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#a fair day’s work = trying to kill your children
leafdragon16 · 3 months
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It’s so funny to me that Alex and Mandroid know each other
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saetoru · 6 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)
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synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case
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length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)
contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll
notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away
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right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.
so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.
it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.
by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.
but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.
and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.
“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.
“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.
bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.
suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.
“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.
you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.
“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”
“i know.”
“you should be at school grounds.”
“i know.”
“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.
bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.
“where did you find these kids?”
“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”
again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.
“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”
“i told them they’d be safe here.”
they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.
maybe not right now.
you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.
your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.
you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”
they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.
right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.
“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.
“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”
great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.
“here.”
“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.
“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”
“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”
“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”
“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.
for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.
you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”
——————
nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.
he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.
you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.
the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?
“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”
“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”
“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”
“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”
“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”
“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”
“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.
being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.
you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.
haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.
suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.
there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.
but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.
but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.
“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”
something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.
something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.
“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”
“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”
“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.
“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”
“what changed?”
“everything.”
“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.
“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.
“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”
“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.
co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.
but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.
“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”
you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.
“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.
“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”
“for us…all?”
“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”
he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”
it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.
“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”
“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”
you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.
so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.
“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”
“but you did.”
“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”
“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”
“they need me,” he defends.
“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.
you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.
he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.
you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.
they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.
suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.
“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”
“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.
“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”
“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.
“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.
“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”
he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.
cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.
“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.
he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”
“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”
————— BONUS —————
“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”
“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.
“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”
“what—”
“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”
“that’s not—”
“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”
“he’s not even married—”
“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”
“gojo—”
“see ya!”
he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.
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satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts
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syoddeye · 1 month
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useless
Part one of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. Part one uses two:
42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years
14. Opposites attract
~2k words, Price x f!Reader. Some liberties were taken with canon, obvs. Please enjoy!
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You meet John Price when you're fifteen years old. 
Being the new kid is never easy, but you have some practice. This is the fifth time your family has moved since you were born. Such is life when your mother's an ambassador. However, it is your first time attending an actual school, and it's miserable. It doesn't matter who your mother is when your peers are the children of millionaires, celebrities, and executives. Compared to them, you're a nobody, just easy pickings.
But compared to John, you might as well be a princess. 
The son of your mother's assistant, you see John almost every day. You do not attend the same school, of course. Despite the awfulness of its students, your school has standards, after all, but every day after the last bell, you and your security detail fetch John to rendezvous at your family's sprawling home. Since both sets of your parents work long and odd hours, you spend a great deal of time together. Usually, you study, eat dinner, maybe read or watch television, but you do not necessarily talk. He's as surly as an old man, unpleasant on good days and unbearable on bad ones.
You don't look at John when he slides into the car anymore. You're enthralled in Sabriel, too busy to acknowledge him, that is until you feel his eyes on you. 
"What?"
"Didn't say anything."
"You're staring," You huff, lowering the book, only to almost drop it. "What happened to your face?!"
A purpling, inky black bruise covers John's swollen left eye. It's nasty, but he looks bored by the question.
"Scrapped. Some idiot ran his mouth."
"So you hit him? Then he hit you?"
"That's generally how it works," He says dismissively, crossing his arms and leaning into the seat to stare out the window.
You roll your eyes and return to the Abhorsen. "Your mom's gonna kill you."
He doesn't have a comeback for that. 
Predictably, his mom loses it when she arrives to pick him up. Throws a fit, her anger evenly split between John and his school. You watch from the top of the stairs as your mother consoles her friend and offers advice before they leave. John scowls, the expression deepening when he catches you listening in. You give a shit-eating grin before retreating to your room. Serves him right for fighting. Boys.
Of course, though, in a rotten turn of events, his mother leverages her position, and John enrolls in your school. Due to your relationship, you're naturally coupled together both in and outside of the classroom. It isn't for lack of trying on your peers' parts. You can grudgingly admit John's a good-looking boy. He has all the makings of a popular kid. Athletic, intelligent, and withdrawn, just enough to make people wonder in a good way. He's regularly asked out, the invitations often extended in your company. You don't miss how other girls look at him or glare at you.
Jokes on them, he's easily the most unpleasant person you've ever had the displeasure to know.
"What are you putting down on the careers interest form?" You ask one afternoon, sprawled on the couch while John sits with his back to it, reading.
"SAS. Enlisting next year."
"Military? How noble." You muse. "Your dad's not–"
"No," His head turns a fraction. "But my grandfather served. North Africa."
It's the first you've heard of it. John doesn't talk much about his family, nor do you make a habit of asking. You don't pay close attention to the adults' conversations either. "Well, you're pretty strong and clever, I guess," you temper the compliments, uneasy about doling them out to him. So you'll fair well, I bet."
He doesn't respond for a minute before a quiet "Thank you," ekes out. 
For whatever reason, your face heats. How embarrassing. You tap your pen against your blank form, grateful he faces away. Yet as a silence follows and stretches, irritation sidles alongside discomfiture. Honestly, this is what you'd like to show the girls at school. Prove that John's actually quite annoying. 
"Now's about the time another person would ask what I'm putting down."
John doesn't look up from his book. "I know what you're going to write."
You bristle. "Oh, do you? Enlighten me."
"Artist. Writer. Actress. Something useless."
In one fluid movement, you sit up and strike him across the crown with your notebook. "You're such an asshole!" You quickly create distance between his stupid, stunned face and yourself, stomping all the way to the stairs. Halfway up the steps, you crouch, pressing your face between the balusters. "You're not going to amount to anything!"
You don't speak to him after that—not entirely, of course. Your families are too intertwined to avoid him completely, but the incident strains your already tenuous relationship. It's awkward and tense, though neither of your families notices the shift. You sit in silence at joint dinners. You leave him alone in the den after school. You latch on to other singletons in class, avoiding him in the halls.
Months pass, and as John declared, he enlists the moment the school term ends. Freshly sixteen, and scheduled to ship out to basic. 
The morning he leaves, your mother drags you to his house. You stand speechless on the walk outside when he marches out with his rucksack. His head's shaved. He grew an inch and filled out some in the last few weeks when you weren't paying attention. Still a boy, but clearly on his way to becoming a man.
His mother all but shoves him at you to say goodbye. He stares down at you now, the twit. 
"Good luck." It's the nicest thing you can manage.
"Break a leg," He responds, hauling his bag over his shoulder. "Don't be useless."
You're too busy noticing how his eyes are the same color as the sky to feel even a twinge of irritation.
When he files into the waiting taxi, his mother bursts out into sobs. You watch the car until it disappears down the next street, trying to understand why your chest is so tight.
It’s a decade before you see him again.
~~
"I told the Prices you'd pop by."
You nearly fumble your card, phone cradled between your shoulder and ear, and clumsily tap it against the scanner. Mouthing an apology to the disinterested cashier, you take your bag and find your words.
"Why would you do that?" You ask, unable to completely mask your disdain. "I told you I have plans for New Years." 
Your mother tsks. "Surely you can pencil in some of our oldest friends for an hour tomorrow."
The automatic doors open, and the wintry air envelops you instantly. The plastic bag taut in the crook of your arm, you flip the collar of your coat and start the return trek to your flatshare. "I haven't seen them since graduation, since we moved back to Virginia."
"And you moved back to London, what, eight months ago?" Her end muffles a moment while she says something to her aide. Her voice is sterner when she speaks again. "They've been asking about your job, how acting's going…" Her voice trails, leaving the works or not going unspoken.
You swallow, tucking your chin into your scarf to consider the remainder of the conversation. "Fine. I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon. But I'm not staying late. I have plans." You don't. You did have an invite to a party a week ago, but that was before Jeff decided Jane from work was 'more his speed'. More 'conventional'. Though you'd seen the breakup coming for weeks and the relationship only a measly six months old, it still stung. Since coming back to London, you've had more than enough rejection.
Dozens of auditions. Dozens more interviews. Zip, zilch, zero. No callbacks, no non-speaking roles. And while you are the favorite stage manager for several small local theaters and Yes Woman, you weren't any closer to the stage. Something your mother loves to remind you of. Between her rapid ascent up the career ladder and your decision to study theater, an uncrossable gulf cropped up between you. It grew with each passing day. Moreso, when you reject every offer of financial support or connection. Her support means control. Ownership. You won't have it.
The conversation drifts to other topics—Dad, mostly. He's still putting around after her, content in his retirement. They'll spend New Year's at the White House, of course. You're pushing through the door to your place when she drops the bomb.
"John'll be there, too."
This time, you drop your keys.
~~
There is no excuse you can make to back out now. You wait on the top step of the Price's home. It's smaller than you remember. You hear people inside, music, and laughter. You hesitate. Given what you told your mother, they probably expected you far earlier than nine, but you barely mustered the courage to leave your room. You practically blacked out on the tube, leaving the station in a daze with your cheap bubbles. Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door. No time for stage fright.
The foyer is a time capsule, aside from the dozens of coats hanging on hooks and a coat rack. Framed photos of the Prices throughout the years line the short corridor leading further into the home. John's center stage for most of them. You hang your coat and slowly edge down memory lane, pausing when you see your own face looking back at you. Aged fifteen, the first day of school. You and John in different uniforms, sulking for different reasons. It was the last time you were the same height.
There are a lot of photographs of you in the hallway gallery. Ones you didn't know existed. You get stuck on a still of you and John from behind. It's from the London Zoo, from some ridiculous event your mother's work mandated you attend. The photo is simple, accidentally composed almost professionally. You and John lean against the rail overlooking the lion exhibit. You excitedly point at the pair lazing about in the shade, and John…John's focus is on you.
The sound of your name rips you away from the moment, and Mrs. Price beckons from the doorway to the living area.
The reunion between yourself and Prices is sweeter than you thought it would be. It's odd to see them older. As jarring as it is when you see your own parents, as sparingly as those visits are. Wrinkles, spots, graying hairs…But unlike your parents, none of the familiar warmth is missing from the Prices. They fuss, complimenting your secondhand dress and gushing over the bottom shelf champagne. They awkwardly introduce you to the closest guests, some claiming to have met you as a teenager. But you feel Mrs. Price's hand on your back, gently ushering and ushering, until you arrive at the threshold of the kitchen.
He's taller, tanner, and a hell of a lot broader than you remember him.
"John? Look who's here!"
You step into the kitchen with a gentle nudge from Mrs. Price, and the figure from many memories and more than a handful of confusing and mortifying dreams turns to face you.
Your name slips from his mouth in an arrogant purr, and the little tug of his lip into a smirk instantly pokes at your patience. He's literally only said your name, and already he's resurrected the same shade of vexation you felt ten years ago.
You're going to need something stronger than champagne.
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kentopedia · 9 months
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carefully, i was going to live
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FEATURING. past nanami kento x f!reader, gojo satoru x reader — wc: 2.9k
SUMMARY: you and gojo realize you share the same kind of pain.
CONTENTS: shibuya arc / jjk s2 spoilers, death, grief, depression, suicidal thoughts, references to disordered eating, implied satosugu, platonic gojo x reader, anger, angst, gojo isn’t sealed
note: reader & gojo’s relationship for the future is up to your interpretation. title is from a mitski song <3
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The world was bleak outside your window.
With November came the death of all things beautiful. The trees grew barren, flowers wilted into dreary puddles, the sky turned a muddy shade of grey, and your house transformed into a tomb.
It was almost evening now. The streets were busy with people commuting home from work, children skipping along sidewalks after a tedious day at school. Each expression became the epitome of human nature, and through all their ups and downs, there they stood, alive.
You blinked at the scene, just enough to wet your eyes, trying to ignore the spiteful hatred that bubbled up in you against cheerful strangers.
When the women had a smile on their faces, your mind easily morphed them into miserable frowns, weaved a story of how their partners treated them terribly. Children’s loud giggles turned into wretched cries, sobs from spoiled complaints of not getting their way. Men’s casual conversations on their cell phones became a long-winded rant of how their job was slowly destroying them.
There wasn’t anything left for you in the world but misery. It should only be fair that other people received the same.
Perhaps that was an evil thought, but you didn’t care. The bed was cold, and it had started to smell of something awful from the sheets that housed your own grime and sweat. You shivered, bundling yourself up in the blankets more.
An ache increased in your stomach before it grumbled, breaking the silence. Though, it suppressed its own pleas, knowing better than to suspect sustenance after so many evenings of emptiness. Over and over, you ignored your hunger, a part of you hoping that your body would begin to devour itself from the inside out.
Perhaps, then, you’d finally achieve the peace that you’d been longing for.
From the world inside your mind, Kento scolded you, begged you to pull yourself out of the darkness that you’d crawled into. He’d be unhappy, that much was certain. One look at your unkempt hair would put a crease between his eyebrows. He’d recoil at the piled trash that you’d been too exhausted to take out.
Still, you knew better than to believe he’d be anything but kind about it. Stern, maybe, but uncompromising words would never leave his lips without soft eyes and a sad smile.
You swallowed down the nausea that erupted from within you, and buried yourself deeper into the pillow, wishing the couple in the distance would cease their affectionate embrace.
A tear collected on your lash line.
For a moment, you let yourself fall into the painful peace of delusion. A phantom touch rested on your skin, comforting fingertips dancing along your hip. Kento Nanami’s love pressed into every subtle graze. Please. Let me help you.
His voice was raspy, unfamiliar, and you wondered if you were starting to forget the sound of it, the exact inflection of his words, even though you listened to his painfully short inbox message every day, replayed the voicemails he left you more often than music.
A dry sob forced its way up, though no sound released as you squeezed Kento’s pillow tighter, digging your nose into the cotton. You were desperate for his lingering scent, but it had been two weeks since he’d been killed, and there was nothing left of him.
Still, you sprayed his old cologne on every surface, left everything as he had, and pretended that he was still around.
Grief hugged you tight, trying to embody the embrace that Kento had once given you. You didn’t hear the knock at your front door, muffled from two rooms away and the constant swirl of your heartbroken musings.
No one had visited you in two weeks. Itadori had tried, but you’d screamed far too cruelly at him, even though he was just a kid, and none of this was his fault. The list of guests had been shortened since then.
You didn’t blame them.
Someone said your name, though it was distant, and it was easy to chalk it up to your imagination. Though, the plea became a whisper through a grisly storm, then a scream over the fierce winds in an attempt to reach you.
You opened your eyes, shifting to face the noise. 
Satoru Gojo stood at the edge of your bed, his large frame towering over you with every ounce of power he’d been born with, his slack jaw unable to hide his horror at the mess you’d made of yourself. Blindfolded eyes flicked across the room, then, his lips curled into a grimace.
“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” he said. Another sound but your own breath was so unnatural in the stale room. It took you far too long to understand him.  
You blinked back once, before rolling over to return your attention to the window once more, the scene beyond it still playing like a television series. Kento had always hated that your bedroom had a view of the city, some illusion of privacy gone now that he could see the world outside. Though, it was the only thing you could be grateful for now, as that square panel of glass became your salvation.  
“Sorry.” Your voice was hoarse, raspy. You weren’t sure when you’d used it last. “Phone’s dead.” It had been for days. The slender device rested useless on your nightstand, and you wondered how many people had died since Kento; jujutsu sorcerers didn’t stop fighting just because you had.
Gojo shuffled around the room. You peered over your shoulder to see him sliding the charger into your phone, the screen lighting up later with a bright logo and a ding.
“Everyone’s been calling.” His back was to you, muscles taut with exhaustion and strain. “There aren’t enough sorcerers. We’ve lost so many people.”
You tensed and considered blocking your ears, humming a song like a petulant child. No part of you wanted to hear about Jujutsu. Satoru Gojo could manage on his own, and you didn’t give a damn about saving the world anymore.
“I can’t help you,” you said, realizing just how true that was. There wasn’t an ounce of energy within your body.
Though you had let yourself rot, you had grand plans of finding a curse you could never defeat. You would never be strong enough in your current state, and that was alright. You just wanted to go out with some semblance of a purpose, as Kento had. Maybe that way, it wouldn’t feel so much like a suicide.
“I know,” Gojo sighed, and you waited a minute before he spoke again. “That’s not why I came.”
You breathed; the process was no longer subconscious. “Then why are you here?”
Gojo came around the bed to stand in front of you once more, so close that he blocked your view of the window. His icy irises had been revealed, somehow warning you just how serious he was about this intervention.
The laugh you couldn’t muster up came out in a shaky exhale. You weren’t scared of Gojo, and you certainly weren’t impressed by him enough to listen to whatever wisdom he wanted to bestow upon you.
“I just want to help my old friend.” A twinge of pity in his voice irritated you, even though it was warranted. The scene before him couldn’t evoke any sort of emotion except for pathetic despair. “Is that so hard to believe?”
“No.” Your muscles were weak as you maneuvered your shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I just don’t care. Not even Satoru Gojo can fix everything. I thought you’ve learned that by now.” It was cruel, you knew that, but you spat the words without regret, rolling onto your back.
The stiffness in your hips alleviated, and finally, he couldn’t pin you with his gaze. You could only imagine the way he’d flinched at your comment, wondering when the shy, sweet girl from his youth had become such a bitter woman.  
Your eyes glued to the ceiling, and you imagined Kento there beside you, staring at you with a wistful smile while you merely blinked up at the white walls.
Gojo said your name again. Then he was tugging on your arm, and the clench around your heart unfurled, bringing you away from the desperate fantasy.
“Look at me,” Gojo said, and his words were harsher, exasperated, and you realized he’d been talking this entire time, minutes of one-sided conversation flowing in one ear and out the other.
“No, Satoru,” you growled, trying to resist, even though you didn’t have the strength. He pulled you to a seated position easily, forcing you to look at him once more, and never let go of your wrist. “Get out of my house.”
“Not until you talk to me.”
“Get out.”
“No.” Satoru stared at you, his eyes cold and unflinching, and for a moment, you realized just how fearsome he could be, why so many curses looked him in the eye and remembered that they didn’t stand a chance. Then, he blinked, and that image was gone, left with the picture of a broken man who had lost too many friends, and was trying not to lose you too. “You won’t talk to anyone; you won’t see anyone. You’re destroying yourself like this. I won’t let it go on any longer.”
The sympathy and disappointment in his voice disgusted you, and you recoiled with a renewed strength, slapping his hand away. “I don’t care if you want to be a hero now. You couldn’t help Kento, and you can’t help me. What good is being the strongest if you can’t even save the people that you care about?”
Gojo tensed, his jaw clenching like you’d slapped him across the face. That, at least, gave you some sort of satisfaction, even if it only lasted for a moment. A twinge of regret started, burning brighter and brighter until the weight of your comment came down on you.
There was a point to being angry at the world, to projecting your suffering onto strangers. They would never bear witness to every ounce of your misery. But Gojo had known you since you were a child, had cared about Kento too, and you were treating him no better than the curses that had killed the man you loved.
“Fine,” Gojo said more tersely. “I can’t help you. You have to want to help yourself, too.” He raked a hand across his face, revealing dark, purple circles, and sallow skin. The two of you were an ugly picture—the perfect personification of every struggle a jujutsu sorcerer could experience. “I just thought you’d want to know you still have a friend. Nanami and Haibara may be gone, and…” He looked away, mouth pulling down further. “Suguru, but I’m still here, you know?”
You swallowed, even though your lips were too parched to produce any saliva. They were cottony and stuck together as you spoke. “Don’t come back here, Gojo.” Though you swayed, lightheaded, you didn’t lay back down, only curled your knees into your chest, feeling small. “I don’t want to be a sorcerer anymore. I don’t want to remember any of it.”
Gojo hesitated, disappointed that his previous comment hadn’t hit as hard as he’d intended.
“What will you do, then?” he asked, his hands helplessly dangling by his side before he moved to sit beside you.
“Nothing.” The word felt like a punishment to say, even when that’s all you’d been doing, for days. Your life meant nothing anymore, so there was no point in trying. “I’ll forget I ever loved Kento Nanami and then I’ll disappear.”
Gojo’s face turned, his eyes narrowing, lips curling down. “No, you won’t.”
You almost came back with a childish retort—but it no longer seemed worth it. You turned back towards the window, wondering if it would rain soon. The sky looked like it might.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re the only person still alive who knew Nanami exactly as he was. There are people out there who cared enough about the both of you to not let you throw that all away.”
Guilt gnawed at you. Kento may not have ever respected Gojo for his decisions as a sorcerer, but deep down, he’d always known that he was a good man who tried to do right by everyone.
“What am I supposed to do, then?” you said, quietly at first, swallowing back the heavy emotions that weighed on you. Satoru watched you, never interrupting, though your pause was long and burdened. “I just want it to stop. It hurts so much, Satoru.”
“I know.”
“Everyone moved on like Shibuya never happened.” You twirled the ring around your finger as the heavy tears returned, ones that you’d thought had long been expelled. It seemed impossible that someone should be able to cry without end, yet, your grief was unrelenting, and your cheeks grew wet once more. “Everyone kept going, and I can’t do that. I can’t pretend like I didn’t lose my entire future. I’m never going to get married, Satoru. I’ll never be able to—”
You stopped, choked by your own emotions as a lump rose in your throat, sour like bile. It was the first time you’d said the words out loud. They tasted worse than they felt in your mind. You’d never be able to call Kento Nanami your husband.
Gojo’s eyes softened, and though he reached for you, you flinched away, swallowing over and over to bury your tears. Heaving breaths came, unsteady.
“Nanami wouldn’t want this for you.” It was cruel, too close to mockery to make you feel anything but anger.
You already knew that you were disappointing the man who loved you with every fiber of his being. The sight of you so weakened would wreck Kento, but you couldn’t get yourself to move out of the house. Not even when your skin yearned for a ray of sunlight, or your body screamed for something other than the stale convenience store snacks.
“Don’t say that. Kento’s not here anymore.” His name came out choked on your lips, the first time you’d said it since screaming it in misery. The word didn’t feel so much like love anymore. It was sorrow, wrapped into two tiny syllables. “What he’d want doesn’t matter.”
Satoru lowered his voice, treating you as fragile as you’d become, uncertain how to speak to someone who would never want to listen. “It does matter. He loved you so much.”
You covered your ears, squeezed your eyes shut. “Satoru, please. Stop it.”
“He’d want you to be happy—”
“I don’t care.” You spoke over his ramblings and pushed him away until you were certain he’d fall off the bed. Though, it did nothing to move him, strong and steadfast Satoru Gojo who would never be toppled. “You just don’t understand. I replay it over and over in my head, wondering why I wasn’t there, why you weren’t there.” You dropped your head in your hands, breathing into your palms like a paper bag. “It’s not fair.”
“Nothing’s fair.” Satoru said, the age-old cliché, a hand hesitant on your wrist. He was quiet when he said your name again. “I know how you feel.”
“No you don’t.” You slapped him away, even when he held strong, even when he let you see the anguish he usually hid away, let it erase the warmth from his expression.
You remembered dark long hair, kind brown eyes, a young man who had once held such a promising future. Two best friends that perhaps had been more, never sharing the secrets of their ill-fated bond.
“No, you don’t.”
Gojo was scooting closer, pulling you into his arms, the embrace tight, protective.
He was serious and sullen in a way that you hadn’t seen since Geto died. Gojo was a master at veiling his emotions in laughter, but it seemed now that your own emptiness was reflected back at you, the sheer desire to stop existing all at once.
“I know it better than anyone.” Nothing more than a whisper. The tears were too heavy and hot; there was nothing you could do to stop them. “You’re not alone.”
You were quiet for a moment, then another, before everything that you’d been feeling for the past two weeks crashed upon you like a wave, drowning you, and you were unable to breathe, clinging to Gojo like he was the only thing holding you above water.
You’d known Kento for ten years. You’d been strangers, friends, lovers parted by death before either of you had turned thirty, and though you weren’t the only person who had lost someone in Shibuya, you felt like the only one who was too weak to recover from it.
“Satoru.” Your voice broke. “I don’t know how to live without him.”
Gojo smiled. “You find a way.” Said so confidently, a man who’d been through it all before, and your heart shattered with sobs that came out uncontrollably, soaking Satoru’s shoulder.
Desperately, you clawed at his back, wishing you could wear his skin as a protective shield, could tear his heart out of his chest and trade it for your own, if only to gain an ounce of his strength. He held you tight in his arms, but nothing about him was the same, right down to the very blue eyes that had lost all their arrogance. Both had dimmed, and even the infinity within them seemed to end.
He didn’t smell like Kento, didn’t feel like Kento—but no one else had comforted you since he’d died, so you let him. Satoru kissed your forehead with an affection you’d already forgotten, reminding you to move on.
You never would.
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germiyahu · 2 months
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That "racism of low expectations" point can be applied to more than Westerners patting their little Jihad Meow Meows on the head by the way. I think it also applies to American Jews, usually assimilated, acting like Israel is this Entity and not a country made up of mostly Middle Eastern Jews, people. When they do acknowledge that Israelis are people who aren't just acting in the interests of an all powerful governmental animus, they act like all Israelis are bloodthirsty frat bro soldiers wreaking havoc in Gaza because they think it's fun.
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Because what is this? This tweet was in response to the chaotic backlash against Jonathan Glazer, who espoused a nearly identical sentiment. That sentiment being: Israel is using our Jewishness for some nefarious political purpose. It's not fair! We didn't sign off on GENOCIDE! How dare they use us to do this!
Israeli Jews are seen too unenlightened, too religious, too much of an embarrassment, to much of Diaspora Jewry. And yet at the same time their Jewishness is not even considered to be part of the political calculus of Israel at all? These not in my name types truly think Israel is a shadowy cabal of like 20 old white men (ironic) getting off on destroying lives and using as shields these poor innocent Americans and Brits, famously two peoples who've never twisted or corrupted the legacy of the Holocaust before.
They obviously have very hurt feelings that Israeli Jews dare to be Jews, to invoke their own Jewishness, Jewish values, to justify military action. They're not even really doing that? They want the hostages back. That is the primary concern if you poll Israeli citizens right now. And that's been the case pretty much every day since the pogrom. That's it. That's why they're saying Never Again. If that offends you as a Jewish person really let that steep. Really sit with your emotional reaction to Jews having a trauma reaction to traumatizing events and relating other events of Jewish trauma throughout history to that event. Ask yourself if it's appropriate to insinuate that they're using their Jewishness, sorry just YOUR Jewishness apparently, to make you look bad?
Israeli politicians have invoked the Holocaust outright, as a comparison. Because clearly the country whose "white" population is mostly made up of the descendants of Holocaust refugees has no business doing that? That's an affront to your name and your values?Again, why do you think everything is about you? Why do you think everything Israel does is even in your name in the first place? Is it American Brainrot Disease again?
You think Israeli Jews are so incapable of rationality and of yearning for social justice (they just want their family members back) that you erase them from the conversation. Israeli leftists are not real and are not working with Palestinians as we speak, and certainly aren't advocating for a ceasefire more successfully than anyone on this continent! Israeli politicians who speak to their constituents and use the shared cultural language of being Jews are trying to brainwash and influence Americans, because they have no constituents. Israel is just a bunch of racist politicians and a mercenary army that's trained to kill children specifically.
Like this is getting so annoying. It's clear they wish they could just excommunicate all Israelis, because they're Bad Jews. They want to take away their Jewish card, because that's not what Real Judaism stands for! And then they get offended when non secular Jews around the world dare question their Jewish identities in response to this behavior. Which I'm not condoning for the record, but how about you practice what you preach for once?
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avoxrising · 4 months
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The Feral One • Ch 28
Finnick x Y/N
Series Masterlist Link
This may be the last chapter for a few days as we’re approaching the end of the story rapidly and I haven’t finished editing it yet lol. I apologize for leaving it off with a cliffhanger but I want to make sure the end is perfect before posting it. Life’s been busy this week so I haven’t had the time to finish it the way I want to.
Content Warnings - Injury, death, medical issues, I promise Finnick isn’t being stupid this time lol
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The next week was full of recovery. You slowly regained your strength and were able to try solid foods again. The doctors polished all your scars off, including the one on your face from your games, at your request. You wanted nothing left to remind you of them.
You started physical therapy, as well as regular sessions with Dr. Aurelius. He allowed Finnick to join you, realizing you felt more comfortable with him nearby. You still had to use a walker to get around, but you were making progress.
A few weeks after the war ended, Coin called all the victors into a meeting. There were barely any left, mostly due to the war.
“I’ve called you all here for a very symbolic vote,” she states. You don’t like where this is going.
She proceeds to pitch her idea for a hunger games featuring capital children. There are mixed reactions from the remaining victors, with some believing the idea to be fair and others believing it to be cruel. Votes are cast around the room and it finally comes down to Katniss.
“I get to kill Snow,” she tells Coin, who agrees to this proposition.
“Then I vote yes,” she states. “For Prim.”
You can’t even process what this means. Another games? Was Coin out of her mind? You finally realized what you had been denying all along, as long as Coin was in charge, you would never be free.
Finnick brings you back to your shared room after the meeting. You allow his touch but still flinch away at everyone else. Dr. Aurelius had been working with you on that but it’s hard to undo the trauma of many years.
“I just want to go home,” you tell him.
“You have to stay here for a bit,” he explains. “District 4 doesn’t have the resources for your treatment. Once you are better I promise you can go back to 4.”
“What about you?” you ask him. “Are you staying?”
He hesitantly shakes his head.
“I have to go to 4 for a few weeks but I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he states. “Johanna will be here with you in the meantime and I’ll call every day.”
“You’re leaving?” you ask, dumbfounded by his response.
“I promise it’s for a good reason,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t important.”
“When do you leave?” you ask.
“In two weeks,” he responds. “I’ll be here for the first bit of your treatment and return before it’s over. Then we will both go back to 4 together. Do you trust me?”
“Always”
That afternoon Finnick helps you walk out onto the avenue to stand next to the other victors. Snow was finally falling, and you were both alive to witness it.
Standing in front of all the capital people made you uneasy. What did they think of you? Were they going to hurt you?
You’re lost in your thoughts when suddenly the crowd erupts into chaos. You look up to see Coin lying dead on the podium, an arrow in her heart. A mob of people begins rushing towards Snow, eager to kill him.
Finnick quickly scoops you up and carries you away from the commotion. When he finally sets you down, you ask what happened.
“Katniss killed Coin,” he states. “Snow is dead.”
He has to take you back to your room before you have a breakdown. What evil creature was going to seize power of Panem next? All of this was too much.
You end up collapsing on the floor of your room, shaking uncontrollably.
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cosmerelists · 11 months
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The Rules of the Cosmere
And by “rules,” I mean tropes that crop up repeatedly in Sanderson’s books, that one could consider “rules” in a nonserious, please-don’t-take-this-too-seriously type way. 
Spoilers for pretty much all of the Cosmere!
1. Don’t feed the children
As seen in: Elantris, Oathbringer, Warbreaker
If you see a hungry, homeless child in a Sanderson book and you’re tempted to, say, give them food--don’t! Raoden tried that. And the poor child was horribly mangled by the men who wanted that food. Shallan tried it. And it turned out the child was being coerced into accepting the food by gang leaders--who ended up killing the child. Vivenna didn’t exactly feed them willingly, but the urchins did, like, beat her and steal her food while she was living on the street. So that wasn’t great.
Exception that proves the rule: Stump. She fed lots of orphaned children, and she was only almost killed. So the message is: if you want to feed the children, have a Lift around to protect you.
2. Once Marriage is On The Table, Breakups Don’t Really Happen
As seen in: Mistborn Era 1, Mistborn Era 2, Stormlight Achives, Elantris, Warbreaker
Once characters get to the point of marriage, be they engaged or in an arranged marriage or just solidly A Thing, it is rare for them to break up. Sometimes a breakup is floated--like when Adolin told Shallan she could go ahead and leave him for Kaladin or when there was Wax/Steris tension or when Zane tried to break up Vin and Elend--but in the end, the original relationship tends to hold strong. Siri and Susebron were married before they had even met, but they ended up happy together. Even “death” couldn’t stop Sarene and Raoden’s engagement--Sarene did try to marry someone else, to be fair, but that second marriage did not actually happen and the original marriage reigned supreme.
Exception that proves the rule: Elend’s first engagement did not work out. Vin killed the fiancée. So it is slightly riskier to be engaged if you’re not a viewpoint character, if you’re secretly evil...or if you’re in Vin’s way.
Although...did Elend and Shan actually break up, or was their engagement only canceled by Shan’s death? I guess either way, it didn’t work out!
3. Your enemy will save you...if the sexual tension is high enough
As seen in: Elantris, Rhythm of War
Perhaps appearing in two books isn’t quite enough to call this a rule...but if I had a nickel, etc. Hrathen was Sarene’s enemy...but in the end, he kinda fell for her and ended up killing himself to save her. And in a strangely similar manner, Raboniel used her dying moments to save Navani...after Navani was the one to kill her. Then there’s Lewshi and Kaladin--neither sacrificed themselves to save the other, thank goodness, but Lewshi does help save Kaladin and/or his men on several occasions and their romantic tension is off the charts.
Exception that proves the rule: Even sexual tension doesn’t seem to be enough for Moash to not try to drive Kaladin to suicide. 
4. Your fave is (accidentally) queer
As seen in: Stormlight Archive, Mistborn
Sanderson has a tendency to write characters that he innocently believes to be straight...until readers point out how incredibly not-straight they are. Take Shallan, who is as bi as the day is long--which Sanderson admitted, I believe, once it was pointed out to him. Veil is canonically into women, at any rate. And Sanderson has said that both Shallan & Adolin would be open to adding Kaladin as a third, so Adolin is presumably bi as well, to no one’s surprise. Many readers--me included--read Kaladin as some flavor of ace, although again, that seems to be unintentional, canonically speaking. There’s also Lewshi, a woman inhabiting a male body, whose transness is not really talked about as such but is very present. And in Mistborn, there’s Wayne and his gender-fluid SO MeLaan, a queer relationship that I don’t think is ever really identified as such. 
And yes, there are also canonical queer characters in actual queer relationships, but so many more seem to be accidentally queer.
Exception that proves the rule: Sanderson insists that Moash is canonically straight...somehow.
5. Don’t trust the underling priest!
As seen in: Way of Kings, Warbreaker, Elantris
If there are suspicious things going on, look no further than your nearest, seemingly loyal underling priest. In Way of Kings it was Kabsal, who turned out to be an assassin. In Warbreaker, the seemingly helpful and awkward Bluefingers tried to sacrifice Siri on an altar. And in Elantris, while Hrathen never exactly trusted Dilaf, he did believe that he had him handled...which turned out to be a mistake, and Dilaf ended up being one of the big bads. The big bad? It’s been a while since I read Elantris.
Exception that prove the rule: Kadash seems like a good dude. I will be genuinely shocked if he tries to, like, murder Dalinar or something.
6. Hoid is there
As seen in: All of them.
Hoid has a supernatural ability to be present at all important moments in the Cosmere, so he can expect to find him in whatever book you’re reading. If there actually are Cosmere Rules, this would have to be one of them.
Exception that proves the rule: I don’t think he’s in all of the Arcanum Unbounded stories--like Shadow for Silence or Sixth of Dusk. So maybe if your story is short enough, you can escape Hoid?
It could be the only way.
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writeforfandoms · 2 months
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Island 3
Find the series masterlist
You do your level best to make sure these four can survive the Island, if anything were to happen to you. Things don't always work out as planned.
Warnings: Violence, dinos, most everything is trying to kill people, dinos are hungry and people look tasty I guess, swearing, injury.
Word count: 2.1k
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The next days passed quietly. No drops in sight. No attacks. 
Just teaching. 
You took the group of them out to gather berries and plant fibers. You showed them how to weave baskets to the best of your ability - you were far from an expert, after all. 
You took them hunting again, a skill they already had mastered. But you made sure they all practiced getting cuts of meat. 
You made them all help you with cooking, too. Cooking was an essential skill, one they would need. 
Just in case. 
You weren't surprised when Price brought up taming again. 
“Taming.” He stood in front of you, arms crossed, head tipped to look down at you. 
You huffed in soft amusement. “It is week two,” you agreed. “Alright. I assume you want the hands on version.” 
That got you interested looks, Soap and Gaz lifting their heads and looking at you with blatant curiosity. 
“Right, okay.” You couldn't help but smile, amused. “Grab your weapons, I'll get Bessie.” 
It didn't take long before the group of you were headed down towards the beach. The hyaenadon had insisted on coming, and trotted happily between you and Gaz. 
“Think we could find another one like her?” Gaz motioned down at the hyaenadon. 
You shrugged. “They're around, though not so far down as the beach,” you mused. “But they're hard to start taming, you have to sneak up on them.” 
“Probably don't have ghillie laying about,” Gaz guessed with a little grin. 
“Funny you should mention that, actually.” Your lips twisted in a complicated mix of emotions. 
“What, really?” Gaz turned wide eyes on you. 
You shrugged, fingers twitching restlessly at your sides. “I have a set that more or less fits me, and two more sets. Plus some bits and pieces. It's one of the things that can be found in the drops.” 
Gaz nodded slowly. “I'd like to see that, and what else you have,” he said. “Later.” 
“Later,” you agreed, pausing at the tree line just at the edge of the shore. “Right. Who's volunteering to try this?” 
There was a moment of silence as the men all looked at you, clearly unwilling to volunteer to be the first. Until Price huffed and stepped forward. 
You nodded. “Right, good. Pick a dino. Anything you can see around here will be an easy tame.” 
Price turned a slow circle, taking in the beach, the various creatures walking around, and the sight of his men all huddled together like school children. He huffed. “What are the advantages to each?” 
You couldn't help your little smile at that. “Don't bother with dodos, they're not good for much but food. Trikes are good defenders and they can carry a lot of weight. Parasaurs can carry a fair bit too, and they're good watch towers.” You shaded your eyes to look around again, to see what else was around. “Let's see… that looks like an iguanodon, never had one before. If we can find one, gallimimus are pretty fast runners.” You shrugged, looking back to Price. 
His brow furrowed as he looked out at the iguanodon. This one was mostly green, with darker green stripes along its back and a lighter belly. Not a bad choice for a first tame. 
“That one, then.” Price looked back to you, shoulders straight and even. 
“Right.” You stood straight and looked at the other three. “I'm leaving you lot here with Bessie and the hyaenadon. Too much activity will spook the iguanodon. So I expect you lot to stay here and keep your eyes open. Yes?”
“Yes ma'am,” Gaz agreed easily, while Soap murmured an “Aye”. Ghost said nothing, but his chin dipped towards you, just enough acknowledgement that you took it as agreement. 
You grabbed the bag of berries from Bessie's saddle and handed it to Price, whistling for the two tames to stay put. The hyaenadon whined but sat next to Gaz. 
The walk towards the iguanodon was quiet, Price keeping pace with you. He stopped when you did, crouching next to you in the long grass. 
“Here, take these.” You handed him a bag of berries. “Start rolling berries towards it. You want to entice it closer until you can hand feed it.” 
Price gave you a bit of a side-eyed look but did as you instructed. The iguanodon slowly lumbered towards the two of you, eating berries along the way. You smiled, just a little.  So far, so good. 
The iguanodon stretched out its neck slowly, cautiously, until it could take a berry from Price’s hand. It was a little less shy the next time, until it didn't hesitate at all taking the berries from him. 
The look on his face was priceless, a bit shocked and a bit awed. 
The iguanodon lifted its head and lumbered away, not fast like it had been alarmed. Just like it was done eating. 
“Good,” you murmured, watching it go. “How do you feel?” 
He wiped his hand off on the grass, shrugging after a moment. “That was… interesting.” 
You laughed quietly. “Yeah, I remember. Okay. Think about it. How many more times do you think you need to feed the iguanodon?”
“Once.” He blinked after he spoke, like he hadn't quite meant to say that. 
You nodded knowingly. “See what I meant?”
He huffed, but his lips twitched in amusement. “I do see,” he agreed. “So, what now?” 
“Now we head back. Or, I suppose we could do a bit of hunting while we're out.” You stood up and stretched, working out some of the ache that had settled in your muscles while you waited. 
He stood with a little grunt, nodding for you to lead the way. 
“So? How'd it go?” Soap asked as soon as you two were close enough, clearly intensely curious. 
Leaving that one to Price, you simply rolled your eyes and tucked the bag of berries away again for now. Right. How best to divide the group of you…
“Gaz, you and I are going to gather berries. You three can hunt.” 
Gaz didn't even protest, just nodded once to you. 
By now, you trusted those three enough to not get themselves hurt while hunting, so you just whistled to the two tames and started looking for berry bushes. Gaz kept pace with you easily, glancing over at you every so often. 
“Think I could tame a hyaenadon?”
You snorted. “Sure,” you agreed with an easy shrug. “If you really want to, we'll figure it out.”
He grinned. “I'd like that.” 
You chuckled. “She is sweet,” you agreed, looking down at her. “We'll see if we can find you one to tame in a decent area.” 
“Thanks.” Gaz grabbed an empty bag and started picking berries. You stopped at the next bush down, focusing on not getting pricked. A soft curse from Gaz made you chuckle. 
“Thorns?” You asked, deceptively mild. 
“It was hiding,” he grouched, making you smile. 
Companionable silence fell between you as you focused on picking berries, moving around each other easily. 
“Think you'll make more of those biscuits?” Gaz couldn't quite keep the hopeful note from his voice. 
You laughed softly, shaking your head in amusement. “That fond of them, huh? Yeah, I'll make more. Although we'll need to find a supply drop soon, I'm getting low on some things.” 
“We'll find another one soon, I bet.” Gaz tied off his bag and went to get another, wandering off to find a different type of berry. You just watched him go, a little ache in your chest. 
They'd all learned fast, had taken to living here more easily than anyone else you'd seen. It was incredible, and heartening. 
Even if something happened to you, they'd be fine. 
The rest of berry gathering went quickly and quietly, and the two of you went back to see what progress the others had made with meat. 
Between you and Price, it didn't take long to get things packed up on Bessie. (Soap still eyed the dino with mistrust, but he was coming around.) Soap and Ghost took the lead, Soap chatting as they walked. Price walked next to Bessie, keeping an eye on the rear, leaving you and Gaz walking together in the middle of the group. 
Everything was fine. You didn't see any movement around you, didn't hear anything unusual. 
Soap shouted ahead of you, and a gun boomed through the relative quiet. You took off, swearing when you spotted the long body on the ground. 
“Fuck,” you hissed, skidding to a halt at Soap's side. “Did it bite you?”
“Aye,” Soap hissed, looking down at his leg. “Burns.” 
“Shit.” You dropped to your knees, leaning closer. Sure enough, blood seeped from the bite mark, punctures clear from the fangs. 
You didn't have anything for this at base. Not for a titanoboa bite. 
“Get on Bessie,” you ordered, pushing back to your feet. “Now.” 
“But–” Soap looked confused for a moment. Ghost, fortunately, didn't care, and bodily moved Soap to the trike. Price didn't ask, just helped shove the mohawked man up onto the dino. 
“We need to move.” You didn't look back at them, just started towards the base. Gaz kept pace with you, shooting worried looks towards you. But you didn't say another word the entire way back to base, too busy thinking of what needed to be done. 
This was not going to be easy. You felt like a fool for not having anything for a titanoboa bite. But you hadn't seen one for a long time, hadn't thought they came to this area… 
It was still your fault. You hadn't prepared them for all the dangers of this place. 
You hadn't been prepared for this. 
If Soap died… 
No. No, you weren't going to let that happen. 
You pulled the gate open and ushered the others in. “Get him inside,” you said, glancing at Soap, who had gone pale and sweaty already. 
“What can we do?” Price asked, even as he helped Ghost get Soap down from on top of Bessie. 
“Get everything else inside,” you answered, barely waiting for Soap to be out of the way before you started unloading bags. “Keep him cool. Do whatever you have to, but he will be running a fever.” 
“There must be something else,” Gaz pressed as he took some things from you. 
“No,” you snapped. “You all are staying here. I am getting the things I need for the antidote.” 
“One of us should go with you,” Price argued, even as he took things from you too. 
“No. I'm taking Ripper. Nothing else will keep up with him.” You pulled off one of the bags from Bessie's side, putting it aside and unloading the second bag. 
“Let us finish this,” Price ordered, coming back out with Gaz. “Do what you need to get ready.” 
You didn't bother arguing, just dropped everything and jogged over to Ripper's paddock. The raptor huffed at you, prancing in place a little. 
“I know,” you murmured. “Hold still.” It took a little longer than you liked to get his saddle on and fastened properly. It had been a while since you'd ridden Ripper. But you finished and led him out of his paddock. 
“How long will you be gone?” Gaz hovered nearby, shifting his weight as he watched you. 
“Don't know,” you admitted, glancing at him for only a moment before the guilt threatened to render you useless. “I'll be as fast as I can, I swear.” 
“Be safe.” Gaz stepped closer, taking your hand and squeezing it. “Okay? Come back safe.” 
“I'll bring back what we need,” you promised instead. It didn't matter if you were safe. Speed was more important than safety. It mattered that you saved Soap, nothing else. 
Gaz squeezed your hand again, but didn't press the issue. Instead he backed up, giving you and Ripper room. 
“Stay,” you told the hyaenadon finally, leading Ripper to the gate. “Keep him hydrated and cool,” you reiterated to Gaz. “Whatever it takes.” 
But you didn't give him time to respond. You pulled yourself up into the saddle and clicked your tongue at Ripper. Finally free to run, the raptor took off, long strides eating up distance much faster than any other tame you'd ever seen. Except maybe a horse. 
You knew where you needed to go. You knew what you needed to get. But you didn't know what you'd encounter along the way. 
Dammit. 
But you wouldn't let Soap die. Not on your watch.
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thecapybara526 · 1 year
Text
A Drop in the Ocean pt. 2
Avatar: the way of water
Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader
Note : I don’t know how to link part 1 but it shouldn’t be hard to find as this is only my second time ever posting. Please read part 1 because there has been changes made for my story to work. Thank you so much for the support on part 1!
Tag list : @whos3rn
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Part 2
After you and Neteyam talked, everyone was sent to bed. You usually slept in the Sully hut with Kiri, but after yesterday's events, you figured they might need some space. You hated sleeping in your hut, though; it was lonely with the ghosts of the life you used to have. Your parents loved each other, and their story was so cute. They didn’t have the traditional “love at first sight” kind of love. Where you see each other and you know they are the one. Although that is sweet, it’s not always realistic.
Your mother had eyes for a different Na’vi, and was not even interested in your father. Your mother pinned for this man for so long that she gave up and decided to swear off men. Your father always noticed your mother, her pretty hair, her eyes, her bow skills, and most importantly, her smile—all the traits you luckily inherited. Slowly your father started to flirt with your mother, spend time with her, and before she knew it, she was in love. She always said it snuck up on her.
You quickly got up and left before the burning in your throat and chest became tears in your eyes. Usually, Kiri, Lo’ak, and Tuk would be around in the morning while Jake, Neytiri, and Neteyam did their rounds around the clan. Today was different, though. The whole Sully family was still in their hut. You peeked inside and saw they were in deep conversation and slipped away quietly before they noticed.
Neteyam was shocked at what his father had just said to everyone. “We have to go; we must leave our home and disappear.”
Tuk started to cry, and Neteyam pulled her to him, cradling her head.
“This isn’t fair; this is our home!” Kiri cried. She was angry. Kiri looked at her mother for help, but Neytiri was staring at the ground, her face blank. She was trying to keep a brave face for her children, but inside she could feel the wounds already in her heart tearing deeper.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I have to agree with Kiri. You are Olo’eyktan. What will the people do.” Neteyam pleaded with his father. Not only that, but he was the next Olo’eyktan. The Omatikaya was his clan to protect one day, and he wasn’t going to abandon them.
“The decision has been made. This is to protect the people. This is to protect you. This family is our fortress. As long as we are together and safe, that is all that matters.” Jake stood up. He was upset and scared but couldn’t let his guard down. He had to stay strong for his kids and also Neytiri.
“And what of Y/n? Is she coming too?” Kiri asked, her eyes full of concern; she wasn’t going to leave her sister.
This made Lo’ak head snap up, he was sad about leaving, but he never felt like he truly belonged here. The thought of leaving you behind… it made his throat tighten up.
“I do not think it is fair to strip her from her home. She will make the choice herself whether or not she wants to stay.” Neytiri finally spoke. It killed her to think of you not coming, but it was only fair. She would not take you from the forest if you did not want to leave.
When Lo’ak heard his mother's words, panic set in. What if you didn’t come with them? What if you stayed and he never saw you again? What if you forgot about him? Or worse, found someone else to be with.
Neteyam was just as troubled; after yesterday, maybe you wanted no part of this life. Running from the Sky people, constantly being in danger from his fathers past. You didn’t have to suffer the same fate as them.
Kiri and Tuk immediately left to find you; they couldn’t just stand there lost in thought like their brothers panicking. By the time they found it was too late. Jake and Neytiri had sat you down and started to talk to you. Neteyam and Lo’ak caught up to Kiri and Tuk, planning to convince you to come.
Kiri noticed the panic and worry on Lo’ak and Neteyam’s faces. They were both scared, scared to lose you. Their faces started to crumble when you started crying and hugging their parents. Did this mean goodbye? Lo’ak couldn’t take the pain in his chest and walked away, refusing to watch. While Neteyam stood watching, begging from afar that you would come with them.
You sat there for a good five seconds trying to process what Neytiri and Jake just said to you.
“I know this is hard, but we want what’s best for you. You don’t have to leave your home because of us.” Jake said, placing a hand on your shoulder
Tears started to flow down your face. It wasn’t because you were devastated to leave the forest. Of course, you were sad, but the forest reminds you so much of the life you had with your parents. The thought of losing the Sullys and not going with them upsets you.
“No, no, please, please take me with you. I’ll be good. I’ll do my part for the family. Please don’t leave me behind!” you hugged both Neytiri and Jake. You loved Jake and Neytiri. They took you and treated you like their own. Neytiri was the last link you had to your mother, and losing her would kill you.
“Y/n, of course, we would not leave you.” Neytiri took your face in her hands. “We are simply giving you the option. Is this what you want?”
You calmed down a bit, realizing they weren’t telling you they were leaving you, but they were offering you to come with them. You started to smile; they cared about you as much as you cared for them. Jake and your father were so much alike, protective and caring but also tough. Neytiri was just as fierce and strong as your mother but also sweet.
Not only that but Kiri, Tuk, Neteyam, and Lo’ak. You couldn’t imagine a life without them.
“There is nothing here holding me back from leaving. Where ever the Sully family goes, I will go.”
Neytiri and Jake smiled; they were hoping you’d say yes, mainly because Neytiri wasn’t blind to how Neteyam and Lo’ak have looked at you lately. She was happy that one of her boys would potentially end up with you.
Kiri, Tuk, and Neteyam were relieved when they saw you come out of the hut smiling along with their parents.
“Y/n will be coming with us,” Jake announced, shaking you playfully by your arms. You laughed and wiped away the lingering tears.
Tik and Kiri immediately ran up to you, engulfing you in a hug.
“Thank you, great mother!” Kiri exclaimed, you laughed and caressed Tuk’s little head. “I’m so happy you’re coming with us Y/n” Tuk buried her head into your side.
“Me too, I couldn’t leave my sisters,” you smiled. The rest of the Sullys walked to their hut to gather whatever they were bringing.
Neteyam was standing not too far away and approaching you. You could see the relief radiating off him. You were happy to see him but where was Lo’ak?
“I’m happy you are joining us.” Neteyam said with a shy smile.
“Me too, I couldn’t stay. Especially with you all leaving” you looked down suddenly nervous from him staring at you.
“I have to say..” you looked up at him again as he spoke softly. “It would have been a lot harder leaving if you would not have agreed to come,” and with a touch of your shoulder, he walked past you to his hut.
You stood there for a couple seconds after processing what he said to you. Neteyam. Neteyam. You kept repeating his name in your head. Your thoughts were abruptly stopped when you saw Lo’ak walk by in a hurry. Lo’ak. Right. Where was he, when you were talking to Jake and Neytiri.
“Hey! Lo’ak!” You called to him; you swore you could see his eyes jump to you for a second before continuing to wherever he was going. Did he just ignore you? You felt a needle pierce your heart a little. Hell no. You were about to chase after him but you heard Neytiri call you to.
This isn’t over Lo’ak. You thought to yourself.
Lo’ak had been ignoring you all day. Anytime you tried to talk to him, he brushed you off. At first angry, but now you were just sad and frustrated. Why was he upset with you? Was he mad you didn’t stay and take the heat with him from his parents for putting everyone in danger yesterday? Whatever it was, he couldn’t even look you in the eye.
Neteyam and Kiri noticed Lo’ak suddenly distancing himself from you. It was weird the trio was not attached to the hip. Y/n had been with Kiri all day, and when she asked you about Lo’ak, all you did was shrug your shoulders.
It was starting to piss Neteyam off. He didn’t like seeing you upset; when he talked to you, you were friendly but very uninterested in the conversation, like something else was on your mind.
Before dinner, he grabbed Lo’ak’s arm. “I advise you to talk to Y/n and fix whatever happened,” he said sternly to his brother.
Lo’ak shrugged him off, “what are you talking about? Nothing happened.” He scoffed.
“Y/n’s been upset all day. Fix it.” Neteyam gave his brother a look and walked to dinner, leaving Lo’ak with his thoughts. He didn’t realize he was upsetting you. He couldn’t stand the pain he felt when he looked at you, knowing he was leaving you. Then he started to get annoyed. Why was Neteyam so worried about you being upset?
At dinner, Lo’ak kept stealing glances at you, hoping you would look at him. But you kept your eyes trained down at your food or next to you to talk to Tuk and Kiri. If Lo’ak wanted to ignore you, you could ignore him better. Neteyam noticed the looks Lo’ak was giving you. His tail flicked side to side on the ground in annoyance. Lo’ak was such a skxawng , he thought. Your head tilted up when you heard a smack on the ground. Neytiri held Neteyam’s tail down, “stop,” she hissed and ran her hand down his tail. You laughed and looked up at him and Neytiri. He was already staring at you. He gave you a small smile and kept eating.
Without meaning to, your eyes shift to Neytiri's left, catching Lo’ak’s eyes. His eyebrows shot up, excited you finally looked at him. He tilted his head to the exit, eyes widening a little bit for a moment. So now he wants to talk.
You took a deep breath and excused yourself. Not long after, Lo’ak followed. Kiri looked at Neteyam, giving him a look. Neteyam shook his head, meaning give them space. However, he didn’t like the thought of you and Lo’ak alone. He knew you two needed to talk.
Lo’ak led you towards the forest. It was dark, so he didn’t take you far. He climbed up one of the trees the two of you frequently visited together, and he sat down, legs hanging off a branch. You sat next to him.
“Well?” You questioned after a couple of minutes of silence.
He took a deep breath. “I-I’m not mad at you.” He was still looking straight ahead.
“Okay, so why are you ignoring me?” You didn’t understand.
“Y/n.” He turned to look at you, “please don’t stay; I know it’s not fair for me to ask. But please come with us.”
Your eyes widened—what a skxawng. You started to laugh a little, covering your mouth. Lo’ak’ turned away from you, embarrassed. Why were you laughing at him.
You grabbed his chin, turning his face back to look at you. “I’m coming with you, Lo’ak.” You smiled at him.
A grin broke out on his face “wait, what? But I saw you crying and -“ you cut him off.
“If you had just asked me instead of ignoring me, you would know that at the end of that conversation, I decided to leave with you guys.” You dropped your hand from his chin, but he caught it. Your breath got caught in your throat. Finally, noticing you were sitting close to each other, thighs brushing together, his beautiful eyes looking at you tenderly. Your face burned.
“I'm sorry, okay? I’m sorry for ignoring and upsetting you. But I’m so happy that you are coming with us.” He spoke looking down at your two hands together.
There had been so many small moments between you and Lo’ak your entire life. Helping each other when you first learned to fly your ikrans, little touches of hands or stealing glances at each other during dinner.
Your heart beamed. You liked Lo’ak since you were little, but we’re sure if he felt the same way. Sometimes he treated you like Kiri, like when you almost fell off a tree branch and Neteyam caught you. He just laughed and told you to keep up. He would also sometimes flirt with girls around your age. While other times he treated you differently, like now. It made your head spin.
“Let’s head back before we get in trouble.” He kept your hand and helped you up.
“Yea..I think we’ve been in enough trouble lately” you smiled, and the two of you walked back to camp. You were on cloud nine until he dropped your hand when the two of you arrived back.
Neytiri approached the two of you, placing her hand on your heads.
“Head to bed. We are leaving early tomorrow.”
You nodded and looked back at Lo’ak, but he was already walking behind his mother, back to their hut.
You stayed in your hut that night. It was possibly the last time you would sleep in it. You lay down, and right before you fell asleep, you heard a noise. You turned to the opening and see Neteyam.
You sat up, “what’s wrong?” It was late, why was he here.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to check in on you” he smiled, and you felt your body relax. You motioned him to sit down next to you.
“Uh, I’m fine. A little sad but at the same time excited.” Rubbing the back of your neck, he was sitting right in front of you. He always looked at you so intently while you talked. As of he didn’t want to miss a word you said.
“I’m excited, too; I can’t help but feel sad. I hate that we’re leaving.” He looked down between his legs.
“Of course, Neteyam. This is your home. Your clan, you were going to be Olo’eyktan one day. Whose knows, we could come back and the clan would absolutely choose your father to be Olo’eyktan again.”
He looked up at you and smiled. “thank you, but I came in to comfort you.” He laughed and bumped your shoulder.
“Well, lucky for you, I’m fine. I’m more than happy to comfort you.” You tilted your head at him and smiled widely. Your cheeks burned a little.
Neteyam had to look down because of how you were looking at him at that moment would make him spill out everything he’s wanted to say to you since you were 14.
“Okay, well. I’ll let you get some rest. Goodnight Y/n” you wished him a goodnight as he left.
You laid back down, and you couldn’t stop the smile that was creeping onto your face.
Okay! That’s all for today. I want to update everyday, as of right now. Please let me know if you want shorter chapters or if there are typos. Also does anyone know why it says “replies are turned off” and how do I turn them on.
I hope you enjoyed and please let me know if you enjoyed or want me to continue! (PART 3 IS UP)
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slickfordain · 1 year
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Your work is awesome!!
I'll read everything else rq, but first-
Hello, how was your day? How are you feeling?
If it's okay, may I share a bit of my game and ask how will characters react on it?
So uhh
I always say out loud how adorable Nahida is and how she is my "adopted child"
Also during the archon quest I was litteraly chanting "someone help, love and protect her please"
Also when I didn't get Nahida on her banner, I was like "Sages, if it was You, I'm about to destroy you"
I also always greet my team and say "bye" if I'm leaving.
I switch to every character and tell them it. Even how THEY did while I was gone
Maybe I'm going insane Idk?
If you don't want to do it, it's okay!^^
Bye-bye! And again- your work(s) are awesome! Gotta read some more
I may sound insane but I as well say “Hello / hi” to Genshin characters one time because I wanted them to feel welcomed??? I’m kind of new to this shit so I stole my friend’s phone to say hi to them 💀💀 this is such a cute request overall, Nahida is such a baby 💔💔
Also I’m doing just well hon, thank you for asking me. <3 I hope you’re feeling well yourself.
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Teyvat is protective of their creator no matter what gender they’re specified with;; however, it seems that you favor Nahida more than others— Most likely as if you made her to actually be your related child. Nahida was hesitant and shy at first, but over the time when she thought about it, she couldn’t help but feel so free and blessed with such a humble God mother/father figure like you.
You’re protective, even if it’s the traveller and Paimon… You still warned them to make sure that Nahida stays secured and safe. Everyone in different nations although takes this request far too seriously- that at this point, Nahida feels rather isolated. Though she knew you never meant any harm, how could she ever assume you would? She’s a wise sweet little girl, humble as you even, she honestly could see the connection of being your child. Literally.
But, that of course makes other children jealous… NPC children would most likely have different voice lines when it comes to Nahida too— which is basically in Sumeru city, and, I guess the Archons has to be checked 24/7 all of the sudden? Confused as you are, you weren’t displeased with it, you felt… Happy actually. Happy that people are acknowledging Nahida. (Although they’re fighting over who gets to be Nahida’s other parent)
Alhaitham especially would have some rooms prepared for Nahida, like, y’know, if she’s tired in a middle of nowhere— there’ll always be a house nearby her area, her spot. The followers of you would be cooking food nonstop for the little child, hoping that she’s willing to test their taste. After all, only she knows what you love in a guy/girl ~!
Oh oh, and since you did say you want someone to also protect Nahida during a quest— Nahida will be bawling her eyes out and ugly cry. (Pretty cry actually) People will be freaking out of why the fuck is shE EVEN CRYING— The NPCs will all baby her and, treasure hoarders? They won’t even get the chance to lay a finger on her because of the Archons killing them off. (Not like you know 😻)
Nahida would be an absolute troll however. Yes, she is sweet and always devoted to drop the entire lore to help people out— (For example she dropped the entire shit lore to Aether / Lumine) But she is heavily LOYAL to her mother/father figure.
Imagine Dottore especially trying to talk it out with her since they did sort of have a conversation beforehand. So he thought it’s only fair he becomes her dad, by marrying you right? HAHAHA, wrong. Nahida is truly worried and overprotective of you, despite being just a kid version of her Archon self. She will lie, telling things to the Fatui doctor what you did not like.
And this has gone on for so long, it’s absolutely hilarious. Especially for Sumeru as they see this as an attempt to bring their divine being closer to them.
But the thing is, you’re not that expressive— you’re just existing and trying to live on while babying Nahida who just sobs into your affection. Girlie never got so much, so it was truly a blessing to have herself in your care.
And talking about Sages, just imagine Enjou overall having troubles with trying to get to you. All because of Sages 💀 look, if mans wanna get your forgiveness, better as well protect Nahida from the half monster hybrid looking ass hot man. Enjou is in so much misery… (Cue CPR)
Also, can we just appreciate how caring you are? No, it’s not only for Nahida you’re just caring for— it’s not even the reason she’s so loyal to you. (Well, it is but still) The true reason is, is because you keep saying “Hello” and “Bye” to them everyday, no matter how tiring it might get.
I think Diluc would especially love this since uhm, well, his dad ain’t here y’know y’know. (Or any traumatized character really)
Imagine Archon Timmie flying up to the heavens above just to replace Nahida and be your son— (Archon Timmie /srs) But then fails because Nahida is too logical and wise that his brain couldn’t take it anymore either.
Okay I’m stopping there 💀💀💀
Also have a sneak peak of my fanfic because I know some people will assume I’m not working on it 💔
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It looks shitty but whatever
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dearestro · 19 days
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Heyyy love your work could I request maybe a james wilson x reader where they're trying to have children but she miscarries and like maybe their keeping it a secret but of course house finds out and is all supportive and them maybe like a happy ending where they do have a child
Tears and Fears
Warnings: Miscarriages, childbirth, innuendos, crude language, and angst. I apologize if I forgot anything!
Disclaimer: I know nothing about healthcare, diseases, childbirth, miscarriages, etc. Anything I have written has been found on the internet, so I apologize if it is incorrect!
Summary: After receiving some upsetting news, the reader and James are faced with a heartbreaking situation. But at least they have each other and just maybe...House?
Wilson's Pov
"Yeah...yeah. It's alright hun...I'll talk to Cuddy and see if I can get the rest of the day off...No, I'm coming to meet you...I-I love you..." I was still talking to my wife when House came in. "I'll see you soon. Bye." I hung up and dragged my hand down my face as I sighed in frustration, desperately trying not to break down. Not again.
"What's wrong? I haven't even started talking, and you already look like you want to kill yourself." House said as he walked over to my couch. 
"Nothing." I said a little too defensively. He quirked a brow at my seemingly unwarranted anger. "Look, I've got to talk to Cuddy so I can get someone to cover me, and I can take the rest of the day off. I'll see you tomorrow." I got up and started packing my things and headed for the door before turning around and looking at House. "Lock up for me." I said before leaving. After all, with all the pranks he's pulled on me throughout the years, there's no doubt in my mind that he already has a copy of my key.
I made my way to Cuddy's office. She was doing paperwork but looked up at me and smiled when I entered. 
"Dr. Wilson. To what do I owe the pleasure?" She said before a look of distaste came over her face. "Please tell me you are not here to try and convince me to follow through with one of House's harebrained schemes." I tried to smile, but it came out more as a grimace.
"Actually, I need the rest of the day off." Her eyebrows furrowed. "It's a...family...emergency." I tried to cover up the fact I started to choke up at the word 'family' by coughing and averting my eyes. She smiled sympathetically. 
"Of course. I'll get someone to cover for you." She nodded as I started to the door. "And Wilson. I'm really sorry." I nodded and hurried to the car.
After a long and grim car ride, I finally arrived at the hospital. 
"I'm looking for my wife? Mrs. y/n Wilson." The receptionist quickly directed me to her room. It took everything in me not to run when I saw the doors to her room. Upon getting closer, I picked up my pace and rushed into the room. She jumped at the sudden movement before looking at me. Tears streamed down her face, but once I met her eyes, we both fully broke down. I quickly knelt beside her and took her in my arms. "I'm so sorry, baby." I shook my head as she pushed hers into the crook of my neck.
"I was so close!" She cried as my heart wrenched at her words. 
"I know...I know sweetheart." I whispered as I stroked her hair.
"One more week! One...more...week...and the risk would've lowered to 2-4%." She shook her head, her face still buried in my chest. "It's not fair! I thought I did everything right..."
"It's not...it's not. You did do everything right it's not your fault. It's-it's just...bad luck." I could feel her tears seep into my shirt as my own fell into her hair.
Eventually, the hospital discharged her, not before offering their condolences. I asked her if she wanted me to pick her something up on the way home, but she just shook her head and continued to stare out the window. Clearly, we both had lost our appetite for today.
Once we got home, we sat for a second before I went over to her side of the car. We made our way into the apartment, and I sat her down on the couch. I sat down next to her, and she leaned on my shoulder as I held her.
"We-we can always try again." I rubbed her arm and kissed her hair, but she shook her head.
"What's the point?" She said she sounded defeated. "It's the second one in a year...maybe-maybe I wasn’t...meant to be a mother." Her voice wavered as she held back her tears. "Maybe it's for the best. I probably would've made a terrible mom anyway." She laughed bitterly. 
"No! No. You'd be the perfect mother! You're sweet, kind, caring, nurturing..." I tried to comfort her as we both cried. "We don't have to give up. I'm-I'm willing to try as many times as possible. All the time. I'll take off work, and we'll just-just make babies all week."
"Are you sure you could handle that?" She shook her head as she laughed.
"Well...maybe give me a few minutes between tries, but..." She laughed harder, her tears temporarily stopped. I smiled hearing her giggle even if it was at my expense.
"I really thought it'd work this time..." She smiled sadly as the brief happiness wore off. "After two miscarriages...the doctor said that your chances just keep getting worse and worse with each loss." 
"I know...but we can try all kinds of things. IVF, donors, adoption..." I tried to cheer her up, give her a little hope as I kissed her temple. 
"Yeah...I just...I really wanted to carry our baby. To feel them grow and kick and..." Tears started to stream down her face again. I sighed and rested my forehead against her hair.
"I'm sorry sweetheart."
The next day, I begrudgingly went to work. Y/n insisted that she'd be ok. I tried to stay in my office for the majority of the day but was called in and out for consultations.
I finally had a free moment in my office and went to call her when House barged in.
"Good, you're here. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought you were avoiding me." I rolled my eyes and tried to focus on dialing our home phone. It finally started to dial, but just as it began to ring, House hung up the receiver with his cane.
"House!" I shouted a little too angrily.
"Wilson!" He mocked. I sighed. "What is up with you? Trouble with the Mrs?" I ignored him in favor of looking over discarded paperwork. "So it is...what fourth ex Mrs. Wilson? That's too bad. This one wasn't totally awful." He continued to ramble on. "Did you cheat on her? She cheat on you? Stop 'meeting your manly needs'?"
"Stop!" I shouted, slamming down the files, finally having enough of his taunting. "For once in your life, can you just shut up? I'm tired and I'm frustrated! And don't even ask if I mean frustrated as in sexually frustrated!" He only stared as I broke down. I rested my head on the palms of my hands as I tried to calm down. By the time I looked back up, he was gone. "Jerk." I shook my head as I redialed my wife's cell.
House's Pov
At the sight of Wilson's pathetic breakdown, I left. Something's obviously wrong. However, he'd never admit it...at least not without being all emotional and crap. I rolled my eyes just thinking about it. 
I finally made it to Cuddy's office. I walked in on what looked like a meeting with the head of trauma. 
"Cuddy!" She rolled her eyes while apologizing to the doctor before she turned to me.
"House, I'm a little busy." 
"I'll take care of this." I walked in front of the doctor. "Thanks for your sub-par service. You're fired. Bye." I turned back to Cuddy. "See? You're not busy." She scoffed before dismissing him, apparently deciding she didn't want to fight.
"Ok then, House." She folded her hands in front of her before giving me an over exaggerated and forced smile. "How can I help you?"
"Glad you're so willing." She rolled her eyes as I ignored her blatant sarcasm. "Something's wrong with Wilson." Her face dropped for a second before she quickly fixed her facade.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe you should ask him." She said as she quickly busied herself with files.
"Liar!" I whacked my cane on her desk, making her jump. "Tell me."
"It's not my business to tell, and frankly, it's none of yours either." I scoffed before heading towards the door.
"I'm taking the rest of the day off!" I said and quickly walked away before she could stop me.
Your Pov 
I had been curled up on the couch the entire day, eating comfort food and watching reruns. I had been intermittently crying throughout the day and just got off the phone with James. Even at work, he insisted on checking in on me. I got up to throw out the empty carton of ice cream when the doorbell rang.
"Coming!" I discarded the trash and quickly tried to freshen myself up by raking my fingers through my hair and swiping at the tear stains. I opened the door to be faced with the one and only..."House?" He pushed past me and let himself in. I closed the door behind him and followed. "Shouldn't you be at the hospital?" I asked as he sat down on the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table, and started scrolling through the tv channels. 
"How are you and Wilson?" I raised a brow at the question. House was never one for pleasantries. 
"Fine..." I said still suspicious of his motives.
"How's the sex?" I blushed a little at his bold question.
"Good..." He turned to me with his brows raised.
"Just good?" I rolled my eyes, becoming increasingly agitated. 
"I meant great, no spectacular!" I said sarcastically. I sighed. "What do you want House? I'm tired, and I'm frustrated." 
"Aha!" I looked at him confused. "Wilson said the exact same thing today." Oh. I sat down beside him and grabbed the bag of chips I had left on the table.
"Did...did he tell you?" I asked as I sucked on a chip, my eyes staying focused on the tv.
"Yes." I swallowed the salty snack before sighing sadly.
"I...I don't know what to do. We want a baby so bad, but...I'm not sure I can handle a third miscarriage." He sighed before putting his hand on my knee. I looked up at him, a strange, sorrowful, almost regretful look on his face.
"Well...third time's the charm." I smiled weakly at the odd but caring sentiment.
"Yeah. Third time's the charm."
It was late in the evening by the time James got home. House had left hours ago, of course not before eating us out of house and home and making me binge his favorite soap with him.
"Hey babe." He leaned down and pecked me on the lips. 
"Hi..." I said softly. He came back from putting his things away.
"Are-are you ok?" He sat next to me and held my hands. His eyes were filled with worry. 
"House stopped by." I look of shock and worry crossed his face.
"What...what did he want?" 
"He said you told him." I shook my head and laughed a little. "Told me 'third time's the charm'." I felt tears pool in my eyes.
"I'll be right back..." He kissed my hairline before suddenly standing up and storming out of the house.
Wilson's Pov 
I hated to leave her, but I was blinded by rage. House had once again meddled with our lives, and this time, I would not stand for it. 
I finally reached House's apartment building. I stormed in before finding his door and pounding on it.
"House! I know you're in there!" I continued to hit the door until he opened it.
"Hey buddy! Come in." He said cheerfully. "I assume the wife told you about my little visit."
"You had no right!" I jabbed my finger in his chest as he rolled his eyes and pulled me inside. I tried to protest, but he pushed me onto the couch with his cane.
"Sit." He then hobbled off and came back with a stack of papers. "After I left your apartment, I decided to do a little research." He slammed down the papers on the coffee table. "In these papers, you'll find the best foods, diets, sleeping and sitting positions, medications, etc. for keeping your pregnancy safe and preventing miscarriages. As well as the number of a competent OBG." I looked at him in shock.
"What?" 
"Oh! Also, here's a list of the best sex positions to use during pregnancy." He handed me a paper. "It's technically safe to do all kinds of sex as long as you don't have any diseases and your doctor doesn't tell you otherwise. Although if I were you, I'd just ask for hand and blow jobs so you don't have to do anything but still get to have that special happy ending." He shrugged as I still stared at him in shock. I quickly shook my head, knocking myself out of my trance.
"First off. I'm not doing that. Secondly, my sex life is none of your business, and thirdly...thank you...I guess?" I started to look through the papers. Some of the information we had already known but there were plenty of things we hadn't thought of. I reached the page of the OBG. "Wait. This is the top OBG in the city. And it says that an appointment is already scheduled." I looked up at him in disbelief. "We've been trying to get in with her for months. How did you-?" He cut me off.
"She owes me a favor." I furrowed my eyebrows as he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Just leave and go have hot sex with your wife." I rolled my eyes as he turned to walk towards his kitchen. "Oh, and try out position number eight on that list! Did that with a hooker once. She almost quit hooking after that, wanted to get hitched right then and there!" I sighed. He was incredibly selfish and strange but...he cared...in his own screwed up way.
I entered the apartment with the stack of papers. Everything was quiet. 
"Y/n?" I heard some shuffling before she came into view. I sighed and hugged her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left like that I was just-" She cut me off with a kiss.
"Mad?" I nodded. "When you left in such a hurry after I told you about House...well, I figured you must not have actually told him and that he had lied to me." Our foreheads pressed together. 
"Right...I'm still sorry." She stroked my cheek and smiled slightly.
"It's alright." She dragged me to the couch. "What are all those papers for?" 
"Right! House printed out all this information for us..." She took the pages and looked through them. 
"Well...these are certainly...specific." I looked over to see the paper she had was the one about the best sex positions for during pregnancy. I blushed a little as I saw the diagrams with explicit instructions. 
"That's-that was House's...idea. I figured we could just throw that page away." She laughed lightly as she continued to look through the stack.
"I don't know. They might be...fun." She continued to giggle until she suddenly stopped. "We have an appointment with Dr. Ryans?" She gasped in excitement. "How?" I smiled and shrugged as she looked towards me.
"Apparently, she owes House a favor." She quirked a brow. "I don't know why, I figured it's probably better I didn't ask." She laughed and nodded in silent agreement. 
"We should go to bed." I raised a brow and smirked.
"To bed or to bed?" She laughed and patted my cheek.
"The first one." I put on an exaggerated pout before getting up and following her.
Your Pov
It had been a few months since the second miscarriage. It was hard, but thankfully, I had James. Together, we slowly got through it.
Tonight, I sat in the bathroom. A familiar plastic stick sat on the counter. I waited with baited breath. My phone alarm went off, and I quickly grabbed the test. Positive! I screamed in excitement, and James quickly came running in.
"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" I showed him the pregnancy test. He grinned and picked me up and spun us around before grabbing my face and kissing me. "You're pregnant?" He asked the shock, still clear on his face. I nodded excitedly before bringing him in a deep kiss. When I pulled back for air, I saw the tears in his eyes, and I could feel my own start to fall.
"I'm gonna miss our other two babies." I said. I was elated to be pregnant again, but it was bitter sweet. I was still scared for the future. He nodded.
"I know. I know. But they're safe now." I cried as he stroked my cheek, our foreheads pressed together. "We'll figure this out...together." He said as if he had read my mind. I smiled. I couldn't be more grateful for these moments even if they were tinged with a little pain.
"There's no one I'd rather go through this with." 
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heartfullofleeches · 5 months
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We back on the Night Gallery ride? YES. Love those living forms of artistic materials + human guy. I know that Nightguard Reader usually has to prevent intruders defacing art or stealing, but what would happen if someone simply got lost and stuck in the gallery after hours? Would the Reader try to get them out for their safety? How would the crew react?
Of course Reader would try to help them. It's their job as night guard after all. Unfortunately for the guest, not all of the exhibits are willing to let them go whether they're lost or there intentionally. The general run down is this-
Pose no threat to a completely nonthreatening guest: The Faceless Angel, Soliel, Anri
Proceed with Caution: The Scavenger, Rosebud, The Painter, Julian
Run bitch Run: The Lady in Red
It goes without saying that all exhibits becomes immediately hostile if they or Reader are harmed. Some still attack regardless and others for specific reasons.
The Faceless Angel tends to avoid conflict as a whole and will only attack if they or Reader are attacked first. Soliel will guide them away from Reader if jealous, but sees no point in killing them as the blood will just rust up their gears. Anri, who believes they are a security guard, will try to escort them out as well.
The Scavenger will demand something from the guest and if they have nothing they will be forced to sacrifice a body part instead. This could be something as small as a paperclip which is why The Scavenger is still allowed on the first floor. Rosebud will only attack if they are starving, but feeding them is one of Reader's duties so the guest should be fine. Julian is a huge asshole and his actions all depend on his mood. More times than not he will lead the guest to a higher floor where more dangerous exhibits will kill them on site, others - he leaves them to find for themselves. If he has seem them interact with Reader or doesn't like their attitude there's a safe chance he'll take care of them himself and begrudgingly give remains to Rosebud (who ate his finger because he tried to cut their roses without permission)
Despite being on one of the highest levels, it is possible to escape from The Painter. There are two reasons they would go out of their way to meet a guest. A.) They wish to show off their latest work. B.) They need a fresh supply of red paint. If it's A, so long as the guest sucks up enough they'll survive. The Painter is a sucker for praise and if the guest dislikes their paintings it's curtains for them. B is a little tricker as if they comply The Painter will still take a fair amount of blood, but if Reader manages to get them to a hospital in time they should live. If they refuse or The Painter decides to be freed that day, they will drain all of their blood and sense they don't like to waste materials they'll find use for their skin and bones too.
The Lady in Red sees everyone as a threat. Her only exclusions are Reader and small children. If you are here after hours you forfeit your life to her no matter what your excuse is. There hardly would be enough time to give one anyway as once she sees the intruder The Lady in Red will immediately cut them down to protect her home and love.
The Director rarely leaves the top floor and only has interest in reader. He lets the other exhibits take care of the problem and sweeps up the pieces later on. A guest would actually be safer on any floor that he is on as majority of the exhibits are terrified of him and will go back to sleep or hide if he is around.
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celaenaeiln · 5 months
Note
My connection went off so idk if my ask just sent but. I was wondering your thoughts on post Robin Jason, because idk what his deal is at this point and writers don't seem to either. I don't think he's a heartless killer who should be hated and hunted by the entire family but I don't like this fanon "Jason is 100% right about everything and everyone else is the problem" idea either, when they put him in the family he feels really out of place and random and it's just.. one moment he's trying to kill Tim and the next he's the best guy ever with the softest heart?? I don't know there has to be a middle ground right?? I just can't get into Red Hood as a character due to this
Thank you for being so incredibly smart, reasonable, and intelligent.
You're exactly right. I think this is the same issue that's been affecting the Robin Dick vs Robin Jason mischaracterizations as well as the batgirls' that have been predominant in the fandom post 2020. Tim and Damian's motivations and personality have stayed the same from when they entered to now but Dick, Jason, Cass, and Steph have all grown as characters. Who they started out as, they've changed from then to now which has led to some confusion about their personality and motivations.
For Jason in particular - no, he shouldn't be hunted to the ends of the Earth for the things he did. He was hurting and acted out of pain. However it's irresponsible to refute those actions and blame other characters for them.
Jason was originally meant to be a villain. He was supposed to be like Freeze, a sympathetic villain - a character who despite their evil actions is understandable. All Freeze wants is his wife, Nora, back. He loves her and commits horrible acts that don't justify his actions but it makes sense. You're supposed to feel complicated about characters like him because they point out exactly why morality is grey. What Freeze does is wrong, but he does it for the right reasons. It's ultimately still wrong which is why he gets imprisoned.
That is Jason. Jason's actions were never supposed to okay. In what universe would creators who spent half a century working on and developing characters be okay with another character trying to kill them? What about that is acceptable? But it's not just trying to kill Tim (who only escaped by outsmarting Jason) or trying to kill Damian, the crimes he did are not acceptable.
He bombed Gotham just because despite knowing he didn't need to. He was willing to kill innocent children, men, women, and civilians for Dick and Damian were chasing him, after they helped him.
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Batman and Robin (2009) Issue #25
In the Red Robin Comics, he was willing to use children as bait during a gang war.
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Robin (1993) Issue #177
Not to mention Mia Dearden.
But at the same time, he killed people who hurt children
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Red Hood: Lost Days Issue #3
Initially Jason's morality was a swinging pendulum. He was as likely to kill kids as he was to protect them. He didn't care about the lives of civilians if it meant getting away or completing his plans.
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Batman/Superman (2013) Issue #26
Here Superman says he wants to save a kid so Jason argues that to save him, they need to poison the environment and wipe out several countries.
That's why Bruce struggles with Jason so much. Over his lack of care for people's lives. It's not the murdering of criminals that Batman is caught up on which is where I believe the misunderstanding in fanon comes from. It's his fear that by his own hands, Bruce created a deadlier version of the man who killed his parents.
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Batman vs Robin Issue #3
So no it's not fair to blame everyone for Jason's mistakes and claim him innocent, but it's also not fair to say Bruce had nothing to do with Jason's mental state. If he had shown a little less hesitance at the reappearance of Jason in Under the Red Hood, if he had shown a little more love then Jason probably wouldn't have gone as crazy as he did after coming back.
Because he saw Jason killing everyone, Bruce fell into his worst possible explanation of Jason, knowing the pain he was going through but succumbing to selfish actions to protect himself.
Jason's tough to deal with for writers because even when the batfamily reaches out, Jason is the one that burns his own bridges. When Dick begged Jason to take his hand during the Battle for the Cowl, when Dick and Damian helped Jason save his friend during Batman and Robin (2009), when Bruce saved Jason and fought alongside him against a couple members of the Secret Society of Supervillains, Jason immediately turned around and killed people and bragged about it.
In Batman Urban Legends, Jason tells Bruce that he has given up guns to which Bruce is grateful but it's also not for him. It's a sign that Jason is turning a new leaf especially given how caring he was with the kid, calling him Blue Hoodie. That was so sweet of him. The current Batman family comics are a sign of things changing between Jason and the family. What has happened up until now is not the family's fault, especially when they've reached out for the sole purpose of extending an olive branch only to have it burned and tied to a person in return. But now things are slowly changing and writers are trying to show that.
Jason's story is story of growth. He didn't come back to save people, he came specifically for the sake of hurting Bruce. But over the years, the repeated attempts of the family (Dick and far less Bruce) of bringing Jason back into the fold has helped him move past his anger. To slowly become adjusted and settle down.
Writers have struggled to know what to do with a character that canonically wants to be included in the family but rebuffs their every attempt to include him. They finally figured out the problem was Bruce - hence his fight against Jason and his exit in Gotham War. I'm assuming now that Jason will become more involved in Batman comics.
As a character currently though, I think of him as a lone ranger. He works independently but he'll show up for family meetings and big events. He'll also join family dinners if he's coerced but for the most part he likes to run on his own or with his team.
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newkatzkafe2023 · 3 months
Note
Alrighty, so... What if s/o was starting to overwork themselves and not really notice. Whether it's from going to work, doing chores or a mixture of both and the Monkey Husbands finally need to step in and intervene. How would you suppose they do so, or say?
Oh no half of them will put a stop to the bs before even gets to that point😠✋️
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(Lmk Wukong) it takes a hot minute Or him to realize that he hasn't seen you too often lately. The guys were behind on some of the bills. So you've got some extra hours at your job in order to pay them. But it's been running you into the ground without you noticing.
(Lmk Wukong) Welcome home peaches🥰🥰
Monkey Queen(Y/N) Hello sun
He immediately registers the tone of your voice and how tired you sound. He decided to brush down all the snacks you guys would have for their movie nights And a heating blanket You gave them as a gift. He brought you away from your desk. As you guys started a movie marathon cuddling on the couch. Not long after you fell asleep right on top of him. He thought you were so cute
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(NR Wukong) He hasn't seen you in a long time and here it doesn't like it. He stopped by your home and found you doing a mountain of paperwork. You look like he hadn't slept in the days. And the only thing you seem to be drinking with some coffee. It was had obvious bags under your eyes and was surrounded by your jobs paperwork. This will be easy. Wukong would ask if their is anything you need. What you didn't know was that he was giving you tea to make you tired even more before. Finally falling asleep on your desk. What side he takes shields in bed and talks to you when He'll take care of you from now on
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(Mk Reborn Wukong) oh hell no stop that bull crap the second is shows itself. You were helping out born the village because of a recent demon attack. A lot of stuff got destroyed. So you were switching from helping people rebuild their homes to harvesting fruits and vegetables to watching the village children. You had your hands full for a while and it's causing you to neglect your Husband. That ends now. After you've got back from helping an elderly couple. You The notice that we're calling was taking a nap which was strange because it's usually up to greet you, he must have got back from something it was doing so. You are gonna be quiet and just lay next to him. What you didn't notice is that he got ahold of you. And his grip was getting tighter and tighter. You're trying to move but it wasn't working. So you just gave up and decided to take a nap with him. Not knowing that he was smirking right behind you.
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(HIB Wukong) He feels you're stretching yourself way too thin hear. It's one thing to take your job seriously and to help out as much as you can. But it's not a thing to run yourself into the ground until the brink of exhaustion it is not for him. He knows you want to provide but this is too much So what he does Bring you to a village spot you remembered passing by And I still need you to give you Type of treatment They got. That was the only time you felt so relaxed and you have Him to Thank.
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(Netflix Wukong) As great as you are for helping him with the demon attacks and protecting the village. You will need some time to yourself. In the fact that he's saying that you know it's serious. He loves you too much to watch You. Kill yourself over work that he can handle with the snap of his fingers. It's just not fair to him it's certainly not fair to you. So he treated you to a hot springs he knows where you felt all your problems go away you kissed him as a thank you😘😘😘
FEEL FREE TO REBLOG 😇👍
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Text
No simping in the Cloud Recesses!!
I received permission to write a ficlet based off this amazing post by the lovely @lovewanxian and this is the result. They're working on their own fic on the same premise, so make sure to give them some love when they post it <3
I had a lot of fun writing this and drank a lot of water to quench the thirst. It didn't work, but I highly recommend hydration - and have fun!
Lan Sizhui is suffering.
Now before you get up in arms about who to kill, it's not that kind of suffering. Nobody's trying to kill him and Lan Jingyi's pranks have yet to land him in the infirmary - the suffering that's plaguing Lan Sizhui is spiritual.
No, it's not a qi deviation, although he is quite sure he's heading that way far too quickly for his age and skill level. And he didn't get cursed either - hm, well, that's debatable in the circumstances - but the point is, his suffering isn't caused by anything that's related to cultivation or any outside interference.
Lan Sizhui is suffering because all his friends are simping.
But that's normal teenage boy behavior, you might argue. Teenagehood is, virtually, the best age to simp, it's basically in the job description for the ages between 13 and 19.
Fair, but Lan Sizhui's friends are simping over Senior Wei, who is twice their age, married and one of Sizhui's beloved father figures. See the issue yet?
Imagine all your friends do all day is lament over how much they want your dad to "punish" them, how hot his ghostly cultivation is and how much they wish he'd turn them into fierce corpses - Sizhui suffering makes sense now, doesn't it?
And he's been through this before. His friends' first crush has largely been Hanguang-Jun. Understandable - Sizhui has eyes, and he can admit he's attractive, objectively speaking.
To Sizhui, he's been the closest thing to a parent for many years, so thinking of him as anything less is weird - but facts are facts. Hanguang-Jun is powerful, domineering, but kind and supportive. These are all attractive features.
Sizhui has long grown used to Jingyi fangirling over him, and to the self-insert fic black market he ran out of their room from ages 12 to 15. He's done handstands for days to atone for it, and has made peace with it.
Of course, all juniors have kept some degree of Hanguang-Jun worship and, as the female disciples put it, "fanny flutters", but the crushing has evolved into admiration rather than infatuation and Sizhui only has to deal with number one Hanguang-Jun stan fluttering over his dad.
And then Senior Wei came about and Sizhui's peace of mind has gone to hell.
Disclaimer for all of you clutching your pearls right now: Sizhui loves Senior Wei very much and is infinitely grateful to have him back, has even slipped and called him "baba" a few times. The problem doesn't lay with Senior Wei at all.
The problem lays with the entirety of the Lan junior population (please let it be just the juniors, if the seniors simp over Senior Wei too, Sizhui's going to defect) being shameless about a man that's treated them as nothing less than his unofficially adopted children.
And how do they show their gratitude? By lusting over him and moaning about how lucky Hanguang-Jun is to bed him every night.
Lan Sizhui is suffering.
---
Lan Wangji is suffering.
No, he isn't dying, cursed, qi deviating or having to sit through sect leader Yao's rants - he's being Wei Ying's teacher assistant for his introductory talisman course.
It may sound confusing - how could that be a cause for suffering? Lan Wangji loves his husband and being around him, finds his inventions fascinating and likes helping him. So what's the issue?
The issue is that literally nobody in that whole entire classroom is paying any attention to the lesson. Sword to their neck, he is positive neither of them would be able to recall not even the past five minutes of talisman theory.
But ask them anything about Wei Ying and they'd rant for hours. And Lan Wangji doubts it would be a respectful rant.
Because the Lan juniors may not be paying attention to talismans, but by God are they paying attention to their teacher. Lan Wangji can virtually see the hearts in their eyes and the bloodflow directing down south - and he hates it. Wei Ying is being such a thorough teacher, he's putting his heart and soul into it, but his class seems fascinated only with the robes he wears, the way he moves, and they nearly break their necks to look at him when he turns his back to write something on the blackboard.
(Okay, Lan Wangji does too, sue him, that's his husband, he's allowed.)
Point is, these kids are entirely undisciplined. Lusting after seniors is not explicitly forbidden in the rules, but Lan Wangji is going to suggest his uncle adds it to the list. This way, he can hand harsh punishments fairly. Nobody is allowed to have horny thoughts about his husband except for him.
And it's not like the kids are being subtle about it either.
Here's an exmple.
Wei Ying's just finished demonstrating the penmanship for a banishing talisman, and encouraged the students to try it themselves, as he would walk among them and offer help where needed.
Everyone - everyone except Sizhui and Jingyi - needed help. Even those that Lan Wangji knew to be specialized in talisman work.
Everyone needed Senior Wei to take their hand in his, lean closely and direct their brush strokes. Everyone needed to be spoken to softly and encouraged to try again.
Lan Wangji has broken two brushes already and he's probably going to move to breaking fingers next.
One of the students, Lan Yichen, Hanguang-Jun's third favorite after his two ducklings (yes, they're his favorites, no, nobody knows and this doesn't cloud his judgement, yes, they're his ducklings), raised his hand and called for "teacher Wei" (Lan Wangji glares his way, but of course the little horny bastard has no time to look anywhere but at Wei Ying).
"What's wrong?" Wei Ying very obliviously asks and Lan Wangji feels the wood of his third brush crack in his grip.
"I really don't know why this talisman won't burn correctly..." Lan Yichen whines, looking up at his senior through his lashes, pathetic and submissive.
Lan Wangji will have him copy the rules about propriety fourty times.
Wei Ying looks over his shoulder at his talisman, and doesn't see the way the boy leans into his scent just a little bit, his cheeks dusting red at the close contact.
Lan Wangji fights the urge to grip Bichen. He can't kill a kid. Come on.
Wei Ying takes the brush from his hand and glides it once over the talisman paper. He smiles encouragingly at Yichen, who's managed to make himself look borderline tearful. "Let's try it together now."
"T-Together?"
Lan Wangji is a strong man. Self-disciplined, in control. He doesn't know how much longer he'll be able to stop himself from - what was the word Jingyi used... ah yes - yeeting that young man all the way to his home sect.
"I'll send in some of my spiritual energy, and you send in the rest. Let's see if anything cool happens, yeah?"
The boy looks like he's won the lottery. Lan Wangji can see it behind the sopping wet cat look. The brush in his hand is halfway broken now.
The talisman lights up blue and dissipates.
"Wow!" Lan Yichen shouts, as if he hasn't been using talismans for the past 5-7 years of his cultivation career. "You're so good at this, teacher Wei!"
Wei Ying laughs and pats the boy's head before returning to his teaching desk. Behind him, the boy looks like he's just ascended. Or had an orgasm.
Either way, Lan Wangji breaks his brush in little smithereens and tries talking himself out of murder.
"These kids are so distracted today." Wei Ying sighs. "I knew I shouldn't have taken you with me, all they do is look at you."
It takes all Lan Wangji has not to side eye his husband.
---
Lan Sizhui walks into his room after having tea with his dads - they always have tea together before night hunts, a little ritual to lift their spirits and... well, for a last memory if something bad happens. It's a risk of the job, after all, though it's highly unlikely, considering how powerful both Hanguang-Jun and Senior Wei are.
So, Sizhui happily returns to his room to get ready and finds several of his friends all over the place, looking much like the backstage to a courtesan show. Some are struggling on deciding which robes to put on, others fight for natural light to powder their faces and the rest struggle with hairstyles.
"Hello, people who do not live here. Where's Jingyi?"
"Getting scolded for calling sect leader Nie cunty to his face at the last discussion conference." One of the boys, Lan Haoran, answers, blending the powder into his skin to hide acne scars. "He's not allowed to come to the night hunt with us."
"That's a compliment." Sizhui replies, and barely manages to reach his wardrobe for clothes in the mess.
"Tell that to teacher Lan Qiren."
"Anyway, what are you guys doing here?"
"Getting ready for the night hunt, duh!" Another, Lan Lixin, says, fixing a golden hairpiece in his bun.
"And since when does night hunting entail a makeover?"
"You want us to look like shit with Senior Wei around?!" Lan Tao exclaims, emerging from the bathroom in a delicately ornate set of light blue robes. "We have to look presentable."
Sizhui rolls his eyes. "You know he only has eyes for Hanguang-Jun."
"It's worth a try." Lan Lixin says, taking a final look in the mirror. "And anyway, last time he said he liked my hairpin, so what more could a man want from life?"
Sizhui takes in a deep breath to calm down. "And why are you lot here instead of your own rooms?"
"Your room has the best lighting." Lan Haoran responds. "God, I really need to invest in some skincare."
"Anyways, do you guys think we'll get to see Senior Wei control the Ghost General this time?" Lan Tao asks.
There are three dreamy sighs in response.
"I wish he'd control me like that. He wouldn't even need Chenqing, I'd just do anything he wanted stat."
"Same. I love when he gets all serious, I'd love him to get like that with me~"
"You guys realize I'm right here, right?"
---
Wei Ying saves his third Lan junior of the night and he's starting to grow tired. Of course, he doesn't expect them to be able to take on a night hunt independently and succeed at it, he's quite sure they've never been so uncoordinated before.
The strings of the guqin vibrate loudly and the fierce corpses kneel, growling in pain. Wei Ying rushes to pluck yet another child from their grasps and sends a burst of resentful energy their way. "It's alright, I got you."
The boy in his arms whines and hides further in Wei Ying's chest. He didn't get hurt that badly, but Wei Ying figures it must have been terrifying for him to be nearly torn into, so his reaction is understandable.
He gently lays the boy against a tree, wipes some dirt off his face and sends him a reassuring smile. "It's all right now, you're safe."
"Thank you, senior Wei..."
Lan Wangji rolls his eyes as his fingers move over the guqin. Who knew the Lan have so many aspiring actors in their ranks?
Wei Ying lifts Chenqing to his lips and a shrill tune fills the silence. The fierce corpses writhe at the sound, and, holding the flute with one hand, Wei Ying sends three talismans to immobilize them.
A nod is all it takes for Hanguang-Jun to send Bichen their way.
"Wow..." the "injured" juniors exclaim, eyes fixated on senior Wei, his eyes glowing red and expression determined.
Sizhui, who's unfortunately been delegated to tend to their wounds, fastens a bandage a bit too hard on one of his friends, pulling his attention away.
"You lot are being ridiculous. You could've gotten killed."
Lan Tao clutches his arm, eyes full of horny ideas as he stares at the way Senior Wei sends resentful tendrils towards the fierce corpses. "I wonder what else he can do with those."
"You know what, I'm going to kill you myself actually."
"What's your issue, Sizhui? It's not like it's our fault senior Wei is a DILF." Lan Lixin huffs.
"I do not want to know what that means."
"It means dad I'd like to fu-"
Lan Lixin finds his lips glued together. Hanguang-Jun sends him an icy look. "Stop talking. Conserve your energy."
"Serves you right." Sizhui mumbles. "I was wondering when Hanguang-Jun will do something about you horn dogs."
Lan Lixin glares meaningfully at him, but Sizhui pretends not to see it.
"You guys need to stop thirsting after my family. Hanguang-Jun, now Senior Wei, who's next, the Ghost General?"
The boys appear to actually be considering the possibility and Sizhui barely stops himself from liberally smacking the backs of their heads.
At least Hanguang-Jun and Senior Wei have slain all the fierce corpses, and the night hunt is over.
If he has to see his friends act so pathetic for attention again, Sizhui is going to just jump in horde of fierce corpses sword-less.
---
"Ahh, Lan Zhan, you were even more beastly than usual today!" Wei Ying whines as he takes his rightful place on his husband's chest. "I'm not complaining, of course, but what brought this on?"
Lan Wangji decides not to answer, placing a possessive arm around Wei Ying's waist underneath the covers. "Mine."
"Yours, always." Wei Ying leaves a soft kiss on Lan Zhan's neck. "Hey, did you set up the silencing talismans before we started? I don't remember anymore."
"...yes."
Wei Ying hums and burrows further into Lan Zhan's chest, pliant and sleepy. "Good, good, we would've probably kept the whole inn awake if you hadn't."
---
The juniors' dark eyebags the next morning and their refusal to look either of their seniors in the eyes is peculiar.
But who can understand the youth these days, really?
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howi99 · 13 days
Text
A Qrow's nest prologue 2
All the adult are at the table
Taiyang: So let me get this straight, Ironwood asked for you to go undercover into the glass unicorn, and not even an hour later, you punched the owner in the face and kidnapped a kid.
Qrow: *crossing his arm* Yep, should i have not?
Taiyang: *shaking his head* I probably would have killed her myself. Being a dad and all... It changes you, you know? But what should we do now?
Raven: Tsk, don't expect me to take care of the kid. It's hard enough to look after mine. *Looking at summer* And yours, by the way.
Summer: *sheepishly* H-hey, i'm trying my best! But with all the negativity in anima and menagerie, i have more work than i can shew.
Raven: *sigh* I know. Gosh, if i had known beforehand how hard being a mom would be, i might have gone back to the tribe.
ST_Q: *deadpanning her*
Raven: *roll her eyes* I was joking, obviously. Gee, way to show your trust.
Qrow: *massaging his temple* Like you said Tai, i don't know what to do. I can't give her to an orphanage, she was sold to slavery by one. *Look at the ceiling* and i can't let you all take care of her, it wouldn't be fair.
Taiyang: *smirking* Way to make us feel bad uh?
Qrow: *shake his head* For once, not my intention... *Looking at the couch where Cinder currently sleep* i feel bad for the kid. I feel like i'm the only one who she will trust.
Summer: *agreeing* Yeah, with what she's been through, i wouldn't be surprised.
*Qrow's scroll violently vibrate*
Qrow: That must be headmaster dickhead. *Answering* Yello?
Ironwood: *calmly* You have 30 seconds to explain why punched the owner, kidnapped her dear daughter and why is the glass unicorn on fire.
Qrow: She was using a shock collar on the kid and was about to whip her, so i punched her. That respond to your two first question. For the fire, i would blame my semblance but considering when i left everything was fine, i think it's really just bad luck.
Ironwood: *sigh* I knew i should have sent someone else. We had a potential lead to Her Qrow.
Qrow: *irritated* What was i supposed to do Jame? Was i supposed to let it happen? Wasn't slavery abolished in your fucking kingdom? *Getting angrier* Would you have me whip children in the name of a mission!?
Ironwood: ... No. No, i wouldn't ask this from anyone, not even my most loyal soldiers... You don't need to worry about her, she doesn't know your real identity. I will... Try finding an arrangement with her. If anything, she seems more interested in getting more money for repair so it shouldn't be to hard.
Qrow: ... I wasn't expecting that of you Jame.
Ironwood: *roll his eyes* I'm still human Qrow, but you also have to understand you'll need to stay low profile for a bit.
Qrow: Yeah, with the kid, i don't think i'll have time for a mission. Gonna have to warn Ozpin about all this.
Ironwood: Please do. You got me enough paperwork already, i don't have the patience to deal with him. *Close communication*
Taiyang: *laughing* Still as courtois as ever! Not even an au revoir.
Qrow: *smirk* That would be too much from him... Welp, i need a good night of sleep.
Summer: *surprised* Sleep? Knowing you, i thought you would have already turned into a bird to fly to the nearest bars!
Qrow: *shruging* What can i say? I don't want to make the kid sad. And i don't drink every day.
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