s classes, turned around in his chair, watching Floyd mope.

“You seem… upset,” Jade noted, pursing his lips.

“Riddle’s bein’ annoying’…” Floyd crossed his arms, pouting.

“Is he now?”

“I keep trying to talk to him, but he’s all like, ‘Get away from me, Floyd!’ or ‘I’m busy!’. Blah blah blah!” Floyd turned his head, facing the other.

Jade raised a brow. “That never bothered you before.”

“I know, but…” Floyd paused for a second, trailing off, before he let out another groan, more emphasized this time.

Jade stayed silent, thinking, before a lightbulb seemed to light up in his head. “Does this.. have anything to do with your feelings for him?”

Floyd made eye contact with his twin. “I knew nothing ever would get past you,” He replied, but didn’t deny Jade’s words.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice my own brother skipping work to bother a certain redhead? The amount of complaints Azul has had for you recently..” Jade put a hand over his heart, feigned shock in his features.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, when he keeps avoiding me,” Floyd rolled over against the bed so he was laying on top of the pillows horizontally. Jade stood up from the desk, sitting at the edge of his bed, beside his brother.

“Perhaps, talk to him.” Jade rubbed Floyd’s back in what he hoped was a comforting matter. Floyd was never one to be against touch, especially with him, but how effective it was in cheering him up varied.

Floyd invited the touch, most likely unconsciously, but leaning into it nonetheless.

“I…” Floyd seemed shy, something that was very unlike him. Jade was sure if he was anyone else, Floyd wouldn’t be so vulnerable. “I don’t know how,” Floyd admitted with a sigh. “I’m so used to annoyin’ him and messin’ with him, but I don’t know how else to act around him.”

Floyd shoved his face into the pillow, growling at it in irritation.

“And?” Jade pushed, sensing that Floyd had more to say.

“I don’t want him to be annoyed with me anymore.”

Jade’s eyes widened. This was a very interesting thing for Floyd to say, because it was Floyd. Floyd never cared what people thought of him. Jade chuckled to himself. Love really does change people, doesn’t it?

Floyd seemed to take his chuckle as mocking and he lightly shoved him away, a half-hearted glare on his face.

“In my opinion, perhaps, start with small changes. You don’t have to switch up immediately. Slowly, you’ll adjust,” Jade told him. Plus, he had a suspicion that Riddle, if not returned his feelings, at least enjoyed his presence. If Floyd was truly a nuisance, Riddle had ways of being alone, yet he was almost always found in places where a certain eel had a high chance of appearing.

“You’re right,” Floyd huffed. “As always..”

Jade resisted another chuckle, gently pinching Floyd’s side. His smile widened when Floyd flinched. “Don’t be like that, dear brother.”

He curled his index around Floyd’s waist, eliciting a gasp from the other.

“Jade!” Floyd said, but there was no tone of annoyance detected, so Jade took that as a sign to continue. It made sense. Floyd had never been against tickling, whether he was tickling someone or he was being tickled. It was typically only Azul who would fight against it, though Jade suspected it was only to keep up pretenses. Jade brought his other hand to Floyd’s hips, squeezing at the sensitive skin.

“Yes, Floyd?” Jade tilted his head, innocently, idly tapping and gliding his fingers across Floyd’s torso. If Floyd hadn’t known what he was doing, Jade was sure it would've seemed like a mere accident.

“Stahahap ihihit! I’ll gehehet you bahahack!” Floyd didn’t bother hiding his giggles and Jade smiled. Laughter was quite a contagious thing and it seemed Jade was no less resistant to it than anyone else.

Jade swallowed, slowly. He was sure that Floyd definitely would get him back, but that was a problem for the future, he decided. His hands roamed to opposite sides of Floyd’s stomach as he scribbled and scratched any place he could reach.

The shirt Floyd was wearing provided no protection. Perhaps, if he had been wearing his full uniform, but he was only wearing the white polo shirt that was underneath anything. Perhaps, it would teach Floyd a lesson to wear his uniform properly, Jade joked to himself, knowing that it most certainly would not.

“Gahahaa! Jahahade!” Floyd flipped over, his back facing the headboard as he faced Jade, his hands uselessly pawing at Jade’s nimble fingers. Jade moved up towards his ribs, poking in between the bones and pinching the skin. Jade reveled in Floyd’s laughter becoming more high-pitched.

“You are quite ticklish. Must suck being in your permission, no?” Jade teased, but Floyd seemed to not hear him, too caught up in his giggling fit, his face flushed. Despite Floyd’s flailing hands, he didn’t particularly seem to be putting in any strength in getting away from Jade, not even trying.

Jade had to admit, it made things much, much easier on his end.

It went on for several more minutes, until Floyd was practically screaming with laughter. The last thing they needed was someone barging in, thinking Jade was getting murdered or something. Though, that fate may not be much different from Floyd’s current predicament.

Jade stopped his tickling hands, allowing Floyd a chance to catch his breath. Floyd had a bright smile on his face, a complete switch-up from the depressing and frustrated aura radiating from him when he entered the room, and Jade said as so.

“You seem much more calm.”

“‘Course I am cuz now, I’m gonna get you back!”

“A-already?” Jade’s eyes widened, though he supposed he should have expected that. He backed away, moving from the bed and closer to the door, while trying not to look panicked. Because he definitely wasn’t. At all.

It was just that he never got tickled much! It was always Floyd and Azul, not him! So forgive him for avoiding it! It didn’t take long for Floyd to catch up, though. Jade reasoned that he was going easy on him, but Floyd didn’t listen as he began to tickle the other with a devious grin on his face.

“Hahahaha!” Jade broke after trying to conceal his giggles and Floyd’s smile widened. It was like a dam had been destroyed because Jade couldn’t get himself to stop laughing.

Amidst the laughter, he swore he heard Floyd thank him, but he couldn’t tell if it was his imagination. Floyd started to tickle his hips, squeezing and kneading.

“Nahahahah, F-flohohoyd!” He had more pressing matters to think about anyway.

[kiyokothehuman]

Beautiful Stranger

pairing: alhaitham x reader

summary: alhaitham giving you life advice

a/n: this was inspired by laufeys song "beautiful stranger"!! ALSO to the anon that requested this i am so sorry for not writing this sooner, this been in my inbox for months but i never had the time to write 💀

you sat on the docks of port ormos as your feet swayed against the ocean. you slowly inhaled the smell of the sea as the soft texture of grass gently tickled your skin. it was moments like these you truly appreciated life. you heard footsteps behind your back as you looked over to see a handsome young man looking over at the seas.

no, wait it's rude to stare. you thought as you quickly turned your head back. he looked like he was enjoying the silence, but some part of you wanted to go up and talk to him. you hesitated as you fiddled with your fingers.he looked somewhat troubled or lonely, you could practically sense a touch of sadness in his presence.

so, you mustered up your courage and decided to speak with the grey haired man. putting your sandals on and getting up from your spot, you quietly approached him and tapped his shoulder.

"hello!" you greeted, cheerfully, a smile presented on your face. he turned to you, looking stern. "may i help you?" he answered, raising a brow at the situation.

"no, no. i just wanted to have some small talk, thats all." you replied, followed by a small chuckle. "do you come here often?" you asked, sitting back down at the wooden docks.

he looked down on you, his face showing a hint of amusement. "not really, i'm too caught up in work to spend my time here." he replied, his grey hair flowing against the wind. he looked angelic, almost.

"ah, i see. where do you work?" you questioned, looking at the ocean view in front of you. "i work in the academia. what about you?" he responded. your eyes were suddenly filled with sorrow, and he could feel your demeanor change.

"unemployed at the moment, heh. here take a seat first." you offered, patting the area beside you as he sat down next to you. it was as if you were relieving memories with a friend, except this 'friend' is a stranger you knew nothing about.

"ever since i got rejected from the academia, i kind of just lost motivation from doing anything." you answered. although your voice was cheerful, there was a hidden sadness laced in your tone.

"why?" he questioned.

"i didn't know my purpose in life anymore." you responded, your voice devoid of any emotion. "the academia was what I thought would give meaning to my life, when i got rejected, i felt as if a great depression reigned over me." you added, your voice growing quieter and quieter for each word you spoke.

for you, the academia was like a light in darkness. a light that quickly shut you down once you've gotten close. the light you thought would save yourself from the darkness you were trapped in, but was only an illusion from your unrealistic ideals.

"how so? your purpose isnt found in pathetic schools that do nothing more than pressure its students. you are the one that will discover the meaning of your life." he stated, his eyes immersed at the ocean blue waters.

"as a human, our life span is incredibly short. so live one thats worth dying for instead of mourning for your failures." he added to which you just stared at him in awe, the sun gently showered over his features, as if he was an angel sent by heaven. how you wish a view like this could be seen throughout the seas.

"has anyone told you how beautiful you are?" you muttered without knowing.

"huh?" he looked at you in amusement, before a blush crept up to your ears. "i mean- sorry, please ignore that." you apologized looking down at your lap, desperately trying to rid your embarrassment.

"oh wait, i havent even gotten your name yet!" you panicked looking at the man as he chuckled. "alhaitham. and you are?" he asked as you smiled. "y/n."

alhaitham suddenly stood up, before speaking once again. "i apologize, but something has come up and i must take my leave." he stated.

just as he was about to leave, he spoke once again. "you truly are an interesting individual, y/n." he whispered in a volume that only you could hear. "it was nice meeting you, i hope that one day our paths will cross once more." he added before walking away.

"alhaitham." you unconsciously muttered.

you liked how the syllables of his name simply rolled off from your tongue. this man was quite the character. you wonder what kind of person he really is under that mask. but, something tells you that you've seen a glimpse of the person he really is. all this led you yearning to learn for more.

[mmmmalo]

Do you have any thoughts on what's up with hussie obsession with combining established characters in the latter half of the comic? Davepeta, Jasprose, Lord English, all the rest of the alpha kid sprites? If that goes towards a discussion of Ultimate Selves, why is the most complete version of yourself someone who isnt even solely you anymore? Love your analysis!

Hello, welcome! Here's a couple approaches:

Sprites, like other alt-selves, can serve the elaboration of self-loathing: Characters want to be happy and are very scared that they are incapable of being happy. Seeing a version of themselves that achieved happiness by integrating another person can be a nightmare, seemingly confirming that misery is a defining feature of their existence. AR mocks Dirk in these terms, leveraging both his alleged supercomputer brain and his integration of Equius to make Dirk feel inferior, intrinsically lacking. Though in Vriska's case, the lack of modification on (Vriska) was also infuriating: their sameness meant that Vriska was not, as she likes to claim, the way she is entirely out of necessity. Alternate selves have a way of making people question themselves, mingled or no.

Sprites provoke an audience response: fans get angry when characters are diluted, be that through prototyping sprites or through "mischaracterization", flanderization, or other unpopular modes of personality change. Rose might call this protecting the brand. So you could allege, as the guys on HMTW occasionally do, that this gesture of defying brand integrity is calculated to raise reader engagement by corrupting a quality of the narrative that readers are invested in. It's a method of trolling.

It's a race-mixing joke: The word "miscegenation" (which replaced the earlier “amalgamation”) was originally coined in an ostensibly abolitionist pamphlet by pro-slavery agents. Their goal was to weaken the Lincoln election campaign by provoking a fear that gene-mixing was the explicit goal of the abolitionists, claiming in the pamphlet that race-mixing created a superior class of being. Insofar as Homestuck is a parody of racist rhetoric, the claim that the Ultimate Self (and the Ultimate Frog) is the product of the endless recombination of divergent selves seems downstream of this sort of sexualized racial fear-mongering -- Rose's ascension (ie her dilution) in the Epilogues plays into this by casting Kanaya as the impotent white cuck against Dirk's black stud: "Hes Going To Take Good Care Of Rose; Probably Much Better Than Id Ever Be Able To" is euphemism for sexual potency. (Cuck jokes have followed Kanaya since her early chatlogs: recall the phrase "Watching Oblong Meat Products Tumble Into Places They Dont Belong") Saturating the narrative with distraught reactions to more abstracted amalgamation serves the story's racial subtext

This isn't by any means exhaustive -- abstract fears of mixing and merging can also be applied to coitus, pregnancy, the blurring of masculine and feminine, etc. The narrative achieves its density and sense of abstraction by applying itself to multiple motifs at once, I tend to think. The different approaches can euphemize one another

[forecast0ctopus]

how do you use references when you draw fanart or figure out how to draw irl characters?? it's just that i've been looking through your art and i feel like you ability to capture a character's idk essence, in vibes + appearence, are just unmatched! they're all so dynamic and like them i just <33

aaa thanks so much!! im glad to hear that since i honestly dont watch a ton of live action? i generally have done a lot more fanart for animated things so thats nice to hear haha anyways though!! i have far too many words that may or may not make sense to say so i'll put how i use references and figure out live action characters below

the main rule i like to keep in my head is that i am drawing the character, not the actor, if that makes sense?

this is all taking arthur as an example, to show what kinds of things i look for!! if i were talking about merlin any other live action character like. bobby briggs or something all the details would be super different haha a way i like to familiarize myself with a live action character at first is tracing which i must preface by saying TRACING ISNT BAD!! its a tool and it just needs to be used correctly. tracing is a great way to figure out a method to drawing things, so its really valuable in studying. im not gonna address using tracing in finished artwork rn bc thats where it gets a little dicey and i would talk about it too much.

i dont really need to do this for arthur anymore but it was a fun exercise lmao

sorry the images are so crunchy i always forget i work on small canvases, anyways in capturing a likeness i like to emphasize and exaggerate a little which features make the character most recognizable to me.

he's got a sharp nose which is bumped at the bridge and a little bit upturned at the bottom. when he's smiling his eyes crinkle a lot and his cheek muscle becomes more pronounced and connects into the corner of his mouth

very square jaw. his brows are thicker near the center and don't have much of an arch. his cheeks are hollowed with neutral expression and the muscles on the sides of his mouth (depressor anguli oris, if i remember correctly lol) are obvious when the corners of his mouth are downturned

the corners of his mouth fold in a lot when he bares his teeth if hes angry or agitated, its a different type of fold when hes relaxed or smiling

his masseter is rather pronounced when he's talking or agitated, and i usually connect the line of it to the line that goes down from the inner corner of his eye. i forget what the word for it is rn but its different from eyebags (though i do like to draw eyebags)

but none of these details work if whatever hes doing in the drawing isnt in character, yknow? like he could look like arthur but he wouldnt really feel like arthur if hes not acting like arthur. idk it s hard for me to put to words im sure u get what i mean enough

body shape and language are also super important to think about, these are some things i keep in mind with arthur - hes shredded but not like marvel movie dehydrated shredded (good for him) - hes very broad and his shoulders slope down because of his trapezius muscles - he takes up a lot of space! he hardly ever curls up or sits with his feet up in his chair. even when hes sleeping hes pretty sprawled out - his "closed off" body language is crossing his arms or raising his left hand to twist his index finger ring with his thumb (worried/thinking gesture) - he moves with a lot of purpose usually and isnt often clumsy (unlike merlin lmao) - he moves his shoulders a lot when he walks (see top left image)

honestly think body language is just as important as facial features if not more, for the purpose of creating personality and character

i probably sound like i think way too much about this stuff which i. i kind of do but not in so many words i dont need this many words when its all in my brain. but yeah thats how i figure out how to draw a live action character i guess? anyways this was kind of a mess haha

[lesbianspeedy]

Sorry if this is a bad question or more likely just hopeless. I’ve been trying to find a good Connor Hawke comic to read (first found out about him in Damian’s Robin solo and he and Rose were the only two things I liked besides the Robin chase but I’m a bat brat) and I’ve only read the Silver Monkey story and as I’m not a fan of Oliver Green at all (my exposure to him has in no way been positive) and I HATE Dixon and I know he’s the main writer for Connor, but I had to drop the Tim solo because of his obvious, I guess bigotry would be the right word to use here, but he is one of the three writers I refuse to let myself read anymore to try and keep my blood pressure low. Are there any Connor stories or series that exist outside of those parameters to read because I’m having 0 luck. I’m also not sure if you’re a fan of Mia or Emilio or have any go-to stories for them, but I know nothing about them and I’d like to change that if at all possible.

i understand, i do i do. while i think dixon is capable of good character writing, and he did manage to do it in connor's run, i also understand his very very obvious politics shine through all the time and it gets tiresome (at one point in his ga run he manages to write OLIVER QUEEN "both sides"ing literal nazis that he and hal fought in GL/GA). here's the best i can do for recs outside of dixon (though few and far between)

Before i start, i do wanna clarify that his character in robin is. well. pretty different from his actual pre-established character. I'm not saying you won't like him, and im genuinely begging you to give him a shot, but if youre looking for the snarky brawler type, you might be a lil thrown by the polite buddhist monk you're gonna get.

you are in luck, as his first few appearances were by kelley puckett, so if you havent already read GA vol. 2 #0, do that first! #91 and #92 are also by puckett until dixon takes over for #93, so read those if you dont mind just stopping in the middle of an arc, otherwise avoid.

now this next rec IS 1/3 written by dixon but if you can get through it, the crossover connor has with wally and kyle is enjoyable, thats Green Lantern Vol. 3 #96, GA Vol. 2 #130, and The Flash Vol. 2 #135

Connor's JLA run! JLA Vol. 1 #8-#15, #8 and #9 are specifically about connor saving and joining the league, the rest of the issues just feature him in a team setting, as, well, its the league.

if you want to read mia as well, read Green Arrow: Quiver (GA Vol. 3 #1-#10), Connor plays an important role but its almost entirely in the very last issue, and it's more about Ollie's role dynamic with him than anything else, so just read that if it tickles your fancy.

I wish i could recommend more of GA Vol. 3 for connor, unfortunately he's pretty fucking sidelined, and for every good moment theres 2 bad ones. (immediately after quiver he is shot and put in a coma for an arc, somehow this isnt the last time this happens.) Though i do recommend #11, and i think #21 is a good issue to read for ollie and him, but it also includes a pretty huge retcon to Connor and Ollie's past

Other than those, he has One-shots in Green Arrow 80th Anniversary 100-Page Super Spectacular: "One", DC Pride 2022: "Think Of Me", and DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration: "Hawke & Kong"

to answer your second question, my URL aint lesbianspeedy for nothin! Mia is what i breathe and bleed, my recs for her are here!

as for Emi, your best bets are Green Arrow Vol. 5 #18-#20, #22, #28-#34 for her origin (though read N52 green arrow at your own risk, even i havent properly read these), Green Arrow Vol. 6 #1-#7 (this may feel like a completely new character, i'm sorry, dc has a angsty characterisation problem, if you enjoy either of these characterisations, i'd recommend you keep reading said runs past my specific recs for more issues with her!) and Stargirl Spring Break Special + Stargirl: The Lost Children #1-#6

[teeth-cable]

Hi, I had some Vivzie verse questions about lore and word buldings. :

Isnt me or having hell without punishment is weird? I mean, why hells exist if there is no punishment? WHAT IS THE POINT. You can't even say : I didn't know what I could use as punishment, since there is a book about hell and what happens to the peolpe that go there. Okay maybe you don't want to copy, but just take inspiration...?

Why all the sinners in pride, if you have nine circles? It dosent make sense that a greedy ceo or a killer, are going to pride. Send them to their ring. If you send them to their ring you can also use imps as their torturers.

Why there are prisons if Vivzie said there is no law? Then we have are laws..?

About lore

How come demons like Stolas are born as babies? Weren't they sent away from heaven? And also why, a demonic creature, is the same age in Blitzo

Thank you for reading

No it isn't you, the world building for Helluva makes no sense for Hell. The main purpose of Hell and it's rings are now gone and at this point, it just doesn't make sense for the show to take place in Hell anymore because all of it's recognizable features are gone.

Why are ancient being in this world so young when they had to exist for a centuries to get their roles in demonology and occults establish? Again, Viv hell's is just a red Earth 2.0 and it doesn't work because it keeps breaking it's own lore.

[mcl38]

I personally think it’s not that nowadays Lando cares about Carlos less than Carlos does about him, I think it’s more about him getting fed up with repeated questions about his friendships with other drivers and with Carlos in particular, and actual journalists using these cringe words like ‘bromance’ and stuff, it’s annoying as fuck. He still answers that he gets along well mostly with Carlos and Max, so kudos to him for keeping it professional and not telling them to fuck off haha he’s literally asked about this all the time, like, everyone and their dog know by now who his friends are, journalists need to give it a rest already and ask him better questions

so like yeah, i do think its mostly that. lando hates few things more than people placing their own narratives on him, or thinking they know things abt his personal life that they dont. also, one of those few things (he hates even more) is cringe, or maybe in particular outdated-cringe - i genuinely think if someone mentions milk at him nowadays he might just curdle (ha) and die on the spot. so like. carlando and bromances in general hit BOTH of those spots. its as if theyre designed specifically to piss him off

but beyond that, i think uh. hm. how do i phrase this. i think fundamentally carlos and lando have slightly different attitudes towards competition, and also that.... i want u to bear w me on this one bc i say this w all my love for lando but i think carlos is just a bit more caring and sentimental as a person

what i mean abt the diff attitudes is hugely informed by this video i saw today (pretty sure @/vegasgrandprix linked to it so ill try to find it and insert it here!) where carlos said he'd maybe give a centimetre more leeway to fernando and lando when racing wheel to wheel. he goes on to say that that doesnt rly mean much and that hes touched with lando and fernando before so clearly it doesnt make a difference, but at the same time this is the first driver ive ever heard say this in any capacity. compare this with landos very straightforward 'once you're on track you don't think about those things anymore and all you want is to beat them' like. i genuinely dont think carlos features in landos thoughts at all when hes in the cockpit - which i wouldnt expect either! but apparently lando features in carlos's

i think u can rly see this when u compare what they both said abt singapore. lando, assuming carlos's racer brain works like his, says in all his interviews that carlos wouldve just done that for anyone and it doesnt make any difference that its them two. meanwhile, carlos fully explicitly says that he finds it more special bc he and lando were cooperating & managed to get a 1-2. that kind of clearly shows a difference in mindset beyond lando just not wanting to play the media game

abt what i meant saying carlos is a more caring person, in their relationship particularly - i just think hes always been rly attentive towards lando and has just like kinda kept doing it even after he moved teams. i rmbr watching their presser together a few months ago where carlos was being sooo delicate abt lando clearly being worse at golf bc he hadnt played in a while, & it rly reminded me of their dynamic back when they were teammates - while landos always found carlos funny and respected him as a racer, carlos was the one actively attentive to landos mood swings, self criticism, anxiety, etc. i think seeing lando at his (self-described) worst in terms of mental state has made carlos always harbour a sort of protectiveness towards him that lando cant and also isnt expected to reciprocate.

so like yeah i dont think landos lying when he says hes closest to max and carlos on the grid. he DOES get along w carlos and makes an effort to hang out w him when he can. i just think carlos has a slightly more open or emotional character, which reflects as a vague imbalance in their friendship

[heretic-saint-taliesin]

I don't know how hot of a take this is exactly but I think the whole "story is a retelling of x classic" premise is super tired and overdone and lowkey kinda uncreative.

I know that most fiction is derivative and that nothing is truly original anymore. There's nothing wrong with being inspired by things you've read either. But the deliberate "I am retelling x story word for word with one feature (usually gender) changed" is so boring to me. And tbqh it doesn't really achieve anything either.

Retellings of classical mythology with female focus tend to drastically misinterpret the myths in order to force their perspectives through. The retelling of Lord of the Flies with girls is so infantilising and weird about how girls would behave in a crisis (just no. If you swapped private school boys for private school girls it would be just as bloody. trust me) and now everyone's genderbending the musketeers?

Firstly someone's already published it within the last couple of years. Second of all what does swapping the genders actually add to things? Why not just write your own female musketeer story that isnt retelling the Dumas works word for word?

If you love the classics (and clearly you do!) then encourage folks to read the originals and enjoy them just as much as you did!

For clarification im not talking fanfic here. Fanfic can do the hell it likes. I mean physically published fiction.

Why not tell your own story?