#so I am not going to complain about consumer protections

[21st-century-minutiae]

In the early twenty-first century United States, financial and medical institutions have legal restrictions on communicating with consumers. Private communication involving financial or medical records can come through physical mail or through private internal messaging systems. Regular email, convenient as it is, does not meet the legal requirements, so bank statements cannot be sent by email.

What can be sent by email, however, is notification of the existence of a message on the bank's internal system. This lets people know that they need to log in to the bank institution to see the message. Because of the requirements, the details are intentionally left vague to avoid giving any information of note to any potential interceptor.

As with most forms of mail and email, financial institutions frequently have messages that are not bank statements, such as introductions, terms and conditions changes, offers, etc. While all of these can be sent via email, it is less work for them to use the internal messaging service they control, and to let the automated "you have a message" email get sent out.

The above is an example of observational comedy that people in the early twenty-first century would have ample experience with.

[voulezloux]

v

[vrystalius]

The demon outside my bedroom

(Kokushibo x hashira!fem!reader, slight spoilers for his backstory)

Every night, at the exact same time, you would hear a soft knock on your bedroom door. A large, dark figure stood in your garden, waiting to be let inside. But after sliding your door aside, you were greeted by your boyfriend’s six eyes staring back at you.

“My moonlight.”

His voice was deep and would rumble in his chest, making you shiver. After inviting your demon inside, the bedroom lights would illuminate his face. Six eyes staring expectantly at you, waiting for something. As a sign of trust, the demon would close his upper and lower two eyes, only leaving the ones in the center. He looked less demonic, perhaps he’s trying to please you by trying to look more human?

“Kokushibo.”

Your voice felt like a soothing melody to him. It calmed his mind, soul and body in an instant. When you cup Kokushibo’s cheeks, he fully leaned into your touch. He misses being with you during the day and having you close to him. Kokushibo leaned closer to your face, admiring your features. When his lips met yours, Kokushibo sighed softly. Your lips felt warm and moist, so welcoming. So intoxicating.

His cold hands would carefully hover over your neck, slowly setting down on your collarbone. Kokushibo opened all six of his eyes and let his mind engrave a portrait of you into his memory. He cannot remember his late wife, kids, friends or family. Just of his damned brother. But he wants to remember you, so that when the time comes that you are not around, Kokushibo would cherish every single memory, every single time he saw your face, felt your hands, lips, hair, for all eternity.

Ever since Kokushibo fell for you, he followed Akaza’s path and avoided eating women, and eating humans entirely. He tries to deprave himself from consuming human flesh until he absolutely needs it. He feels like he would dirty or taint you if he kisses you with the same mouth he consumes humans with. Luckily, Muzan hasn’t noticed his new diet yet. Or rather the lack of it.

Kokushibo is an extremely jealous man, and even thinking about other hashira flirting with you, makes him feel incredible rage. You can’t tell any of your colleagues about your relationship since you can’t really openly talk about dating the number 2 worst enemy of you all. So instead of telling your hashira with words that you are not single, Kokushibo took it upon himself to demonstrate it on your body.

He will nibble and kiss your whole neck, leaving obvious hickeys in places where you cannot hide them. Kokushibo enjoys making you squirm while he does this, taking pleasure from your whining and complaining. He will hold you close, holding you by your waist and neck while doing this affectionate assault.

Your skin is the sweetest, forbidden fruit he has ever tasted, and Kokushibo is incredibly grateful that he is the only man that ever experience you like this. He will make sure that he is going to be the only and the last man to ever experience you like this.

“My moon, my dearest moonlight. You are mine and I am yours, and I swear to protect you for all eternity.

💠

I’ll probably make this into a mini series, and I’ll write something similar for the other Upper Moons and Muzan. Perhaps, if someone requests it, I’ll do something similar for the hashira and a demon reader. I would like to credit my cat as a co-author.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK.

Take care of yourselves <3

The demon that… masterlist

[threepandas]

Bad End, Chosen: Part 4

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The Cycles never "loaded" back in at quite the same point. It was something I had noticed, though I had only suffered a few of them so far. It was like the God's were hoping "Chapter" to "Chapter", fickle and easily bored, trying desperately to find something NEW.

It made planning all but impossible.

Where... where was I?

A simple room. A suitcase before me. Loading or unloading? I held a robe in my hands. Painfully familiar. I had worn them for years. The highly protective robes of Mage initiates, at the Magic Tower. Meant to work as armor, life support, even... God's forbid, an emergency beacon. They were hideous. Function over form.

I could cry, for how deeply I loved these ugly robes.

No one had EVER been able to figure out how to style them properly. God's know, we had TRIED. But when The Dark came? This ugly, ugly things? These long complained about hand-me-downs? Oh... oh they had saved so, SO many student's lives.

Such tiny little things. Pulled from the rubble, still breathing. All because of these chaotic, gaudy, terribly comfortable and so deeply loved, old robes. T...They truely were as hideous as I remembered, weren't they? Blocks upon blocks of overlapping stitches and patches, too many colors, as though the tower was too stubborn to throw as single thing away.

We were.

We... we NEVER leave anything or anyONE behind.

Packrats, all of us. Such terrible hoarders. But... I looked around. It did not tell me the date. Was I leaving? Joining the tower? How old was I supposed to be? I pulled on my robes.

It felt like coming home. Like balm against the raw nerves of my still fragile mind. I felt old. Brittle. At... at terrible odds, with my young skin. I wondered if this was how she felt. The woman, the poor girl, that came before me. Before she broke so badly even the God's could not force her to perform. I did not want to admit I understood the impulse.

Ah, there.

I had once, what felt like lifetimes ago. What WAS lifetimes ago. Bought this very calander. It was cute. Little fairy dragons danced upon the edges, delicate and joyous. They were, of course, incorrectly drawn. The artist had never seen a real fairy dragon, only heard of them. I had seen some during the war.

People forget that neither the Fae nor Dragons are sweet or gentle things.

They were... Awe inspiring. In the oldest sense of the world. "An overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, and fear." I believe the text defined it. Like living starlight and glass, sung poetry and water. They were the fury of long dead gods and the vengeance of beings who were divine unto themselves.

They removed an entire MOUNTAIN RANGE before they fell. Burned and reduced to molten earth, an entire inland sea. They died like STARS. Violently and with a force that destroyed the void itself. Consuming all that dared stand in their shadow.

Ha. And people think they're CUTE.

Ah...my mind is wandering again. I try to concentrate on the calendar. My... my mind doesn't want too. Oh dear. That's... that's probably a rather bad sign, isn't it?

Opening my eyes at the beginning of the cycle had brough such... CLARITY. As though my head had been held under murky water and finally, FINALLY, I was able to scramble free. But... much like the drowned... I felt something like a high. Adrift. Without my anchor. I wanted my Gran-...

NO.

I grab the dresser before me. Hard enough my knuckles go white. My wide eyes focus far away. Seeing without seeing. Hyperfocused on the woodgrain before me. I am my OWN anchor. Feel the magic in your veins. The push and pull of the world. We are not his slave! Not his PET, to keep and cherish. A toy on a shelf.

I am a PERSON.

I DEFY MY FATE.

A cheerful knock at the door to my room. My eyes finally focusing on the date. Fuck. Moving IN, then. I do not know if I can act "normal". I... I will have to try. I can not unclench my jaw, but with great force of will, finger by finger, I release my grip on the dresser. Stand up. Glance up into the mirror.

I look like I am some hateful little thing, vowing some ugly little vengeance. Perhaps it is just my face. The way anger and spite only barely holds my bleeding edges together. My fear. I...I look like I am about to cry.

What a wretched child.

I try to force a smile.

It looks hideous. More ugly grimace and deep disgust then "oh, Master, how pleased I am to see you!". Fuck. When did I become so broken? A knock again. More hesitant. I breathe deep. I can not do cheerful, then. But...I... I can do nothing.

My face slides into an emotionless mask. Blank. Like a doll. Vaguely pleasant but meaningless. How damningly familiar. Gran-... HE reduced me to this in the end. A few steps. Almost distant, robotic, movement. And I open the door to a once familiar face.

"Learner." My Master smiles, awkward and uncertain. He had not wanted a student. I forced his hand. I know now I never should have done so. He was not ready. "Are you, um, settling? In? I know it is quite different from the life you once lived, but I promise. I will tale care of you. Well figure this out together."

Oh, Master.

I...I wish I could weep. I had forgotten this lie. How deeply I had once believed it. It was a child's promise, from a man who grew old but never, truely, grew up. I was to be failed again and again. Had once given him chance after chance. Because I had believed his words. My eyes feel hot. He looks panicked.

"Ah! W-what did I do? Was that wrong? Please don't cry?! Oh no! Uuuuh-!"

"Well THIS is a record. Not even a day and you've made the child weep." Comes a terrible voice. No. Please, Gods. Not so soon. "Here I am, come to greet my precious Grandlearner. And what do I find? My student, tormenting a child."

My Master sputters defenses of himself. Not even noticing that his own Master did not call him Learner. All but disowned him before me. My fear howls like a deafening beast in my ears. But... cowering? Will not... can not save me. Turning my head is almost painful, with how tightly my muscles have tensed.

That is not the look of a man who does not recognize me.

He remembers.

Alaric Blight stands in truely magnificent Tower Master's robes, as though he has every right to be there. Respected. Beloved. A legendary talent, the likes of which have not been seen for lifetimes. ANYONE would be HONORED to be in his presence. After all... he is a man who holds the world at his feet.

He is a monster.

"Hello Grandlearner," he all but purrs. Stalking forward to loom, as only an adult CAN loom over a child. The power difference between is even greater now. I can not even count myself an ant before him. I... I can not breathe. "What a delicate little thing you are. Utterly precious. And so SMALL! You certainly have a lot of training to do, don't you?"

His hand reaches forward to cup my cheek, sparks of deadly magic dancing lazily across my skin too finely for Master to notice, but not so fine I can not FEEL. It is a subtle threat. A little reminder. Not a single soul in this tower is safe, so long as he is here. All it would take? Is.. Just. One. Touch~

"I'm sure you'll BEHAVE for your Master, WONT you, Dear? After all, he only wants what's best for you. And a darling child like you, Grandlearner? Should be cherished."

"He's right." My Master said, clueless to the monster he let so close. Who so very dispised him. "But... but Master, I'm not sure, well, HOW exactly..."

"Oh don't worry, student of mine." Alaric Blight, monster of my nightmares, hummed in a laughable mimicry of pleasantries. "I'll be with you EVERY step of the way. How could do anything less? We'll train my darling Grandlearner together."

A terrible grin.

"Leave everything to me."

[warping-realities]

2k Special - Coach Knows Best: Tight Ends

So we’ve come to the end of the 2k special. I’d like to thank again @johnbrand and @mrrharper for letting me borrow one of their ideas, but especially the great @callmecallmecrazy who I’ve been following for almost 20 years (I was underage and shouldn’t have been, but still). The Jocking has been and still is one of the most impressive things ever written in our niche; it’s not just about transformation, there’s a plot, character development and a cohesive story, and it’s something I’ve always tried to follow while writing my own work. Here, I made a little homage to his seminal work and to Clifton Jocks, which I’ll say for the thousandth time is my favorite story of all time and an impressive demonstration of developing writing skills.

Lastly, there’s a pun (or more) in the title of this story. 🙃

Just two days before the final game of the season, Steele sat in the stillness of his home, the weight of his thoughts pressing down like a heavy fog. The transformation of Tyler had been a double-edged sword. On one hand, he had become the player Steele always knew he could be. On the other, the pressure of the BACS protocol loomed ominously over everything. As he contemplated for the millionth time how to navigate the challenges ahead, his phone buzzed violently against the wooden surface of the table in front of him shattering the quiet.

Startled, he reached for his phone, glancing at the caller ID. It was Jenkins. The feeling of unease settled deeper in his gut as he answered. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with tension.

“Steele, we’ve got a situation,” Jenkins said, his tone serious. “Lee Dawson has gone missing from his dorm at college. He was supposed to hit up a study group and now no one’s seen him.”

Steele’s heart raced. “What do you mean missing? How long has it been since anyone last saw him?”

“Just a few hours, but it’s enough to raise alarms. From what I gathered from my guys on the team, he’d been complaining about his brother’s behavior for days, saying Tyler was acting weird. At my request, they pressed Lee for any major signs that a glitch was popping up in the BACS protocol, but whenever pressed, he backed down. There was nothing to suggest any major failure or need for intervention so far.

“I told you Lee is smart and you know why BACS has fallen out of favor, and yet you insisted. What the hell do you expect me to do now to clean up your mess?”

“What I want is for you to keep an eye out. It seems like Lee is gonna go searching for his brother or even come to you. In that case, you need to find out what’s going on. This could have serious implications,” Jenkins urged, his voice quickening.

“Implications? What the hell are you talking about?” Steele shot back, a sense of dread creeping into his thoughts. The last thing he wanted was to be linked to the board’s experiments or Tyler’s recent transformation if shit hit the fan.

“Let’s be real, Steele. If the government finds out what we did with BACS, we could all be in deep trouble. You need to act fast. In the worst-case scenario, you’re authorized to use BACS on the older Dawson.” Jenkins warned, urgency unmistakable in his voice.

“That won’t be necessary. I’m on it, but I warned you, Jenkins, you idiot!” Steele replied, his mind racing. He couldn’t let this situation spiral out of control. As he hung up the phone, he felt the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. He had to find and protect Lee, and somehow make him understand the whole program before the kid, who was Steele’s greatest pride, ended up consumed by it like his brother had.

Steele woke up before dawn, the clock reading 4 AM. He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, battling the heavy feeling that seemed to have settled in his mind. The morning darkness enveloped the room as his thoughts churned about Lee and Tyler. It was a constant struggle between the determination to keep his legacy as a coach intact and the guilt that consumed him.

He got up and started his morning routine. The first task was to run. He laced up his running shoes, threw on a simple T-shirt, and headed out, feeling the cold morning air against his face. Each step took him further away from his worries, and he tried to keep a steady pace. Running had always been his way to release built-up tension, but today felt harder. His thoughts kept drifting back to Tyler’s situation and what he could have done differently.

After 30 minutes of running, Steele finished his routine with calisthenics. Push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups; all done in silence, but his mind was far from what he was doing. He felt like a robot, following a routine without really being present. The joy he used to feel while working out was missing, replaced by a sense of emptiness.

With sweat dripping down his face, he returned home and made breakfast. He brewed a strong cup of black coffee, letting the dark liquid fill the mug. Coffee, once a comforting ritual, now tasted bland, as if bitterness had seeped into his life. He served himself an absurd amount of food: eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit. But even while eating, he couldn’t savor the meal. Each bite felt like an obligation, a meaningless ritual.

After breakfast, he shaved, staring at his reflection in the mirror, noticing the deep circles under his eyes. “What the hell happened to me?” he thought, doubt creeping into his mind. He had been a passionate coach, someone who inspired his players to become the best versions of themselves. Now, he found himself trapped in a cycle of manipulation and politics that was corroding his soul.

After getting ready, Steele finally left for school, his car cutting through the quiet morning. But upon arriving at the school parking lot, he hesitated. He stopped the car and sat there, watching the students arrive, the laughter and chatter floating in the air. He felt like a spectator in his own world.

“How did I end up here?” he murmured to himself. He remembered when everything seemed so simple, when his love for football was pure and genuine. He had a dream: to turn young athletes into champions, to guide them through hardships, and help them shine. But over time, he became obsessed with winning, accepting the machinations of the board, believing it was all worth it. He convinced himself he was offering insignificant kids the chance to experience the same glories he had. But now, after what happened with Tyler, those certainties were crumbling. The kid had been the kind of athlete who, with the right encouragement and training, could have been for the Tight Ends what Brock Purdy was for quarterbacks: a last pick with seemingly no shine but whose effort and skill landed him a spot on one of the big league teams. Now? Sure, the kid was great, almost perfect. No doubt he’d shine, but it’d be an artificial shine, risking being marked more by a influencer life than what he did on the field, more like a Garoppolo than a Purdy. And then there was Lee, the incredible Lee, Steele’s greatest victory, shaped just right, now at risk of going through the same shit as his brother. Thinking about that made Steele’s gut churn, and a new determination surged within him. He could lose everything, but he was going to make sure Lee wouldn’t get caught up in this, even if it meant making some subtle tweaks, a little memory alteration… maybe something to boost his stats before the Combine… Then, without realizing the hypocrisy and contradiction in his own way of thinking, the coach let out a long sigh and headed off to start the day’s work.

…..

The locker room was in a state of controlled chaos. The boys on the team were undressing and getting ready to put on their practice uniforms. The distinct smell of deodorant mixed with male sweat hung in the air, and the atmosphere was filled with laughter and teasing.

“Look who’s here! The king of farts!” Trey shouted, letting out a loud fart. The room erupted in laughter, and the boys started mimicking fart sounds.

“For God’s sake, dude! You need a deodorant for your ass!” Connor teased, making everyone laugh even harder.

Rafael, always ready to stand out, raised his hands as if he was about to make a speech. “Attention, attention! The champion of burps is here!” He then let out a burp so loud it echoed through the locker room, causing another wave of laughter.

“You and your special talents, Rafe. One day you’re gonna win an award for that!” Miguel joked, while getting dressed. “Most retarded award!”

The boys continued to talk nonsense, sharing stories about weekend parties, the girls they had hooked up with, and the drunken escapades they had. The vibe was carefree, a celebration of the brotherhood that existed among them, but also tinged with machismo and arrogance.

“Dude, did you see the new cheerleader? The transfer girl, blonde with blue eyes?” Miguel commented, winking at the others. “She was totally checking me out during practice. Bet she’s in love with me!”

“Probably out of pity for your malnourished state!” Adam replied, laughing. “But it’s true, she’s hot. I’d hit that too.”

“Malnourished? I’m ripped, you fatass!”

“That’s just jealousy of my muscles, scrawny boy?”

“Jealousy is what you have of my abs, fatty!”

As the chatter continued, Tyler, sitting a bit further away, looked at Brock with a frustrated expression while tying his cleats. “Man, my brother’s been an ass lately. Lee’s always been a bit too uptight, but lately, he’s just straight-up unbearable,” Tyler said, trying to keep his tone light, but irritation was evident.

“Like, he keeps nagging me about my grades, and I can’t deal with it anymore. I stopped replying to his texts. I’ve told him Cs get degrees,” he vented, his voice dropping lower, almost lost in the locker room noise.

“Well, the problem is you hardly ever get Cs, do you?”

“As if you’re any better, you dumbass. You know Coach is gonna sort this out and we’re all gonna get into college with football scholarships. But for Lee, that’s not enough; it’s like he wanted another brother instead of me.”

Brock looked at Tyler, sensing his frustration. “Dude, I get it. It’s tough when you have a brother who seems to be trying to control you. But at the same time, he just wants what’s best for you, right? Maybe he’s just worrying too much.”

“Maybe… but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s being a total pain. He doesn’t know how to have fun. It’s like he thinks life is only about training and studying,” Tyler replied, shaking his head, visibly irritated.

“Man, you need to put him in his place then. One day, he’s gonna realize life isn’t just about work. You gotta enjoy the journey too, just like we do here on the team!” Brock said, trying to encourage Tyler to feel better about the situation.

“Whatever, maybe I should try talking to him again, but just thinking about it makes me tired,” Tyler mumbled, crossing his arms.

What the boys didn’t realize was that Coach Steele had entered the locker room just as the conversation was heating up.

“Is that what I heard, Tyler?” Steele asked, his gaze fixed on the young man. “You’ve been ignoring your brother?”

Tyler hesitated before answering. “Uh… I’m just tired of hearing the same old shit, coach. He just wants me to fit into the image he has of me. I just wanted some space,” he said, trying to justify his behavior.

Steele shook his head, arms crossed over his chest. “Look, Tyler, you might not like what Lee has to say, but he’s your brother. What he wants is what any brother wants: the best for you. Ignoring his texts isn’t the solution. You might not realize it, but he cares about you,” Steele said, his voice firm.

“Yeah, I know. I just… I just need some space, that’s all,” Tyler muttered, a bit frustrated.

“I get that you need space, but that doesn’t mean you should push him away. Promise me one thing, if he tries to reach out again, don’t ignore him, but more importantly, I want you to tell me right away,” Steele said, with a serious look. “Now, let’s go, finish getting ready. It’s almost time for practice.”

The boys nodded, and the conversation quickly dissipated as they hurried to get ready. When everyone was ready, they headed out to the field. The sun was shining brightly, and the energy of the team was palpable. Steele watched as the players lined up, each carrying a confidence that was contagious. He felt a little lighter, even knowing the precarious situation he was in.

“Today’s the last practice before the finals,” Steele began, capturing everyone’s attention. “That means we need to give it everything we’ve got. Remember, the opposing team is gonna come onto the field wanting to take us down. But they’re gonna face the Titans, and we’re gonna show them what that means!”

The players shouted in response, adrenaline coursing through their veins. The practice began and Steele moved around the field, watching every move, every play. The boys were in sync, their skills at their peak and their energies channeled toward a common goal. Steele watched it all with a satisfied smile. The hard work and dedication were paying off. He remembered his own experiences and what it meant to form a cohesive team. “Great job, boys!” he shouted, as the players regrouped in the locker room after practice. “You’re ready to face the Knights! What we saw today was magnificent. Each of you gave your best. Remember, tomorrow is the big day. You have a chance to show everyone what it means to be a Titan.”

The players shouted in response, the spirit of unity filling the air. “One last thing: rest up! I don’t want to hear that anyone partied or drank alcohol before the finals. If you do, I’ll skin you alive!”

Laughter and shouts spread through the locker room, but Steele’s seriousness conveyed the message that he truly cared. The boys knew he was there to guide them and protect what they had built together.

With practice wrapped up, the players dispersed, ready to rest up and prepare for the big game.

…

Night fell, and as the city prepared for the game the next day, Tyler lay in bed, heart racing and mind full of expectations. He knew he had a role to play, and he was determined to do it to the best of his ability. In the darkness of his room he was lost in thought, recalling the day’s practices and what awaited him in the big game.

At that moment, Lee walked into the room unannounced, his expression serious. “Tyler, we need to talk,” he said, looking intently at his brother.

Tyler frowned. “Lee? WTF? What are you doing here? What’s wrong?”

“You. Something’s not right with you,” Lee replied, worry evident in his voice. “I can’t pinpoint what it is, but I feel like something’s changed.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tyler asked, confused and a little irritated. “I’m great! I’m about to crush it in the game tomorrow!”

Lee shook his head, frustration growing. “It’s not that, Tyler! It’s like you’re… different. Like you’re not really you. I… I’m worried.”

“What the hell, Lee? Who else could I be? And worried? You don’t know anything about me! I’m never good enough for you, right? You’ve always been the favorite, the family talent!” Tyler shouted, anger boiling over. “But I’m gonna prove to everyone that I’m better than you, that I’m the best player!”

Lee looked at him, pain in his eyes. “Tyler, I’ve never cared about that. For me, there’s never been a competition between us. I just wanted you to be happy in your own way. You don’t have to try to be what I am or what you think everyone expects from you. What matters is that you’re yourself.”

“You don’t get it! I can’t just be me, with a Mr. Perfect brother I always have to be the better! And now that I’m finally getting attention, I can’t let it slip away!” Tyler shot back, his voice filled with frustration.

“I… I think I understand more than you realize,” Lee said, sadness weighing on his words.

“You’re not making sense, Lee! I just want to be recognized, and that involves winning! For me, that’s everything!” Tyler replied, anger replacing insecurity.

“I really thought I could trust him… I don’t know what I can do to help you, but I’ll try. Just know that I love you, little bro. I hope that next time we see each other, we can recognize each other for who we really are.”

Tyler sat there, alone, frustration and confusion flooding his mind. Until a memory popped into his head. He grabbed his phone and called Coach Steele. “Coach, I… I need to talk to you,” he said as soon as the call connected.

“Sure, Tyler. What’s up?” Steele replied, his voice calm and attentive.

“It’s about Lee. He was just here… and he doesn’t seem right; he said a bunch of nonsensical things… he thinks something’s wrong with me, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I act all tough, like I’m the best Dawson, but the truth is, Lee is my biggest inspiration, and seeing him like this… please help him!” Tyler poured out, tension evident in his voice.

“Tyler, I need you to try to remember what else your brother said. Did he say where he was going?” Steele asked, his voice now more concerned.

“I don’t know, coach. No, he didn’t say. He just mentioned he thought he could trust someone and that… that he’d try to help me… and that he hoped next time we met, we could… recognize each other. I have no idea what he meant by that.”

“I do. Try to calm down and get some sleep; tomorrow is the big day, and I promise everything will be alright. Better yet, Lee will be there to watch you shine, trust me!”

“Always, Coach!”

…

Steele hung up the phone, poured a generous shot of bourbon into two glasses, and waited for Lee. It seemed the time had come for him to answer for his choices in front of one of the few people he cared about in this world.

….

Lee walked toward Steele’s mansion, his heart racing and his mind a whirlwind of emotions. The worry for Tyler consumed him, and his brother’s words echoed in his head. “What’s wrong with him? Or is it me? Ty is right; I’m not making any sense! Still, I know… that’s not who he should be!” Lee thought, feeling frustrated for not being able to understand what was happening, but he knew there was someone who understood and worse, could be responsible for it all. As he walked, fear and frustration overwhelmed him. For it wasn’t the first time he felt that way; if he had done something sooner… maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to go through this with his own brother.

As Lee walked through the familiar streets, he couldn't help but remember those times he felt that same awkwardness when he was on the team. Not in the same creepy way as now, but it was there, this uneasy feeling, as his teammates came and went. He figured it was 'cause he never really clicked with the others off the field; his life was all about discipline, totally grinding to improve. His body was a temple, and football was his religion. Of course, there was the Pastor: Steele. They had a tight bond, with the coach filling the gap left by his dad when he bailed on the family. Maybe that’s why Lee ignored what his gut was telling him every time a new player joined the team. It’s also why he asked Steele to treat Tyler the same way he treated him. Now, Lee felt like a total fool for thinking Steele would keep that promise. The coach was the one who drilled into him the idea of winning at all costs... he just chose to overlook that to Steele “at all costs” also included everyone else. And now, his brother was paying the price for that mistake.

Standing in front of the big mansion gate, Lee felt a chill in his stomach. Without doing anything, it opened, and he walked up to the porch where the imposing figure of Steele awaited him.

“Lee, I was expecting you,” Steele said, his expression serious. “Sit down and grab a glass.” The man settled into a magnificent leather armchair and pointed to a glass of bourbon.

“You know I don’t drink. My diet is strict to not affect my performance. Besides, I need to know, what did you do to my brother?”

“To explain what happened to Tyler, I need to tell you a very long story. And I know you don’t drink, kid, but trust me, with what we need to talk about, you’re gonna need it.”

Lee complied, but the tension in the air was palpable.

“Coach, I don’t need a story; I need to know what happened to my brother… more than that… I need to know who my brother really is… or I think I’m gonna lose my mind… I need you to reverse what you did.”

“It’s not that simple, kid. What you’re asking isn’t impossible, but highly unlikely. So I need you to understand. And to understand, I need to tell you everything from the beginning, so please take a sip and listen.”

Still reluctant, Lee conceded and positioned himself to hear his former coach, feeling the drink burn his throat and warm his stomach.

“Good, good. The story I’m about to tell you starts way before Tyler, you and even me. Back in the mid-2000s, a decline in the number of young men dedicating themselves to contact sports, notably football, began to be noticed. You might question this info due to what came shortly after, but trust me, it’s real. Continuing, due to this decline, a group formed that is now known as The Board, whose goal was to find ways to prevent this decline from becoming irreversible. And thus, the so-called Enhancement Protocols emerged. Due to the shady nature of such protocols, it was established that the test fields would be some schools across the country and always with individuals over 18. Colleges would be a highly unfeasible field, and the NFL, with all its scrutiny, would be unthinkable. What happened next was… revolutionary but also opened the doors to a true hell.” Steele said, pausing to take a long sip of his own drink before continuing.

“In one location where I have no access, one of the coaches responsible found gold. A way to alter the very fabric of reality and turn insignificant kids into perfect players. The techniques used were multiple as long as there was a catalyst; clothing, food, even the presence of another altered player was enough to modify an unsuspecting target. It was groundbreaking. But there were two problems: it messed with things that shouldn’t be messed with. A bunch of mumbo jumbo occult stuff whose details are better left unsaid. The other problem is that he went rogue. The modified players of his spread like a wildfire, hitting colleges and schools all over the country to the point that the fabric of reality became so thin it allowed certain things that should’ve stayed out to come in. At that time, I was already playing for the Eagles, and I’d like to believe the NFL wasn’t affected, but I can’t know, the man’s insanity was that great. The Board can’t say for sure, nor can the government, because the one who finally ended that coach’s megalomania was an apparently ordinary individual, but whom I believe is still imbued with more power than any man should have. But thanks to him, reality got back to how it should’ve been, that is, more or less…” Steele let out a long sigh before continuing.

“The kid had no way of knowing about the board’s existence, and it reestablished itself, and from what was left of that mad coach’s work, developed the current protocols.” Steele continued with a serious air.

“I discovered the protocols in my first year as a coach. At that time, the board was still being inconspicuous, the group that took down the coach I mentioned was still active. Initially, I was against using such methods. But the decline of the 2000s was nothing compared to the mid-decade past. Suddenly, kids became these delicate little flowers that can’t handle anything, snowflakes is the term you’ll hear the most. A lot of people associate this with sexuality. Frankly, I don’t give a damn who you fuck with. But watching a bunch of crybabies dominate the school hallways while my team, a place where real men were being formed, dwindled to the point of risking disappearing? I couldn’t accept that. So I let the board into my life and my Titans. Initially only to fill some gaps, cover some deficiencies. I justified it to myself. But over time I used the protocols more and more to the point of having no justifications. Not that I cared anymore, because the Titans had become the team I always thought it should be…

“You… I… did you do something to me?” Lee asked, his voice trembling.

“No, you, Lee, you were a gift to me, a perfect player with no need for intervention, totally focused and dedicated, even not fitting into certain specifications of the board. Specifications I never cared about, by the way. But even the board never dared to ask me to intervene with you given your impressive stats. And I don’t know if I would’ve done anything, even if they asked. The truth is, you reminded me of myself, and I would’ve never had the guts to do anything to you. But then came Tyler. Tyler was a younger version of you, unfortunately without the same impressive talent. Not that the kid lacked talent, but it just wasn’t enough. And the board intervened in the worst way possible. Right before you left for college, taking advantage of the calm environment after so many years acting in the shadows, the they became bold. They developed a method that traded the elegance and subtlety of the previous ones for a much faster and seemingly just as effective one. They called it the BACS Protocol, a stupid acronym that doesn’t matter right now. What’s important is that with this protocol, all it takes is a signal sent by a simple smartphone to a previously exposed individual to a catalyst that can even be dispersed in the air around him, and out of nowhere you have a perfect player ready under all the specifications of the council. To avoid a bunch of clones walking around, the signal uses the player’s own perceptions of what each of the acronym’s specifications represents and uses the individual’s genetic base to update him. For someone like you or Tyler, this can be… disturbing, a change so fast and radical in the fabric of reality without a safer catalyst, an anchor. See, with a stable enough catalyst even the transformed's family members can be modified to better fit their new narrative. BACS has no such capability, which in retrospect may have been a blessing, just thinking about what could have happened to you... sorry, I lost focus. The truth is that unlike safer methods this absence leads to some glitches. Like the ones you’ve been feeling.”

“You mean to say that Tyler…?”

“Yeah… the protocol was shut down due to failures, but for some obtuse reason, the board decided to pick it back up and Tyler was chosen as an example.”

“And you didn’t do a damn thing???” Lee asked, outraged. “You just let my brother be taken like a pig to slaughter? And turned him into this?”

“That’s still your brother, just like many of your teammates with whom you sweat and bled for victory. They’re still people, Lee, with dreams and desires. You might even disagree with their way of life, but don’t treat them like things.”

“I can’t believe the size of your hypocrisy!”

“Yeah, I’m a hypocrite. But I’ve always treated my players the same, the naturals and the modified ones; to me, there’s no difference between them. Except for you, like BACS has its glitches, you were mine.”

“Then help me, help revert what happened to Tyler!”

“It’s harder than you can imagine, Lee. There’s someone out there with that capability, but you don’t want to get in his way!”

“Why not?”

“Because he would destroy everything I’ve built, everything you know too, because that’s his mission. And I can’t allow that.”

“And what’s stopping me from going after this guy on my own?”

“The fact that you ingested a high dose of the catalyst compound and are in the presence of a very strong physical catalyst right next to you, namely me. I swear I’d rather not do this to you, but after letting what happened to Tyler happen, it’s better this way. I promise the only thing that will change for you is accepting reality and Tyler as they are now!”

Upon hearing that, Lee tried to move, but it felt like he was glued to the chair, as if trapped in an invisible trap. While Coach Steele, the man he considered a substitute father, betrayed him a second time.

Seated, paralyzed in that armchair, Lee felt a strange pressure in his body, followed by a wave of heat, and then the first transformation took over his arms, which began to swell, the muscles expanding under the skin. He looked down, perplexed, as his biceps became so bulky with muscles and fat they seemed ready to burst through the shirt he wore. Seeing that, Steele’s eyes widened, and he shouted: “That wasn’t supposed to happen!” But as he tried to get up and somehow intervene, he found himself glued to his own seat. With nothing left to do, the coach watched in growing panic as what came next unfolded.

As he struggled to comprehend what was happening, Lee's legs began to change too. His already huge thighs swelled even more, becoming the size of tree trunks, while a layer of fat started to accumulate, softening the sharp lines he had worked so hard to achieve. Lee felt a mix of horror and a strange pleasure as that transformation unfolded, as if his body were rebelling against his will.

“Lee, you need to resist!” Coach Steele shouted, but his voice sounded distant and powerless, for he knew there was nothing that could be done.

The pressure in his abdomen intensified, and Lee could feel his belly protruding. The famous eight-pack he valued so much was disappearing, replaced by a still firm belly, but now with a more robust appearance, a true muscle gut. He felt as if he were in a nightmare, struggling against the waves of transformation that dominated him. As he attempted to speak, a loud burp escaped involuntarily… buuuuuuurp…

“This can’t be happening!”, Steele repeated, thrashing in his chair. As the change reached Lee’s face, his jaw became more square momentarily only to be hidden by a layer of fat, and then by a thick, scruffy beard. The straight, well-kept hair he always sported now fell in messy locks, giving him a wild look. Lee tried to protest once more, but another burp escaped, and he felt even more frustrated. “Why is this happening?!” confusion dominating his thoughts.

The changes reached his feet, once slender, now starting to expand, going from a respectable size 11 to a gigantic size 15, ripping the sneakers he wore, each thick toe covered with a layer of dark hair. His firm, muscular backside turned into a big cushion. Coach Steele, watching in a mix of horror and despair, shook his head. “No, Lee! Please, no! What have I done?!” he shouted, his voice trembling. The horror of the situation enveloped him, and he felt powerless, unable to help.

As the transformation peaked, Lee found himself in a more muscular and robust body, more like an offensive guard than a tight end. Not that he could think of that, for at that moment, his mind was invaded by conflicting information. The strict diet with complex carbs and high-quality proteins and zero alcohol was replaced by a ogre diet and occasional binge drinking, nothing that would harm the team, but off-season is off-season for a reason. The obsession with being the best remained, but the way of looking at it shifted from almost military-level self-demand to the belief that he would be the best because he always had been; it was inherent to him. The serious and even somber demeanor was replaced by a carefree joy and an unshakeable teenage humor. As a smile spread across his face, it was all over. There was nothing else Steele could do, even if he managed to move, which was still impossible for him.

Lee’s worried and quick thoughts were replaced by an almost absolute relaxation; he was someone who knew his place and what he had to do. Anyone looking from the outside would have the impression of a big teddy bear, but once against him, they’d see he was, in fact, a raging grizzly bear when on the field.

With a carefree attitude, he looked at himself. His clothes were bursting at the seams, the fabric struggling to keep up with the growth of his new body. His shirt was stretched so tight it looked like it could rip at any moment, while his shorts looked more like strips than actual clothing. What the hell had happened? But before he could even think of worrying, his gut acted up, and Lee let out a loud and uncontrollable fart, while the room echoed with the sound he burst into laughter, any trace of horror turning into a moment of pure joy.

As Lee reveled in his new form, patting his powerful gut with a goofy grin on his face, Coach Steele just watched, horrified and powerless. “What have I done...,” he murmured, his mind whirling around the implications of his pupil’s transformation.

Without either man noticing, Jenkins entered the room just as Lee’s transformation completed. He observed the now-imposing young man with his muscular and robust body. A satisfied smile spread across his face. “What did you do?” Jenkins said, with a tone of disdain, startling Steele, who hadn’t seen the sly man but realized at that moment who was truly behind what had happened. “Just what you should’ve done a long time ago. But the specifications weren’t yours.”

Jenkins then turned to Lee, who now looked like a true giant. “Hey, Bull Dawg, how’s it going?” he asked, the provocation evident in his voice.

Lee, exuding the chill vibe that now surrounded him, smiled back. “I’m feeling kinda funny,” he replied, as he stood up and admired himself in one of the mirrors in the room.

“Must be all the whiskey you’ve been drinking,” Jenkins remarked, laughing. “You’ve always been the type to not miss a chance to have fun.”

Lee shot a quick glance at Jenkins, winking playfully. “You know me too well,” he replied, flexing his huge arms and biceps, completely ruining the shirt he wore and exposing his powerful pecs and exuberant muscle gut covered in wild hair.

"Alright, alright. Now, if you’ll excuse me," Jenkins said, turning to Lee, "Steele and I need to hash out some big kid stuff."

"Whatever," Lee shot back, all nonchalant. "But I’m taking the whiskey with me." He turned, the power of his new, impressive body filling the space around him as he grabbed the bottle of bourbon but no glass.

Jenkins and Steele watched as Lee strutted out of the room, one with a smug grin and the other with a dead-serious look. The giant’s heavy footsteps echoed on the floor, his muscular back and well-defined glutes becoming a spectacle in their own right, while the shorts several sizes too small threatened to rip with every step those powerful bare feet took.

“A true masterpiece.” Jenkins said, settling into the chair where Lee had been sitting moments before, the leather still warm from his presence. He crossed his legs, a satisfied smile forming on his lips as he looked at Coach Steele, who still seemed to be digesting what had just happened.

“So, Steele,” Jenkins began, his voice calm and controlled, “what do you think of all this?”

Steele, unable to move, finally found his voice. “What did you do, Jenkins? Why make such a drastic decision with a talented athlete like Lee?”

“Oh, Steele,” Jenkins replied, shaking his head almost condescendingly. “You yourself pointed out that BACS has its glitches. And Dawson became a problem. We needed a solution; he was a valuable asset, but the market is changing, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone. What you need to understand is that even though there’s always room for the disciplined athlete like Tom Brady, that’s so 2000s… no, no, with Jason Kelce’s retirement, a niche opened up, that of the wild giant who turns out to be a cute clown. Men identify with him thinking illusionarily that a body like his is more easily attainable than a “more fit one”, and women see the figure of a future husband, someone not so worried about having a sixpack. Which reminds me that I need to find a good girlfriend for the kid and maybe twin boys in a year or two… So, a big teddy bear with a younger, more rebellious bro? All that's left is to find a pop diva to make that winning combo happen again, right? I wonder if I still have Olívia Rodrigo manager's phone number. I’ll have to figure that out too… So the boring, regimented and suspicious Lee needed to go so that the fun, lovable yet aggressive when necessary Bull Dawg could emerge. Ahh the amount of profits these brothers will bring!

"I believed the board wanted the best athletes possible," Steele said, his voice thick with anger.

"The board wants profits. And believe me, someone like the old Lee doesn't do a tenth of what Bull Dawg promises. The public wants their idols to be close to them. They want to feel like they're part of their lives. They want them to be fun. Trust me, Lee Bull Dawg Dawson is someone who knows how to have fun, especially with the products and facilities of our sponsors."

"You and I have very different opinions of what a football fan wants."

"And so we come to the real reason I'm here today. Dawson was just an appetizer, the main course is you, you and your damn insubordination."

Steele took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure as Jenkins’ words echoed in his mind. “I’ve always been loyal to the board’s guidelines, Jenkins. You know that. I’ve always put the rules first.” His voice trembled slightly, but he fought to maintain a firm tone.

Jenkins leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and disdain. “Loyalty? Is this what you call loyalty? The admiration you feel for Lee Dawson blinded you, Steele. You didn’t see that the younger Dawson needed enhancement. Your focus was so fixated on your precious Lee that you ignored what was right in front of you.”

Steele felt the blood rush to his head, indignation forming like a storm inside him. “I didn’t hide anything from the board! I always did what was best for the athletes, not just for one of them. You can’t just…”

“Can’t just what?” Jenkins interrupted, an ironic smile forming on his lips. “Hide the truth? Like you did? Since the incident years ago, you know the board can’t allow any coaches to go rogue. And you, my friend, have crossed the line. Your romanticized vision of what Lee and Tyler could be became a trap, and now you’re gonna pay the price.”

Steele tried to stand, but found himself glued to the chair, as if an invisible force kept him there. Panic began to spread through his body, and he turned to Jenkins, his expression turning to desperation. “Jenkins, please, I beg you!”

“Oh, but I have no choice, Steele,” Jenkins replied, his voice now wrapped in a chilling tone. “Did you really think we wouldn’t have a way to deal with types like you? You’re gonna go through the COACH protocol. Complete Overdrive and Assimilation to the Command Hierarchy. It’s what the council decided. On the field, your attitude is impeccable and should continue that way. But you have no idea how happy I am to be free of your stiffness and bitterness, of your unbearable righteousness.” Jenkins said with a mocking smile that showed all his satisfaction before continuing to speak.

“But cheer up, after the step taken with Lee today, the board decided it’s finally time to expand to college, and you, my future and less uptight best friend, are gonna be the pioneer of this. A spot coaching your old college team awaits your new media approved showman self. A self that will pave your way back to the NFL when the board deems it necessary.”

With one last effort, Steele tried to break free, but the pressure was unbearable. He looked around the room, searching for an escape, but everything seemed to fade around him. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Jenkins’ smug grin, a smile that symbolized both triumph and betrayal, as darkness enveloped him.

….

The celebration at Coach Steele's house after the championship was epic. The Titans, once again, showed their power on the field, snagging the title with an impressive victory. The atmosphere was filled with euphoria, and the players were ready to party. Steele’s house was packed with food, drinks, and laughter, with the guys from the team having a blast while reminiscing about the best moments of the season.

Brock, Adam, Connor, and the rest were all there, laughing and making toasts. Lee, who had been given a break from classes until after the Christmas holidays thanks to Mr. Jenkins, was in his element. He moved through the party like a king, surrounded by friends and admirers. Upon finding his little brother, he couldn't help but smile.

"You really gave it your all this season, T-Dawg!" he said, raising his cup. "I’m so proud of you!"

"Thanks, big bro! And this is just the beginning! I’m ready to head to college and show everyone what I can do!" Tyler replied, his smile shining even brighter.

Lee looked at Tyler, a satisfied grin on his lips. "You know, I’m really glad I won’t have to face you on the field. With you playing like a beast, I’d be in trouble!" He laughed.

Tyler smiled back but couldn't help thinking about what that meant. "Oh, but who knows, maybe one day we’ll meet in the NFL? You could still be my rival on the field or worse, we might end up competing for the same position on a team."

Lee gave Tyler a pat on the shoulder, his smile turning into a rare serious look. "Listen, don’t worry about that. The truth is, when I come back from break, I’ll probably be moved to another position, maybe as a guard or center. I’ve outgrown what a Tight End should be.” He said with a grin while giving a little pat on his muscular gut. “So, if all goes well, we’ll never have to compete for the same spot, better we can be an incredible duo on the same team."

Tyler looked surprised by the revelation. "Seriously? That’s amazing! But… how are we gonna figure out who’s the better player?"

Lee chuckled, shaking his head again. "Fuck who’s better, Tyler! What I really want is to play football and go pro. If it’s alongside you, even better. But enough talk, we should be having fun."

As the party progressed, the energy was through the roof. The guys started competing in an impromptu arm wrestling championship in one corner, while flip cup and beer pong dominated other spots. The music was blasting, and the drinks flowed freely. Lee, in particular, seemed to be enjoying himself more and more, his confidence soaring. His teenage behavior, despite his age, was not out of place among the Titans boys who saw him as an example to follow. He began bragging about his achievements, cracking jokes and teasing the others.

"Hey, who wants to see Bull Dawg do a backflip? Bet I can nail it!" Lee shouted, seizing a moment when Steele were momentarily absent, drawing everyone’s attention in the backyard.

"Go for it, bro!" Tyler shouted, as the crowd's excitement peaked.

As everyone gathered around the pool, Lee climbed onto a small platform, determination etched on his face. He was visibly drunk, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to impress his brother and friends. Tyler and the others watched, a mix of anxiety and fun on their faces, as intoxicated as the older man.

"Go, Lee! Show what you got!" Connor yelled, cheering on his friend.

Lee got ready, taking a deep breath before launching himself into the air. The backflip was perfect, and the impact of his massive body hitting the water was violent, soaking everyone around and sending the team boys into a frenzy.

“Bull Dawg!!! Bull Dawg!!” they all shouted in unison. As he came out of the pool laughing excitedly. Meanwhile, Tyler hugged his brother, saying, “Now I gotta do something bigger!”

“Chill, T-Dawg, you’ve already done enough! You're way cooler than I am! But you are a bit too dry for my taste!” Lee replied, shoving his little brother into the pool and falling in with him amidst laughter.

At that moment, Coach Steele approached with his usual off the field chill smile. He watched the scene, pleased to see that everyone there, just like himself, perfectly fit the board’s criteria, but he also felt the need to maintain at least a certain level of discipline. With a firm movement, he stepped closer to the group, calling everyone’s attention.

“Hey, boys! Time to stop the show!” Steele said, his voice booming over the party noise. The music faded into a whisper as heads turned to look at the coach. Lee and Tyler, still wet and smiling, climbed out of the pool, with Dawson boys striking a triumphant pose of gratitude.

“Come on, coach! We’re just celebrating!” Tyler said, laughing.

“Celebrating is great, but I need you all to remember what it means to be a Titan!” Steele began, his voice gaining strength as he spoke. “This season wasn’t just about winning on the field. It was about teamwork, overcoming challenges, and what it means to be part of a family. Each of you proved that together, we’re stronger. And that’s not just a motto; it’s our truth.”

The boys listened intently, the festive atmosphere shifting quickly to a more serious tone.

“You learned to fight for what you believe in, to support each other, and to never give up. Most importantly, you discovered who you really are. That’s what makes you Titans. And I want you to carry that with you forever. No matter where life takes you, always take with you the team spirit we built here,” Steele continued, his gaze steady and determined.

“Now, I have something important to share with you. I’ve been invited to take the position of offensive line coach at Ohio State,” he announced, and a murmur of surprise spread through the group.

“Wow, coach! That’s awesome!” Rafe shouted, clapping.

“I know many of you dream of playing at a higher level, and this is the chance I need to take the experience you had here to a new level. But that means I’ll have to leave the Titans, at least for now,” Steele said, his voice firm, but a bit melancholic. The atmosphere became heavy, the reality of his departure starting to settle in among the players.

“I want you to know that this team meant everything to me. Each of you has incredible talent, and I’ll be cheering for all of you. As soon as I get there, I’ll make sure to stay in touch. And I hope to see some of these faces in September,” he said, looking into each player’s eyes.

“And for the rest, don’t worry! I’ll personally choose the next coach for the Titans. You can trust I’ll pick someone who will continue what we started here, someone who understands what it means to be a Titan. Trust me, after all, as you all say, Coach Knows Best.”

The boys started to applaud, the energy filling the room again. “Thank you, coach! You’re the best!” they shouted in unison.

“Now, get back to having fun! Go Titans!” Steele exclaimed, raising his beer glass in a toast.

The players shouted in response, excitement taking over again. They gathered in a circle, raised their cups, and yelled: “Go Titans!”

[kaeichi]

mixed drinks, mixed feelings.

[wc: 1.9k] ex fwb! gojo. sfw. angst. alcoholism. hurt/no comfort. you and gojo are teachers at jujutsu tech.

“hey, gojo?”

“...”

gojo hates drinking.

you're not sure who this imposter is—this slumped figure who is currently hunched over the sticky countertop, tangled white hair sprawled messily against the dark sleeves of his arms, accompanied by four almost-empty shot glasses nearby. no, the man you know has never even taken more than a couple sips when the staff goes out for drinks after work hours, nor could he barely tolerate the smell without gagging, his beautiful face contorted almost comically into unequivocal disgust, so whoever this is in front of you couldn't possibly be him.

around an hour ago, the crew decided to head over to the nearest izakaya to celebrate nanami’s newest promotion at his job. he may have left jujutsu tech a long time ago, but he remained close friends with everyone nonetheless. it was only after multiple rounds of drinks that you realized how gojo has mysteriously disappeared for a suspiciously long time, and everyone was too buzzed to notice. after checking the bathrooms and excusing yourself outside, a strange feeling washed over you; for some reason, you eventually found yourself making your way to the bar right across the street.

it seems that one way or another, there is that invisible string that persists, faintly pulling you towards none other than gojo satoru.

tentatively, you lean down, a hand reaching over to gently shake his shoulder. the overwhelming stench of liquor invades your nostrils, but you resist the urge to withdraw, your concern winning over. “you alive, gojo?”

“…it's satoru,” he groggily mumbles.

sighing, you drag a bar stool to sit beside him, observing the uncharacteristically disheveled male. the sight is so bizarre that it makes you audibly laugh in disbelief, and you're tempted to snap a picture for blackmail purposes—he deserves it, you think. just because it's him. what the hell happened to the suave, well-groomed, overly confident sorcerer that you know? the man with very little to no apparent weaknesses at all?

even the strongest has his moments, i guess. if you recall correctly, this might be the first time you've seen him so openly vulnerable. you try to will away the strange sputtering in your chest.

tugging at his wrinkled sleeve, you urge, “look at me.”

no response.

the drinks you've consumed earlier are now starting to take effect, a light headache incoming as you try to think of what you should do. you count one, two, three, before a haunting realization comes to you, making you grab a fistful of his snowy tufts and forcefully gripping it upwards. his eyelids twitch, adjusting to the light after previously being closed shut. when he finally opens them, your breath gets caught in your throat—his once brilliant azure eyes are now a bland gray, with a hint of red rimming the outline.

“gojo?! christ, snap out of it! why can i touch you?”

somehow, the fucker still manages to smirk.

“why not? you've never complained about it before, so why start n—” you let go of his hair, letting his forehead slam back on the counter with a dull thud. he makes a dissatisfied noise, whiny and drawn out, before groaning, “who do you think i am? i can sense your presence way before you came here—my infinity wasn't off this whole time. and again, that's satoru for you.”

that gave you little reassurance, unsure whether or not to fully believe him—especially in this sorry state. despite his devilishly good looks and capabilities, gojo satoru is lame, a menace, and acts like a fool most of the time; but even you know that's a ruse. right now, there's no silly antics, no mask to hide behind, no façade to protect himself. even his fancy sunglasses are long forgotten on the ground below him.

“care to share what's on your mind, my dear friend?”

the seemingly disoriented colleague of yours adjusts his head so he can face you, still leaning against the dirty wood as his lips pull into a pout. “your dear friend, huh…”

“what was that?”

“nothing,” he then sits back up, his voice back to a normal volume. “so? wanna take a shot with me?”

you try your best to refrain from grabbing him by the hair again and slamming his head downward, on purpose this time. “you already drank a whole bottle back at the izakaya, and even that's pushing it. what's with you?”

his glassy, bloodshot eyes regard your stressed expression for a moment before he turns away, opting to stare at shelves of alcohol displays in front of him. “do you remember how megumi acted the first time he met you?”

…of course he'd ignore your question. having a conversation with someone like gojo will never be as clear-cut as you’d like it to be.

still, you decide to entertain him; it is a nice memory after all. fushiguro megumi, one of your students, who is also the little kid whose sister you coincidentally saved from a near death experience many years ago. little megumi came up to you after learning what happened, his head bowed low as he muttered his sincerest thanks in a small, quivering voice. you had kneeled down to his eye level, assured him not to worry about it, but he refused to look up, nor to even budge an inch. then as a joke, you told him to give you a nice big hug if he wanted to thank you more, and he complied, much to you and (especially) gojo’s surprise.

“mhm. didn't know you were the sentimental kind. is that why you refuse to get drunk?” you tease.

“whatever. i've been taking care of that brat for over ten years now, and he's never given me any kind of gratitude or affection whatsoever.”

“...have you ever thought that maybe it's because you have a personality issue?”

“that's not the point!” he whips his head to you, glaring at you with such venom that you can't help but grin widely. he immediately stops scowling at your reaction, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds before he averts his gaze once again. “i… understand him, is all i’m saying.”

“you ditched the group and went all the way here, alone, just to reminisce about the past? you truly never change, huh? you're still as dramatic as ever.”

“disrespectful little sh–” and he's back to glaring at you with a subtle sneer. “why'd you even come here?”

“first: you can't call me that, i'm older than you,” you click your tongue. “second: why not? are you telling me to leave or what?”

“no, seriously. why?” gojo repeats.

at this, your brows crease together. why what? “because i was concerned?”

“why…” he sinks further into the counter, head in between his crossed arms, much like how he had looked when you first walked in.

“i don’t get what you're trying to… are you asking me why i’m concerned? well, why wouldn't i be? it's not like we're not friends outside of work. of course i’d—wait, where are you going?”

you quickly hop off the stool when the tall sorcerer abruptly stands up, now briskly walking away and heading towards the exit. you call him a couple more times but he doesn't bother to look back, and you resort to nearly running to be able to keep up with his freakishly long legs. right before he rounds the corner of the street, you harshly pull his wrist; at the contact, he jerks his head back, dull gray eyes flashing angrily.

“is that all you see me as?” he yells, his voice echoing through the dark, empty street. you’re taken aback by the harshness of his tone, letting go of his wrist in surprise. “tell me no. lie to me at this point. did all our nights spent together mean nothing at all? i was just a quick fix for you, wasn't i?” the volume of his voice raises even higher, and you frantically wave your hands at him to stop.

“no, that's not true! i—” now you understand why he's been drinking irresponsibly. fuck. if you knew this is how it’d end up, then you wouldn't have started anything with him in the first place. you don't regret anything, but is it really worth ruining your precious friendship? all the years of your youth shared together has now gone down the drain, all because of a couple of drunken nights?

“—then why don't you look at me the same way as you do with nanami?” he says, and your stomach drops. one look at your shocked expression and gojo already knows. he knows, yet he needs one last confirmation that comes directly from your mouth, no matter how excruciating it is. “tell me i’m wrong.”

“i’m sorry, go–”

“it’s satoru, damn it.” this time, he doesn't scream his words, nor does he ball his fists so tight that his knuckles blanch. instead, what comes out is merely a quiet, trembling whisper.

you wince at the sheer amount of emotion behind his words, the feeling of guilt heavy on your shoulders.

“listen to me, satoru. there's nothing going on with me and nanami. and what you and i both have– had, is in the past now. you know why we can't be together, right? i can't leave my dear students behind.” the two of you are well aware of that predicament; you and him can never have a real relationship, unless you're willing to risk relocation to kyoto prefecture.

would you really do that for someone you're not even 100% sure you're in love with?

“then stop pretending to care about me. stop doing all this like you mean it,” the white-haired male spits out. you look down, a hand reaching in your pocket for the discarded sunglasses you've picked up earlier, gently placing the pitch black lenses over gojo’s face.

you want to say it's for his sake, but truthfully, you just can't bear to look him in the eyes anymore.

“but that's the thing; i do care about you. and i never stopped caring about you. you're such a great person, satoru,” you assure him with a much softer tone. before you know it, you're reaching towards his face—however, as soon as you made contact, your palm seems to burn from realization (of him further misunderstanding your actions? of you knowing your place?), making you quickly retract your fingers.

you pretend you don't see him chasing after your touch.

“please believe me when i say this,” you continue. “you deserve someone who's just as kind as you, someone who actually deserves your love, and i’m not that person—”

“kiss me.” you nearly lose your balance as he suddenly places his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, his voice breaking as he pleads. you're glad you can't see his eyes anymore—it might shatter your already fragile resolve even more. “i don't care. i don't care if you're not the right person, or if you think you're undeserving of my love. none of that has ever mattered to me. so please, kiss me. just one more time.”

huffs of your breaths mix together, faint white clouds forming in the chilly night. your heart shivers with anticipation as your gaze lingers on his soft, familiar lips for a moment too long.

one,

two,

three.

“…i can't. i'm sorry, gojo.”

for being the strongest sorcerer alive, he’s undeniably and pathetically weak when it comes to you. for being the strongest, he can't even snap that thin, flimsy cord, unable to sever that invisible string that ties you both together.

gojo hates drinking, but he would down glass after glass until his body gives up before his mind does. he absolutely hates drinking, but he hates uncertainty and loss of control even more.

[solaris-amethyst]

🪻If something chases you, run🪻

✨Pairing: Matz x afab!reader ✨Prompt: Can you please write some Matz x fem!reader angst based on the acting videos of Hongjoong and Seonghwa🙏 only if you're comfortable of course, and I will take literally anything🥺 ✨Requested by a lovely anon🫶🏻 ✨Word count: 3.3k ✨Genre: non idol au, angst, slight fantasy au, horror, thriller 🌙Warnings: mdni, death, dismembering, decapitation, possession, gore, blood, choking, being chased by what you cannot see, self blame for what is happening, wishing you would perish instead of others. please let me know if I've missed a warning! ☀️Authors note: Thank you for requesting❣️I cannot believe I managed to write 3.3k words for this one tbh🤯 The two videos being referenced in the requests are these: Hongjoong and these two for Seonghwa! Hope you enjoy this one despite it being angst🫶🏻 Also I am so sorry to all the Hongjoong and Seonghwa stans out there for their fates in this one shot...

It was dark.

The three of you were running trying to get away from whatever it was chasing you. You had always been told not to go out in the dark by the elders of your village but the three of you had only thought it was old tales used to keep the kids in line.

Turns out you had been wrong this whole time.

Your grandma had explicitly told you when you were a kid: "The creatures out there will hunt you down, you might think you have escaped but unless you make it back into the village you never have and never will my dear. They will tear you apart limb by limb as they consume your soul or worse, they will inhabit your body after they've consumed your soul. So be careful and do not go outside of the village once the sun has set. Remember this, if something chases you, run."

As a kid you had marveled at her stories and sworn to never go outside in the dark but as you grew up you and your friends couldn't help but feel like it was something they just said because the elders didn't want to have to go out in the dark searching for someone when they could have been asleep.

"I can't keep running much longer!!" You heaved out trying to keep up with your friends, it felt like it was impossible.

"You have to!! Come on!! Don't give up!!" Seonghwa screamed before slightly slowing down so he could grab your arm and help you run, even if it felt like you were continuously being dragged instead of running.

Seonghwa was desperate as he continue to run dragging you along with him. His grip on your arm was so tight that it was hurting but you had no chance nor will to complain about this.

Not when you could end up in a much worse situation if he didn't.

You looked ahead to see Hongjoong sprinting, the torch in his hand glowing bright, the flames flickering back towards you. He was leading you back to home in the darkness, his orange hair shining brightly in the night.

You cursed in your head that the three of you had wandered outside so far away from your home and its protective walls now when it had become a matter of life or death.

"We're almost at the bridge!! Hurry!!" Hongjoong yelled, he sounded tired and out of breath, which was to no surprise. The three of you had wandered at least an hour away from your home before the creatures had found you three.

You were so close to getting to safety that you thought it would all be over when suddenly something was grabbing your legs, yanking hard, forcing you to the ground with a scream. Seonghwa almost falling with you as you were ripped out of his grasp.

"Y/N!!" He screamed desperately turning around trying to grasp your hands. Whatever was griping onto your legs was causing wounds to appear where whatever malevolent being was holding you as it dragged you back towards the dark looming forest.

"HWA!! JOONGIE!!" you screamed terrified as your best friends first stared in horror as you were being dragged away from them before both sprinted into action.

Desperate to save you.

Seonghwa hurries to grab your hands, he looks terrified as he tries so hard to get you away while Hongjoong rushes towards your legs, where this invisible force is dragging you. He swings the torch hoping that it will make whatever is hurting you let you go.

Unfourtunatly it does not work. It only makes whatever is clawing at your legs and drag you towards the forest harder.

Long tears appear on your calves and you let out a scream in pain.

"Let her go!!!!" Hongjoong tries everything he can think of with the torch but nothing works.

"Come help me!!!" Seonghwa screams at him and he eventually does letting go of the torch and rushing to Hwa. Both are gripping your arms and at one point it felt like you were going to be torn apart.

More panic start settling into your bones when you realize you are slowly slipping out of their hands. Your boys have a look of realization of what is going to happen a second too late and you're dragged back as they get blown back.

It all happened so fast. You tried to claw with your hands on the ground, screaming and kicking as you're dragged away.

"SEONGHWA!! HONGJOONG!!"

"Y/N!!!!"

Both of their voices echoes loudly as you suddenly are stopped in the middle of the woods. Whatever was hurting you has let your legs go.

Sitting up is painful and looking down at your own legs makes you almost puke. There is blood everywhere. Long wounds, looking similar to the smaller wounds you would sometimes get from playing with the barn cats on your legs. The blood is oozing out of the wounds creating a puddle below you.

Your hands are shaking as you try to rip a part of your skirt so you can dress your wounds.

"Please let them be okay." You whisper shakily to yourself. Logically you should have been dead by now.

That's always how the stories went when your grandma told them to you.

"If someone has to die." you sob quietly to yourself feeling terrified in the dark woods, no light coming through the dense forest. "Then let it be me." You cry, not wanting to think about your friends, your boys, potentially leaving this earth and leaving you behind.

"Why did I say we should go so far away? Gosh I'm so stupid." You berate yourself as you cry.

You shakily wrap your wounds with the ripped parts of your skirt. Hands trembling and you try not to make any pained noises when you eventually try to stand up.

It hurts a lot. Taking one step sends pain up your legs and your entire body shivers because of it.

You look around, not sure where you are. With shaky steps you walk towards where you think the boys would be. Whatever had dragged you to where you had ended up at had not just dragged you in a straight line and due to the darkness you could not just follow the marks on the ground back to where the bridge would be located.

Back with the boys who were panicking, screaming for you. Running straight into the forest, torch forgotten as they call out for you.

"Y/N!! WHERE ARE YOU??!!" Hongjoong yells loudly, the helpless feeling of failure is slowly settling into his bones.

Seonghwa next to him is sobbing, in a full-blown panic looking at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Do you think she's dead?" He ask, stuttering as he grips Hongjoongs shoulders tightly. "Did we loose her?? Did I lose one of my best friends??"

He is lightly shaking him. Hongjoong looks at his friend and tries to appear brave and certain when he says:

"N-no, she can't be dead. If she were we would have heard her. She's alive. We have to find her. W-we can't go back without her." He says stuttering two times when tears threaten to fall, his voice getting thick with emotions.

He gently takes Seonghwas hands into his and squeezes them.

"We will find her, we will get out of this. We will survive. All of us." He says and he can see his friend registering the words he says through his panic because Hwa is nodding at him even tho his eyes are still wide, looking around in panic, chest heaving.

"P-promise?"

"I promise."

Seonghwa takes a minute to collect himself before nodding. They both turn back to the darkness to start searching for you again and Seonghwas hand has not stopped gripping Hongjoongs.

It hurts but Hongjoong allows it. It keeps him slightly grounded into reality as the pain brings him back when his thoughts flees to the worst case scenarios.

And if it brings some sense of comfort to his friend he won't stop it.

Not right now.

Not ever.

The two of them wander into the forest, calling out your name hoping that if they hear your voice respond to their calls, it's actually you and not something else mimicking you or possessing you.

For you, it was a whole different story. Wandering alone, every step hurting, the cloth you had wrapped around your legs were slowly being stained into a deep burgundy shade. It had slowly become easier to see in the darkness surrounding you and it had made it easier to navigate in the dark.

There is no wind blowing through the trees and there is only silence surrounding you creating an uncertain and slightly haunting surrounding. Had there been noises, perhaps an owl or a wolf in the distance you would have not felt so alone.

The silence was not bringing you any comfort whatsoever.

"Joongie?? Hwa??" You called out "Where are you?? Please don't leave me alone here." You mumble feeling scared that you might have been left alone.

You knew logically that they'd never leave you but when fear festers in your heart doubt sows it seeds.

You had been wandering around for maybe ten minutes when you heard two loud screams in the distance.

Your boys.

"JOONGIE! HWA!!" You scream their nicknames and hurried as fast as you could towards the place their screams came from. You hope desperately that what had scared them was just a normal animal and not one of those creatures ready to feast on them.

As you limp your way forward you eventually come closer to a clearing in the woods.

You can see someone on the ground.

You instantly recognize that orange mop of hair.

"Hongjoong!!!" You call out his name but he doesn't seem to be able to hear you.

His eyes are focused on something entirely different, something you cannot see. He looks scared, his eyes wide and mouth open as his chest is heaving. You try calling his name again louder hoping he can see you as you wave towards him.

"HONGJOONG!!"

He still doesn't react, he looks afraid as he looks around before he brings up his hands to his head gripping his hair as he leets out a terrified scream before a light engulfs him and when the light is no more the clearing is empty.

You hurry up to the clearing, searching for him whilst muttering no no no no no over and over again. You had been so close to being reunited with your friend only for him to disappear right infront of you.

Just as you stand up you hear the most bloodcurdling scream from him up in the distance which makes your own blood freeze. Despite your injuries you find new willpower to run.

You run even though it's sending waves of pain up your body. Hongjoong never screamed like that. It makes you fear that hes been hurt beyond help and you have to make sure that is not true.

Eventually you come across a sight that makes you wanna throw up.

There's blood everywhere, limbs torn apart, the insides of someone's stomach splattered out on the ground.

You walk around carefully, trying to keep your breathing steady.

It cannot be Hongjoong you think to yourself in denial, refusing to believe that he could be dead. Only to stumble over something and fall to the ground. Getting blood all over yourself and when you look up from the ground you're met with a horrific sight.

It makes you scream so loudly you're sure everyone in the forest heard you.

Hongjoongs decapitated head.

His eyes still wide open, the look of fear still present in his eyes, mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

"No! No no no no no no! Hongjoong!" You sob as you realize it is your friend who has been maimed, hes been ripped apart to shreds and you're covered in his blood. You learned that you had tripped over his ripped apart arm when you glanced down towards your feet.

You carefully pick up his head, the very sight of the atrocity that had befallen him made you wanna scream again, throw up and faint all at the same time.

Holding his head close to you, you sob out apology after apology to him.

"I'm sorry! I am so sorry Joongie! I should have never encourage us to go out during the night so far from our village. I'm sorry." You wail loudly.

His death was on your hands.

Maybe not directly but indirectly you had caused this. You had caused the injuries on your legs, you had caused one of your best friends to die and another one wandering around, perhaps hurt or killed as well here in the forest.

As you're sitting there crying, a low growl can be heard from behind you, a sickening crunching noise can be heard as well and as you look back slowly you can see that there is something eating his limbs.

The very sight of it causes your brain to choose flight.

Sprinting away.

You're still holding Hongjoongs head in your arms. If there is one thing you have to do then it's get him home. So he can have a proper burial. You won't leave him. Not to be some creatures dinner.

As you sprint through the dark forest, the trees looming over you, you can hear a familiar voice.

"Hongjoong??!! Y/n??!!"

You sprint harder, you're not sure how much longer you can run. Your legs are sure to give out soon. Your head has started to feel faint.

"Seonghwa!!"

You see him as you manage to get out, you're close to where you had been before you had been dragged away. Seonghwa turns around when he hears your voice and you can see the tearstained cheeks and the relief of seeing you before it turns to slight horror at the sight of your friends head in your arms.

"Y/n!!" He sprints towards you, he looks desperate.

You're bloodied and look terrified in his eyes but he can't find himself to be scared right now. He feels relieved that you're alive. He had heard Hongjoongs scream earlier and had suspected he had perished, he had hoped that he was wrong.

His head in your arms showed he was right.

As the two of you get closer he opens his arms to embrace you. He needs to hug you. To feel that you're real. Just as he reaches you, his arms almost enclosing around you, he falls down.

Had you not been so weak you would have grabbed his arms just the way he had when this had happened to you. He screams in pain as his legs get slashed like yours, he is fighting back, trying to crawl forward, trying to reach you.

"Seonghwa! No!"

"Y/n!! Run!!"

"I can't leave you!!"

"Yes you can! Save yourself!" "NO!"

You limp after him and when you get close to being able to grab his arms something stops you.

It's like an invisible wall.

"NO NO NO NO SEONGHWA!!" You yell banging on the invisible wall, trying desperately to break it so you can reach him.

You two make eye contact as he reaches a shaking hand towards you.

Then it happens, the light and Seonghwas scream is almost as bad if not worse than Hongjoongs bloodcurdling one and you cannot help the feeling of defeat washing over you as you slid down, silent tears falling down your cheeks again as you sob his name over and over.

Your eyes are now burning from how much you have cried this night.

What you see when the light goes down surprises you, Seonghwa is sitting there on his legs, chest heaving but he doesn't seem hurt at all. You had thought you would be greeted with the same horrific sight you had stumbled upon earlier when you found Hongjoong.

What you fail to notice is the smirk he has on his face and the evil glint in his eyes before he gets up and walks towards you.

"S-seonghwa. You're alive." You say flabbergasted.

"Y/n." He sinks down and brings you in for a hug, holding you tight and you can feel yourself relax into his warm embrace. Thinking that finally you two can get home safely.

Seonghwa smirks as you relax into his embrace as one of his hands comes up and wraps around your neck, gripping it tightly choking you as he stands up. You're being choked while dangling a little over the ground.

You gasp trying to get him to let you go, looking at him in surprise and panic.

"S-seonghwa! L-let me go!" You rasp out fearfully not understanding why he is doing this. Had you remembered what your grandmother used to tell you, you would have never let him get close to you after the light had happened.

"Oh sweetie your Seonghwa doesn't exist anymore." He chuckles darkly as he stares intently into your eyes. He looks gleeful as if your pain and fear brings him much joy and ecstasy.

"What." You stutter the word out in disbelief.

"Oh yes, did your parents never warn you about what we do? You either end up like your friend in your arms or like your friend Seonghwa who I am now the owner of." He says with a laugh and you fight hard to get out of his grip.

Panic starts setting in and you do the only thing you can think of which is to kick his stomach. Luckily that seems to work as he lets you go groaning whilst holding his stomach.

The adrenaline now pumping through your body must have given you the last little bit of energy you could have needed to get a head start running towards the bridge.

Towards safety and towards home.

Behind you Seonghwa cackles loudly before the quick steps can be heard behind you. Stupidly enough you look back to see how far behind you he is and you notice he is not yet running but walking fast.

The way he stalks after you and the constant smirk like a predator slowly approaching his prey combined with his eyes is more unsettling than if he had been running after you. He's bloodied from hugging you earlier and from his own wounds and the sight is something you find hard to look away from.

Because you're not looking where you are running you end up taking a tumble over a rock, scraping up your knees and dropping Hongjoongs head causing it to roll back towards Seonghwa.

You go to try and pick it up but when you see that he is already picking it up you decide to try and make it to the bridge instead.

Hongjoong would have wanted you to save yourself.

Getting up from the ground and sprinting towards the bridge, you can hear how his steps have grown faster.

"I'm going to get you!" He screams as you near the bridge, taunting you.

And by some sheer luck you get onto the bridge and manages to cross it without Seonghwa catching you.

As you stop shakily by the entrance of your village you turn one last time to look back at him with tearstained cheeks and guilt in your eyes.

Seonghwa is standing there with a manic look on his face, holding Hongjoongs head in his arms. He's drenched in blood, more so than he had been earlier. It's dripping from his body and all he does is stare at you.

Stare directly into your soul before he laughs haughtily. He stands there never taking his eyes off you as you take your next steps into safety.

You will always wonder if it had been luck or if he had knowingly let you cross. To let you sit with all the guilt of loosing both of your friends. Having to face their families and tell them what had happened and the fate you had indirectly led them to. To tell your own family what you had done and then being shunned by everyone.

Perhaps that was his plan, to have you feel so bad you'd one night come out voluntarily and cross that bridge again.

[caelivir]

the little things | rayne ames

— synopsis. rayne loves through actions, but sometimes he loves through words

— pairing. rayne ames x gn!reader

— genre. fluff

— word count. 882

— notes. i love rayne so much

Rayne’s adoration for you spans across the neverending distance of space. It’s a feeling that consumes him whole, but he can never convey that through words. You’ve always known that, and it has never bothered you in the slightest. You always told him that he didn’t have to say it if he wasn’t ready. And that only made him love you more.

That’s why Rayne expresses his love in the way he knows best. Actions. He’s always been a firm believer in the importance of actions. They demonstrate his love when words aren’t able to.

Everyday you come home to a plate of freshly cut fruit sitting for you on the table. There’s always a note sitting directly next to it. Rayne doodles a silly bunny onto the paper because he knows it makes you smile. (Little does he know that you keep them in a box hidden deep in your closet).

Rayne caresses your hands whenever you’re both out with friends. He mindlessly traces patterns on them, and his touch is enough to send you floating above the clouds. He compares your hand size with him just so that he can interlock his fingers with yours, holding it for as long as he can before you can complain about them being sweaty.

He’ll be the first to notice your unlaced shoes and will always be the first to tie them back up for you despite how embarrassing it is. Rayne always watches over you when you’re distracted, moving you away from cracks in the road and protecting you from sharp corners by covering them with his own hand.

Your boyfriend will never fail to pay for your meals despite your multiple protests. He holds your bags whenever you go shopping and will deny you any right to assist him. Rayne gives you his whole attention whenever you’re sharing moments that occurred throughout your day.

People ask if your relationship with Rayne is okay, and it sends a pang through your heart. Seeing your boyfriend misjudged based on his intimidating appearance upsets you, and Rayne will always assure you that it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

“Well,” He would say, gently tangling his hands with yours. “Do you feel loved by me?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Then that’s all that matters. Everyone else can fuck off.” He offers you a rare grin before taking your cheeks into his hands, pressing a delicate kiss onto your forehead.

And that in itself is all it takes for all your worries to fade away. Other people don’t see the love that Rayne offers to the people he cares fondly about, but that does not mean it doesn’t exist.

Rayne Ames loves you so much that he’s willing to hold you in his arms for hours just as he’s doing now. It’s one of those days when he’s finally free from responsibilities. No meetings, no business trips, no other pending work. He gets to stay home with you and breathe in the scent of lavender that lulls him to sleep. Together, you drift in and out of naps as his arms lay soundly around your waist. It’s a peace he wishes to live in forever.

You face him. A song that Rayne doesn’t know the name of hums from your mouth. With a touch so light it sends chills down his spine, your fingers brush strands of hair away from his eyes. He leans into your touch, longing for it like a necessity. You smile at him, and Rayne believes it’s the most ethereal thing in the world. The stars swirl in your eyes. He finds himself endlessly lost in them.

Rayne loves you. It’s the most undeniable fact of his life, and it’s about time he makes it a stated reality outside of his head. He inhales softly, the words forming on his tongue, and he lets them go before his brain can tell him otherwise.

“I love you.”

He feels your hand freeze, eyes slightly widening in shock. “What?” You whisper, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“I love you,” Rayne repeats, familiarizing himself with the way the words sound out of his mouth, growing comfortable with how they sound. “I love you so much that it is all I think about. I love everything about you, from your perfections to imperfections. You are the best thing the world has to offer, and I love you.”

Your face lights up with brightness to rival the brightest suns. “Say it again.”

Rayne can’t do anything else but comply because he’d do anything to see you this euphoric. “I love you.”

You waste not a single second crashing your lips onto Rayne, molding into each other like you have done so many times in the past. His hand slides from up your waist and onto the familiar softness of your cheek. He kisses you with so much adoration that it makes you dizzy. Between every touch of your lips, he whispers it, repeating the three words like he could never get tired of them. And when you finally pull away, Rayne pulls you in impossibly closer, his heart full of thoughts of you.

Rayne Ames is a firm believer of actions over words, but sometimes, three words are more powerful than all the actions in the world.

[pomefioredove]

🙂‍↕️not really coherent reply sorry

vil is one of the only characters in game that treats yuu with respect, and as an equal.

EXACTLYLY. honestly it never ever sits right with me whenever yuu BREAKS THEIR BACK trying to help others (especially because barely anyone is doing barely anything to help them. LET THIS BITCH GO HOME!!!!) for them to just? barely acknowledge it? casually brush it off? the scene in book 3 where the tweels r like wanna help out? you can switch with these guys and ace is like YES double all of my current suffering and pass it onto them /ref all of the students complaining about losing their signature spells when yuu has NO magic at all to protect themselves with.. let’s be serious please. maybe im being a little dramatic! but thats literally my favorite character you are talking about get their name out of your mouth.

vil is literally the only other character who plays a similar role in the story.

... cause chars like trey and lilia are almost there, but distinctly different in their roles, while vil is THE mother.

THIS!! !! !!! !!!!! lillia is more of the father trope and trey is more of a big brother i’d say. they aren’t nurturing in the same way vil is. maybe it’s the ‘nagging’ slash instructing aspect of how vil interacts with people. i don’t even know how to put it into words but ur right vil is so mom. like. i dont know.. it’s probably his relationship with epel (and even the other first years?) that makes me associate him with being motherly but he’s just so. nurturing. so many moms in the media that i’ve (recently) consumed were teaching their daughters to be quiet and respectful as to not get punished/essentially outcasted socially. of course that’s not really what vil is doing with epel but. ugh. read my mind!!! ull understand then trust. the ONLY other character that sorta makes me feel the same way is jamil. illove him so dearly but i know. little to nothing major about his character aside from his relationship with kalim. yuu and grim. vil and epel. jamil and kalim. they should start a we dont get paid (enough) for this bullshit club

honestly i dont even want to project myself onto yuu i wanna be a helpful roomate or somthinf. wtf 😭 my hungry aggressive ass could NOT be yuu /ref..

rhats all i can put into words rigth now . evene though i got sidetracked a lot.. !! bht th part abojt yuu being motherly ! ialso wanted to reply to. wowww thats a lot of typos sorry my eyesight is a tad blurry 😭

AHHGGGGG ANON

"double all of my current suffering and pass it onto them" LMAOOOO 😭😭😭

I am such a yuu defender idc. LEAVE THEM ALONE!!!! it's why rollo is still such a fave of mine, he's like one of the only sane people. looks at yuu and is like jesus christ are you fucking okay.

and yes literally vil is just. I think the big difference is that he actually kinda likes being in charge? more so than yuu. he's a natural leader while they were literally manipulated and blackmailed into their position (I WILL SAY THAT I do think vil feels pressured to be a leader because of how he was outcasted/made out to seem mean and scary by his peers so he just kinda Filled That Role... but also I definitely do not see him as someone who'd enjoy following rather than leading. his own character VERY MUCH parallels yuu's in so many ways)

jamil is definitely different tho. he was also forced into his position as a caretaker but he doesn't have a parental vibe to him. tbh I couldn't tell u what it is but he's got his own thing going on (and he DOES parallel yuu in a way, I wish he was closer to them because there's potential but he's really Not)

BUT YEAH I get you. I feel like this is a weird thing to say but yuu feels like their own character to me 😭 like I have my own yuusona but yuu themselves is a little guy to me

[lizbethborden]

I think the point these people make is that thinking that Harris is better than Trump is an illusion. They're two sides of the same coin, funding cop cities, funding racist anti immigration programs, funding Israel's genocide in Gaza, spreading dangerous islamophobic antisemitic misogynistic etc rhetoric. Trump is just doing it in a vulgar style. Harris has been vice president for a while now and her administration has not undone much of the work of Trump, when it hasnt prolonged or amplified it. So I think lots of people are feeling defeated, disillusioned, and like they are being manipulated when the 'at least she's not Trump' argument is brought forth. If she's not Trump, but signs off on the same policies and budgets, and represses protests the same way, there is no difference on the ground. Also I think more people are becoming radicalized and hope for a global change - third party candidates, the people's revolution, whatever. It's a rejection of the establishment altogether rather than rejecting just one - I understand the frustration but I can't fault people who refuse to participate in a system that they feel is working against them regardless of the outcome.

I take issue with a lot of the framing of this response.

First of all, it's not Harris' administration; it's Biden's. I'm not going to argue she has no agency as a political actor, but the way the system works is that he is the central driver of action and policy. Arguing that she, personally, should have accomplished more is frankly silly, both when 1) they HAVE accomplished quite a lot and 2) where they have struggled to accomplish goals, it is often because of deadlocks in the legislative branch, where Republicans hold a majority in the House and Democrats only the slightest majority in the Senate (and considering one of their number is Joe Manchin, it kind of doesn't count).

To the point that they HAVE accomplished a lot:

Established the Office for Gun Violence Prevention and signed anti-gun violence legislation into law

Passed the Inflation Reduction Act, which has significant climate change and drug price provisions

Approved literal billions in debt relief for people with student debt, with still more to come

Signed an executive order to regulate AI usage and to scrutinize use of AI for potential discriminatory effects

Passed the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, allocating over $400 billion for infrastructure works

Pushed protections for consumers re: airline travel and its exorbitant fees and delays, via DoT and Pete Buttigieg

Achieved a 3.5% unemployment rate, which is the lowest in 50 years

Harris also has, explicitly, called for a ceasefire in Gaza and in fact had her intended statements about the humanitarian crisis there "watered down" by officials, ostensibly so that she didn't seem to be breaking away from Biden's approach to Israel and the genocide. I am not going to argue that the Biden-Harris administration is perfect, does no wrong, or does not have significant responsibility for dangerous, violent policies and political actions. That's the nature of Western government and it would be deeply offensive to suggest otherwise. But to suggest that they're just Trump but more polite is inaccurate and honestly shows a significant degree of political ignorance. Also very odd to suggest that a Black woman is like, equally as racist as Trump?

Moreover, the head-in-the-sand, I-would-prefer-not-to, "the revolution will come soon so no worries :D" approach is simply not helpful in the day-to-day. So, I, for one, absolutely can fault people who choose not to participate in the actions that will have significant effects on the day-to-day governance of the country in which they live. If the idea is to sit around and complain until all the oligarchs get beheaded, nothing will get done. This is the exact attitude taken during the 2016 election, which actually got Trump elected and resulted in the policies that killed large numbers of people during COVID, exacerbated racist and islamophobic violence, and nearly led to a white supremacist Christian nationalist coup that overthrew the government. If you're fine with that, good for you. I, personally, am not.

[deathbxnny]

☆《Mha boys dating a civilian!Reader》☆

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A/N: So uhh... this is self-indulgent and a small cry for help, because I would love to write requests for other fandoms than just hsr and yeah... I just want to write for something else for once and am brain rotting hard, so forgive me- (If you're curious about what other fandoms I'm willing to write for, check my request info!)

Featured characters: Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugo

Content: Slight angst if you squint, fluff, established relationships, reader being a civilian, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Izuku Midoriya

He genuinely appreciates your existence in his life so much. He's always so busy with hero and quirk training, that it can sometimes consume his very existence. Something that starts to become very draining to him over time, despite loving what he does. So being with you is like a much needed break from everything going on in his life.

He can escape the stress and pressure with you, as your life is so much more calm and mundane than his. It doesn't stop you worrying over him though, since you know very well how dangerous his life sometimes can be. But he always reassures you that he'll be fine, that he'll always come back to you after a fight. He tries making time for you and makes sure you know how much he appreciates you during your dates.

You're his second best thing to talk about after Allmight and he genuinely cannot shut up about you either. He loves telling everyone about your normal life. It's comforting and motivates him to do even better at training, so that you can keep your peaceful life and live without any worries. It also makes him glad that you aren't a hero, as he already worries about your safety daily. But there is nothing for you to worry about, as your hero boyfriend will keep you safe no matter what!

-----♡

》Katsuki Bakugo

He's surprised at how fast he fell for you, when it should've been the other way around. Despite the fact that you were a hero or anything, he still felt oddly connected to you, something he thought about often even after months of dating. He didn't get what about you made him so attached, but he doesn't necessarily complain either, surprisingly. Instead, he feels pride in the fact that you appreciate him for all the training and work he does. His ego just inflates even more through you, but you're at least somewhat spared from his arrogance.

He likes that you are just a civilian, mainly due to him being able to show off that way. He likes impressing you and cares about your opinion alot, despite denying it. He's grumpy whenever you ask him to go out, but will show up fully prepared with flowers in hand, as he complains about you interrupting an important training session for this. You ofcourse know that he was willing to drop anything for you anyways, so you never take his words seriously.

He dismisses all of your worries and gets slightly offended. He's strong and powerful, so what are you even worried about? He's unbeatable! Besides, if anything, he should be worried about you. You may be a weakling in his eyes, but you are his weakling and therefore protected better than anyone else in this world.

-----♡

》Shoto Todoroki

Todoroki was unsure of how to be around you at first, especially after he began dating you. He always only knew the life of having to be the perfect hero and therefore didn't really know how to deal with your calm and mundane life. You were such opposites, that it deeply comforted him. You taught him about normal everyday life stuff, something he greatly enjoyed learning about at your side.

Your dates were something he always looked forward to everyday and he made it very clear at that. You gave him a sense of normalcy he missed and for that he was grateful. But that also made him more protective over you, as he didn't want you to ever get hurt. It's the last thing he ever wanted. He is surprised at your constant worry however. Sure, he was the one putting himself in immideate danger all the time. But you were the one he cared about the most.

He takes pride in you, even if you don't have anything special going for you. The fact that you're so kind and normal drew him to you and so he's more than willing to repay his kindness by training hard every day for you. He wants to prove that he is a good boyfriend and hero to you, as you practically motivate him to do something good with his life for once. You're the peaceful light in his dark world and for you, he'd do anything.

-----♡

A/N: Ah I feel much better... honestly, mha request are very much open and so is anything else on my request info list... please spare me and forgive me for going off my usual hsr theme for a little moment. But God... I'm so burnt out, I just wanted to write for something else. So I hope that's fine with you guys. Please let me know, if you don't like it. :((

[fairymascot]

hello, here are my rambly thoughts about the yellowjackets s2 finale, because i watched it a few hours ago and i'm just barely beginning to process it. cut for mega huge spoilers, obviously.

so the first thing i did upon finishing s2 was of course googling when s3 was due. and it was then i saw the show was planned for five seasons. this flabbergasted me, as i had totally assumed s3 would be the last. i mean, SO MUCH stuff had already happened. how much more stuff could possibly go down.

but once i had time to really take it into consideration, it... totally reconfigured my perception of the show so far. i suddenly realized that the first two seasons were little more than an interlude. an exposition. think about it: we saw each character in their own separate lives, dealing with their own separate dramas. only periodically, partially intersecting. and all their dramas, the budding conspiracies, the attempts to tie it all together -- ultimately, it all fell through. shauna's lover really was just a random nobody with no ill intent. the shady reporter was just an agent taissa hired to snoop around a bit. taissa's son is probably perfectly normal, and the only issue was her. travis really did just kill himself. they are all just sad, fucked up people, who were mostly fucking up their own lives.

this is because none of this was the real plot of yellowjackets. the real story in the present timeline begins in the last couple episodes of season 2, when they are all finally fully reunited. actually, to be more specific, it begins in that scene in the last episode where they embrace the darkness anew, and begin the chase.

this darkness, this thing that came from the wilderness with them -- whether it originated from within them or without, it is clear it is so much bigger than them. and that is the heart of the story, not cheating or blackmail or murder investigations: how these adult women will handle the darkness that almost wholly consumed them as teens. will they succumb to it? or will they rise up against it? that's what we're just barely beginning to see as of s2.

now, regarding natalie's death. the fact i am devastated aside-- i see numerous fans complaining, calling it bad or even malicious writing to kill her when she was the only character beginning to grow in an actually positive manner. and while i understand that it's frustrating and upsetting, it's also exactly what needed to happen. BECAUSE natalie was healing, she could not remain. BECAUSE she was beginning to build a life for herself and put the past, the wilderness, behind.

in fact, her death itself was an act of defiance: she broke their fucked up hunting game by sacrificing herself to protect someone outside their circle. yes, in a way, she did what the wilderness wanted. but in a way, she was also telling the wilderness 'fuck you'. she was resigning as queen. she was resigning as hunter. she chose humanity. she was ending the game. if the remaining seasons are indeed about those women stepping up to face the darkness head on, then natalie's refusal to participate, and her prioritizing a (healthy, untainted) connection to an outsider, meant she had to be removed.

i have no idea what the show holds in store. the thought that we're not even halfway through is dizzying. but i can say one thing with a fair amount of confidence: i do not for one second believe this is a show about healing.

sorry, natalie. you were doomed the second you started getting better.

[studynxiety]

06/09/2023

Lately, I have been tired. I am not sure if it's burnout, a random depressive episode or executive dysfunction. All I know is I haven't been really doing as much as I could be. I didn't want to admit it since I was still doing enough to get 80% on most tests and things could be worse.

Looking back, however, I haven't really done much that enjoy lately. I don't remember the last time I turned on some good music and wrote away, burning the midnight candle for something that made me alive. And there has been this constant knot of anxiety at the bottom of my stomach. So, things haven't been vibrant but things aren't exactly bad. It's like waking up on the wrong side of the bad; nothing's horrible but everything's off nonetheless.

All this is to say, I think I need to bounce back and I'm done being passive for this year. I've always been ambitious and I'm going to start pursuing things I want again. I woke up today feeling weirdly motivated so I've decided to start the 100 days of productivity challenge!

Things I hope to achieve from this challenge:

Become good enough in Physics that I can enjoy it again

Finish at least half of the CS50 course

Study for SATS

Make a complete compilation of which Unis to apply to

Finish at least two WIPs

Get better at French

Extra/Less-prioritized goals:

Get abs

learn to cook

Sketch/Draw more often

I think there will be two main obstacles in the way of me accomplishing these things. The first will be finding time. Most of the goals I've mentioned are things I have been putting off for more immediate concerns or just, generally, people needing me for things in the present that need to be dealt with but don't have much of an impact in the future.

The second problem is my undeniable internet addiction. Okay, I feel like internet addiction is too broad; my addiction to constantly consume some form of creative media, be it in the form of books, movies, TV shows, anime, cartoon, comics, or fanfiction. I really need to cut down on that. I think this will be the most difficult part. I'll try cutting out serialized content and instead explore more indie books and movies again. They're usually less addictive but fulfilling in the same.

As always, I'll be ending this post with some talk about the most recent shows that I have been enjoying, which is kind of ironic given the previous paragraph is me just complaining about my inability to stay away from them. Lately, I have been into the ongoing Kdrama "My Lovely Liar." I think the chemistry between the main characters is great and the mystery is alluring. An 8/10 in my books.

Other than that, I've been watching "The Boys." Currently, in season three. It's one heck of a show and it's just so believable and feels like a mirror to reality. The corporate greed of pharmaceutical firms, the corruption among the people who have sworn to protect us, and how hard the world works ... only to maintain the status quo. I think it's very interesting and directly draws parallels to the real world. It's definitely a 10/10 for me. The world building, characters, humour; everything hits just right.

That's all for today. I'll do some chemistry, look over the CS50 course and fill out some forms for some official stuff today and kickstart the productivity challenge tomorrow. I'll try to be more active on tumblr during the 100 days as I need something to keep me accountable. Here is to hoping for better me's and better days and better outcomes.

[debonairrose]

there is good in the world. there is bad in the world.

a little bad is enough to outweigh a lot of good.

this world is bad. horrible to live in. human kind is not kind. people eat each other. we live in a dog eat dog world. not a human world. no man is good if he doesn't not do anything to fight evil. it doesn't matter if you're weak. if you don't work on getting stronger then you're complicit in wrong doing.

you can't tell yourself "this does not concern me". because we're stuck on this planet together, we need to hold each other accountable.

you can't stand by and let evil doers do their act. if you do, then you have no right to be mad at others if they stand by when your land is pillaged and your loved ones are raped. i am not afraid to die fighting evil. i know that god will compensate me and that this life is a test. but i will not die in vein, i will make sure to make my death worth it if it ever came to it. i don't mind suffering if it makes someone else suffer a little less. otherwise i'm a weak and a worthless scum. if you don't agree with me then i hope you do not complain when someone bombs your house and kills your family. if you think love and kindness is the answer and the only answer. you can go ahead and hug that guy who raped your daughter or pillaged your town or killed your parents or ruined your childhood. i prefer to act differently. even if it takes 40 years. i will become stronger and i will not forget the evil things people have done to each other.

i despise people who think getting a college degree, a job, a car, a house and a family is a life goal. who think that's enough. what a worthless life that would be. you aim so low that you spend your entire life achieving ordinary things. you only have one life yet you treat it like you'll get a thousand others so why care about this one in particular.

Seriously? what a pitiful life goal that is. when you stand before god, do you wish to impress god or please him by telling him that you spent 40 years getting a house and raising two kids. and then a load of silence... seriously? that's all? did you even try that hard? did you even stop once and think if that's enough or is there something more you could've done. is that all you could've done? seriously, ask this yourself, as a challenge, "was that all i could've given, or did i not live to my full potential."

doubt yourself, if it means you can become greater.

if you believe all life is special, then by definition a guy who murders your loved ones is equally special. if everyone is special then by definition no one is...

how about... all life is worthless except those who are actually fighting for their lives, fighting to live better. fighting to protect your rights and land and groceries and friends and preserve your morals.

if my text offends you and you've kept reading this far then wake up and get offended by yourself. as ridiculous as that sounds, it is even more ridiculous to let culture steer your mind and aspirations, telling you what is your purpose, what is enough, how to live.

especially if that culture's whole focus is consuming, consuming and degeneracy, and "taking it easy and having fun'.

[b0n3s-is-gay]

May I request Makoto Naegi who catches his female! roommate/ best friend getting off with a few sex toys?

Can the reader also be short, small chested and have nipple piercings as well :3

Hehehehe, absolutely Anon! also it's funny cause I was going to put on some music and my youtube profile is Makoto 💀

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I'm Right here though

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Tags: Modern AU, Smut, Voyerism, Toy usage, Friends to lovers, hidden feelings, Nipple peircings, pulling on nipple peircings, virginity loss, Swith! Reader and Makoto

summary: While you were taking a test run on your brand new toy, your best friend, Makoto Naegi, walks in on your little test. he decides to let you ride and try something new and better than a piece of silicon. why not have a bit of fun with his crush, No?

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I rushed into my house and slammed the door shut. My head was running with excitement because I just got my package of new toy to play with. I hope Makoto isn't home... But then again I'm not complaining if he is though.

I ran up the stairs and into my room. My hands were clutching the package, I was so ready to pry open the package that it hurt. I jumped on my bed and ripped open my package. My newest toy had just come in, a vibrating dildo. It was black and was around 7 and a half inches.

"Quite a nice size... I guess I was expecting it to be a bit smaller..." I whispered to myself while discarding my shorts and underwear. I was about to turn it on when I got an idea. I tossed my shirt to the side as I pulled on my peircings on my chest.

I moaned out as I switched the toy on while still pulling at the little rings that adorned my chest. I grabbed the toy and started moving it. "Fuck... Makoto~ you feel so good!" I whispered-moaned as I rode the vibrating toy.

I was so consumed in the feelings, I didn't notice that the door to our shared apartment had opened up signifying that Makoto was infact probably hearing my siren like moans. "Fuuck~ Makoto... You make me feel so good, I wonder if the real thing is better!" I moaned out in euphoria. I squeezed my eyes shut as I slammed down on the vibrating toy again. My door creaked open as I kept enjoying the feeling of being so full.

Makoto stood there watching me get off on a fake dick while moaning his name like it was a song that only you would sing for him. He felt slightly jealous because he was standing right here while you rode a fake dick when he has a real one that'll bring you so much more pleasure than a lose bit of motors and silicon. His dick trobbed as he watched you scream his name as you clenched around the toy.

"Hey, Y/n... maybe you should let me take you for a real ride compared to that piece of junk..." He whispered as he came to touch your sensitive body that was still heaving for air. "I can make you feel even better, besides it's not like you'd mind, Right? You were screaming not even 1 minute ago."

"Sure Mako, just put some protection on. I don't want a little us walking around, Do we?" I laughed as I turned over on my back. "Your already hard, Mako? Damn didn't take you for a perv!"

"Shut up, now come here. Before we do this, I want you to know that I am a virgin. So I may not last the longest but I'll make you feel the best." I watched as his face turned the same shade of a rose. How cute~

"Well don't just stand there Koto, if your really the big strong guy that you claim you are then prove it. If you want pleasure then come and get some!" I chuckled while sitting up. I felt him grab my waist and pull me close. "GAh-" I squealed while feeling him using the momentum to push himself inside my gaping hole.

"Fuuuuck~ you feel even better than I thought you would." Makoto moaned as he slowly started moving. I laughed at him while slowly leaning up to kiss him. His lips tasted like chocolate and green curry, probably from his lunch earlier... Maybe I should send him off with some tomorow for lunch. I didn't even feel him move more

I smiled as I felt him stall in his thrusts, "Mako, let me take a turn while you lay down." I whispered while flipping positions whith him on the bed with me strattling him. "How cute!" I said while slamming down on him. Makoto moaned my name out while tensing up underneath me.

"I'm almost there Makoto, just try and h-hold out a little longer." I said while grinding down on him. His face scrunched up from pleasure as I chased my high. I kept slamming down on him while moaning as he just watch his best friend get off to his body.

"Ngh- Mako, come on. You can cum~ cum for me!" I said while clenching around him again. He didn't even care as he came, his voice let out a booming groan as he gripped onto my arm. I cringed as he had my forearm in an iron hold.

"Damn, that felt even better than I thought it would." He said while sighing. He looked over at me and whispered something.

"Maybe I'll get to do this again. Maybe, I'll be the one in charge."

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A/n: Soory if it took a bit and the other anon, I am going through some stuff so It'll take a bit

[a-student-out-of-time]

Everyone is acting horrified about this reveal and I am to a extend but I’m more enraged then horrified. This because I loathe white lies, and the fact the Kisaragi Foundation did that plus lied about a ton of other stuff beforehand, means I’m far less willing to trust anything they say. What if they knew who the Basilisk was but haven’t said anything about it because they cannot accept that person wants them dead? As someone who has been white lied to multiple times it hurts MORE. - Review Anon

//First of all, I want to be clear that I'm sorry that happened to you so much, and I know things have been difficult for you concerning this sort of thing

//But this is also not what's going on here, and if I'm being honest, I feel that you're letting these personal problems bleed into your interpretation of these events.

//They didn't lie about anything, they were waiting until the group had completed their other missions and had met the right people before giving them the full story. What was the alternative? Telling them straight up that the horrible future with Tsumugi would come to pass because of Hajime's actions?

//Not to mention, unlike the rest of us, Hajime does not want to kill her or Mizuta. That's what this arc is actually supposed to be about, Hajime having to reconcile with this choices, and yet you're still talking about how the Foundation was wrong for not telling them from the start

//Would that have really helped with this situation when it came up? Really? No, it would've made everything they were trying to achieve more difficult, because that's all anyone would've been able to think about. Hajime's actions unintentionally caused this.

//I understand that you don't like white lies, but as someone who's lived with crippling anxiety and a heavy guilt complex, I'll tell you that the idea of knowing that you're responsible for something awful that caused a lot of real harm, isn't something that sits well with you even years after the fact.

//Yes, ideally, knowing ahead of time would allow you to prepare for that and eventually come to terms with it, but some people don't. They simply don't, and that fear and guilt can consume your entire life if you're not careful.

//There's a big difference between a straight up lie and things like a need-to-know basis or a cover story meant to protect the well-being of the people involved.

//It's clear you and I have very tangibly different life experiences, and thus readings of these events. You don't have to agree with what they did, of course, but if you're going to continue to insist that they're wrong and untrustworthy, I'm going have to ask you to stop.

//You sent me an ask complaining about your dad being involved with someone much younger than him, and I had absolutely no idea how to respond. It made me super awkward and uncomfortable.

//I'm not accusing you of anything, but your reading of this story and insistence that these people are the real villains has made writing this a lot harder than I wanted it to be. Trying to get this arc started was honestly one of the most miserable writing experiences I've had in a while.

//Rather than anyone getting invested in the story, I was getting bombarded with asks about how I must've forgotten what happened before, or how I'm just trying to do damage control. Scarcely as many people were actually trying to move the story forward, and it left me feeling pissed off all morning.

//I completely understand why you hate white lies, but please remember that this is just a story, not a treatise on why lying is okay actually and that you're a bad person for not trusting people blindly. Nobody's asking you to do that, I'm not asking you to do that, and even the people in the story aren't suggesting that. You're right, it is stupid.

//I just hope you can understand that, while I appreciate your contributions, if you're going to be a reviewer, please don't let your personal issues bleed into your writing and cause you read things in the text that aren't actually there.

//That makes it much harder to get across what's actually going on, because then it's all people will be thinking about. I'm not blaming you and I'm not saying your issues are wrong, but please try to be objective about these things in the future.

//I myself find killing morally abhorrent, but I'm writing a story about someone with that view having to confront the idea that everyone who he disagrees with might actually be right about this. It's not something I like to think about, but it's something I've wanted to tackle for a while.

//Stories provide avenues for us to explore new ideas, even ones we disagree with. All I ask is that you look at what's being said objectively and analyze things that are being said, not jumping to the worst possible interpretation because you've decided the people involved are completely untrustworthy.

//I wish you well, and I just hope you keep this in mind going forward.