#implied full reveal sort of?

[lecliss]

I'll never be able to take the theory that Vincent is Sephiroth's real father seriously cuz I cannot stress enough how important I think it is to the plot that Vincent wanted to fuck Lucrecia and did not get to.

[gojoest]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)

a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡

side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )

what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.

after all, it’s how he made you his as well.

“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.

“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.

“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”

“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”

“hey, hey. slow down there”

“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”

it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.

satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.

it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.

“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.

“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.

truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.

as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.

“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”

you raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”

wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.

“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.

“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.

“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”

you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…

“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”

by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.

“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.

“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.

“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.

“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.

“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.

you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.

“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”

“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.

“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.

“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.

“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”

“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.

“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.

“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.

“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.

“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”

“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.

“really?”

“really.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

“you promise not to go back on your word?”

“i promise.”

he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.

“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”

to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.

“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.

“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”

“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.

“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.

“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”

you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.

“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.

satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.

“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.

you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.

“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.

“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.

you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.

you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.

“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.

you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.

his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.

you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”

his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.

the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.

you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.

“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”

“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”

“yes”

“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”

“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”

“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.

“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”

“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”

“yea? am i not?”

“children”, he stresses.

“oh.”, it finally hits you.

“one more to go”

[eff-plays]

There's one convo with Astarion that's one of my favorites that I haven't seen mentioned or discussed yet happens (I assume) if you have high approval with him but play a good-aligned character. (This is at 60+ approval, start of Act 2.) It's probably because it's not a romantic cutscene so it doesn't get mentioned as much as the others (or because he's racist in it and some of y'all don't like to acknowledge that he has character flaws), but I think it's vital to his character and to explain his early relationship with a good-aligned Tav.

I would like to break it down a little, step by step. Because we are all cringe here.

First, he claims to feel a connection between Tav and himself, and the reason for this is because he believes he's identified "ambition" in Tav (and I'll explain why he's wrong later, but that's mostly headcanon territory, so we'll ignore it for now).

But, there's also clearly something holding Tav back from realizing their full potential, which is their naivete.

"Just that you ... have a big heart. You like doing what's right."

(The animations and voice acting here make him look and sound so fucking condescending, 10/10.)

However, Astarion doesn't tell them this is wrong, or that he disagrees. He implies it's a flaw, but doesn't state it outright. That's dangerous territory, see, and might predispose them to get defensive and reject what he has to say next.

No, he tries (and fails in my case, but it's cute that he tries, bless him) to manipulate Tav by appealing to that big heart of theirs.

"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing to do when we get to Moonrise Towers? When we come face-to-face with whoever is controlling the parasites in our heads."

"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil."

See what he's doing? You like doing what's right, so what would be the right thing to do? We can keep ourselves safe. Liberate the world from evil.

It's very blatant, but he's trying to appeal to Tav's good nature by framing his questionable ideas as something that will benefit the greater good, something that's morally righteous that they would agree with.

And of course, it's incredibly funny when you ask how he thinks you'll do that, and he fumbles and admits he's not a "details person," but it's also revealing.

He thinks he's found in Tav ambition, when all he's actually found is ability. Tav exercises power proficiently, while Astarion does not. If he had the authority they have, he'd let ambition drive his actions, which is why he assumes that's what drives Tav when they exercise their power. A good-aligned Tav has very little ambition, I'd argue, but they have plenty of opportunity to exercise their power, which they do when their hand is forced.

So what Astarion is saying is, in effect, hey, you have power, I have ambition. Will you please use your authority/ability to do what I want? Here's how it'll totally be for the greater good, I prommy.

This is brilliant writing, and I really applaud Larian for managing to walk that fine line of making Astarion so sympathetic while he's literally trying to manipulate the player character. Because when I first got this convo, my thought was both "wow, I adore how blatant and terrible his manipulation attempts are, it's kind of endearing" and "he's so terrified, it's genuinely quite tragic."

If we control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe. This works only somewhat as an appeal to good-aligned Tav, because it could also potentially sound very selfish, especially if Tav is the self-sacrificing sort. So notice how, when he says "liberate the world from evil", it sounds kinda tacked-on, an afterthought designed to bury his main goal, which is keep "ourselves" (i.e. himself) safe. Like, yes, this will keep us/me safe, but if you're not into that, then it'll totally help the world, too! It doesn't quite work, because he still sounds ironic and like he doesn't believe they'd be liberating anything from any evil (work that 10 Charisma, boy), but that's the intent, I think.

Does he want power for power's sake? Yes. Is he gleefully powerhungry? Absolutely. But he's also fucking terrified, and that slips through just a little bit, even behind the smug and confident facade.

He's trying to get Tav, whom he's seen exercise their power over others, to lend some of it to him, so that he may never fear anything ever again.

All of this from a short, smug convo where he admits he's too stupid to figure out how to fulfill his dreams of world domination.

God tier characterization, 10/10.

[satorusugurugurl]

would you able to do smth that’s pure full angst??? like angst that doesn’t lead up to smut, love your work btw!!

Choose

Summary: Gojo is forced the choose between his two best friends, Geto or you.

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru AFAB!Reader (slightly implied??)

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, violence, torture, blood, physical abuse, pain, character death

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: y’all wanted angst, I deliver 🙂‍↕️ enjoy your meal! Thanks @sugurubabe for your help!

The room was musky, thick was the humidity that had sweat heading against your forehead as you lay on the floor wheezing painfully before another blow hit your stomach hand. You curl into a fetal position, crying out in excruciating pain as boots crunched against broken glass that littered the floor. This wasn't how the mission was supposed to go; it was supposed to be easy!

A curse, a grade-two curse! Something both you and Suguru should have been able to handle! But it seemed as though there was no curse, none whatsoever.

What you and Suguru found waiting for you was a curse user and an assistant supervisor who had betrayed you all. Everything had happened so fast. The woman led you down a hall, revealing this supposed curse. You were in front of Suguru, listening to details and trying to sense the nonexistent cursed energy when a heavy thud sounded from behind you.

Nothing could have prepared you to see Geto on the ground out cold. The sight left you frozen in shock as your eyes darted back to the assistant supervisor holding a plank of wood stained with a bit of blood. You tried to act fast, reaching into your uniform to throw a talisman paper at the traitor, but the world went black for you. Someone hit you from behind.

When you came to, Suguru was still out, and the hats when the curse user began his shitty interrogation. He asked over and over again where Gojo was, and every time, you had a smart-ass remark. Which ended up with you getting the shit kicked out of you.

“I’ll ask you again.” The curse user barked out, crouching down next to your face. “Where is Gojo Satoru?”

Holding onto your stomach, you smirked, slowly lifting your head to look at your captor. “Your mom’s house.” Instead of a kick, the bastard backhanded you, making you wince before you cupped the side of your face, trying to hide the pain that you felt throbbing in your cheek.

“I don't like wasting time, and I don't like little liars.”

“Yeah, and I don't like assholes who beat up a couple of teenagers!” You yelled back, ignoring the iron taste that flooded your mouth.

“This is going nowhere; I thought you said the three were inseparable.”

That was true; Before the three of you were sort of a thing, going on dates, making out, sleeping together in the same bed. And that’s how it had been true until last year after the Star Plasma Vessel was killed. Ever since that fateful day, things have changed between you, mostly Gojo, but you could tell Geto was also starting to pull away too. He wasn't sleeping well, refusing to come to your room, go on dates, and you were both getting sent on more solo missions. You were honestly surprised you and Geto had been assigned this mission together, but even the two of them were slipping apart it seemed.

You’d been excited, looking forward to working together with one of your boyfriends? (Maybe you guys weren’t official yet), and had been planning to go on a soba noodles date afterward. Things were supposed to have gone differently today. What you imagined as a pleasant time with one of your best friends had turned into a literal nightmare.

You shot a glance in Geto’s direction. He was still out cold, but from the movement behind his eyes, you were hoping he was going to come soon enough. If you worked together, you might get out of this without further injuries. Until then, you just needed to continue to buy some time, and you could accomplish that by being extra annoying. You did learn from Gojo firsthand.

“T-They are—I thought they’d be assigned this together.”

“Well, he ain't here, is he?!”

“Yeah, sorry,” you spit your blood-laced saliva on the ground, “the band split up!”

“Oh did it?” The curse user asked, cocking a brow down at you.

“Yep! So I wouldn't count on him showing up anytime soon.”

That should have been enough to deter them from following through with whatever plan they had. But your words made your captor smirk. He said nothing as he reached into his pocket, tossing your phone to the traitor, before he moved fast, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking you to your feet.

“Why don't we get the band back together then?” You tried out in pain as he slammed you back down against the floor, lifting your head an inch as he crouched behind you. “Take a picture of her and Geto, and send it to Gojo along with the address.”

The flash was both blinding and suffocating as you struggled to free yourself. This wasn't good; you knew if Gojo were to see it, he'd come running. You were his best friends, and even thought he's been busy with training and all the missions he had been sent on, you knew he still cared for the two of you. And when he showed up, he would fall right into the hands of these monsters who were worse than the curses you constantly took out.

With the second flash that flooded the abandoned hospital room that was only illuminated by the light of twilight, you felt panic swell in your chest. You thrashed and screamed against the man still holding you down on the ground, watching in horror as they texted Satoru from your phone. This wasn't happening; it wasn't real; this was a terrible nightmare that was going to end soon, right?!

“There, done.”

“No!” You screamed, kicking your legs out underneath you. “No! You bastards!” Tears welled in your eyes as you focused on Suguru, grimacing near you. “Suguru! Suguru, wake up!”

“You’re too loud!” The curse-user shouted, kicking you in the stomach a second time, followed by a third, before he kicked you in the ribs.

The impact of that fourth hit had you dry-heaving and sobbing from the pain. You collapsed on the ground, vision blurring for a minute before a crashing sound from down below caught your attention. You wheezed painfully, trying to pull yourself up. You had to tell Satoru to run, that it was a trap, but you couldn't speak. Every breath you took was like stabbing to your stomach, to your lungs; everything hurt.

“Suguru?! Sweetheart?!” Satoru yelled, bounding up the stairs towards you. While you might not be able to speak, you used all of your strength to crawl, inching towards the doorway. Maybe your actions would prevent him from stepping closer. “Where are they, you bastard?”

“T-Tor—Toru—” you gasp out, crawling closer to the door to have the assistant supervisor kick you in the stomach this time. “Agghh!!” You screamed out, and you could hear the footsteps running closer to the door.

You didn’t want him to come inside, to be the reason he fell for a trap. But your prayers and wishes didn’t come true. The door flew open, and your best friend stood in the doorway, his blue eyes taking in the scene in front of him. He met Suguru first, watching as his best friend blinked a few times as he started to regain some form of consciousness. Then, pretty cerulean eyes found you. You could see the rage burning within the irises.

“Ah, the infamous Gojo Satoru, finally we meet.” The curse user unsheathed a katana from his side, licking his lips. “. you sure do know how to piss off a lot of people. And a lot of these people want to hurt you in so many ways. I was hired to deal with that pain for them.” The Curse user said in a condescending tone. “They want you to suffer, and they want to hurt bad. So prepare yourself; it’s not going to be pretty.”

“S-Satoru—run,” you whined, trying to lift yourself.

Your friend threw his head back and laughed out loud. “I don't no dumb ass hired you to ‘hurt’ me, but I’ve been living under a rock for the last year. I’m stronger than I was before, and nobody will kill me. So my friends go, and I’ll deal with you.” You couldn’t help but grin even though the pain was excruciating; leave it to Satoru to have a snarky comeback.

“Oooh, I’m sorry, there seems to be a misunderstanding.” You blinked, watching as the traitor bitch dragged Suguru towards you, throwing him down next to you, leaving him groaning as he blinked hard, trying to come to his senses. “I didn’t say I was going to kill you. I said I would hurt you, and unlike my clients, I have to know you are untouchable. So if I’m not able to hurt you physically, I decided hurting you emotionally would be much better.”

“Huh?”

The katana slammed against the floor right between you and Suguru’s heads. “Choose.” The curse user said in a deep voice, leaving your eyes wide as you stared at your reflection in the blade.

Satoru froze up, eyes focusing on you and Suguru on the ground. “What?”

“Pick one, him or her.” You swallowed as Suguru's eyes widened in shock.

“I ain't picking one over the other!” Satoru snarled out, looking back at your captor, who was smirking.

“You aren’t going to pick?”

“Fuck no!”

The curse user hummed, twirling the katana around in a circle. The dying light menacingly reflected off the blade. You swallowed harder, looking into Suguru’s eyes as the katana twirled faster. This whole situation, everything about it, left you feeling sick to your stomach.

“Then I guess we’ll choose for you!” The curse user announced, picking the katana up out of the ground.

“You—”

“Nuh-uh!” The katana slanted into the ground, an inch away from your face, making you cry out and fear. “Come near us, use one of your special moves, and I’ll slice both their heads off right here. You might be the strongest, but I can assure you that I’m the fastest.”

Your stomach twisted in pain and fear as your breath fogged against the blade. This really couldn’t be happening right now. You choked on a sob, as the katana lifted out of the ground, allowing you to stare into Suguru's eyes. He swallowed, exhaling through his nose as he inched closer towards you. That subtle action to let you know that everything was going to be okay, that he was there by your side, only caused more tears to stream down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay,” Suguru whispered, his eyes darting towards Saroru, who was clenching and unclenching his fist in apparent concentration, his eyes roaming between the curse user, the traitor, and his two best friends. “Satoru will figure this out; we’ll be okay.”

“Shut the fuck up!” the katana slammed down again, cutting strands of Suguru’s bangs. “I don’t like repeating myself, Gojo. And I believe I ask you a question. Choose. Someone has to die today.”

Dark eyes glittered with amusement as Suguru looked up at the curse user. “You obviously don’t know my friend, he would nev—”

“Suguru.” Satoru blurted out. You slowly turned your head to look at the tufts of white hair that dropped as he clenched his fists harder.

“Satoru.” Suguru purred out, smiling. “What I can—”

“I choose to save Geto Suguru.”

Your stomach twisted in pain as you felt tears welling in your eyes as the curse user barked out a laugh, moving the katana so fast you didn't see it slicing Suguru’s bindings. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Did he re—really just pick Geto? Was he choosing to let you die?

You meant nothing to him?

Your stomach churned with nausea as the room started spinning. You felt like you couldn't breathe as Satoru refused to look at you. He did, and he picked Suguru over you.

Tears blurred your vision as you listened to Suguru cursing as he was quickly unbound. “Wow,” the man towering above you breathed out. It looks like you see where you stand.” Anger and betrayal hit you as you whirled to glare.

“Fuck you—nngh!” he kicks you in the stomach for a fifth time. And the impact made you see dark spots.

“You heard the man; it’s time to die.” he kicked you again, rolling you onto your back, where it was hard to breathe. “I hope you're watching Gojo Satoru; watch the hope and trust she had for you fade along with her life!”

The katana rose up, and you shut your eyes, waiting for the pain to hit. Instead of your cries of pain, the man above you screamed. When you forced your eyes to open, you watched as one of Geto's curses shot out, swallowing the man’s upper half in one bite, before swallowing the rest of him in another. Weakly you turned your head as the traitorous bitch was wrapped up in one of Suguru’s other curses.

Your beaten and bloodied best friend was panting as Satoru stared at him in shock. As if he couldn't believe he had stepped in. But his shock quickly dissolved into realization as his head turned towards you, and he moved, running towards you.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, reaching to lift you up. But as his hands inched towards you, you pulled away from him, tears running down your cheeks. “Sweetheart?”

“Don't touch me.” you wheezed, vision blurring as your stomach twisted in pain. “Don't you ever fucking touch me again, you son of a bitch.”

“Sweetie, I—”

“Don’t touch me!”

Satoru pulled his hand away as if your words badly burned him. “I-I—” You laughed out bitterly, turning your head, and it was a look Gojo would never forget.

Your eyes were dull, blurred with tears, but he could see the betrayal and hatred swirling within them even with their dull hue. You wheezed deeply, blood seeping out of the corner of your mouth as Geto rushed towards you on the phone, calling Yaga. But nothing mattered nothing but you right then and there.

“Sweetheart, I-I wouldn't have let them hurt you. I promise!”

“You chose Geto.” you spat out, a droplet of blood jotting Gojo’s infinity as you curled in on yourself. “You chose to keep him alive and let me die.”

“I wouldn't have let them!”

“Bullshit!”

The pain in your face was like a million needles to Gojo’s heart as Geto told Yaga about what had happened. “That’s enough right now, you two! Satoru, Yaga wants you to take her back to campus so Shoko can help.” Gojo could see the shame in Geto’s eyes as he hung up the phone. “Princess, Gojo’s going to teleport you to the school.”

“No,” you whispered with a shake of your head.

“Come on! I won't hurt you; let me help you!”

“Don't you fucking touch me! I'd rather die than let you touch me. And you shouldn't have an issue with that, seeing that you picked me to die.”

Satoru gritted his teeth with anger but backed off, giving Suguru a shrug as the other man sighed. “Whatever.” With a sigh of annoyance, Sugiri picked you up princess-style and started running out of the room, heading down the stairs to get you in the car while Satoru followed behind, staring at the ground in shock and disbelief.

He knew you were mad; anyone would have been angry. But he panicked; he had to make a choice; otherwise, he would have lost you both, and that was something he was never going to let happen. Maybe he yelled out Suguru’s name because he was closer to him. Or perhaps it was just out of reflex, but he meant it when he said he would save both of you. There would be no way he would let anything happen to you. Both of you were his best friends.

You were just angry now; it would take some time, and he would explain that to you when you calmed down. All you needed was a little bit of time and space. What was the saying? Time heals all wounds?

Yeah, that was it. He just needed to give you some time to process what happened and allow your wounds to heal.

“Huh?” Gojo asked as he stood in the morgue, staring at Shoko.

“I said there wasn't much we could do.”

His eyes trailed down to the body that lay on the metal slab between him and Shoko. Your face was lax, your eyes shut, and bruises were discoloring your pretty face. This was a joke; it was all a fucked up joke for what he had said, right? You were going to sit up and say ‘jokes on you’ or ‘I got you bitch’ right? But your skin was too ashen, your pulse wasn't racing in your throat, and he couldn't sense your cursed energy with his Six-Eyes.

You were gone.

“B-But I don't understand. W-What happened, she was—she was fine.”

“On the outside, maybe.” Shoko lit a cigarette, holding it between her teeth as she moved some of your hair from your face. “But she took several kicks to the stomach, it looked like, and the sheer force formed an abdominal hematoma that ruptured with that last kick. If she got here a bit sooner, then maybe, just maybe, we could have saved her.” Shoko frowned, pulling the white sheet back up to cover your face. “But there wasn't anything we could do.”

Satoru's hands started shaking as he smelt earthy musk and mint approaching his side. He swallowed hard, turning to find Suguru staring down at your body, an almost unreadable expression on his face. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this? One where they both lost their best friend?

“She stayed true to her word,” Suguru whispered as he turned, his white button-down shirt tucked into his pants, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “I’m going on a mission to the countryside and won't return for a while.”

Satoru turned, glaring as Suguru opened the door to the hall. “What the hell do you mean she stayed true to her word?!” Suguru paused before looking back at Gojo with dull, lifeless eyes that almost mirrored yours the last time you had looked at him. It was so eerily similar that Gojo took a step back.

“She would have rather died than have you touch her.” His eyes focused on your body before he met Satoru's teary eyes. “And she did just that, all because of your choice.”

With that, the door slammed shut, leaving Gojo standing in the morgue with the body of one of his best friends while his other went off on a mission alone. A mission that would lead to him massacring an entire village. Little did Gojo know his choice would cost him the lives of both his best friends.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[deathbyday]

-'⁠🫧*⁠.⁠✧ MOUTHWASHING ✧.⁠*⁠🫧'⁠ -

P2

“How could we end up here…?”

Daisuke x implied F!Reader

f/c - favorite color

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Written By: DeathByDay

(Also written on Mobile)

————

A FEW WEEKS LATER

You’ve made conversations and friends along the way, which you were surprised by. Anya is hard to read along with Swansea, but she’s more distant than anyone you’ve ever met. Somehow, you two make a good duo nonetheless.

Swansea honestly didn’t like you all that much, but it was obvious he didn’t despise you either. You two normally hung out when it was break time or whenever he wasn’t busy. Usually, Daisuke hung around you two as well.

One reason is because he’s literally Swansea’s intern, and the other reason is because you suspect he might have a teeny tiny little crush on you. It’s probably nothing, though. Other than the fact he always asks hows your day going and makes sure you’re doing well. But that’s what friends do, right?

You laid silently in your bed, the thin blanket covering your body being your only source of warmth. You haven’t been able to fall asleep early, which has been causing you to wake up at 6:35am almost everyday, meaning you had to hear Jimmy complain about you not being awake on time at 6 in the goddamn morning.

You know he’s just trying to look out for you, but not even the captain cares about it that much. Yes, he has mentioned you waking up ‘late’ once or twice, but never full on lectured you about it like Jimmy has.

You groan, sitting up along the headboard. At this point, you’re desperate for a device of some sort. Like a phone or an iPad. You want to get sucked into some video game that’ll make the time pass by so much faster then it is right now. Suddenly, you perk up, realizing Daisuke may have a Gameboy that he brung with him.

You turn your head to the digital clock that sat right beside your bed, the numbers reading 10:36pm. You and the other crew mates weren’t allowed to be out of the sleeping quarters after 9:30, but nobody cares for that rule. Along side that, you knew you wouldn’t be able to rest anytime soon, so what’s the point of just sitting around?

You decide to sneak around the Tulpar and ask Daisuke if you could borrow his Gameboy for the night before returning to your own room. That way nobody would know you were walking around. Then when you see him in the morning, you’ll return the device. It’ll be like nothing even happened!

You set your plan into motion, standing up and heading towards the door. You made sure you don’t like you’re as exhausted as you actually are by covering yourself up with a f/c sweatshirt and pulling the hood over your head, which protected yourself from the cold and kept your eye bags out of sight. You walked outside your room, keeping your steps light.

You passed by Anya’s room, holding your breath as you did so. But you almost let out a gasp as you heard a voice coming from her room that wasn’t hers. You recognized that voice almost immediately. It was Jimmy’s.

You hurried towards Daisuke’s room, a bit too scared to press your ear to the door and listen to what they’re talking about. You ignore the sick feeling in your stomach to turn back, not knowing if it was as serious as what you were thinking. You made a mental note to ask Anya about it soon.

You finally came across Daisuke’s door and gently knocked three times, hoping that he was still awake. Luckily enough, he was. You heard his footsteps get louder before the door opens, revealing the guy you’ve been looking for. You tiredly smile up at him, seeing his confused expression.

“Oh, Y/N! What’s up?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper. He stared down at you, waiting for your response. You played with your fingers, suddenly becoming too anxious to ask about his Gameboy. You swallowed the saliva that traveled to the front of your throat, rethinking your actions.

“Daisuke.. you have a Gameboy, right?” You asked, glancing up at him. He nods, possibly figuring out what you were about to ask. “This is kind of a bad time but.. I’m playing on it right now. Do you wanna wait for it? Or would you like to watch me?” Both of your eyes seem to light up at the thought of the two of you giggling like little kids, watching him play on his device.

“I’ll watch you!” You don’t seem as anxious anymore and it’s showing. He widens his door, allowing you to walk in. He shuts it, watching you with a soft gaze as you glance around his room. Like Anya’s, it wasn’t too neat but it wasn’t dirty either. You ultimately assume everyone else’s room is the same.

Just a few minutes later, you found yourself curled up beside the brunette, your hands gripping his clothed arm, the two of you watching him play Tetris. You were surprised at how good he is, knowing you’ve never gotten past your 14,051 highscore. You yawned, breaking the comforting silence between you two.

You subconsciously snuggled closer, feeling your eyelids get heavier each time you shut them. Daisuke chuckles, pausing the game before patting your head playfully. “You getting tired already?” He teases, setting his device down. You grumble, rolling your eyes as you look up at him. “Yeah, yeah.. at least I’m not going to sleep so late.” You retort, sniffling before lying your head on his shoulder.

“Do you think we would get in trouble if I stay here for the night? I mean, I heard Jimmy’s voice in Anya’s room, so it should be fine, right?” You ask, looking up at him with exhaustion. You could honestly pass out any second if you stayed in this position.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about that. Just get some sleep.” He would be lying if he didn’t say his face was flustered by how close you were to him. You immediately obey, wrapping your arms around his waist, your head laying on the side of his chest. You shut your eyes, ignoring how your heart is beating faster.

Daisuke’s right arm wrapped around your figure, his head lying on his pillow. He shuts his eyes, feeling the exhaustion finally catch up to him. The mixture of his soft snores and your breathing comforted the two of you in a way that couldn’t be explained.

You just couldn’t believe you were sleeping in the arms of a friend. But.. could you even call him that now..?

————

Getting in trouble for being in the same bed as your best friend was expected, but you didn’t expect his boss to be the one finding you two. The sad thing is, Swansea didn’t even knock. He just barged in and saw the two of you asleep, arms wrapped around each other and assumed the worst.

Both of you got lectured on how sleeping together was inappropriate. But then, Swansea leaned over the desk and whispered something that surprised you.

“Hey, now I’m not one to judge about that sort of stuff. And honestly, I couldn’t care less what you guys do. As long as you two keep it quiet while I’m trying to sleep, then by all means, go ahead.” He reassured.

You both stared at him in disbelief, not knowing that those were the words that would ever come out of that man’s mouth. You shook your head, brows furrowed upwards. Daisuke’s eyes were wide, cheeks flustered in embarrassment.

“T-..I’m sorry?” You tilted your head, wondering if you even heard him correctly. He shrugged it off as quick as he brought it up, letting you two deal with the new found information. You turned your head towards the blushing male, giving him a soft smile, trying to ease the tension in the room.

“Well, that was something!” You giggle, forcing the embarrassment down your throat. Daisuke nods, his face still beet red. You would tease him, but you know your face is the same color. Swansea motioned for the two of you to get out, and you both quickly did so.

You avoided eye contact with Daisuke as he did the same with you, clearly too scared to bring what just happened up. You both just stand there, not saying anything for a few moments. That was until you finally sighed and became brave enough to speak.

“Daisuke, I-I’m really sorry.. I should’ve never even thought of coming by your room.” You attempt to take blame, the redness in your cheeks calming down as you stared at the ground in shame. After all, it was your fault Swansea found out about the two of you sleeping together. You’re just glad he promised you he wouldn’t tell anyone, especially the captain.

He immediately turned his head towards you, eyes wide as he let what you said sink in. You taking the blame for something that was ultimately his fault? No way! “Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong!” He shook his head, his face finally turning back to its original color.

“I was the one who let you in my room in the first place. I should’ve been thinking more clearly. Don’t take blame for something that was my fault.” He stated, his expression calm as he spoke. He presses the palm of his hand on your shoulder in attempt to comfort you. You glance up at him, a smile glazing your lips.

“Are you sure? You know I’ll take responsibility if Swansea ever slips up and says something, right?” You question, not wanting him to regret his choice later on. Daisuke gives you a confident nod, making you playfully sigh in defeat.

You giggle, placing your hand on top of his own that laid on your shoulder. You unconsciously step closer to him before wrapping your arms around him, pulling the male into a tight hug.

It took him a few seconds to process what was happening, but he slowly hugged you back, his chin on top of your head. You both stayed there, comforted by the silence that surrounded you two.

“I guess I can’t change your mind, huh?” Your voice was muffled due to your face being buried into his collar. You felt his body shake lightly, a chuckle escaping his throat. “No, you really can’t.” He confirmed, tightening his hold on you. It was like he was trying to protect you from something.

————

You watched from afar as Jimmy, Swansea, Daisuke, and Anya played the famous board game, Sorry!. You sat alone on the rock hard chair, sitting at the lounge table in the middle of the room. You wanted to get closer, yes, but you were still hesitant of being near Jimmy.

He just seems off to you. In a bad way this time. You shake it off, thinking you were just overreacting over a little thing. Maybe he wasn’t a bad guy at all and you were making up scenarios. But, it’s always better to be safe then-

“Sorry!” Swansea’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you jump as he shouts. He weakly chuckles as Daisuke groans, grabbing his game piece and placing it in another spot.

You light heartedly smile, pushing away the unsettling feelings of Jimmy and focusing on the positive. You really don’t have anything to worry about besides the job, of course. But that was easy. All you had to do was take notes and give reports on what’s happening to whoever would listen.

You drown out the groups laughter and get up from your seat, slipping out of the room unknowingly. The last thing you would want to do is draw attention to yourself. You walked through the skinny halls, wondering what hard material they were made out of. Iron? Possibly. Definitely not wood, though..

You suddenly bump into someone’s chest, causing you to look up at them and immediately apologize. You knew who you bumped into. Captain Curly. You weren’t that dumb. He chuckles deeply before waving you off like a little kid. “It’s alright, nothing to apologize for.” He reassured you, patting your head gently.

You stepped around him, watching over your shoulder as you continued walking to see if he would look back at you or not. He didn’t. All he did was continue along the path you came from like nothing happened. You released a sigh that you didn’t know you were holding.

You just know if you bumped into Jimmy, he would lecture you until midnight. No wonder Captain Curly’s the captain. You would probably end up going crazy if Jimmy wasn’t the second in command, but instead taking his friends position. Just thinking about it sends chills down your spine.

You continued walking until you got to the sleeping quarters. Going into your room, you shut the door behind you and looking at the digital clock. 7:28pm. You realize you should report back to the lounge area, knowing dinner is about to be served. That’s probably where Captain Curly was heading before you bumped into him.

You felt your face heating up, remembering the awkward situation you just had a few minutes ago. You take deep breaths before looking in the mirror beside your door, checking to see if you could see any redness. Luckily enough, you couldn’t.

You flattened down your suit, making sure you couldn’t tell there were any wrinkles before smoothing it down. You took a deep breath in then exhaled, opening your door and finally walking back to where you came from. You weren’t that excited about dinner being served, though. It was usually always the same meal every time, which was soup.

You didn’t know what the ingredients were to making it, and you’d rather not know. It looked like it was made from sewer water. Some days the liquid tasted better than the day before, other days it tasted worse. It was a 50/50 chance.

A few minutes later, you found yourself walking through the door. The quad was finishing up their game. You could tell who was about to win and who wasn’t just by looking at their faces. You turn your head to see Captain Curly laying the bowls down, placing plastic spoons beside them.

You walked up to him, grabbing napkins for the crew. As you did so, you attempted to make small talk. “So, Captain, are you gonna join us for dinner?” You glanced in his direction, setting the cloths down next to the bowls and spoons laid down.

Captain Curly nods before placing the last bowl and spoon down, turning to you. “Yeah, I will be. But not for long, I gotta get back to make sure we aren’t hitting any asteroids.” You hum in realization, forgetting all about that asteroid stuff.

Just last week you all almost crashed the Tulpar into an asteroid. Luckily Captain Curly managed to steer the ship away before you all got smashed. Hopefully that would never happen again. It’s very unlikely that it would, anyway.

“That’s understandable. At least you can be here with us for a little bit!” You tried to make light of the situation, wanting to forget your almost deathly experience.

The quad finished up their game, Daisuke pumping his fists into the air. Swansea and Jimmy had stern looks on their faces, upset by the loss. But Anya looked like she wanted to strangle Daisuke to death. You all sat down, Captain Curly grabbing the pot of soup for you all.

Sitting beside you sat Anya. Jimmy sat on one side of the table, the captain about to sit down at the other. Daisuke sat across from you, Swansea beside him. Your brows creasing as you turned your head towards Anya, who shot daggers in Daisuke’s direction. You place the palm of your hand on her shoulder in attempt to comfort her.

“Intense game?” You ask, glancing towards each of the three brunette males. Jimmy and Swansea nodded while Daisuke gave you a thumbs up, a dorky grin plastered across his lips. It was obvious he was happy he won.

“Time to eat!” Captain Curly announced, setting the pot of soup down in the middle of the table. Everyone took turns scooping the liquid into their bowls, being patient for once. Once everyone finished, you hesitated before dipping your spoon into your own bowl and bringing it to your mouth.

“Thank you, Captain Curly.” Mutters from everyone came after one another before continuing to sip the soup. It didn’t take long for everyone to start to finish their dish, seeing as it was only a liquid to be drank.

As everybody continued finishing up, the captain excused himself to go back and hide in his quarters for the night. He bid you all goodbye before walking out of the room, the automatic doors shutting behind him. Jimmy was the second to go. Then it was Swansea and Daisuke, who ended up finishing at the same time. Lastly, it was just you and Anya.

You decided it was a good time to ask about what you heard last night in her room. You haven’t brung it up to anyone else besides Daisuke, not knowing if she would even want you to mention it or not. So, you didn’t.

“Hey, Anya?” You tilt turn your head her way, a curious expression glazing over your face. She glances at your direction, waiting to see what you had to say. “I, uh.. I heard a man’s voice in your room last night. I think it was Jimmy’s. What’s up with you two?” As soon as that question left your lips, her eyes went wide and her face turned pale.

You immediately perk up, not knowing that it would be such a sensitive topic to her. “Oh! I’m sorry, forget I said anything. I didn’t mean to upset you..” You attempt to reassure her, knowing the damage was already done. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll keep my mouth shut.” You knew you were lying. You literally told Daisuke last night. Of course she didn’t need to know that, though.

She swallowed hard, shaking her head as to tell you it’s alright. “N-No, you don’t need to be sorry. It’s just..” She hesitates, realizing she would just put more weight onto your shoulders if she told you what’s wrong.

“Never mind, you don’t need to worry about me. Him and I are just very close, that’s all.” Anya doesn’t give you a very convincing smile as she speaks, but you knew better than to push her.

You nod along, deciding to leave it up to her if she wants to tell you the truth or not. You knew deep down she was lying, but you don’t see a reason to force the real answer out of her. “You know I’ll always be here for you, right? Even though you’re our nurse and you know about all that depressive stuff, I still wanna make sure you’re okay.”

As you mumble, you leaned over and gave the woman a gentle hug, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. She stayed silent, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She quickly hugged you back, hiding her face in your neck. It doesn’t take a genius to realize she was crying. You stand up, whispering praises into her ears before shushing her.

“It’s okay, shh.. I’m here. You’re safe with me.” You rock her side to side, placing one hand on her head and gently playing with her dark hair. A few moments later she calmed down, her tears drying up on your suit. She continued to hug you, not wanting to let go.

“Jim’s just an asshole. I’m not sure what he’s done to you, but it clearly messed you up.” You state the obvious, curling your fingers in her hair. Anya sniffles, nodding her head in the crook of your neck as a response. “Do you wanna go to bed? I could walk you to your room if you want.” You release her from the hug, your hands gripping her clothed biceps as you stare into her eyes.

“Yeah. T-That would be nice.” She agrees, covering her face with her hands, wiping away the tears from her eyes. You nod, letting go of her arms and guiding one of her hands off her face to hold it. You help her stand, making sure she could stable herself before starting to walk towards the sleeping quarters.

Before you two left, you glanced up at the clock on the wall. 8:34. You let out a sigh, thankful that it hasn’t passed 9 yet. You grip Anya’s hand, your thumb gliding across her knuckles. Before you knew it, you both stood in front of her bedroom door. You turned back, letting her hand go. “I’ll get going now, ya? Sleep well, Anya.”

You grin, giving her one last tight hug before finally walking away. You heard the door open and close, letting you silently know she was safe in the comfort of her room. You didn’t know if Jimmy would go to her room ever again, but you’re praying that he wouldn’t.

You walk down the hall and head towards Daisuke’s room. As long as you don’t get caught by Jimmy, you doubt anyone else would care if you were in there. In all honesty, you missed his arms around you all day. Hopefully you both could end up in that same position tonight.

Or maybe he would be in your arms. Who knows?

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author’s note

MY POOR BABY ANYA😭😭 I had to add at least one moment of reader comforting her, I couldn’t resist. on a completely different note, I’m proud of myself for the ‘take responsibility’ line. even though it wasn’t creative, just let me be happy💔

next chapter will be out in a few days!! hope ya had fun reading! bye for now!! <33

[sparrowlucero]

ik you were joking but I would be genuinely interested to hear about the flux cowriting credits strife if you feel like going into detail on it

So I have a big conspiracy theory about season 13 of Doctor Who ("Flux"), namely that there's a lost episode was scripted and even possibly filmed in near entirety, but ended up being cut and cannibalized in post production due to behind the scenes issues, and the fandom has yet to pick up on it.

For anyone who doesn't watch the show: Flux is a miniseries of Doctor Who; a full season was not commissioned because it was produced during Covid. The most important stuff about it for the purposes of this post are:

It's 6 episodes long (¹). The episodes are all directly continuous and could not be shuffled around. (I should clarify here that, no, the showrunner can't simply choose on a whim to make 10 episodes, or only make 4; they had to stick to 6, as that was the amount they were picked up and scheduled for)

The showrunner, Chris Chibnall , wrote every episode apart from episode 4 (Village of the Angels) which he has a co-writing credit on.

(More subjectively but perhaps relevant) The season is largely considered to be kind of a structural mess and (less subjectively) there appears to some abnormal and consistent production issues (²)

So the first thing I need to evidence here is that Chris Chibnall, aforementioned showrunner and writer of the entire season, was late. Like, really late.

Word of mouth gossip had been circulating for a while that there was some sort of on-set problem involving filming having to be paused because he was still finishing scripts: (³)

This would later be confirmed at a Gallifrey One panel (⁴) with Matt Strevens, the executive producer, who suggests that filming stopped to allow Chris Chibnall to finish scripts; he further implies that large swathes of episode 5/Block 2 weren't written until Episode 4/Block 1 (in which Kevin McNally debuts) was filming:

So with that context, let's talk about that Episode 4, "Village of the Angels", the only episode not attributed solely to Chris Chibnall. Co written by Maxine Alderton.

The filming pics reveal an interesting bit of trivia for Village: namely, the clapperboards show that the story was actually filmed as episode 5, not 4:

As the above tweet suggests, this doesn't make much sense. The miniseries is, again, a single continuous plot. It's not like they flipped Village and the current episode 5, Survivors of the Flux; the latter explicitly takes place chronologically after it. And yet, Village having been intended as the penultimate episode 5 is further evidenced by the original trailer for it, in which a character states that the story takes place on the 28th of November. This line is dubbed over in the final episode and subsequent trailers to instead say the 21st:

Why is this line important enough to dub? Because that's meant to line up with the air date of the episode. Episode 4 aired on the 21st and 5 on the 28th. But something happened in post production, and now it's episode 4 on the 21st instead (⁵):

So if none of these episodes were moved around but it does seem like Village was meant to be episode 5, where and what is the original episode 4?

I have a theory.

Flux has a recurring subplot involving two side characters, a married couple (Bel and Vinder) who have been separated by the titular disaster and are traveling the universe to reunite with each other. This story is told through segments sprinkled throughout the episodes. These have a different writing style (including a diary-esque narration only present in these scenes) and an internally consistent visual style that looks somewhat different to the other parts of the season.

Village of the Angels, for instance, is a moody, dark episode set in a village in the 1960s:

However, Bel and Vinder's segments in the episode have a somewhat different look:

On top of this, they never intersect with the episode's A plot (literally or in any clear thematic way), and the majority of these segments piece together into one single scene that seems to have been cut up.

So, what I think is that the bel and vinder scenes across the middle of the season were originally a single full story, an episode 4 that took a breather from the main plot and characters to follow the lives of these two side characters; the differing visual and writing style is due to it originally having been filmed separately and with a somewhat different artistic intent. I believe Chris Chibnall's cowriting credit on Angels exists because these specific scenes are from a script he wrote, but that otherwise the Angel script can be credited solely to Maxine Alderton by normal cowriting standards.

"But wait," you might say, "I thought there were already 6 episodes that are all plot relevant? If no episodes existing right now can be cut, how could this 7th episode exist?"

Remember this tidbit:

The adventures in question comprise a large amount of the next episode (Episode 5: Survivors of the Flux), nearly 20 minutes of a 50ish minute runtime (and frankly, much of the rest of the episode is somewhat fluffy build up that feels like it's taking advantage of an extended runtime). A version without this added plot would, in my opinion, only warrant one final episode rather than two.

I think the showrunner, still scrambling to finish scripts as the episodes were being filmed, and making a snap decision to include a new major subplot (⁶), wrote a finale script so long and with so many plot threads that the only way to keep all this material of was to split it into two episodes, 5 and 6. And because they only could only make 6, he had to get rid of one of the previous 5 episodes - the already scripted and filmed ones - to make room for this new episode 5. A tough order when it's a plot-heavy miniseries... if not for episode 4 being a standalone divergence from the main plot about the lives of two side characters, one that could, in theory, be cut up and dispersed throughout the season without continuity issues for the main story.

(Some notes and clarifications under the cut)

(1) some sources initially reported the episode count as 8; this wasn't inaccurate - the 2022 new years/easter special were part of the episode order. Flux itself was always meant to be 6 episodes long. (2) A few of the production issues include: - episodes filming without a second draft:

- the fx team that had been on the show since 2005 abruptly leaving midseason (because they "didn't feel like part of the team anymore") and returning as soon as the creative team changed, including the head of the studio implying they weren't properly credited (mild vfx body horror warning in link):

- people working on additional projects such as books not receiving clear information on the characters they were assigned to write:

- and likely a director who was put on hold due to a script being rewritten:

Among other things I can't directly cite at the moment, including vfx artists having to do whole episodes solo in crunch time and writers not being told their work was massively overhauled until it aired due to major changes being extremely late in production.

While I don't wish to pontificate too much here and many of these things are pretty normal by themselves, I do think it could paint a picture of a production where an episode well into filming may genuinely be cut on a whim and without consideration for the crew, artists, etc. working on the show. (3) This reddit post comes from a leaker who was known to be consistently accurate. (4) Gallifrey One does not allow filming of panels. I know Kevin's livetweets of panels to be accurate. (5) It's very, very unlikely the entire season was moved back a week, as the premier is a Halloween special that was certainly always intended to air on Oct. 31st. (6) I don't wish to insinuate Chris Chibnall is, throughout his career, an inherently poor showrunner, but I do think that maybe his jump from police procedural - a genre that doesn't involve quite as much concept art, vfx work, marketing, convention panels, set building, episodic storytelling, and keeping in touch with expanded universe producers - to flagship science fiction adventure show may have contributed to some of these issues, especially when he was already in the mindset that things could be changed on a whim (perhaps not such a major issue when it's broadchurch and no new sets need be built)

(source) Basically I don't really think this is "the showrunner's fault" or anything; more that a perfect storm of a showrunner who was habitually late on scripts, used to writing lowkey cop dramas, covid, an entirely serialized season, etc. may have led to these issues

[fandom-oneshots-etc]

Hey, can you write a story about Evan Buckley and Reader announcing that she’s pregnant to the 118 at like a family gathering :)

🍄 Pairing: Evan Buckley x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff

🍄 Summary: At a 118 family gathering, Buck's overprotective nature reveals a little more than the two of you had planned.

🍄 Word Count: 1618

🍄 Abbreviations: N/A

🍄 Warnings: Pregnancy, implied pregnancy complications

🍄 Note: I really liked this request Anon! I hope this is what you were looking for. I thought about this scenario and I instantly imagined Buck accidentally announcing the pregnancy rather than planned. If you would rather a planned version, just pop in another request. A similar request came from @quinnstan247. Enjoy :)

You could feel the eyes following you closely as you slipped into the kitchen to refill your glass of orange cordial. Your overprotective, puppy-dog boyfriend remained outside in the garden of the Nash household along with the rest of the team as they stood around Bobby and the BBQ grill. You knew that Buck was searching for any reason he could to follow you inside, but you met his gaze through the windows and offered him a reassuring smile that seemed to subdue him for the minute.

Since the second you found out, Buck had been glued to your side. It had been three weeks since you took that test, since your doctor had confirmed it and in that time you had, had to convince him every single day that he could leave you and go to work. Every day he fought you, wanting the both of you to stay home so you could rest and he could wait on your every want and need, but you couldn’t do that. You were only thirteen weeks along and there was hardly any reason to be confined to the bed just yet. You knew that he was only concerned about the safety of you and the peach you currently carried in your womb. It was endearing and one of the sweetest things you’d ever seen, you hadn’t thought that Buck could get any sweeter, but here you were one act away from having a mouth full of cavities.

What hadn’t helped was that Buck had been responding to a number of pregnancy calls in the past few weeks a few resulting in sadder endings than anyone wanted. They had definitely struck a chord with Buck and had only made him hover all the more.

Adding the water to your cordial, you took a sip of the orange, a light buzz filling your taste-buds. You had become obsessed with anything orange flavoured since your pregnancy diagnosis. Whether it was orange skittles (which Buck had kindly sat and sorted out for you), or orange flavoured chocolate, or even the orange flavoured cupcakes you had found at the grocery store and ate within an hour of buying, anything orange and you were all for it.

Walking back into the garden, your entire body seemed to clench a little as you stepped back into the gaze of the sun. As much as you were enjoying this down time with the 118, it was so hot. The heatwave had only hit LA in the past few days but already it was in full swing and you were feeling every beam of it.

“Y/n,” you turned over to where Athena was sat with Hen and her daughter May. The three of them were stood around the mini bar that Athena had installed, in direct sunlight. Already hot, you fought down the urge to grimace as you moved to stand by them, the sun glaring on your skin. “We were just telling May about Buck and that kiddie ride at the mall. She doesn’t believe us.” Hen informed and a grin split across your lips, taking your mind off of the sweltering heat.

“Oh my, God. I have a photo, hang on,” You pulled your phone out of your shoulder bag and set your drink on the bar, thumb flicking through the many photos in your gallery in search of the one from the Saturday before. “He thought it was funny and I tried to tell him he wouldn’t fit but he insisted,” You giggled and turned your phone for May to see. “I honestly thought I’d have to call nine-one-one.”

Displayed across your screen was the photo that still had you giggling a week later. There sat Buck, who had squeezed his way into the small metal bus which was obviously aimed for children 7 and under. But Buck had twisted his body at all kinds of angles and had somehow managed to worm his way into the ride. His head was poked out of the door hole, his legs curled up against his chest, unable to stretch out in the tiny space that his body was occupying.

What Athena and the others didn’t know was that Buck wouldn’t have gotten into the ride if it wasn’t for you. That morning your hormones had been playing you like a fiddle and every little thing had upset you, the bin bag had broken when you were trying to change it out for a new one, somehow a red sock had slipped in with your whites and now everything you owned was slightly toned pink and they had shown that advert with the puppy sat in a box, in the rain, on the side of the street with people walking past ignoring it. It seemed, that morning, that everything was stacked against you. Buck had offered to come with you to the mall so you could pick up your clothing order from a store, you had ordered certain items that they didn’t have in stock and they had delivered into the store the day before. You were buzzing to see the new pair of pumps you had ordered. You knew that in a few months if not weeks, the shoes would probably be pressing against the sides of your feet and ankles because of the pregnancy swelling, but that hadn’t stopped you from ordering them in your size. However, like everything else that morning, even that didn’t go as planned. The shoes had been delivered in the wrong colour and in a size smaller than you wanted, making them impossible to wear. Buck had seen how disheartened you had been when you left the store, trying not to cry in frustration. He had wanted to do something to cheer you up and in a joking manner he had made a bet with you that he could fit inside the kiddie bus ride.

It had definitely succeeded in cheering you up, if not from how silly he looked, his large muscular frame curled up inside the ride, from when he got stuck and couldn’t get himself out straight away. You had done what you could to help him out, but you were giggling so hard your entire body went weak. When he had finally gotten out, the two of you had continued to giggle all the way home and your mood had been lifted for the rest of the day.

“Oh, my God,” May giggled. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Please send me that!” she begged.

“Of course,” you agreed with a laugh of your own. “I could never gate keep on a photo like this.”

“What made him get in there?”

“It’s Buck, does he need a reason?” Hen scoffed. As the ladies continued to giggle, the heat seemed to make it’s presence known as it glared down onto you. The side of your temples was beginning to throb and your skin was starting to get slick and sticky, sweat oozing from your pores. You raised a hand to swipe at your brow, glancing around the garden for the closest seat, your legs aching.

As you moved towards one of the sun loungers, your boyfriend’s eyes caught onto your movements, already on high alert.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” he asked, abandoning his drink at the grill and rushing towards you, one arm slipping around your waist to help guide you to the seat.

“Buck, I’m-”

“Dammit, it’s too hot out here for you. We should’ve cancelled,” he began muttering to himself. “Are you dizzy? Do you need a drink of water? What about something to eat? Is your blood sugar low? What if you’re dehydrated?” The only thing making you dizzy was the hurricane of questions Buck was sending your way, not even leaving a chance for you to answer them. One of his hands instinctively came to rest on the front of your stomach.

“Babe? Baby?” You tried to pull Buck out of his panicked rant, his eyes not once meeting yours as he kept scanning you for any visible injuries. Not that there were any, but the paranoia was getting the best of him and the heat probably wasn’t helping.

“We should get you in the shade,” he decided. “Shit, you should’ve stayed inside. You’re carrying precious cargo now, baby. You and peach can’t take this heat. We shouldn’t have come. This is all my fault-”

“Buck!” You pressed your hands to the sides of his face, directing his eyes to yours so you could try and ground him. “Buck, baby, I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m just a little hot and tired that’s all. It’s normal.” He still seemed a little uncertain, and his eyes held a lifetime of worry for you and his unborn child. “We’re okay. I promise.” You offered him a reassuring smile, your thumb coming to brush against his bottom lip rhythmically, giving him something to focus on. His eyelids pressed shut as he breathed slowly for a second.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause we can go home-”

“We’re fine. I just need to sit for a minute that’s all.” You peeked over his shoulder. “While I’m sitting, we should probably talk to the people behind you, they seem a little shocked. You kind of let the cat out of the bag.” Buck twisted his head to look around at the team behind him, everyone stood, jaws dropped and eyes wide. Eddie was the most comical of the bunch, his glass halfway raised to his mouth ready to take a sip but frozen in time with the news that Buck had unintentionally shared.

“H-Hey, guys,” He chuckled awkwardly with a sheepish grin. “I guess we have some news to share.”

[frogchiro]

Working off your recent post: big creepy monster Ghost who watches the reader sleep in their tight little panties and thin shirt🤤

Fem!reader, monster! Ghost, he's creepy and shameless in this, yandere themes, slight smut towards the end, reader is implied to be chubby

Shadow creature!Ghost who gets angry at first when he notices that someone moved into the cabin in his woods which was left basically abandoned for years and he used it sometimes as a temporary den of sorts.

At first he was going to just outright attack whomever moved into the house, probably eat them too, he wasn't very picky, until he saw who exactly moved in.

It turned out to be you, a pretty young thing in her early 20's who apparently wanted to 'run away' from everyone and everything as Ghost understood it from the bits and pieces of aborted shouted phone calls when he was lurking outside the windows at night.

What really stood out to him besides your apperance was you scent; a delicious, delectable sweet scent that made his maw open, rows of sharp teeth glinting with salvia as he sniffed and snuffled at the wind that carried your scent. It was then when he decided that you were his; it wasn't up to debate really! After all it was you who decided to move willingly into his territorry and whether you knew or not about him didn't really matter to Ghost. You were pretty, smelled delicious and your sweet laugh as you tended to the little vegetable garden you set up made something in his chest warm up.

He started lurking at your windows more often than not, watching you cook, eat, read and eventuall shower and sleep like the little creep he was, but could you really blame him? You were so oblivious it almost hurt and made him growl, you were clearly helpless and needed a protector! A big male shadow creature that would care for you, protect you and provide for you and your future pups.

He watched you dress up for bed and since it was summer you had your windows open so Ghost took the liberty of sliding through the open window and hide in the shadows, undetected and sikent as ever but watched you oh so attentively as you readied yourself for bed.

Your light almost see through top barely hanging on your full tits, almost spilling out, your soft curves visible under the short material but what interested him in particular were your panties. You slept only in your panties.

The pastel colored material did little to hide your precious place, they were tightly pulled up against your cunt and as you continued to peacefully sleep your lower lips were almost visible to him and Ghost was at. His. Limit.

He wanted so desperately to go up to you and take a sniff :( you smelled so so deliciously, so lovely and fertile like the perfect mate for him. He wanted to lick and suck at the seat of the panties, shove his nose in there and make you feel good, bite your thighs to mark you and show off to other shadow creatures that lurked in this forest that you were his.

But no, he had to wait, he needed to be patient. He had to be careful about revealing himself least he scared you off for good. He needed to play the long game but don't you worry~

You were going to be his mate and ultimately give him pups and Ghost was going to make sure of it♡

[qiu-yan]

there is no such thing as a singular "true nature"

recently saw a (or rather, yet another) post dunking on jiang cheng for blaming wei wuxian and trying to strangle him after the fall of lotus pier. which is fair, because that honestly was rather terrible of him.

however, one specific aside in that post stood out to me:

as i saw in the post i'm now being a hater about, antis have the tendency of boiling down an entire character to just their worst moments. but the section i highlighted above interests me precisely because i think it sheds light on what logical fallacy causes the anti tendency towards this boiling-down.

one common thread i've seen across antis of all sorts of characters - whether the characters they're bashing be jiang cheng, jin guangyao, su minshan, or wei wuxian himself - is this idea of a singular "true nature." the idea is that people have a "true nature," which is typically hidden by polite manners and civilized society, but may then be exposed during moments of stress in which those manners are stripped away.

the implied corollary to this idea of a singular "true nature" that is only revealed on occasion, then, is the existence of "false natures": if the self that is exposed during moments of high duress is one's "true nature," then the self that is seen during moments of normalcy is not one's "true nature." one's "true nature" is determined from solely these moments of high duress; the "nature" implied by one's actions during all other times does not count. if we follow this framework, then the you who goes apeshit after a bad day is closer to your "true nature" than the you who has a normal day of fun with your friends; the you who goes apeshit after a bad day is more real than the you who has a normal day with friends; the you who goes apeshit after a bad day matters more in the cumulative assessment of your existence than the you on every other day of your life.

as you might expect, i don't agree with this worldview. i don't condone boiling an entire person down to their single most extreme moments, not only because it is uncharitable, but also because i don't accept this idea of a "true nature" to begin with. to make such sweeping statements about an individual's "true nature" is overly simplistic and reductive of the full complexity of humanity. furthermore, in order for the idea of [a true nature that is only revealed in moments of duress] to work, one must rank all of the actions and behaviors of an individual from least to most "true," as described above - but, in fact, everything an individual does makes up who they are.

there is no such thing as a singular "true nature." you are not some fundamental "true nature" hidden away under layers and layers of pretense. everything you do - not just the things you do in moments of duress - makes up your character. you are the sum of all of your actions, both mundane and extreme: the you who has a normal day with friends is very bit as true, as real, as the you who reacts in extreme ways in extreme circumstances.

jiang cheng is the person who blamed wei wuxian for the fall of lotus pier and tried to strangle him for it. jiang cheng is also the person who spent his childhood shielding wei wuxian from dogs. jiang cheng is also the person who loves jiang yanli and sincerely wishes for her happiness. jiang cheng is the person who repeatedly tried to warn wei wuxian from messing with lan wangji and who carried wei wuxian after he got beaten by the lan. jiang cheng is the person who feels his father loves wei wuxian more than him. jiang cheng is the person who failed to stand up for mianmian out of concern for his own sect. jiang cheng is the person who ran restlessly for seven days to rescue wei wuxian (and lan wangji) from the xuanwu's cave; jiang cheng is also the person who resented not being thanked for his hard work. jiang cheng is the person who spent 3 months tirelessly looking for wei wuxian. jiang cheng is the person who allowed wei wuxian to secede from yunmeng jiang without any support in order to keep yunmeng jiang safe. jiang cheng is the person who helped jiang yanli sneak into the burial mounds so that wei wuxian could see her wedding clothes. jiang cheng is the person who blamed wei wuxian for jiang yanli's death. jiang cheng is the person who led the first siege of the burial mounds. jiang cheng is not the person who killed wei wuxian.

jiang cheng is the person who blamed wei wuxian for the downfall of lotus pier and then tried to strangle wei wuxian for it. jiang cheng is also the person who, barely a few hours later, sacrificed his everything in order to save wei wuxian from the wens.

both of these statements are true. all of these statements are true. the fact that one of these statements is true does not stop any of the others from being equally true. the reason why i dislike this "true nature" framework so much is that it cherrypicks certain moments as unique truths at the cost of all others - it centers one specific moment as indicative of an individual's entire nature, and in doing so discards all other moments as mattering less. in favor of a singular, easily digestible statement (eg. "jiang cheng's true nature is one of selfishness"), it erases the full complexities and contradictions true to humanity.

it is erroneous to say that "jiang cheng trying to strangle wei wuxian indicates his true nature," because of all the other shit that jiang cheng did. it is ALSO erroneous to say that "jiang cheng sacrificing himself to save wei wuxian indicates his true nature," because of all the other fucking shit that jiang cheng did. the fact is that jiang cheng did both of those things and also a whole bunch of other shit, and we all just have to accept it.

what's funny here is that this same "true nature" thinking also gets applied to wei wuxian himself in-universe. to the general public in MDZS, wei wuxian is the guy who invented demonic cultivation, who created the weapon of mass destruction that was the yin tiger tally, who killed jin zixuan, who got jiang yanli killed, and who in a moment of extreme emotional distress killed over a thousand people at the nightless city pledge conference. in their discussions of wei wuxian, the public centers these specific acts as indicating wei wuxian's singular "true nature." everything else wei wuxian was - his inventiveness, his kindness, his selflessness, his playfulness, his genius - gets dismissed as "false natures" in comparison to the one "true nature."

but this isn't an accurate description of wei wuxian, because to take just wei wuxian's very worst moments and then make those moments his entire being is not fair. wei wuxian tortured countless wen cultivators during the sunshot campaign, wei wuxian killed jin zixuan and heavily injured jiang yanli before her death, wei wuxian killed over a thousand people at the nightless city pledge conference. wei wuxian also sacrificed his everything for jiang cheng, abandoned the easy way out in favor of protecting innocent people from suffering, and has repeatedly chosen to help others when he could have easily not done so. all of these statements are true. the fact that one of them is true does not prevent any of the others from being equally true. the wei wuxian who chose to help the wen remnants is every bit as real as the wei wuxian who killed over a thousand people at nightless city, and to take either of these moments and assert that it alone reveals a "true nature" while ignoring the other is to commit a logical fallacy.

tl;dr - people contain multitudes.

regarding what the op of the screenshot actually said: they are correct in that jiang cheng does display a repeated pattern of behavior in which he blames wei wuxian for his family's misfortunes and thus lashes out at wei wuxian. but the degree to which wei wuxian is actually blameless for this misfortune, i think, is much greyer than the op said.

[peopleareaproblem]

"It's the only name I can say."

So last ep, Kalina dropped this line after saying "Ragh Barkrock" again. She's really trying to get the Bad Kids to deduce who she could be referring to via Ragh. We've found out about the Spy's Tongue Curse since she last dropped Ragh's name, so it's clear that she's implying that she cannot say the names she wants to say and is dropping Ragh's name as a clue. I've been seeing a lot of theories about this line that are convinced it's implying Lydia Barkrock. I disagree: I think she is referring to Arianwen, Jace and Porter. Here's why.

First of all, and most obviously: Kalina says Lydia's full name in Sophomore Year episode 6.

Kalina: But you do have some time to talk it over because I'm gonna head out and kill Lydia Barkrock. So take care.

I don't think Brennan or the D20 Lorekeeper would have missed this. Kalina doesn't have a Spy's Tongue Curse with Lydia.

Secondly, the gang already investigated Lydia and got relevant clues from her, and Brennan did not encourage suspicion towards Lydia in any way. This repeat of the clue really feels like a "you guys didn't get it yet" type thing. Last time they assumed Lydia and that wasn't it. Try again.

Thirdly, Ragh's only real interaction with Kalina is about a single time he saw something he shouldn't have: Jace, Porter and Arianwen talking to someone invisible (Kalina) on Prom Night. I believe that if the Bad Kids just asked Ragh what Kalina could possibly have meant by "Ragh Barkrock" and "It's the only name I can say," he would absolutely bring up this fact. But they haven't!

That's why I am convinced that Arianwen, and to a lesser extent Jace and Porter, are who Kalina was referring to.

Below the cut are some bits of the trancript from Episode 4 of Sophomore Year, where Ragh reveals this to the Bad Kids.

Ragh is describing the aftermath of the fight with Kalvaxus:

Ragh: I ran into the school. And I went and I saw there was this conversation, and I was going, 'cause a lot of the teachers had been trapped in the crystals and had come out again. And I saw Jace, the sorcery teacher-- Adaine: Mm-hmm. Ragh: Talking to this woman that I didn't recognize. She was an elven woman, she was wearing sort of like black, dark robes, it looked like, they were very light. She was blonde, she had glasses. Adaine: She look like this? [points at her face] Ragh: She look like you? Adaine: Mm-hmm. Ragh: I mean, yeah. Yeah, she looked like, yeah, she looked like you. But older. She didn't look like-- Adaine: Right. Ragh: Um, you know, I mean, elves never look that old, but she looked like, you know, not a high schooler. Um. Jace and them were talking, and they were talking to somebody else who I couldn't see. I just assumed somebody was like, invisible. Um. Later, um, Jace and Porter came and talked to me--

Ragh goes on to describe Porter healing him, despite Ragh not feeling "that injured, honestly", and after that he can see Kalina despite not being able to see her moments before:

Ragh: And after that, I was like walking home, and I saw this cat woman, this tabaxi. And she came up, and told me all this stuff about my mom, and she said if I ever talked to anyone about it, she would kill my mom.

This indicates that Porter infected Ragh with the curse, on purpose. Probably to allow Kalina to threaten and manipulate him so he wouldn't tell anyone what he saw. She really doesn't want him telling anyone that he saw Arianwen there.

Ragh: She told me if I ever mentioned to anyone what I had seen about that elven woman-- Adaine: Mm-hmm. Ragh: That she would kill my mom.

They have a short conversation about wether Jace is suspect, but dismiss it. Adaine shows Ragh a photo of her mother and he confirms that it is the woman he saw.

[sophswritingthings]

Had an idea where mizu has an injury and ringo has to take mizus clothes off enough to reveal her back (she covers her front side by holding up her clothing or something) but once he sees her back hes shocked because it has scratches all over it (due to reader omg?? Ifykyk) and Ringo and Taigen are both confused because they dont know mizu and reader are dating! They end up asking if she did anything in the brothels and mizu is just smiling in a love sick way at the thought of reader as shes being pushed and bothered by the two boys. Readers tending to the fire while this is happening and snickering to herself?? Love your writing i hope this wasnt too confusing

pairing: mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): implied nsfw

a/n: hi!!! I’m back!!! (I feel so much better, thank you for all your kind words and wishes <3) and I love this idea 😭

summary: ringo and taigen find scratches all up and down mizu’s back.

word count: 310 words / 1,738 characters 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

���careful.”

mizu hissed the word, holding her clothes against her chest. she had a deep wound across her shoulder. the only one she trusted other than you to see her like this would be ringo.

if you knew how to stitch, she’d have you do it.

but, she didn’t, so ringo was her next best option.

and of course—taigen was there, but she’d shoved him away. him, seeing her like this? her worst nightmare.

“uhm, master..” ringo whispered, gazing up and down mizu’s back. “you have scratches covering your whole back—did something else happen? how long have you had these? they look new..”

her eyes widened, for only a moment. scratches? what did he mean? oh.

oh. that’s what he meant.

“ah.. just..” she could barley get out a few words before she chuckled. she glanced over her shoulder, seeing you snickering by the fire.

“we’re you up to something in the brothels, mizu?”

taigen’s voice rings in the room, seeing him leaning against the wall.

“well.. I—“ she chuckled again, unable to make a full sentence. “sort of.”

you snickered again, smiling down at your fingertips—where your nails were rather long, able to leave deep scratch marks on anything you so wished.

“well someone must be good at it, then,” taigen scoffed, not wanting to really admit the fact.

“you could say that,” you snorted, covering your mouth with your hand. 

mizu looked at you with wide blue eyes, her cheeks flooding with a red tinged color. you smiled softly at her, giggling as you saw the expression on her face. 

“(y/n)..” she mouthed, gazing at you with slightly slimmed eyes.

you smiled brightly at her, looking away and back at the fire. her eyes narrowed fully. now she’d have to go through a whole thing with taigen and ringo and explain your words.

she’d deal with you later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[magiccath]

Tenth Doctor x Reader Masterlist

❤️ : Featuring Donna Noble 🎀 : Fem! reader (I try to keep all of my fics gender-neutral but some of my older ones aren't!) ⭐️ : Holiday

One Shots

Turtles All The Way Down

The Doctor helps you on a bad anxiety day

Hold Me Tight (Or Don't)

You just need some physical affection from the Doctor

TARDIS Tricks

The TARDIS pulls some matchmaking schemes

Emergency Dance Party

The Doctor and the TARDIS cheer you up

The Sniffles

You hide being sick from the Doctor, comfort ensues

The Prettiest Alien

After catching the Doctor admiring a skirt, you buy it for him

Secrets big and small

You're forced to admit your feelings for the doctor, even if you think he will leave you for it

The Doctor's Coat

You're not that cold, you just really like wearing the Doctor's coat

Mornings

A quiet morning in with the Doctor (CW: Implied NSFW content)

Psychic Paper

The psychic paper reveals the Doctor's feelings for you

Christmas With The Doctor ⭐️

A Very Noble Christmas ❤️⭐️

Donna ropes Wilf into her matchmaking mischief

Home Alone ⭐️

you show the Doctor the Christmas classic

The Ring 🎀

A fake marriage... but how fake is it really?

Endings

the Doctor hates endings, especially when it comes to you

Distracted

the Doctor can be very distracting

How Could You Not Know?

an alien fortune teller lets your feelings for the Doctor slip

5 Times The Doctor Loved You, And One Time He Actually Did Something About It

A Mind Full Of Blissful Terrors

Doctor and reader investigate a spooky abandoned spaceship (CW: gore, singular f-bomb)

Tokens Of Love ❤️

The Doctor likes to leave you love notes. At least… that's what you think they are

Worst Nightmare

The Doctor is trapped in an alien-induced nightmare and it's up to reader to save him

It Had To Be You

what if it was reader stuck in the radiation chamber instead of Wilf?

The Doctor's Licking Habit

The Doctor's habit of licking things finally has consequences

Pretending 🎀

You take the Doctor as your "date" to your brother's wedding

A Matchmaker Of Sorts ❤️

Donna plays matchmaker for her two best friends

Every Word

two idiots finally admit their love for each other

Headcanons

Part 1

Part 2

Short!Reader

Heart Condition Headcanons

Nursing Student

Scientist

Being Sick

The Era's Tour

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Do Ghost and Jade's kids don't know about their careers (or in Jade's case, former career)? Cause the comic you made of Andrew seeing Ghost in the middle of the night sorta implies they don't know about their parents' military background.

HMMM HM HM Good catch right there 👀👀

So this is also a part of what I've been thinking inside the Riley family after they have kids.

- I feel like the kids would definitely know about Simon's career as a soldier. BUT, as they are still in their early teens, I'd imagine that Andrew, Gracie, and later Orion know that their dad is a soldier, but that's the extent of their knowledge. They do know about Simon's nickname "Ghost", but they don't know how Simon operates inside the Task Force, they're not aware that their dad is an officer of one of the most elite and dangerous task force in the world. As far as they know, their dad only has edgy hobbies that involves black outfits and skull/skeleton themed. Heck, they even made fun of his preferences in outfits.

- But dear God, they never saw him in a full-on combat gear, in the dark of the night.

- Ghost is an officer, so day by day, he'd left the house with open face, and only wears the mask inside the car. After work day, he'd take off the mask before entering the house. If he's too tired, he'd try to sneak in in the deep of the night without making a sound. He'd sworn to himself that 'Ghost' will never enter his family and children's house/lives. They do not need trouble and his dangerous line of work to enter the one thing he cherishes the most.

- However, once you have kids, you can't hide anything forever. They'll find out by themselves (in this case, Andrew is entering his puberty and needs some midnight munchies). Simon and Lottie knows this, so they already have everything figured out. What would Andrew's reaction be, what would Gracie's reaction be, what would Orion's reaction be. They've discussed what they'd reveal, and what they'd still keep a secret, again, until they're old enough to know. They tread VERY carefully about it.

- About their mother though, that's a whole different story. After their marriage, Jade has strictly commited to be a mother for her kids, and opened a branch of The Garden in Herefordshire. She's an ✨ entrepreneur ✨. She's not that active to be called into deployment as before she had kids. If she's used to be 60% florist and 40% TF141 ally, after she had kids she'd be 98% Mum and Florist, and 2% TF141 Ally. Her kids literally only knows her as a florist, and that's it. Up until their late teens, Andrew, Gracie, and Orion would have no clue nor idea about her past with MI6. She didn't lie, she's just holding the truth until they're big enough to understand.

- In fact, Ghost BEGGED and asked Jade to not be active inside the TF141 or any conflicts anymore, considering Ghost would be deployed a lot (and how he's promoted to Captain and above), he'd want his wife to be with her kids. Jade herself also agreed, but she also told Ghost to not die and do stupid stuff. Even though married and less involved in the TF141 business, her resolve stayed the same. If he's missing, she'd pick up the guns in a heartbeat.

- Now, back to the kids. I'd imagine that because of how eventful each of Simon and Lottie's lives are, it sort of like become a game to the family. Each birthdays of the kids, Simon has established a "3 Question" rule game, where the kids can ask their parents anything about their lives. From Andrew and Orion, it's usually trivial and simple stuffs like "What's the naughtiest things you've ever done" "What's your favorite bla bla bla". HOWEVER, with Gracie, its always "What's your favourite mission?" "What's the worst condition of a dead body you've ever find?" "Who's the most difficult bad man you've ever encountered?" "Where is he now?"

- Ghost and Jade would answer with only two sentences. Looking at each other for approval. Gracie is most definitely Simon's daughter with that line of questioning. BUT, again, with every birthdays, and with their increasing age and they become more mature, they'll reveal everything bit after bit.

- By the time they finally know everything about their parents, they'd be in college years, probably, and Simon would no longer be the Ghost (he might be one of the higher ranked officer at this point), and Lottie would be completely out of the Task Force 141 game, becoming a regular civilian. Still, it'd be a legendary story to tell.

WOOHOO I kinda yapped a bit there, but hope that answer your question!

[project-sekai-facts]

someone asked for the full list

don't question what i use tiermaker for

Tier 1: As stated in today's fact, Shizuku and Haruka can be considered the most attractive characters in the game, as multiple characters have shown attraction to them. Shizuku moreso than Haruka, but there's not too much of a difference to separate the tiers.

Tier 2: These characters have all been stated somewhere to be attractive.

Mafuyu is considered to be outstanding in all fields, including appearance. It's occassionally commented that she is quite pretty. Ichika and KAITO's first kizuna title is "Ikemen while playing", ikemen meaning handsome or cool. Ena has a Twitter account for selfies that has a reasonable following, and she often gets comments saying that she's pretty or cute. Len has a similar sort of idol aura to Haruka does, and is referred to as 'princely'.

Tier 3: These characters are never explicitly stated in the game to be attractive, but you can work it out.

A few background characters in Petit SEKAI Episode 9 mention that Akito and Toya are hot. Given that the miniseries is non-canon and a gag show it's up for debate how true this is, although it is a believable detail, hence why they're in this tier.

As for Rui, we have to look at the Valentine's Virtual Live from 2021 (wiki screenshots below). Keep in mind here that Rui is not popular in school at all and doesn't have many friends at this point in the game. He mentions that he received a few boxes of chocolate in his shoe locker on Valentine's Day, which admittedly could be platonic. However, the fact that this continues on into a joke about Tsukasa trying to claim that he got chocolates too before revealing that he got friendzoned by multiple girls (more on that in a second), makes it seem more likely that these weren't platonic. Linking back to the fact that he's not popular and doesn't really have many friends, he's probably pretty good-looking.

Tier 4: An being scouted as a model was an important part of the plot of Wishing For Your Happiness Upon The Blue Sky, and it's mentioned in an area conversation that Kanade has been talent scouted for modelling before.

Tier 5: Full disclosure that probably all of the MMJ VSingers are either pretty or cute, the ones mentioned here are just the ones I remember it being stated/implied. In the April Fools 2022 area conversation with the Lukas, MMJ!Luka says that WxS!Luka is very cute. N25!Luka calls her MMJ variant out for calling herself cute, and MMJ!Luka says that she herself is cute. (TL)

Kohane is mainly referred to as cute by An, which is biased, but other characters have pointed this fact out before as well, so she qualifies for this tier.

Mizuki loves cute clothes and accessories and always tries to look cute. I believe a few other characters have called them cute, but unfortunately the only instance I can actually remember is one transphobic faceless background character saying "you can't tell and they're super cute".

Also Minori and Airi are here because they're idols and have been called cute because that's part of being an idol I suppose.

Tier 6: Yes he gets his own tier because it's funny. This guy runs on rule of funny like 50% of the time. Anyway, as mentioned earlier, in the 2021 Valentine's Virtual Live, he gets annoyed when he hears Rui talking about receiving (implied romantic) chocolate and tries to claim that he too received (implied confession) chocolate, before saying too much and revealing that he only received friend chocolates that girls gave out to all the other boys as well.

Tsukasa's actually a lot more popular than Rui and doesn't have the same "outcast" reputation, plus in his A Once-In-A-Lifetime Pandemonium card story, Ibuki (Taniyama) mentions that Tsukasa's friends from class are really popular with girls, and Rui's friends are surprised he's in that kinda crowd (not that Tsukasa quite gets it). What I'm saying is that he's in a crowd of popular guys that are good with women and he's failing in that second aspect. The reason why is never stated but considering the school's resident outcast is able to get Valentine's chocolate for probably no reason other than looks, it's safe to assume Tsukasa is maybe lacking in that field.

But.

I think two guys have flirted with him? One definitely has anyway. The other is more up for debate but was probably written with the intent of ship tease. Depends on how you choose to interpret it.

In other words on a scale of attractive to unattractive he's the secret 3rd option (appeals to the mlms).

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Obligation [Joel x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us

Ship: Joel Miller x you/f!reader who is 52.

Tags/warnings: Throwing up, unplanned pregnancy, angst, Joel doesn't take it well but is soft, implied abortion.

Summary: You've been fucking Joel Miller for a couple of months when you realize that you're pregnant - which you didn't think possible because you thought you were post-menopausal. How does one get an abortion in Jackson - and how are you going to tell Joel?

Words: 4,267

A/N: For all my old gals out there, as well as those who don't want kids.

My masterlist

I think I may be pregnant.

The realization reverberates through you, bringing with it another wave of nausea. You barely have time to stick your head down the toilet before you throw up. The acrid taste of bile fills your mouth and nose, and tears stream down your cheeks. You grip the toilet seat as you continue retching, your stomach hellbent on emptying itself.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. No. No, no, no, no, no, how can this be?

What an idiot question. You almost laugh at yourself in the midst of this misery. How does one become pregnant? Well, fucking someone like Joel Miller on a regular basis is a good start. He fucks you deep and good, the bed and his body creaking in unison as he has you pinned underneath him, his broad, heavy body a welcome weight on you, his cock balls deep inside your wet cunt when he finishes and leaves you full even after he's pulled out. His thick, creamy cum dripping out of you when you fall into blissful sleep, sometimes with him staying over.

You know how babies are made, for God's sake. You just didn't count on you still being able to make them. You're past 50,  and your period stopped years ago. This is new to you, you’ve never been pregnant before or even had an interest in trying, but you’re not stupid. You’ve been feeling tired lately, out of sorts, a dull nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach like just before your period, and last night when Joel grabbed your breasts, you almost punched him. Even now they’re so sore even the weight of them hurts.

And now this. Morning sickness. You haven’t eaten anything strange, you were okay last night, and paired up with everything else that has been going on… you must be pregnant.

Thank God Joel isn’t here, you think dimly. He didn't stay over last night, quoting an early morning today to go on patrol. You didn't mind. What you have together is casual, and you're not the one who needs to be cuddled – or coddled, for that matter. You like it when he stays over, but don’t care if he doesn’t. It has worked out well for a few months now.

And now this. You draw a quivering breath, and slump against the wall. It seems like your stomach has settled, so after a couple of minutes, you carefully stand up and bend over the sink, rinsing out your mouth with cold water before splashing some in your face. Straightening your back, you meet your tired gaze in the small mirror above the sink. There is nothing different there, except a lack of energy, but nothing that could reveal the fact that you are carrying a growing clump of cells in your belly.

The thought makes you nauseous again, and you step back to the toilet, expecting to be sick, but there is nothing else to expel, so you flush the toilet, and slowly make your way to the kitchen. Despite being sick, or because of it, you’re hungry, so you take out what provisions you have, and sit down at the table. You usually take your meals in the dining hall, but you don’t want to show yourself right now. God knows what will happen if anyone asks you how you are. And what if you eat, and then throw up again?

Slowly, you gnaw away at a slice of bread with cheese on it, while trying to get yourself together and think over your options. But no matter how you try to think about it, there are no options except one: you have to get rid of it. The reasons are many, but the two most pressing ones are the simple fact that you have never wanted children, and this is not a world into which children should be born, as far as you’re concerned. The more you think about it, the more certain you are. But how in the hell are you going to get an abortion? And while you may not be shy, how the actual fuck are you going to tell the doc that you, a 52-year-old woman, didn’t think to protect yourself? Or that you know your own body so badly that you didn’t even know that you’re, in fact, not post-menopausal?

You stopped crying years ago because tears have no function in this world, but now your humiliation makes your tears well up. You sniffle wetly, put down the piece of bread, and angrily wipe at your eyes.

“Fuck,” you mutter, but there is no stopping the tears. When the first one runs down your cheek, you bang your fist to the table and scream.

“FUCK!”

You let the tears fall, confident that there won’t be too many. When you’re done crying, you finish your meagre breakfast, wipe your face, and get dressed. A day of work awaits you, and maybe if you work hard enough…

You shudder at the thought. You may not have any experience in this department, but you know that your age is a liability. Things could go wrong, and you could die. You don’t want to die. You didn’t survive for all these years just to get taken out by a goddamn unwanted pregnancy.

Fortified by your sheer will to live, you open the front door, and get to work.

During your lunch break, you slip into the Jackson library, which is only just one room in the schoolhouse. The collection consists of whatever has been found during raids, as well as works that the residents have brought with them. The stacks are neat, though, thanks to the teacher who also doubles as a librarian. The collection is divided into main classes, and you quickly find the small section for Biology. There is a middle school book with a chapter on human reproduction, but that’s just the basics. You check the Medicine section, finding nothing. You leave the library, mentally chiding yourself for thinking that you’d find anything there to help you deal with the fact that you’re geriatric, pregnant, and in need of an abortion, with no hope of having one because there are no hospitals, only one doctor who operates out of a simple cabin with barely any equipment or drugs.

Anxiety rises in you again, bringing bile with it. You slink in behind the nearest house and bend over. What little breakfast you had lands before your feet, and you spit away the taste.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck am I going to do?

You take a steadying breath before reappearing back on the street, aiming for your house. So purposeful are you to get away from people, that you don’t notice the tall man next to you before he puts his hand on your arm.

“Hey.”

You start, jerking back before you recognize Joel’s frowning face.

“Sorry,” he apologizes immediately. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, casting your eyes down as you continue your walk. “Just didn’t see you there.”

“Going to lunch?”

“I already ate.”

“All right.” His hand is on your arm again, now effectively stopping you in the middle of the street. He stands in front of you, broad, tall, and smelling of horses.

“You sure you’re okay?” His voice is lower now, so as to not have anyone overhear him. “You look a little pale.”

Joel Miller has been nothing but good to you. He doesn’t talk much, and what little he talks, happens in the darkness after you’ve fucked, when there are no barriers left between the two of you. He keeps to himself, to the girl who was with him when he arrived, to his brother. To you, now. You may not be able to make him laugh as Ellie does, but he saves soft smiles for you. He’s loyal, kind, and helpful. And despite all that, you’re going to lie to him.

“I didn’t sleep well.” You look into his eyes, even giving him the ghost of a smile. “You wore me out, but I still couldn’t sleep.”

His face softens visibly, a smile playing in the corner of his mouth as he leans in and whispers: “I’m sorry, darling. Just have to try harder next time.”

Something flutters in the pit of your stomach, but it doesn’t translate to the usual heaviness between your legs. Instead, you just feel sick for having lied to him.

Joel’s hand travels down your arm to your hand, thick fingers quickly squeezing years before letting go.

“See you later?”

You hear the question, know what it means.

“I think I better get a good night’s sleep?”

Joel flashes a sympathetic grin. “Good idea. See you around.”

You watch him stride towards the dining hall, broad back squared, head held high in constant vigilance, even here within the walls of Jackson.

He’ll figure it out eventually. He’s smart. He’ll know something’s up.

You shake your head to get rid of those unwanted thoughts, and then you return to work.

The next morning starts the same way the previous one did: with your head down the toilet bowl. This time you feel even more sick because you didn’t get much sleep, and when you finally emerge out of your house, you run into Joel, who’s halfway up your porch.

“Morning,” he greets you, then stops as he sees your ashen face. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m coming down with something,” you shrug, stacking another lie upon the previous one.

“Maybe you should stay home, get some rest,” he suggests, and even if he’s wearing his customary frown, you can hear how his voice is laced with concern. Managing a smile, you brush your arm against his.

“I’ll just get antsy. I’ll take it easy today, I promise.”

He’s happy with that and doesn’t question you when you don’t go to communal breakfast.

For the next few days, you do what you can to avoid Joel. You don’t want him to know that you’re sick in the mornings, don’t want him to touch you and find out how tender your breasts are, don’t want to talk to him or even see him because it only reminds you of the solution you inevitably have to find soon. You’re going to have to come clean to the doc at the very least –  unless you try to deal with the situation by yourself somehow. But you have no idea how to do that without hurting yourself, and that’s the last thing you want to do.

Finally, it’s Joel who takes the first step. You have declined his visits for a week when he surprises you by knocking on your door one night. His face is backlit by the porch light that creates a halo around his ragged, curl-prone hair.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m tired,” you mumble, but he speaks your name, and you realize that there is no running away anymore. So, you step to the side to let him in.

He stands before you, arms crossed over his broad chest as he stares at the floor between the two of you. You can’t look at him, so you stare at the same spot. There’s dirt from his boots there, but you don’t care.

“Listen, I…” he starts, clearing his throat. “I know nothing’s been explicitly said here. About us, I mean. It is what it is. But I thought we had a good thing going, and now it seems like you don’t want anything to do with me anymore?”

Your stomach drops, and for a moment you fear that you’ll throw up your dinner as well as you did your breakfast.

“Joel…”

“I just want to know if I did something wrong, so that I can apologize and then leave you be.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you tell him quietly, wrapping your arms around yourself to prevent the slight trembling that’s starting to travel through your body. Your nerves are shot, and you press your lips together to keep your teeth from chattering.

“Then what is it?” Now he’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes burn into you.

Does he have to sound so fucking gentle? It would be easier if he yelled at you, or stormed out, or hadn’t come at all, but you should have known that Joel Miller would be so fucking gentle about it.

You take a deep breath, then finally look up into his eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

Joel stares at you, his face blank. There is just nothing there for several breaths before his brows rise and his arms fall to his sides.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me.”

He still looks at you like he doesn’t understand.

“But… how is that possible?”

You lean your head to one side and give him a come on kind of look. Joel scoffs, scratches his head, then shakes it.

“Aren’t you too old?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You didn’t know?”

You don’t like the hint of accusation in his voice.

“I’m sorry I haven’t seen my healthcare provider in a while!” you snap, now irritated. The change in tone causes in a change in Joel as well.

“If you weren’t sure, then why the hell weren’t you more careful?”

“So it’s my fault?” Your voice is now raised, and your hands come to your hips. “You took one look at me and thought, ‘Oh, this old hag surely has no eggs left’, and then you happily stuck your dick in me, to hell with any other consequences?”

“You should’ve said something!” he growls, now visibly upset. If you weren’t so intimately familiar with just how soft he could be, you’d be afraid of his dark storm cloud demeanor. But you’re not afraid: you’re pissed off.

“I didn’t know,” you articulate. “I haven’t had my period in years, and I’m over fifty! How the fuck could I have known that I could get fucking pregnant!”

“Is it even mine?” Joel retorts, and for some reason, that’s what makes you snap. Before you know it, your palm has connected with his cheek, and you’re pointing at the door.

“Get out. Get the fuck out, now!”

You don’t need to tell him twice: the door slams only a moment after. You’re no longer feeling nauseous, or trembling. You’re just empty inside.

He's back the next morning. You did not expect that, and eye him with apprehension where he stands in the doorway, shame etched into his features.

"Can I please come in?" he asks quietly. You're nauseous again, but you don't want to be a bitch. He's a good one, you know that, despite everything. He deserves a chance.

You let him in, gesture for him to go on through to the kitchen. Following him, you swallow down the nausea, and hope that you won't have to throw up. It would be so humiliating.

Sitting down, you nod to him to do the same. He perches uncomfortably on the edge of his seat, sincere gaze searching for eye contact.

"I'm really sorry," he finally says, his voice low but earnest. "I handled myself poorly."

You give him a Ya think? look but say nothing. He gets the message.

"I didn't expect... or think..." He falls silent, looks down at the scratched surface of the table. You stare him down relentlessly, waiting for him to speak on. He's slowly rubbing the knuckles of his right hand, like they're itchy or in pain.

"I had a daughter, a long time ago. She... I lost her on the first day."

Your heart could break from the choked agony of his voice. Swallowing hard, this time to fight the lump in your throat, not nausea, you reach across the table to put your hand over his.

"Joel..."

He looks up at you, now with a new fire in his eyes.

"It was a long time ago, but I've lived in that pain every day, until Ellie took me out of it. And now... this feels like a second chance."

He raises your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your palm. You stare at him, suddenly wary.

"What do you mean, second chance?"

"To have a child with you."

You stare at him in bewilderment, barely even sure you heard him right. He hurries to elaborate.

"I'll take my responsibility. I'll help you raise the child. You won't have to do it all alone."

You quickly pull your hand out of his, like you burned yourself.

"Joel... I'm not going to keep it?"

Before Joel can say anything, your stomach revolts, and you shoot out of your chair, only just making it to the sink before you throw up. Spitting and turning on the water to wash away the vomit, you cup your hand under the stream of cold water, and drink to eradicate the sour taste in your mouth. Barely having swallowed the water, you throw up again.

Joel's warm body pushes gently against you, and his hand is on the small of your back.

"That's it," he murmurs, "deep breath, you're okay."

"I'm fine," you gasp, trying to breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell that seems to penetrate everything.

"I know," he replies calmly, reaching for a glass and filling it with water before handing it to you. "Here."

You drink carefully, hoping it'll stay down. The cold water chills your entire stomach, but you do feel better.

"Thanks." You glance up at him, hand holding the glass shaking a little. Joel notices, and takes it from you.

"You're welcome. Wanna sit down?"

You nod mutely, and he leads you back to the kitchen table. You can walk by yourself, but it's comforting to have his hand on your back. You're no longer alone in this, and it's a bigger relief than you thought.

You bow your head and hide your face in your hands for a moment, steadying yourself. Hearing the other chair scrape against the floor, you finally look up at Joel.

He looks sad but resigned.

"How far along are you?" he asks quietly. You shrug.

"No idea."

"Probably over six weeks."

You shrug again and draw your hand through your hair.

"I meant what I said, Joel." You try to sound gentler. "I'm not keeping it. I can't. I don't want it."

He casts his eyes down, and for a second you think you see a tremble in his lower lip. Then he sniffles with a grimace and looks up again.

"Okay."

You raise your brows. "Is that all you're going to say?"

"It's not my decision, sweetheart." This term of endearment is new, and you're not sure what to make of it.

"You're not going to try to convince me to keep it?" you dare him, but without vehemence. You're just tired.

Joel shakes his head, but you can see that he has something on his mind.

"Joel?" you prompt, and he finally sighs deeply.

"Are you sure you won't regret it?" His voice is eerily toneless, like he's trying his best not to sound accusatory. You rub your forehead with both palms in an attempt to suppress the headache that you can feel building up behind your frontal lobe.

"I've never wanted kids," you tell him in the same, dispassionate voice. "Not when I was younger, and surely not now. Not in this world, not at my age. Not at all."

He flinches, like your words hurt him, but then he nods solemnly.

"Okay. What are you going to do?"

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, because the question faced you with the fact that you have absolutely no idea how to deal with this.

"I don't know."

Your voice breaks, and the first tears well up in your eyes.

"Fuck." The tears spill down your cheeks, and you hide your face from Joel, embarrassed by this sudden display of desperation.

"Hey..."

He's around the table in a heartbeat, crouching by your chair and collecting you into his arms.

"It's okay, sweetheart, we'll figure it out. We'll talk to the doc."

The tears multiply, and you sob audibly from sheer relief of having someone else take charge. You haven't lived with the knowledge of your condition for barely a week, but it has weighed you down more than you knew. And now Joel knows, and he is telling you that it's going to be all right.

"I - just - feel - so - stupid!" you whimper between the sobbing, and Joel strokes his hand down your back.

"Not as stupid as I feel. It's okay, I promise you it'll be okay."

You draw a deep, quivering breath, and square your shoulders. They feel lighter, and you wipe your eyes and cheeks before smiling weakly at Joel.

"Thank you."

"I got you," he smiles back, a dimple appearing in his cheek. You haven't seen it before. It feels like a promise.

Carl, Jackson's doctor, is a GP, but has had to deal with a variety of emergencies over the years. He doesn't bat an eye when you, seated next to Joel, tell him of your predicament, and that you want a termination. He asks for a urine sample, handing you a cup that you, frowning, take with you into the bathroom, do your business, and leave it on the counter, as per Carl's instructions. Coming out of the bathroom, Carl asks you to come back in the afternoon. You agree on a time before you and Joel step out. He squeezes your hand before you part to go to work.

Returning later to Carl's office, you find out that you are, with a seventy percent accuracy, indeed pregnant.

"It's the best test I have," Carl explains. "If a thin film forms over the urine, pregnancy is likely. If not, there is no pregnancy."

"And it couldn't be anything else?" Joel asks, surprising you. Carl looks pained for a moment, and you realize what a difficult question that is. Your hand moves on top of Joel's on the arm rest.

"Given the symptoms; breast tenderness, morning sickness, light cramping... I can't think of anything else to explore."

 "How do we stop it?" you want to know. "Can we even?"

"A surgical abortion is technically possible," Carl nods, and you feel your shoulders relax. "I've done it a couple of times before I came to Jackson, even."

"Well, good."

"Is it safe?" Joel's voice seems tight. "Is it doable here, in these conditions?"

Carl hesitates for a moment before leaning forward to rest his forearms on his desk.

"The procedure itself doesn't take longer than fifteen minutes, but our conditions are, as you probably understand, not ideal. I can sterilize the equipment, but our biggest concern, apart from post-surgical infections, is pain relief."

He lets the information sink in before he adds: "I simply do not have the means to sedate you or give you the pain relief that you are going to need. I wish I could tell you this in any other way, but I can't: It's going to hurt a lot."

You swallow tightly. Joel's thumb passes over the back of your hand.

"Okay," you tell him in a small voice. "I don't have a choice. I'm not going to have a kid in this world. There's no way. We have to do it."

Later, after an extensive talk with the doc, you step out onto the main street of Jackson, Joel right behind you. Without words, the two of you slowly walk towards your house. Not until reaching it, do you sit down on the porch steps. Joel sits down next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"That's a hard question to answer," you sigh, rubbing your forehead. Joel sighs as well.

"Yeah."

You sit in silence and watch people go by. Ellie passes further away together with a friend, waving hello to you but not coming over to chat. You and Joel wave back.

"What does she know about us?" you ask quietly. Joel grunts.

"She knows we hang out, that I like your company, but I haven’t told her that we… you know.”

"I’m sure she knows. She's a smart girl."

"That she is."

You wet your lips. "Listen, Joel... I just want to say... thank you, I guess. For being there for me."

"Of course," he replies softly. "And I really am sorry for how I reacted."

"I'm sorry for slapping you."

"I deserved it."

"Kind of." You shoot a quick grin at him, and he grins back.

"Don't think about that," you shake your head. "And I want you to know that you don't have to be involved in what comes next."

"I'm not going to - "

"You wouldn't mind having a baby," you cut him off, "so I'm not going to have you watch me take one away."

"It's not a baby yet," he reminds you pragmatically. "And I said we'd figure this out together. I'll be there, every step of the way. I'll make sure you get through this."

He speaks with a quiet, gentle confidence that makes you want to cry again. You never knew how much you have longed for someone like him.

"You don't have an obligation," you try one last time. Joel turns towards you and cups the back of your head with one large hand.

"I want to be obliged to you, sweetheart."

He leans forward to let his lips brush over yours.

"Let me," he whispers, and you wrap your arms around him, accepting both his offer and his kiss.

[starry-bi-sky]

Names, Marbles, and Fae-vors - More Lore on my Changeling Danny Au

In my last post I talked about the Infinite Realms and the three different planes existing inside it - the Long Far, Home to the Ancients and Celestial Beings. The Fey Wilds, Home of the Fey and other such Mythological Constructs. And the Ghost Zone, Home to the Mortal Spirits. - as well as three of the different ways beings inside the Infinite Realms can travel between planes; the Lake Portals, the Cave Tunnels, and the Starflare Currents. The Lake Portals and the Cave Tunnels don't have an official term for them yet, but I'll come up with something :).

In this post we'll be talking about some of the abilities of the fey! Specifically the things they're most popularly known for: their name stealing and etiquette thing.

For those who are not as well-versed in Fey Lore, or need a refresher, (and because I just want to yap infodump), one of the first rules you learn when interacting with the Fey is that you never, ever, say "thank you" or "I'm sorry" to them! Which is crazy, because they're really big on etiquette and being polite to each other, which is why one of their epithets is "the Good Neighbor/s". So why should you not say two phrases most commonly used when being polite to someone?

There are two big reasons for this, and the reason I'll be focusing on for this au is because, to the Fey, saying "Thank You" is acknowledgement of a debt that's owed to them. It turns the action or gift into something transactional, and results in a verbal contract that the receiver must then repay later down the line -- and whatever point in time, and with whatever the Fey they are indebted to sees fit. Whether that be food, valuables, or your firstborn child.

The other big reason is because some Fey just think it's rude, and view "thank you" as something that dilutes their act of kindness, and/or implies that they are there to serve you. One of the best summarizations I've seen for fey is that they're bros; they're doing this because they think you're friends -- or something similar to the sort. It's deeply insulting to do all these nice things for a friend, only for that friend to reveal that they don't view you the same way at all.

It's for similar reasons that you also shouldn't say, "I'm sorry" either, except instead of repaying a gift, you are now making reparations for a wrong you have done. A misdeed must be repaid in full, now how are you going to make it up to them? And also because well, I imagine that if saying "thank you" is seen as rude, "I'm sorry" is the exact same way because it dilutes the act.

If you're in a situation where you must say "thank you" or "i'm sorry" there are ways to get around it. "I'm grateful", "you're too kind", "I apologize", or "I feel regret" are just some examples I saw used.

NOW! How is this used in my Changeling AU? The Fey work by these same rules, the only difference is that I've added a physical aspect to it! If Fey are capable of stealing the abstract and turning the incorporeal corporeal, then lets run with it!

"Thank Yous" and "I'm Sorrys" are debts, and Fey can magically bound you into a verbal contract with that alone. However, it's not uncommon -- and actually pretty standard -- for Fey to weave the excess magic of that debt into something physical. They create these delicate-looking, iridescent threads that they then weave into their hair for decoration. And in some areas of the Fey Wilds, use it as a way to show off wealth and/or their own wit.

Ever heard of Fairy Hair? Yeah, same concept.

Debt Threads, as I am temporarily calling them, are thin and airy, and not that much thicker than gossamer. Since it's a debt that is intended to eventually be paid back, it's not practical -- nor is it seen as such -- to use the threads for anything more than temporary cosmetics. As a result, they're usually used for decorating the hair, but some crafty fey use their threads to decorate other appendages, or as form of makeup. Despite their dainty appearance, the threads are actually very sturdy and can only be unweaved by the Fey that created it.

You can, technically, take back your debt thread. However, the threads are made using excess magic of the debt, and not made of the magic of the debt itself, which is why it's so thin and airy. So if you do manage to get it, congrats! All you've got is some pretty string and a pissed off feyrie whose hair you probably just yanked out.

Danny's managed to accrue a few "debts" before he realizes he's a fey, mostly from his friends and sister -- although there are a few from his parents, and some from the other student body from when he was unknowingly and instinctually doing Fey Bullshit. As a result, he starts forcing Sam and Tucker and Jazz to stop thanking him for things, and typically makes them repay him through petty, menial stuff. Like getting him food, or buying him a small but relatively inexpensive trinket he's been eyeing for a while. Never usually anything super important - it's his own way of apologizing for indebting them to him in the first place.

As for his parents... well, he'll hold onto those debts for now. Having a way to magically get them off his back with no questions asked is a boon he's pretty willing to keep close to his chest, and no amount of persuasion will convince him otherwise. Sorry Jazz, Fey side wins out on this one. As for some of the students he's got, Danny manages to psych himself up and release some of them from their contracts without repayment -- even if it makes his bones itch.

AND NOW THE NAMES! You never give a Fey your name because they say everything literally. "Can I have your name?" is a literal question -- they are asking for your name, and thus ownership over you. The other thing is that Names have power, if a fey knows your Full Name they can make you do things for them -- however it goes both ways so you could do the same thing if you learn a Fey's name.

Knowing a Name and owning a Name are two different things, with owning a Name being, naturally, more dangerous as you are basically submitting yourself to permanent indentured servitude, among other things. Knowing a Name can be risky because it results in being more susceptible to fey charms, enchantments, and requests.

But! I digress! Just like how Thank Yous and I'm Sorrys can be turned into a physical object, so can Names! This is not obligatory, nor is it recommended to do often because unlike debt threads, these can be taken back, but it happens!

Names can be trapped in these little, colorful glass-like orbs -- marbles, they're marbles/pearls. They can be trapped in what are basically magic marbles, and just like debt threads, be used for decoration. They're more versatile though, and are used for different things since unlike debt threads, the pearls are meant to be permanent! They make beautiful jewelry, since the pearls come in various different colors depending on the person it once belonged to, and the intent behind its creation.

The marbles have a hard outer shell, with the cores having a fluid, shimmery appearance. Look up liquid core dice, and Name Marbles have a similar appearance, just more... ethereal, with different shades of the same color swirling inside. Not two pearls look the same, and even ones that have similar colors or appearances have subtle differences in them that are imperceptible to the mortal eye. Some pearls look like the deepest trenches of the ocean, blacks and dark blues swirling around each other as flecks of bioluminescence float inside. While others look like a lilac winter sunset, with hand-held purples bleeding into pink and gold.

Convincing Danny to return the Names he's gotten is harder than convincing him to absolve the debts. It takes a lot more psyching up on his part to actually do it, and more verbal coaxing and negotiating on his friends' part. Because on an instinctual fey level, those names are rightfully his. For all intents and purposes, he was given those names freely and without reservation, and so to be told that he has to return what were essentially gifts to him is... deeply distressing.

Lots of cognitive dissonance there. His human-raised brain and morals know why he needs to give them back, and he feels bad for owning them. But his new changeling-baby fey-brain is deeply upset at the prospect, and is a liittle bit stronger than the once-human part of him. He rapidly becomes overwhelmed when trying to convince himself to return the Names. He does, eventually, end up doing it, but he's unwillingly upset the whole time.