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#this is again not even getting into the fact that this is an issue of governance and not the state
soaps-mohawk · 2 days
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 19: Daddy Issues
Summary: Your pack is back home, but things aren't quite as good as you try to make them seem. Some truths get revealed, while others remain in the dark.
Pairings: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 9,337 words
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, '09 Ghost's backstory, mentioned abuse/child abuse, still pretty heavy emotionally, language, finally some of the comfort after the hurt, plenty of fluff
A/N: This stupid fic making me cry again. I may have lied about this one not being quite as heavy as the others...it's still pretty heavy, but there are some sweet moments in there too. There is a bit of a time jump in the middle, it's roughly a week long or so. Not much, but it does cut ahead a bit just for the sake of plot and moving things along. Also yeah, I got it done earlier than expected.
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You’re warm. Sweat has begun to form in the creases of your body. You’re wrapped around something solid, something contributing to the intense warmth. The smell of leather and eucalyptus fills your nose as you nuzzle your face against soft fabric. It sends a shiver down your spine despite the heat, your eyes fluttering open. You’re staring at a blurry mass of black fabric, your brain beginning to catch up as you become more and more aware. 
Leather. Eucalyptus. Something distinctly alpha. 
Fuck. 
You’re spooning Ghost. 
He has to be asleep, otherwise he would never let you get so close to him. He would have shoved you off, pushed you back towards Johnny, who you’ve traded places with in the middle of the night. You must have gotten too hot sandwiched between the two betas and tried to escape somewhere cooler. That led to you spooning with Ghost, not that he’s much cooler than the betas. 
You can get away before he wakes up, remove yourself from his personal space before he realizes and forces you away. Avoid the shame and embarrassment of his rejection, his anger at you for crossing that boundary, even just in your sleep. Despite the fact you know that boundary is there, despite the fact you did it unintentionally, you’re not sure you could handle such a rejection right now, even from him. 
You slowly begin to withdraw your arm from around his middle, sliding it back towards your body. If you go slow enough, you should be able to untangle yourself from around him without waking him and avoid a confrontation. 
A quiet gasp is pulled from your lips as his hand wraps around your wrist, keeping you from moving. 
“Don’t.” He says quietly. 
Your heart is thudding in your chest as he tugs your arm back around him, keeping you where you are. Your exhale is shaky as you slowly relax, pressing your face against his back again. You’re not sure what to do. You were expecting him to push you away, get up in disgust and leave because you got too close, you pushed past the barrier he had placed around himself when it came to you. A barrier that got let down only while you’re training, then it’s put right back up as soon as you’re finished. Now here you are, spooning him after sleeping in the same room, the same nest. 
You wouldn’t have taken him for being a little spoon type. 
Your eyes begin to droop again as you lay there, breathing in Ghost’s scent. It’s like a comforting blanket, lulling you into a sense of relaxation, of safety, something you haven’t felt in days. For the first time your mind is quiet, not panicking about what happened, or what could happen. You don’t have to worry about your pack now, because they’re here with you again. 
You drift off to sleep again for a while, sleeping soundly in the cocoon of safety your pack has provided for you. 
You wake a while later, sticky with sweat. Your back is pressed against Ghost’s, and there’s something draped across your face. You push it away, blinking your eyes open. Johnny has starfished across the nest on his back, his mouth open as he snores. He’s stolen your bear, one arm holding it against his chest, and the other arm had been what was draped across your face. Kyle is curled up on his other side, having moved from the middle to the far side of the nest. John is missing, making your brows furrow. 
You push yourself up to sit, the air in the room almost like a sauna. You rub your eyes, trying to blink away the sleepiness. That might have been the best sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. It was likely the exhaustion taking its toll, paired with your brain finally being able to relax while surrounded by your pack.
You feel like you could lay down and sleep for another ten hours. 
You’re warm, though, sweat causing your clothes to stick to your skin. The blankets have all been kicked to the end of the mattresses, likely ditched early on in the night. You wiggle out of your sweatpants, kicking them off the end of the mattress as well, leaving you in a baggy shirt that you think is Johnny’s. 
You feel suddenly exposed sitting there, your eyes flicking around the room as a chill runs down your spine. John would have noticed if something was out of place, but he could have just brushed it off as you in his room. He had given you permission to be in his space while he was gone, if you needed to. One of them would have noticed if things were out of place in their rooms. Ghost would likely notice, since you haven’t been in his room at all. 
You lay back down on your back, staring up at the vent on the ceiling. The cover is in place, and no matter how hard you look, you can’t see a camera hiding in the gaps. It doesn’t ease your worry any as you stare up at it, wishing you had your phone so you could at least try to look for one. Though, perhaps it was better you didn’t have your phone with you. You hadn’t been brave enough to pop it open and look for anything strange hidden inside, though you wouldn’t even know where to begin to look, or what to look for. 
You should tell them. What if someone is watching you right now? 
You flinch as John appears in the doorway suddenly, five water bottles tucked against his chest. Your skin is crawling from the thought of someone watching, someone listening in on such a private moment with you and your pack. You hadn’t even thought about it last night, the stress and your fear had taken over your mind. You push yourself back up to sit as John passes Ghost a water bottle, handing one to you as well. You unscrew the cap as John places the other bottles on his desk. Johnny and Kyle still asleep, unaware of the world. 
Unaware of the danger. 
A cold shiver slips down your spine as you gulp down the water. What if someone had entered the barracks last night? You weren’t in your room, and the door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have just walked in and put up cameras again easily. 
One of the guys would have heard someone snooping around, right? You were so out of it you likely would have slept through one of them getting up. What if they were also so exhausted from their deployment they could have slept through someone breaching their space as well. Did Ghost lock the door last night? You can’t remember. 
“Alright, sweetheart?” 
Your head snaps up to where John is leaning against his desk. His brows are slightly furrowed as he stares at you, and you realize you’ve been projecting your scent. With them gone, you didn't have to worry as much. You could stink up a room without a care. It just meant more protection for you. Now that they’re back, though, you have to be more careful. You can’t just go panicking over nothing, not that you should have to panic while they’re here. 
That’s their job, right? Protect the omega? 
They can’t protect you if they don’t know there’s a threat in the first place. 
“Yeah.” You say, gulping down more water to think up an excuse quickly. “Thought I might be dreaming for a moment, that you didn't really come back.” 
John approaches you slowly, kneeling down on the end of the mattress with a quiet sigh. He has to be sore after their deployment. You can tell just by the way he’s holding his shoulders, by the stiffness in the way he moves. You can’t even begin to imagine the kinds of things they did, the kinds of things they went through over the last week. 
John takes your hand, pressing it against his chest. He’s warm underneath the shirt, and you can feel the steady beating of his heart under your palm. “We’re real.” He says, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he holds it against his chest. “We’re really here.” 
You stare at his hand where it covers yours. You’ve seen it before, many times. Scarred and rough with calluses. His knuckles are dry and just slightly bruised. Did he punch someone? Or maybe he hit it against something else. 
His hand moves, snapping you out of your thoughts. You fight the urge to flinch as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You’re thinking too much.” 
You swallow thickly. “Well, I didn’t have much to do this last week besides think.” 
A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “We’ll try to make life more interesting for you, then.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get these two muppets up for breakfast.” 
He pushes himself back up to stand, staring down at Johnny and Kyle, still sleeping. You shift onto your hands and knees, crawling over to Johnny before swinging a leg over to straddle his stomach. You lean forward, planting your hands on either side of his face, his breath catching as he begins to wake up, sensing a disturbance. You stare down at him, watching his eyes flutter before they crack open. The haze of sleep leaves his blue eyes, clarity coming back to him quickly as his lips begin to lift in a grin as he stares up at you. 
“Didnae expect tae wake up to such a sight.” He says, voice thick with sleep as his hands come to rest on your bare thighs. “A beautiful woman on top of me? I must’ve died and gone tae heaven in my sleep.” 
“Even better,” You say, leaning down closer. “Because I’m real.” 
“That ye are.” He says, slowly dragging his hands up your legs, pushing the shirt up as he goes. 
Ghost pushes himself off the mattress, leaving the room so quickly he nearly knocks his shoulder against the doorframe. A frown pulls at your brows as you watch him go, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit on Johnny’s stomach. Guilt starts to well up in you as you stare at the empty doorway. You hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable. 
“Don’t mind him, kitten.” Johnny says, pushing himself up to sit, sliding you backwards into his lap. “He’s still miffed he didn’t get a greetin’ yesterday.” 
“Oh,” You say, blinking in surprise. You hadn’t even thought about greeting Ghost in that moment. You had been so desperate for your alpha, and then swept up by the betas, it hadn’t even crossed your mind to acknowledge Ghost. “I didn’t-” 
“It’s not yer fault.” Johnny says, wrapping his arms around you. “He hasnae been the most...open with ye. It’s his own damn fault for it.” 
“Oh, well, I’ll be sure to give him a big hug when he comes back in.” You say. 
“Please do.” Kyle says, rubbing his eyes where he’s laying next to you. “I’ll pay to see his reaction.” 
All three of you burst out laughing, Johnny pressing his forehead against yours. “Missed ye, kitten.” 
“Not as much as I missed you.” You say, pouting. 
Johnny chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His hands slide to your hips as he presses another soft kiss to your lips, and then another. 
“Let me get in on some of that.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to sit. He grips your chin in his hand, turning your face to his before pressing his lips to yours. 
His kiss takes your breath away, deeper and more passionate than Johnny’s had been. You hum against his lips as Johnny’s grip on your waist tightens. 
“Christ almighty.” Johnny breathes, staring at you and Kyle as you kiss. 
“Alright, you three.” John says as the air in the room starts to turn musky with arousal. “Let’s feed our omega first before we get too carried away.” 
Kyle pulls away from you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. 
“Can we...eat in here again?” You ask, wrapping an arm around Johnny’s shoulders as you turn slightly to look up at John. You had almost forgotten about his presence, caught up in the attention from your betas. The thought of him watching the three of you has a different kind of thrill racing down your spine. 
“Of course.” John says, bending down to kiss you. 
Both Johnny and Kyle groan at the sight of their pack alpha kissing you, Johnny’s cock twitching in his boxers beneath you. You press a kiss to Johnny’s cheek after John pulls away from you before pushing yourself up to stand. You stretch your arms over your head, the shirt riding up a bit, giving both Kyle and Johnny a good view of your legs. The musky scent of arousal intensifies in the air as they stare at you, Johnny licking his lips hungrily. 
“Alright, get out of here you cheeky little minx, otherwise they’ll never get out of bed.” John says, gently guiding you from the room. 
You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you leave John’s room, stepping out into the hallway. It’s much cooler outside of the room, goosebumps forming on your legs. You have half a mind to go back to your own room, but you find yourself unable to even approach the door. Memories of the fear and your panic come flooding back, the thought that someone might have snuck inside, someone might be waiting for you in there snapping to the front of your mind. It’s a ridiculous thought. Someone would have noticed if there was an intruder, if there was someone who shouldn’t be inside creeping around. 
Your gaze flickers from your door as Ghost makes his way down the hallway, his clothes changed from what he’d been wearing to sleep in. You bite your lip as you stare at him, meeting his gaze. Perhaps it's the fear driving you forward, or maybe you’ve gone slightly crazy in their absence, but you find yourself approaching him, making him stop in his tracks. 
He eyes you as you approach, your steps quick as you try to avoid chickening out. Your mind is repeating Johnny’s words over and over in your head, an explanation for Ghost’s behavior yesterday, and obvious annoyance at you and Johnny this morning. You wonder if he’ll take it as a threat as you get closer to him, if he might snap and defend himself. He’s completely still, not even his chest moving. He’s watching you like a predator watches its prey, waiting for your next move. 
It’s like hugging a tree as you wrap your arms around his waist. He’s stiffer than a board as you hug him, resting your face on his chest. Leather and eucalyptus and musk all float around you as you press close to him, his scent enveloping you in a hug, even if his body doesn’t follow suit. 
“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 
“Hugging you.” You say, tightening your hold around him. You’ve been this close to him before in your training, but this feels different. “I’m sorry for not greeting you on the tarmac. I wasn’t really thinking clearly at that point.” 
He lets out a quiet sigh, something you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t so close to him. You can imagine it’s a sigh of exasperation at Johnny for spilling about his feelings. “It’s fine.” He says, awkwardly patting your back. “Don’t know why you would have wanted to.” 
“Well, you are part of the pack.” You say. “That should be enough reason.” 
You nuzzle your face against his chest, his scent going straight to the back of your brain. Your omega wants to roll in it, cover herself in it until it’s all you can smell. The intensity of his scent has something in your hindbrain purring, the sound rumbling through your chest. 
Ghost puts his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back from him. You blink up at him blearily as your mind begins to clear a bit with the distance. “At least put some pants on before you completely lose it.” He grumbles. 
A small smile tugs at your lips before it falls at the thought of having to go into your room. You turn to face the door, your vision almost tunneling as you stare at it. You don’t want to open it. You don’t want to go in there. 
“Ghost?” You say quietly before he can walk away. 
He turns to look at you, his eyes squinting just slightly as he frowns. “What?” 
“Will you...will you open my door for me?” You shift your weight, knowing he’s going to want a reason, an explanation for your behavior. 
He turns fully to face you, shoulders squared as he slowly approaches, suddenly on the defensive. “What is it?” 
You shake your head. “Just a feeling.” 
He steps between you and the door, wrapping his fingers around the handle before he swings it open, scanning the inside. His shoulders relax just slightly and you let out a breath of air. There’s no one inside. No one’s waiting for you. No one broke in last night. 
He takes a step back before turning to you. “Nothing.” 
You let out a sigh of relief, staring into the space that was once your nest, your safe place. You can feel Ghost’s eyes on you, waiting for an explanation for your behavior. You can’t tell him the truth, despite how easy it would be. You could confess right now, admit to what happened, what you did, the mistake you made. You could drop to your knees right now, beg for forgiveness for what you did. 
“It was hard...while everyone was gone.” You say. It’s not a lie. Not entirely. “Made me uneasy, being alone here. Kept thinking I was hearing things.” 
He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his eyes. He knows your lying, he knows you’re withholding the truth from him. You aren’t, you just aren’t giving him the whole truth. You had felt lonely, you had been on edge even before General Shepherd arrived and your room was bugged. Being alone was hard. Harder than you thought it would be. It would have taken its toll on you, even without the stress of your space being invaded multiple times. 
You should have told someone. You should have called Dr. Keller right away. You should have never opened the door in the first place. 
“Thank you.” You say, slipping past him and entering your room. 
He stands there for a few breaths, watching you warily as you open your closet, looking for something to wear. You ignore him, acting like he’s not there, but you can’t hide the squaring of your shoulders, the stiffness of your movements. You’re not sure you could resist if he pressed, if he tried to force you to tell him. You’d spill immediately, even without him using his alpha against you. 
The thought has another chill racing down your spine. 
Your omega is on edge as you change with the door open, not caring as the guys move around, getting dressed to head out to grab breakfast for everyone. You hate how inconvenient it must be, but you still don’t think you could handle being in the mess. Not yet. Not so soon. You’ll have to eventually, otherwise they’ll think something is up, happened, and then they’ll start questioning. 
You couldn’t handle an interrogation. Especially not their disappointed and angry faces when you confess to what you did, the mistakes you made, how you allowed someone to walk in so easily. How you left so easily with a stranger. They’d never trust you again. 
They won’t trust you if you keep things from them either. 
They have to know. They have to know General Shepherd came to base and talked to you. They have to know about you meeting their superior while they were away. A high ranking General couldn’t just be on base without someone knowing, and why would he hide it? He had come to check in on your progress and how you were settling in with your pack. He would have included your pack in that questioning as well, right? Besides, there has to be cameras everywhere on base. Someone would have seen you and let them know. 
There’s no way they don’t know about it. 
You stand in the doorway of your bathroom, staring at the cabinet where the broken cameras and recording devices are hidden. They’re broken, you ensured that. They’re hidden away, buried under enough stuff no one could find them unless they were purposefully looking for something. 
You let out a breath, trying to relax as you finish your morning routine. It’s over. There’s nothing that can be done now. All you can do is try to move on, try to mend the fraying bonds with your pack, heal the sense of fear and unease surrounding your safe space. 
Maybe Dr. Keller could help. You could admit everything to her, everything that happened while she was supposed to be watching you. If you had just gone to her office that afternoon, perhaps things would have been different. She would have known, but that wouldn’t have stopped the cameras from being put up. It would have just made it easier for them. Maybe they might have finished the job properly, and you wouldn’t have even known. Even if you had called Dr. Keller, what kind of argument could she have made against a Commanding Officer? 
If you told Dr. Keller now, she’d tell your pack. She’s promised to keep everything between you confidential, but would something like this be an exception? Would she tell your pack anyway because she thinks it’s the best course of action to help you? 
You want to cry. Tears are welling in your eyes as you stare in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself. You look tired, strung out, sickly almost. Are you not, though? Is that not how you feel? You know omegas can get sick from stress sometimes, if it gets to be too much. You don’t want to get sick. You don’t want to be more of a burden than you’re already being. They have to be so tired after their assignment, and here you are making things harder for them. 
“You alright, love?” 
You jump, letting out a shriek as you whip around to face the door of your room. Your heart is racing as you slap a hand over your mouth, staring wide-eyed at an equally surprised Kyle. You let out a breath, slowly lowering your trembling hand as you try to calm yourself. It’s just Kyle sneaking up on you. Not a stranger. 
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He says, brows pinching in a frown. 
“‘S okay.” You murmur, turning off the light before leaving the bathroom. “Was lost in thought.” 
“The others left to grab food.” Kyle says. “They’ll be back shortly.” 
You nod, trying hard not to make your trembling too visible, or give any hint at your discomfort. “Okay.” 
You stare at him as he leans against the doorframe. He hasn’t entered your room. He’s still standing in the doorway. The thought has a lump forming in your throat. Your bonds have frayed so much he doesn’t even feel comfortable entering your space anymore. There’s a wall up again, and you’re only forcing it higher and higher. 
“Come on.” He says, holding his hand out to you. “Let’s go to the rec room.” 
You take his offered hand, letting him pull you from your room. The door clicks closed behind you as you let him lead you down the hallway and away from the place that’s become fuel for your nightmares. 
Kyle sits down on the couch, pulling you down on his lap. You wrap your arm around his neck as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in his warmth and scent. 
“I’m sorry for startling you.” He says softly, bringing your other hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to your wrist. 
“It’s not your fault.” You say, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Been on edge since everyone left.” 
“I bet.” Kyle leans his cheek against the top of your head. “We’re here now. We’re gonna fix that.” 
“What happens when you have to leave again?” You ask. 
“You won’t be alone again, that’s for sure.” A different voice says. 
You nearly jump out of Kyle’s lap as John appears in the doorway of the rec room, Johnny and Ghost right behind him. Kyle’s arms are the only thing keeping you steady as your heart nearly beats out of your chest. You’re not sure how much more you can take, intentionally or unintentionally. 
“I spoke with Kate this morning.” John says as he sets the food he’s carrying on the coffee table. “We’re going to do everything in our power to avoid having you left alone again. At least one of us will be staying behind with you from now on.” 
Your brows pinch a little. Is that why he had been absent from the nest earlier? You’re not quite sure what to feel. On one hand you’re relieved at the thought of not having to be alone again, but on the other hand, you don’t want to disrupt their lives, their jobs. You wonder just how hard he had to fight to even get Kate to agree to something like this. 
You also feel a bit afraid that they know, they figured out what had happened and that’s the reason they don’t trust to leave you alone again. You’ll make another stupid mistake or another risky decision that might cause you actual harm next time. 
Kyle eases you off his lap and onto the couch beside him. Johnny sits on your other side, squishing you between them as a tray is passed into your hands. You don’t feel very hungry as you stare down at the food, but you know after a meager dinner last night, you need to eat. You won’t be doing you or your pack any favors by being hungry. 
It’s quiet in the rec room as you eat. It’s almost eerie how silent it is, aside from the occasional scrape of silverware on the trays. You begin to float back into the time when they were gone, the haunting silence that had settled over the barracks in their absence. Everything had seemed so still, not peaceful, but more like the very walls were holding their breath. 
Perhaps it was in anticipation for what was to come. Perhaps somehow the very walls knew they would be beached, the safety they once promised would be upended. 
Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. 
You shift forward on the couch, careful not to tip your tray over as you grab the remote from the coffee table, turning the TV on. 
“Finally! I couldnae handle the silence much longer.” Johnny exclaims, letting out a relieved sigh. 
The corners of your lips pull up in a smile as you pass the remote off to him, letting him search for something bearable to watch on early morning TV. You’re glad at least you weren’t alone in your distaste for the silence. You curl up closer to Gaz, reminding yourself that it’s not a dream, that they really are here. They really did come back. 
Now you just have to move on and put the nightmare of what happened behind you. 
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As the days pass, things begin to return to normal. The guys start their normal routine of training and running drills almost immediately. To avoid being stuck in the barracks alone, you ask to go with them, blaming it on the distance and your need to be clingy still. At first you were afraid someone would take advantage of the barracks being empty again, but every search has come up empty handed. No more cameras, no more recording devices. 
Whoever it was who planted them must have given up, or perhaps the risk of doing it with the entire pack back on base was too high. 
Despite this fact, you spend the least amount of time in your room as possible. Even when you can’t go to watch them train or run drills, you spend your time in John’s room, or in the rec room. At night you rotate between John, Kyle, and Johnny, opting to sleep with them over spending a night alone in your room. 
As you discussed, you begin seeing Dr. Keller twice a week. You’re not quite sure what she told John to convince him it was necessary, but whatever it was, it hadn’t given away any of your secrets. It probably hadn’t taken much to convince him to say yes, given your current state and his worry about you. 
You know he’s worried. You can see it when he looks at you, like you might snap if he stares too hard. You’ve seen the way his hands twitch when Johnny holds you too tightly or gets too rough in his affection, like he’s worried you might shatter.
It’s reassuring to see the distance has not just affected you. Johnny holds you tighter than he used to, Kyle stands closer to you like he’s trying to fuse you both into one. Even Ghost has started hovering closer, using his hands to steer you and guide you when you’re around others that aren’t part of your pack. 
You’ve started eating in the mess again, knowing you can only avoid it for so long before they’ll start getting suspicious and asking questions. You still feel paranoid, being around the other soldiers on base. You can’t help but be suspicious that it was one of them that planted the cameras, that it was one of them that tried to get into your room that night. Who would willingly breach such sacred ground and invade an omega’s space like that, you couldn’t even begin to guess.  
Sure, some of them still stare at you, but most of them now ignore your existence. You’re no longer a spectacle, not after a few weeks on base, not that you’re a claimed omega now. 
That won’t stop some alphas. 
Going up against your pack, though? That would take one hell of a cocksure alpha. 
Just like the one that invaded your safe space. 
It had to have been an alpha. Sure, that beta soldier had entered the barracks, but to go so far as to put up cameras and try to come back and get into your room? That takes a special kind of audacity, something only an alpha could possess. 
So life has gone back to normal, or at least as normal as it can be after what happened. 
The return to normal hasn’t all been good, though. Your nightmares have returned, coming on quickly as soon as you began to settle into routine again. The real nightmare has passed, so now your mind has to plague itself with nightmares that have already happened. Things that can’t even hurt you anymore. 
You start avoiding sleep again, despite your work with Dr. Keller, too afraid to risk having a nightmare in front of one of them again. The last thing you need is to have to spill about your nightmare. You might not be able to stop and wind up spilling about what happened while they were gone too. 
Unfortunately, things don’t work that way. They never work that way for you. 
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Someone is screaming. Your body feels like it’s being constricted by a snake, crushing and painful as you’re clutched desperately against your mother’s chest. She’s the one that’s screaming, the sound hurting your ears. Your face is pressed against her shoulder, into the softness of her sweater. It’s the pink one, the one she made. Her favorite. 
There’s knocking coming from somewhere, a door handle jiggling. It’s locked, but you can hear someone trying to get in, multiple people based on the voices from the other side. You don’t know who it is. You don’t recognize any of them. You can’t even make out what it is their saying, if they’re saying anything at all. The voices sound more like the unintelligible roar of monsters, the ones you used to be afraid of as a child. 
Everything is muted by the blood pulsing in your ears, drowning out everything but the jiggling of the door handle. Someone’s trying to break in. Someone is breaking in. You can make out the thuds against the door, the desperate attempts to get inside, to get to you. 
The arms around you tighten, pressing your face harder into the soft yarn of the sweater. You inhale the familiar scent of brown sugar and vanilla, the scent surrounding you and enveloping you in a sense of safety. Nothing can get you. Nothing can hurt you. 
That’s not true, though. You know it’s not. 
There’s a bang as the door is finally forced open, the screaming getting louder as footsteps enter the room. You’re shaking, trembling in your mother’s arms as she clings to you desperately, just like you used to cling to her when you thought there was a monster under your bed. 
The monsters were real, you realize as you desperately cling to your mother, just as tightly as she’s clinging to you. 
Hands grab at you, claws digging into your skin, tentacles wrapping around your body, trying to pull you from your mother’s grip. You can hear her pleading, begging, screaming at them not to take you, not to separate you. You’ll never see her again if they manage to pull you from her. They’ll take you away, hide you away, keep you from the warm comfort of her embrace. 
You let out a scream of your own as you’re yanked from her grasp, your arms reaching for her as the monsters pull you from the source of your safety and comfort. The last thing you see is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door slams in your face. 
A scream tears from your lips as you’re pulled from sleep suddenly. You’re falling, hitting the tile floor with a thud. Your shoulder cracks against the unforgiving floor, making you yelp. The blanket has tangled around your legs, rendering you immobile from the waist down. 
The frantic pounding of boots on the floor meets your ears, seconds before the four members of your pack are sprinting into the rec room. Their faces look just as frantic as their steps had been, concern laced with fear laced with worry. You hadn’t even realized they’d returned already. They had been at their afternoon drills while you stayed in the rec room watching TV, slowly succumbing to the exhaustion that’s been plaguing you. 
“What is it? What happened?” Kyle asks, moving to step forward but John beats him to it. 
“Fell off the couch.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit, wincing at the pain in your shoulder. There’s tears sliding down your cheeks despite you fighting the remnants of your terror and pain from the nightmare. 
“I think there’s more to it than that.” John says, kneeling down in front of you. 
You want to confess everything. How you haven’t been sleeping well for weeks now since your heat, how you keep having horrible nightmares about your past, what happened while they were away, how the nightmares have returned. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at John, the tears sliding down your cheeks as you give up trying to control them. Guilt plagues you as you stare at the worried face of your alpha. He just wants to help you, he just wants to take care of you, but he can’t if you’re keeping things from him, if you’re lying to his face. 
“I had a nightmare.” You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You clutch your arm to your chest, trying not to move your shoulder too much. 
John lets out a quiet sigh, his fingers lifting to press against your shoulder, feeling around the joint. You wince as he hits a tender spot, the pain sharp, but not horrible. You’ve certainly felt worse things. 
He turns to the others behind him, all of them staring at you with equally worried looks on their faces. “Get me an ice pack.” He says before turning back to you. 
He lifts you off the floor, placing you back on the couch before untangling the blanket from around your legs. Johnny grabs an ice pack as Kyle moves to sit next to you on the couch, draping his arm across the back, projecting his scent to try and help you relax. John sits on the edge of the coffee table, staring at you. Despite the worry still present on his face, his eyes are sharp. You can’t help but feel like you’re suddenly in an interrogation. They’ve done this before, probably many times, though likely not as gently as they are now. You’re terrified still at the way they shift so easily into the mindset of a soldier. You can’t even imagine what it would be like if they were serious in their interrogation of you. 
“How long have you been having nightmares?” John asks as Johnny takes a seat on the other side of you, passing you the ice pack. 
You press it against your shoulder, trying to keep your thoughts straight. You have to try not to spill anything, try not to confess to all of your sins, all of your stupid mistakes now. Your gaze drops to your lap, avoiding the looks of the two alphas staring at you. Ghost has moved to stand behind John, his arms crossed as he watches the exchange. You can feel the pressure of their gaze, the sharpness of it digging into your skin like knives. 
“A couple weeks.” You admit, unable to even think of a lie. You don’t want to lie now, not with them staring at you so intensely. They’d know. They’d be able to tell before the words even left your mouth. “Since my heat ended.” 
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding sleeping?” John asks. 
You wince at his question. Of course he noticed. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been trained to notice weaknesses in others, gauge the capabilities of his men. Of course he’d notice you’re more tired than usual, not sleeping quite as much. He probably even knew all the times you woke up in the night when you slept next to him.  
You nod, still staring at your lap, too afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. 
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He breathes, almost sounding upset. 
You’ve made a mistake in keeping this a secret. You regret it as soon as you hear the emotion in his voice. He thinks you don’t trust them, he thinks you don’t trust your alpha. You need to tell him. You need to tell him everything, but the fear keeps you paralyzed. How much more upset will he be when you confess that you kept such a major event from him, from all of them? 
A quiet sob leaves your lips as you sit there, terrified of the reprimanding you’re sure to get. The shame burns hot in you, the reminder that you’ve disappointed them. You’ve let them down and now they won’t even trust you to tell them anything. 
“We’re not mad at you, sweetheart.” Gaz says, shifting his arm so it’s wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb brushing the hand that’s holding the ice pack to your shoulder. Johnny shifts just slightly closer to you, both of the betas projecting their scent around you, trying to cocoon you in their comforting presence. 
“I just want to know why you felt it necessary to hide something like that from us.” John says, his voice softer than it had been before. 
“I didn’t want to bother you.” You find the words spilling out before you can stop them. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the fear or your brain finally getting tired of holding everything in. This is your moment to let out a little steam, to finally release some of the pressure that’s been building. “My nightmares are nothing compared to the ones you all probably have and it’s stupid and I shouldn’t even be having them, it’s been years since the last time I dreamed like this, and I don’t even know why they’ve come back now.” 
“No nightmares are stupid.” Ghost says, stepping up closer to the coffee table. 
“We’re here to help you.” John says, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We can’t do that if you don’t tell us what’s going on.” 
Guilt burns through you at his words. He’s right. You should be honest with them, tell them everything. They can’t help you, they can’t keep you safe even from the things that plague your mind if they don’t know about them. 
“What are the dreams about?” John asks, blue eyes boring holes into you. 
You feel small under his gaze, like you're a child again, facing down your father after doing something wrong, after making a mistake. You have made a mistake, though. You’re facing the consequences of your mistake right now. 
“The day I left for the institute.” You say quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper but you know they heard you in the silence of the barracks. It feels threatening, like the walls are silently vowing to tell the truth if you don’t. 
Your pack shifts a bit at your words, sharing looks amongst themselves. They have to know what it’s like, or at least heard stories about the trauma of being pulled from your pack to be taken to a strange place, surrounded by others just like you. 
“What happened that day?” Ghost asks, staring down at you. 
You can feel his gaze piercing into you, screaming the silent threat that you’re going to tell them, no matter how long they have to sit here and wait. You don’t have a choice anymore. You have to tell them. 
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You’re warm. The ice pack pressed against your forehead does little to soothe the burning under your skin. You’re thirsty, the two empty plastic bottles on your nightstand were not enough to ease the dryness in your mouth. 
Hands shift the ice pack, pressing it against your cheek. Your mother is there, seated next to your bed diligently. She’s crying, tears sliding down her cheeks, quiet sniffles breaking the silence in the house. 
“I’m sorry.” She whispers, bringing your hand to her lips. “I’m so sorry,” She apologizes, as if it’s her fault, as if she brought this onto you. 
She gasps quietly as the door opens, her back stiffening as your father enters. His face is stern, mouth almost twisted with disgust as he stares at you. It feels wrong, having him invade your space. If you’d had the energy, perhaps you would have been brave enough to protest his presence. 
“Come on.” His voice is gruff, worn down from years of smoking and yelling. “Get up.” 
“No, please-” Your mother attempts to reason with him, but he won’t have it. 
“Shut up and sit down.” He snaps at her, and she has no choice but to sit back and be silent. His voice has something tingling in the back of your neck, almost like a warning. There’s nothing you can do, though. You’re far too weak. 
He moves to the side of your bed, grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the comfort of your blankets. The ice pack falls from your head, your skin prickling with warmth almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. Your brain is sluggish as you try to comprehend what’s happening, your legs giving out as you’re forced upright. You can’t get your body to work, you can’t even force yourself to behave. You want to crawl back under your blankets and lay there for the rest of eternity. 
You whine as you’re dragged from your room, knees knocking on the floor as you attempt to get your feet under you to ease the pain in your shoulder. Your father drags you into the living room, two people you don’t recognize standing next to the front door. 
“Please, please don’t do this!” Your mother pleads with him, right on his heels as he drops you in a heap in front of them. He catches her before she can rush forward to you. How you wish you could have her arms around you again, holding you and comforting you in your confusion. 
“Enough.” Your father snaps at her, looking down at you with disgust. “She’s no daughter of mine.” 
You blink up at him, the words seering through the haze, registering in your foggy mind. Tears gather in your eyes as you stare up at your parents, your siblings watching tensely from the living room as the scene unfolds before them. 
“No, no!” You cry as hands close around your arms, lifting you from the floor. “Mama!” You scream, trying to fight them as you’re pulled from your home, your safe space, your family, your pack. 
Your mother is yelling, fighting against your father’s hold around her, but it’s useless. He’s stronger. He wants this, so no one is going to stop him. She’ll pay later for her actions, her disagreement with him. You won’t be here to see it, though. You’re leaving and you won’t be coming back. 
The last thing you see as the cool air outside washes over your feverish skin is your mother’s grief stricken face before the door closes, locking you out forever. 
You’re dragged into the back of a van parked in the driveway. Two men in uniform climb in behind you before the doors are slammed shut. You curl up in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. You want your mom, you want to be back in the safety of her arms, the warmth and comforting softness that only she can provide. 
One of the men approaches you, a needle in his hand. You whimper in fear, pressing further back into the corner as he gets closer to you. He forces you down onto your stomach, the pain brief as he injects you with the sedative before he moves back to take his seat. You curl up in a ball, quietly sobbing as the drugs begin to work, your vision going hazy before you’re forced into unconsciousness. 
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“I woke up hours later at the institute.” You say, wiping at the tears streaming down your cheeks, but it does little against the cascade of tears falling from your eyes. “Never saw or spoke to my family again. They didn’t even try to reach me, and I know my dad was the reason why. He hated me as soon as I presented.” 
“Fucking hell.” Ghost breathes, hands curled into fists at his sides. You can smell the intensity of his scent above everything, the burning ozone of anger rolling off of him. It makes you wince, even though you know it’s not directed at you. 
“That’s why he wanted to send you so quickly.” Kyle says, his arm tightening around you. 
“How did he get you into FIOT so soon after your presentation?” John asks. 
You shrug your good shoulder. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know he’d be sending me, much less so soon until it was happening.” 
“Christ,” Johnny breathes, gently taking your hand in his. “No wonder yer havin’ nightmares, kitten.” 
“I haven’t had this nightmare since I arrived at the institute. They started there, lasted a few weeks while I adjusted to being there.” You sniffle. “Haven’t had them since, until now. Dr. Keller says it’s because I finally feel safe enough to process the trauma of it happening.” 
John sits up a little straighter. “Is that why she suggested seeing you multiple times a week?” 
You nod. “We’re working on it. I asked her not to tell you, because I did plan on telling you eventually.” 
“I’m glad you told someone, at least,” He says. “And I’m glad you finally told us too. We might not be able to stop the nightmares, but at least now we can help support you in whatever way you need.” 
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You say, squeezing Johnny’s hand slightly. He was the only one that knew you were having nightmares, but you hadn’t even confessed to him what was going on out of fear he’d tell the others. 
“It’s alright, sweet girl.” John says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad it finally came out and now we can help you.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his thumb brushing your skin gently. 
The moment is broken as your stomach growls impatiently. It’s past your normal dinner time, your confession having kept you longer than you thought it would. You hadn’t gotten in your afternoon snack either, your body having chosen to nap instead. 
A small smile tugs at John’s lips. “Hungry, love?” 
You nod. “Yeah. Didn’t get my snack.” 
“We’ll go get some food and bring it here, how does that sound?” He asks. 
You nod. “Yeah. That sounds good.” 
He pushes himself up to stand, his knees cracking as he does. You fight the urge to say something, squeezing Johnny’s hand tightly. 
“I’ll stay.” Ghost says, still looking at you. 
John looks down at you and you meet Ghost’s gaze for a moment before nodding. John presses another kiss to your head, Johnny and Kyle pressing kisses to your cheeks before they get up, leaving the rec room to get dinner for everyone. 
Ghost moves from his spot on the other side of the coffee table, sinking down at the end of the couch. You fight the urge to stare at him in surprise. You’re not sure you’ve seen him sit anywhere but in the chair the entire time you’ve been here. 
It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments, aside from the occasional sniffle from you. You wipe the remaining tears from your face, removing the melted ice pack from your shoulder, tossing it on the coffee table. This feels very familiar to you, this position. You’ve been here before, back when you punched the asshole alpha who insulted you. 
“My dad was a real asshole.” 
You turn your head slightly in surprise when Ghost break’s the silence suddenly. He’s not looking at you, his gaze distant, far away. You know that look well. You’ve seen it on him before, and also on a few omegas at the institute. You’re sure it’s graced your face as well many times. 
“He was a trad alpha, real piece of shit who couldn’t control his anger. Took it out on all of us. My mum, my brother, me.” He scoffs. “Mum took the brunt of it, but Tommy and I faced our fair share of it too. He used to bring dangerous animals home and taunted us with them. Made me kiss a snake once. He did all kinds of horrible things to us.” His voice softens a bit in a way you’ve never heard before. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, not even when he told you about his own nightmares. “I’ve never wanted an omega, because of the things my dad did to my mum. I never wanted a pack either, but...maybe something deep down in me did because I said yes to this whole experiment.” 
The silence hangs heavy between you for a moment. You’re not sure what to say, or if you can even manage to say anything in response to what he’s just told you. You had no idea what his life was like growing up, except that he was also a purebred. 
“I was always too afraid the cycle would continue, that I’d turn out to be another piece of shit, just like my dad.” He says. 
“I don’t think you’re a piece of shit.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 
He huffs out a breath. “Thanks.” He stares down at the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Did your dad ever hit you?” 
You shake your head. “Never directly. He got rough sometimes, grabbing us, squeezing too hard, yanking us around. He never stopped my brothers when they got too rough, though. They liked to wrestle, and I wanted to join because I wanted to spend time with my cooler older brothers. Sometimes they’d forget I was smaller than them and I got hurt a couple times. He never reprimanded them when it happened. I think he enjoyed it more than anything. He mostly just yelled a lot.” 
“Trad alphas only speak the language of yelling and violence.” He says. “If my father wasn’t screaming at us, his fists were getting the message across. Sometimes he’d do both at the same time.” Ghost shakes his head. “Real pieces of shit, trad alphas. Makes me sick, the kinds of things they believe in.” 
“I’m sorry about what happened to you.” You say, fishing for anything to follow up his confession with. Nothing feels right, nothing feels like enough. 
He shrugs. “It happened. It’s in the past. He died a few years ago. Left nothing but a stain behind.” 
“What happened to your mom and brother?” You ask. 
“Tommy got into drugs for a while, but he cleaned up and got married. Mum lives with him now. Still doing well.” He says. 
You’re surprised by his words. You’ve always heard that omegas don’t last long without their alphas. But what if their alpha was an asshole? Is the relief of their death enough to scrub out the grief of losing your alpha? 
You stare at the side of Ghost’s head, your heart thudding in your chest. You feel sorry for him, but at the same time, you’re grateful he shared this with you. You have much more in common than you thought you did with the giant aloof alpha. Maybe, perhaps, this can be a way for the two of you to grow closer, maybe you finally have common ground that you can share with him to get him to open up to you more. You know he wants it. The revelation of his disappointment at your lack of greeting, and the fact he let you hug him is enough to tell you he wants something more with you. It might never breach the realm of romance or even a casual fling, but you can’t deny the bond is there. You can feel it, the tugging in your chest as you look at him, the butterflies in your stomach when he puts a hand on your back to steer you through the crowd in the mess. 
You want him to want you. You want him to open up, to peel the layers back and bare his very soul to you. He’s already started. This confession is the beginning of that kind of bond between you. That he trusts you enough to tell you this makes something flutter in your chest. 
If only he knew you were keeping something worse from him. 
You could tell him. Confess to him right here, right now. Spill it all in this sort of mock confessional, this mock therapy session between you. He’ll be mad, but perhaps after everything that’s transpired today, he’ll be lenient. You’re not sure you could say the same about John, though. 
“Ghost, I-” You start but he cuts you off. 
“Simon.” 
“What?” You breathe, blinking in shock as he turns to face you. 
“My name. It’s Simon.” 
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ririblogsss · 2 days
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Damian and the strays
ok look we all know the de aged dani (Danny and Dan). But what if we have siblings/ triplets, and I mean what if we take them all the same age (15/16) and make them into the most powerful trio in school . I mean you have 3 good looking individuals all siblings and in the same way, they all excel in different things (Dan-world history, Dani/Ellie- science Sports, Danny physics), but they are all so easy going and charming plus they are all jacked af.
Like tell me if i'm wrong but they would be beloved maybe popular on the downlow until they do something only fentons would risk doing. For example, orchestrating that every monday at 12:30 am the fire alarms would start and lunch would be extended for an hour more. No one can prove it, but none of them have doubts either. The triplets have their own groups but they mainly hang out with each other if you see one the other 2 are close by. 
Anyways i'm thinking that one day they will actually see why the Fenton siblings are observed closely by the teacher and try to make sure they don't cause mayhem.  One guy, a chad of sorts, decided he wanted to pick a fight with Dante, the more violent of the siblings. Chad didn't even finish his first insult before he was slammed through the door by Danny, who was arguably the pacifist of the 3. But the student body kind of got it. The thing is no one expected Dani (preferred name Ellie) to freaking pummel the guy.
No one saw them at school again. 
It went on like this: the trio would move to one school.Would play pranks on the administration and have fun. Then someone would try something on one of them and the other 2 would pummel the person into the ground. The next day they would be gone never to return. They became an urban legend in some of the schools. 
Until they came to Gotham Academy when they tried their pranks a kid would come and stop them. It was getting on their nerves. All their freaking plans down the drain all because of a snobby brat that didn't know how to mind his own.  Eventually they start pranking the kid instead of the school as a revenge for ruining their fun. This leads to an all out prank war between all 4 of them (Dan backstabbed Danny and Ellie first they just followed the lead). 
Soon enough the 3 of them became friends with Damian (they learned his name 4 weeks after the prank war started). The school body was half convinced that Damian and the triplets were actually long lost siblings. I mean they all have black hair, anger issues and green bluish eyes. Damian knew for a fact that he wasn't related to the Fentons; a DNA test concluded this. But that didn't mean that Damian didn't perceive the triplets as family. 
Damian concludes that even if they aren't adopted into the family the Fentons belong. So that's why one day Damian brings Ellie, Danny and Dante to the family reunion. Where every relative and not so relative is there. Damian is showing them around, pointing at things around the house as a mini tour, and people are starting to notice that there are 3 new faces that they have never seen before. 
there are whispers like: ‘really?! AGAIN?!?’ or “WOW im gone for 5 days and he got 3 more”  and even  ‘Damn so black hair, teen and probably sad backstory is the type’
The triplets looked at eachother looked at Damian and smiled like starved piranhas that have just been served a pound of meat and are ready to devore. Damian reflects it with his own devilish smile.
 So all four of them start saying things out of context such as: 
“I'm so glad to be here now” 
“Yeah same we wouldn't have survived that hell of a chamber without you Dames”
“As long as we're no longer hunted for merely existing I don't mind staying for a while”
“Good things there weren't any actual bazookas that could have gone worse”
All four knew that out of context it seemed like the 3 siblings had been hunted and captured by some unknown person and Damian had rescued them and brought them home, but in reality they were just talking about the past paintball match they had earlier that morning. 
So Bruce wanted to know some more but the rhetorical bullet, and asked “Damian… who, who are these kids” Damian proceeded to scoff and say “Why our new family members, truly father, are you incompetent. This is a family reunion hence only family or perceived family is invited” Damian tried to channel his inner 10 year old self whilst trying not to laugh. Danny and Ellie were on the same boat except they made their faces look devastated with tears in their eyes and everything looked pitiful, but on the inside they were laughing their asses off. Dante feigned indifference but he had teary eyes, from trying to stop himself from hitting the floor laughing at the devastated faces around. 
Danny played his act up clearing his throat “we- we can leave if I mean we didn't know, yeah Dami said it was fine but we understand” he purposely made his voice crack to show how ‘hurt’ he was. 
Ellie made herself look small so she could seem self conscious and uncomfortable with the situation. 
Dante solidified them with the small sniffles he let out every few seconds. 
Damian was looking to the ground to avoid being read, because right now he was shaking from laughter, and it would be clear in his face but if he angled himself right (which he did) it looked like he was silently sobbing. Danny put his arm around his shoulder, also looking towards the ground, also shaking from laughter. Dante and Ellie joined in. From an outside perspective it looked like they were extremely upset not being able to be family. 
Bruce panicked seeing his younger child and 3 other kids the same age all begin to cry he just blurted out “NO no that not what i meant Damian I ment their names what are their names, and does Babs have to get involved so we can have documentation”
Damian cleared his tears and looked up at his father trying not to smirk “He is Dante, that one is Dani with an I but she prefers Ellie and that lanky one is Danny” Bruce nodded and went out the room to see if he could get started on the documents. 
Once Bruce was out of the room all 4 of them burst out laughing, falling into a pile some were heard wheezing, others having maniacal laughter. 
Once they finally stopped and looked at the rest of the family all four of them eerily said “he won't ever believe you” And everyone in the room shuddered. This quartet was going to bring wayyyy too much mischief into the family. 
(if you're wondering where jazz is. She's in college living her best life. I mean she is a highly independent person she thrives of off living alone with a clear schedule set)
Also i didn't put any specific names for the previous schools or the family members bc I thought it would be better for u guys to decide who witnessed the beginning of the end. 
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Text
Tri Harder
Chapter 2 ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)
also on AO3 <3
Suguru Geto & Satoru Gojo
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After an innocent party game, Geto & Gojo make it their mission to fuck you. That's it.
Ch 1 | Ch 3
fem reder, alcohol, provocative dancing, making out, semi public sexual activities, vaginal fingering, NOOOO ONE IS STRAIGHT ONCE AGAIN
~7k
MDNI
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When Shoko didn’t answer her phone the following Monday, Gojo knew there was only one place she would be. He always picked Geto up from work, but he wouldn’t be driving straight home today.
“We’re going to see Shoko.” Gojo was peeling off the pavement the moment Geto closed the passenger door. “I was knocking on her door earlier and she didn’t answer. Hasn’t answered my texts or calls either.”
“Yes, my day was fine,” Geto yawned, throwing his laptop bag into the back seat. “Thank you so much for asking.”
Gojo looked over at Geto who was donning a black, button down shirt with khaki chinos. For the past two years, he worked as an English teacher for highschool freshmen and sophomores after he graduated. 
Gojo on the other hand was working for his family’s accounting company, although even he would use the word working rather loosely. More like, he graduated from college because he had the resources to do so, but he knew money would never really be an issue. He worked from home mainly because he needed something to occupy his time while his friends were busy.
“How was your day, angel? ” Gojo teased, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as they arrived at a red light.
“If you want a nickname, you can just ask,” Geto laughed lightly. “No need for you to keep throwing this temper tantrum about it. You being all jealous is cute though, I’ll admit that.”
“Not jealous,” Gojo grumbled. “But you know what’s actually crazier than you accusing me of being jealous and throwing a temper tantrum?” He looked over and raised a brow for dramatic effect.
“I don’t know.” Geto shrugged. “But I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“The fact that you were telling me to be nice when you were busy being two fingers deep in someone you knew for like, an hour. ”
Geto contemplated his word choice before he spoke. “Well, she said thank you afterwards. For all intents and purposes, I was being extremely nice,” he reasoned. “I was providing a service, if you will.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Gojo shook his head as he continued driving. He wasn’t always the most careful driver, but was always mindful when Geto was in the car. The threat of being scolded for his driving skills had him obeying every traffic sign and speed limit until they reached their destination.
Gojo drove successfully without any criticism, and parked in front of the building. He and Geto got out of the car, Geto holding open the building door for them.
They made their way towards the back of the library where Shoko usually holed herself up and cut herself off from the rest of the world. Her head bobbed to whatever was playing in her headphones as she scrawled something in her notebook, highlighting it quickly afterwards.The table was littered with cans of empty energy drinks and candy wrappers, a telltale sign she had a big test coming up soon.
Geto pushed some of the empty cans aside so he could get a clear view of her. He then sank into the seat across the table from her while Gojo pulled out the chair next to her, spinning it around and sitting in it backwards. Gojo folded his arms over the top of the chair, looking in Geto’s direction to start the conversation.
“Shoko,” Geto mused, a gentle smile gracing his face. “Glad to see you’re alive and well after the party. You were fast asleep when we left.”
She looked up, capping her highlighter with a wistful smile on her face. “It was a great birthday.” She took one of her headphones out of her ears as she said your name. “I’m glad she took care of me and Utahime the next morning. I swear, we always get more fucked up whenever she’s around. Her and that damn cooler full of drinks.”
Gojo quickly cleared this throat at the mention of your name. “Oh, yeah! About–”
“No,” Shoko cut him off. 
Gojo felt like a deflated balloon careening through the air. “What the fuck?” His voice came out more frantic than he planned. “I didn’t even say anything.”
Shoko’s eyes traveled from Gojo’s to Geto’s, pointing an accusing finger at both of them. “Okay, you both listen then,” she demanded. “I’ll have you know that she is Utahime’s friend before she’s my friend. They were like, childhood neighbors or something. She just happened to go to the same med school as me,” she explained.
Gojo and Geto exchanged a look that told them everything they needed to know, but Shoko continued. “Utahime always says it's unfortunate enough that I know you two, and doesn’t want any more cross contamination.” She shrugged lazily. “That’s why you’ve never met her. For what it’s worth though, Utahime was super fucked up at my party, I don’t even think she remembers you two were there.”
Geto raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” He remembered very clearly being acknowledged by Utahime… and threatened several times.
“Well she normally always complains afterwards whenever you two happen to be around.” She spoke of Utahime’s distaste for the pair as if it were the most casual thing on the planet. “But in the morning she only talked about how much fun she had.” A sly smile played on her lips. “Anyway, don't start blaming me that you never met her friend and couldn’t… do whatever it is you two do.”
“Ugh,” Gojo groaned, throwing his head back in disbelief. That was cockblocking to another level. Preventing them from even wanting to meet you was utterly ridiculous. “What’s her problem?”
“I think she’s still pretty upset about the whole graduation dress thing… among other stuff,” Shoko reminded him.
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Graduation Day, Three years ago 
Gojo stood happily with Geto and Shoko on the day of graduation. Utahime bounded over to get in on the picture they were taking. She unzipped her gown, causing Gojo to let out an obscene gasp. 
“You just got a degree and that’s what you decided to wear?” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she growled, immediately clenching her fist. “I chose this dress months ago, and I look great.” 
Gojo rubbed the back of his neck, a grimace painting his face. “You should have chosen your dress years ago if this is what you went with after deciding for months.” 
Her lips formed a scowl and Geto’s voice interjected before she could say anything. “Satoru, not everyone is able to afford the style they want,” he reasoned. “She’s probably just working with the best she had available, you should be nice.” 
Her scowl deepened as she looked from Gojo to Geto. “And what is that supposed to mean?” she seethed. 
“Oh.” Geto was taken aback. “Was that dress actually your first choice?” 
“You two are the worst.” She stood next to Shoko. “I hate them.” 
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Gojo rolled his eyes. “That was eons ago. You don’t see me getting my torches and pitchforks ready every time she calls me a blue eyed, unblinking freak.” That was among the less colorful choice of words she had in her arsenal whenever she referred to Gojo.
“I’m still unsure where her animosity for me came from,” Geto mumbled, recalling the same dress situation. He truly thought it was just a last minute option, but he pushed the memory aside. That was Utahime’s issue, he was fishing for information about you. “So, what do you all do when you guys hang out?” he pressed gently. “It seemed like she already knew all our other mutual friends.”
Shoko shrugged. “Drink, hangout. Nothing crazy.” She tapped her chin with her highlighter. “We’re going out to some club this weekend since Kento and Yu are finishing their programs this semester. She might be there,” she teased.
“What club?” Gojo asked immediately.
“I don’t knooooow, ” Shoko sighed. “I can’t really seem to remember… if only I had a pack of cigarettes to jog my memory a bit…” Geto looked at Gojo and raised a brow. Gojo grumbled something unintelligible and took a twenty out of his wallet, sliding it to Shoko. “Well I’ll have to make sure I have enough to get Utahime drinks at the club too. Not like she would accept anything from the likes of you two.”
Gojo took a fifty out of his wallet this time, grumbling, “Do you remember the name of the club now?”
She let out another sigh as she said your name. “Well, she’s still my friend too, you know? I can’t get Utahime something without getting her something, that’s just rude.”
Gojo fished out another fifty along with some miscellaneous singles that were in his wallet and slid it toward her. Geto bit back a laugh as Gojo rolled his eyes. “Do you remember now?”
Shoko picked up the money with a nod. “It’s actually all coming back to me now.” She smiled at Gojo sweetly, “Club Phoenix at ten. You’ll probably want to come a little after that though, so Utahime is already drunk.”
“Can’t believe I had to give my friend over a hundred bucks to tell where she’d be hanging out this weekend,” Gojo groaned, shaking his head. “Something tells me we need to reevaluate this friendship.”
“Your own stupidity cost you…” she paused to count the money before pocketing it, “one hundred and twenty seven dollars.” She moved to start packing up her things. “Why didn’t either of you geniuses just ask for her number?” she laughed. 
Gojo’s face immediately fell, and Geto shot him with an equally blank stare. Shoko let out another laugh as she shoved her things into her bag. “Give me a ride home, would you?”
“Yeah, just use me again,” he mumbled. Gojo hated the unintentional comedian he became with the way Shoko’s sides were splitting with laughter, but he stood anyway and reoriented his chair to its original position. 
Geto picked up the empty cans and wrappers on the table, discarding them in a nearby garbage can. “Still find it hard to believe youre studying to be a doctor when you smoke and drink like a sailor.”
“It’s called duality.” The three got into Gojo’s car and he dropped Shoko off. She waved goodbye, still laughing as she said, “See you on Saturday!”
When Geto and Gojo returned back to their apartment, Gojo immediately flopped onto the couch with a groan. “Why didn’t you get your angel’s number?” he taunted. “Hmm?” 
Geto let out an easy laugh as he stripped off his shoes and slid into the kitchen. “I guess I was a bit too preoccupied to think about that.” He grabbed the chicken he seasoned the day before from the fridge along with some vegetables. He chopped the vegetables diligently as he preheated a skillet. “Doesn’t matter now though, we’re seeing her this weekend.”
“Too preoccupied?” Gojo scoffed. He got up from the couch and joined Geto in the kitchen. Plopping down on one of their dining room chairs, his hand cupped the side of his face and his elbow rested on the table. “Well I guess if I were in that closet for hours, I would have forgotten too.”
Geto slid the chopped vegetables into the pan, delighted by the fragrance of the onions and garlic as they began to sizzle. “By that logic, shouldn’t you have thought to get her number because you had less time?”
Gojo scrunched his nose. “Just shut up and cook.” He shook his head, unable to shake the conversation from earlier. “I still can’t believe Utahime is being so… vindictive.” 
Geto started to move the vegetables around in the skillet, adding the chicken once the vegetables were browned. “If she's still upset about that ugly dress, so be it.” He wasn’t as bothered by her dislike of him, he didn’t care about egging her on either. Referencing you, he said, “If she wants to be around us, she will. She’s met us now, I don’t see Utahime being a real obstacle.”
“You sure?” Gojo asked, extending his legs. “Well, Shoko did tell us Utahime is easier to deal with when she's trashed.”
Geto waved off his last statement. “She’s a real nonfactor if you ask me. It's us, right?” he asked with a smirk.
Gojo smirked back and nodded in response.
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Gojo and Geto had both been to club Phoenix plenty of times. Their whole friend group used to sneak in when they were all underage, giggling when they were let in although it was no secret to the bouncers that their IDs were fake.
The club had a live DJ every night, the drinks were shitty and the food was questionable in every aspect, but it was always a good time. The dance floor was always packed and strobe lights illuminated the space without being too disorientating. There were some couches placed in the alcoves while the others lacked furniture and remained in the dark, untouched by any lights and hard to be seen from other areas in the club.
Even as years passed by, they still found themselves enjoying the space even though they had been to many more upscale clubs since then. Tonight was no different. 
Geto wore dark jeans with a short sleeved buttoned down shirt, opting to keep the first few buttons undone. Gojo similarly wore dark jeans with a cotton tee, and they both wore casual sneakers. They each took a shot for good measure, and Gojo put on his shades before they got into an Uber and headed over to the club a little after eleven.
Music pulsed in their ears the moment the pair got past the bouncer and walked into the club. Every bar seat was filled and even more people stood surrounding the area as they flagged down bartenders for drinks. The DJ was amping up the patrons on the dancefloor, shouting something into the mic neither of them could really make out. Whatever it was, everyone on the dancefloor cheered and continued dancing. 
Gojo’s eyes darted over to the couches, hitting Geto’s chest when he saw Shoko. She was sitting with Nanami and Utahime, but you were nowhere in sight. “Let’s go ask if she’s here,” Gojo insisted.
“Don’t bother,” Geto answered over the music, nudging his chin in the direction of the dancefloor. 
There you were. You wore a baby blue sequined top that was low cut in the front and in the shape of a butterfly, tastefully showing cleavage. Thin straps held up the top that tied around your neck and back, the expanse of your smooth skin glowing under the lights on the dancefloor. The top cut a little above your belly button, the ring now changed to match the color of your top. 
A white mini skirt hung dangerously low on your hips, and a white lacy garter with a heart buckle graced one of your thighs. The ensemble was probably illegal in a couple countries, and Geto and Gojo were grateful they were able to gaze at the outfit in the flesh.
The barely there edges of your skirt swayed as your hips moved to the beat of the music. Your movements were fluid and carefree, a smile gracing your face as you danced. Next to you Haibara danced wildly, exuding the same carefree aura as yours as he brought his drink to his lips. He then extended the straw in his glass towards you which you happily accepted. Your lips wrapped around the straw taking a sip, and Haibara drank from it again.
“You see what Utahime did? We could be sharing drinks with her,” Gojo grumbled with a shake of his head. “Let’s go over there.” He was already pushing his way through the crowd before Geto could dignify him with an answer.
Gojo had little difficulty navigating through the sea of drunken people to get to where you and Haibara were dancing. Geto followed closely behind with ease.
Gojo tapped you on the shoulder, and you turned with a large smile on your face. “Satoru?” you yelled over the music. Your eyes trailed over to Geto. “Ah, Suguru, too!” You reached up and wrapped the crook of your elbows around their shoulders for a quick embrace. “Nice to see you both again!”
Haibara turned, pumping his fist with an excited gleam in his eyes. “Woo! Didn’t know you two were coming out tonight too!” He brought the straw back to his lips, promptly finishing his drink. He shook the glass full of ice. “You two came at the perfect time! I’m going to get another drink and check on everyone, keep her company, will you?”
“Go, go,” Gojo encouraged. “We’ll make sure she’s safe, don’t you worry!”
“You two are awesome!” Haibara gave him a thumbs up and pushed through the crowd in the direction of the bar.
You turned your attention back to the pair, their bodies towering over a large majority of the crowd. “Did you guys want to say hi to everyone else?” Your body was still moving idly to the music. “Shoko actually bought us a shit ton of shots earlier,” you laughed. “She was telling us she found a hundred dollars on the ground earlier in the week.”
Gojo rolled his eyes beneath the shades. At least Shoko actually used some of the money for what she said she would. “I don’t mind catching up with them later,” Gojo answered. He wasn’t even here for them. “It’s just nice seeing you again, let’s dance!”
You threw your arms in the air excitedly as a song with a faster beat began to boom through the stereos. Gojo positioned himself behind you, first taking a moment to fully appreciate the way you moved. The way your hips swung was enough to put anyone in a trance, and the bit of your ass that peeked beneath your skirt was the icing on top of the cake.
Geto stood beside Gojo, equally transfixed by your movements. Your body in motion was truly a marvel to behold. There was no way he could stop himself from admiring the way your hips rolled. Eyes still on you, he nudged Gojo as discreetly as he could, and pointed his chin in the direction of one of the dark, empty alcoves. Gojo nodded at the silent message.
“How about I grab us some shots?” Geto suggested. “Seems like we have to catch up to you.”
The shots from earlier already had you feeling warm, but you always came out to have a good time. You turned to face Geto and nodded, a smile creeping across your face. “I could go for another shot.” Pausing, your lips formed a pout. “Oh, my wallet is over with the others, I can go get it really fast.” You squinted through the crowd to look for the best path to get back over to the table.
“That sounds good, Sugu,” Gojo agreed. He placed his hands gently on your hips, letting his fingers drum gently against the spot. “Oh, the drinks are on us. Don’t worry.” He averted his attention back to Geto. “How about you just wave us over when you get them? We’ll come to you.” 
He lowered his shades just enough so Geto could see where he was gazing. His eyes lingered at the portion of the bar closest to the empty alcove. 
Geto nodded in affirmation, and then scanned the sea of people surrounding the bar. “It might take a while, don’t have too much fun without me,” he chuckled as he started making his way through the crowd toward the bar.
“Just let me know how much the drinks are later, I’ll pay you back,” you insisted. It was hard to ignore the way his hands felt on your hips, flashbacks of being pressed against him in the closet quickly flooding into your mind. 
Gojo’s hands gripped your hips a little tighter, letting his thumbs press into the dimples of your back. He couldn’t resist letting his fingers squeeze at the flesh there, so soft and pliable under his touch. He moved in closer, letting his crotch press firmly against your ass. The little bit of fabric the skirt had to offer worked to his benefit with him being able to feel the mounds of your ass pressed against him. He didn’t bother suppressing his groan, letting the surrounding music drown out the sound.
He leaned his head so his lips were aligned with your ear. “The drinks are nothing,” he asserted. “Trust me, angel. ”
You shivered feeling his lips brush against your ear as he spoke, and felt desire quickly swirling in your belly hearing the nickname. Previously hearing the nickname in Geto’s sultry voice was one thing, but hearing the hunger in Gojo’s voice as he used it was just as arousing. Come to think of it, his voice was almost… teasing.
You turned your neck to face him, your lips curling into a smile as you saw the smirk forming on his lips. He removed one hand from your hips briefly to take off his shades and fold one of the legs into the front of his shirt. The hand quickly returned to your hip, his own hips starting to move in sync with the music.
“You’re far too kind,” you gushed, feeling the gyration of his hips against you. His body felt like a brick wall pressed against your back, firm, sturdy, secure. You faced forward and stretched your arms until your fingers were brushing the base of his neck. His pulse began to beat rapidly beneath your fingertips as you started moving your hips in sync with his.
Gojo wished he could help himself, but he already knew how your body felt beneath his touch, and yearned for that feeling again. One hand stayed on your hip and the other hand started to glide up the side of your body. His hand splayed as it appreciated your waist and passed over your rib cage before snaking beneath the material of your top. Racing at his touch, your heartbeat quickened, matching his own racing pulse that was still thumping beneath your fingertips.
Gojo was grateful you weren’t wearing a bra as his hand cupped the bottom of your breast, giving it a slow squeeze as he continued to grind his hips against yours. Your breath hitched and your hips stuttered at the touch. You could already feel the nipple of your other breast harden against your top, letting out a soft whine at its lack of stimulation.
He gave your breast another squeeze, this time moving his fingers to gently pinch your nipple. Your movements stuttered again as you tried to stifle a moan. “Aw, come on. Keep dancing with me, angel,” Gojo taunted, his voice breathy against your ear. 
“Satoru, ” you whimpered.
“Told you it would be better if I had more than seven minutes,” he chuckled.
He continued rolling your nipple between his fingers as his hips continued to roll against you. Using the hand that was still on your hips, he urged the movements of your hips against his. The sensation of your nipple being pinched and his hand taking control of your motions made you clench. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you submitted to his urges, once again moving your hips in sync with his. 
Grateful to have you gyrating against him again, the hand on your hip traveled south to grip your ass beneath your skirt. “Fuck.” He took a moment to give each cheek a squeeze, desperately pressing his stiffening length against you. After more greedy squeezes, his hand rested on your hip between your skin and the band of the skirt. His hand was a passenger to the circular movements of your hips. “Yeah, that’s it. Just like that, angel,” he groaned into your ear.
You were on the verge of panting as the hand on your hip slid up and made its way under your shirt, now gripping your other breast. You didn’t think your heart could start beating any faster. His hand squeezed your breasts a few times before he started kneading that nipple between his fingers. You couldn’t help the whimper you let out at the feeling of both of your nipples now being rolled between his long fingers.
You were a clenching mess, feeling his length pressing against you with each movement of your hips. Another desperate whimper left your lips as your fingers dug into the skin of his neck. Your eyes fluttered at the sense of euphoria, uncaring of anything else going on. Your back arched as your hips continued to move, thrusting more of your breast into his hands.
Your breasts were soft and warm in his hands, and Gojo expertly squeezed them while he continued to knead your nipples. Your eyes closed and your head lolled at his touch, a look of bliss crossing over your face under the strobe lights.
Gojo didn’t care who saw, but he glanced at the other club goers on the dance floor. They weren’t paying you two any mind, either too inebriated to care or engaging in their own form of dancing. Or some combination of the two, for that matter,  
He glanced towards the couches where he saw Shoko sitting when he and Geto came in, but only Nanami and Haibara were there. He shrugged and looked toward the bar. 
Geto was just receiving the order of shots on a tray when he glanced in Gojo’s direction. A playful smile danced across Gojo’s face when they made eye contact. He squeezed your breasts as he kept eye contact with Geto. 
Geto’s lips rose to a small smirk watching Gojo massage your breasts and roll against you. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare at your blissed out expression. His cock already seemed to jump to life just knowing how good you must have been feeling right now. He didn’t want to miss out on any more fun. He waved Gojo over, still watching as your head lolled with your eyes closed.
Gojo reluctantly removed his hands from beneath your shirt. “Sugu has the shots, come on.” He grabbed your hand as the two of you navigated to the end of the bar where Geto was. 
The smirk hadn’t left his face as he took in your flushed appearance. He took one shot from the tray and handed it to you. “Only if you want to,” he affirmed.
You took the shot from him, placing your other hand on your hip. “I’m not a baby, let's go.”
“That’s my girl!” Gojo chanted, grabbing a shot from the tray.
Geto grabbed a shot, and the three of you clinked the glasses together before quickly downing them.
Your lips pursed as it coursed down your throat, immediately setting your body temperature ablaze. You looked over to Geto and Gojo who were already downing another shot. Thinking about shots you took earlier and all the sips of everyone's drinks you had, you weren’t going to argue with them for not asking if you wanted another shot or not.
You put your glass on the tray as Geto glanced at you. He took a step forward and let his palm graze the side of your face while his other hand settled on your waist. His thumb brushed against your cheek. “You look amazing tonight, angel.”
His voice simply wanted to make you melt. “Thank you.” You tilted your head so your lips brushed against his when you spoke again. “You look great too.”
“Come here,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against yours. You both tasted like alcohol, but neither of you cared as your lips slowly moved against each other. You were putty in his hands as he kissed you, willing your body to mend to his touch.
With one final brush against Geto’s lips, Gojo was reaching for your hand. “Come on you two.” You let his large hand encase yours as he pulled you toward the empty alcove. Geto took a hold of your other hand, and you instantly felt your blood running even warmer.
Letting go of your hand, Gojo pressed his back against the wall. He circled his arms around your waist, pulling your backside flush against his front once more. Geto let go of your hand as well and stood in front of you, effectively sandwiching you between their bodies. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just your own desire, but being between the two of them had your heart beating rapidly yet again.
Geto stepped in closer, letting his hand rest under your chin. His mouth hovered over yours as yours as he spoke. “Were you having fun with Satoru, angel?”
“Oh, she was,” Gojo answered with a laugh, letting his hands travel beneath your shirt again. His hands grabbed your breasts, squeezing the mounds with more force this time. You let out a moan against Geto’s lips as Gojo’s fingers began to pinch at your nipples again. You clenched around nothing, pressing your thighs together desperately to ease the ache. “ God, Suguru. Do you hear her?”
“Mhm,” Geto answered, letting his lips graze against your parted lips before they started trailing down your face. He kissed the corner of your mouth, and trailed down lower to the skin of your neck. “You know, she sounds really pretty when she comes too.” His lips latched on to the base of your neck, sucking at the skin there. “Don’t you want to hear that?”
“Oh, for sure. Nice of you to finally learn how to share.” Gojo took his time letting his hands trail down your body once more, eager to become familiar with every dip and curve. His hand dipped down, easily lifting the soft fabric of your skirt and nudging your thighs open. “Let me take care of that for you.” You parted your thighs, and a finger was brushing over your clothed clit. Another moan left your mouth as another finger joined, rubbing your clit in slow circles over the fabric of your underwear. “Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this.”
Gojo eagerly bypassed the crotch of your underwear and pushed a finger inside of you, his erection still present from before throbbing against you as your wetness enveloped him. You whined, clenching around the digit as he wasted no time pumping it in and out of you. “I know you’re dying for more.You can take one more, be a good girl.” He let his middle finger join his index one, inching both digits deeper until they were seated fully inside of you. “Mhm, just like that.”
Geto continued ravishing the skin of your neck, taking his time to let his lips caress the spot before sucking it, wanting to mar the same spot from last time that had since faded. He shifted the hand that was on your chin to grip the back of your neck, his other hand shifting to massage one of your breasts. He moaned into the skin of your neck as he let his finger knead your stiffened nipple. 
Every part of your body was vibrating with arousal. “Fuck,” you whimpered out, continuously clenching around Gojo’s digits and desperately arching into Geto’s touch. It felt like you were being tugged in every direction; Gojo’s free hand on your hip keeping your backside pressed against him tightly and Geto’s hand securely on your neck, keeping you at an angle where you had no choice but to let him keep ravaging your skin.
Geto pulled the breast he was massaging out of your top completely, moving his mouth’s attention from your neck to your nipple. He let his tongue circle the peak, looking up to see your lips part and release another moan. “God, angel. You’re such a slut. ” He chuckled lightly before he closed his lips around the bud, sucking it into his mouth,
Gojo felt you clench instantly at Geto’s words, causing him to buck his hips against you. “Shit,” he murmured, curling his digits to reach your g-spot. “For a slut, this pussy is fucking tight.”
Geto pulled your other breast out of your shirt, moving his mouth across your chest to suck your other nipple into his mouth. His teeth nipped at the bud gently before his tongue flicked against it, alternating between hard and soft sucks. He moved the hand that was resting on the back of your neck to the front, gently squeezing at the sides. He sucked your nipple into his mouth harshly before coming off with a lewd pop. “That’s better for us, isn’t it?”
Gojo couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across his face even if he wanted to. “Of course it is.”
Geto returned to your other nipple, rolling his tongue around it before letting his lips trail back up to your neck. The hand on your neck applied more pressure and he let his other hand begin to stimulate your nipple again. You were a moaning mess, opened mouthed and legs trembling. Geto’s length was practically a brick against his thigh. He pressed his thigh against one of your legs, groaning at the friction it provided.
“Ah, please,” you whimpered. It all felt like too much, but your body still craved more. Gojo’s erection pressed against your ass and Geto’s against your leg, your nipples being played with, being filled with Gojo’s fingers, the choking, the euphoria of the alcohol, it was hard to say what more could even constitute as, but you wanted it. 
“Please what?” Geto ground his leg against you, erection shamelessly throbbing. “You want Satoru to make you come?”
You nodded pathetically, tears threatening to spring from the corners of your eyes. “Please.”
“You hear that? Our angel wants you to make her come.” Geto peered up at Gojo, a smirk dancing across his lips. Geto’s gaze was back on you. “I think you should be more polite, angel. Ask him again, he wants to hear you.”
“Satoru, please,” you pleaded desperately.
Gojo steadily pumped his fingers in and out, plunging his fingers deep and keeping them curled against your g spot as your breaths became more ragged. “Come on, let it out,” he encouraged, letting his thumb rub against your clit. “I want to know how this pussy feels,” he mumbled into your ear.
Your legs trembled as you gave into his demands, body slumping against his as you spasmed around his fingers. Your voice was nothing but a string of moans as his fingers stayed inside of you, moving slowly as your juices coated them.
“Fuck, she does sound pretty,” Gojo groaned, making eye contact with Geto. “I want to see for myself how she tastes.” He slowly removed his digits from you, keeping you propped firmly against him as he slid his fingers into his mouth. He moaned around them, keeping his eyes on Geto. “Delicious.”
“Yeah?” Geto pressed in closer, his hips now slotted between yours as the hand that gripped your breast moved down to caress the skin of your thigh. He maneuvered the hand on your throat behind you, now gripping Gojo’s chin. “Let me have a taste then.”
Gojo grabbed at the back of Geto’s neck to bring their lips together. Your body was tight between them as both of their erections throbbed against you, and you could feel wetness saturating your panties again. You whined, gripping at Geto’s muscles under his shirt and wiggling your hips in any way you could to get more friction. Despite the overstimulation, you couldn’t stop, desperate yet again for more.
Gojo has never been a gentle kisser. As soon as their lips joined, he shifted his hand to grip Geto’s hair. His fingers clutched his tresses tight as he began pushing his tongue past Geto’s lips. Gojo let out a moan of satisfaction once Geto’s lips parted, letting his tongue roam the inside of his mouth.
Geto could taste you on Gojo’s tongue, and could feel you writhing between the two of them. If there was even a pocket of space between the three of your bodies, he closed it, letting out a moan when Gojo bit down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, she does taste good,” he gritted out, giving your thigh another squeeze. “Think I’m going to need another taste.”
Gojo let his tongue trace the shape of Geto’s lips before he shoved his tongue back inside his mouth. Geto moaned into Gojo’s mouth before letting his own tongue sliver into Gojo’s mouth. The familiar gesture was charged with arousal, the kiss growing sloppier the longer the two kept their mouths pressed together. The lewd sound of their lips moving against each other made you clench again. You panted, grinding yourself against Geto’s thigh, aching for another release.
When Geto pulled back, a thick trail of spit connected their lips together. “Oh angel, are you feeling left out?” Geto teased, feeling your pelvis against his thigh. “Can’t have that, can we?”
Gojo smirked, sucking the trail into his mouth as he peered down to see you humping Geto’s thigh. “Oh, Sugu,” he cooed. “I think she wants to come again.” Gojo released his grip from Geto’s hair and put a hand back on your breast. “Make her come, I want to see.”
“If you insist,” Geto snickered, stepping back only slightly. Gojo kept a hold on your hip while Geto pushed the fabric of your panties aside to pump his middle and index finger inside of you. They slipped in with no resistance, already soaked from your previous orgasm and more recent arousal. “Mhm, that’s it. Just as tight as I remembered.”
“Ah,” you moaned, throwing your head back as you clenched around him. You knew it wouldn't take much to bring you to another orgasm. Gojo’s hips thrusted against your ass, making your hips rock on Geto’s fingers. You let out another moan, tears prickling from the corner of your eyes as he pinched your nipple again. “That feels so good,” you breathed.
“Mhm,” Geto hummed. He slowly nudged a third finger at your entrance, his cock throbbing when you slowly started to envelop them. He watched as they disappeared inside of you until all three were knuckle deep and curling against your g-spot. The way your pussy started to clamp down on him would give a claw machine a run for its money. “Fuck, you can do it,” he praised. “Come for us one more time.”
Gojo swiftly moved his hand from your breast to beneath your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at him. The lust swimming in his eyes was evident. “Keep your eyes on him,” Geto instructed. “If you look away, I’ll stop.”
You whined, willing your eyes to stay open and keep your body upright. It felt good, too good. How could greed really be a sin when having more proved itself to be better, much better. 
You squeezed your eyes tightly at a curl of Geto’s fingers, a guttural moan escaping your lips. Gojo tsked despite his cock throbbing at your moan, letting his hand squeeze the sides of your chin. “Don’t be rude. You heard him, didn’t you?” Your eyes jolted open at his touch. “Keep those eyes on me, angel.”
Geto didn’t stop, his slender fingers still moving in and out of your heat. His eyes bounced between your weeping pussy and the desperation to please plastered all over your face. “Do I need to stop?” he taunted, slowing his movements. “Don’t tell me she isn’t being a good girl for us.”
“She just needed a little reminder,” Gojo chuckled lightly. His grip didn’t leave your chin as he looked down at you, eyes struggling to stay open and body writhing with pleasure. “Fuck angel, you’re so fucking pretty like this. Open your mouth.”
You didn’t have the capacity to ask any questions as you parted your lips. Gojo titled his lips downward to spit into your open mouth. You clenched around Geto’s digits as you welcomed his saliva into your mouth. “Fuck,” Gojo gritted out, keeping a tight hold on your chin to smash his lips against yours. Your lips were barely aligned as they moved against each other with little grace, but neither of you cared. You moaned into his mouth, hips grinding frantically on Geto’s fingers.
Geto quickened the pace of his fingers, every stroke only aiming to brush against your g-spot. Your moans turned into pants against Gojo’s lips as your body was reaching its peak. 
You cried out as your pussy locked down on Geto’s fingers, pulsing around the digits erratically. Your chest heaved as his fingers exited you. Between the alcohol and the back to back orgasms, you could barely keep your eyes open. 
Through fluttering lids, you saw Geto bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean with a smile. Gojo parted his lips, and Geto placed his fingers on Gojo’s tongue. Gojo sucked them diligently, moaning around his fingers and savoring your taste again.
Gojo wrapped his arms around you tightly while Geto put your breasts back in your top. He put a hand under your chin, leaning his own head to be eye level with you. “How about you come home with us, angel?” A soft small graced his face. “We can have some more fun.”
You were already exhausted and overstimulated, but there wasn’t a hint of hesitation in your voice when you answered, “I’d love to.”
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Joo did some lovely art that i appreciated sm!!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) more skin tones on the linked post!!
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just ch 3 left to upload :p
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 2 days
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(Dark!) BNHA: Toxic Relationship
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female Reader
Boys -> Hawks + Bakugo + Dabi + Deku
Reaction: Moments from your toxic relationship with your Pro-Hero boyfriend.
WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Abuse; Manipulation; Non-con.
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
Let me know if you like this reaction format or what 🙂
Hawks
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“Y/n is a real clutz, y’know. Can’t even walk on even ground without tripping over her own feet.”
Your cheeks flame with humiliation as the camera pans to the crowd that laughs heartily at the demeaning words, as if Keigo had dropped the funniest joke they’ve ever heard. 
“That’s adorable.” the woman laughs, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she has no quirk? I believe you said she is quirkless, right?”
Keigo chuckles, nodding as he crosses an ankle over his knee.
“She sure is. Can’t even imagine what type of quirk she’d have, she’s just not the type.”
Your hand grips the remote tighter. What does he mean by that? Does he think you’re not good enough to have a quirk?
You consider turning off the TV, but fortunately the interviewer changes the subject. They casually speak about the current stance of heroes and their struggles on fighting off criminals and villains.
Keigo is charming as usual, delivering answers that are a perfect portrait of responsibility with a sprinkle of humor. He’s good like that, even though his previous answers left a bitter taste in your mouth.
Somehow, they end up reaching the topic of hobbies and free time. 
“Going Pro Hero leaves little time for myself, so sadly I don’t really have much time for hobbies. Wish I had.” he says humbly. “My girlfriend has lots of them, though.”
You inhale sharply. Not again. 
For your misfortune, the woman gets interested.
Perhaps because it’s an exclusive interview and her network channel gave her orders to squeeze every drop of information they can get on Hawks’ personal life. 
“What type of hobbies? She looks like she’s a great cook.” she tries to guess, but Keigo bursts laughing, holding his belly in an exaggerated mannerism. 
“Nah, cooking isn’t really her department. Burned eggs and half-cooked pancakes are more her style. She doesn’t even-”
You change channels in a heartbeat, bursting in tears at the low insults.
You’re not that bad. Sure, you’re not amazing at cooking, but never once did Keigo complain when he eats the food you diligently make after he returns from patrols. 
And now he slanders you on national television? 
And the worst part? It’s not even the first time he’s done this. 
Dabi
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“There’s nothing to eat in the fridge.” 
“There is.” 
“There isn’t.” 
You stop writing your notes, swallowing back an annoyed sigh, already aware of what was happening.
“There is food in the fridge.” you repeat, “You just have to cook it.”
Dabi looks at you, unimpressed. 
“No shit Sherlock. Maybe you can do it for me.” 
“You serious?” 
Meeting his arrogant smirk, you huff. 
“Dead serious, babe. Not like you’re busy anyways.”
Your mouth drops at his audacity and you open your arms to indicate the mess of books, papers and pens in front of you. 
“I’m studying, Dabi. Can’t you see that? Grow up and cook for yourself, yeah?” you snap your attention back to your books, but your mood has already turned sour. 
You pretend to scribble down a few words when Dabi walks to you slowly. He peeks into your annotations, snorting. 
“That handwriting is kinda shitty.” he mocks you. “Besides, what exactly are you even studying for? You’re not exactly cut out to be a doctor, y’know? Not enough brain cells in you to become that.” 
You glare at him, angrily swatting away the hand that condescendingly tries to pet your hair. 
“You’re such an asshole, Dabi. Maybe if your life revolved around something other than your stupid daddy’s issues, you would actually get a job. Not like Endeavour is worried sick about you, not when he’s got Shoto.” you spit the words venously.
Not the nicest words, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to bother. 
A dark shade crosses Dabi’s face, his amused expression turning colder. You’d be lying if the sight didn’t ignite some fear in you.
“Is that so?” his crooked smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And why would I need a job - or Endeavour, by that matter - when I have you?”
His hand reaches for your shoulder and there’s an edge in his eyes that immobilizes you. You shouldn’t have mentioned Endeavour. 
“I’m not with you because of that bitchy attitude, you know. I like my girl to know who’s in charge. Respect is really important in a relationship and your behavior is making me really upset, baby.” his tone is scaringly soft, and his hand travels to your neck.
You hold your breath when the staples on his hand scratch against the delicate skin of your throat. “So, if you need me to remind you of your place, I’ll gladly help you with that.”
His fingers heat up at a low temperature, not enough to actually burn you but it doesn’t stop the lonely tear that slides from your eye, the only sign of the chilling terror you’re feeling.
He leans forward, kissing your forehead before sliding his hand away. 
“Are we understood?” 
The nod you give him is shaky at best, but Dabi smiles nonetheless. 
“Now, how about that food you’re gonna make me?”
Bakugo
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“I have to wake up early tomorrow.”
Besides a low hum, Bakugo doesn’t acknowledge you much, too busy French kissing your neck.
His hands head for your ass, provoking a wince in you when he gropes it with unnecessary strength, your left ass cheek being kneaded like it’s dough.
Katsuki uses his grip on your ass to push your hips forward even as you complain again. The thin fabric of his sweatpants does nothing to hide the hardness that shamelessly rubs against your thigh. 
“Katsuki.” 
Once again he gives no sign of hearing you, rolling his hips with more urgency and you barely catch the tired groan that almost rolls away from you.
The clock on your side reminds you that despite the early hour, you’ll only have 6 hours to sleep. 
You really have to sleep and if you’re being honest, tonight you’re not feeling sexy or horny enough to sleep with your boyfriend. 
But that doesn’t make you feel any less awkward when Bakugo’s movements turn more vigorous and needy, humping your naked thigh as if he’s fucking it while you remain as alive as a statue. 
“Fuck, this isn’t enough.” he growls against your skin, and your heart skips a beat when his hands reach for your shorts, tugging them down halfway until you panickedly grab his wrist, wiggling your body away from his.
“Seriously, Kats, I’m not in the mood tonight.” you say, quickly pulling back your shorts. 
“You fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls through gritted teeth, still hovering above you. 
Crossing your arms over your chest, you timidly nod. 
“Maybe we can do this tomorrow? It’s just that-”
“Yeah, whatever. Not like you haven’t used that stupid excuse on me before.”  
Your eyebrows raise with surprise at the bitter tone on his voice as he gruffs, pushing himself off you. 
“I’m not making up excuses.”
“The hell you aren’t.” he looks at you, angry. “Every time I try to start something, you turn into a damn nun. Always too freakin’ tired,  too busy or not in the mood.”
He scowls, spiky blonde hair falling to his eyes. 
“All you have to do is open your goddamn legs and let me do the rest, and you can’t even do that.”
His words hit a sore spot and he turns his back on you, settling on the distant side of the bed after delivering strained punches to the pillow to soften it up.
“Maybe I go after those Dynamite's groupies that are always throwing themselves at me. Since you never want to fuck anymore.”
You’re left too stunned to speak, sadness blossoming at the cruel meaning of his words and it’s a struggle to swallow the tears. 
He wouldn’t really, would he? But your mind lingers on the disturbing thought. He’s popular with girls, even with his angry mood.
Bakugo is tall, muscular and not even the ever present scowl in his face is able to contradict the attractive facial features he’s been blessed with. Meanwhile you’re just mediocre, if even that...
Your insecurities strike back, taunting you. 
Your hand reaches for his arm before you even realize it, and you’re mildly surprised when he doesn’t shake you off. 
“The hell you want now?”
Pulling on his arm until he finally turns to the side, you kiss him. 
He groans against your lips, allowing your hand to rest on the warm plane of his chest and you let it slide lower until it touches his clothed member. 
Neither of you speak a word, but you feel Bakugo smirking against your lips while he practically shoves your shorts down. 
You allow yourself go limp underneath him, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the way he wants to. Holding back a tired sigh when the fluorescent numbers on the clock mock you. 
You really have to wake up early.
Deku
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“Are you serious, Izuku?” 
The tall hero jumps, eyes widening almost comically when he realizes you’re standing on the bedroom’s doorway and not cleaning the kitchen, like he clearly assumed you to be. 
“I wasn’t- The phone-” he stammers with his words, plowing your phone onto the bed with a bit too much force.
Crossing your arms, you flash him a frustrated glare.
“You promised me you wouldn’t spy on my phone anymore, Izuku.” your stern tone has him frowning and Izuku practically sprints closer to you.
“I wasn’t spying! I was just- just checking the time.” his words aren’t convincing enough for you to actually believe in him. 
You squint your eyes at him, dodging his grabby hands with a nasty slap, despite the hurt expression on his face.
“Izuku.” 
“I wasn’t! C’mon, you gotta believe in me.” 
You don’t. 
“Even if I did go through your phone - which I didn’t - why would that be such a problem?” he complains, dragging his voice. “Do you have something to hide or what?”
You point a warning finger at him.
“Don’t you dare. This isn’t about me. You’re the one who went behind my back because you’re just too insecure to fully trust me.”
He shakes his head, emerald eyes turning feverish. 
“You’re being dramatic, of course I trust you.”
“You don’t, stop lying.”
“I do trust you!” his voice rises in volume.
“No, you don’t!” you scream, voice breaking before you crumble in tears. 
You’re exhausted. Of arguing, of dealing with Izuku, of everything. When did things turn so frustrating, so tiring? Why does he always have to ruin things for you?
Izuku curses under his breath before rushing to you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace as you cry on his chest. 
“You don’t. You never will and I know that.” he stays silent, not contradicting you this time. 
He lets you cry on his chest, his hand gently caressing your hair as he mutters apologies. 
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Izuku hugs you harder, arms tightening around you. “I’ll do better, okay? I promise, I will.” 
And like a fool, you accept his promise - even if you know it’s meant to be broken.
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flemingsfreckles · 3 days
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Personal Shopper
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Synopsis: based off this request of reader helping Jessie shop for new clothes
Warnings: nothing, it’s fluffy
WC: 1.2k
A/N: here’s some fluff to ease your mind with all the angst I’ve put out recently :)
“I feel like I look silly.” Jessie voice came over the top of the dressing room.
“Just show me.” You were sat outside on a bench, waiting patiently for your girlfriend to try on and show you the mountain of clothes you had picked out for her.
“No.”
“Jessie come on!” You encouraged her. “Just let me see.”
It was no secret to anyone that Jessie could use some wardrobe help, you had heard her teammates tease her for years, she even mentioned it herself on numerous occasions. She was quick to pick up a sweatshirt and throw on the same black Nike shirt and black hat that she always wore. When it came to fancier clothing, she was even worse, owning a couple of plain button ups and a few pairs of solid color slacks.
After she had complained one too many times about her wardrobe and not knowing what to wear, for your own liking. So you had taken her to various stores, spent hours looking through racks and piles of clothing, trying to find something for the Canadian.
She cracked open the door. Peaking out at you, “Don’t laugh please.”
You shake your head at her, “I won’t, I’m never going to laugh at you for trying something on.”
She opens the door fully for you to see her outfit. She had thrown on a plain black shirt, more tightly fitting than her regular choice of shirt. The shirt showed off more of her figure than her standard Nike black shirt. She had also put on a nice pair of pants. Black and white in a small checkered print.
“Oh wow.” You can’t help but let the words fall out of your mouth when your eyes scan Jessie head to toe. It wasn’t often that you got to see her dressed up.
“Stop.” She gives you a firm look.
“No babe, it looks so good.” You admire her for another second before looking to her face. She looked uncomfortable. “You don’t like it?”
“I don’t know, it’s just,” she turns back to the mirror to look at herself. “It’s different.”
“Okay.” You come up to rub her shoulders. “If you’re uncomfortable in it, don’t buy it because then you’ll never wear it. But it looks nice, so if you’re just uncomfortable because it’s new, then that’s okay.”
“I like the shirt.”
“Jess it’s a plain black shirt of course you like it.”
“Yeah but the fit is different, it’s tighter.” It was, her biceps were being restrained by the fabric, it was tight across her chest and shoulders, it looked good, a little too good given you were in public.
“Alright, try it on with another pair of bottoms then.” You push her in the direction of the changing room. She out a huff but closes the door and changes again.
Jessie hadn’t been super thrilled when you dragged her from store to store, she knew she wanted new clothes, a new style but it was the actual act of shopping and trying on that she hated so much. You on the other hand were thrilled Jessie had finally asked for your help.
You didn’t mind her clothes, they were never an issue to you, but they were an issue to Jessie which then made them your issue when she would come to you asking to borrow your clothes because she didn’t want to wear anything she had. You liked seeing her in your clothes, but you decided it was time she was happy with her own wardrobe.
The issue was not just having clothes but it was the fact that Jessie didn’t know how she wanted to dress. To be fair to her, the majority of her life is spent in athletic clothing, a game kit, training kit, or in some form of a team branded shirt, sweatshirt, or sweatpants. When she’d get home from training or a game she’d usually slip into another pair of athletic shorts or sweats, only throwing on jeans and a simple shirt if you were going out.
“I think I like these better.” Jessie opens the door, she’s got on the same black shirt, now paired with a pair of maroon dress slacks.
“Those look nice on you.” You let her look at herself in the mirror again, she turns looking at the back of the pants. “They make your ass look good, don’t worry.” You give her a smile in the mirror as she rolls her eyes.
She looks at them for a couple more seconds, contemplating the pants. “I think I’ll get these.” She finally decides. “And the shirt.”
“Okay take them off, put your jeans back on and try this on.” You had her a couple of linen button up shirts.
“Ughhh.” She groaned as she turned back into the dressing room, the linen shirts in her hand.
Jessie comes out in the sage green shirt, her jeans from home back on. She’s got a smile on her face.
“You like it?” You ask, hopeful based on her smile.
“Yeah, it actually feels comfortable, it doesn’t feel like I’m wearing a costume or someone else’s clothes.” Jessie looks at you for your opinion.
“That color looks good on you.”
“Yeah it’s different but I like it.” You could see the genuine smile on her face, it made you happy, seeing her satisfied with something she was trying on. She spins in the mirror one more time before closing the door behind her.
She comes out a moment later with the maroon pants, black shirt and linen shirt in one hand. The black and white checkered pants in the other. Jessie places the black and white pants back on the rack and then makes her way over to the display of linen shirts. You watch as she picks up one in white, blue, black, and a coral color adding them to the pile of clothes she was holding.
Jessie must’ve noticed the strange look you gave her as she turned around with the shirts in her arms. “What?”
“Nothing.” You say with a small shake to your head.
“I like the shirt, it’s comfortable. I’m ready to check out.” She knew you were questioning the fact that she just grabbed four identical shirts to the one already in her hand.
“I know.” You hold your arms out to her to offer to hold the shirts. “Whatever you want babe.” Sure it wasn’t what you had in mind when you had taken her shopping but at least she was walking out with something new that she liked, you couldn’t complain too much.
You watched as Jessie checked out, refusing to let you pay for any of the clothing for her. She did however make you carry the bags with all the clothes, which you did happily.
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akutasoda · 3 days
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Hewo:3
first time requesting please understand me TT
Can I request a s/o who first time using gun/ability and their ability was type to kill so s/o who stuck and frozen because they killed someone and breaks down to tears on the ground I wanna know how would they react
Feel free to ignore X3
unwilling murders
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synopsis - your ability activates at the worst time
includes - dazai, akutagawa, fyodor, ayatsuji
warnings - gn!reader, small blood mention, shooting, slight angst w/ comfort, wc - 818
taglist - @vi-chan07, @little-miss-chaoss
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osamu dazai ★↷
↪dazai had a murky past that not many knew of. if they did, they knew of his extensive list of crimes ranging from simple shoplifting to murder. ending another person's life wasn't a foreign concept to him but he had made a change, he promised.
↪he knew it was an act of self defence on your end. you both were aware that you did have an ability but the only issue was the fact that neither of you knew how it actually activated. unfortunately it had activated when you were trying to protect yourself.
↪you hadn't meant to shoot, merely hold the gun up as an act of protection but unfortunately the person had gotten to close and you panicked. the very second dazai heard a gunshot he rushed to where you were, only sewing you shaking as a body lay infront of you in a puddle of scarlet.
↪as soon as you saw dazai, you broke down. fortunately dazai was there to rush and catch you before you hit the ground. he held you close and let you cry it all out. he wasn't exactly the best emotionally but he could only try.
↪taking someone's life was definitely guilt worthy especially if it was an accident. he wouldn't tell anyone and he'd get you to not tell anyone because that would cause more trouble and he knew all you needed was time to yourself to process and he'd be their to help his best.
ryunosuke akutagawa ★↷
↪the port mafia was ruthless, it was a fight to survive and work your way up the ranks. to prove your worth and stick around you had to be useful, unfortunately in the mafia that often meant committing crimes. more specifically murdering traitors and anyone who opposed to the mafia. akutagawa was no exception.
↪he would admit that he'd thought he'd be much more unfeeling to seeing someone get shot but maybe it was because his lover who had killed on accident that made him care. especially when you were practically frozen in shock.
↪he managed to catch you with rashomon before you collapsed due to your shock. he couldn't remember the first time he killed but his circumstances were definitely different and so he couldn't understand how you were feeling. but he wasn't an idiot. he could tell you were suffering.
↪again, he wasn't the most emotional or sympathetic person but he knew you needed comfort. as soon as you felt his arms awkwardly wrap around you, you started crying. he tried his hardest to comfort you but he wasn't the greatest.
↪he probably would have to enlist help from gin to ensure that you recovered from the shock but you knew he was trying his hardest. it was just that difficult for him.
fyodor dostoevsky ★↷
↪nobody except himself really knew what he had lived through and experienced. although one thing was for certain and that was the fact that he had committed a wide variety of crimes with little remorse. it didn't trouble him to dispose of someone to achieve his goals.
↪but he had grown so unfeeling and used to the feeling of killing that it didn't matter, but then there was you. someone who had never killed before and hadn't meant to even claim your first kill. fyodor had almost forgot how taxing killing someone could be, he only remembered after seeing you in such a state.
↪for a third time, he wasn't the great with emotions and barely had a shred of sympathy, but something didn't sit right with him about seeing you crumble. he was almost in just as much shock as you about how to react.
↪he slowly moved closer to you as you fellto the ground, crying and shaking. he pulled you into a gentle embrace as he tried gently shushing you as a form of comfort but he was truly lost about how to comfort you.
yukito ayatsuji ★↷
↪despite being a detective, he had killed thousands if not millions. there's a reason that he was kept under watch at all times, another reason for the fact he was classified as a very dangerous ability user. in his defence, his ability did sometimes activate on his own - it did have a very peculiar activation requirement.
↪for a final time, he isn't the most sympathetic nor is he the most emotional. he doesn't care for much and it takes a lot to get a genuine reaction from him but seeing his lover crying and shaking over a dead body would definitely worry him.
↪he immediately pulled you into his arms and held you as you cried into his shoulder. he waited until you calmed down before he brought you away from the scene, he briefly would revist to destroy the scene. he'd stay very close to you until you recovered, no matter how long that would take.
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stariikis · 3 days
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wordle wars | sim jaeyun
desc ; beating jake in any new york times game is nearly unimaginable. nearly. you've done it before, but it's a rare occurrence. so what happens when you surprisingly beat him in all the games there are to offer on that website?
pairing ; smart!simjaeyun x gf!reader genre ; fluff, established rs, hs setting wc ; 920 notes ; yes this is based on today's games lol. what was that mini crossword though...
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“this is boring,” you mutter, probably a little too loudly because your physics teacher glances your way and frowns. lowering your voice, you whisper to your seatmate, busy copying down what’s on the whiteboard. “let’s play wordle.” 
jake gives you a half skeptical, half exasperated look. “we’re supposed to be doing practice 3.2, you know that?” 
unbothered, you stick your tongue out at him and taunt him, “you don’t play now, you automatically lose for today! ‘cause i’m going to get it right now.” 
it’s become a daily habit for you and your boyfriend to exchange a knowing look in the middle of class, and hurriedly type in the familiar link to see who’ll get the five letter word first. fortunately for you, your boyfriend just happens to be your seatmate, and it seems you have escaped the wrath of your teachers knowing about your relationship. because otherwise they would have put you in one corner and him in the other. 
it’s amazing how they haven’t separated the two of you, though, for the amount of noise generated from your side of the classroom. but you’re sure every outburst of uncontrollable laughter makes them regret their decision more and more everyday. 
usually, jake’s the one who figures out the word first, or with fewer guesses. you make a fuss, complaining about how he’s ‘totally cheating his way through’. ‘how?’ he asks, smiling in a bemused manner, and you’ll just accuse him of looking up the word or peeking at your screen. other times, when you win, you (obviously) make a fuss, and seize the chance to gloat about your achievement. 
he may be better at english, but you never lose when it comes to teasing him. 
so, threatened by your previous taunt, jake fiercely types in the link, sliding his laptop so you can’t see his screen. 
“it’s okay,” you jeer, turning up your nose his way. “i don’t need to see your screen to win. unlike someone.” 
“how many times do i have to tell you i don’t cheat??? i’m just smart. you have a skill issue.” 
oh, you’re so going to beat him today. 
you type in the five letters of your favourite starter word, 
heart
the ‘e’ is probably at the end. ugh, these words are stupid, it could be forever until i get it right. 
you sneak a glance at jake’s screen just to provoke him, and you’re met with a competitive glare. 
“no peeking. see? you always do this,” he whines, shoving your shoulder. 
rolling your eyes, you lean back and type,
blume
damn, the ‘e’ isn’t at the end. that’s funny. then it’s at the start. here… what word starts with ‘eb?’ 
ebony
when the letter tiles flip over to reveal a fully green word, you gasp a little too loudly and shake jake’s arm. which earns you a stare from your teacher again, but he says nothing. does he even care about what you do in class? probably not. 
“i got it, in three! it’s hard today,” you giggle, mentally crossing your fingers he doesn’t humble you by getting the word in two. (you’ll actually hide and repent.)
jake immediately turns your way and grins. you can’t tell if he’s acting, or if he’s actually beaten you. “i got it in one.” 
“no way, you liar!” you slide the laptop so you can see his screen. unsurprisingly, he hasn’t gotten it. in fact, he’s already submitted three guesses without figuring out the word. hence, you are victorious. you smugly reach over and flick his arm. 
“yeah yeah, i didn’t. but i’ll beat you in the other games.” 
when he finally gets the word, you move on to connections, and you beat him for this one too, though it takes you both some time. because in what world is ‘fathom’ a unit of length? why is ‘yard’ under that same category and not under ‘____ sale?’ jake mutters something under his breath about how american the system is when you show him the answers. 
strands is easy to you, but for some reason it takes jake some time to realise the theme. (‘you don’t know anything art related, do you?’ ‘obviously not. that’s why i’m in this physics class with you, stupid.’) 
soon enough, class is over, but you haven’t finished playing all the games. on the way home, you challenge each other to set a new high score on spelling bee, see who solves the hardest sudoku first, and battle to get the lowest timing for the mini crossword. 
you beat him for every single one. 
by the time you have to part ways and say goodbye, jake���s rolled his eyes enough times for them to stay stuck there at the top of his head. your teasing just never ends, even until the final moment. 
jake opens his arms for his routinely goodbye hug, and when you give it to him, you can’t help but to whisper, “i think i’m starting to get better at these dumb games. better than you.” 
instead of getting annoyed like you hoped he would, he merely replies with a short kiss on your cheek, “maybe you’re just a genius today, baby. must have donated some of my brain cells overnight. i’ll beat you tomorrow.” 
though the flirtatious quip he deadpans does throw you off a little, you can’t let it affect you. through a slightly blurred vision and warm cheeks, you laugh it off and wave as you walk your separate way home. “you can try.”
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more of my works >
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rayshippouuchiha · 2 days
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Hi! I feel bad for having messaged twice in kinda quick succession, but I have a Bleach AU idea and don’t really have anyone to tell about it, but i hope you’d like to hear about it!
So I’ve only recently been trying to finish reading Bleach (I’ve read earlier chapters multiple times, but never managed to read past the Xcution arc). I’ve still got about 100 odd chapters to go, but I’m in the thousand year war arc finally, (and I’ve read the last few chapters, so I know how it ends, just not all of the details in between).
Anyway, I’ve recently read the bit where Kyoraku (is that his name? Shunsui, the head captain guy) actually goes to the land of the living and visits Ichigo’s friends to warn them that depending on how powerful he is once he’s sorted his issues with his Zanpakuto, he might not be able to come back home and it’s just GOT ME THINKING, because so far it’s not been mentioned again, and it isn’t in the last few chapters either, I don’t think. BUT!! What if it is that Ichigo is so powerful now that going back to the human world on a permanent basis would completely mess with the human world, so he’s forced to stay in the soul society.
So much potential for angst, with him missing his sisters and friends (and Kisuke), BUT also so much potential for absolute highjinks in the SS.
I think this could potentially be a little similar to your Turn Back the Clock AU, but I’m just imagining all of the remaining captains/lieutenants all absolutely beside themselves trying to convince Ichigo to join their teams, Shunsui is already eyeing him up for a captain position in the near future, Kenpachi (who’s still a little lost without his little sidekick (whose name I’ve forgotten, god I feel so bad because I love her)) just itching to get Ichigo to join his squad so that he can have daily fights without the trouble of having to go looking for the guy. Shinji (who without a shadow of a doubt has a soft spot for Ichigo, no matter how much he might enjoy irritating him) who wants to have him in his squad as some kind of “visords-stick-together” kinda deal (and because he knows it’d piss all the others off). Rukia laying claim because HELLO, she’s the one that stabbed him and gave him the powers in the first place, she calls dibs! Hell, I think even Byakuya would want him in his squad, because as much as he might deny it if asked, he’s actually rather fond of the guy, so long as he learns to call him Captain rather than his first name.
And as things are want to do in the SS, where the more power the shinigami, the more insane they seem to be, things get a little out of hand. During one heated discussion, where they’re all giving their updates on how well each of them think they’re doing in convincing Ichigo to join them, someone (I’m thinking a shit-stirrer like Yumichika maybe) gives the idea that hey, this competition seems almost as if you’re trying to court the guy! And so it turns into this weird ass Shinigami-courting situation, with a “whoever manages to (woo) CONVINCE Ichigo to join their squad is OBVIOUSLY the one that Ichigo likes best, so that means that he’s OBVIOUSLY also open to (after)life long commitment in the form of marriage to whichever captain wins” kinda thing going on.
Cue Ichigo not getting a single moments peace, when all he really wants is to be left alone to just PROCESS the fact that he 1) has had to leave everyone and everything he’s ever known in the human world to live with these absolutely crazy people, and 2) just fought in a very big battle and helped kill a thousands-year old crazy Quincy guy.
He’s more than happy spending his time helping clean up and rebuild the SS for now, and he’s happy to worry about what comes next once the SS is back on its feet. (And he’s more than a little oblivious to the weird fighting/flirting/coercing that seems to happen whenever he comes across any familiar face whenever he’s out and about).
It all comes to a head when his friends from home come for a visit to the soul society with those handy dandy tokens that Shunsui gave them, and instantly see what’s happening and have to sit Ichigo down and explain to him that he may or may not (but definitely does) have twenty or so extremely powerful shinigami captains and lieutenants all after his ass(ets), which, know that Ichigo thinks about it, definitely explains a few things that’ve been happening to him lately.
And shortly after his friends go back home, all three realms feel a shift in reiatsu and hear a distant screech from Kisuke, who’s suddenly realised that hey, maybe the human world sucks actually and he should relocate back to the soul society for no reason in particular! None at all! Definitely not jealousy because that would be ridiculous.
If I had the time or energy (and a better track record of finishing fics that I start 😬) I’d love to write this, but I fear it’ll be stuck in my notes forever, lol, so thought I’d share!
No I love this so much!! Especially if it's endgame UraIchi and like all this courting, all this drama, all the shenanigans from all these different high-powered shinigami all trying to get Ichigo's attention and Kisuke just rocks up and gets him within a solid 10 minutes and 5 of those were spent with Ichigo purposefully ignoring him while Kisuke apologized for some dumb petty shit he did before Ichigo ended up in SS
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dixons-sunshine · 8 hours
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Love your work it’s amazing and helps me with so much shit in my life🎀 been feeling so down insecure lately .could you write something about female reader being really insecure about her appearance and her mind and intelligence ,looking at herself in mirror and Daryl catching her do it. just pure fluff him feeling bad because he wants her to see herself the way he does
That's What Makes You Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: While getting ready for the party at Deanna Monroe's house with the other women, old insecurities crept up again after being dormant for a while. However, Daryl won't have his beautiful girl thinking bad things about herself.
Genre: Kinda angsty to fluff.
Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.
Warnings: Swearing, insecurities.
Word count: 1.6k
A/n: This was heavily self-indulgent. I struggle with body image issues, so this was easy and yet extremely hard to picture and write. But darling, even though I don't know you personally, please know that I think you're amazing and beautiful! I hope this fic portrays how much I love you, even if I don't know you personally. Daryl in this is me reassuring you that you are enough, and that you are worthy. 💜
(Also, Michonne is your hype woman in this because she is my queen and I need her to hype me up when I feel down.)
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
Laughter filled the small room that you had found yourself in with Michonne, Rosita, Sasha, Tara, Maggie and Carol. All the women were having a mini fashion show as they tried on different dresses and shoes, having the time of their lives as they did something that everyone missed from the world before the dead started walking. However, the same couldn't be said for you.
You smiled weakly at Rosita as she showed off the dress she was wearing, eyeing the way the dress fit her curves perfectly. In fact, all the women looked amazingly beautiful in their dresses. Even Carol, who wasn't wearing a dress and instead opted for a flower shirt and a pair of jeans, looked gorgeous. You couldn't deny that they all looked like princesses, and that made you feel bad about yourself—your old insecurities crept up into your mind again.
The dress that Michonne had picked out for you was splayed across your lap. You had no intention of putting it on anytime soon, preferring to want to do so without any of these stunning women in the room. You wanted to be sure of how you looked before allowing anyone to see you in the dress, and when you more than likely looked terrible in it, you wanted to be able to handle your emotions without everyone present. You didn't need to see their disgusted faces when you wore it.
“Hey, you gonna get dressed and join us downstairs or just sit there and look pretty?” Michonne asked playfully, snapping you from your thoughts.
You winced at her words, but plastered on a small smile. “You guys go on ahead. There's something I need to do before getting changed,” you lied.
Michonne frowned slightly, seeing right through your lie but choosing not to address it in front of everyone. She'd pull you aside later and ask what was wrong. For now, however, she understood that you wanted everyone to leave, and she nodded at you.
“Okay, we'll see you when you come downstairs,” she replied, ushering the other women out of the room. She turned back to you before she left, giving you a questioning look. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” you told her, not missing the way she sent you a disapproving look. You sighed and looked down, toying with the dress in your lap. “I'm fine. I'll meet you downstairs, okay?”
Michonne reluctantly nodded. “Okay,” she agreed, pulling the door closed behind her and leaving you alone in the room.
Sighing, you hesitantly got up and started undressing, refusing to meet your reflection in the mirror in front of you. You slowly slipped the dress on, the fabric covering your skin from your chest to your mid thighs. You adjusted the straps over your shoulders, not even trying to zip up the dress from behind. You reluctantly turned towards the mirror and physically recoiled at the sight in front of you.
You continued staring at your reflection in disgust, hating the way you looked. You started getting lost in your own self deprecating thoughts, so much so that you didn't hear the door open behind you, or the footsteps that abruptly stopped in their tracks.
“Wow.”
You flinched and spun around, locking eyes with your partner. Daryl stood by the bed, staring at you with wide eyes. He took a tentative step forward, his eyes trailing over your body.
Mistaking his wide eyes for disgust rather than awe, you crossed your arms over your chest. You tried to shield your body from his view, but Daryl walked over to you and held your arms in his hands, sending you a questioning look.
“Nah, why are ya doin' tha'?” he inquired, rubbing your arms with his hands. “Ya dun' need to hide yerself from me, 'specially not when yer lookin' so pretty all dolled up.”
Without meaning to, you let out a choked sob, tears starting to fall from your eyes. Instinctively, Daryl pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly to his chest. He didn't know why you were crying, but he didn't care. He would comfort you through it, just like you had comforted him through so many things, ranging from his inability to track down Sophia all the way to the guilt he felt over Beth's death.
“I look ridiculous,” you choked out, your cries muffled into his chest. “Everyone looks so beautiful in their dresses and I look like this. I can't—”
“Shh, s'okay,” Daryl whispered into you ear, rocking you from side to side. “S'okay. I got ya.”
He simply held you in his arms, allowing you to cry all your negative emotions into his shirt. When you finally managed to calm down, you pulled back and tearfully looked up at him.
“I'm sorry,” you mumbled. “It's so stupid.”
“Nah, it ain't stupid,” Daryl disagreed, taking your face into his hands. “But where's this all comin' from? Why do ya think tha' 'bout yerself?”
“I can't—I don't—”
“Please, peach,” he pleaded, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “Talk to me.”
You shook your head, casting your eyes down towards the floor. “I don't know. I just... I grew up being bullied for my looks, about my intelligence, for just about everything. When everything went to shit, I guess those insecurities got buried, but now, wearing this dress, I—”
Daryl cut you off by pressing his lips against yours, but quickly pulled away again. He looked deeply into your eyes, keeping your face in place to ensure that you kept your eyes locked on him.
“Do ya trust me?” he asked.
You nodded your head. “Of course I do.”
“Then listen real close, sunshine,” he began softly yet sternly. “M'not sure wha' fuckin' assholes talked this shit into yer head, but yer not wha' ya think ya are. Yer so unbelievably smart, and ya've proved it a lot of times. S'cause of ya tha' we were able to save Hershel way back when. S'cause of ya tha' we found tha' store with all those supplies while we were on the run fer eight months. Yer such a badass, and yer so unbelievably beautiful. I wish ya could see yerself the way I see ya. Yeah, ya have yer flaws, but they're part of wha' makes ya beautiful. Nobody's perfect, but yer the nearest damn thing there is to it.”
You were flabbergasted. You felt like crying all over again, but from pure happiness this time. “You really think so?”
“I dun' think, I know,” Daryl confirmed. “I love ya so much, bunny.”
“I love you too,” you replied with a small smile on your face. You turned around and faced the mirror again, giving him a full view of the back of your unzipped dress. “Zip me up?”
“'Course,” Daryl nodded, gripping the zipper and slowly zipping up the dress.
You shivered slightly at the feeling of his fingers slowly brushing along your spine. When your dress was zipped up, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. He looked at your reflection with a small smile, staring in awe at how beautiful he found you.
“Damn, woman,” he muttered with a small chuckle. “Yer gon' be the death of me, lookin' all pretty in this damn dress. Pair it with heels and we ain't makin' it outta this room tonigh'.”
You giggled and shyly ducked your head. “That's too bad. I promised Michonne that I'd go to this damn party.”
Daryl groaned and buried his head into your shoulder. “Fuck,” he mumbled, successfully coaxing another laugh from you. “Now I gotta wait? S'fuckin' ridiculous.”
Before you could respond, Rosita and Michonne walked into the room, making you and Daryl withdraw from each other's hold. Michonne and Rosita looked at you, smiles on each of their faces.
Michonne let out a playful wolf whistle. “Look at you! You're putting us all to shame.”
“She's right,” Rosita agreed. “You're looking real stunning. Daryl will have to fight of the other men. They're all going to want your attention.”
“Hell, some ladies, too. Daryl might have to fight me off,” Michonne joked.
Daryl rolled his eyes. “Nah, I ain't lettin' anyone take her from me. 'Specially not ya, Michonne.”
Michonne laughed lightly. “Can't blame a girl for trying.”
As Michonne and Daryl bickered back and forth, with Rosita adding her own playful input, you couldn't help but feel happy. In a matter of minutes, your partner and two of your closest friends had managed to cheer you up. You doubted that your insecurities would ever fully go away, but with people you love there to remind you of your worth, you would be more than okay.
And, just to tease Daryl a bit that night, you did end up wearing the heels with the dress, and Daryl made sure you knew just how beautiful you were to him that night—by worshipping your body like the goddess you were.
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TKATB: More theories! Yay!
This most certainly will contain spoilers for Days 1 and 2 of @fantasia-kitt 's 'The Kid At The Back', along with containing mentions of material found on her Twitter (https://twitter.com/fantasia_kitt).
WILL HAVE SPOILERS! IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED THROUGH DAYS 1 AND 2, I RECOMMEND FINISHING THEM FIRST.
Quite a lot of these may allude to the ones I posted a week(?) ago, but my brain has brained REALLY HARD (almost as hard as when I get when I see Geo) and I think I have more ideas/more specified ideas of what could happen.
- So, I am correct in assuming the fact that the Hallow's Ball is on Day 5 (because Day 1 is in fact Monday); now this might be a stretch, in fact, it probably is, but due to the fact the Higher Class paid a visit to the school, maybe some of them might show up? Or maybe the people who bullied Brittney (think the food fight route) try to publically humiliate her or something, because something tells me she's got a lot of enemies, and something pretty bad is gonna happen to her.
- Geo is mentioned to have been disqualified due to 'accidentally' shooting an arrow at another person and it cutting their hair. Jess mentions we'd have to go 'next year' to see him partake again, so I'm gonna guess this competition is an annual thing. Maybe (and I'm assuming this as well) Geo and Hyugo were part of the Higher Class (because their dad works with the city's Founder, so that's gotta be High Class if I've ever heard it), but they were moved down. Geo is seemingly using archery to try and get selected to return back to the Higher Class, but if so, why get purposefully disqualified over almost potentially killing someone? Maybe, someone *really* pissed him off, or maybe got him sent down for whatever reason (we know Geo has daddy issues so maybe his father treats him like shit because of it) and he's subtly trying to threaten them?
- Along with that, MC wonders why he didn't get arrested. Think about it, he's got money, a lot of it. Hyugo says how corrupt this city is, their father (I believe Geo is an illegitimate child, due to the mother cheating or smth idk) probably paid the cops to not give a shit.
- Hyugo also has a LOT of connections, is often MIA, and is in the student council, so he's got influence. (Maybe adding salt to Geo's wounds indirectly?) I have a feeling he goes MIA for his syndicate activities (he has access to sleeping pills); and maybe because he's part of the council and gets stupidly high ass grades, nobody questions it. Besides, he's probably got some sketchy operations going on to maintain it all.
- With Crowe asking about Marie Antoinette, I now feel that our 'responses' to whether she was a good or horrible person are things HE did. "She was ignorant, she raved while people were starving..." - MC to Crowe when choosing the 'She was a horrible person' choice. I'll ignore the latter part for now, because that was a normal thing for rich people to do at the time. But the ignorant part is interesting. Maybe the reason Crowe is so nice (and it's not a facade, according to Fantasia herself) is because he's trying to redeem himself? Sol, if you don't skip class and let him escort you, states: "Ichabod (Crowe's surname) it's always been you. I should have dealt with him years ago..." So, maybe, at some point, Crowe had a pristine relationship with his family, mother specifically, (he doesn't anymore) and the reasoning behind this is due to the fact he believed he was superior? Maybe he was even a bully at some point? Hell, maybe he even made fun of Sol, and Sol wants to obliterate him for it. He (Crowe) was making him (Sol), and now he is trying to steal his so(u)lmate?! How fucking dare he?!
- Brittney also states that she's astonished about how Deryl has almost no friends, so I think that's incredibly fascinating, because it's true. How does a bubbly, happy jock like him get ignored by so many? Maybe because he helped Brittney (along with Jess) when she was low?
- Again, about Brittney, I feel that that frat party 2 years ago shattered her reputation, her image, everything. I bet some damaging info got spread about her and it led to her 'mysteriously' leaving the cheerleading squad, becoming more isolated and essentially (I'm assuming this) getting moved down with Jess. (Check previous one for why I think Jess got moved down as well, but tldr is she lost her shit, maybe got physical and it got her and Brittney sent to the worse school together). - On Fantasia's twitter, there's a Day 3 nsfw image of Sol essentially standing in front of a mirror with blood everywhere (ill link the slideshow that i have of every image i found/liked), anyway it's the right one on slide 9; with the caption "All I see are flaws"....so maybe if you ignore him on Day 3 and hang out with Crowe, he'll start losing his shit? Maybe thinking he isn't good enough? - Also, in the Day 2 NSFW scene, there are some prominent burn marks on Sol's back...does he get abused to this day? Does he live alone and they're scars?????? Maybe that's what he meant when he says "I've been dealt worse" in relation to the bullying? He does have history with them after all.
So. That's basically it, brain will continue to brain. Until then, ciao. (and yes the Geo fanfic is coming dw) Slides: https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Wb_biHRk6g1gKj0WZ5XVwEtKGjFRTapDYerlEyhYPGE/edit#slide=id.g2cffd4cd112_0_34
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aroaceleovaldez · 1 day
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in your most recent tyson post, you said something about leo being distinctly autistic-coded and I was wondering if you could elaborate on that? it sounds really interesting (sorry if you've already posted something on this, I couldn't find anything though)
Of course! I do have a specific tag for talking about Leo's autistic-coding/traits - [here], and [one for Nico as well].
The main aspects with Leo being autistic-coded actually have a lot to do with Nico being autistic-coded, because it's the comparisons between the two that most clearly indicate Leo is autistic-coded rather than it just being his ADHD or etc.
So with Nico being autistic-coded, it's very clear in the Titan's Curse that he's intended to be autistic. First, the first series has a repeating pattern of secondary characters being very distinctly neurodivergent-coded in different ways (Annabeth's adhd/dyslexia, Tyson's down syndrome-coding, Nico's autism-coding). With Nico's introduction, he's pretty stereotypically autistic and we're given a lot of descriptors about him that are notably not attributed to him being ADHD, like it would be for other demigod characters. He doesn't register social cues such as people getting annoyed at him, he's asking/making inappropriate or impolite questions/comments, he gets particularly upset about change (such as Bianca joining the Hunt) and generally gets emotional, and one of his most notable traits he's introduced with is the fact that he has a special interest (MythoMagic) - and we're shown that this special interest particularly colors how Nico navigates the world. While ADHD has hyperfixations, we don't really get much acknowledgement of hyperfixations with demigods usually - Annabeth gets a little, but most others don't and it's not nearly as focused-in on as Nico's is.
Then as the series continues we see these traits stick with him and him start to show or voice more traits that similarly indicate he's autistic: He regularly mentions how he doesn't understand living people and prefers the company of the dead (social issues). He has more notable stims than other demigods (twisting his ring, fiddling with bones, etc). He's indicated to have strong sensory preferences (usually wearing mostly black/aversion to bright colors, usually wearing layers/his coat, multiple times he's described as wearing loose/baggy clothing or clothes too big for him). He has specific comfort items (his ring, likely his jacket(s) as well). We later get even more information about his special interests (Mythomagic/mythology/history and an older interest in pirates - the latter he specifically notes likely heavily influenced his feelings towards Percy). He struggles with emotions and facial expressions and tone. He struggles particularly with ostracism and feeling like he doesn't fit in and has something distinctly different about him from the people around him (who notably, all have ADHD, which indicates it isn't the ADHD that's making him feel that way), and other characters regularly describe him as being off-putting because of his strange behaviors - again, different from specific ADHD traits they recognize. And that last point is kind of notable because we have Hazel and Bianca for comparison - we know people are off-put by both Nico and Hazel because of being children of Hades/Pluto and their powers/aura, but other characters get past that general feeling of discomfort way faster with Hazel. And even after characters get past the death stuff with Nico, there's a second thing that they aren't moving past that isn't a factor with Hazel (Nico's autism).
So that brings us to Leo - Leo is paralleled to Nico a lot. And there's some very specific traits about him that we know are autistic-coding because of how they're used with Nico: He similarly struggles with social cues/etc, and in a very similar parallel to Nico describes how he prefers the company of machines to people because machines make more sense to him. He has similar types of clothing/sensory preferences (again some stuff with layers but also - pockets! He likes having pockets and things to put stuff in! He's even introduced as having a jacket with lots of pockets), and he has a distinct special interest (machinery) that we specifically know heavily influences how he views and navigates the world (constantly comparing things to machinery, describing things with machinery metaphors/terminology, etc etc). He even describes his entire general worldview to Hazel and it's a machine metaphor. He also similarly struggles with ostracization like Nico does, the only difference being that Leo specifically puts on a persona to compensate for areas he knows he's lacking in and very explicitly describes it as a means to make people like him, because without it he normally struggles to fit in (He's masking!). We also see notes of characters describing that similar discomfort with Leo's behaviors that they do with Nico, except without the aura of death this time. And when we're in Leo's POVs we see a very stark difference between his masking and his actual personality/behaviors such as his internal dialogues or how he behaves when he's alone. Also, like Nico, he stims more than other demigods, though for Leo it's more attributed to his ADHD. Leo also, more often than most, similarly struggles with tone and reading the room, such as making misplaced jokes/comments or etc.
But yeah! It's really interesting. Also it's just a fun thing that ADHD/dyslexia and autism have comorbidity, so it makes sense that we see demigods who are also autistic. It's also really fun to look at how other characters are coded in the series, what coding looks like in the riordanverse specifically (usually it's tied into the mythological stuff - like Chiron being in a wheelchair but he's actually a centaur, Grover being introduced as having a muscular disease but he's actually a satyr, demigods having adhd/dyslexia, Tyson being coded as having down syndrome but he's a cyclops, etc etc - it's a lot of specific metaphor stuff that I've talked about a bit before), and to look at how characters are compared to one another.
#pjo#riordanverse#leo valdez#nico di angelo#autistic nico#autistic leo#autism#analysis#Anonymous#ask#long post //#woof sorry that got long#im very passionate about this topic#re: characters being paralleled#Ms. ''Constantly Neutral - No Emotions'' Reyna looking at Nico stimming in the exact same way she does (twisting ring)#and internally going ''We have a lot in common. I don't know how I feel about that.'' is one of my favorites.#like. reyna. ma'am. you might be autistic. good luck with that.#with the pattern of coding in the first series i do suspect Rachel has some coding as well but i haven't been able to pinpoint what it is#I think it may be the whole seer thing and the fact that she could see the future#even before becoming the oracle/despite being a mortal rather than a demigod (who just get rare prophetic dreams normally)#and in BoTL her entire thing is that she's able to see things that no one else can and that's how they navigate the maze#particularly also with how the labyrinth is treated/how it affects people within it (see: Chris)#and how the only other seer in the first series - May - is characterized and her coding compared to Rachel's#also something something the seer traits become more prominent once Rachel meets Percy#something something metaphor about only being able to recognize neurodivergency traits once you're familiar with them#so Rachel meets Percy = introduction to the community > Rachel recognizes her own traits/symptoms > gets a support system (oracle)
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ofallthingsnasty · 1 day
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tw: workplace harassment, mental illness, gn reader, make sure to read the last paragraph as well characters: Crocodile, Doflamingo word count: 1k
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While I may be suffering from "I'm a total newbie and scared shitless of my boss" disease + an anxiety disorder, this would be so perfect for either Crocodile and Doflamingo.
Just think about it… You just started working for one of them - and both men certainly demand respect, can be quite scary when provoked, but you think you can weather any storm that might be coming your way. You’re grown, you’ve got bills to pay, they’ve been professional enough so far, it won’t be too bad, right? Oh, stupid, stupid you - because they can smell your little authority figure issues ten miles upwind.
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Both notice that you're green, easily impressed and hurried by their presence, notice how sweaty your hands and furrowed your brow gets - and both definitely corner you; try to get you into a frenzied state, right into panic mode just because it’s fun to see how you slowly fly off the hinges. They both toy with you in their own ways - Crocodile is just always standing behind you, silently watching, only the smell of smoke and his cologne telling you he's right there, looming over your shoulder. He enjoys the way your hands shake with whatever it is you’re doing, how you cough and shift around while he does absolutely nothing. His mere presence makes you so antsy he doesn't even have to say something and his silence is easily interpreted as criticism and mistrust by your anxious little brain. It only gets worse when he never talks about his little staring/surveillance sessions, never explains why he randomly shows up at your desk or workstation, never asks you for a word afterwards - you always feel like you’re not good enough, that no matter how long you’ve been by his side, he needs to check up on you. He’s an imposing man, too - so much bulk and smoke, just the thought of him asking you for a vis-a-vis keeps you up at night. And every day, every week spent fretting over him and his perception of you (coupled with the fact that you really, really need this job) makes you more and more insecure, makes it hard to unwind after yet another long day, makes you overanalyze every single glance, every word and move of his. He slowly creeps into your after-hours, your conversations with friends, your weekends, even your vacations.  And he can tell. Crocodile notices the slight, subtle changes. The way you smooth over your clothes before talking to him, how you place an index and middle finger over sternum as if to shield yourself from him, the fucking cold sweat shining on your forehead whenever he does question a decision of yours with a gruff bark. The way you avoid his eyes, stumble over your own feet in a hurry, the way he can see that you sleep worse and worse - that’s how he knows he's got you hooked, fully and wholly. That all you're thinking about is him and work and pleasing him and being good at work and again, him and work and him and- Your job is the only thing in your life now, from the moment you wake up to the time you lay your head down to sleep, everything is consumed by thoughts of him and his opinions about you and your abilities, always aiming to please and so, so nervous to fail. It’s perfect.
Doflamingo is way more vocal about it. He'll throw your work right back into your face, all sneers and acid tongue. It’s just not enough, never enough, reflects badly on him, on his company - whatever it is you do, it hails nothing but criticism and mockery and late nights to fix your stupid mistakes. He doesn’t even give you moments of rest, he just constantly picks on you until you’re seriously considering just resigning for your own mental health. He’s methodically destroying your self-esteem, makes you doubt your own abilities - you know you shouldn’t let him creep into your head as much as he does, but when all you hear is that you’re so fucking bad at your job, how much you suck - it sticks. You’re so stressed because of him you almost have a panic attack over putting your two weeks in and despite your suffering, you keep procrastinating, keep telling yourself you’ll do it tomorrow, when you have had a full night’s sleep. Problem is - you never do. He can tell by the way you’re idling, fiddling with the straps of your bag whenever he comes in for the day that you’re trying to leave - but that you're simply too scared of his reaction to pull the trigger. And that right there; that fear, that pedestal you put him on is the perfect breeding ground for all sorts of unethical things he can push you to do for him. He starts out small; things like getting him coffee in the mornings when you never did that before, a too-warm, lingering hand on your shoulder, a comment about your outfit - every little thing is calculated, tailored to slowly destroy your boundaries while you fear him more and more, give him way more authority over your life than you should. He knows it’s psychological, that someone else might be able to flip him off and leave without ever thinking twice about him. But you… You have accepted him as the one part of your life everything hinges on - you give him all that power in your sick little brain. Oh, he’ll use it well. The fun has only just started, rest assured. 
And while Crocodile gets to click his tongue, scoff and tell you that he'll take over from now on because clearly - you're just not capable and you obviously need him (not only at work but also in your whole life, silly), Doflamingo taunts you and tells you to make yourself useful, then, if you can't even do your job right. Maybe sucking his dick is your true calling - come on, let's see if you can do at least one thing right. One man wants to take your life over completely, sees you as the malleable (perfect) mess that you are, with all the potential that comes with it - and the other just wants to fuck you up for the next decade of your life, wants to be reason you wake up in the middle of night because his vicious smile still bounces around in that head of yours
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eatingfireflies · 14 hours
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2.2 is coming and if I don't write this now, how can I get jossed later?
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This is the moment when I started to wonder if their 2.0 conversation was a role play.
Like, we know this issue is a sore point for Ratio. The fact that this guy he called a loud peacock in 2.0 made a joke about his failure to get into the Genius Society and all he said was 'I was being sarcastic'?? Babe, is something wrong? You barely touched your sharp and witty comeback.
(Btw I checked both Cn and Jp, he says 'It was just a joke.')
And I don't want to bring up the voice acting because the way voices sound is subjective and what I hear might not be what you hear, but the Double Indemnity scenes with Ratio are probably the most relaxed we ever see Aventurine ever. (I'm talking about the Cn version, but I played in Jp audio and I could hear it there too.) He's playful and his voice is higher pitched, so different from what we've seen of him so far.
It sounds like Ratio and Aventurine have known each other longer than they want us to believe in their 2.0 convo.
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I mean, the implication here is Ratio did some research on Aventurine's background recently and that's how he found out about Aventurine's past. So we make the assumption that they haven't been working together for long.
Look, they even did a Penacony remix of their Final Victor conversation
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But honestly, you'd think Ratio would have figured out if he trusted Aventurine or not at this point, considering he came back for more after Final Victor (lmao??)
Also, we know Aventurine had been planning for Penacony since his call to Topaz, where he asked for her help. It's hard to believe that he went through all the trouble of asking two different Stonehearts to lend him their cornerstones and then went to Penacony and the Dreamscape with Ratio, whom he barely knows. That's too much gambling, Aventurine!
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We know the Family won't let anyone from the IPC to enter the Dreamscape and Aventurine only gets a pass because of the Watchmaker's invite
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But Himeko is wrong here: Aventurine didn't go inside the Dreamscape alone and he does have someone backing him up. It just happened that almost no one else saw Ratio in Penacony and the one scene where we did see him talking to Aventurine was 2.0, where he got angry and left Aventurine babbling to himself.
But now that we're here, what did Ratio do in Penacony aside from bicker and betray?
His initial job is to gather intel, afaik. Aventurine tells him to go look into things in 2.0 before he left. And he does give Aventurine updates in 2.1 (Aventurine finds out about Firefly from Ratio) so good for you, professor!
Ratio is Aventurine's connection to his colleagues outside. Once Aventurine's plans enter the Dead phase, Ratio is the only one left to tell Topaz and Jade if the plan had been a success or not. (Aventurine also makes a joke about the Genius from the Council of the Mundanites offering to be his undertaker. In the Jp version, he says 'So the Genius from the Council of the Mundanites wants to claim my corpse? What an honour.' So there's also that... Uh. Idk how dead dead Aventurine really is, but at least we know someone's looking after his body while he's gone lmao??)
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But also he's Aventurine's bait to Sunday, the (fake) weak link in Aventurine's plans that Sunday thought he could exploit.
And the 3rd one is a bit complicated, because it is a gamble. Remember Aventurine's E1? Prisoner's Dilemma? Yeah, it's kinda like that. I talked about it before, but let's copy paste it here for easier reading (and because this post totally needs to be a wall of text)
Let's zoom out a bit again and remember that Aventurine was sent to Penacony because Diamond thinks this whole affair could still have a peaceful resolution. Meaning: Aventurine is the kind option. The IPC could have sent Opal instead, but it sounds like that means there would be a body count.
And I think that's why Ratio is here and why he agreed to cooperate. Because if Aventurine's plan works out, only Aventurine's life will ever be in real danger. (And we know from Ratio's note that he also took steps to increase the chances of Aventurine coming back.)
Ratio being there is important to the plan because
Him being from the Intelligentsia Guild removes some of the heat from the Family. If Ratio is coming in as a plus one, the IPC (in this case, I'm assuming it's Aventurine because he's the guy in charge of the operation) chose the best person for the job. It makes the Family happier knowing there are not two IPC envoys walking around the Dreamscape and Aventurine has a buddy who can move around more freely than another IPC employee could
But because Ratio is an outsider, he's also the weak link in Aventurine's plans. Another IPC employee will probably not betray Aventurine, but the Guild has no particular horse in this race. We were also led to believe from their 2.0 conversation that Ratio doesn't like Aventurine very much. This is what I meant when I said Ratio is a bait: Aventurine was pretty much dangling him in front of Sunday, making Sunday think he could use Ratio to ruin Aventurine's plans. The important thing of course is the trust the two of them have for each other (yay, Prisoner's Dilemma). Ratio could ruin Aventurine's plan if he wants to (very bad for all involved because I'm guessing Opal is the next step) and Aventurine could fail (not as bad for everyone involved after 2.1 because the IPC has already won regardless. There's still a Phase 2 in Aventurine's plan and Ratio seems to want him back after that, so I guess he'd consider it a failure if Aventurine doesn't return?), but trusting each other means they win.
Tl;dr Ratio's presence in Penacony is a bit of a gamble on Aventurine's part but it worked well for him so far. Ratio is here to make sure everyone stays alive. (And maybe the Phase Flame? I honestly don't know if the Annihilation Gang will ever come back again, but for now I'm going with the obvious and assuming Ratio is here because he thinks Aventurine's plan will work and work with the least amount of pain for everyone.)
Thank you for getting this far. Why do we think they deserve Oscars?
Aside from the movie references (we'll get to that), we have 3 different instances where Aventurine mentions acting / the 'script'.
The most direct is the conversation with future!Aventurine in the garden maze: future!Aventurine praises Ratio's acting while Aventurine says 'Or he might not be acting at all' (the inability of these two to admit they are friends, but more importantly they don't think the other person thinks highly of them, is2g).
The next one is hidden in the mission description
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And the other one got lost in translation. This was translated to 'You catch on quickly' in En. In Jp he says something like 'You have a good sense for drama, professor' (Sorry Idk what this is in the og Cn)
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Finally, Double Indemnity. I haven't seen the movie, but it seems to be about an insurance salesman who gets seduced by a hot wife femme fatale into helping her get rid of her husband so she could claim his insurance. Double Indemnity refers to this clause where the insurance gets doubled if the person suddenly dies of an accident.
I've thought about this so hard, let me tell you. What could this possibly have to do with Aventurine and the mission? (For example, 'Hot wife Sunday seduces Ratio the insurance salesman into helping him get rid of Aventurine' etc.) And I honestly still don't know but one detail does help my theory so I'm pulling it out:
The relationship between the insurance salesman and the hot wife femme fatale was known only to the two of them. To the insurance claims adjuster, who was investigating the case and trying to prove the husband's death wasn't an accident, those two are unrelated people who might have seen each other once or twice. The claims adjuster suspected the wife, but had no idea of the insurance salesman's involvement. The truth is, they actually knew each other a full year before the plan was set in motion. Hey, doesn't it actually fit nicely now?
(Spellbound otoh, I still don't know. I have a Sunday and Gallagher reading of it, but Hvy keeps telling me no and making it gay instead so Idk.)
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saphflare · 21 hours
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Personal take on "Chayanne as a Glass Child Interpretation" that no one asked for
===
Apparently people have been using the "Chayanne has glass child syndrome" thing to rag on q!Philza, which I haven't seen, at least not overtly. Or at least not with the purposeful intent of labelling q!Philza completely as a Bad Parent. But I can get why ppl would feel like that is an attack on his character (*stares at DSMP*)
But I also kinda wish some ppl understood that when we interpret the fact that Chayanne is a glass child, it isn't necessarily to blame q!Philza and his parenting.
please
Because anyone that has a singular critical thinking brain cell can see that the man is trying so fucking hard to raise his two children, and that he loves both of them so much. And that is the sad thing isn't it. Because the thing about glass children is that practically always it is not intentional, and the parents never mean to neglect or force their more capable/older children to become so. That it is often just a consequence of the circumstances of their lives together, and it is something that isn't obvious most of the time until it of course becomes an issue. That for all the efforts of the caretaker(s), they sometimes need to focus on one child more because of their needs and that is perfectly understandable, especially if it is health needs. But as a result, there are gaps in the support and needs of the family. And so, other children in the family that are capable of helping just end up doing so because additional aid and care is needed.
And if you especially look at the Death family's circumstances, we can see those circumstances in play. That the island is dangerous compared even to "normal" society, with the government system provides little to no additional care for its residents & their families. If not downright making it basically punishing them because they have children, due to needing to work for additional resources for their kids (cookies, tasks, etc.) And then there are the monsters and external forces trying to kill and torment all of them. Now that is already fucked, but then you consider the fact that Philza has two children, as he is their primary caretaker due to q!Missa's frequent absence. Which not blaming q!Missa, as the family still loves him and like probable lore reasons, but regardless that adds to the circumstances of the family. That q!Philza is the only one, for the majority of the time, responsible for two kids instead of just one for most of the other parents.
Which again, I will say that other residents also help out with taking care of other eggs of their own and all that, I won't deny that. But they can't always know or be able to pinpoint all things that the two children specifically need or be reliable as the island limits their ability to help.
That at the end of the day, Philza in specific is considered the official guardian for Chayanne and Tallulah, and the one that they spend most time with in their development on the island.
That with the constant danger and additional circumstances surrounding them, it is no wonder that Chayanne ended up taking more responsiblity, becoming more mature in the process. That like any other kid that could see their family struggling and also feel it, he wanted to help his dad. And especially at first, when they had Tallulah and it was evident she needed support due to her asthma and health issues (aka internet issues). She needed not just the support of Philza, who was already lacking consistent support of a partner, but also her brother to help out in case. That it might not have been the intention for Chayanne to take on these burdens or have to grow up so fast, but it happened out of necessity.
That it was as a result of everything they have faced on that island, both good and bad, for Chayanne to have turned out the way he has now and before.
And, I want to stress this so fucking much that neither Philza nor Tallulah are responsible for this. No one in this family is completely at fault because for fucks sakes it isn't exactly like they fucking meant for Chayanne to be a parentified child. That yes their circumstances contributed to to the situation, but that is the same as saying the island has given them lemons and they had to just do the best with it. And that in some ways, they are still growing out of their original dynamics, even months now that they have changed so much and literally have been displaced onto a new place. That in this manner specifically, Philza sometimes still falls into the same mentality in believing Tallulah is still the same little girl that he needs to constantly look out for, when she has become so much more and grown to be able to defend herself. Honestly almost, if not, just as well as Chayanne. But I also acknowledge that he has improved quite a bit, and given her much more freedom and autonomy, especially since they all reunited after Purgatory. But he is still getting used to it, and even in these few months, he has learned to give them room to grow a bit.
Also, I don't blame him for sometimes falling back on the old habits considering you know the dangers he is so guarded against are real and most definitely out to get him and his eggs.
The whole thing of people having flaws and making mistakes yada yada ya, they don't know everything they need to do all the time, especially with things changing constantly and all that shit.
And in some ways, I look at Chayanne right now and I see he is more of a glass child healing from their early circumstances. That his family has acknowledged in some way that he had to take on so much more than what a kid should have. And while I don't think they have unpackaged everything, and that it something that will take a lot more time. Not to mention all the new issues that pop up every other fucking day (for void sake, let this family have a goddamn break). But the thing is they are improving. That they are definitely moving towards that direction in which they are looking in retrospect of what they had to deal with and realizing things. And then, they are having conversations about it together.
And look, for all the things you can say about Death Family, they are all trying their best. That yes perhaps their family is dysfunctional due to fact that it is literally IMPOSSIBLE to cultivate a healthy stable and safe environment for them to grow up in. And yes, of course there are interpersonal issues and current trauma that they need to work through because of all the things they experienced on the island, there are issues in every family, small or big that needs to be worked through. But that doesn't negate the fact that they are trying so hard to the best of their abilities because of each other. That it is undeniable that they have sought to improve and grow and become who they are because they love their family, and hold each other closely in their hearts. That they are still people actively trying to discover things about themselves. And it will always be a struggle in their places as the family they are, but they do so out of love for each other.
But yes whole point is, "Chayanne has experiences that can be comparable to that of a glass child" and "q!Philza is a flawed person that is trying his best" and "Death Family is dysfunctional but also loving of each other" are all statements that can exist together.
Death Family isn't perfect and I love them for that <3
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tobiasdrake · 1 day
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Could you tell us something underrated about Bulma? For being around since literally the very beginning, I find she’s not talked about as much.
Bulma is the scariest person in the Dragon Ball universe. The anime softens a lot of her edges. And, like, she's not a total monster; She cares about things like people not being killed by genocidal assholes too.
But she is such an asshole and I love it. Bulma is the character I relate to most in Dragon Ball.
(Also she has an unshakable faith in Goku and he'll always be the number one martial artist in her eyes, and any man that wants to be with her needs to respect that.)
For starters, it's worth noting that the naming convention of Bulma's family is called out as weird even in-universe. Nobody bats an eye at characters being named after fruit or vegetables or rice or the Dairy Special Forces but they draw the line at underwear.
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That's weird, Bulma. Your name is weird. Your father Briefs is weird. Your sister Tights is weird. Your son Trunks is weird. Your daughter Bra is weird. Why is your family like this?
Nearly every single person in the cast is someone who Goku initially had to fight in some way or another. Bulma is no exception, though their battle took place as early as issue #1.
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When shooting a 12-year-old in the face with a gun failed, Bulma resorted to manipulation and subterfuge, and thus the most important relationship in the entire Dragon Ball universe was born.
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Though Goku would not be the only person whose arm Bulma twisted, as this initial journey also sees her enslave a sentient being to do her bidding.
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Despite ironically filling the role of a Buddhist monk in the original Journey to the West, this opening arc lays a lot of groundwork for who Bulma is. She tricks Goku and enslaves Oolong to coerce assistance in her quest to conjure up a magically-generated boyfriend (or infinite strawberries).
...then again, Tang Sanzang imprisoned Sun Wukong in the original so maybe Bulma's a better adaptation than I gave her credit for.
Point is, Bulma's a fireball. Even Goku sees it.
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In the first arc, we also see her get accustomed to calling on Goku like he's her Pokemon.
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Bulma is not a martial artist. She knows next to nothing about the implicate complexities of the art. Though she does enjoy being on the outer fringe of it and watching from a distance.
Well. Not from that much distance, because she always has the best seats in the house. Courtesy of inappropriate violence with firearms.
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Not only is Bulma complicit in this - they clearly discussed it in advance, based on Oolong's remark and Bulma's knowing smile - but in the 23rd she actively makes it happen.
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Sitting in the nosebleeds is for peasants; Bulma is a princess.
I should probably note that after Lunch moves on and leaves the group, Bulma doesn't lose access to violent backup. She just trades Lunch out for Chi-Chi.
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The Battle of the Soccer Moms is the best part of the 25th's Junior Division. There's only room for one Alpha Bitch in these audience stands.
Notably, it doesn't take long for her relationship with Goku to grow into a genuine friendship. Following this first arc, Bulma goes out of her way to hang out with Goku when she can and is always excited to see him.
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Fun fact, despite the fact that Bulma's boyfriend Yamcha is actively living with them at the time, Bulma's dad ships her with Goku.
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No love for Yamcha in this house. Notably, when they're six years older and it's not fucking weird, Bulma herself starts to agree.
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But it's honestly best for everyone that this never became a romance. Bulma would have been even more miserable with Goku than she was with Yamcha, and having them hook up would deprive us of one of the greatest platonic male/female friendships in anime.
I'm not saying Vegeta is a replacement goldfish for Goku who got married and became unavailable this same day.
...but I'm not not saying that.
So far as martial arts go, her practical knowledge of the art is simple: Goku is a) invulnerable and b) infinity powerful, and that's all she needs to know. Nobody matches Goku. Ever.
You might think that this unyielding confidence in Goku as the Supreme Warrior would cause some conflicts for Bulma. Her boyfriend Yamcha is one of Goku's rivals, and has his eye on the Tenkaichi Budokai medal.
You'd be wrong. Bulma knows exactly who she's rooting for.
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It's Goku. It's always been Goku. It's always going to be Goku. Bulma watches Yamcha and Krillin gush over how well they plan to do in the tournament and her takeaway is "LOL Goku's going to school both of you clowns."
This attitude makes it really funny to imagine what her relationship with Vegeta must be like, I gotta say. That Goku will always be #1 in Bulma's eyes can't be doing good things for Vegeta's insecurity.
But I digress.
Bulma is an exceptional scientist who comes from an exceptional scientific background. She's from one of if not the richest families in the world courtesy of her father inventing revolutionary shrinking technology that changed the entire nature of how products are transported.
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You can put anything in a Capsule Corp. hoi-poi capsule. Throughout the series, we see not just vehicles stored in these capsules, but portable homes, weapons, and her father's pornography collection.
For her part, Bulma's a chip off the old block. I've spoken at length in the past about Bulma's invention of the Dragon Radar, trivializing what was meant to be a holy quest of virtue and turning the miracle dragon Shenron into her own personal plastic surgery vendor. She was 15 years old when she made that.
One year later, she extrapolated her father's shrinking technology into a portable device that safely applies its principles to people.
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But both of those devices pale in comparison to the greatest invention of her life.
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No, not the kid. Though he's cool too.
In a sense, despite being out-of-focus for most of it, the entire Cell Arc is Bulma's masterpiece. It's a proxy war between two mad scientists over the fate of the Earth. Seeking to kill Son Goku and avenge the Red Ribbon Army, Dr. Gero destroyed the world with his Androids.
Bulma took exception to that. And by "took exception", I mean she bent the time-space continuum over her knee and spanked it.
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Trunks's journey through time is the culmination, both of Bulma's impossible super-genius and of her unyielding faith that Goku is the answer to any problem that needs to be solved with violence.
Dr. Gero's master stroke was to flood the world with murderous Androids. Bulma's response was to load a bullet named Goku into a gun named Trunks and fire it through time to put it between his eyes. Everything that transpired from there was the consequence of their two plans colliding.
The happier future we get to know in the Buu Saga is the world that Bulma made happen. Because the woman who would make a personal assistant out of our Great Green God's greatest miracle had the audacity and the irreverence to violate causality itself.
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Text
I'm always watching you Pt. 1
Here is where we've got our borrower being the oblivious one, and our obsessive giant just can't get enough of her~
TWs: stalking, invasion of privacy, and lowkey (highkey?) yandere
~~~~~~~~~
It'd been a couple of months now since Leela had moved into this new home, her last (being the one to the right of this one) having become uninhabitable after the humans had all moved out for good, leaving nothing for her to scavenge.
She was thankful for the final spur to change her own place of residency, though. Her new home and its singular inhabitant were much better - it wasn't even a fair comparison! He always had food laying around to take crumbs from, he was a bit of a klutz with losing small things and forgetting about them (much to Leela's continued joy), he lived alone and didn't entertain guests, and he was perfectly, blissfully oblivious to her existence, not suspicious at all.
It was nothing like her last place, with a whole family of humans to worry about spotting her and more than one of them being meticulous cleaners to the point it had become quite the task for her to scavenge enough food for a single full night's meal.
Really, the only small, insignificant issue she had here was this... feeling that she'd been getting. It'd started only a day or two after she moved in, and from then on, it'd become a near constant thing.
Honestly, at this point, she'd grown quite used to it, brushing it off as a quirk of moving homes again for the first time in so long.
But every now and then, it'd catch up to her, that feeling, the creeping, prickling sensation that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and sweat bead along her spine. If she had to equate the feeling to anything, it was like the one time she'd been prowled on by a cat, barely managing to escape with her life.
It was the feeling of being watched - watched by a predator.
Now, she shook her head, firmly pushing aside the notion. It was obviously untrue, and it wouldn't do her any good to feed into her paranoia.
No, she wasn't in any more danger than usual for a borrower, and she most certainly wasn't being watched.
Huffing softly to herself with a wry little smile, she hoisted her sack over her shoulder and set out towards the entrance to her nest, ready for another day of successful borrowing to further stock up her stores.
The only actual problem she had with living here was that the giant tenant was something of a shut-in, seeming to work from home, and he rarely ever left. In fact, even his groceries seemed to be delivered straight to his doorstep!
But that was okay. Really, it was!
Her new giant was rather... lacking, in terms of self-awareness.
She muffled a giggle to herself, pressing her palm to her lips to smother her grin as she recalled the few (or, well, more than a few now that she thought about it) times where the human had walked right into the room she was in and never even came close to noticing her, even when she was practically in plain sight!
She finally allowed herself a little smile at the recollection, fondly shaking her head.
It was almost endearing - for a giant.
And it meant that she felt perfectly safe to go out to do some foraging now, even in the broad daylight with the oh-so-tall giant sitting right at home.
-
Silas bit his lip and shivered in pleasure as he watched his sweet little guest scamper between the shadows along the floor, her hair tied up with a plastic little clip - the pastel blue one this time. It was his favorite one of her collection, and he briefly allowed himself to entertain the fantasy that she'd worn it just for him. His eyelids lowered to half mast at the notion, and he released a low, enraptured hum, a hazed breath gusting over his lower lip.
A moment later, he swallowed languidly, and he nudged aside his idle daydreams with efficiency of many long hours of practice.
She wasn't wearing it for him, he knew. Not yet.
For now, his let his gaze seem to stay unerringly on his computer in front of him as it always did. His peripheral vision was better than most, and it was a trait he'd been making liberal use of in the past few months since his heart-stealing, precious little doll had come into his life - into his home.
He had to bite his lip again to hold back a croon as he watched her climb as nimble as a fairy onto the kitchen counter to his left, with him sitting directly in her line of sight (and him conversely in hers) from where he'd taken up residence at his dining room table.
She only spared him a brief glance, dismissing his presence as easy as anything. If Silas hadn't know any better, he would've thought she was teasing him.
But he did know better, unfortunately. After all, it was his own hard work that had gotten the both of them to this point. His sweet fairy had been so heart-breakingly skittish at first, jumping at the slightest sound and flinching at the mere sight of him.
It had hurt, truthfully, but he'd never dared let it show. It wasn't her own fault after all, that she didn't understand him yet.
Instead, he'd been meticulous in changing her reactions to him. He slowly but surely convinced his precious little creature that he was just a harmless, oblivious human being, nothing like whatever made her so upsettingly wary of his presence.
Why would she have to fear him if he never seemed to notice anything around him to even come close to being able to cause her any harm?
Oh, it had been difficult, and at times he had wanted to cave into his desires and turn to drink in her presence directly (to reach over and catch her with his bare hands and hold her close and-), but he never did. He was rather prideful of this fact. And there was a saying, wasn't there? That slow and steady wins the race?
Silas felt a curl of warmth low in his gut as he watched his adorable guest putter around on his countertop, gathering the fresh crumbs he'd purposefully left on the surface despite his distaste for being so untidy.
Yes, for now, this was plenty. For now, he would sate himself through these less direct means.
It was true that the miniature cameras he'd procured and hidden in her nest never did her justice, but at least they were enough for now as the only way he could content himself with watching her all safe and warm and tuckered out in her adorable little burrow beneath the wooden slats of the closet of the spare bedroom. It had been rather easy to find her precious nest (she almost always headed in the direction of the guest bedroom after she finished her foraging, after all), but it had still been quite the exhilarating discovery for him to pull up a loose board and find what could only be said nest, empty at the time and fluffed with downy feathers and old cotton socks. It was far less than she deserved, of course, and he had had to fight back the immediate, intense urge to find her and scoop her up and away from the hovel. The only reason he hadn't done so was his self-awareness of the misunderstanding such an abrupt turn in his behavior could cause.
And he could admit that her little self-made home within his own was heart-throbbingly enchanting in its entitlement - as if she was staking a claim upon him like he dreamed of doing to her. So he let her be, for now.
One day (one day soon), though, he would watch her sleep before him, curled up and warm and safe in the palm of his hand, his to hold and keep and love forever.
-
Hhehhehehuuhuhuhuh yandere giant, here we come!!~~ :33333
Ya'll I haven't given this a read through yet so hopefully any mistakes are minimal!!! Hope you enjoyed tho!~
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