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#regardless of the quality of those attempts
silawastaken · 1 month
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remember when I considered posting poetry? *throws at you and runs*
i want to be allowed to live-
another day in the sun,
another ribbon in my hair,
another laugh, another smile, another restless night in june,
to sit and cry is the greatest thing i do,
tears upon tears in the passenger seat.
for love to take root, the pavement must crack
i will blossom,
yellow, or pink, or green,
stubborn and unrelenting at the side of the path you walk
there can be another day in the sun,
another ribbon through my hair, perhaps a flower,
I will smile, you will smile, and we will laugh through tired evenings in may,
there will be a reason to continue, a day like today after the next,
but for a chance to live, experience, to the extent we wish-
There must be change.
Change is the folded covers on the bed.
Change is the progessive clearing of my floor.
Change is your hand in mine.
Change takes time, change takes grey days in march.
Change will change me, will change us, as the world stays untouched,
Yet I will have all I've wanted. I will learn to live, and I will learn to grit and bear it, for another summer, another spring, another Christmas, another show, another song, another dance, another another another until I am so full of experience I can settle, i can breathe, and look back at the people I have changed, for the people who've changed me,
and smile.
If I learn to love, it will be the greatest thing i have ever done.
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lovelykhaleesiii · 5 months
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dark!mike with vanessa sister…
perhaps she’s a police officer (or cop whatever people call them) like her sister or vanessa just brings her along.
Vanessa gets a call about a break in somewhere else and leaves her sister with mike at the pizzeria, one thing leads to another and mike her up against the desk.
(not the best at trying to explain stuff, sorry!!)
Good Cop, Bad Cop
PAIRING: Dark!Mike Schmidt x fem!Afton!Reader
WORDS: 2,352.
WARNINGS: swearing, p in v sexual intercourse, breast play, degradation kink, slight praise kink, dark!Mike, possessive qualities. Mike being a tease.
A/N - thank you for sending this request in! hope I did it justice x please feel free to leave a comment / reblog :)
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It was nothing out of the ordinary, being paired with your elder sister, Vanessa, tagging along her side during the night shifts. If you were being quite honest with yourself, you had suspected it. Besides, she was your senior, a colleague, as you were just a fresh, new recruit in the local police department. To break the ice, your sheriff thought it best to pair you two together, nonetheless.
"Just need to make a quick stop-"
As the alluring neon red and blue lights flickered off from the reflection of the dark, stained glass, your curious eyes wandered towards the desolate, outdated building before you. From the sheer glimpse of the ruined exterior, an uneasy sensation, some hesitation to even leave the vehicle began to churn in the pit of your stomach. This place did not look welcoming by the least, despite the shattered fragments of cartoonish figures decorated on its exterior: most likely an attempt to appeal to the children of previous generations.
"Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria?" You confounded, naturally feeling the puzzling flex of your brows furrowing with confusion, as you turned to face your elder sister in the driver's seat.
"Just need to make a quick round, Mike here is the new security guard... This place is known for vandals and criminal activity. And he's only one person."
With the swift mention of his name, Vanessa's head instinctively nudged towards the direction of the older, rugged looking brunette, who stood by the locked entrance of the neglected complex. Eerily as if he had heard the mention of his name, even with the substantial distance apart, his head flicked upwards as means of a wordless "hello."
His features felt unthreatening, strewed with a tinge of exhaustion, as you noticed the dark circles that saturated beneath his eyes. Regardless, you could not deny, he was quite pleasing to look at, a handsome face nonetheless: it was a shame he spent his nights hidden away in some remote corner of town, and his days asleep.
"Glad to see you made it through another night. Just wanted to make sure you hadn't run into trouble already. This is my sister, by the way, and our new rookie, Y/N-"
"Dragged you along, did she now?" Mike remarked, and although you surmised it was his attempt to kid, his tone remained monotoned, except for the subtle, sly smirk across his face, as he assertively leaned his hands over to shake your own. His grip was strong against your own, his hand larger in size, swallowing your own, his texture rough. His lingering eyes had been fixated on you since you came into his vision: catching fleeting yet blatant glances, he showed no shame when you had caught him those few instances. A sudden, flustering wave of heat flashed across your face, feeling your cheeks turn shamefully scarlet. Even disguised in your uniform, declaring such authority, you felt bashfully meek in his presence, rather a school girl than a cop.
As Vanessa's familiar voice echoed in the background, your attention panned to the vacant, decaying building. It felt somewhat eerily familiar, a faint memory you could scamper in your mind in the distance and yet nothing jolted a clear vision.
The abrupt static whirring of the radio from the vehicle had snapped you back to reality: immediately she excused herself as she scattered off, leaving you to bask with Mike.
"S-So you've only just started as security... Here?" You softly stutter, intent on maintaining direct eye contact with Mike in reciprocation, even though it felt conflicting against your meek nature. Despite the practical training and experience dealing with delinquents, this vulnerability was a first. He seemed timid yet unnerving simultaneously: you felt uncertain whether he was simply just a quiet, introverted man or if he truly intended to disguise and deceit himself as one.
"No-No, I've been here for a month now, your sister just likes to make her rounds. Think she's still uncertain about me, but I don’t blame her."
His response ignited a satisfying wave of relief: as you leaned towards the hurtful notion that he would ignore you. The huskiness in his low voice almost made it feel as though he was sleep talking, only loud enough for you to hear.
"Just a curious thing though, your uh- sister. She's never mentioned you before...W-Why's that?" He uttered, as his brows frowned in sync with his words, a bemused look tinged across his face, as he patiently awaited your answer.
"W-Well V's always been private about her personal life. Since I could remember, sh-she's always been this particular way. Just her innate nature, I s'pose," Defeatedly sighing garnishing your final words, with an indefinite shrug, before glancing back at Vanessa, caught in her own world.
"Well, your sister took no time trusting me... But you- You are the undetected anomaly in her story. There must be a reason..."
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Vanessa had abruptly left in the company of a man you had just met.. Having hastily returned from the radio call, from a fellow colleague requesting for her senior presence as backup, she was bound to follow. She had insisted you remain with Mike as he settled for the night, whether he approved of it or not however, you could not say with certainty. He remained silent and sullen, as you both carefully watched your elder sister driving off into the nightly distance, the glaring neon blue and red lights flashing in the distance.
Mike had led you in, gesturing you to enter first as a gentleman would, before shutting the entrance close once more. Thankfully, he had broken the awkward silence, excusing himself momentarily to boost the electricity, only to give you a brief tour of the premises before guiding you into the security office, where the blank monitor screens echoed your reflection.
"So you really just sit here the entire night? And watch the screens?" You intrigued, feeling the natural flex of your brows furrowing, as you fiddled with the papers and dusty stationary on the desktop. A part of you, unable to fathom that a job like this would exist in such a deserted place like this.
"A job is a job for me. At that point, I was willing to take anything they offered." The monotone level of his voice was unwavering, deep, his tiresome eyes remained fixated on you though, as you remained unwilling to return the favour.
"I suppose so, don't you get lonely all by yourself though? Nothing to make the time go by-"
With no spatial awareness, you hadn't even realised how close Mike had slowly crept towards you. Closing off the distance inch by inch, before he assertively strode towards you. The unfamiliar sensation of his arm snaking around your waist, was what had caught your deficient attention, as he plunged his lips against your own in a passionate kiss. And although your eyes had widened in bewilderment, your body froze like an ancient statue in the initial seconds, as your mind raced to comprehend. As he lingered on, pursuing the kiss, your tense muscles easing, you felt no obligation to shove Mike off. No urge to decline his advance, it felt destined, relaxed into his embrace.
"W-What was that about?" You breathlessly stuttered: not wanting to decline Mike nor give the impression that you had disapproved. Despite only having met the man an hour ago, he made you feel helpless, like some schoolgirl with a pathetic, little crush that devoured her from the inside out.
Was it truly the boredom of the night that had consumed his rational mind, to do something that seemed quite extraordinary for him?
"You don't think I didn't notice you blushing outside? How nervous I made you? You don't think I would take advantage of a pretty girl like you gushing on me, huh?
His soft lips once more made contact with you, although this time exploring the sensitive crook of your nick: eagerly sucking at your tender skin.
"M-Mike we sh-shouldn't, I-I'm an off-"
"Nah-Nah, baby... You're going to be my fuck toy tonight. My little, pretty whore to keep me company. That's what you really want to be, right?"
His gentle kisses in between the suckling of your skin was bewitching enough to send your mind into an abyss. You knew this was wrong, you knew that if Vanessa found out, if your department found out, it would stain your career, or worse. And yet, your body said otherwise, disintegrating into Mike's lustful appetite.
"I-I sh-shouldn't."
*tut tut* "You know you want to, baby... Why deny it? I didn't think there were any pretty girls worth it left in this fucking hell hole... You think I'm going to pass it up?-"
With his words, Mike had swiftly lifted you momentarily, nesting himself between your spread legs as you sat atop the desk. One of his rough, calloused hands remained pinning your hips, whilst the other snaked its way smoothly beneath your uniform, firmly cupping and kneading at your breast.
"No-No... I've already put up with enough, I deserve something special. M'gonna fuck you so good, I'll have you forgetting you even were on the job."
"Y-Yes" You pathetically whimper, your hands instinctively wandering over Mike's body, itching to feel his bare skin against your palms. You manage to sneak your arms beneath his shirt, feeling the thickness of his flexing muscles beneath his moving body, as you grip at his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh.
"Look at you, princess, already so needy for me. You desperate for my cock, huh? What happened to the talking stage?" He lowly teases, a smirk spewed across his face, as you feel its curvature press against your skin, his low chuckle in harmony to your mindless whimpers and moans.
"L-Later- I-I want you now, M-Mike."
"That's my girl," His deep growls vibrating against your tender, cool skin. You hadn't even realised how swift and slick Mike was, unclasping your bra, as he began to unbutton your polo shirt, before undoing your pants. Returning the favour, with much haste and eagerness, you began to unbuckle Mike's worn out belt, as you undid his jeans.
"Easy, baby, easy- What would they think of you back at the station? The police department's little slut... My pretty, little slut."
For a few split seconds, Mike ogled at your lace panties, savouring the sight before pulling them down to expose your bare, wet cunt. Noticing how his eyes lit for the first time since meeting, an ecstasy glistened in his dark orbs, as he licked his lips with desire.
"I'm gonna have you at my beckon call from now. Spoil me with your services."
Mike pulled his body apart from yours, the heat exuding, as both your bodies felt flushed and moistened with sweat: panting as you caught your breath. Mike naturally pulled his underpants down, exposing his rigid, girthy cock: just above average length, although the sheer size was mouthwatering. His tip reddened, with a few veins protruding with anticipation.
"Look-Look at what you've done to me, Y/N..."
Without a moment to spare, as Mike once again closed the faint distance between: his throbbing cock teasingly brushed against your sensitive folds, before plunging himself in. The lightning, raw pain was exhilarating, as you felt your walls stretching beyond relief to accomodate for Mike's bulky mass. His steady pace was sloppy, as his thrusts would quicken with each pump, pummelling your body further into the desk. If you hadn't been clinging to his back dearly, nails drilling into his skin [you were certain evidence of reddened, defined marks would show] that you'd knock of a monitor or two.
"F-Fuck you feel s-so good. So tight for me, baby. Th-This was meant to be. M-Meant for me."
Endless curses and swears escaped from Mike's mouth, in sync to your moans of his name. Each time his name left your mouth, his thrust grew more vigorous, igniting something animalistic in him.
With each sloppy, hasten pace and forcible thrust, Mike had finally reached his peak, shooting his hot, thick seed inside of you, drenching your insides. Your stretched, tight walls coated now, some seed spilling through the gaps onto your inner thighs, once again was a gesture that made Mike pleased. Pleased with himself, more so.
Inevitably, this ignited the same peak, as your wetness pooled over his cock, still buried and throbbing inside of you.
"F-Fuck Y/N... Th-That was s'fucking good."
After having regained your senses and thoughts, you'd managed to clean yourself up, Mike humbly passing you a spare cloth or two from the cleaning storage. He remained by your side, intently watching you from a shy distance, interjecting just once to make certain you were okay. As you finished, he exhaustedly sat himself down on the desk chair, rubbing his palms against his thick, sprawled thighs.
"You make sure it's you visiting me from now, baby. Your sister talks too much for my liking... And she's not as pretty to look at as you."
Despite the familiar, bashful feeling Mike made you feel, as foolish as butterflies in your stomach, you felt somewhat used, and dejected.
"I-I'm not some girl you can just sleep around with Mike. I have morals, and I have a respectable job... You can't just use me like-"
"I don't want to use you, Y/N... I-I want to make you mine, the fucking is just an ugh-added bonus."
Sighing in defeat, although Mike's sly smirk was a devious looking one, his eyes however remained unchanged and stern. In the pit of your stomach, your instincts told you there was truth to his words.
Just as you were about to fathom a response, the sudden, screeching ringing sound of an outdated buzzer blared through the speaker. Mike leapt over towards the monitors, deciphering a button or two, before multiple screens lit up with the perspective of some camera in a corner. On one screen the familiar, blonde hair of your sister shot through, before her face turned towards the camera.
"Our time's up, princess. I'll see you later, okay?"
credit for dividers - @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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Long Rant about the Watcher Thing
The thing about what's happening with Watcher is that I'm a musician. I understand deeply the difficulties that come with an artist making their art and needing money and the relationship with the people that art is for. So I understand that Watcher needs money to pay their employees and maintain their business.
That said, they revealed that they have 25 employees (half of which are nepotism hires and friends from BuzzFeed) and that one episode of Ghost Files costs "hundreds of thousands of dollars." (Ghost Files being their most expensive show by bar, not their average spending habits per Watcher episode)
I understand from a few people I've seen who are in their Patreon that they make at least 100k per month from the patreon. And then there's the money they get from youtube itself from the views. And then there's the money they get from the ads.
Now I understand that Ryan said this decision came down to primarily 2 things: the ad companies were making them feel stifled with what they could do (which they don't explain how), and they want more money to be able to keep up a higher production quality.
I'm going to skip past the thing about the ads. They never specified how the ad companies were making them change their content in a way that made them feel unsatisfied. I can't speak or provide any opinions on why they want so badly to escape needing ad deals.
But I can talk about the higher production quality they speak of and that's specifically because Ryan said that they wanted to pay for a higher production quality FOR US. "For you guys."
We... we didn't ask for higher production. This is NOT a decision they need to make on our account. I understand and respect if they aren't creating on they level they want. But it's odd that they're speaking towards not being able to afford their current spending habits, as if this is something we asked them to do.
I've read a lot of comments about this and I agree with a lot of you that it's odd that this decision to switch to streaming coincides with the return of Worth It, a show that when produced by Steven, seems like it could easily cost just as much as Ghost Files to produce.
I understand why it feels like this is all Steven's fault. His vibes in the video today, compared to Ryan and Shane, made it seem like he was the most excited about it. It's Steven that has been highlighted multiple times as the business man, the one who makes the financial decisions. It's Steven's shows on Watcher that get canceled after one or two seasons, meanwhile Ryan and Shane's shows just keep going to 5 seasons and beyond.
Shane even said it explicitly, that there are "shows that didn't do as well on youtube, that might do better on a streaming service."
But most of the fans DO watch Watcher for Ryan and Shane, they always have. Steven's shows don't do as well. When Watcher brings in a new host and makes a new show for them, those shows do even worse.
I know this upsets Ryan, he's been very vocal about wanting Watcher to expand beyond himself and Shane. He wants his company to be successful regardless of whether he's in front of the camera or not.
But I feel like this step is trying to force it. Right now, this is still Ryan and Shane's channel. This is why we're here. The people haven't latched onto Steven as much, and the attempts to bring in new hosts have been unsuccessful.
There are lots of comments floating around about why Watcher didn't do what Rhett and Link did and open up youtube membership. Or why didn't they host more live events. Or why didn't they do more livestreams. These all could have been fantastic ideas that wouldn't betray the fans.
Because I do think they forgot that their fanbase is largely women in their 20s. People are right in bringing up the cost of living crisis, in bringing up how many subscription services we're already subscribed to. And my heart goes out to the international viewers who can't access the website at all in their country and the ones who can't afford it because Watcher forgot to consider the currency difference.
I feel that they have betrayed their fanbase. I remember when Watcher started and Ryan admitted he was scared no one would watch. And then we showed up for them because we loved them and what they did.
But now most of the fans can't or won't follow them where they're going. And I think Ryan might know this too from the way he said If this is goodbye, it's been fun.
I wish they would have tried other things before hard launching a streaming service. I wish they would have had a long game plan to get to the place they wanted to be as a company and as creatives.
I feel betrayed but I also don't want this company going bankrupt. If they go bankrupt, then we truly have lost them forever. I hope they take a look at the overwhelming backlash, at their falling subscriber numbers, and I hope they reconsider doing this.
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syneilesis · 5 months
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[fic] Coffee Break
Coffee Break
Love and Deepspace | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x Main-Character!Reader | G | 1.2k words ao3 link
You buy Xavier a new coffee machine.
A/N: I am so in love with this man. Day 2 of the closed beta test and here I am writing fic lmao. God, I love Shen Xinghui so much. This fic is inspired by his Shimmering Sunlight story. Some spoilers about the main storyline and character-exclusive stories, though nothing too significant. Though I frequently refer to his CN name in my other posts, in this fic I use his EN version -- Xavier.
The box is light in your hands, but the salesperson assured you that weight does not equate to quality. Price, too—because although the Hunters Association is generous with their pay, you don't want to raise flags by taking missions incessantly. Tara's nose for intrigue, of course, is well-known among your circles.
It would be all the worse if Xavier gets in on the gossip too. (You'd have to thank the stars for the man's indifference to workplace drama—and to most in general. Xavier may be airheaded at times but when he's focused on something he is monstrously focused on it. It's impressive, and—well—cute.)
The recommended beans are secured inside your messenger bag. You don't call Xavier this time to give him a heads up. He had, a few days ago, granted you the privilege to enter his home whenever you like, his hand tracing the book spines on the shelf, all the while saying it. He wasn't looking at you, but his tone remained light, playful even, that it prompted you to tease him by pointing out that if he merely wanted an efficient alarm clock, he could just buy one of those state-of-the-art ones sold in major stores. That's when Xavier whirled around to look at you, mirth in his eyes but with a secretive, scheming tilt on his lips.
“I'm coming in,” you announce, regardless, by the door, pushing it in with one hand, and Xavier's voice floats across the hall.
“You're really taking advantage of this, huh.”
“Well, a wise man once said that one must seize every opportunity given their way.”
Xavier emerges from a room in all his cardigan-and-sweatpantsed glory, hair mussed enough to indicate that he's just risen from his bed.
“Good morning!” you chirp.
He glances at the clock—two in the afternoon—and eyes the box in your hands. The caution—and curiosity—is obvious in the lilt of his question. “What's that?”
“For you.”
He takes the proffered item and inspects like it'll explode at any moment. You sigh and retrieve it again, and he follows you when you make your way to the kitchen.
“I already have a coffee machine,” he says, confused, as you begin to clean the gift.
“And it brews bitter coffee.” You spare a glance at him to find that he's watching you. You tap the lid of the machine. “This is a more recent and an undeniably better model.”
“I don't recall asking you to buy one for me.”
“That's because you didn't.” There's a pause where you deliberate telling him your next sentence and facing him directly as you say it. You go for it, in the end. “It's a gift. This is a gift from me to you.”
It doesn't register to him at first—it's as if he's waiting for an explanation that requires the mention of Captain Jenna's orders. But after a blink and a shuffle, it clicks, his eyes widening and he's fully awake all of a sudden.
And when he responds, it seems urgent: “What's the occasion?”
You shake your head. “Nothing—or rather, it's the occasion for drinking good coffee.” The coffee beans make their appearance. “Go sit on the sofa or something while I work this thing out.”
Xavier chuckles. “What—now you're ordering me in my own home?”
“And making you good coffee!”
“You're a guest—even I know that it's rude to have the guest make food or drinks for the owner of the house.”
“It's fine! And besides, I'd like to test this out as soon as possible. Refund and exchange policy only lasts for seven days from the date of purchase. I'd want to know if this works just fine.”
Xavier attempts to protest a little more, but you hold firm. Once he trudges back to the living room, you concentrate on the coffee. The salesperson seemed trustworthy enough when pitching the product, and you really can't forget the time Xavier served you a cup of bitter coffee. Not even three sugar cubes could salvage that unholy concoction.
When it's done, the heavenly aroma wafting along your nose, you test a sip from your own mug. It's a success. Placing the mugs on a tray, you head to where Xavier is.
He's reading a book. Though 'reading' seems to be a stretch because his head bobs twice, his eyelids drooping, the edge of a nap threatening his posture.
“Xavier,” you call him, and his head snaps back to attention. You bite your lip to stave off a laugh. Sitting next to him on the sofa, you put the tray on the table and hand him his own cup. “Try this one.”
A sniff and a tentative sip. And then he hums in approval, now drinking it normally. You smile around the rim of your mug, your eyes falling on his book.
“This is good,” he comments, wearing a smile of his own when he turns to you. “Did you use another kind of coffee beans?”
“Yep. The salesman recommended me another one, and it was the right decision. By the way, why are you reading an instruction manual on building a claw machine?”
“It's nothing,” he says, swiping the item away. There's another book on the table—a collection of short stories—and he snatches that up instead. You recognize the title.
“Oh! I've read that before.”
“Is it good? I haven't read it yet.”
“Yes. I particularly loved the titular story. The suspense buildup was done skillfully and the payoff was perfect.”
“I see, then I look forward to starting it.”
Surprisingly, Xavier begins reading it then and there, occasionally sipping his coffee and turning the page. You, beside him, are minding your own cup, thoughts drifting here and there. Your next mission. New strategies in battle. Your next appointment with Dr. Zayne.
It's when a weight has plopped down your shoulder that you jolt out of your musings: Xavier falling asleep on your shoulder, mug empty, the coffee residues pooling at the bottom, book opened in the chapter of your favorite story.
“Xavier?” you murmur, careful not to startle him if he's truly asleep.
He doesn't stir—only burrows further into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, the puffs of his breath close and warm against your skin.
It would've been cruel to push him away, not when he looks comfortable. And besides, you're afforded an opportunity to study him—so you let him as he is.
From your angle, staring down at his sleeping face, you note of his eyelashes, long and thick and seemingly soft, slightly curved upwards, hovering over his smooth cheeks. They frame the blueness of his eyes very well. They make him even prettier under daylight. You're reminded of the time you and he strolled under the blooming peach blossoms, the pink backdrop highlighting the radiance of his presence, statuesque. He as sublime art itself, rivaling that of Rafayel's paintings—or better yet, surpassing them. And when he smiles—
Unbidden, heat crawls across your cheeks and settles there. Oh no. Oh, no no no.
Oh dear, this won't do.
You swallow, and turn away. Against your neck, Xavier sleeps on, unaware of your unfurling realizations. By the window, a familiar bird perches, twittering under the afternoon sun, a small but melodious background song.
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anantaru · 10 months
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"you shouldn’t love someone like me."
there was an unclouded apprehension in diluc’s dispiriting tone, though really, was there?
beyond the shadow of a doubt, there always was and will be, something telling him that he wasn't right for you.
yet your expression softens slightly as you thought over it in your deepened pondering, elbows turned inwards, pulse lowered and your muscles slowly tensing up.
besides that, the short lived silence wasn’t one of a defeating nor pressuring kind, nor was it causing you to lose enthusiasm and hope; yes, it was disheartening, very much so, but you were aware of the dredged reasoning behind diluc’s particular choice of words.
in due course, you sigh into your chest, composing yourself, profoundly yet enough to keep your serenity, again and again reminding yourself of the gut-wrenching words he had uttered just moments ago, "and why is that?"
the quality of life varies enormously from one place to another, yet regardless of where you are, it doesn’t matter to you at all— because diluc was there with you, so you couldn't even fathom nor think about living a life without your boyfriend by your side.
"I—" mimicking the exact tone, diluc attempted to cash in on the inner confidence from earlier, which, in actuality was nothing but a fake from the very beginning.
don’t misunderstand him, he thinks you deserve way better than him, it's more than that if he looks into his heart, frankly— he was sure that, in his eyes, there really wasn’t any part of him reaching your level.
he frowns, "it's complicated." sure, you knew that, but right now it seemed as if he hadn't had an answer either. "i don't need anyone else diluc."
and when you catch him looking, you just know he's smart enough to know the effect he had on you, same goes the other way around. you take haste and move closer to him, making space so you can sit on his lap, but also be able to leisurely wrap your arms around his neck.
those seconds, pure intimacy invading the air around you, warming diluc's broken, confusing heart as you flawlessly lean in, kissing his lips.
"so don't ever doubt yourself, because you're perfect to me."
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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loriache · 8 days
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World Map Notes: the Elven Northern & Southern Central Continents
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These nations are where all the elves in the story except Marcille and Thistle are from. This post collects all the information I could find about these two nations, and included a bit of analysis based on that information.
TL;DR (includes both fact and my speculation):
The Northern Central Continent is a feudal monarchy with a strong class system, as well as strict borders, & could probably be considered an ethnostate. It's deeply hierarchical, and the queen is a traditionalist - so it's probably very structurally biased against non-elves and half-elves.
Elves in the NCC practice cannibalism in some rural areas!
The Southern Central Continent is more diverse, with a large tallman population on its South Coast.
To elves, "Court Magicians" exclusively refer to those serving the elven queen - a prestigious role that seems likely to be only open to nobles.
The SCC may not be a monarchy, though it's not clear what kind of leadership or societal structure it does have.
The NCC will habitually take anyone involved in ancient magic as a criminal to prosecute on their terms, regardless of jurisdiction, but this depends on their political influence and ability to pressure local leaders to agree to extradite the criminal.
Elves VS Dwarves and Gnomes may have been at war around the time of the Golden Kingdom being sealed. This conflict also may be one of the factors pushing the kingdom to be sealed in the first place.
The "Central Region" might be the origin of the "Common Tongue" that our characters speak.
Northern Central Continent
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The Adventurer's Bible | p. 132
For this place to have a high quality of life, and also a declining population - especially when it's so close to the Western Continent, which is stated to have poor quality of life - there must be strictly maintained borders and a strong anti-immigration policy. Based on the attitude of the elves, I wouldn't be surprised if it was very difficult to move there unless you are also an elf.
It could probably be considered an ethnostate - and while in these kinds of fantasy worlds, that's pretty common. Take Rivendell, or Moria, in LOTR - they take for granted that these kinds of different fantasy races will live in separate communities.
But that isn't actually realistic, and I think Kui has considered it as more of a politically established status quo rather than an obvious natural result of having magically distinct "races". Which, even in Dunmeshi, I think is a difficult and not-terribly-accurate way to represent politics - racism does not emerge from actual, physical differences between races, after all.
But Dunmeshi's presentation of this idea is interesting, because of the recognition that if there is an "elven nation" which prioritises the interests and rights of elves over other races, that is because there's a deliberate, concerted effort to keep it that way.
But there's a small section of the NCC with a high tallman population - I wonder what kind of community they have, and how they fit into the strict elven hierarchy?
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The Adventurer's Bible | pp. 134 & 136
Kabru and Rin, and other kids like them, who are adopted or taken as adopted children(rarely - the way Milsiril treats Kabru is not perfect, but she's deliberately attempting to be better than other elves.... meaning other elves are usually worse)/pets/objects by elven nobles, as well as accomplished or notable individuals who earn the elves' favour/are "invited" to stay (such as they try with Laios at the end of the story) would be an exception.
Other long-lived races could probably (...?) visit, but given the historical conflict between elves, dwarves, and gnomes, I think they'd also be pretty hostile to many of them coming to live on the NCC, even if they see them as more like equals.
Social Structure & Nobility
The Northern Central Continent is an absolute monarchy under a 372 year old queen, Heimeya (IDK what the official romanisation of her name will be).
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...With extended "nobility", which are the group that the canaries' guards draw from. We don't get much clarification of what sort of structure their nobility has, what titles there are, and where our characters who are nobles fall into it.
Pattadol (House of Vari), Mithrun (House of Kerensil), and Milsiril (House of Tol) are nobles.
Mithrun's noble house, Kerensil, is apparently a well-known family of investors! I wonder what sorts of businesses they invest in & what the elven economy is like?
Milsiril's house, on the other hand, is a well-known military family. I wonder if Kabru could claim the surname "of the House of Tol". He did go to family gatherings after all. But if he was comfortable doing so and it would be accepted, I would assume he'd have done so when introducing himself to the canaries.
Flamela is a distant relative of the queen, who has additional status due to exhibiting the genetic trait associated with their queens, extremely dark skin.
The queen is a "staunch traditionalist" who wouldn't even acknowledge a half-elf like Marcille. Nice! I really feel bad for Kabru and Rin growing up as tallmen in this sort of culture.
Court Magicians
While generally this is a term for any magic user who serves in a royal court, in the Northern Central Continent it seems to carry a lot of esteem; even just as the daughter of one, Pattadol assumes Marcille has the right to boss her around and to handle highly secret, highly illegal ancient magic secrets.
That makes sense, as in the society of the Northern Central Continent, you'd be directly serving the elven queen. But also, she has enough Court Magicians that Pattadol would not expect to know Marcille's mother's name, but few enough that it would be a big deal and Cithis would know about it if one had a half-elf child.
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I don't think it's remotely unlikely based on that to assume that this role is only available to nobles.
A "Court Magician" who doesn't serve the NCC Queen isn't a "real" Court Magician in the eyes of NCC elves. Those short-lived monarchs would be happy just to have an elf around regardless of whether they were actually any good at magic.... according to Cithis.
Magic seems very important to the society of the NCC elves. The queen communicates with her subordinates via familar, and the birds we see surrounding her seem like they are some kind of magic - perhaps not familiars since we see her familiar, but some other kind of scrying?
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Also, based on the fact Pattadol assumes a Court Magician would be serving the Queen of the NCC, we can theorise that perhaps whatever structure the SCC has, it isn't a monarchy....? Heimeya is "the queen of the elves", after all - that doesn't sound like there's another elven monarch competing for the title just next door.
Ordinary People
Apparently the NCC is a safe place and life is easy -- but given the strict class system, I kind of expect that varies a lot depending on the family you're born into.
The only elves we meet who are not nobles are the convicted criminal canaries, so it's hard to get a sense of what life is like for them from that. Cithis was apparently a wealthy fortune teller with "an intense jealousy for those born noble or wealthy." So I assume she was not born into comfort.
Apparently "There are also primitive villages deep in the woods and underground, and in some regions cannibalism is still practiced." Which is awesome. Based on her videogame elves art I think Kui's probably making a little nod to Divinity: Original Sin elves, who can absorb memories through eating the flesh of others. Elves in dungeon meshi don't have this trait, but I wonder if there is a magical ritual or some kind of cultural practice with a similar intention.
Cuisine
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Marcille's mother didn't think much of the elven cuisine.
Liricmumwarel is fancy candy given out by the elven queen the shape of which conveys blessings.
Elf Cake is a crumbly dry cake that Kabru and Thistle don't think much of. I've heard someone discuss what it's likely to be made of, but I am afraid I don't recall.
Southern Central Continent
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The Adventurer's Bible | p. 132
It seems like the Southern Central Continent gets a lot more immigration and has a more diverse population, especially along the south coast (near the Western Continent). That south coast has a high tallman population.
Fleki and Lycion are from the Southern Central Continent. Fleki got into ancient magic for the money, so you can assume there's probably class disparity there too; things are noted by Kui to be more "disorganised" than the NCC. Not a bad thing at all - the NCC is definitely too "organised" in my books. But that does potentially also mean there's less, e.g., bureaucracy, central organisation, less of a social safety net. But then again, in the NCC I doubt that whatever "safety net" there is, is available to everyone.
We can't extrapolate much from Fleki & Lycion's personalities, because they clearly aren't in the most stable societal position, and I get the sense that they're the countercultural type - they probably don't represent the type of person typical to the SCC. Also, our NCC characters are all either nobles or used to navigating high society (Cithis, Kabru to an extent) so they aren't exactly a typical "ordinary NCC person" as a basis for comparison either. However, there's less of a "strict set of social rules" type of feel to the SCC characters, fitting with my suggestion that the SCC may not be a society with a strong feudal element.
Geopolitics & Conflict
The fact that, despite their being from the SCC, Fleki and Lycion are in the Canaries, who work directly under the NCC's Queen, implies that the the NCC feel entitled to process and prosecute people who commit ancient magic-related crimes regardless of any notion of "jurisdiction". This is backed up by the way that they were going to take Marcille - but that is something that the governor of the Island had to give permission for, which Laios is able to withdraw. So I assume that the NCC elves apply pressure on various world leaders to extradite criminals involved in ancient magic.
The SCC would cooperate with this, since they're allies, even if they don't have a great relationship (according to the World Guide).
The NCC are also clearly able to take half-foots without trouble, as we see by Chilchuck saying he's known half-foots who got involved with "black magic" (ancient magic) and were disappeared by the elves. But I doubt gnomes or dwarves are giving people up easily - though that probably doesn't go for dwarves like Senshi and Namari, without strong community ties.
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Long before the current times, elves fought dwarves & gnomes. There might have been more than one of these conflicts...? While long ago, this war isn't "ancient" (like the ancients who sealed the demon into dungeons, before their world was mostly destroyed by it).
Thistle, Delgal, and the Golden Kingdom were (I believe) caught up in one of these conflicts, which used Melini as a staging ground - thus why Thistle was pushed to seal the entire kingdom in the dungeon.
To do this, Thistle unseals a dungeon created by the "ancient people". These could be the "ancients" who created the dungeons, before the apocalypse. Or they could be another, still extinct, society.
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Regardless, at least one of these conflicts seems to have taken place after the golden kingdom was sealed - so, within the last 1000 years.
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Though, this could refer to a different, more localised conflict between the Golden Kingdom and their dwarven neighbours.
The order of events is that the Golden Kingdom was sealed (1000 years ago or so) > Dwarves took over > Elves stole the land from the Dwarves ("long ago" by the Island Lord, a tallman's, standards) > Elves gave the land to a local lord, who was either an ancestor of the Island Lord, or the Island Lord himself. The Island Lord is himself a descendant of the lord who poisoned Delgal's father, as is noted in the World Guide. However, it isn't impossible for there to be large gaps of time between these events, which could put the elf / dwarf wars at a more recent date.
The fact we know that the elves stole the land from the dwarves, and then granted it to a political actor who was relevant during the events of the Golden Kingdom flashbacks we see suggests to me that the events were roughly contemporaneous. If they were, that puts at least one of these conflicts at roughly 1000 years ago.
So, the elf/dwarf & gnome conflict is "long ago" by short-lived standards, but would be considered "modern" by the long-lived races, if you ask me. At least, the equivalent of the World Wars for us - recent history, even if we weren't alive.
I'm guessing the "Elf King" from the below panel in fact was a word that's more gender-neutral in Japanese, since the "Western Elves" definitely have a queen.
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Language
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When Kabru says the "Central region" I expect he means the region where the NCC and SCC is.
The fact that he observes that the lack of any accent means he's from the Central Region is really interesting. It could mean two things;
either they switched to speaking in the language spoken on those continents, which Kabru would naturally know, having grown up there. It's 100 percent possible, but I think this would be noted in the story.
or, the language that gets called "the common tongue", the one that all our principle characters speak for most of the story, originated from the elves in the Central Continent. Or at least it's the same one that the elves use, and their political influence is great enough that their accent gets to be considered not an accent at all. The fact they were "granting" land in this area to tall-man lords suggests a large enough historical influence in the area that this is quite plausible to me.
Mithrun absolutely does have an accent - nobody speaks without an accent. His accent is just politically and socioculturally normalised to the point of being considered the "default/proper" way to speak - like received pronounciation in English.
The common tongue isn't ubiquitous everywhere - not just Kuro, but Kiki and Kaka are also noted to be studying the common tongue. The Tansus were born on the Eastern Continent, so probably gnome communities there speak their own language - Kiki and Kaka grew up primarily surrounded by gnomes after all.
It's also quite likely that Kabru, specifically, because of where he grew up, would consider Mithrun's way of talking to be the default "not an accent" accent. His adoptive mother surely has the same upper-class NCC accent. I expect that other characters might experience it as more "marked".
This isn't a world where everyone speaks the same language everywhere; the common tongue is called that, but there are many different languages. Kabru and Chilchuck are two characters who are adept with many of them - Kabru speaks the language of the kobold, and probably lots more. Chilchuck works as an interpreter as part of his union stuff - I can tell you from experience that that's a hugely valuable skillset in that context, as many of the people who most need union representation are people who don't speak the dominant language, or at least not fluently.
If you got all the way to the end of this post.... thank you for reading, I love you. Check out my other World Map Notes under that tag on my blog; I've made a few so far and there will almost certainly be more. Next I'm thinking the dwarven nations...? But I could be persuaded if someone had a preference.
Also, anyone got any speculation on what, exactly, is the previous time that Heimeya ate a person/monster/chimera that this panel implies:
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We really don't have anything to go on whatsoever, but I think it's a fun tidbit.
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merakiui · 2 months
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[01] 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓉, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁.
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villain!azul ashengrotto x magical girl!reader note - welcome to this very impulsive magical girl parody! i'm not sure how many chapters it will be exactly, but i'm looking forward to writing more. i hope you'll enjoy reading! chapter navigation: [01] (you are here) // [02]
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Magic is a messy, complex thing.
It can enchant and amaze with beautiful, endless possibilities. It can terrify with traumatic results. Like any sort of power in this world, it is a heavy responsibility for those who wield it. Everything has its dark side; you’re sure the same holds true for magic. No matter how marvelous it may be, surely there exists some shadow.
It’s also something you can’t use, and so the good and the bad don’t really apply to you!
Not that this is cause for envy. Rather, you’re relieved you don’t have to worry about experiencing the problems that accompany magic. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is; magic would only further complicate it. With no other plausible way to return to your world, you’ve had to make your home here on Sage’s Island. It’s an isolated place, boasting two elite magical universities and a bustling town.
It also happens to resemble a chicken wing on maps, so that’s a plus. Truly an ideal getaway! If only you weren’t trapped here indefinitely… Maybe then you’d have better appreciation for it.
As it happens, you’re a janitor living in the abandoned, decrepit dorm on the outskirts of campus. It took a month since you moved in, but you’ve managed to clean it up into a habitable space with the help of its resident haunts. The Headmage hasn’t been very helpful or present since your arrival, and so you’ve had to make do with what little you’ve been given. But for all of his troubling qualities, he isn’t inherently cruel. He’s kind enough to pay you for your services (but then that was only after you threatened him into an agreement), and he doesn’t overwork you (again, this is because you made it abundantly clear you won’t do anything if it violates your own sanity in some way, shape, or form). At least he’s willing to negotiate every time you argue for humane working conditions.
He’s an irksome guy. You can’t believe he has the gall to call himself the ‘embodiment of magnanimity’ when he’s done the bare minimum. Even the ghosts have offered more assistance and they don’t have any sort of authority here! You’re pleased to share a space with them. Sometimes they seem more reliable than the Headmage.
Despite your attempts to acclimate, the illustrious Night Raven College is still a place wholly unsuitable for a magicless human such as yourself. You’re the same age as some of the students here, but they feel like they’re on another level. Flying overhead on brooms, casting spells, mixing up potions… You listen in on some of their conversations while washing windows or sweeping the floors and wonder if all magic schools are this rigorous.
Maybe that’s any school regardless of its curriculum. Any sort of academic pursuit comes with difficulties; that’s normal. But magic is a facet unique to this world. There aren’t any arcane academies where you’re from, but now you wish there were. They seem so fascinating.
“Not much of my problem, though, is it?” you mumble, shaking free of that thought. Being a janitor is great. You can avoid the stress of school and keep up with the gossip exchanged in the halls. It’s like reading the newspaper, only it’s spoken instead of written.
Morning spills through the part in the curtains when you open them. You shut your eyes and bask in the warming glow of a sunshine smooch. It’s going to be another great day—you’re sure of this—and a day as pleasant as this deserves to be lived in its entirety. Perhaps you’ll have a picnic outside or you could even—
BAM.
Your eyes snap open just in time to view the raven who’s slammed itself against the window. Disoriented, it jerks itself up and away from the glass, flapping its wings wildly. You watch its attempts with a pitying frown. And then, inching closer to pull the window open to allow the raven respite, you see it: the blue flames racing towards you at a rapid speed.
With a yelp, you dive out of the way just in time. Due to the forceful blast, the window shatters in a spray of glass. Heat licks at your face, so hot it almost singes your brows, and you stumble to the other side of the room in a panicked daze.
“You lousy bird!” someone exclaims, the words pronounced in a growl. “Get back here so I can nab ya and prove that I’m worthy of bein’ at this school!”
The raven squawks, fluttering wildly about your room. A sleek, obsidian-colored feather floats into your hand. You don’t have time to admire it, for the curtains have just caught fire.
“Come on—I just put those up last week!” you bemoan, looking on in abject horror.
From the opening, a furry creature bursts through. He resembles a grey cat with his short, fluffy stature, but his tail is shaped strangely and there’s blue fire flickering from his ears. The same blue fire he’s currently conjuring in an attempt to catch the raven…
You grab hold of the coat rack—the nearest viable weapon you can think of—and jump in front of him. He startles and leaps back when you swing.
“What’re you doing?! You can’t do that in here! Fuck—my curtains! Don’t light anything else on fire!”
Baffled, the cat-creature scoffs at you. “How was I supposed to know someone’s livin’ in here? Not my fault!”
“It’s a residence! Of course someone lives here! I live here!”
“When they make me the Great Mage Grim, I’ll fix this place up for ya. That’s a promise! I just gotta catch that bird and prove myself a worthy candidate. Just you wait—they’ll be puttin’ my name up in lights!”
“Like hell they will!”
With a devastated groan, you whack the curtains down with the coat rack. They land in a heap, smoke curling from beneath the pile and sliding out the shattered window in dark, wispy tendrils. It takes a frazzled few stomps and smacks before the fire fizzles away, leaving you with charred curtains and the distinct stench of something scorched.
Still panting from the adrenaline rush, you loosen your grip on the coat rack. This is a mess. What am I going to do? I don’t have enough money to fix this!
You turn your hateful scowl on the cat-creature. “You!”
“W-Wait! Wait!” He raises a paw to his lips and gestures towards your bedside table. The raven sits perched, a golden chain wrapped around its neck and an envelope clasped in its beak. In all of the chaos, you must have missed that. “Don’t say a word. It’s right there.”
He approaches stealthily, slow as a sloth, and pounces. He misses narrowly, ending up with a mouthful of feathers instead. The raven caws and takes flight, circling overhead.
He spits feathers. “Myahaha! I got it! I actually—oh. Dumb bird… No one can escape the Great Grim.”
The raven lands on your shoulder next. It cocks its head at you.
“What? Is this for me?” you ask, even though you’re certain of the answer. You pluck the envelope from the raven, who sets to preening itself now that it’s no longer occupied.
“Give it here!” The cat-creature hops up onto your bed, reaching with an expectant paw. “That bird’s got my admission letter!”
“Your letter?” You hold it out of reach and stick your tongue out at him. “No ‘great mage’ sets someone’s home on fire. You’re a subpar mage, if anything.”
“I am not! You just wait—I’ll show you!”
“I don’t want to see anymore.” Turning away, you break the wax seal and procure the parchment waiting within.
He swipes at you impatiently. “Lemme see! What’s it say?”
Written in elegant script, complete with a stamp you’ve never seen before, it looks very official. Whoever wrote it is exceptionally good at cursive, their letters swooping together seamlessly. It’s almost like a decorative artwork with its double-looped O’s and dancing cursive. You marvel at the craftsmanship, wishing your handwriting could look as refined as this person’s.
To whom it may concern,  Greetings and congratulations on your admittance into the program! We recognize your outstanding achievements as a model student and believe you have what it takes to do wonderful things. It is with great pride that we bestow upon you a piece of magical history, referred to as The Tried-and-True Trident. You will find it enclosed in this letter.
You look up from the letter just as an aureate necklace lands in your palm. The raven blinks at you once before lifting itself off of your shoulder with a flap of its inky wings. It departs through the window, up into the cloudless, cerulean sky, in a flurry of feathers. There’s a tiny trident pendant hanging from the chain. It winks at you in the light, so shiny you think you might catch your reflection if you stare long enough. You’re not sure what part of it is tried or true, for it looks more like costume jewelry than anything. At least it’s cute. Kind of fashionable, even.
With this historic piece, you are now free to wield the wonders of the sea as you please. You are expected to use these powers to defend those you hold dear from the threat of tragedy. You should have met with your mentor already. If not, we shall send someone to escort you. We look forward to beholding your excellent heroics. Sincerely,
“Gimme that!”
Grim snatches the letter before you can glimpse the name signed at the bottom. The enchanted letter tears in two and then, before both of your eyes, it promptly disintegrates.
You eye the fuzzball with a fresh bout of vitriol. “What did you say your name was again?”
“It’s Grim—the Great Grim—and I promise ya as soon as I—”
“Good. Now I know what name to carve on your tombstone when I put you in the ground for ruining my letter!” You reach for the coat rack, expression ablaze with newfound ferocity.
Grim yelps and scurries away. “H-Hold on! I can fix it!”
“How? It’s ash!”
“Well, what did it say? I’m sure I can explain it to ya!”
“It said something about this necklace. The something-something trident. Protecting loved ones from tragedy. Admittance into some program. A mentor…”
“Mentor… Mentor! Yeah, that sounds about right!” Grim laughs proudly. “Aren’t you in luck, human! I’m gonna be your mentor.”
“Sure you are.” You rest your hand on your hip, brows raised. “The same cat who destroyed my window and curtains is gonna mentor me in whatever this is. Funny story.”
His jaw drops. “A-At least pretend like it’s cool! And I’m not a cat!” He hops off of your bed with a huff. “Ungrateful human. You’re undeserving of the Great Grim’s teaching anyways! I don’t need you!”
“Other way around.”
“You don’t need me!”
“There we go.” You applaud him sardonically. “Look, I don’t know what any of this is. I’m sure it was a mistake. I’m not even a student here.”
Grim, who had been on his way towards the door, halts. He turns to face you slowly. “Yer…not a student?”
“I work here. There’s no way for me to be enrolled here because I can’t use magic.”
“W-Wha—can’t use magic?! Then why did you get in, but I didn’t?!”
You can only shrug. The necklace twists idly when you hold it up for closer inspection. “So this thing is supposed to help me? Hey, Grim, do you know what this is?”
You lower to his height and hold your hand out. He watches you dubiously before approaching and leaning in to sniff at the chain.
“Smells fine to me. Kinda like wet metal.”
“I didn’t ask for a flavor profile.” You heave a tired sigh. The day’s only just begun and you’re already swamped with nonsense. “Maybe that Headmage knows something.”
Grim gasps. “You’re chummy with the Headmage? You think you could talk him into lettin’ me join?”
“Why do you even want in so badly?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a renowned mage! They should be begging me to join!”
Anyone could’ve sent that letter. It might not even be from the Headmage… If I knew the sender’s name, I could just track them down and ask them. 
“You said you wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you?” You offer your hand again, this time to shake on it. “Become my mentor. That’ll show that Crowley you’re plenty capable. Then you can get into this school and I can find a way to return this necklace to its rightful owner.”
Grim folds his arms over his chest, avoiding your hand like it’s the plague. “And what’s in it for me? My services aren’t cheap, y’know!”
“You can live here with me. I’ll find ways to sneak you into the lecture halls if you wanna sit in and observe the class.”
“How about food?”
“Food is…” Nonexistent, really. That cheapskate Crowley! I’ve got to talk him into raising my pay. “I get paid at the end of this week. We’ll have to survive off of what’s in the fridge and the lunch I’m allowed to get from the cafeteria for now.”
Grim’s features soften. “Hm… I guess it’s not terrible. Could be better. But all great mages start from humble beginnings—including myself, but you’d never be able to guess!”
“Right…”
With how carelessly you tossed that fire around, you’re the last mage I should be partnering with.
“Do we have a deal, Grim? You’ll be my mentor and I’ll help you wherever I can.”
Grim places his paw in your palm, his chest puffed out. “You’d better start callin’ me Teacher!”
A smile strains on your lips. “Not happening.”
With a firm shake, your pact is made.
“So what spells do you know? Any that might be able to fix up a window and some curtains?”
“You don’t need those lame spells! The Great Grim can do plenty of other amazing feats.”
“Like?”
“Very amazing feats. Didn’t you hear me?”
“You don’t know anything, do you?”
Grim flinches, guilt flashing across his countenance.
“Is blue fire all you can summon?”
“I… I can do much more! This is just a fraction of my true power! If I had a magestone, this whole spell business would be a lot easier.”
“A magestone? Ah, those things the students have on their pens? I guess that would be helpful. Where can we get one, though?”
“I’d tell ya if I knew.”
“The library might know. If we head there now, we can spend the rest of the morning researching and then we can get lunch.” You reach to fasten the chain around your neck. It’s tucked under your shirt next, safe and sound. “Wait outside for a minute. I’ll change out of my pajamas, clean up the window, and then we’ll be on our way.”
Grim trots out the door without resistance. “I’ll grab a snack from the fridge while yer doin’ all that stuff.”
“One snack! Don’t eat everything!”
But he’s already bounding away, singing as he goes: “Free eats can’t be beat!” Sighing, you shut the door and turn to assess the state of your bedroom. It could be worse. Your bed could have been damaged, or you could have sustained quite the nasty burn.
One mess at a time.
You change into your uniform, which is really just a PE jumpsuit. The same one the students wear. This one has seen better days and it’s a size too big on you, but it’s all Crowley claimed to have on hand when you asked about work clothes. Once again, you soothe yourself with your favorite adage: It could be worse.
You could be homeless. You could be starving. You could be dead.
So it’s not so bad to wear the spare. It’s still got the dorm patch and class numbers sewn onto it, albeit both have worn considerably. Your eyes are drawn to them as you admire yourself in the mirror. Octavinelle Dorm… You’ve heard there are seven dormitories at this school, each based on a historical figure and representing the various spirits of these people. The sorting at the entrance ceremony was something special for the incoming first-years. You’d felt a little awkward to disturb such a grand occasion, even more so when the Dark Mirror announced to a hall full of talented mages that there isn’t an iota of magic in you.
Quite the humbling experience.
But sometimes you wonder which dorm the Dark Mirror would have chosen if your soul was bursting with magical capability.
As of now you’re a faux member of Octavinelle—whatever that implies.
By the time you’ve managed to sweep the glass, dispose of the ruined curtains, and patch the window with a temporary placeholder—what a relief for pasteboard and masking tape—Grim’s nearly through the few items left in your fridge. You yank him away just as he reaches for a container of leftovers.
“If you eat too much, you’ll spoil your lunch.”
“Can’t imagine that problem.”
“You sound so proud of your bottomless stomach.”
“And you’re not?”
You roll your eyes and tug your sneakers on. “Let’s be off.”
“How’re we gonna sneak me in?”
“How do you feel about becoming my temporary purse pet?”
Grim looks unimpressed when you hold your tote bag open for him. “No way!”
“It has lots of space and it’s stylish. Besides, shouldn’t your dedicated student pay proper respect to her great, glorious mentor?”
He doesn’t bother hiding his approving smirk. “Well, when ya put it like that…”
After Grim clambers into your bag, you lock the front door behind you and set off for campus.
“Please don’t blow our cover, Grim.”
From within the depths of your tote, he scoffs. “The Great Grim is the stealthiest mage you’ll ever meet!”
“I highly doubt that.”
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It’s the second time you’ve found yourself in the library, but it’s still just as impressive as ever. You could spend hours here, wandering between shelves and skimming all sorts of tomes. Some of them are written in languages you can’t decipher, so you observe the pictures provided in hopes of gleaning any clues. Grim lounges on a chair beside you, absentmindedly turning through a thick textbook. You managed to find a relatively isolated corner in the very back and it’s not especially busy today. The promise of a hearty lunch keeps him well-behaved.
“Find anything?”
“Nothin’ important. Ugh. This stuff is the worst! Why can’t a magestone fall from the sky? That’d be a whole lot easier than this.”
“It sucks, yeah, but what else can we do?” You rest your face against your palm and scan through yet another page of information. “Let’s keep looking. I’m sure we’ll find something useful.”
“Nngh… I’m hungry.”
“You just ate.”
“That was hours ago!”
“Has it really been that long?”
“Feels like it.”
You lean back in your chair and stretch, listening to the satisfying snap of your joints as they crack into place. “Can you understand any of these words?”
“Most of ’em.”
You point to a specific place in the paragraph. “Can you tell me what this one means? I think I’ve got the general idea based on the graphics, but I could be wrong.”
Grim glances at it, his blue hues waltzing across the page. “It’s about merfolk.”
“Merfolk? They exist in this world?” And then you pause to gather your delayed thoughts. “Never mind. That would make sense.”
“What about ’em?”
“Where I’m from, merfolk aren’t real. They’re fiction.”
“Huh. A place without any merfolk… Bet they don’t have anyone like me either. I’m one of a kind!” Grim chuckles. “So where’re you from?”
You open your mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts. You usher Grim under the table, who goes but not without protest. He ducks under just in time, hiding within the shadows. A student rounds the corner and stops short when he sees you. He’s holding a few books in his arms, each looking more heavy than the last.
“Ah,” the both of you say in unison.
He clears his throat and offers you a cordial nod. “I wasn’t aware someone had already claimed this corner.”
You eye him carefully. He looks familiar. Glasses. Silvery-grey hair. Blue eyes. Where have you seen him before?
“It’s all yours. I was just leaving.” You move to stand, but he steps closer.
He peers at the open textbook lying in front of you. A smile you can’t quite classify as friendly spreads on his lips. “Is that so? You seem especially engrossed in this book.”
“I like to stay educated.”
I genuinely can’t understand a word in this text.
“On the anatomy of merfolk?”
You shut your mouth at once. That’s what this is? No wonder the diagrams looked…unique. But you’re too committed to your story to falter now.
“Especially the anatomy of merfolk.”
The student chuckles, but it sounds hollow to your ears. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. You’re in Octavinelle?”
You gape at him like a fish out of water before realizing the jumpsuit and its patch. “Oh! Ohhh, no, not at all. This is an old uniform.”
He looks at you with more scrutiny until it clicks. “I remember now. You’re the magicless girl who so carelessly interrupted—ah, forgive me—fortuitously appeared during the entrance ceremony last month.”
What a little fake. You narrow your eyes at him, suddenly defensive. Now you’re made aware of who he is. He was one of the few in the audience during your awkward arrival. Back then, he was clad in a robe with his hood up and so you only caught sight of his glasses and the swoop of his silvery-grey hair peeking out. You’re certain this is the same guy. You could’ve said that without the backhanded barb.
“So my reputation precedes me.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “I disagree. You’re still quite the mystery.”
“Well, there’s nothing to solve.” You rise from your seat, reaching for your bag. “I’m just a janitor trying to get by.”
He hums. You can’t decipher the meaning in that, but you don’t particularly care enough to drive yourself mad over it. You feel around on the chair for Grim. He was just here a moment ago…
You drop to your knees to check under the table. Your heart plummets into your stomach.
Grim, you had one job!
“Is something the matter?”
You pop up from beneath the table so fast that your head knocks into it. “Shit! Ow! Yeah, no, I’m fine. I thought I dropped my pencil.”
You scan the rest of the space as discreetly as you can. The student watches you. You don’t like the way he seems to stare through you as if intending to gain access to your very soul. As if he sees something you don’t.
“Have a wonderful day. Study hard. Pass your tests. Get—uh—the scholarship or whatever.” 
Flashing him your most nonchalant grin, you make your way down the aisle at a pace that is the exact opposite of relaxed. There’s no time to dwell on that off-kilter exchange. You’ve got a runaway cat-creature in dire need of capture!
The one day I take off and it’s the day my window’s ruined, I get a weird letter, and my new roommate is missing. That’s horrible luck!
You walk briskly through the library, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. Grim couldn’t have gotten far. You were only distracted for a few minutes, and the library is huge. Perhaps he’s just lost and waiting in place for you to find him. For some reason you can’t fool yourself into believing this train of thought.
Your search takes you out of the library and down the hall. Where could he have possibly gone? Surely he didn��t make his way back to Ramshackle. You check the time on your watch. It’s almost lunch.
Lunch! Of course!
You hurry towards the cafeteria with rekindled purpose.
I’m going to start calling him Gluttonous Mage Grim if he makes this a habit!
Fortunately, Grim is predictable. You’ve only known him for a day—not even—but it’s not so difficult to pinpoint his location after you’ve worked out his motivations. Unfortunately, you make it to the cafeteria just as the grand chandelier falls from its support in the ceiling, crash-landing in a broken heap. And standing just feet away from the damage, looking very guilty, is Grim alongside two students you’ve never seen before. Crowley’s there as well, just as frazzled as the feathers on his coat. He’s in the middle of lecturing them about the importance of this relic—how it’s been with the school since it was founded and it’s an irreplaceable piece that would cost over a billion Madol to fix—when he takes notice of you.
“(Name), it’s devastating! A most heart-wrenching tragedy! Why, it’s enough to bring one to tears.”
“Seems so…” You shoot Grim a vicious look. So much for being covert. Not so stealthy now, huh? “I’ll get the broom.”
“No, not yet. These three—” he turns towards them, yellow eyes fierce— “are expelled!”
“Expelled?!” the navy-haired student exclaims. He looks like he’s just stared Death in the face. “This can’t be… What will my mother think? I promised her I was gonna get good grades, attend all of my classes, pass my tests…”
“Hey, it’s not my fault. That hairball’s the one who started it!” the other argues, his arms folded over his chest.
“No way! It wasn’t me!”
Crowley clicks his tongue. “Unbelievable. This school has zero tolerance for blatant tomfoolery. Surely you’re all aware…” He pauses to look at Grim. “And you! You’re not even a student here! Just what are you doing, trespassing on school property?”
Grim flounders dizzily. “Spinning…”
“He’s my roommate.” All eyes flick towards you. “I’m letting him stay for now. Sorry if that breaks any rules. I just don’t believe in turning others away, even if they’re prone to causing trouble.”
“What a noble soul,” Crowley murmurs, impressed. “Well, if that’s the case, seeing as he’s nothing more than a talking pet cat—”
“I ain’t a pet or a cat!”
“I’m afraid my previous statement still remains in place. He’s not to be on school grounds.”
“You heard the Headmage. No school for you.”
But Grim’s already lying flat on the floor like a defeated pancake.
“Then what about us? That hairball can’t get the easy way out and leave us with the worst of it!”
“There’s a way to fix this, isn’t there?”
“Y-Yeah! Can’t you just use magic to fix it right up? It’ll be good as new. Someone with your skill should be able to do it.”
Crowley shakes his head, mournful. “Magic is not limitless. Not only that, but the magestone powering this great chandelier is cracked. And those are not so easily replaced. I fear this is the final day this miraculous chandelier will ever grace this grand hall with its light.”
The ginger-haired student grimaces. “Not good…”
The other withers. “Expelled… What am I going to do? I can’t go back home with this news!”
A magestone… That’s what Grim needs. You glance at the one set into the chandelier. A ghastly crack runs up the surface. Are they really that special?
Before both can succumb to their melancholy, Crowley says, “There is one way! Possibly…”
“Really? What is it?” they say at once, eyes bulging with hope.
“This very magestone was mined from the Dwarfs’ Mine. Perhaps, should you procure one of similar qualities, the chandelier can be repaired.”
“Then… Okay! I’ll get a magestone! As long as it’s all right with you, sir.”
“Ah, but the mines have been closed for some time. I reckon the magestones are all but gone.”
“I’m sure I can find one. Please, sir, I’ll do anything to stay here!”
Crowley seems to consider this. Eventually, he nods his approval. “I’m willing to postpone your expulsion for now.” The navy-haired student’s relief is short-lived when he adds, “However, if you fail to bring a magestone to me by the first rays of the morning sun, it will be expulsion for the both of you. No further exceptions.”
With a hasty nod, he says, “Of course! I understand! Thank you so much for the second chance. I won’t let you down!”
“Yeah, sure. Let’s get this over with.”
You gather an unconscious Grim in your arms while Crowley instructs the students on how to access the mine. They stride off with different degrees of enthusiasm. You open your mouth to ask permission, but Crowley beats you to it.
“Please do accompany them. I trust you’re responsible enough to handle any trouble?”
“If you raise my pay, I’ll do anything.”
He clutches his chest. “Your proclivity to bargain strikes through to my very soul! Ah, but since I am the kindest Headmage I shall grant your request.”
With a satisfied grin, you hold Grim tighter and run off after the pair. “Thanks again, Headmage!”
You follow them all the way to the Mirror Chamber. It’s just as imposing as you recall, but there’s a serene quality to the space that wasn’t there before. Maybe it’s because you’re here willingly and there isn’t an audience to witness your poorly timed debut.
You approach both of them. “Hey! Sorry to bother, but could I join you?”
They turn to look at you. Grim shifts in your arms, groaning.
“I don’t see why not. Welcome to the team,” the navy-haired student says with an awkward smile.
“Might as well. More people means a faster chance at finding that magestone.” He points at Grim next. “And he better be coming, too.”
“That’s the plan. I’ll make sure he won’t cause any problems for you.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “Today’s just not my day. What bad luck…”
“No time to sulk. We’ve gotta get that magestone,” the other says, turning towards the mirror. “Dark Mirror, the Dwarfs’ Mine!”
Grim jerks awake then. “Myaah?! Where am I? What’s goin’ on?”
You hold onto him tightly, preventing him from squirming out of your arms. “Relax. You’ll be fine. I think.”
“What d’ya mean by that?!”
The Dark Mirror brightens with life. There’s a blinding flash of light and then, just like that, you’re taken to the mine’s entrance.
Magestone, here we come!
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bluntsandcigs · 6 days
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ɢᴏᴊᴏ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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“𝐈’𝐦 breaking up with you”
Your boyfriend, for better or worse, was the love of your life and it was a fact that you sometimes lamented in moments when he was being especially insufferable. While certainly not without his good qualities, he had a list a mile long full of traits which often made you want to lob a pillow at his head, regardless of his Infinity. His tendency to be the world’s greatest troll was very high on the aforementioned list and he wielded his devious side with all the wicked glee of a well-seasoned trickster. You supposed being his girlfriend and thus someone he was exceedingly fond of meant you probably got off easy where his pranks were concerned. You’d met the likes of Utahime and Kento on occasion and both seemed perpetually prepared to kill him with lethal stares alone. You, on the other hand, despite often putting up with his nonsense were lucky enough to also be on the receiving side of his best side. With you he was thoughtful, funny, incredibly charming, and intensely dedicated to ensuring that you were constantly having the best sex of your life.
You loved him deeply and dearly.
But, you were also debating throwing him right out of your apartment in what little he was wearing.
Despite your claim that you were leaving him, Gojo’s smug grin remained steadfast and he made not even the slightest attempt to waylay your obvious annoyance with some of the sweeter playfulness you adored. He appeared to be delighted by the deadpanned irritation in your voice and plastered on your unsmiling face, his objective to vex you succeeding spectacularly. Glancing to your left, towards the small shelf of decorative knickknacks you kept there, you debated grabbing the first plush toy you could get your hands on just to chuck it right at him. Unfortunately, Gojo knew you too well and he tutted in response to your obvious considerations.
“Now, now, you can’t possibly be mad at me, can you? I’m only giving you what you said you wanted.”
“This is so not what I meant.”
Gojo, despite coming off as regularly lackadaisical missed very little and he’d been damn well privy to every single instance over the past year where you’d mused over your desire for a cat. Your love of animals, particularly those prone to purring and pouncing, was no big secret. The countless cat videos you’d cooed over and feline plush dolls that decorated your bedroom broadcast your love of the whiskered creatures just as clearly as your words did. He knew, damn well, that you’d been growing more and more keen on the idea of adopting a sweet little kitty of your very own. When he’d responded to your last remark towards future pet ownership with a grin and a none-too-covert comment that you might soon find yourself with a surprise over the next few days, you’d been giddy with anticipation. When he’d go through with it and what sort of cat he’d adopt in ‘secret’ had kept you on gleeful pins and needles for close to a week.
Now, as you stared at your almost naked boyfriend where he’d perched himself on your bed, you wished you hadn’t dedicated a single iota towards being excited.
“You said you wanted a cat, didn’t you? I thought this was what you meant.”
Glowering and well aware that he was feigning obvious ignorance, the fucking troll, you watched as Gojo adjusted his sultry pose for one that had his ass arching up for a better glimpse of the cat tail attached to the back of his underwear. It and the ears he’d fastened to his head with a well-placed headband were as black as you’d suddenly decided his soul was.
“Come on, babe. I had to give my girl the best of the best and you can’t deny that there’s no cuter kitty out there than yours truly.”
His grin stretched wider still and he made a sound deceptively close to an actual purr, the noise nearer to seduction than adoring affection. You were resolved to be unmoved by what you knew was an attempt to turn you on, turning towards the doorway which would lead you back into the living room.
“If I leave now I can probably get to an animal shelter before it closes.”
“Aw, you’re really leaving?”
He sounded genuinely pouty and disappointed and you were resolute about not caring in the slightest.
“Would I have been more convincing if I’d gone the tail butt plug route instead?”
The comment almost stalled you, because damn if that particular idea didn’t boast some level of promise, but you refused to be moved. At least not so easily. You took a step and stilled before you could take another, Gojo at your back so lightning fast you hadn’t even registered his movements until you felt the rush of air which signified them. He wrapped his arms solidly around your waist, nuzzling his face against the curve of your neck with an almost comical mimic of a cat’s meow. It would’ve maybe be a little cute if it wasn’t so infuriating, but it was definitely amusing and you bit back a tiny chortle of laughter with all the willpower you could muster. If he was going to be a goddamn menace then you weren’t about to make things easy for him.
“You don’t think I make a good kitty?”
“No. You make a good clown, though. Truly world-class on that front.”
“Ouch! I can’t believe my mistress is so cruel! Especially when I was so ready to give her all the cuddles!”
Anyone else probably would’ve been embarrassed to act so cutesy and forlorn, playing up the role of disappointed house pet, but shame was one trait Gojo had never gotten any real hang of. The man had enough cockiness to walk totally starkers through Roppongi without so much of a chance of blushing, so acting ridiculous behind closed doors was well within his comfort wheelhouse. Sometimes you wished you had even a drop of that kind of unflappable confidence.
“I doubt your type of cuddles is the kind I was hoping for, Satoru,” you grumbled, waiting patiently for him to just let the damn joke die already.
“Oh?”
You knew he was grinning even with the lack of seeing it, the wide spread of annoyingly kissable lips sure to be revealing those perfectly pearly whites of his. You felt teeth grazing your neck, a subtle scrap that settled into the tiniest nip where your pulse throbbed with a quiet drumming beneath your skin. His long fingers stretched and spread across your hips, pinkie fingers curling around the front belt loops of your jeans.
“What if I was gonna give you whatever cuddles you wanted? However you wanted them? What about that then, hmmm? Would that make me a good kitty? Would it make you wanna keep me?”
Gojo’s hips shimmied from side to side and you weren’t entirely positive if it was his attempt at making his tail sway or a not even remotely subtle effort to grind his cock against your ass. Knowing him, it had to be a little bit of both and feeling how hard he already was, as if he’d been eagerly anticipating the satisfaction of his cat boy fantasies, made it harder to deny him out of spite. You were annoyed for sure and never very keen to give him precisely what he wanted when he was being a pain in the ass, but Gojo was also stupidly good at making you cum. His talents in the bedroom were almost ludicrous in their effectiveness and if he was exceptionally game to give you precisely what you wanted, at least in a sexual respect, it wasn’t exactly easy to refute the possibilities.
He rumbled out another mockery of a purr and dragged his tongue across the sensitive skin of your neck, wet and smooth instead of at all scratchy like a real cat’s would have been. Perfect for making you feel good and curse your weak resolve, but you already felt wet just from thinking about how satisfied you’d be in the next few minutes if you relented.
“If you let me, I can eat your pussy so good you probably won’t even be mad at me anymore.”
“Wouldn’t eating my pussy technically count as some kind of cannibalism right now?” you asked him ruefully and you were rewarded with a delighted snicker in response, Gojo’s arms hugging you tighter.
“Oh, this kitty right here is keeping you. All mine. Can’t get rid of me no matter how bad you try.”
It gave you butterflies every time he said things like that, made little comments to suggest that for all his flightiness and reputation for being a player, he wanted to try for something more permanent with you. He may have been playing and playful, his default setting most days it seemed, but the words made your heart soar even so. The annoyance you felt from discovering his devious little prank hadn’t exactly fled in the wake of your affection, but it was tempered by it to some extent. If you were giving in to his hopes, you were giving in to them exactly the way you wanted and you weren’t about to let your obnoxious cat boy get away with his mischief entirely.
You shifted and turned, moving around in the cradle of Gojo’s arms to face him, mirroring the wicked glee on his face as your hand sandwiched itself in the space between your body and his. His brows shot up high, the shades he wore shifting down the slope of his nose just enough to give you a hint of the mesmerizing blue behind them. However, he looked quite pleased by the feel of your fingers squeezing around his cock. He was warm, even through the material of his underwear, and it was all too easy to map out the exact shape of his length with the cloth barrier in your way. You tried not to shiver just from feeling him, well-versed in how thick and long he was, the fullness that came with his erection sliding home inside your body an aching feeling you welcomed once you’d gotten used to it. That sensation was as dear to you as how honest Gojo’s reactions always were, nothing of his pleasure ever restrained or held back and it was as true in that moment as it had been since your first time together. Gojo’s smile grew wider and he let out a truly arousing groan as your palm rubbed against his shaft, fingers promising more.
“That can’t be all. Come on now,” you cooed, stealing a kiss from his lips and tasting the strawberry flavor of his chapstick. “Be a good kitty and let me know how good this feels.”
The band of his underwear stretched against the back of your wrist once you pressed your hand inside, fingers wrapped in a tight fist just beneath the tip of his cock, already leaking for you. It pleased you to feel his precum there, provided the slightest bit of slickness to help you roll your hand down his erection all the way to the base and lower, cupping his sac with a gentle squeeze that had Satoru’s hips bucking. The pressure made his dick weep further, smoothing out your strokes and providing you with what you needed to pump your hand over him in slippery glides he so clearly loved. Satoru mumbled your name, the smugness of his countenance wavering before the mounting pleasure. Those beautiful blue eyes of his fluttered closed, snowy lashes close to his cheeks, and seeing his mouth drop open for every sound of sensual delight was an utter joy. You loved it when you had him right where you wanted him, when just the feel of your hands coming together to work his shaft could make his thighs tremble. Your boyfriend may have been an incorrigible mischief maker who did so love to turn you into a soaking mess, but he could sometimes be so desperate for your touch.
Eager and greedy and all for you.
You needed more.
“Noooo!”
He outright whined when your hands left his dick, the length of it visibly throbbing with his yearning. His neediness was adorable with those cute little cat ears on his head and inwardly you considered how much better he’d look with the additional of a little bell collar, wondering if he might be into that in the future. Knowing Satoru and his never-failing interest in all sorts of sexual experimentation, he likely would’ve been thrilled by the idea.
“Don’t pout.”
You tried to kiss the look off his face, but it remained, Satoru steadfast and resolute to look as adorably put off as he could. When your fingers moved from his body to your own, tugging the shirt off your body with a notable urgency, his expression swiftly morphed into one that was greatly intrigued. Dissatisfaction was replaced with delight as his eyes raked so longingly over your half-naked frame, tongue working across his lips like someone had waved his favorite snack before his face the second your bra hit the floor. Teeth clamped down lightly on soft lips, Satoru shimmying his hips to sway his little tail as if to suggest that the sight of you briefly rubbing your nipples might be enough to make him pounce.
Like you were a mouse, his chosen prey.
You were no such thing and you lightly pushed at his chest to make him back away, give you room to lower your body down onto your knees. You pinched your nipples, peaks tight and providing the softest zing of pleasure through your breasts, smirking as you angled your chest towards him. His eyes widened and his smile was one of unadulterated excitement, a shaky exhale marking his happiness as his cock settled against the valley between your breasts. His hips moved, hands bracing against the wall behind you so he could thrust his slick erection through the soft crevice you’d provided him, his gaze enraptured by the view. He was long, just long enough that you could bend your head to tease the tip of his dick each time it drifted upwards, a thick weight nestled between the softness of your tits. The taste of him was warm and a little salty on your tongue, but you always found yourself wanting more, relishing each chance to caress the smooth head of his cock with a hurried swirl of your tongue.
“Feels so fucking good. Your pretty tits and that sweet little tongue on my cock. Can never get enough of this.”
“Wanna keep going then, Satoru? Wanna keep going until you’ve got my chest all covered in your cum?”
His hips shuddered, briefly angling towards a few faster thrusts through the warm cradle of your breasts. Gojo’s head shook, shades going further askew upon his face until he finally tossed them aside, unconcerned with anything other than his pleasure to care if they ended up broken on the floor. It was you that he treated with more care, freeing himself from the building ecstasy you’d been giving him to lift you into his arms, transporting you to the cushioned softness of your bed in seconds. He moved so fast you felt temporarily dizzy, but not so terribly that you missed how desperately he removed your jeans and panties, stripping you in a panting frenzy of need. It didn’t feel as if anything had been torn, no sounds of ripped denim stitching reaching your ears, but you knew that he could’ve destroyed your remaining clothing with ease had he wanted to. Gojo rather liked proving how easily he could rend fabric of all types from your frame and he’d been a fan of making buttons fly until you’d start grousing about having to mend or buy new clothes whenever the two of you felt horny. His restraint in that respect was surprising given how eager he happened to be. Gojo didn’t often put so swift a stop to foreplay, especially not whenever you had his cock nestled so pretty between your tits. He must have been waiting for you to come home for even longer than you’d anticipated for him to be so excessively keyed up.
“Impatient, are we, kitty?” you asked him, trying with your all not to sound breathless in your own state of anticipatory need.
“Say that like your cunt isn’t all juicy and ready for me.”
A gaze painted even clearer than sky blue roved with heated, covetous delight over the glistening wet of your pussy, lips pulled towards smug as he held your legs aloft, apart. Denying that you were exceedingly turned on would’ve been a bold-faced lie with the proof that you were lusting hard for your boyfriend right there before his eyes. It couldn’t stop you shrugging your shoulders, lifting your arms up above your head to present a picture of relaxation as well as readiness, fixing him with a smirk that beamed pride. Gojo’s plan could have been to seduce you all along, at least after he’d finished being a Special Grade pest yet he’d been just as seduced himself. He may have had all his ideas lined up like dominoes ready to be knocked down in a precise order, but his cock was flushed and hard where it came to rest against your folds. The tip still leaked with the evidence of how overcome he was by his need to have you, drips of heated precum dotting the top of your pubic mound with just one throb from his erection. Whatever Gojo’s exact intentions must have been had flown entirely out the window and he was clearly as impatient to cum as you were. He was the world’s strongest sorcerer, but making him ache to have you without having to really try made you feel pretty damn powerful yourself. After how much he’d irked you a few minutes ago, you were rather grateful for the ego stroking.
“You want me just as bad.”
“Then do something about it.”
You presented your dare with a squeeze of your hand around the head of his cock, a warm grasp that he thrust his length towards and the gliding motion had his thickness sliding perfectly across your clit. Smile wavering with a moan, Gojo tugged your hand away from his dick and brought your palm to his mouth, kissing lightly and dragging his tongue over the light taste of himself on your skin. When he lowered your hand, it was to rest it beside its twin against the sheets, his eyes darting towards the sight of your fingers clutching tight to the bedding once he pressed your legs together. Your thighs formed a tight haven for his shaft, different and sweeter than fucking your tits because the added softness of your pussy was right there underneath. Sodden folds, swollen from the craving for him, rubbing along the underside of his cock to coat it in further slickness and it made the process of fucking his erection along your clit so much easier. It wasn’t the same as being inside you, as having him stretching you open until you swore you felt him touching deeper than anyone ever had, but it may as well have been heaven regardless.
“Satoru, that feels so good..”
“Feels so much better than good to me, baby,” Gojo huffed, barely holding on to his smile as he rolled his hips with a mix of mounting, pleasured desperation and controlled precision. “Don’t even have to be inside you to make us both feel good. Can make you cum so hard just from doing this.”
He was right, truthful, and you could feel how every stroke of his smooth cockhead brushing across your bud was pushing you towards a mounting bliss that would have the thighs pressed around his cock shaking in no time flat. He felt so hard and hot against you, the wet of your cunt audibly slickening his flesh further until the sound was deliciously close to the familiar cacophony that filled your bedroom whenever he was inside you. It was wonderful yet excruciating, fulfilling your needs while leaving you anxious for more, aware of the empty feeling inside you. Gojo would never leave you unsatisfied, because he never had, but the longer he thrust his way between your thighs, the deeper your wants became.
“You can. I know you can. But, fuck, Satoru, it’d be so good if you were inside me. Even better than this.”
Gojo’s groan said he knew, that he remembered how tight you were and how perfectly the squeeze of your inner walls always milked him dry. He seemed to struggle for a moment with keeping his eyes open, crystalline hue half-hidden by lowered lids as he stared down at the repeated peek of his cockhead questing forward through the crevice of your thighs. You glanced down to see it too, trembling with pleasure as you watched his tip rub and grind against your clit, bucking your hips up to ensure the pressure intensified. You moaned and it was a weak sound, an orgasm threatening to tear its way through you before long, leading your fingers from the sheets to your own chest, pinching your nipples. Gojo’s hips stuttered from the sight, his hooded glance drawn up your body and higher, locking on your face.
“Later,” he promised you finally, tone throaty and strained as groans pitched into near whines. “I’ll be inside you for as long as you want later. But..”
He smirked, like a devil with the face of an angel, dressed up in the cheap cat costume which had started it all.
“Kitty’s gotta mark you now.”
It should’ve made you cringe or laugh. It probably could have had you doing both at the same time, cheesy as the comment was. Especially with his eager thrusts shaking the cat ears on his head until the band holding them in place looked poised to fall right off. You just didn’t have it in you to care about the silliness or anything beyond the fact that he was making you cum, your throbbing clit and the unrelenting drag of his cock across it pulling an orgasm through your core before you could truly even prepare for the fall. Gojo didn’t have to be nestled deep to feel your climax overtaking you, seeing it before him in the sharp arch of your back and the kneading of your hands across your breasts hurriedly moving back to the sheets. You kept your eyes open in the thick of it, gazing up at your lover as he watched you come undone with parted lips, seeming hypnotized by the visage of your release before him. He didn’t blink, an almost ethereal vision made human by the way his own control faltered, broken and splintered by his own fall to ruin. Gojo’s cock pulsed against your puffy cunt and he cried out his satisfaction as it spilled across your belly and chest, haphazard lines as white as his hair marking your sweaty skin.
He turned his head, pressing his teeth into the side of one of your calves just hard enough to leave a mark, but it was difficult to even mind any hurt there could have been while the two of you came together. Sensations too good to be real burrowed beneath your skin, carried through the pit of your being to every part of it, and you let the ebb and flow persist for as long as it must, savoring the wonder of being brought to the edge so easily. It was always a marvel to you in the aftermath, as your latest orgasm slowly found its way towards softening, how successfully Gojo could please you and how much it could leave you craving more. Your body still shook, your pussy intensely soaked from how hard you’d just cum, but the aching he inspired in you lingered deep where you wanted him to be, almost enough to make you forget that you’d initially been cross with him.
Curse him and his magic dick and his stupidly pretty, wonderful face.
God, you were so in love with him.
The feeling appeared to be very mutual, broadcast like a song across airwaves and carried to you through the look he gave you once the messy pulsing of his spend finally halted. Gojo peered down at you with a smile, less smug and more sweet than you expected he would’ve easily let others see on him. He looked close to swooning, though he may have just been a little fuck drunk from his orgasm, yet you could see past the post-sex daze to glimpse the more that was written in those eyes of his. You weren’t always sure of it, battling with the perceptions of his reputation and your own insecurities, but the softness of how he looked at you was there, as sweet as the way he kissed you when he lowered your legs to lean down. Gojo stole as many kisses as he pleased, each one slow and savoring, lasting until he saw fit to nuzzle his face against your neck with a mimicked purr that had you hugging him with legs and arms alike. You petted the cat ears off his head, grazing your nails through snowy white locks to make him repeat the noise a second time. When it had you giggling, a sound he claimed numerous times to be his favorite, Gojo lifted his head to grin at you and he looked pleased with himself, victorious in a way that would’ve made you pinch him had you not felt so good just then.
“So, are you gonna keep me?”
“Hmmm..I dunno..”
“Seriously?! I made you cum in less than five minutes! That’s gotta be worthy of a forever home!”
“Yeah, maybe, but as far as pets go, you’re kind of a messy one, Satoru. I mean, just look.”
You gestured towards your chest with a hand, reminding him of the spill of cum he’d gotten all across your bare breasts and stomach, as well as his own now. Gojo looked temporarily pleased and more than a little aroused by the sight of his so recent release painting your body, but he let the delight fade into a mask of determination. He hopped off the bed, tucking himself back into his underwear, and he marched out of your bedroom with a purposeful stride that seemed less serious than he may have meant it to when he whistled along the way. The whiplash of his strange, mercurial moods had your head shaking, though not without affection, and you climbed off the bed to give your still tingling body a good stretch, heading towards your dresser for some pajamas to change into in the near future. Quite possibly after Gojo had fucked your brains out the way you were anticipating that he soon would.
The motions of your feet carrying you across the room stopped at the strange sounds you heard just beyond the open door, straining your ears to listen. Nearby in the bathroom, you could hear Gojo making shushing noises, talking in a low whisper you could catch without being quite able to discern the exact words he was saying. You looked around the room, spying his cellphone nestled atop your table along with his usual clothing. Who was he talking to?
When he returned to you, moistened washrag in hand, you noticed how he seemed to pointedly avoid your gaze while he set to work cleaning his cum from your body. The whistling which had gone with him out the room resumed, a little louder and appearing far more like a distraction than it should have.
“If you’re hiding another prank or something, I am officially going to cockblock you for the rest of the night. I mean it.”
“You’re an awfully suspicious woman.”
“I’m dating the trolliest troll to ever troll. I think I’m well within my right to be suspicious of whatever shenanigans you’ve got up your sleeve. So, come on. No more surprises, Satoru. What was with the whispering in the other room?”
Withholding his answer until he could finally see your brow beginning to pinch, waiting for the reaction of near annoyance he’d been hoping for like the wicked little shit he was, Gojo tossed the washrag into your dirty clothes hamper and strode out of the room again. Left standing there, questions unanswered, you fought not to simply follow him or start rubbing your temples, electing to just wait for whatever was coming next. Knowing Gojo, it could’ve been anything. Ferreting through drawers for something to change into since the possibility of further mischief had cooled your lingering arousal, you tugged on a long t-shirt as soon as you got your hands on one, rooting further to find a fresh pair of panties.
Gojo cleared his throat from the doorway, halting your quest prematurely, and the frustrated look on your face was gone the second you saw what he had held so gently in his large hands.
“Oh.”
“Yep,” he replied, massive smile beaming, happily smug from your shocked reaction. “Not what you were expecting at all, was it?”
He stroked one long finger underneath a tiny chin, the fluffy kitten in his hands purring from the attention and staring at you with the biggest blue eyes you’d ever seen, aside from your boyfriend’s. It looked like Gojo was cradling a living, breathing powder puff and you felt your heart threatening to absolutely burst at the view of such a precious creature just within reach. You wanted to ask him where and when he’d managed to find such a gorgeous cat, but your emotions were threatening to get the better of you, questions hard to manage when you were so happy.
“Satoru.”
“Hey, baby, don’t cry. This was suppose to be a good surprise. I mean, obviously not as good as me being dressed up all sexy, but still good, right?”
Gojo took a step forward and he extended his fuzzy surprise out to you in the clear hope that holding the kitten would make you smile again. You grinning through the tiny spill of tears that made your vision glossy and gingerly brought the tiny fur baby to your chest, trying not to squeal at how readily the kitty leaned into the cheek scritches you gave.
“No, it’s a really good surprise, Satoru. A happy cry kind of surprise, I promise.”
“Oh. Whew. Okay. That’s a relief. I don’t know what I’d have done if you suddenly decided to reject Satoru the Second.”
Purrs rumbled sweetly against your chest, a sound and sensation you’d been hoping to have in your life for months. It comforted you, elated you, and those feelings couldn’t be beaten by anything, not even the absurdity of the name your boyfriend had chosen.
“We’re definitely not naming him that.”
“We have to, though! He looks just like me! It only makes sense to name him after me!”
“Nope. Definitely not. I veto.”
“We could call him ‘Toru for short?”
“What about something cute? Like Pancake?”
“Okay, maybe you’re onto something, but if we’re going with naming him after something sweet, it at least ought to match how he looks. What about Mochi? Or Marshmallow?”
Gojo came closer, rambling off a list of dessert related names he felt might be suited to the ball of pure fluff that seemed completely content in your hands, like he knew he’d found his forever home with the two weird humans that surrounded him. Your boyfriend started petting the kitten’s head, showing his own immediate affection for the pet he’d been planning to gift you all along.
He may have taken a very roundabout way of revealing what he’d done for you, but in truth his methods hadn’t been all that bad. Gojo could be a menace in the best and worst ways. That much was a fact known to anybody who associated with him.
To you, however, he was the sweetest nuisance.
Silly cat boy costumes and all.
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akanesheep · 11 months
Text
Their most toxic trait: some NSFW, but not explicit.
These toxic traits existed before they fell and became demons… or in the case of some, before you met them… in the case of the brothers, they’re only more intense after their fall.
Lucifer:
His pride… as if it wasn’t already a given, but it’s really more how his pride limits him. He can’t freely apologize even when he knows he’s wrong. He tends to be arrogant when he needs to be compassionate. If you are able to cope with his prideful and arrogant front, inside, he’s putty in your hand.
Luci won’t be able to be a pubic simp for you. He will bond your hand and link arms with you, and even give you a chaste kiss, but he has to maintain the image of the competent right hand of Diavolo at all times when in public. He won’t be able to put up with silly chaos when you’re out and about. All of that is for at home, when it’s just the two of you. Honestly, it’s like you’re dating two different men. The public Lucifer, and the private one.
In private, you laugh together at silly word puns, he chuckles as you recount his brothers antics. He blushes fiercely when you kiss him, and he teases you with a wicked grin as he pounds you into his mattress. Loving the look of your fucked out face. His soft, gentle eyes and voice as he takes care of you afterward.
If you can handle public Lucifer, the private is worth it.
Mammon:
Our greedy man is known for being many things… but his toxic trait isn’t his greed, or even his theft, or possessiveness and jealousy. It’s his feeling of inadequacy. Mammon thinks he’ll never measure up to Lucifer, or Diavolo, or anyone really. He even feels inadequate in comparison to his younger brothers. It’s one reason he leans into his sin so much. If he can’t be the smart one, the dependable one, the pretty one, the strong one; then he’ll be the bad one.
As I said before, he’s the one that would struggle the most in a poly relationship, because he compares himself to everyone and only sees his faults. He will ask what you like about your other partners that he doesn’t have. He’ll even attempt (poorly) to meet those things, not understanding his own qualities.
Instead of feeding his insecurities by going into his questions directly, redirect him with all of the things you love about him, things only he can offer. Not only will you prevent his insecurity from spiraling, but you’ll lift his confidence in himself and help him see that he is vital to you.
Even if you aren’t a poly MC, he’ll still find himself lacking. You’ll do the same process regardless of how many people in your bed.
Love your first man, he needs all your words of affirmation and praise.
Levi:
Another obvious one. His envy. He’s actively jealous of everyone around him, and like Mammon, unable to see his true worth. He does have parts of himself that he is confident about. Technology, and strategy. He knows he’s good with these, but even so, he struggles to voice himself. Feeling like he’ll only be mocked and scorned even if he tries.
This man lacks confidence in every area. Especially in himself. You will constantly be reassuring him… correcting him when he starts downing himself. Let’s be honest, that is HARD to do. I mean, it’s easy for awhile… but it can be draining to have to constantly battle his own mental demon.
Help him see who he really is. Help him find worth in everything he does. He can improve, but his sin will always be a fight for him.
His switch to Admiral Levi however can be head spinning. It’s such a change that it can take your breath away, and it’s hot as hell to have him suddenly fill with confidence and authority.
You know that this part of him is real and always there, it’s just a matter of getting these two parts of himself to coexist note freely.
Satan:
Anger isn’t this man’s only toxic trait. But it isn’t the one that’s the biggest issue. He works on his anger daily, and with you around he doubled down on it.
No, what is more important is the imposter syndrome that he has. The ‘copy’ of Lucifer issues he’s been struggling with. The unwanted flashbacks to things he never saw, the dreams of a life he never lived… he wakes up from those panting, frustrated, and having to take time to sort out his own existence from Lucifer’s. The morning’s after those dreams, he’s irritated, he avoids speaking and prefers solitude.
He isn’t a hard demon to figure out. With some coaxing he’ll finally talk to you about the dreams, and about the confusion and disoriented state he wakes up in. Hold him, let him talk and run your fingers through his hair. He will feel more centered and calm, why do you always make him feel like his heart is at peace, less chaotic and spiraling that before?
Asmo:
This man is so narcissistic that sometimes you wonder if he is actually complimenting you, or simply complimenting how you look beside him. Like an accessory. That being said, this isn’t his most toxic trait.
His toxic trait is his viscous tongue when angry. Satan may be the avatar of wrath, but Asmo’s spewed venom when he loses his temper is borderline abusive. He rarely loses his temper, but when he does, every word will drip with spite and he takes the low blows. Once his temper cools, he is distraught that he would say such terrible things to you. Of course one can’t truly take back the things they say out loud, and if not handled carefully it could be enough to end a relationship after the first fight. Thankfully you two have talked about his lashing out before, when he mentioned how it had happened before, example given was a fight he had gotten into with Solomon. Quite eye opening, as neither of these two men are exactly anger prone. To picture an argument between the two was impossible. You confirmed the details of the fight with Solomon… to think these two could say such hurtful things toward each other and still speak at all, much less be as close as they are? Amazing.
The eye opener is when Asmo tells you that his words are usually his own insecurities thrown onto another person. His physical nitpicking comes from a part of himself he’s insecure about. That does not make it okay, and he knows that, and has worked hard to break and stop it all together. He’s gotten much better about it, but he worries that it will happen again.
Beel:
This sweetheart is mild tempered, mild mannered, and a huge cuddle-bug. What on earth could be his hidden toxic trait??
I can’t think of one. He’ll eat anything food related that’s around… so no food prepping… and his resting bitch face can be intimidating to some… but that is hardly a toxic trait.
If you HAD to find something, you’d go with his over protectiveness, and his fear of choosing between his loved ones. He’s lost his sister, because he chose his twin. What would happen if someone tried to attack you and Belphie? Would he make the choice to let you die while he saved his twin, or would he let his twin die to save you? It’s a paralyzing fear… what if he freezes up and you both die?
It’s why he pushes his physical limits. He never wants to lose his loved ones again. It’s too much for him.
Belphie:
If you haven’t guessed already, it’s his unresolved misplaced anger.
He has misplaced anger toward the human race for Lilith’s death. Although he’s made an exception for you, it can pop up unexpectedly. Think of it like a racist person being in a relationship with someone of a different race. He gets uncomfortable being around humans, during an argument he’ll make some disparaging remark about humans, etc…
He has unresolved anger toward Lucifer. Some of which Lucifer has nurtured to keep Belphie going. There is a small part of him that blames Lucifer for the war. He knows it’s not Lucifer’s fault how things turned out, because they were trying to save their sister. It was going to happen regardless.
He would never admit it, but he also has unresolved anger toward Beel. Why would Beel save him over Lilith?? He knows he doesn’t know how he would have reacted in the same situation, but he can’t help it. This is survivor’s guilt.
If wanted I’ll do one for Dia, Barbs, Simeon, and Solomon. But I’ve held onto this one for too long before finishing.
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inkpot909 · 6 months
Text
Fluff Alphabet: Jotaro Kujo
↳ Reader is written as gender neutral and was previously a part of the trip to Egypt.
A/n: I’ve always wanted to write an alphabet list! And who better to write one for than my favorite marine biologist? I hope y’all enjoy and remember to take care of yourselves. <3
Warning(s): A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it innuendo. Mentions of blood and canon-typical swearing. Very light angst.
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(A)ffection - How affectionate is he? How does he show affection?
Let’s face it, the phrases “Jotaro Kujo” and “lovey-dovey” don’t mix.
He didn’t rank high on the affectionate scale, at least, not at the beginning of your relationship.
Instead of being openly affectionate, his main method of expressing his feelings during the beginning was to spend lots of quality time with you. Attached at the hip, he followed you around everywhere.
Another way he expressed his affection was by… introducing or referring to you as his boyfriend/girlfriend?
You still remember the first time you’d met his mother. He brought you home one day, standing a good foot or two to your left. His arms were firmly planted in his pockets, while you awkwardly had to listen to him bluntly say “This is who I’m dating.”
That was his idea of romance.
Jotaro’s come a long way since; it’s a matter of time for him. Quality time is still a large part of his love language, no question, but after settling into the relationship he’ll get the hang of it.
Specifically, he’s more knowledgeable on what you like best and that will certainly shine through in his actions.
This is especially true in private, where he’ll show a side of himself that’s genuinely sweet and more inclined to be physically affectionate.
(B)eauty - What does he admire about you? What does he think is beautiful about you?
Your personal drive and motivations are two things he deeply admires about you!
Specifically, your passions make you incredibly special in his eyes. And this is true regardless of where those motivations lie. If you are passionate in your career, or even about your hobbies, he’ll be sure to take notice.
Whether it’s the way your face lights up when the topic is even slightly mentioned, or the expression of complete focus when knee-deep in whatever it is that compels you to move forward, it can honestly leave him speechless.
He’s a great support as well. Vocally and bluntly expressing a unwavering belief in you. He does this more often if you harbor any insecurities towards your passions as well.
Physically speaking, he adores your eyes the most.
The amount of times he’s drowned himself in the vast ocean contained within your irises is uncountable. It’s grounding, comforting, and will likely never fail to make his heart flutter.
His staring is a constant in your relationship. During the platonic stage, the beginning of you dating, and all throughout your years of marriage.
(C)omfort - How would he help you when feeling down/having a panic attack/etc.?
Much like with displaying affection, Jotaro’s going to be rather shit at this in the beginning.
Where it differs, however, is that his attempts at making you feel better were likely the first signs of his deeper feelings towards you.
As the journey to Egypt developed, so did both of your understanding of one another. Namely, he was rather curt and dismissive towards you initially. This behavior probably led you to try and avoid him, whether it was done shyly or with a more vocal pushback against his actions.
Regardless, stand attacks were the catalyst of you realizing he actually cares for you. More specifically, during the fight against Steely Dan. It didn’t matter to him that Joseph’s life was on the line, if the bastard so much as got to close, you were having to hold Jotaro back from becoming violent.
Comforting you while dealing with mental or emotional hurtles is something he approaches far more awkwardly.
When you first began going out, he would grow silent and sit next to you as you let out your emotions. He’s always been a good listener, certainly, but that was pretty much it.
As he matures, he’ll find the- although limited -right words to say. Not only that, but if you want to cling to him, feel free to do so.
If you’re going through a panic attack, his response depends on the situation. If it’s during/because of a battle, he leaves comforting you to someone else while he dives head-first into the fight.
If it’s not during such a dire situation, he will pull you close (unless it’s already been made clear that will only heighten your distress).
Jotaro will encourage you to meet his gaze, and follow his deep breaths as best you can. He will always be calm, and prioritizes you relaxing before discussing the source of your panic attack after the fact.
(D)ance - Does he like to dance with you? How good of a dancer is he?
No way in hell.
It won’t matter how many times you, whine, beg, or bargain. The most you’ll ever get from him is the tapping of his foot or gentle nod of his head in the car.
Try not to take it personally!
In general, Jotaro just doesn’t dance. It’s not for him. He doesn’t even know if he’s got naturally good rhythm (he doesn’t) because he just… never does it.
The first time you ever danced with him is on your wedding day.
Marrying the love of your life in of itself is enough to make your heart swell. But the fact that he danced with you, in front of friends and family no less, made the ceremony magical. And his steady movements, as well as how tenderly he held you to him, took your breath away.
The fact that he asked his mother to show him how to slow dance, practicing for weeks beforehand, is something he’s taking to the grave.
(E)xcitement - How does he act when he’s excited? What excites him?
The world must’ve stopped turning; the sun is falling down from the sky. Pigs are outside flying through the air as if they’ve been doing so for centuries.
Jotaro Kujo’s smiling unprompted.
No, seriously, you can tell he’s anticipating something when the tiniest of smiles plays on his lips for no immediate reason. Generally, he also seems less annoyed at the world when he’s feeling excited.
Those are good enough indicators on their own, but there’s also the fact that he talked your ear off about whatever it is he’s looking forward to the night prior.
“Talked your ear off,” by the way, translates to mumbling out no more than four sentences on the matter.
If you were anyone else, they likely wouldn’t notice a difference. But you do, knowing Jotaro better than he knows himself at times.
Achievements and advancements within his career is what often excites him as an adult. A rare visit from an old-friend such as Polnareff is also bound to put him in a good mood. And finally returning home from a long trip away is bound to make his eyes shine.
When he was still a young delinquent, these reactions were policed to the point where he hardly expressed such things in front of you. But after mellowing out, it’s heartwarming to see more genuine displays of his emotions.
(F)uture - What are his plans for the future? Does he see himself getting married, having kids?
Before you, even getting into a romantic relationship wasn’t on his mind at all.
So it’s more likely that you’re the first to bring things up like marriage or children, then he’ll begin to seriously consider it. If he realizes his wants and needs for the future on his own, you’re still what’s going to be on his mind front and center.
For him, his mind is focused on one thing at a time.
After marrying, he’ll one day think to himself, Huh, usually the next step is having kids. Then he’ll contemplate it, wondering if that’s what he wants.
Jotaro’s the type of individual that never saw such a thing for himself out of youthful disinterest.
But as he grew up and found his relationship with you to be the most important thing in his life, he discovered he truly does wish to have a nuclear family.
It scares him a little, even with your ability as a stand user.
He knows all too well that there are plenty of people that want his head for the conflict in Egypt. It’s something you both have invested a lot of time in investigating side-by-side.
But at the end of the day, his trust in you and knowledge that you’re more powerful as a unit that eventually pushes those worries out of the picture.
And ultimately, what’s important to you becomes important to him. So, although he certainly comes to envision settling down and having a family with you, how you feel on the matter is the final word in his eyes.
(G)ifts - What does he give you as presents? How often does he give gifts?
Birthdays, Christmas, Valentine’s Day and anniversaries is pretty much the only time he gives gifts.
Despite not doing it often, he’s attentive enough and knows you to the point where he’s become quite good at it. He’s not afraid to spend a generous amount of money on you either.
And what his gifts lack in frequency, he certainly makes up for in memory.
Jotaro Kujo never forgets a date. The thought of reminding him doesn’t ever pass through your brain because he’s so consistent with it.
He smartly plans ahead on top of that. Meaning, even if he orders you a gift to be delivered to the house, it will always arrive on time. And if it doesn’t, it’s never on him that it didn’t.
(H)old - How does he hold you? Cuddling, sleeping, holding hands…
Holding hands has long been his preferred (and only) form of PDA.
Especially when you were younger and still dating, it was a statement to everyone around you. That yes, you’re both taken and happy to be together.
By the time you both mature into the relationship, it’s already an established habit. Now, he simply does it because he loves you and is happily aquatinted with your fingers intertwined with his.
Yes, part of him still wants everyone to know. But he cares a lot less about his reputation at this point in his life.
When cuddling, he mainly likes holding you close to him rather than it being the other way around. Having your head rest on his chest provides him a sense of comfort that’s irreplaceable.
That said, there are times when he’d like to lean on you or plant his head in your lap. It’s usually after a long, stressful day that he’ll seek out such a thing.
After dinner is usually time for you both to curl up, snuggled together in front of the TV. During the weekend, when neither of you are busy, you’ll find yourselves clinging to each other during the afternoon as well.
He doesn’t much care for cuddling you in bed, though. Jotaro likes to stretch out in his sleep and not be locked into on position the whole night.
“I cuddled with you all day, why would you need me to do it now when I’m trying to sleep?”
Although, if you’ve had a particularly rough day or if you haven’t seen one another for a while, he’ll bring you into his arms at night. Bending his legs forward, he’ll tangle them with yours as he spoons you.
(I)deal - What’s his ideal date like?
Heh, any date with you is ideal, babyboy/babygirl.
Jokes aside, he really doesn’t give a shit.
Planning dates with him may make you want to pull your hair out. He doesn’t care- whatever you want to do works for him.
You want to go out to eat? Fine with him, he’s getting hungry anyways. Want to go watch a movie? No problem; he’ll even pay for your ticket. Or would you rather stay in, curl up together in bed reading beside one another? Perfect, as long as he’s sitting close.
Jotaro doesn’t really understand why you may grow sick of always having to pick, and you’ll likely have to explain it to him.
Whenever he does make plans, it’s almost always something you’ve done together before and therefore is confident you’ll enjoy yourself.
His one no-go for a date is going to an amusement park.
Everything is way overpriced, the lines are too long, and the obnoxious kids littered around the place will set back his desire to have children for years.
(J)ealousy - Does he get jealous easily? How does he handle it?
When you were dating- absolutely.
Not only was he a little more insecure about the future of your relationship, but he also felt the need to keep up his tough-guy persona.
It has always been extremely rare for him to get violent due to jealousy, though.
Instead, he grew dangerously quiet and wrapped an arm around your shoulders protectively.
That said, he wasn’t ever opposed to getting violent. If it ever got to the point where someone was explicitly hitting on you in front of him, one glance at the uncomfortable look on your face, and he’s not afraid to start throwing around vague threats.
In adulthood, and once married, he feels less inclined to posture.
If someone’s hitting on you, he’s more likely to approach the situation calmly and make a point to introduce himself as your husband.
Having a naturally intimidating face doesn’t often lead to others pushing it.
And when he gets jealous in later years, he’s simply going to wait patiently until you get home. Not exactly grow silent like he used to, but shoot you knowing glances instead.
He waits until your both home before doing anything outright. That’s when he’ll grab your hand and lead you to the bedroom. Of course, he knows by now that you love him, but a night of reminding you how much you mean to him certainly doesn’t hurt…
(K)isses - How does he like to kiss you? How often does he kiss you?
For the first month into the relationship, he’d settle for merely kissing you on the cheek.
He’d plant one there, quickly moving away in order to tug the brim of his hat down and cover his face.
You’re likely the one to have instigated the first kiss with him. He didn’t know how to approach; didn’t know how to ask.
After that threshold was broken, he easily prefers on-the-mouth kisses.
Jotaro will still give you kisses on the cheek from time to time, especially in front of family or friends as to not push it PDA wise.
But he’ll likely give you a kiss on the mouth, even if brief, at least once a day. It’s usually after he or you arrive home from work, greeting you with the affectionate action.
Or he’ll give you a quick kiss goodnight before the both of you settle into bed.
Plus, he’s naturally always been a pretty good kisser. Talented bastard.
(L)ove - How does he show you he loves you?
By being a constant presence in your life.
“I’m here, aren’t I? Of course I love you,” he tells you, as if it’s a no-brainer.
He won’t say it out loud, but it’s not just the fact that he’s there, it’s how. Jotaro is very much a show rather than tell type of man.
Acts of service is the primary love language he expresses.
He does your laundry for you unprompted, and in fact, takes care of a lot of the household duties without you needing to ask. He knows you very well, and thus takes care of tasks you know you’ll appreciate not having to do.
He doesn’t make a point of it either. Jotaro rarely boasts about doing such things, and often you’re left to find out on your own.
His deep trust in you is also a way you know he loves you.
With knowing one another for as long as you have, the bond is impossibly strong. Jotaro doesn’t think twice before informing you about his struggles, big or small. Not because he expects you to solve all his problems, but because he values transparency.
(M)elt - What do you do that absolutely makes him melt?
When you respond to his emotions without him needing to say a word, Jotaro’s heart warms.
This once again ties in with how well you know each other.
You’re so good at reading him that he sometimes tricks himself into thinking you may be able to read his mind.
He mentioned it once offhandedly, not even meaning to say it out loud. You’re lighthearted reaction was a little embarrassing for him, but it’s a cherished memory for you.
Not only that, but the fact that you get along seamlessly with his mother honestly brings him a sense of joy he cannot describe.
The only thing he can to think to say on the matter is that family’s important to him. The implication of the statement is implied: You being able to get along with his mother and extended family as well has him melting on the spot.
Bonus points if you’re good with kids too. Namely because Jotaro… is not.
(N)icknames - What does he call you, and what does he like being called?
Not really one for giving pet names, he simply calls you by your name or a preferred nickname.
On rare occasions, when he’s feeling particularly teasing or playful, he’ll call you ‘honey.’ Those moments are few and far between, though.
Other than that, it’s usually just your name he sticks with.
After growing up, and especially after receiving his degree, not many people still refer to him as JoJo. He doesn’t think much of the transition, but he does like it if you still call him JoJo from time to time.
It reminds him of your longtime bond; the nostalgic foundation of friendship you share.
If you like using pet names for him, he’ll roll his eyes and pretend as if he doesn’t like it. That said, he greatly appreciates it if you refer to him by name in front of others or in a serious situation.
(O)bvious - How obvious does he make it that he likes you?
When he was simply harboring a crush on you, it was not at all obvious.
Back during the trip to Egypt, Jotaro’s developing crush went unnoticed. Not even his own grandfather could tell. Hell, Jotaro himself couldn’t even really recognize it at first. It went unnoticed by everyone.
Well, everyone except Kakyoin.
It puts a strain on Jotaro’s heart, remembering it was Kakyoin that first noticed his feelings for you.
The redhead was very respectful about it, but still felt the need to stick his nose in Jotaro’s business in private. Despite him denying the crush up and down, Kakyoin’s encouragement still got to him a bit in the end.
During rough nights, where the past is painfully kept in the front of his mind, Jotaro wonders if him becoming just a little more obvious with his affection for you is done in part as some sort of way to prove himself to his departed friend.
(P)ets - Does he have pets? Does he want them?
Jotaro is so the definition of someone who swears up and down he doesn’t want a pet, yet ultimately ends up loving one unconditionally.
If you want one, he’ll dig his heels into the dirt for months. He’s too busy, you’re too busy… all prepackaged excuses for why it wouldn’t be a good idea.
But you eventually convince him to get one, the stoic man finally relenting with a long sigh.
He prefers dogs over any other kind of pet, so if that’s what you want, it’ll be slightly easier to convince him.
Without ever even trying to do so, it’s him who becomes the pet’s favorite.
The closeness is what leads him to giving in and only admitting to himself that he likes the pet. He’ll never admit it to you (as if you can’t tell); far too stubborn for his own good.
Jotaro has a one-pet-at-a-time policy, though. That’s nonnegotiable.
(Q)uiet - How are the calm, quiet moments with him?
To be honest, it’s a staple of your relationship.
Jotaro finally considered it love once fully wrapping his head around the fact that neither of you felt the need to always be making conversation with one another.
Comfortable silence is cherished by him. Whether you’ve always been the same, or come to have understood that with time, the fact that you’ve come to embrace that aspect of his personality led him to opening himself up to you more during conversations.
Quieter moments occur a lot during the weekend, when there’s no work and only relaxing. You also just enjoy each other’s company without much talking when getting ready for bed.
Sometimes, he doesn’t even say goodnight to you.
Instead, he gently tugs a few strands of hair from your face and cups your jaw momentarily. A gentle glimmer within his pupils reveal much more than any words could express.
The quietness and tranquility present in a lot of the time you spend together is part of his assessment in realizing you were the one.
(R)omance - How romantic is he? What is his go-to ways of being romantic?
…Romantic? Jotaro…?
He’s really responsive to your preferences in romance. Well, depending on how you present them.
He’s no mind-reader and not exactly the best at observing others. Remember the Yellow Terence arc? Yeah… he’s not exactly a detective. If you want him to take a different approach in how romantic he is, subtly nudging him in the right direction isn’t going to work.
Instead, telling him directly what it is you like is much easier for him to wrap his head around. Jotaro never takes such comments personally, seeing as being upfront is preferable for him.
A year or two into the relationship, and he’s much better acquainted with what you like best.
Confident he understands you well, it naturally brings out a more romantic side of him. He’s only deeply observant with those closest to him (think Holly), so once you both reach that point, it brings out a surprisingly sweeter side of him.
(S)afe - What makes him feel safe and comfortable around you?
Once again, it’s got a lot to do with your history together.
Jotaro knows he can rely on you. He’s been keenly aware of your reliability since the late 80s.
Safety for Jotaro means tranquility, and a deep sense of comfort- along with a familiar environment. You provide him these warm feelings; seemingly just by your very presence.
When the two of you are at home together, it doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’s perfectly content. Simply glancing in your direction grounds him, and can calm buried anxieties.
That’s all he really needs to feel safe: You.
Visiting Morioh turns out to be a far more long and arduous task than either of you originally expected. But with you at his side, Jotaro rarely felt himself getting too worked up.
Spending late nights together at the hotel was all he needed to reset his brain, able to start the next day without much complaint over spending his time with unruly teenagers.
(T)end - How does he act when you’re hurt/sick, and vise versa?
If anyone hurts you, they may as well count their days. It doesn’t necessarily matter if you’re assertive all on your own; Jotaro’s going to have something (at the very least) to say.
Hell, knowing him, if someone’s troubling you all he usually has to do is look in their general direction. His entire demeanor gives off the impression of “Don’t fuck with me” and he’s all for standing up for you.
Even during the trip to Egypt, he seemed much looser with his grip on his temper when you were put into the line of fire.
If you’re sick, Jotaro’s surprisingly doting.
He’s extremely adamant that you stay home and rest up. Any reason you may have to get out of bed he’ll take care of himself without question.
If he can’t be there to take care of you (likely due to work), he’ll call once or twice while he’s gone just to check in on how you’re doing.
It’s quite ironic, considering how he acts when hurt or sick.
“I’m not sick,” he’ll insist in a scratchy voice, despite a reddened face and clearly runny nose.
“I’m fine.” Yeah, sure, Jotaro. Never mind the deep gash actively gushing blood all over his left arm.
Attempts to take care of him in anyway will be met with pushback, no matter how old he gets.
One reminder of how much he babies you when you’re feeling unwell is all it usually takes for him to begrudgingly accept your offer to help.
He’ll be silent throughout, but his refusal to look you in the eye is a dead giveaway that he secretly likes being taken care of every now and then.
(U)nique - What’s an unusual thing about him that’s oddly charming?
“JoJo… do you need something?”
“No.”
“Then why’re you staring at me?”
“I’m not.”
“You’ve been looking at me for the past ten minutes!”
(V)ariety - Does he prefer to keep the same routine, or spice things up?
Jotaro is a creature of habit.
He certainly likes to keep a usual routine. Having a familiar structure makes him feel comfortable and as though his life is maintaining stability.
Too many surprises or shocking events happening at once is at best annoying for him, and downright unnerving at worst.
He is a little conscious of this aspect of himself; part of him worries you may grow board of him.
That worry is unfounded, though. Especially considering something new or a shake up to the usual routine is accepted by him if you’re the one to do so. He’s so naturally considerate that he doesn’t even think of that being a factor.
Luckily for the both of you, it’s not difficult for you to ease his worries.
(W)ild Card - A random fluff headcanon
Jotaro’s a big fan of manga and usually invests his free time in catching up on his favorite series’s anime incarnations.
He’s been reading Shonen since he was young, and that interest carries over into his adult years.
Jotaro will certainly sit you down and make ask you to watch his some of his favorite anime with him. Saturday afternoons is his favorite time to curl up next to you on the couch and watch for a few hours.
Definitely the type to always sneak peaks at your reactions out of the corner of his eye. He hardly is the type to speak during a show or movie, but is glad to discuss with you after the fact. Please, discuss with him after the fact.
If you’re also into manga and anime before meeting him, he’s internally overjoyed. However, he is a bit critical.
Not to the point of being rude, but certainly dismissive of it at first if your tastes don’t exactly align with his. Jotaro has taste, and is quite proud of his selections. It may come off as a bit elitist… because it is.
He loosens up with time, and may even give some of your favorites a chance. He will never admit out loud to actually liking them, even after you catch him intently watching an anime of your suggestion on his own.
(X)OXO - Is he affectionate in public? How much PDA does he show?
Despite not being too outwardly affectionate or into PDA, everyone close to him can easily tell you’re together once a relationship is formed.
Joseph cheekily goes on and on about how he “totally saw this coming” (no he didn’t). Polnareff is patting the both of you on the back with a big, goofy grin (his world is crashing around him).
When the Duwang gang first met you, the teens of the group were going mental upon the realization that… holy shit… he’s married… !?
The group’s bewilderment was mostly kept to internal struggles due to both Jotaro’s harsh expression at any question relating to how on earth he managed to marry such a lovely individual.
Josuke specifically thought he was going to have a stroke. Unlike the others, he’s much more prone to speaking his mind even after the implicit warning.
After getting over his initial shock, he’ll berate his nephew for not previously telling him about his partner.
(Y)earning - How does he cope when he’s missing you?
It takes everything in him not to call you.
He holds out the first day of you being gone. It’s no trouble that he’s cooking without your presence, not at all. Ignoring the fact that he’s eating dinner without you cheerily filling him in on your day is no problem. Getting ready for bed alone is no big deal.
Yeah… definitely.
Jotaro will lay himself down in bed, facing your usually taken up side. He’ll find his hand reaching out m at the empty space, fingers curling around the sheets. A frown finds its way onto his tired face.
He’s calling you the next day. And after finally caving, he’s sure to give you a call each day or every other day after that.
Past events has made him wary of being separated from you for too long. And even though he logically knows he’s fussing over nothing, he still cannot help but cave to the small worry growing in the back of his mind.
That said, it isn’t too difficult for him to distract himself from missing you.
But being alone during moments that he’d usually share with you is enough to remind him of your absence.
(Z)eal - Is he willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
Yes, he will undoubtedly go to great lengths for you.
One could argue that, having been a part of the Crusaders yourself, an aspect of his actions against DIO were also influenced by a desire to avenge you as well as the others.
Jotaro isn’t above getting violent in your behalf, and would certainly jump through several hoops as long as your safe.
Part of this is because there’s an unspoken mutual understanding that you’d do the same for him (and you certainly have).
But more than that, Jotaro has a small circle of individuals that he would likely do just about anything for. And after everything the both of you have been through together, you’re at the top of that list.
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kedreeva · 3 months
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Sorry about the color mix up. I appreciate the reply and additional info! I guess bc I know nothing about peafowl (and the fact i dont breed any type of animal), I'm having a hard time understanding how being sterile would be unethical. I do somewhat get the shortened life span. I really would like to understand this, I just sometimes need stuff explained like I'm 5.
Up front, there's no "somewhat get" to a shortened lifespan being caused by a mutation in captive populations. If an animal is capable of living 20+ years (and some live 30+ or even 40+!) and some non-essential mutation is causing them to live 7-9 years, it's flat out absolutely unethical to breed that mutation, full stop, regardless of anything else going on. That's indicative of a MAJOR problem in their genetics. There's NO ethical reason to breed that because humans like how it looks. So, even without the sterility, these birds would 100% be unethical to produce.
The short answer on sterility is this: we don't know WHY they are sterile, but they shouldn't be, and that means something has gone wrong. When something goes wrong with an animal, and it's something genetic that can be passed on, the ONLY responsible and ethical thing for a breeder to do is to stop using that animal for breeding and closely monitor any already-produced offspring for signs of the problem, and likely not breed them, either.
The longer more complicated answer is this: sometimes it's possible to separate the problem from the aesthetic when it comes to morphs, like it was for cameo + blindness, but sometimes it's NOT, like it wasn't for spider + head wobble for ball pythons. In those instances, it's... difficult. Because you're LIKELY going to produce animals that suffer the same problem as their parent(s), in the attempt to separate the problem from the aesthetic, and sometimes that's ALL you're going to produce. As a breeder, it's your absolute responsibility to NOT release the offspring into the general population, where the problem may be replicated without control, and to keep or cull the affected individuals if the problem cannot be separated from the aesthetic, or AT BEST find them guaranteed pet-only homes that will NEVER breed them.
Sometimes the problem IS purely aesthetic or harmless, like it was for pied in peafowl, and sometimes it's not, like it was for vitiligo in peafowl. The problem comes when you ASSUME a mutation is the first, and treat it like the first when it's really the second. This has caused FAR reaching consequences in the peafowl community, and I'm sure in others, where now the autoimmune disease that first bronze had has been passed into genpop by folks who thought they were breeding a harmless new variation of pied. Hybrid animals are often sterile (not in peafowl though, hybrid cristatus-muticus birds are fertile) because of a mismatch in chromosome pairing numbers, and often that's harmless. So, in some cases sterility is not an issue because it's the expected result or is otherwise harmless... but in the case of peafowl, it's NOT an expected result and we don't know if it's caused by something harmless or not.
Some species, like mice and horses and cattle and dogs, genetic testing and DNA mapping done with millions of dollars has proven that while some stuff isn't purely aesthetic, it also doesn't cause harm to the animal in a way that affects quality of life or that can be adapted for in captive care. For example, in chickens, the frizzle gene causes curled feathers in single copy and an absence of feathers in double copy. This gene is considered ethical to produce IF the breeding is done responsibly by putting a single copy bird over a zero copy bird, which produces smooth coats and frizzle coats, but it is unethical to produce double frizzles (called "frazzles") because frazzles cannot thermoregulate, can easily sunburn, and easily suffer skin injury during normal chicken activity.
For peafowl, we have NO genetic testing. We do not have the genome mapped. As far as I know there's a research group working on it (mostly for green peafowl though, in conservation efforts), but that's not remotely finished or available to the public to test anything. We don't know where any of the morph mutations sit, or what is causing them or if they do anything beyond just change the color. Sometimes color mutations are the result of malfunctions in enzymes. For charcoal specifically, we don't know what the mutation does, besides what we can observe on the outside- the birds have half or less the lifespan of normal birds, poor feather quality, and the hens are sterile. Is the sterility harmless like it is in some hybrid animals, or is it actually a major organ failing? Is it the only major organ that fails due to this mutation, or is it just the first sign of their shortened lives? Is it some deficiency in something the birds need to be healthy? Does it hurt the bird? We don't know, but we do know the mutation and the problems (multiple, please do NOT forget that this is one OF MORE THAN ONE problems) can't be separated, and so until we do know why and whether it's harmless or not, the ONLY ethical response to seeing a problem in a major organ's function linked inextricably to a mutation in color is to not propagate that mutation. If someone wanted to fork over the millions it takes to sequence and map genomes and then determine exactly what is going on with peafowl, that would be nice and good, but I don't see that happening. When I win the lottery big, I'll be doing it, but til then we can only follow normal breeding guidelines
Also, to put this into perspective... peafowl mature sexually around 3 years old. They are chicks until the turn of the new year following their hatch. They are yearlings that year, and immature 2yo next year. They aren't actually considered fully grown until 6 years old, and should live another 14+ years. Charcoal birds die a 1-3 years after full maturity. Is it a coincidence that they fail to thrive shortly after full sexual maturity, or is it linked? Again, we don't know. We don't know if the sterility is fine or if it's just a symptom of something worse.
Even without the sterility, though, charcoal has enough issues it would be unethical. If it was JUST sterility, with no other deleterious effects, then maybe it would be different. But it's not.
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superlarva · 8 months
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They're totally paying attention! :)
Welp, I'm starting to think I don't know what day Sunday is...
Regardless, here's Chapter 9 - School Visit of Raising Dominoes.
Prologue: 00 Previous chapter: 08 Next chapter: 10
Summary: Rex and Fives visit the local elementary school.
CW: Implied/referenced child abuse, a very minor curse (I wouldn't really consider it a curse, but just to be careful... also, it's said in narration, not dialogue)
Chapter 9 – School Visit
“I want to see Echo.”
“I know, bud,” Rex sighed, trying not to let the exasperation show in his voice.
Fives had been at it since he woke, refusing to move, eat, or say anything that did not express his want for his twin. Now they sat in the elementary school parking lot, two hours late for their appointment with the principal.
“Fives?”
The boy did not stir from his position curled up in his car seat.
“Fives, look at me,” Rex said, exhaustion allowing some of his usual sternness to slip into his tone.
The kid’s shoulders tensed and his eyes reluctantly wandered over to Rex’s.
“We are going to go see Echo as soon as his doctor tells me it’s safe to see him, okay?”
“Want Echo n-now,” Fives whispered.
His words lacked the high-pitched whiney quality Rex had been expecting and he blinked dumbly, taken aback. The last thing Rex wanted to do was keep the brothers apart. He knew the feeling that accompanied the separation from one you admire, trust, need. He knew the feeling well, and he would not wish it on his worst enemy, let alone his child.
Rex slumped back into the seat and began unconsciously picking at the sleeve of his jacket, mind whirring and leg bouncing erratically, “When- when I was your age, me and your Uncle Cody—er, Cody and I—we, uh, didn’t really have a mom or dad to take care of us.”
Rex paused to take a breath, still unsure where exactly he was going with this story. He could feel Fives’s eyes boring into him and he squirmed, unable to meet the boy’s gaze, “We got sent to a lot of different homes where different people would, uh, take care of us, but sometimes… sometimes they would split us up. Sometimes we wouldn’t go together.”
Rex stole a quick glance at Fives. The boy was staring, waiting for him to continue. Rex attempted a smile, but could not help but feel like it more resembled a grimace. He sighed, hands moving to fidget with the zipper of his jacket, “Every time they separated us, I felt so lost and powerless. There was nothing- nothing I could do, and I never knew when I would be able to see Cody again. And- and I hated it. It was the worst feeling.”
Rex turned to meet Fives’s eyes, “So, I get it. I really do. I know you want to see Echo. I want to see him too. If I could do anything I wanted, I’d bring you to him right now.”
“…you would?” Fives asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“I would.”
“I-I don’t want to go without Echo,” Fives mumbled, turning his attention towards the elementary school.
“We have to go take a look at the school because I told them we were coming and they are all super excited to meet you,” Rex said, starting to regret his decision to not include Fives when he and Cody called the school to set up a meeting and tour. “It’s going to be really fun. They’re going to show you around and tell you about all the cool things you’re going to learn.”
Fives made a face, “Echo should be here. Not me.”
Rex felt as if he had just been stabbed in the heart, “No. No, you should be here.”
Fives scoffed and turned his head so his face was obscured from Rex’s view.
“No, Fives, listen to me. You should be here. Echo should be here too, but you should be here. I- you-” Rex sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. He wished Cody were here. He would know what to say.
Cut would know what to say too. He had kids. Little rascals, if Rex remembered correctly. He had to make everything into a game for those kids to do anything. Putting away dishes: who can stack them the neatest? Time to get in the car: who can get there the fastest?
A game.
Of course.
Rex lifted his head out of his hands, “If we go in and take the tour and you remember what they tell you, then when we go see Echo this weekend, you can tell him all about it. Think he would like that?”
Fives turned to face Rex again and hesitated, eyes searching Rex’s for something, before nodding seriously.
Rex smiled, “Sounds like a deal.”
The secretary had them wait on a bench outside the principal’s office until he was ready for them. Given the fact that they had arrived later than expected, Rex had thought the principal would leave them waiting, but almost as soon as they sat, the door opened.
“Good afternoon, young one. I am Mr. Plo Koon,” A tall man that Rex recognized as the principal of the school greeted, smiling down fondly at Fives.
The boy jumped to his feet and stood stiff as a board, almost as if he were standing at attention, “G-good afternoon, Mr. Plo Koon, s-sir.”
The principal’s smile deepened, “My, what lovely manners. You must be Fives?”
Fives nodded, “Yes, sir.”
“Many of the students here call me Mr. Plo, but ‘Mr. Plo Koon’ or ‘sir’ is alright too if that’s what you’re comfortable with.”
“Oh-Okay Mr.- Mr.-” Fives looked up at Rex uncertainly.
Rex nodded and smiled encouragingly.
Fives turned back to the principal, “Okay, Mr. Plo.”
“Very good,” Plo said, beaming down at Fives and clasping his hands together. He then shut the door to his office and began leading them down the hall, “Shall we begin our tour?”
The school was nice. It had clearly been remodeled a few years ago as it had a very modern interior design and was relatively free from wear and tear that would denote that it was the home of tiny grade schoolers for eight hours a day.
They were shown the cafeteria, auditorium, gym, library, and the rooms for the various different extracurricular activities like art and music, all of which Fives marveled at for their large open spaces, walls and walls of books, or amenities.
Mr. Plo was clearly taking pleasure in Fives’s wonder and Rex could not help but enjoy the boy’s delight as well. He was glad that the tour had allowed his mind to wander from Echo, even if just for the good part of an hour.
At the end of the tour, they circled back around and stopped outside of one of the classrooms they had passed on the way to the library. Plo turned to address Rex and Fives, “This one of our second-grade classrooms. If you want, the teacher of this class volunteered to let us sit in on a few minutes so that you could see what it would be like to go here. Would you like that?”
Fives nodded eagerly.
The principal smiled and opened the door. Fives bounded in after him and Rex followed quickly, pulling the door shut behind them.
When Rex looked up he found a class full of 7 year old twisting around in their desks trying to get a good look at him and Fives. The class was eerily quiet and Rex was thankful when the teacher standing at the front broke the silence, “Good afternoon, Principal Plo.”
Mr. Plo nodded, “Good afternoon, 99. Good afternoon, second grade.”
The teacher—99—led the class in a chorus of “Good afternoon, Principal Plo” as Plo ushered them to an empty table in the corner of the class.
Once they were seated, 99 resumed his lesson and Rex scanned the classroom. It was as well put together as the rest of the school. It was bright and colorful, and there was plenty of stimulus for young children.
Rex also got a better look at 99. At first from his voice, stature, and the wrinkles lining his face, Rex had thought the man old like his name, but as he looked closer, he realized the man was not elderly, just had some sort of facial deformity. Perhaps a muscle one as well, as he looked awfully thin and hunched over oddly as he walked.
The children in the class appeared to be engaged and attentive, save for a group of similar-looking boys in the other back corner.
The big bald boy was playing with a toy half hidden under his desk, his face lighting up with joy occasionally from his own, internal musings. His stature was intimidating for a seven-year-old, but such an innocence played out in his eyes that Rex had to believe the kid would not hurt a fly. At least, not on purpose.
The second boy had long wavy hair, pushed back by a red bandana. He was staring out the window, boredom etched across his features. Rex thought he looked a little like Cody when he was fed up someone’s bullshit.
The scrawny one with glasses appeared to be scribbling notes in the margins of a book. He might have been taking notes on 99’s instructions, but Rex doubted it, as no other children had books out to take notes in and the boy was hunched over it like it was the only thing that existed.
The fourth boy was sleeping. Wispy white hair sticking out in all directions as his head rested on his folded arms across the desk. Even through the oversized hoodie Rex could tell by the boy’s pointy elbows that he practically had Fives and Echo beat for the “most emaciated kid of the week” award.
Mr. Plo noticed the direction of Rex’s gaze and gave him a small nudge, “Those are the quadruplets. They transferred here this year. Bit of a special case, those boys. Not so different from yours, perhaps.”
Rex took one last look at the brothers before turning his attention back to 99’s mini lecture. He hoped Fives and Echo would behave differently from those boys at school. He hoped they would at least try to pay attention.
After sitting in on 99’s lesson, Mr. Plo lead them back to his office and had them sit across the desk from him. He laced his fingers together and leaned his elbows on the desk, smiling warmly at Fives, “Did you enjoy the tour?”
The boy nodded, “Mm-hmm!”
“I’m glad,” Plo glanced quickly over at Rex, then turned his attention back to Fives, “Now, your father told me that you’ve never been to school before, is that true?”
Fives looked to Rex before cautiously letting out a small “uh-huh.”
“Okay, that’s alright. Would it be okay if I asked you a few questions?”
“What kind of questions?”
“Well, your dad told me you were really good at math, so I wanted to ask you some math questions. Then we might play a couple games. Is that alright?”
Fives’s brow crinkled and his eyes darted between Mr. Plo and Rex. From the look Rex didn’t doubt Fives knew this was a test, but the boy eventually shrugged and muttered a quiet affirmative.
Fives made it all the way through to multiplication before he started having problems answering the principal’s questions. He clearly did not know his times tables, but from what Rex could remember, that still meant he was on track for second grade.
After the math questions Mr. Plo pulled out a few logic puzzles and had Fives complete them. Fives seemed to do so without difficulty, filling in the picture with the correct puzzle pieces and picking the right color to finish the pattern.
The principal seemed quite pleased with the boy as he put the puzzles away, “You did a very good job, Fives. I just have one more question for you if that’s okay.”
Fives nodded, though Rex could not help but notice that the kid looked tired.
Mr. Plo slid a piece of paper and a pencil across the table, “Could you write your name for me?”
The boy visibly deflated a bit, but he said nothing and reached out, gripping the pencil awkwardly. At first Rex had no clue what Fives was writing; the lines were large and wobbly, curving in places they should not. By the time the boy got to the second vaguely “s” shaped letter, Rex realized what “name” he had been writing and reached out gently to still Fives’s arm.
Large brown eyes looked up at Rex in confusion.
“Fives…” Rex started softly, “That’s your other name. Could you spell ‘Fives’ for us?”
Fives squirmed in his seat, looking down at the paper for a long moment before meeting Rex’s eyes, “This is the only one I’ve seen before.”
“Okay, that’s okay,” Rex whispered, and he honestly was not sure if that was for his son’s benefit or his own. He reached out and flipped the paper over, “Do you know what letter ‘Fives’ starts with?”
The boy opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The room was so quiet Rex could practically hear the tears welling in Fives’s eyes before he saw them. He sprung into action, scooping up the already shaking boy and shushing him softly, hoping to stay the torrent of “I’m sorry”s that were sure to follow.
“It’s okay,” Rex soothed, shooting an apologetic look to Plo before turning his attention back to Fives. “It’s alright if you don’t know. Nobody’s mad. I’m not mad. Mr. Plo’s not mad. It’s okay.”
Fives sniffled against Rex, but Rex could tell the boy was already calming down, his breathing slowing to his usual rhythm.
Rex set Fives back down in his seat, but kept his hand on the boy's shoulder, “Today was a tough day, but you did a really good job, okay? A really good job. I’m proud of you.”
Fives wiped at his eyes, his ears turning a bit red as he mumbled a shy thanks.
Mr. Plo cleared his throat, “Thank you so much for answering my questions, Fives.”
The boy nodded.
Plo continued, “I would like to place you in the class that we sat in on today, if that sounds good to you. The other children will be your age and will be on similar levels in most subjects.”
The principal paused and studied Fives, “Now, Fives, you’re a smart boy and you’re probably going to notice that the other kids in your class are better at reading than you, but can I tell you a secret?”
Fives frowned and looked from Rex to Mr. Plo.
Plo leaned over the desk and lowered his voice conspiratorially, “Your intuition and logic skills are beyond those of many children twice your age.”
Fives shifted in his seat, “R-really?”
The principal nodded, “It’s quite impressive. You'll be reading in no time.”
Fives left the school with higher spirits than when he had entered and that was enough to convince Rex it was the right place to send the twins. As he was setting up for Fives to start the next week and for Echo to start after the holiday break his phone rang.
It was Kix.
"What?" Fives asked after Rex hung up.
Rex smiled, "Go get in the car, we're going to go see your brother."
@marierg @stressed-cherry @ffdemon @renton6echo @bambambunny @tearfulsolace @rndmpeep @brokenphoenix99 @nerdy-valkyrie @xylionet @tazmbc1 @eyayah123 @the-bad-batch-baroness @sarcastic-nebula @ihaventpickedausername @sexysmeagolshitposting @emma-1409 @marcadamia
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henrioo · 27 days
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Hey! Could I please request some fluffy scenarios about Shanks X Male and Mihawk X Male Reader (separately if that's okay) who's love languages are physical touch and quality time, but is also struggling with anxiety? Sorry for going on anon, this is my first time ever requesting and I'm a little nervous lol
°•*⁀➷ TOO MUCH LOVE, TOO MANY THOUGHTS : SHANKS AND MIHAWK
꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : You love your partners, you really do, but sometimes those voices inside you gain control over your body, making you withdraw into your own fears and feelings. Good for you that your partners won't give up on having you by their side.
꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : MALE! READER, M! READER, NOT POLY! The reader can be Trans or Cis, talking about homophobia but nothing happens, a lot of talk about insecurities in a romantic relationship, talk about anxiety and fear
꒰ WC ꒱ : 2,4k at all, 1k for Shanks and 1,4 for Mihawk
꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Hey thanks for this request! It had been some months and I don't have any idea if you are still there but anyway thanks for that, that request is part of the first ask I received when I opened for male reader so this means a lot to me. The ask doesn't talk too much about the insecurities of the reader because I wanted that you guys could imagine your own, here talk more about how they would handle and help you. Enjoy!
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★彡 Shanks
It may not seem like it, but the redhead is a master at reading people, all it takes is a few nervous glances and body language and he knows exactly what the problem is.
However, while he knows what the problem is, he is not that good at knowing the best solution for it. Part of him just wants to grab you and say "stop with that and let's just kiss." Luckily he knows that not everyone works like him, so he is able to understand that you may have different limits and such a direct approach can make the situation worse and even push you away from him.
So, firstly, he tries to understand exactly why you are suffering from so much anxiety when it comes to spending time with him and having more physical touch. Are you ashamed or afraid of doing PDA because of prejudiced looks since you are both men? Are you afraid that he will reject you if you show this need for time and affection? Are you publicly ashamed of others? Regardless of what's going through your head, Shanks wants to understand so he can give you truer love.
When he has a little idea or some theories, which he will achieve after observing you a lot in various situations and talking to all the other men on the ship, he will try to talk to you. Of course he will never force you into anything, he just wants to try to understand and maybe ease this weight that you are carrying alone. Even if you just want to scream or ramble without knowing exactly how to express your feelings and anxiety, he wants to be there for you, to show that he is willing to listen to you, understand you, especially validate and support you. He wants you to see that he is there for you in every situation.
Whether you decide to speak or not, the outcome changes very little. The difference being that having talked to you, Shanks will be able to understand you more easily, thus being able to make fewer mistakes in his attempts to help you and make you more comfortable with everything. If you don't decide to talk, he will be forced to make several trials and errors on how to make the environment more favorable for you to feel comfortable and overcome your anxiety, so you can give in to your desires for physical touch and spend more time with him. quietly.
Since you may have anxiety about initiating contact, Shanks will do all the hard work for you. Which, let's be honest, isn't very difficult, the redhead adores you like a loyal servant to a god, he can't keep his hands off you. It may seem funny to others to see a pirate as strong as a stray puppy following you, especially when they discover that Shanks' lover is a man, but what can he do... He is a man completely in love with you .
It's not uncommon for him to go after you, but if he notices your difficulty in initiating contact, he'll go even more after his presence. Every time he is free on the ship he will come after you, suggesting that you play a game, have a snack, talk, dance, sleep, he never runs out of ideas knowing that coming up first with a goal can make you calmer since you will just need to go with the flow and not think about everything on your own.
With physical touch, the difference is that he will pay extra attention to your comfort, it is normal that every time you are on land he is glued to your side. Holding hands or a hand around his waist practically hugging you, he just doesn't want to let go of you. In bars or any other establishment he would like to sit next to you, he would never put you on his lap, wishing that this choice came from you first. Shanks doesn't want you to feel humiliated or insulted by him wanting you on his lap, especially if you're nervous about showing affection publicly because you're both men.
But that doesn't stop him from having some physical contact, when his hand isn't occupied he'll put it on your thigh or your hand on the table, if he's drinking he'll leave his foot close to yours or even leave his foot close to yours. His leg pressed against yours. Even if it's small touches, he wants to show you that he wants to touch you just as much as you want to touch him. On the ship things are easier, he can simply hide the two of you in your shared room, thus avoiding the teasing of your crewmates and also having a little more privacy.
In the end he will just try to demonstrate that he wants your touch and attention as much as you do. He knows that actions can be stronger than words and he firmly believes that, so he will always be by your side to show you that he would never turn down spending time with you or having a make-out session. You are his boyfriend, after all! The man he loves and would do anything to see smile, he could never get tired of you.
Shanks' greatest happiness will be seeing you slowly loosen up and work on your anxiety better. When you start spending time together or touching, he will be celebrating inside. In the end, he just wants your attention and for you to show how much you love him, so he will never refuse if you want to spend time together. And even if it takes a while, even if you don't touch him for months, even if you need to talk a lot until you feel more confident, he doesn't mind at all. You are the one he loves and he would do anything for you, no effort is too much, you are worth everything he has to face and suffer, and he will accept it with a smile on his face.
If you think Shanks is easy to notice his difficulties then it only takes Mihawk an instant to notice something wrong. The difference is that the redhead will consider that some of the reasons for your anxiety could be external stimuli such as other people, reputation, shame or fear... Mihawk is a little more insecure at this point.
★彡Mihawk
His early theories for your anxiety and difficulty having quality time and physical touch with him is that the culprit is, well... Him. Are you no longer in love with him? Don't you feel comfortable? Not attracted? Is he not that interesting of a person to spend time with or is he not good at physical touch? It doesn't matter, he would initially think that it must be something he did that caused his estrangement.
He would have a few moments alone to consider everything, perhaps you no longer enjoy being in that castle without anyone's company but his. When he manages to calm his mind and open himself to any possibility, whether good or bad, he finally decides to talk to you. Luckily, Mihawk is extremely verbally expressive and is very good at communicating, so even if you were just rambling and getting lost in your own words, he will be able to understand you or even help you with how to express yourself better.
The conversation may seem a little suffocating due to Mihawk's firm gaze, but you've been his lover for long enough that he only pays attention to you like that. Furthermore, you can see a worried touch and even a loving look if you pay close attention to the way he looks at you.
Other than that, he is extremely patient with you, he will listen to you for as long as necessary and will only speak if you allow it and feel comfortable discussing it at that moment. Then he will try to analyze the entire situation to better understand your fears, insecurity, anything that is making you anxious and pushing you away from him. He will never judge any of your motives or tell you they are silly, no matter if you were just shy, if you were nervous about appearing clingy, if you were too nervous about his beauty? It doesn't make any difference why, if it bothers you in some way, then it's totally important and valid for him.
And just as he doesn't care about the reasons, he also doesn't care about the solutions to help you with your problems. He loves you with all the depth and loyalty he could have, so he is also willing to give his blood and sweat for the good of your relationship. For Mihawk it's more than fair for both lovers to make an effort, especially when one of them is in trouble, so not for a second does he think of you or this whole situation as a burden. He loves you and you love him, you are partners, you are the man he chose to spend the rest of his life with, if he doesn't make the slightest effort in trying to keep the relationship on good terms then he doesn't deserve you. That's why he will always do his best.
After that he will try to make everything easier for you, he might give you a few peaceful days without looking for contact, wanting you to breathe before facing your problems. After that he will begin his plan to slowly make you approach him again and feel comfortable coming to him whenever you want... And well, maybe he will be much happier when he can finally touch you again and spend time with you. , it may not seem like it, but Mihawk also really wants your company and the idea of being without it makes him extremely moody.
He will initially try to recapture the moments together, quality time is easier for Mihawk and he thinks that starting with that is the best way for the two of you to get closer again, after all you wouldn't be forced into any touching if you weren't already completely safe. Then he will reminisce about some of the activities you used to enjoy doing together, be it reading in each other's company during a calm evening, the sound of the fireplace and the birds outside providing a more peaceful environment for you to relax your mind and let go of the anxiety. go away. He will also invite you to garden together. If you don't like getting dirty he will just talk to you and ask for your help. That doesn't make you put your hands in the dirt. However, if you like it, he will be very happy to teach you or listen to his teachings. He will work in the garden while you talk about where you could use those vegetables. If you want, he can also help you make a flower garden or plant anything else you like.
He will also love your company in the kitchen, he may use the excuse of testing new recipes to include you more, maybe he will even try to make something that you like to eat from another island. If you cook, like it or want to learn, he doesn't mind your help either, as long as you are happy and coming out of your shell, forgetting your anxiety and allowing yourself to be comfortable and doing what you love again, he is satisfied. Also, he may start trying to initiate physical touches, if you are a swordsman he will love some sparring sessions with you, although he won't go easy on you. After all, you are a man and a worthy opponent, you can notice that his movements are much more sensual and loving, it is as if he is trying to seduce you, win you over again and using all his body language in favor of this.
If you don't fight or don't want to learn, although Mihawk would love to teach you, he can still think of other activities with physical touch. His favorite is dancing. You will find him the most patient and dedicated partner possible, if you understand dancing he will even let you guide, moving and handling his body as you wish. Furthermore, he could even go into activities outside of his standard if that could help him relax and be calmer with touch. Trying on clothes? You have Dracule's entire wardrobe at your disposal, luckily you are both men so this part is easier. Messing with hair? Of course, go ahead and touch his black hair, if you have longer hair he will enjoy learning how to style it or take care of it.
Other than that, once he notices you getting more comfortable, he'll go back to the subtle physical touches. Mihawk is not the type of lover who devours you in public, but you will always find his hand on your back, either guiding you or just making it clear that he is there. He will also offer his hand to help you get up or down from places, a hand on your shoulder or arm if you are in a situation where he wants to make it obvious that he has you and that he won't let anything bad happen.
He doesn't like more sensual touches in public, so in the privacy of four walls you will have more of that, light touches on your neck or your thigh, but they still won't be perverted touches, just a more romantic and deep touch, something he wants to keep for your eyes only.
Mihawk is a lover who is slower to deal with his anxiety, he in no way wants you to feel pressured, so he will wait with open arms when you are ready to regain intimacy. He'd also hate for you to feel like you're obligated to have this kind of intimacy with him, so he also doesn't mind if you don't like the closeness. In the end the truth is just unique, in Mihawk's eyes you are the perfect man, if you don't like so much intimacy and touching he is satisfied with that, if you like touching and want to be with him 24/7 he will too be more than satisfied. He needs you, everything you give him will be a gift. Therefore, even though he seems like a stoic and even cold man, Mihawk would never deny or be ashamed of your touch, you are the only one who can do whatever you want and he will never be bothered by it.
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corawritesthings · 1 year
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chishiya shuntaro flirting headcanons
(gn!reader, presumed to be in the borderlands.)
okay. let’s talk.
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pov he's looking at you
-this man, in terms of flirting, would be one of two extremes. I will die on both of these hills.
-the first: this man being the most awkward, embarrassing flirter of life.
-picture this if you will. you two meeting at the beach (and I'd imagine in this scenario you’d eventually get to know each other well, he’s crushing on you, you’re crushing on him, that kind of thing.)
-kuina probably pushed him into making a move—because you know it’d be a cold day in hell for him to approach you himself—and thus begins the STRANGEST COURTSHIP SAGA OF YOUR LIFE.
-he’d probably attempt giving you gifts (gifts here meaning literal weapons he created) and he’d kind of just hand it to you quietly and walk off, leaving you with nothing but confusion.
-compliments would sound a little something like, “you’re pretty good at the games.”
-something distant and impersonal, because he wouldn’t feel right about complimenting specific things about you, if that makes sense? like, it just seems off to him to compliment things about your appearance or your personality. he’d prefer to speak a language he understands.
-(and, let’s not forget, most emotionally unavailable man on earth probably doesn’t want to understand his own feelings, so he’s just as off kilter about the whole thing as you are.)
-in that same vein, he’d probably compliment your intelligence a lot. (again, speaking his own language). he might commend you for your analytical skills or the way you understand things. the way your mind works is something that intrigues him regardless of what universe you’re in, so he’d certainly comment on it if he were making an active attempt to flirt (?) with you.
-he’d be that person who learns your route/routine just so he can run into you. look me in the eyes screen and tell me he wouldn’t. he’d absolutely deny it, don’t get me wrong. he will go to the grave with it. but he would.
-would accidentally insult you without realizing it at LEAST one time. (though if it were a true offense and you were genuinely hurt, I do think he’d apologize in his own on-brand chishiya way. maybe bring you a treat you really like.)
-okay, now for the second extreme, which I personally will subscribe to for eternity.
-this man.
-this MAN.
-chishiya. shuntaro.
-having the most rizz you’ve ever seen in your LIFE.
-it would catch you so off guard—you would NOT see it coming—but this man would be the smoothest motherfucker you’ve ever met.
-picture it. if you will.
-the PETNAMES. tbh I only see a specific set of petnames coming from this man? things like angel, sweetheart. or any variation of pretty. just ‘pretty,’ or ‘pretty girl’/’pretty boy.’ oh my god marry me or nicknames that only he calls you >>>
-if anyone approached you flirtatiously at a party and you were clearly uncomfortable or not interested, he’d just walk up to you and put an arm around your shoulders, asking if you wanted to go somewhere else. probably would verbally obliterate the person approaching you at the same time.
-when you would eventually ask why he did that, telling him you thought he didn’t care, he’d just shrug it off with a smirk on his face, and say something like, “i didn’t like the way they looked at you. that’s my job, isn’t it?”
-honestly are any of us ready for possessive chishiya? I am
-gift giving and quality time are his love languages, so if he’s interested, expect both of those in abundance.
-man would also not understand personal space. he’s a leaner. tell me otherwise, I dare you.
-(please tell me you know what I mean.)
-like, okay, his hands would generally stay in his pockets, but he’d always just be leaning in towards you, or appearing randomly without you realizing it and whispering in your ear to startle you. ESPECIALLY if you’re shorter than him.
-teaser.
-if you get flustered easily, he’d tease you on how your cheeks turn red or how blushy you get when he says something particularly flirty. (“it’s just the truth, y/n,” he’d say with a little hum. “you don’t want me to start lying, now, do you?”)
-if you don’t get flustered easily, he’d just see it as a challenge to up his game. you can leave that up to your imagination <3
-would probably hold your hand just to throw you off guard.
can I do actual relationship headcanons or are you guys tired of him yet?
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pokemoncenter · 2 months
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On Disability in Pokemon
In humans, there are myriad ways one can be disabled. There are physical disabilities- Missing limbs, paralysis, overgrowth of some organs, and the like. There are mental disabilities- learning disabilities, inability to regulate one's words, or impaired cognition of others.
And Pokemon, having infinitely more variety than humans, can have infinitely more ways of being disabled, as well. There are the physical- There is a shelter in Kanto which specializes in caring for "tripod" Growlithe, as an example. There are mental- Pokemon can have learning disabilities as well, or an inability to regulate their emotions.
But Pokemon and their special abilities lead to further ways they can be impaired. I have spoken before about Beans, my Zorua who cannot use illusions. I also remember, when I was a child, there was a Ditto who made the news for not being able to transform its face. There are examples such as a Drifloon who cannot fully inflate.
Pokemon and their biology are so complex and so malleable that it can be difficult to pin down what is a disability and what is not. For a time, there was an umbrella term called Quercus' Disease, when a Pokemon could not emit its elemental powers. However, in 1993, Quercus' Disease was officially removed from all the books, and is no longer a diagnosis, due to the term being so broad as to be functionally useless. It made no distinction between Pokemon who could not generate their elemental power, and those who generated and stored but could not emit them. There have been several attempts to fill the hole left by the lack of this diagnosis, but none have passed muster.
Let us use Cyndaquil as an example. Why might a Cyndaquil be unable to emit flames from its back? It might not be generating the proper chemicals to catch fire, or it might not have the spark generation to light the fire. It might also have the burning oils on its back dry out. It might overproduce, and thus the fire would be dangerous even to itself. The oils generated might be in the body, but not make it to the surface of the back. It might simply even just be clogged and clumped up. All of these things would be very different disabilities, with very different treatments. Yet, they all have the same appearance, and so they would all be lumped under a single umbrella term of Quercus' for a long time. And all of this is for one type of disability from one type of Pokemon.
There are so many others. Some Pokemon simply cannot evolve- Their bodies will either never trigger the correct hormonal surge, or the threshold is simply different, or any other number of things. Some Pokemon can experience gigantism or loss of cartilage upon evolution. Some Pokemon will only 'half-' evolve, and those are usually (but not always) left in... very poor quality of life. Sometimes, a Pokemon simply cannot handle its own needs, and... I digress.
Injury can also lead to disability. When a Pokemon is 'paralyzed' in battle, that is not true paralysis- In fact, there are two different things that are both called 'paralysis'. I would personally think they should be referred to as 'stunned'. An Electric attack may stop a Pokemon by causing the muscles to contract irregularly for a bit, or a heavy physical blow may stun by disrupting a Pokemon's balance for a bit.
True paralysis can occur in battles, though, as a result of spinal injuries. Pokemon have a recovery ability far greater than that of humans, so it is possible they can recover from even a broken spine that would otherwise cause permanent paralysis, but... not always.
A puncture to a Pokemon's flame sacs can also become a crippling disability. A cut to Pikachu's electric sacs that goes too deep may cause their electricity to interact with their bloodstream in... unpleasant ways.
And then there are some who simply cannot control their abilities. A Charmeleon who exhales flame whenever it breathes, regardless of its will. Slowpokes who cannot stop causing rain. Munna emitting a full fog of dream mist.
A veterinarian's job involves being able to handle most things for most Pokemon that will come to them. I very, very rarely practiced for anything outside of Unovan Pokemon, but now I am learning much of Johtonian Pokemon as well. But a veterinarian by necessity must be flexible, and able to handle any kind of Pokemon, even those they have never seen before.
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beechbloom · 11 months
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Dazai's love languages
Word count: 0,8k
Cw: mention of loved ones being lost, some angst
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1. Quality time
Dazai knows that time is short. At any moment, the people in his life can be taken from him. Because of this, he truly takes the time to cherish the moments he shares with those he cares for. Going for a walk, visiting a bar or cafe, or just simply relaxing at home together. If it's time spent with a loved one, it's time well spent.
He'd practically be attached at the hip to a romantic partner. No matter what they're doing, where they're going, there's barely anything that would prevent Dazai from attempting to tag along. He has to be with them, of course. Because if he wasn't, he might miss their smile, their laugh, or some endearing little thing they'd do. They might need his protection too! Of course, Dazai has to come along. It's only logical.
2. Physical touch
He'd be all over a romantic partner — clinging to them at all times. Hugging them, tapping his lap to make them sit, sprawling across their lap on the couch, demanding kisses, holding their hand and swinging it back and forth as they walk. PDA galore.
If his s/o doesn't allow him the physical affection he craves, he'll sulk. "Come onnn. Just a little kiss, I promise!" He'd still try to respect it if his partner was truly uncomfortable with it. Buutt,, he'd be a little bit of a nuisance regardless. Announcing when he wants touch and being like "Oh, who will satisfy my thirst for physical affection? If you don't embrace me soon I might just get so desperate I'll hug Kunikida!"
Though, these actions don't necessarily hold the most weight. The moments that are more genuinely meant to convey his love to someone are typically less energetic. Sitting alone outside, sharing a comforting silence before he suddenly pulls them into him to lean on his shoulder. Or quietly reaching out to hold his s/o as they lay beside each other in the night. Them doing the same sort of things to him will also make him feel loved.
3. Acts of service
He isn't one to do this much himself. Though if he happens to hear his s/o mention they need something, and he finds himself at the store later that day, he could definitely pick it up for them.
If someone does an act of service for him however, it actually means quite a lot; more than he thought it would. Someone doing something for him, something he didn't even ask them to do — it feels as if they're acknowledging his humanity. That he too is a person that might need help every now and then. It's not something he expects from another person, so when it happens it can catch him off guard, bringing a warmth to his chest.
4. Words of affirmation
He's very good at giving compliments and smoothly making someone feel special. These compliments, however, rarely feel genuine on his part. He either does it to get something out of the person or to entertain himself or others. Of course, it can be to get a smile out of his loved one, but he doesn't really think much about the words spilling out of his lips in those moments. "You are the light of my life! My one and only! Beauty that compares to the gods!"
The jokey, energetic flare can also be dropped in favor of something that sounds more serious. "You can do it. I've seen you do it many times before, and you can do it again. You won't fail." But he will still feel detached from it, as if he's reading from a script. He wants to be real, to share true words of love, but it all feels so fake to him no matter what he says. It's much easier for him to pull his partner close, to hold them, and hope they understand.
Him receiving affirmation is also conflicting, unfortunately. Dazai isn’t used to it, and a lot of it really doesn’t reach him on an emotional level. It just feels like empty words being thrown at the walls he’s built up around him.
However, when those words do reach him, he feels it very strongly. It’s soft, fluttery, and makes him feel an unfamiliar warmth… and that almost scares him. He’s not sure how to handle it. The phoniness of his words becomes so blaringly obvious and ugly in comparison to theirs. He’s not sure he could give them anything real in return, not sure he deserves it.
5. Gift giving
Whilst he would appreciate getting gifts, it wouldn't instinctually register in his mind as something being done out of love for him. He received a gift, cool! Now he has a thing someone gave him! ...What should he do with it?
He also isn't a big gift giver himself. Sure, he might give a little something for a birthday or something, but he's not one to constaltly shower people in gifts. It's just not a love language that comes naturally to him at all.
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