#because as adults you are aware of it and able to analyze it and keep it in mind. whereas kids are often unaware.

[anaalnathrakhs]

honestly i think i feel more comfortable w things like "miss" and other generally more childish ways to talk about. female people? i dunno how to de-age it. anyway what i mean is that gendered expectations & gendered everything vary quite a lot depending on people's ages, and especially (assuming no abuse is going on) there can be kind of a "free pass" for non-conformity when you're a kid, just like there can be a free pass for all sorts of polite social manners until you're too old to like, play in the mud.

if you call me miss, you're playing along, you're being jokingly overly polite to a little kid who is clearly not old enough to need an honorific before their name. it's like you're calling me a teen or an adult. if you call me ma'am you're seeing a woman. you're acknowledging what you see. the primary point has shifted from age to gender. and i don't know if i'm really comfortable being perceived as very much solidly a woman.

[calrosebunny]

my thoughts on how D/s would manifest in adult kyman and their mental health journeys

once eric gets therapy, or even just starts it and becomes more self-aware, it’ll majorly change their relationship dynamic. that, and once kyle starts his own mental health journey too, because he’s got problems of his own that a lot of ppl tend to overlook imo, because eric is just so loudly problematic.

because of this i personally think eric will be a dom and kyle will be a sub in their sexual dynamic. seems random but stay with me lol.

a lot of what influences my thought process on this is that i don’t view sex/BDSM/kink/etc. as existing to “fix” someone’s major mental health or personality issues. not even in a self-indulgent fandom shipping context. like, for my tastes, it’s way too simple to say that kyle is a dom who has angry sex with eric because eric is a brat who just needs to be put in his place. don’t get me wrong, super valid if you personally like that, since shipping is REALLY personal!

but as someone who is active in the BDSM community, i think BDSM/kink is there to first and foremost just be fun and sexy, but secondly there nurture something primal and cathartic in you with someone you trust extremely. it can be an outlet for things that are appropriate to navigate with a partner and not just a therapist. people ideally are already self-aware, able to communicate effectively, and can self-regulate when they do BDSM/kink together. it’s a big trust act and you need to be pretty regulated as a person to engage with it healthily.

but there’s still parts of us that get locked away or that we want to explore with someone trusted. parts that are appropriate to explore outside of a therapist’s office.

i think a mostly regulated/healed (since we’re all human yknow) eric would be noticeably quieter, gentler, a great listener, soft, and charming/flirty, but also still witty, bold, crass, overdramatic, cunning, and an excellent leader. i think he would feel deep shame and regret at his past behavior, but still has those familiar urges to be controlling, sadistic, and catered to.

i think a mostly regulated/healed kyle would be more bubbly/talkative, less anxious, and less hard on himself, but also still snarky, smart, caring, impatient, goal-oriented, and fiercely protective. i think he would feel frustrated at his parents for being so overbearing and controlling, and craves to be greedy. but he’d also feel shame at how pleasantly familiar it feels to be controlled and overly nurtured/coddled.

so, i think that these mostly healed versions of kyle and eric would want to safely explore the parts of themselves that they push away day to day. i think this would manifest logically as — and most sexily and cathartically — them replicating their old relationship dynamic within a safe non-judgemental space. where kyle can actually enjoy how controlling eric is while fighting back a little, and eric has a safe outlet to be as controlling and/or sadistic as he wants.

and, of course, they might want to flip the narrative sometimes just to keep things interesting lol. but i think that’s the core of their sexual dynamic — kyle is a sub and eric is a dom. kyle would probably be pretty damn bratty, but also revel in the moments where he can be a blank slate. eric would love the control and sweetness that comes with being a provider, but also be very willing to bring a hand down on kyle’s ass lmfao.

and i genuinely think that’s beautiful. BDSM/kink is really important to me, and i love analyzing characters through this lens. it just offers more insight into who they are!

[crip-writing-shit]

More essay

did you really think I would only over analyze and project onto Doctor who? If so you have been sorely mistaken. Behold my latest creation! Roman Sanders is a surprising good representation of a sibling abuse survivor! Like to ao3 chapter here or continue reading here

head up for non specific talk of child abuse and neglect

I will be trying to write this drawing from cannon only however I have been in the Sander Sides fandom for quite some time and so not all of my characterization will be completely accurate, I am aware that Remus and Roman did not have conventional childhoods with parents as they are only metaphysical but due to the nature of humans dysfunctional sibling relationships occur within a greater family and society with all that said and done let’s get into the meat of it.

A “glass child” is a term used for a sibling of someone with higher needs than themselves and thus the glass child receives very little of the caregivers attention leading to them feeling see through like glass. Glass children most often have medically complex siblings but in cases where a child’s behavior is so dangerous or undesirable that preventing it or limiting damage takes allot of focus and effort from the adults around them the sibling will often end up being neglected, in some cases the glass child will have to assist in caring for their sibling. Roman is very clearly desperate for attention from the other sides, he wants to be praised and looked at and admired. His ego is very fragile perhaps do to his being put aside in order to deal with Remus. When guardians are trying to protect the glass child they may end up keeping things from them because “they are too young to know” or leaving them out of the conversation. We see this in Roman in the beginning of “Dark Side Of Creativity” desperately asking his fellow sides to tell him what is happening and then refusing, he is then knocked out and unconscious for the entire discussion including its resolution, and at least on screen no one thinks to clue him in as to what all happened with his brother.

Sibling abuse is often dismissed and a rivalry or spat but when one sibling has more power over the other out of age, strength or, fear it is known as abuse. Sibling abuse like any other abuse can be Mental, physical, emotional or, sexual in nature and because society doesn’t recognize most cases of sibling abuse the protections in place for abused children let victims of sibling abuse fall through the cracks. Many of sibling abuse cases are what’s called “out of parental control cases” meaning that the parent is not the abuser and cannot stop the abuse easily. These cases are a conundrum because most often putting one or both siblings into foster care would only traumatize them more and so children are forced to remain in unsafe homes, “doesn’t sound like a very fun house” as it was put. Growing up with an abusive sibling we couldn’t discuss what happened during there episodes for fear of the guilt triggering another episode and so I was left out of the loop as Roman is through the episode. Logan wasn’t seriously hurt by Remus while Roman was not only because of belief but because Remus has power over Roman, Roman is cannot be safe from his brother the way the other sides are and with that in mind who do you think Remus takes the frustration of not being able to hurt the others out on? It’s no wonder Roman is so scared of becoming like his brother, is so desperate to rip off anything he has in common with Remus, even though they are family, due to their nature they have more in common with each other than they do other sides and that fact haunts Roman.

Patton prefers Roman. Roman is praised more often in “ The Dark Side of Creativity” more often than most any other episode in the series, but most of those compliments are just because he’s not his brother. “Roman is good!” Unlike Remus “Roman is brave!” Unlike Remus “Roman’s function is important” unlike Remus’ Roman is desperate for praise and yet the strongest praise he gets is when he’s asleep and used to hurt his brother. Roman is the favorite because Remus is the least favorite.

Being abused by a sibling especially one close in age leaves you abandoned by the protections for other abused children, it leaves you isolated from you family while still carrying the burden of being “the good one” it can leave you terrified of becoming like your sibling and sets you up to continue being in abusive relationships.

[uh-velkommen]

I decided to revisit Skam

(but this time under the influence of a certain type of plant) to see if anything new stands out or if my perception of the show has changed. I started with season one because I really don't ever rewatch seasons one or two and while I cant say if the certain plant I had consumed had any effect on my viewing experience, I did notice some things that I wanted to vaguely talk about.

First of all, season one does a REALLY good job at setting the precedent for the show's tone and it's characters. There are so many moments where a camera lingers on an action in order to be comical and the characters truly feel like real people with their own personalities. For example, I always thought of Jonas as the perfect boyfriend. He's like the ideal feminist dude... until you watch season one again and go, "wtf he's a lying gaslighting twat!?" But since I'm watching as an adult now, I can really see how these characters are just babies who don't know right from wrong. Jonas doesn't lie to Eva about talking to Ingrid because he finds it funny to manipulate his girlfriend, he's doing it to save his own ass. It doesn't make him a bad person, he just thought this was the only way to keep his secrets and then as the show goes on, we see him grow and change. (Also can I just point out how absolutely hilarious the cabin scene is where Elias crashes their hyttetur, because the whole time we're watching Eva get ignored by Jonas due to Isak's presence and then suddenly Isak is ALSO getting ignored because Jonas "acts like a different person around Elias").

Watching as an adult really adds a new perspective, as well. Not only do I know where the characters end up but I can also make sense of their irrational behaviors. (Also want to point out P. Chris is an absolute BABY in season one, as in he looks 12). For a moment, when i started my rewatch, I got this strange sense of awareness. I became aware that I was watching a show, I was aware that these were just people playing characters because I now know how these people are in real life but what brought me back in was trying to hyper analyze the characters personalities. For example, Eva just mostly mopes and cries in season one but every now and then we see that she's ultra sarcastic and pretty funny because of it. Then you notice how well she and Noora bounce off of each other because of that. (I'm still trying to fully understand Isak though. His actions can't ALL be narrowed down to his internal identity struggle and friendship jealousy, can it?)

Finally, this is mostly because I'm really attached to season three specifically but watching season one doesn't do much for me emotionally. It's not some crazy thrilling adventure. There's not some big party or plot twist at the end of every episode. I remembered this season as having a lot of back and forth/on and off crap with Eva and Jonas but recently I realized that the show is broken into two acts. The first half is full of Jonas making mistakes. We're on Eva's side wondering why he's always lying and not prioritizing the relationship. Then in the last half, we're on Jonas's side. Realizing that Eva really does struggle to balance her school life and friend with her relationship. She makes it so easy for others to play on her insecurities and i really like the characterization of a person who is smart but ultimately just bad at school.

Final thoughts (for season one at least): It really is worth the rewatch if it's been years for you, as it has been for me. Also if you feel like you're a true adult now and you're able to view these characters as your children, it's really interesting to think about how you would react as the parent in some situations since there is a real, unspoken, emphasis on how their home life and parental figures influence the way they are and interact with each other. Lastly, this has always been a strong point and it doesn't go away with time: The characters are SO strongly written. Everything they do makes sense for who they are and some of their behaviors don't just happen for the sake of the plot. This is a show that has truly been thought out down to the T.

[queerferalgremlinnooneaskedfor]

Hope you don't mind I share some of my own views on the movie; I don't think it was trying to say Barbieland and the Real World were the same.

I remember reading this analysis someone on this site made of the Barbie movie and specifically of Barbieland where they said that they thought Babrieland wasn't trying to equate with real world patriarchy nor something like that, but that Barbieland was meant to represent how little girls play with their Barbies, and not only do I agree with it I also think it ties nicely into the canon.

Little girls play with their Barbies by making a world were every night is girl's night and man are ignored because well at that age you're naturally not interested in them but they are still present because the adults tell you that someday you will want a man so they're just. there. they don't really do anything.

I think this ties into canon because when Gloria starts having rather depressive thoughts and starts designing these random sketches of Barbies then Barbie changes, so that would mean that whatever the real world girls do woth their Barbies it relfects on them and therefore on their world.

But whether it can be canon or not it doesn't really matters, because by saying that Barbieland is meant to represent a girl's chilhood there's another analysis that can be done here, that I don't know if I got it from a post in here or a video essay, but that I think it's a very coherent view on the movie.

So if the Barbies in Barbieland living happily are meant to represent a little girl playing with her dolls, then Barbie suddenly having all these changes can represent the girl hitting puberty and her body changing making her unable to keep up the fantasy, so she travels to "the real world" (aka, she no longer lives in a fantasy world and upon growing up she becomes more aware of the world around her) where things don't work like in her ideal world and she is sexualized and harassed and hated for no reason, then the next stage in growing up is the scene where Barbie talks to Gloria's daughter and she tells Barbie she is "a disgrace to feminism" and other stuff (I can't recall exactly what she calls her but I remember what the scene was like) and this is meant to represent that stage in life that many girls and women went through which has been named the "I'm not like other girls" trope (honestly, I think most women have this moment in life, and what we mean by "I'm not like other girls" is "I'm not just eye candy for men and I am my own person despite my gender and body and looks". Which makes most women in this moment of life reject anything feminine because woman + feminine things = stereotypical eye-candy female characters in our minds, hence why the girls insulted Barbie, because they are compulsively rejecting anything associated to femininity). And then, we finally get to the last stage of that girl's life, when, as an adult, the girl sees another woman, Barbie sees an elderly woman, and tells her she's beautiful, because the girl grew up and knows better, because Barbie saw both the happiness and sadness of the real world and the things good and bad people go through in their lives and she knows the old lady never had it easy, much less in a world like this, and that makes her elderness all the more beautiful: she's beautiful because she's a survivor, because she got this far, this old, and the now adult woman of our analogy, now able to see the world and herself as it is, recognizes her struggles and her strength and finds the beauty in it, just like Barbie does.

After this scene, I don't know if the rest can be analyzed the same way, I truly haven't tried to go all the way with the analogy, but here's one thing that many women picked up on: Ken is meant to represent the sweet young boy friends we had when we were little who we had to see transform into raging misogynists as they grow older. Many analysis of the Barbie movie will include this tad bit of information.

So no, I don't think the movie was trying to compare matriarchy with patriarchy and say they're both equally bad, though I can see where you're going with that thought and I also get some of the points you're making but I hoped I could share my thoughts on why I don't exactly agree and see if you maybe found my explanation a little bit more plausible.

Well, I hope I could express myself properly, and you can reply if you want, I would kinda love to keep hearing about your point of view.

God I almost sign with my name. Why do I make everything so formal—

bestie can u elaborate why don’t u like the barbie movie (i also don’t like it but i just love giving people the opportunity to be haters)

I feel like I should preface this response with several things:

I liked PARTS of the Barbie movie. Some of the messages in it were really good, and were delivered in a hilarious way. The pure love for humanity and LIFE was very evident and I loved Barbie’s arc. I also appreciated the underlying “redpill ideology is harmful and misleads men” message.

I knew Greta Gerwig was a white woman so I did not expect much in the way of intersectional feminism or even acknowledgment that white women are often the weakest link and tend to be 'class traitors' more than any other marginalized group, so that was not my issue with the movie

It's pretty! And bright! And colorful! It was FUN!

That being said… it did not sit well with me the more I thought about it.

My main problem with the Barbie movie is that it equates Barbieland with real life patriarchy and argues that both are equally bad, when that is demonstrably not true even as shown in the movie itself. When Barbie enters our world, she is sexually harassed, assaulted, and objectified. This is... not how the Kens are treated in Barbieland. They're just... ignored. That's it. The Barbies don't mistreat the Kens, and when Ken gets hurt in the beginning of the movie while beaching the Barbies all rush around him to get him medical attention and worry over him. The Barbies aren't cruel, and they certainly aren't treating the Kens as objects. They're just... ignoring them most of the time. And before someone brings up the Kens being homeless I'd like to add that, given their attempts to build a wall in the movie, there is certainly nothing STOPPING them from building their own homes. More than that: if it really bothered them so much why didn't they ask the construction Barbies for help with making one? I'm sure they would've said yes. There is literally nothing and no one stopping the Kens from making their own houses or having their own little Ken village because the Barbies DO NOT CARE what they do. At all.

The worst Barbieland offers men is being ignored by women. And that's not nice, sure. Hence why barbie apologized at the end. But the worst patriarchy offers women is being abused, raped, indoctrinated into patriarchal religions, and murdered by men. Those two things are not the same. So not only could this movie not commit to actually making a real matriarchy that is actually as bad as patriarchy (because don't get me wrong, I don't doubt that a matriarchy in actual practice would be bad y'all), it then argues that this fictional watered down version of a matriarchy is somehow the equivalent of the much more violent real world patriarchy as a ~warning~ to women's rights advocates to not get too carried away I guess? AND REACTIONARIES STILL CAME AWAY FROM THIS MOVIE THINKING BARBIELAND WAS JUST AS BAD AS PATRIARCHY AND BEING UPSET THAT BARBIELAND RETURNED UNDER BARBIE CONTROL (despite the movie's message that Kens were still going to get rights in Barbieland and would one day have the same rights women in our world have but I digress--) And then the reactionaries felt this movie was anti-Men???

So no. I don't like this movie. The fact that a lot of normie people walked away from this movie like "Yeah! It critiqued Matriarchy AND Patriarchy! It critiqued feminism and the red pill!" indicates to me that this movie failed. The premise of this movie was inherently flawed: that women ignoring men=matriarchy=just as bad as the violence and dehumanization of patriarchy. But more than that, the fact that so many agree with this premise concerns me, and suggests that misogyny is much more deeply rooted in the human consciousness than I had expected. If women merely ignoring men and living life without centering men is viewed as matriarchy, as misandry, as "just as bad" as patriarchy, then perhaps the advocacy for women's rights was always doomed.

Sorry to end this on such a downer btw

[shihalyfie]

Any thoughts regarding Survive? Personally I felt it went a little too hard on the “what if adventure was dark?” vibes towards the 1st half, but I overall still think it was a solid experience. As well as being genuinely surprised they were allowed to go that hard at all, because even if the cyber sleuth games had more mature elements, this kicks it past what most series with the same target audience would be willing to do

I'm already working on a meta post about it! (It's just that because it's a completely new work I haven't had experience analyzing before, the post is taking a very long time to prep, especially since my real-life job has not been kind to me. I did write a warning on the blog earlier that this might happen, but I do want to cover it even if it takes me a while.) That said, the meta is turning out to be extremely spoilery, so I might as well kind of give my short-form opinions for now, since I know most people haven't finished all four routes yet.

Obviously I am more than a little biased because I do love Cyber Sleuth/Hacker's Memory (the Erika icon probably makes that clear already), but I generally have a good opinion of the game pipeline's attempts to appeal to an adult audience without sinking into needless edginess or sacrificing what makes people like in this series. So even if Survive might have occasionally toed into overkill, it never felt malicious towards Adventure -- that is to say, it was something clearly done with love towards it and wanting to experiment with it further, and not "Adventure was a kiddy series that never did anything dark so here we're going to do some real vicious stuff!" As long as I feel it was done with love and respect, I will always cut it slack, and in regards to the game's Adventure references, I absolutely do not think you could make something like this unless you really knew and understood Adventure. This is not using Adventure things for nostalgia references, this is something that's in many ways a love letter to Adventure (even if that sounds a little twisted to some). I mean, the entire game exists because the producer was so thoroughly enamored by Kakudou's concept of Adventure Digimon as youkai, so everything has really come out of genuine love and passion.

In fact, I imagine it must have been hard to keep the game as tasteful as it was, because the game covers a lot of concepts regarding Digimon evolution and partnership that fans have been wanting to see explored for years but would never have been able to see because of the Sunday morning kids' show timeslot restrictions. And I have seen fanfic that often covers that, and trust me, I have seen how malicious and needlessly edgy a lot of it threatens to get into, so I appreciate the game putting clear effort to not go that way. And even when the game went all the way and didn't hold back, it definitely felt warranted and thought through. I was also worried about whether the kids' mental health problems or deaths would be treated in a fetishizing manner, but for the most part each character felt like they were treated respectfully and with kindness. I was a little startled at how nuanced they were with framing one particular character as toxic and yet also pitiful (I won't say which one yet, but if you've played the game you can probably figure this out).

I would not recommend the game to everyone. I think the content is going to be a bit too much to stomach for some, I even worry it might hit some triggers for some, and I'm also well aware the gameplay style is not going to sit well with everyone. But as you said, the game is genuinely ambitious and I think that alone deserves credit. The devs were well aware that not everyone would like it, and they've said this publicly, but it's a well-known fact among creatives that trying to constantly please the greatest common denominator is only going to result in the most lukewarm, play-it-safe stuff all of the time, so I'm glad they were willing to take the risk. In regards to the fact they were willing to go that hard, well, it is a T-rated game after all, but I also think there are some ways Ghost Game's physical and psychological horror can be even more brutal. It's ironic in that I don't think these two horror-based works were intended to come out together, but somehow Ghost Game's simultaneous running probably made me see Survive as much less shocking than I really could have.

The gameplay is a bit rough-around-the-edges when it comes to its SRPG aspects; it was fine enough for me, but I imagine more seasoned gamers might be turned off. (Cyber Sleuth/Hacker's Memory was not exactly the paragon of well-designed RPG gameplay either, but considering the kind of really, really bad games this franchise has put out, any Digimon game that's even remotely playable instantly qualifies as one of the franchise's top 15 games.) If I have any major story complaints, it's mostly that I'm not too fond of the actual handling of the route system (the fact so much of it is unskippable repeated content and the fact there’s a blatantly intended order for the routes that it's too easy to not follow by accident), and that this game reuses Adventure's "Digimon partners are literally part of a human's soul" thing but doesn't go nearly enough (at least, for my tastes) into how potentially disturbing that could be for said partners' lack of autonomy. (This is consistently one of the biggest criticisms of the Adventure/02 universe compared to other Digimon works, and I was able to let it go there because it's not concretely brought up in the series and therefore the potential power imbalance never gets as bad as it could be, but here it absolutely is a major plot point that's brought up verbally several times.)

And the localization sucks. I know this goes without saying, and Cyber Sleuth/Hacker's Memory's still makes me wince, and I really should have anticipated this coming, especially since even recently we had Kizuna getting a trainwreck translation (and The Beginning's prospects already looking bad in this regard). But Crunchyroll's recent Digimon subs, especially Ghost Game, have been very comparatively good, so I was hoping...but alas, no, we can't have nice things.

But that's enough for today. I'll talk more when I have a more detailed post (I would appreciate it if you checked it out once I finish!), but the tl;dr is that I like it a lot, I really respect how much it clearly understood Adventure on a very substantial and intimate level in ways things often don't, and I'm overall very happy to add it to my library of Digimon things I like.

[palbabor-writes]

Impetuous

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT/18+only, cunnilingus, switching, bratting, face-riding, Satoru being Satoru, so he’s chatty & in general the worst  

Words: 12,815

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

Notes: this thing has been languishing in my drafts since like, January. because it was my first step away from BNHA i’ve sorta over analyzed it & edited it, likely to death. but anyway, without further ado, here is my first venture into the JJK fandom! thank you for edits & suggestions: @albinoburrito, @kugutsuu​, @kogo​ & everyone else that i’ve forced to look at this thing. love you all sm & ty for putting up with me!

& it’s gojo because of course it fucking is. 

Impetuous im·pet·u·ous /imˈpeCH(o͞o)əs/ adjective done quickly

“I hate to be a harbinger of bad news, and I can understand your frustration, but that’s what they asked me to do. Doesn’t matter what continent we’re on, elders are elders. Honestly, I’m a little shocked that this teaching pathway is even an option for him.” Although you speak softly, your voice seems to carry more in these close meeting rooms, clattering off the tatami mats and gleaming leather couches.   

Yaga massages the bridge of his nose and adjusts his dark sunglasses before lifting his eyes to yours. “I understand, but I still feel that he would be an asset to our school. As long as his motivations remain pure, that’s all I can ask for, at present.”

“Pure or not,” you continue, lacing your fingers as you cross one leg over the other. “It’s vital to see how he handles himself on these missions. What if he has a student with him? I’ve never seen his fighting style, but I’ve heard he can be reckless. How can he foster confidence and proper growth if he’s not measured on the basics? There’s the additional worry of taking him off of the higher ranked missions. Or, if you elect to keep sending him on them, can he handle both? Can he teach and still be a successful sorcerer and asset?”

“He’ll be expected to do both. He knows this,” Yaga sighs, reaching for his lukewarm cup of tea. “While he’s not known for his conventionality, I don’t think that will interfere with his teaching. As I said, some recent events at the school have helped to illuminate the importance of managing the coming generation. Satoru is confident, and I believe that will translate well to any future students. He’s already taken on some responsibility with young Fushiguro and the boy is doing well under his instruction.”

“Fushiguro?” you ponder. Your school administration and the head elders had given you a list of names, people who represented the top families among Japan’s sorcerers, but you don’t remember seeing a name like Fushiguro among the others.

“He’s related to the Zen’in family,” Yaga explains, spreading his vast hands open as he replaces his tea cup against the low table that rests between the two of you. “So, if I’m understanding correctly, your superiors in America have sent you to Japan to collect a series of reports. One is on the influence of curses and how our alumni comport themselves in the field. The other is the analysis of our teaching styles and to, how did you put it, ‘further diversify your own teaching abilities as a jujutsu educator.’ And, as if that wasn’t possibly enough, to observe our newest teaching candidate, Satoru Gojo.” 

“In a nutshell,” you confirm, a smile quirking the edge of your lips. “We’ve got some missions lined up, right?”

“Yes. You will enter the field with Satoru and one other returning alumna, Shoko Ieiri. She’s finished her medical degree and will join our research facilities in the coming weeks.”

“Oh! She’s the one who can use the reverse healing technique! I’ve heard of her.”

“Yes. She was in Satoru’s class. I realize your report is the main aim that you have here, but I would ask that you keep an open mind. While your report is of value to our school, it will not affect my decision on the matter.”

You lean against the stiff cushions of the couch and cock your head at Yaga’s impassive expression. “Of course,” you assure him, noting that nothing in his outward appearance shifts as you give him the response he was waiting for. “Should be an interesting week, at the very least.”

“Oh,” Yaga replies, finally cracking a less than reassuring grin. “Satoru will make sure of that.”

“Hey! (L/N)-san! The next report is up and they’re sending a manager for us, hurry up! Stop scribbling things in that little notebook. What are you writing anyway? Is it some kinda biography? Oooh! Is it on me? Is that why you keep looking at me? It is, isn’t it? Ahh, now I’m gonna feel self-conscious.”

You snap your notepad closed and slip it into your hip pouch, stepping toward the two fellow members of your team. “It’s just routine notes and you don’t need to call me (L/N)-san. I realize it’s likely force of habit, but please, just call me (Y/N).”

“Ahhh! We’re already on a first name basis! I’m blushing. I’ve never had a girl be this forward with me!” Satoru sighs, clapping his hands against his cheeks and leaning over you. “You’re so bold!”

“Ugh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Liar, and stop that. I’m still the senior sorcerer in this party. I–”

“But you’re just a grade 1,” he interrupts, bracing his hands on his hips and exaggerating his stance, moving his face close to yours. As he looms ever nearer, you raise your chin and hold your ground. This invasion of personal space is a tactic he loves to use. 

At first, you’d figured he was just another one of those guys who weren’t aware how intimidating their sheer height and presence came off to others. However, as the days wore on, you noticed his intentional maneuvering. He would press at Shoko too, but she was better at ignoring him, so he soon turned his full attention to you.

“Yeah, I might only be a grade 1, but they have given me the command on all of our missions. It’s my job to file the reports, a task that you, as the technical ‘junior party’, aren’t trusted to do.”

“You’re so right! That’s a tremendous responsibility. How do you stand under all that pressure (Y/N)! The role of the pencil pusher is such a big job. I should act right! Or I’ll never be a real jujutsu sorcerer! God, look at this Shoko, we need to get our shit together! At this rate, we’ll never be able to file our own reports!”

“Now, now,” you tut, raising a finger in front of your face, forcing him to take a subconscious step backwards. “Watch what you say, after all, you’re wanting to become a teacher. So some part of the masochism of endless paperwork must appeal to you.” 

Satoru’s smooth lips raise into a broad smirk and pulls away, arching his arms behind his pale head. “Hmm, I’ll give you that one (Y/N). Mainly because of your choice of wording. Masochism. What a word for it. And why’d you have to say it so straight faced? Oh, that reminds me, what time is our next mission at?”

“Uh, why did masochism remind you of that?” you pause, lifting your wrist so you can check the time on your watch. “I think it’s in two hours, give or take traffic.”

“Hmm, and it’s in the Chiba district?”

“Yeah, that’s in Tokyo, right?”

“It is,” Shoko chimes in, twirling a lock of her long brown hair between two of her fingers. Her low voice reminds you, and you turn to face her. “Speaking of names, I never asked, would you prefer Shoko or Ieiri?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies, lifting her tawny eyes to yours, catching some of the bright sunlight as it fades into the deep circles under her eyelids. The contrast makes her skin look even more pallid. “First name, last name, whatever is easier.”

“Shoko okay with you then?”

“Sure,” she nods, the ghost of a smile lifting her lips. 

“Oi!” Satoru interrupts, slinging an arm over Shoko’s shoulder and fixing you with a pointed look. Or you assume he is, it’s hard to tell where he’s looking because of those white strips of cloth that obscure his eyes. “You know what’s in Chiba, don’t you?”

You blink at him, unsure if this is another one of his aimless questions or something genuine. “No. Should I?”

“You’re a tourist and you really don’t know what’s in–”

“We’ve already been over this Satoru; I am not a tourist,” you protest. “I’m here on official business from my administration to–”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, special, ‘top secret’ assignment or not, you’re still basically a tourist because it’s your first time to Japan. You’re honestly telling me you didn’t look up anything before you arrived?”

“Um,” you waver, eyes narrowing at the cheerful leer that’s drifting over Satoru’s angular features. “I looked up some basic things. I know about the Shinjuku and Roppongi districts. Oh, and Harajuku, that’s a big one too.”

“Mmhm, very good, my little tourist, but do you know what’s in the Chiba district?”

“Don’t call me that and stop screwing around Satoru. If this has nothing to do with the mission, then I’m not interested. I could care less what’s in the district–”

“Might just be rumors, but I’ve been hearing about an increase in cursed activity. Especially around that theme park. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” he looks upward, pearlescent hair tumbling behind his wrappings. “I guess it’s not surprising that it’s a hot spot, what with all the people who are always checking it out. It’s pretty famous.” 

Tch. He’s not gonna tell you. 

You suck your teeth and twist your hand back to your hip pouch, digging for your phone. As you peer over the search results you can hear him rambling on about the notoriety of the unnamed place but as soon as you hit the second result, your head whips back up. 

There’s no way. 

Of course you’d heard of it, you’d even thought about it when the higher ups asked you to take on the assignment to Japan, but never, not in a million years, would you have figured that you’d have a chance to go. Not on this trip.

“Are you serious?” you breathe, blinking up at his smug face. Satoru doesn’t answer, just pops one hand under his chin and gives you a shit-eating grin. You look back at your phone and bite your lip, doing your best to contain your budding excitement, double checking the map for the district.

If he’s not pulling some kind of elaborate joke, it looks like Tokyo Disneyland is the location of your next mission.

“What… what the fuck is this, some kinda elaborate joke??” 

The gates to the amusement park are warped, and the paint is peeling; one side looks like it’s about to melt off of the frame, all twisted metal and faded rust. Just past the gates you can see what looks like an old merry-go-round, complete with lions, tigers, bears and several sets of horses. At the tip-top of the ride rest a star, and atop that star is a wraith like curse. It spindles around the flecks of gold and cool bronze, baring its teeth at the three of you and sputtering a long line of broken speech as it twists and turns. 

“Huh, still looks about the same. This place was enormous when I was a kid. Now it’s a trendy spot for ghost hunters and thrill seekers! I think five or six people died here last year.” Satoru grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as he strides forward. In seconds, he’s beside the curse on the merry-go-round, silencing chittering of its inane dialogue, letting an eerie quiet seep over the rest of the abandoned grounds.

“So stupid. I cannot believe I let him make me think we were going to Disneyland. You know what he’s like, Shoko! Why didn’t you tell me? He–”

“I honestly don’t listen to him. No idea he was making you think this was Tokyo Disney,” Shoko interrupts, already following the path Satoru took, tucking her brown hair behind her neck with a loose hair tie. “But since we’re here, could you lower the curtain and take care of those level 2 curses on the ticket booth?”

You let out a long sigh and toss her a quick affirmative, reciting the familiar incantation, watching as the darkening shield slopes its way down from the skies, sheltering the three of you within its haze.

The first set of curses are easy enough and you swiftly take care of them, unleashing your cursed technique and splicing them into faded dust. How ridiculous, you think, opening the door to the booth and dodging an ill timed lunge from a sneakier curse who was hiding inside. Satoru honestly had you thinking that you’d be going to the Disneyland theme park. On the way over, he’d even told you about the layout of the park and what potential curses might be lurking about. 

What a jerk. 

Still, you muse, turning toward another shrieking hulk of a curse that’s lumbering toward you, it’s impressive he’d led you on so easily. You make a mental note to get back at him later, for now you need to clear this area and focus on the task at hand. 

“I cannot believe that you led me on like that!” you pout, knocking back a small swig of beer.

“Pfft,” Satoru chuckles, wagging one long finger at you. “Didn’t ever say it was gonna be Disneyland, did I? You came to that conclusion all on your own.”

“Oh please! Making me look up what ‘famous tourist spots are in Chiba’ and then nodding each time I said I was excited to see some of the rides on the way over.”

“You could have really been into haunted carnivals. How was I supposed to know?”

“Ass,” you snap playfully, sticking your tongue out at his pleased smile. 

After the mission and spotting your peeved expression, Satoru had insisted that you let him take the two of you out for a drink. According to Shoko, the bar in this neighborhood was highly rated and had some of the best specials in the entire district. 

The place was packed; but somehow Shoko had secured three seats up at the bar top, ushering you to sit between her and Satoru, informing you there must always be a three foot buffer between her and ‘that loser’. The bartender seemed to know her and, before you could pull yourself into the worn leather seat, three foaming lagers were passed across the rough surface of the bar top, one for each of you. 

“Thanks,” you’d murmured, cupping your hands around the glass. On your right, Satoru pushed his lager toward you, raising two fingers at the distracted barkeep as he chatted with Shoko. “What’s wrong? Don’t like beer?” you’d asked, bemused by his disgruntled expression. 

“Nah,” he’d confirmed, wagging his digits a little faster, chin lifting as he let out a huffed exhale. “Messes with my eyes. I want something to eat, though. Hey! Shoko! Stop flirting with him and ask if they have anything sweet! Shokooo! Don’t ignore me!”

Shoko made a show of rolling her eyes but, a few minutes later, a plate of piping hot fried sweet buns appeared and he’d swiftly grabbed up one, popping it in his mouth and smacking it hungrily. You’d turned to ask Shoko what they were, but by the time you’d twisted back to Satoru over half of the cakes were gone. 

“Damn, you inhaled them,” you’d exhaled, a little shocked he could scarf them down that quickly.

“Well, they’re not bad and hit the spot, for now,” he’d grinned. “Want one?”

“I’m good. You might bite my finger if I get too close… mistake it for one of the buns…”

“Awe, what’s wrong? Think you wouldn’t taste good?”

“Yikes,” you laugh and Satoru hums, clearly pleased with your genuine mirth.

Shoko, who was soon engrossed in conversation with a few of the other patrons to the left of her, kept ordering rounds for the both of you. To keep up, you diligently sipped at each fresh beer, careful to keep abreast of the thrum of the alcohol with several responsible swigs of water. Satoru seemed content with his small order of sweets and peppered you with questions about life in America. He asked about what grade year you taught, the ins and outs of curses within the states and how you liked Japan. He kept things lively and made a point to throw in a few lighthearted jokes at you, beaming each time you laughed at his barbs. 

“So, what you’re saying is there’s no one in America quite like me?” he teases, stretching his long arms dramatically before leaning closer to you.

“Stop that! You’re gonna hit someone,” you grin, trying to shove at his side, watching as your hand freezes in midair, held off by his limitless technique. “Seriously? You’ve still got that on?”

“Mmhm,” Satoru intones. “24/7, 365!”

“You would,” you try to jostle him again, bemused by the fraying and shimmering sliver of infinity that rests between the two of you.

“It’s a tremendous strain on my brain, you know,” he bemoans, dropping his head and fixing a long frown over his lips.

“You deserve it.”

“Ack!” Satoru cries out, clutching at his heart. “Wow! No sympathy! You really gonna treat me like this? My senpai?”

“May I remind you - Tokyo Disneyland,” you intone, glaring at his haggard expression. 

“WOW. You’re never gonna let that go, huh?” Satoru cracks a face, arching his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, letting a high pitched, cracked voice leech from his lips. “Ahhh, that damned man! He deprived me of my dreams! The chance to see Tokyo Disneyland, one last time!”

“What is that? Me? But… old?”

“Pretty good, right?”

“No.”

“Well, I think it was uncanny!” he crows, nodding.

“What in your warped mind makes you think I’ll sound anything like that when I’m old?” you ask, pushing your empty beer pint forward as you purse your lips. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited over the idea of a theme park,” he ponders, tapping a bent index finger against his smooth chin. “Don’t you guys have them in the states? The Disney parks, I mean.”

“We do, we have two. But, since you made me think we were coming to Tokyo Disneyland, I looked up some rides,” you snatch your phone from the counter, scrolling through a few photos before you land on the right one. “Ah! Here it is! Look at this! See?” you chirp, pushing the gleaming screen of your phone toward him.

“Uh. What am I looking at?”

“It’s the Tower of Terror!”

“Which is… ummm… a ride?”

“Yeah? And look at it! It’s upside down! I don’t think the one in America does that,” your finger reaches toward your phone and you blow up the closest image, tapping at the bright colors. Satoru laughs and waves a hand up, attracting the bartender once more and gesturing for another beer for you. “Imma get you another drink, you’re fun like this, plus, you’re just too cute with that little smile.”

You miss his last comment, wholly focused on finding another set of images. “Oh my God! Look! During Halloween they have a night parade in front of it! And… ahhh! Satoru! There’s a green ghost at the top! It’s almost like that curse we saw tonight at the carnival!” 

His long fingers snatch up your bright device, and he yanks it away from your wide eyes. “Ok, that’s enough of that. I’m worried you might end up cursing me for not taking you.”

You give him a sour look and vainly try to grab your phone back, fingers unable to pass through his unseen barrier. “What? No fair! I still don’t understand how you can always have this up!”

“Practice,” he taunts, shaking his head at your determination and wandering touch, chuckling each time you bounce off of his cursed technique. “On another note,” he begins as your new lager is placed in front of you. “What’s in that report that you’re working on?”

You decide to ignore the fact that he’s still holding your phone and cautiously sip past the foam of your fresh beer, peering up at him, studying the lines of his white cloth. It doesn’t tell you much, so you look at his lips instead. They’re pale, but they’re held in a serious line, so you carefully construct your response. “What makes you think I have a report?”

“Why else would you be here?” Satoru counters, rapping his nails against the warped wood of the bar top. “I know you met with Yaga and you’re too cautious and overpowered to be sent on missions with Shoko and me. So you must be here for something else.”

“Officially,” you concede, “I’m here to observe the teaching techniques and skills of the alumni of your school. I’m sure this will come as no shock, but curses are getting more powerful, both here and overseas, and we’re doing our best to keep ahead of those changes. I’m supposed to pick up what tricks I can and bring them back home, to see how we can implement it.”

“Reasonable,” he allows, spreading his fingers before coiling them under his palms again. “But that’s not everything, is it?”

No, you think it’s not. 

You lower your beer and look over at him. He’s braced himself against the bar and his head is dipped so his chin is almost against his breastbone. He doesn’t exactly look dejected, but you can see that he’s thinking deeply and something about that openness makes your heart squeeze. He looks a bit like a kicked puppy. 

Ugh, he’s not a bad guy. He’s funny, and he knows what he’s doing, plus he has the confidence to get where he needs to go. In all honesty, he wouldn’t make a terrible teacher. Maybe not the best, but he certainly wouldn’t be the worst. 

“I–there… there’s some concern you’d be too divided - that it’s not practical to have you teach and go on missions. I also don’t think your own elders trust you much.”

“Ah-ha!” Satoru beams, springing upward and pointing two finger guns at you. “You are here to look in on me! Knew it!”

You can’t help but laugh at him. “Fine, fine, you got me. Let’s get this over with, huh? So we can get back to talking about things other than work, I liked that. What’s the most direct thing I can ask? Hmm, oh! I’ll start with something easy–Why do you want to teach?”

“That’s easy?” he whines, head falling again. 

“It’s straightforward,” you bargain, propping your chin on your fist, looking him over. 

“Sure, let’s pretend that’s not a deceptively loaded question! Alright, well, it’s the best way to change things.”

“Change things?”

“Yup. Like you mentioned, lately curses have become more powerful and lately it feels like I’m the only one who’s being sent on these high-level missions. Frankly, it’s stupid to rely on just me that much, you know? That’s not practical, or even realistic. So, to my mind, it’s vital I throw my support behind some of these up-and-coming kids. You know, foster the next generation and all that. I want reliable allies in the field and to have that, I’ve gotta make sure they’re taught right. Give them everything I know, make them better than me, stronger than me.” 

You’re quiet for a long breath, eyes wide, fingers frozen around your glass, which was midway to your lips. “Damn,” you smile, letting the word hang. “You know, that was actually a pretty good answer.”

Satoru clicks his tongue and curls his lips in a grimace. “Don’t sound so surprised.” 

“I mean,” you chuckle and look up at him, eyes bright. “Well, your attitude doesn’t always inspire confidence.” 

“Ahhhhhh,” he groans, thumping his covered forehead against the bar. “Such a low blow! Bartender! Another round for me!”

“Please,” you sigh, finally taking a sip of your beer. “Do not call your sweet buns ‘another round.’” He grins at you and leans across the bar top, shifting his weight toward your bent arm. The pressure of his shoulder is warm and you nudge at him a little, playfully. He tuts at you but continues to stare ahead, a faint smile teasing the edge of his lips. 

As the bartender slides the requested plate of sweets down, you suddenly realize that you’re touching him. Your eyes widen and you slowly turn your head toward his. He’s not looking at you, content with chewing on his sweet bread, but he’s still braced against you. It’s like all of your senses are finely tuned to that one spot of faint friction between the two of you. You can feel the lines of his muscled arm as he shifts and you involuntarily gulp, doing your best to ignore the abrupt thudding of your heart. 

He said he always kept it up, didn’t he? Something about 24/7 and all the days of the year, so why is he…

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice startles you and you instinctively slide closer to Satoru, arm dragging against his shoulder as you try to right yourself again. “I’m gonna go win this drinking contest these guys have started. You two sticking around for a bit?”

“Uh,” you begin, but Satoru cuts you off, draping an arm over the back of your chair. “Yeah, we’ll be here. What are the stakes?”

“Not sure. But the pot is likely against me, if you’re in a betting mood.”

“Sure, I’ll put 20,000 yen on you.”

“Is…” you start, but Shoko is already walking off, one arm pumped into the air as she shoulders her way to the long table that’s filled with five or six others, all of them holding a full pint glass of beer between their hands. You turn back to Satoru and let out a long breath. “Is that safe?”

“Huh?” he asks, face close to yours. You can smell his cologne from here and the heady scent of him and crisp patchouli fills your senses. “I mean Shoko, will she be ok?” you elaborate, eyes studying the space where his own would be, silently hoping that he’ll pull down the barrier that covers half of him from your curious gaze. 

“Ah,” he nods sagely, leaning back a little to look out at where Shoko is sitting, quietly waiting for the start of the game with her full beer. “She’s got a ridiculously high tolerance. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of her cursed technique. She’ll be fine.”

“True, she likely knows the limits of the human body better than anyone else. But… I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so… excited?” you muse, sitting against your chair and running into the flat palm of Satoru’s hand. For a moment, you debate shifting away, but he’s not really doing anything, just letting the tips of his fingers rest against the curve of your spine, tapping a disjointed rhythm as he watches the start of the contest, that all too familiar smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“She used to be a little more laid back, you know?” he replies, leaning a little harder into your side as he lowers his voice, keeping close to your ear so you can hear him. “She always looks so tired now and her whole outlook has changed, but I suppose four years of med school will do that to you. Although, I did hear that she cheated her way out.”

“No!” you gasp, eyebrows lifted in shock. Satoru laughs, and for once, you’re not thinking it might be at your expense. “Yeah! Just the word on the street. But I wouldn’t put it past her. Shoko’s always done her best to avoid things, namely confrontation or extra work, so it makes sense she’d jet outta med school as fast as she could too.”

“That’s crazy and frankly, terrifying.”

“Riiight?” he shivers, lips raising in an exaggerated wince. “But that’s our Shoko. I’ve got a feeling she’ll do well at the school and I’m grateful I’ll have time to work with her again. It’s been way too long…” Satoru trails off and you can feel his hand slip up your back, fingers ghosting over your shoulder blades.

“Stop that,” you scold, shaking him off with a quick jolt and twisting around to look at his roguish smirk. “What happened to always maintaining your barrier?”

“Awe” he groans, dunking his head against your shoulder with a thump. “Come on, I’ve gotta win you over somehow!”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, I mean, I want the job.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you threaten, doing your best to keep your bubbling amusement contained. 

“Try it,” he taunts, lifting his head and keeping his face close. His nose is inches from yours and you can barely make out his sharp grin, but you can feel the drag and pull of his breath as it passes over you, leaving a lingering sweetness against your skin. Instantly, your hand lifts to him, fully intent on shoving him back, but you can’t move any closer, trapped by the sudden emergence of his infinity. 

“Ass,” you prickle, shaking your head at his antics. Another peal of laughter falls from his soft lips and you can’t help but smile back, caught up in his infectious joviality. “Tch. Don’t make me find more Tokyo Disney pictures.”

“You can’t,” he informs you, cocking his head at your confusion. “I still have your phone.”

“Hey! Give that back!” you gasp, snatching blindly at him. He shifts back into his seat and yanks your device out of his pocket, waggling it tauntingly in front of you. “Uh-uh! Gotta get past the barrier first!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Never said that I’d make this… oh! Shoko! How did it go? Win me something?”

You twist and spot Shoko’s dark head approaching the two of you. She pauses beside Satoru and flips a large stack of bills down on the bar top, a wide grin on her usually impassive face. “As expected, I won. Here’s your cut, Satoru. Don’t spend it all in one place or on another order of sweet buns, would you? Think you can do that for me?” 

She and Satoru bicker back and forth playfully as you unfold several of the notes, aimlessly organizing them on the countertop as their brisk conversation winds back down.

“So,” Shoko murmurs, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and knocking one free from the carton. “You two gonna head out soon? I don’t really see a need to call one of the managers, the school’s close by and so is (Y/N)’s hotel.” 

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, finally passing your phone back as he collects the neatly stacked set of yen from you. “Figured, I’d see her back.”

“I can find it!” you protest, jamming your phone safely into your pouch once more.

“Sure,” he mocks, arching toward you as he braces an elbow against the bar. “You can barely speak Japanese and I know you can’t read much kanji, but sure thing, let’s let you loose in the city. See how far you make it before you’re calling one of us, hmm?”

“That’s not… I–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Satoru waves his hand back and forth and turns back to Shoko. “I’ll let her finish her drink and then we’ll head out. See you tomorrow?”

Shoko nods at his question and, for a moment, you think you spy a knowing look pass between the two of them, but before you can call out to her, Shoko is already making her way toward the door.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes narrowed as Satoru looks down at you, white hair gleaming under the low lights. “What?” he asks innocently, propping his chin onto his open palm. “That look that the two of you just gave each other.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. You sure that beer didn’t hit you a little too hard?”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Despite it being late August, a cool breeze greets the two of you when you step out of the bar. “It’s so nice out,” you comment, readjusting your boots as you hop onto the sidewalk. 

“Mmhm,” he agrees, bracing his arms behind his head as you make your way down the street. “So did you decide what you’re gonna write in your report?”

You glance up at him and make sure he can see you rolling your eyes. “Back to trying to butter me up?”

“Never! Just asking. If you wanna say I’m crazy and can’t be trusted, that’s fine. I can think of a few others who’d agree with you.” 

“Oh? Who?”

“Most people,” he laughs, stepping a little nearer and bumping against you, shocking you with the actual weight and warmth of his body again. As you continue on, you lift your hand to his arm and press the pad of your finger against his sleeve. This time, nothing bars your way so you run the digit slowly along his arm, smiling when he shivers and bats you away. 

“Stop that! Someone’s gonna see and think you’re taking advantage of me!”

The laugh that explodes from your chest at that mental image makes you stop dead in your tracks, arms lacing around your shaking stomach. Satoru scoffs at your bent figure and leans down, shaking his head at your guffawing.

 “The… the… fact that you… think that anyone… would think that… I–” 

“You’re lucky your laugh is so cute,” he muses, bracing his arms over your bent back, playfully pinning you down as he crosses his forearms.

“Hey!” you protest, squirming under his hold. “Let me up!”

“Tell me what you’ve written about me!” he threatens, chuckling as you squirm under him.

“I only said that Satoru Gojo is an absolute monster and shouldn’t be trusted with anyone’s future,” you cry out, overly pantomiming your overwrought expressions, peeking up at him from under his laced arms.

“Oh? Just that? Well, you’re right. So, fair is fair!” Satoru replies, slipping off of you so fast that you nearly tumble to the hard concrete. Half a beat later, he’s back in front of you and lifting you back to your full height, fingers soothing over your arms as he tugs you toward him. “Would it kill you to toss in a bit of praise? Talk about my undeniable prowess and skill? Wax poetic about my stunning efficiency? You know, make them think that I’ve won you over with my charms. After all, you can’t resist me, can you?”

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

A distant quake dashes up your spine, but it’s not from the chill in the air. “Uh, you sure you didn’t sneak some shots under the table? The way you’re pawing at me, you’d think you were the one in the drinking contest.”  

“Nah, I told you, I don’t drink. Messes with my eyes.” Satoru pats his index finger against his white wrappings for emphasis.

“Mmm, the six eyes, right? Powerful ability, from what little I’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “It’s a rare technique. Wanna see?”

You’d walked on, but once the question leaves his lips your feet swivel back, as if they have a mind of their own. He’s standing where he was, hands dug into the pockets of his pants, a lazy smile resting on his lips. The moonlight makes his hair shine, and the gleam is bright against the darkness of the street. The glow makes him look taller, imposing. He’s quiet as he waits for your answer and you take advantage of the extra time to mull over the strange man in front of you. 

He’s enigmatic; a force to be reckoned with, for curses and fellow sorcerers alike and, like most jujutsu users, a little crazy. Even knowing all of this, there’s something about him that’s drawing you in. It’s like the pull of a magnet. It tugs at the forefront of your mind and makes you step closer, wanting to see if you can unravel the puzzle that’s Satoru Gojo. 

“Fine,” you hear yourself reply, crossing your arms, steadfastly watching for his next move. “Go on. Let me see what all the hype is about.”

He grins and that mischievous look makes your heart beat race against your breastbone as yet another quake slips up your back. “Ready?” he asks, right thumb hooking under the fabric that covers his eyes. You nod once and the pad of his finger starts that short, upward, pull. 

He’s slow, painfully slow, in his unveiling. 

The smooth angle of his upper cheek peeks out, and he’s careful to roll up the white cloth as he goes. Then, right as he hits the groove of his lower eye, he stops, a frown pulling over his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know…” he contemplates, holding his thumb under his wrappings. “What if I don’t live up to your expectations? Can’t let you down. Not when you’ve been so patient. I know you’ve been wanting to ask, I can see it in your face. Every time we’d start an exorcism you’d look at me, like you were waiting, watching to see if I’d finally take off the coverings.”

Did you? 

Does it matter?

Do you want it to matter?

Flabbergasted by his all too true accusations and entirely eaten up with curiosity, you march up to him and wrap your fingers around his raised wrist, not noticing that you’re actually touching him and completely unaware of the alluring smile he flashes when your hand coils around his. “Ugh, come on! For once in your life, stop being such a tease! You’re never fair, always so… so pompous and… and–”

You’d shoved his hand upward as you began your preamble but as soon as the tightly wrapped cloth passed over his right eye you feel your breath leave your tensed body. 

His eyelashes are pale, the same ashen color as his hair, but they contrast beautifully with the lone eye that peers down. Beautiful? No, it’s more than that. It’s… it’s…

Truthfully, it’s indescribable and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

It’s blue; but it’s not an ordinary shade. No, the color seems to meld and shift before your shocked gaze, drifting from hue to hue as the color deepens and lightens. Clouds. It’s like clouds passing over a summer sky. The brightness of the cerulean ensnares you, and you can feel your mouth go dry as you stare up at him. 

His eyes are stunning, perfect, and irresistible, hauntingly so.

“So, what do you think?” Satoru asks, pulling his wrist from your grasp and snatching your limp hand in his, twining his long fingers between your own. His skin is warm and you need to say something, anything, but your mind is stuttering, lagging miles behind as you fall headfirst into the overwhelming pull of his presence. 

Finally, you unstick part of your tongue. 

“They’re… uh… I don’t… ha… God…” You shake your head roughly and the familiarity of that motion slips out of the trance he’s placed you under. As soon as you can think again, you jerk your hand from his and blindly walk down the darkened street. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and you can’t stop nibbling on your lower lip. 

It’s not… this isn’t how this is supposed to go, you think, trying vainly to get the shine of Satoru’s eyes out of your mind.

“Never answered my question,” Satoru coos beside you, his long legs quickly catching up with you. “What’s wrong? You like em’ a little too much?… Or…” 

“They… they’re kinda creepy,” you blurt out, fingers curling into your palms. 

“Creepy!” he gasps, hopping in front of you and lifting up both sides of his wrappings, granting you a peek of both eyes. You do your best to avoid looking at him head on, turning and weaving from him, but he dances closer each time you shift. Damn it. His animated performance makes you exhale a quiet chuckle, and he takes your amusement as a sign to continue, constantly placing himself in your way with a broad grin. 

“Stop!” you plead, openly laughing at his sudden burst of silliness. “Now you’re acting like a creep! Satoru! Don’t! Stop showing them to me! You’re losing all of your appeal! Isn’t part of your charm the mystery? Actually, that’s likely all of your charm. Come on, stop it, there’s a cop on that street corner, he’s gonna think you’re drunk and harassing me!”

“Whaaat!” Satoru gulps, whipping his head around to look at the tired policemen that’s leaning against a dim street lamp. “Oh no! The police! Quick (Y/N), before he spots us!” His long fingers snatch up your pliant wrist and he tugs you into a dark alleyway. 

“Hey! Where are you taking me? Officer!” you call out playfully as you balefully follow him, dragging your feet along the dusty ground. “He’s over here! Help!”

“Oi! Knock it off! You wanna get me arrested?”

“Oh please, there’s no way that guy is about to follow–”

“Shit! Shhh, he’s coming this way! Come on!” The sheer force of his grip yanks you forward and you stumble after him. He takes the corner of the next alleyway and the pair of you dash along the wet patches that litter the broken concrete. He’s moving at a tremendous speed, but his feet barely make a noise as he glides over the grimy ground and it takes everything you’ve got to just hold on and keep up.  

A few twists and turns later, you can finally see the bright lights of the busy street that your hotel is on and you feel a heavy exhale of relief leave your burning lungs. Satoru skids to a halt right before he tumbles onto the safety of the sidewalk that rests a few paces ahead and pulls you beside him, grinning down at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“I think we lost him!” he beams and you suck your teeth as you bend over, hands bracing themselves against your knees. “There…there’s no… he wasn’t actually chasing us. Even if he was, I doubt he can catch up now….” your voice trails off as you hear a distant shout from the alleyway and the thud of heavy boots. 

No. There’s no way you think dumbly as you stare into the darkness, eyes searching for movement. 

“See? I told you he was on to us. He’ll see us if he comes this way. What if… Oooh, lemme try something,” Satoru’s broad hands grab at you and he swiftly maneuvers you against the damp brick of the nearest building, careful not to scrape your back as he pushes you against the rust colored siding. “Just play along, I doubt he’ll notice. Don’t give me that look, it’s your fault he’s following us!”

“My fault? I didn’t… oh–”

His lips are sleeker than you’d imagined. 

That first, teasing kiss he gives you already has you lifting your head, following the beguiling smoothness of his mouth, silently asking him for another caress. When he leans down your hands bunch into the dark fabric of his uniform and you can feel his smile against your slackened lips. He doesn’t touch you; his fingers don’t wander to the back of your jaw or the dip of your skull, instead he opts to flatten his angles against your curves, pressing until you can’t feel anything but him. 

The next kiss he gives you has a little more bite behind it, literally. 

His sharp nose bumps your cheek and his teeth worry against the plush swell of your lower lip, sucking and nipping until you’re snatching for his shoulders, searching for some kind of leverage. His mouth parts and right when you think he’s about to deepen his strokes and teasing pecks, he leans back and cocks his head at your flustered expression. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” he tells you, bracing one of his arms above your head. “It looks so fun in the movies.”

That cop could be right behind him, could be waiting for you both to stop your ridiculous routine and face the harsh gleam of reality, but you don’t care, not right now. 

Your hands had fallen from him when he pulled back, and the absence of his warmth makes you desperate to touch him again. But, when you snatch at the corners of his dark jacket, you’re met with that damned barrier. 

“Really?” you bemoan, licking at your kiss slick lips, trying again. “You’re the worst, you know that? You let me get used to the idea of having access to you and then just cut it–mmmph…” 

With a faint shudder of space, his barrier is lowered once more and his lips are back against yours. This time, his hands join in and he cups his fingers behind your ears, tilting you up as he glides his soft touch over you until you’re groaning. 

“Could have just told me you wanted more…” he rumbles in between his caresses, fingers tracing over the line of your jaw, your neck, and the slope of your shoulders. It’s like he can’t decide where he wants to go and you love the momentary burst of indecisiveness that’s broken over him. 

More, apparently, entails you asking him to come up to your room. 

He’d laughed when you’d mentioned it, your lips swollen and glassy from his attentions, and you’d almost taken it back, peeved by his genuine amusement at the idea, but then he’d plucked you into his arms and smoothed any lingering doubts with another flurry of nips and kisses. 

“This gonna make it into your report?” he grins, yanking his high collared jacket off and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. “I should,” you barb, pulling the long band of your hip pouch off, letting it clatter to the ground as your fingers work up the buttons of your own uniform. “Let them think that you’re abusing your status.” 

“Tch, me? Abuse my power? Never. Hey, I think you’re supposed to go slower with that. Don’t just yank all of your clothes off. You know, take your time, tease me a little,” Satoru chuckles, jerking his chin toward your busy hands.

“Oh? Wanting a show?” you ask, threading the last button and spreading the heavy material apart, revealing the thin shirt that’s obscuring his view of your breasts and stomach. “Well, that’s too bad, because taking all this gear off is never fun, or sexy for that matter…”

“Not with that attitude,” he hums, stepping closer, peeling his skin tight undershirt off and revealing the sleek planes of his rippled muscles. Most sorcerers are fit; and many boast beefier sets of pectorals and curving arches of biceps and triceps, but there’s something about the streamlined leanness of Satoru that’s making your hands itch. He’s not far, you could reach out for him, slip your fingers over the dips and beveled lines of his abdomen and follow that tempting strip of white that winds down the front of his pants, but that makes this too easy and there’s nothing about Satoru that’s easy.

“Mmm, that’s a new look.” His voice is distant to your ears, but the satisfied note that’s vibrating through his words makes you snap your head up, fingernails scraping against your palms. “You look like you wanna eat me (Y/N)… or maybe, taste is a better adjective. Awe, what’s the matter? Worried I won’t let you?”

You run your tongue over your lips and lift one hand, holding it steady and crooking your index finger at his brazen expression, pleased to see that cheeky smile of his falters a little. “Do me a favor, come here and take off that blindfold.”

“Ah-ha, so bossy,” he growls, voice sinking into that sinfully lower octave as he raises his broad hands to the back of his wrappings, unwinding the fabric and slowly advancing toward you. He stops when the tips of his toes are inches from your own, bracing his palms toward his face, holding the last strip across his eyes. “Wanna do the honors? Or are you expecting me to do all the work tonight?”

“As if. Besides…” you snicker, pulling two fingers to the remains of his blindfold and peeling it down, watching as his hair falls forward, slowly divulging the top of his forehead, pale eyebrows and that shock of avid blue that’s already gazing down at you. “I think you like when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

“Ahh, looks like she figured me out,” Satoru groans, letting the ivory bindings fall to the floor, his hands already reaching for your waist. He doesn’t give you an opportunity to study him, but they’ll be time for that later, you reason, arms lacing around his chorded neck. 

This kiss is hungrier and his tongue immediately dances along the seam of your lips, pressing until you give in. It’s an awkward angle, but he expertly adjusts himself to you, slotting a warm palm against the small of your back and raising the other to curl into your hair, lifting you until it’s perfect. 

He’s greedy, devouring every inch you give him with a ravenous edge, but when you suck on his lower lip, he slips into something that’s clearly a little more unhinged. 

Suddenly, he’s the one who’s bending forward, trying to get as close to you as he physically can, hunching until you can trace your fingertips over the sharpness of his jaw. His teeth clink against yours as he snatches you up, and you can feel the sharp bulge of his length, the hardness grinding down your hips and stomach as he yanks you nearer. It’s hard to breathe, but he’s refusing to let you budge, lips avariciously seeking and pulling, leaving you with nothing else but the sheer enormity of his touch.  

“Fuck,” he gasps, finally letting you fall from his grasp, heaving out a few unsteady breaths. “You’ve got way too much on. Why do you still have so much on?” He plucks at your shirt but stops when he frees the edge from your pants, cerulean eyes bright in the moonlight. “Take it off,” he heaves, forehead pressing against yours, lifting his fingers from you. “Take it off for me, please?” 

You nod, a little taken aback by his sudden desperation, and he watches closely as you yank the thin material up, blue eyes shining as you unveil yourself. When the shirt passes over your breasts, he gives you a distracted kiss to the temple before he pulls away, freeing you to pull it over your head and sighing happily when it finally hits the floor, leaving you partially bare. As soon as your arms lower, he’s back against you, hands cupping at your hips, jerking you forward. “Whoa,” you gasp, bracing your palms against his chest. “Slow down. Let me get the rest of this–”

“No, no, no, no,” he chants, fingers smoothing up your spine. “Stop, for a second… just… just gimme a minute. You feel so nice. Your skin, it’s… it’s so warm and so fucking smooth, ahhh. Ohh, yes. A few more seconds (Y/N), just let me… It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone like this. I kinda forgot what it felt like and I don’t wanna let go, not yet.”

His head is bowed and that hauntingly blue gaze is covered by his winced eyelids, but he can’t seem to stop moving. Even as he asks you to hold still, to let him touch you, feel you, he keeps shifting his weight and burrowing his brow into the dip of your shoulder. 

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nails scritching at the clasp of your bra. “Please? Lemme take it off. Come on. I know you wanna touch me too, I saw how you were looking at me a minute ago. You’re so fucking cute, I can’t… ahaha, fuck, I sound insane. Look, I’ll slow down, I promise, just gimme a little more of you.”

When he mischievously snaps the strap of your bra against your shoulder blade, you can’t help but laugh at his infectious exuberance. His head lifts from you and he turns his attention to your neck, soft lips sucking and nipping at you until you’re wriggling in his hold. “Alright, alright! Just step back, Satoru! I’ll take it off,” you placate, knocking him away and huffing at the long face he gives you in return. “Here,” your fingers unhook the two pronged clasp and the delicate lace slips from your shoulders, falling to the carpeted floor with a hush. “Okay, that’s everything on the top half. Now what are–Ah! Satoru!” 

He takes full advantage of his superior speed and before you can blurt out a proper retort, he’s against you. 

His teeth worry at your earlobe and he immediately hoists you upward, seizing the lush curve of your ass and pulling you into his powerful arms, urging your legs to wrap around his trim waist. When you shakily oblige, he cups one lean arm under you, but the other drags you forward, scraping your newly bared breasts and stiffened nipples against the planes of his powerful pectorals. When he walks, you jostle in his grasp and coil your fingers around his neck, smiling when he moans contentedly at your reliance on his firm hold. “Damn,” he grunts, cocking his head so he can lick a wet circle into your pulse. “You feel fucking good (Y/N). So damn smooth, how are you so soft? God, I want more, I wanna feel everything.”

The front of his shins hit the edge of your bed and he tumbles you down, a dark grin spreading over his face as he watches you stretch out teasingly. He plants a knee into the soft bedding and braces both arms beside your head, leering over you. 

For a long breath, both of you study each other, eyes whisking over gleaming skin and the curves of your faces. Without the added heft of that blindfold Satoru’s snowy hair hangs loosely over his face, straight tendrils clinging to his brow, making him look younger, mellower, and so very handsome. Opting to take advantage of this lull, you reach up and thread your fingers into the silken strands.

When you reach the edge of his temple, you scrape your nails against his scalp, grinning as he lets a heavy exhale fall between his lips, cerulean eyes falling to a pleased half mast. “You’re trying to distract me,” he accuses, gliding a wide palm up your side. You shake your head and keep twirling his hair across your fingertips, marveling at his own softness. “No. I just like your hair.”

“That’s a first,” he snorts, cupping a palm underneath one of your breasts and pulling his thumb over the swelling bud of your nipple. “Here I am, trying to feel you up, and you’re too distracted by my hair to appreciate it. How rude.”

“Shut up,” you gasp out, arching into his hand as he tweaks and plucks at your pebbled tip. “You’re lucky I’m even… mmm… letting you do this.”

“Please. It was your idea, remember?”

Satoru lowers one of his braced arms, letting his weight fall heavily to one side as he keeps his deepening ministrations up. Your fingers are still buried in his hair when he drops his lips to your breast. You feel the flick of his tongue first, and the light tap has you bowing your back, gasping out a faint cry as his rough appendage continues to swipe and twirl over your sensitive flesh. Instinctively, your hands tug at his pearlescent strands and he tilts his head up, fixing you with a lazy stare. “That’s better, looks like I just need to refocus you, huh?” he muses, his words half garbled as he sucks your plump breast into his mouth. He keeps flicking his tongue over you as he suckles, lapping and nipping until you’re writhing under him. 

Once he’s satisfied, his free hand lowers to your grinding hips, forcing you to lay flat against the bed, switching his attention to the neglected twin, sucking and pressing open mouthed bites to your damp, shaking skin. 

A tight heat is coiling in your core and your thighs rub against each other, trying to cool the sharp pricks of arousal that are coursing through you. As soon as your hands fall from his head, Satoru picks up his pace, licking his sloppy tongue under your breasts and nibbling his way down your quivering stomach. “You’re still wearing way too much,” he scolds, fingers toying with the gold clasp of your pants. 

“It’s… oh… difficult to take things off when you… ah–won’t let me move more than two feet from you.” You’d meant it to sound a little firmer, but his constant touch is wearing down your focus, distracting you with brilliant flashes of his luminescent blues and whites. 

“Awe, (Y/N),” he whines, popping his hand against your hip, long fingers digging into your swelled curves. “That’s not fair. I told you, I always have my barrier up. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve touched someone, anyone? I mean really touched them?”

“Daw,” you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows and peering down at him. “You poor thing. The all powerful Satoru Gojo, too honed and practiced with his neutral technique that he can’t even hold anyone’s hand.” 

“Ha, such a jerk,” he laughs, exaggerating a wounded frown. “I bare my soul to you and this is how I’m treated?” 

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoff, yanking your legs from under him and popping up on your knees, hands reaching for him, curling under his jaw and urging him upwards. His eyes lock onto yours and the grin that tweaks the corner of his lips gives you an idea. “You said you wanted to touch more of me, right?”

As you wait for your answer, you scoot backwards, making him follow you across the bed, finally luring all of his sprawling form onto the cool sheets. “Mmhm,” he grunts, doing his best to keep close, teasing fingers inches from your skin at all times, always ready to stroke and cup each time you pause. When you hit the headboard you stop, studying his features, admiring the growing hunger that’s screaming its way out of his wide eyes.  

“You ever eaten a girl out?”

The question hangs for half a second and you can see his pupils dilate, the black threatening to swallow up the sky streaked blue of his eyes. Then, right when you’re about to tease him for his gaping mouth and flushed cheeks, he’s bowling past you, splaying out against the mattress and pulling you on top of him. 

“Fuck, that’s by far the best thing I’ve heard all day. Hell, all month. I’ll likely go to my grave thinking about that question. Ouch! Stop squirming, you’re kneeing me in the ribs.” 

“I wouldn’t… Satoru! I can’t breathe if you hold me like that!” His arms are like cables, all tensed muscle and raw strength as he pins you against his heaving chest, lips kissing and nipping at any part of you he can reach.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, sucking a bruise into your arched collarbone. “Hurry up and take your pants off. And don’t say you can’t do it like this, you’re a grade 1 sorcerer, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Is that going to be part of your teaching regime?” you smart, bucking your hips up so you can unclasp and wiggle your pants down your legs.

“Oooh, you’re right, that sounds good. Damn, I gotta start writing this shit down. That way I can have a whole list of euphemisms. Can you imagine? Molding young minds and helping them to stand up to all the bullshit that those so-called elders make everyone suffer under. All those rules and regulations, the stupid ins and outs they make us all jump through–”

“Hmm,” your voice falls to a gentle hum as you snatch at his chin, stilling his chatter with a single finger against his lips. “That sounds ambitious, but why don’t we take things a little slower, give that mind of yours something else to focus on?”

“Oh?” Satoru smirks, arching an ashen eyebrow at you. “Then you better get up here, before I get distracted again.”

“Don’t you mean down?”

“Huh, down? Ah, I see where the confusion is. Nah, I want you to ride my tongue, baby, so hurry up.” His long arms help him jerk you upward, easily lifting and enticing you forward. That early impatience is peeking out once more, and he pops his head up, nostrils flaring as your uncovered cunt drifts nearer. “Ah, God, I bet you’re so fucking wet. I can smell you from here. Come on, grab onto the headboard and let me get to it.”

Your legs shake as you plant them beside his head and you do your best to steady your pounding heart, pulling a thin stream of air through your parted lips. As soon as you touch the wood of the headboard, he’s gripping your thighs so tightly you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises behind. The tip of his nose is the first thing you feel, and it’s so close to your pulsing clit that you inadvertently cant your hips forward. “Ooh, sensitive, are we?” he crows, nestling himself under you, his breath hot against your dampened folds and wet curls. 

The following slick slurp of his tongue and the slow pass of his lips make your head tip back. He’s surprisingly gentle, slowly licking his way along your labia, pulling and sucking as he goes, teasing closer to that tight bud that’s waiting, just a little bit higher. 

At first, you worry about crushing him, too caught up in the placement of your weight to fall into the haze his mouth is begging you to slip into. But then his lips latch onto you, careful to mouth in time with the thud of your clit, suckling and squeezing until you can’t help but grind down, earning yourself a sharp groan that reverberates against your trembling skin. Using the weight of the headboard as leverage, you roll your hips over him, shifting in time with his well-placed rhythm. 

He’s good, but even the great Satoru Gojo isn’t perfect, not all the time.

When he nips at you a little too hard you shift back, depriving him of your wet heat, loving the petulant sighs and moans he gives you when you do. “Ah, sorry. Gimme a little more time,” he bargains, fingers sinking into the voluptuous curve of your ass, tying to urge you back over his glistening lips. “I’ll do better, (Y/N). Besides, I want you to cum for me. You taste so fucking good and I want it, I want all of it. Hey! Don’t be like that! I said I’d do better. Come back here.”

God, he’s such a brat. 

Every time you shift away he’s got another string of exasperated pleas ready, twitching his fingers and shaking his pale head at your impudence. “Less talking,” you moan, shivering as he delves his tongue into you, feeling his grin as your cunt squeezes around his intrusion. “Ok, ok,” he growls, using his brute strength to overpower your tensed legs. “Mmm, yes baby, ah–just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Fuck, you think as you sink your fingers into his hair, spurring him on, this feels way too good.

When he captures your clit between his teeth and tweaks the tip of his tongue against you, you can’t help but fall to pieces. Your orgasm hits you like a battering ram, seizing hold of your muscles as it rolls through you and scattering a faint spark of spots across your vision. Satoru’s arms wrap around your blindly pistoning hips, helping you to sink closer, ravenously slurping and swallowing down each wave of arousal that hits his gluttonous lips. 

You’re still shaking when he pulls out from under you, flipping you bonelessly under him as his hands finally rid himself of his clearly tented and damp pants. Your eyes are just clearing when you catch sight of him, studiously following that trail of white curls to his impressive length. His cock is long, curving proudly toward his chiseled stomach and bubbling a clear string of pre-cum from the flushed tip. You do your best to sit up, but as soon as he catches sight of your movement, his broad palm is pressing you back. “Ah-ah,” he taunts, stroking a hand over his swollen cock and wiping the last of your slick from his face against his shoulder. “Keep still for me, ‘kay?’” 

His wide palms spread your legs apart, and he soothes his fingertips along your skin as he tugs a few heady groans from himself. “Fuck, you look so good. You’re so goddamn pretty. When you were sitting there at the bar and you looked so fucking happy I couldn’t take my eyes off you, you just looked so nice. Haven’t even known you a week, and I’m already obsessed with hearing that laugh of yours. You put some kinda spell on me, huh? That what this is?”

“Ugh, stop talking, Satoru,” you threaten, watching the steady ebb and flow of his clenched fist. His cock looks so smooth and you’re desperate to reach for it, to take hold of velvety flesh and see how long it would take for the world’s strongest sorcerer to be putty in your hands. 

He arches a pale brow at your blatant stare. “You want it?”

“I want you,” you correct, and the smile that breaks across his handsome face makes your heart squeeze. 

“Awe, how can I possibly say no to that?” he asks, gleefully lining himself up with your slit. Despite his early eagerness, he’s taking his time with this part, running the bulbous head of his cock over you, gathering up some of your gossamer strands, slicking himself with your dripping arousal. “Sorry,” he amends when he makes another pass along your folds. “It’s been awhile and I want to take it all in. I don’t wanna rush this.”

“It’s fine,” you smile, lifting your hands to pass them over his stomach, watching as his muscles ripple under your delicate touch. “Just don’t take too long or you’re not going to be on top for much longer.”

“That a threat or a promise, baby?” Satoru leers, finally slipping his tip past that first, tight ring of your entrance. Despite his bravado, his lips curl over his teeth and he lets out a low hiss as he sinks into you, inch by shallow inch. The pressure of his cock makes you arch, legs automatically wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. He bows his head and his ethereal gaze falls behind his shaking eyelids as he thrusts forward, edging himself along until he bottoms out within you. Fuck, you feel so full.

The stretch of him makes you shake and you’re grateful he’s taking his time when he stills, lips smacking distracted kisses over your heated cheeks and parted lips, giving you time to adjust to him, and he to you. After a few steadying breaths, his teeth bite at the hollow of your throat and he pulls his hips back, grinning as your hands grasp into the sheets, a sharp whine escaping you. He echoes your sentiment, letting a gasping string of curses tumble from his shaking lips as he ruts forward again, one hand gripping at your right leg, prying you from his waist and slinging the trembling limb over his shoulder.

This angle has him pressing against something wonderful and sharp, and you can’t help but gasp out his name as he starts to methodically ram into it, over and over. You can feel him swell at the sound of your pleading moans and you savor the feel of his cock throbbing against your tender walls. “More,” you shudder, fingers trying to hurry his steady hips as he diligently cants into you. 

“In a minute,” he grunts, biting at your pliant skin, arms coiling under your back. “This feels too fucking good. Let me just… ah… fuck…” 

He slows, moving at a pace that sets your teeth on edge, and you thrash under him. Although his cock is digging against that aching place that’s sending dots and stars across your eyes, it��s not enough pressure. Licking your lips, you worm one of your hands between the two of you and pinch and roll your fingers over your clit, easing some of the tingling bittersweetness that’s pulsing over you. 

“Alright, alright, point taken,” Satoru chuckles, releasing your leg from his tight grip and re-lacing it around his hips. “How do you want it, baby? You want it fast? Or do you want it hard? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, peeking up at his enthralling cerulean, willingly ensnaring yourself in the intensity of his gaze. “I just want more of you.”

“Tch,” he hums, cupping a hand against your warm cheek. “Don’t say shit like that, I might end up falling for you.”

The laugh that echoes from your lips is swiftly cut off by a gasp as he abruptly ups the pace of his thrusts. He’s quick, but he’s still listening and watching for what you like. When you moan he’s right there with you, steadying his rhythm, and when you call out his name, he digs a little harder. 

It’s too much. It feels raw, like you’re scratching at a cut. Like there’s some itch that you just can’t reach. 

All of it, the feel of his meaty balls slapping against the sticky plushness of your ass, and those breathy moans makes your head spin. The intensity of the moment slips your fingers from your clit, but he makes up for their loss by grinding down each time he sinks into your cunt, scraping the hard edge of his pelvic bone against your throbbing bud. 

He’s good. Fuck.

You can feel the hazy slope of your orgasm approaching and you blindly arch up each time he careens downward, ensuring that he’s hitting right where you need him to. His movements start to hit a lull as he slips into his own fog of lingering pleasure, dipping his head to your neck and sighing contentedly when you kiss at his temple. But the tenderness of your touch must knock him out of his own whirring thoughts and he rewards you with another set of rapid fire thrusts, his lips pulling from your neck to seek out yours, kissing and nipping until you’re gasping for air. 

“Mmmm,” he moans, breath hot against your skin. “You feel so good and you’re getting so fucking tight. You gonna’ cum for me? One more time?”

You do your best to gulp out a reply, but the abrupt press of his calloused thumb against your clit makes you shake instead, a tingling rush of heady arousal racing its way up your spine. Smiling down at your awed expression, he lifts his fingers away and uncoils your legs from his waist, flinging them both over his broad shoulders, his knees settling forward as he continues to roughly thrusts his hips forward, driving you quivering body into the soft sheets. 

“You like that? Does it feel good? Does it? Fuck baby, I’m begging you, give it to me one more time. Can you do that for me? Can you cum for me? I want you to cum on my dick, ah, come on (Y/N), just once more, that’s all I’m asking. You can do it, can’t you?”

He’s rasping his questions against the shell of your ear, hands cupping at the side of your face, keeping you close as he races toward his own end, voice lifting into a frantic plea as he hurtles closer, desperate to feel your satisfaction rippling around him before he completely looses himself to the aching pleasure of your body. 

“I–” you choke out, arms lacing around his back, nails pressing half moons into his skin. He moans at the bite of your touch and tilts your hips upward, seeking more of you. 

That change is all it takes. 

The tip of his cock presses down, lifts, and then suddenly you’re seeing stars. 

“I’m… yes! Oh, fuck. Satoru, just like that. Don’t… don’t stop!” For once, he doesn’t tease. He just smiles, his face flushed, pale cheeks dusted a pleased pink and repeats the motion, careful to keep everything absolutely steady. The repeated push and pull, the warmth of your cunt, the feel of your skin, it’s making his cock throb and his heart race, but he’s determined to see you break. 

There. There it is. Fuck, you’re so pretty.

On an outward pull of his hips, your back arches and your thighs tense and he lets out a long growl, quickly breaking his fastidious rhythm and sinking back into you, gasping as you flutter around him. A new flush of wetness leaks out of your cunt and squelches between your pinned legs, dripping over the cleft of your ass.

He only lasts a few extra ruts, but the feel of him swelling and pulsing inside your tender pussy almost topples you over the edge again and you cling to him in the aftermath of his release, your heaving breasts catching against his flat pectorals. 

With a quick peck, he slowly lowers your legs and eases himself out of you, blue eyes widening at the sight of his softening hardness leaving your leaking pussy. “I don’t know which I like better,” he contemplates, leaning back on his haunches and slicking his index finger up the pooling dribble you’ve both left behind, spreading the spidery traces across his hand. “You wet and dripping for me or filled to the brim with my cum.” His lewd comment makes you huff out a low groan of exasperation and you roll off of the bed, shaking your head as you steady yourself and walk toward the bathroom. 

After a brisk rinse in the shower, you pad back into the darkened room, fully expecting to see an empty bed. You’re not sure why that’s your first thought, but something about Satoru doesn’t scream: I’m the kind of guy who likes post coitus cuddles. So the sight of him, bundled under your sheets, white hair poking just above the edge of the blankets, is a surprise.

“Oh,” you pause, dropping your towel on the floor as you openly gape at him. “You’re still here… I, well, I figured you’d take off.”

“Huh?” Satoru croaks, popping his head up, his face comically askew. “What kinda guy do you think I am?”

“Apparently the kind that stays over,” you snicker, digging around for your discarded bra and panties. 

He lets out a mock gasp, popping a hand against his cheek. “How could you say that! And after I gallantly brought you back here?”

“And fucked me,” you remind him, slipping your lacy underwear back on and re-adjusting the clasp of your bra.

“That too!” he qualifies, arching a pale eyebrow at your impassive face. “I’d say I was pretty generous. You did cum twice after all.”

“Oh my God,” you sigh, crossing your arms across your chest and perching beside the edge of the bed, shaking your head at the sprawling man under your covers.

“Come on, you wouldn’t seriously make me walk all the way back to the school at this hour. What if something happens to me? How could you live with yourself, knowing you kicked me out into the cold?”

“It’s summer,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “And you’re… what six foot three… and you have the legendary six eyes… I mean, I think you’ll be ok.”

“(Y/N),” Satoru begins, narrowing those bright blue eyes at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is it your habit to sleep with helpless guys and then kick them out? You’re so cruel.”

“Stop it,” you warn, snatching at the sheets and yanking them off of his naked form.

“No!” he protests, fingers clutching vainly at the thin cover. “Your bed is so nice! Come on, I’ll be good and I don’t snore. Well, not that I know of anyway…”

“Ugh, fine. I don’t have the energy for this and we have to be up in four hours. Just shush and scoot over.”

“Oh? Do you not have the energy because I fucked it out of you?”

“I’m sorry, were you wanting to stay the night?” 

“Alright, alright,” he splays his hands up in supplication and makes room for you, watching closely as you curl up beside him, a smile playing over his lips. “Hey,” he asks once you’ve closed your eyes, leaning close to your reposed form. 

“What?” you groan, cracking an eye open.

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Satoru…”

“Mmhm?”

“Shut up.”

notes: hehe. i feel like he’d be so freaking chatty in bed. plus, how could i not make him a little touched starved? stop making me like characters that just wanna be held universe, gosh :3c

[liquid-luck-00]

Do you think you could write an Au where Bruce Wayne is Marinette's bio!dad, but they don't learn that until she interns under Tony Stark, please?

@jumpingjoy82

Okay so disclaimer I mainly know marvel through fanfics and a couple of the MCU movies. Having said that this was a fun write hope you like it.

Oh and Marinette knows Tom isn’t her bio dad. Tony is Sabine’s cousin.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette was a lot of things. She was a dancer, a gymnast, a bio chem major, an engineer, an amateur detective, a superhero, and completely over her class at idiots who followed a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Marinette was actually done with high school. In fact she was two years into her first Masters degree along with skipping two years. Making her two years younger than the sheep in her class and at least four years younger than those in her university class.

Mari was sitting in the back of the class during her last period when she received an email and several texts, thank kwamii her phone and tablet were on silent.

She decided to open her email first.

You have been selected as one of the lucky seven applicants to study and intern at Stark Industries for two weeks this summer. Below is the date, location, and mentor you will report to. We hope to meet you then. -Sincerely Co-CEO Virginia Potts

She would have answered her text had the projector not began to glitch and calling her name. "Mari bug answer your phone!"

'Ugh' she sighed running her hands down her face. "I would have Uncle T if you hadn't started yelling from the projector!"

"But Peps just told me and..."

"Wait," her head snapped up. "How many screens are you projecting on." She started to look around, her uncle, who never not used the camera unless... Then she saw the Iron Man suit.

"I dunno maybe the whole school, the city, the country I don't know."

"Ya I'm not dealing with this at least not here." She walked down the stairs her bag packed hung from her shoulders. "Oh and Uncle T, fe...male 4 o'clock." He began to sputter but she didn’t stay in the classroom and walked out without looking back.

Thank kwamii that her uncle was only projected in her class. It did have the unfortunate side effect of her class sending confused and curious looks at her. Even Lila seemed to stop her tirade for a while. But all good things must come to an end.

"Alright do I have all the permission slips for the summer graduation trip." Miss Bustier started counting the slips. “Marinette your permission slip is missing."

"I'm aware."

"If you want to go you need it in by the end of the day."

"Seriously Mari, if you want us to beg you to come save it. We don't want a bully on this trip wit us." Alya huffed before Marinette could speak.

"One only my friends call me Mari, you are not one of them so it's Marinette to you Cesaire. Two you save it I don't want to hear any of you beg me for anything. Finally three, I already had plans for this summer. So this trip I’ll be a no show so have fun."

“Y...Yes but this is a class trip,” Miss Bustier stammered.

“I understand that but it would still be a class trip even if I don’t go.” Was Marinette’s retort.

Miss Bustier would have continued had her Uncle not burst into the room. Her head was now banging against the desk. To his credit he was not in a suit, Iron Man suit included. He was in more ‘Civilian wear' with a baseball cap and shades.

"Ready to go Bug! I already signed you off."

"How mad is Auntie Pepper going to be when she finds out you came to Paris." She was now next to him at the door still in the classroom.

"Pete's here!" He shouted.

"Fine our secret." She smiled leaving the class behind without a wave or goodbye.

---

Interning with her Uncle Tony was great. Especially because she could get his input on her projects and learn from him directly.

It also helped that she stayed in Avenger's Tower and that ment leaving for akuma's was easy and was expected. Every summer she would spend with her uncle for the past five years. Meaning that they knew when she became Ladybug since it's kind of hard to keep a secret identity from FRIDAY, who is constantly monitoring the tower.

On the plus side that meant she had adult guidance and mentors.

"Mari bag mind going to pick up the Bats and Hood?”

"Suit?"

"Suit."

she left and was swinging between the sky scrapers, until she landed at the meet up point. She didn't have to wait long.

"Who are you?" Red helmet, so Red Hood, asked.

"I'm Ladybug. My guess is he just sent that bug was going to meet you guys."

"That's night how did you know?"

"There's three bugs at the tower right now Black Widow, Spider Man, and me so it's understand able, come on."

They made their way to the tower and she dropped her transformation. "If you guys want to change FRIDAY will guide you." she faced them, smiled, and walked off.

---

Something had been bothering him since he first saw the girl, Ladybug. Two days had passed and that feeling was not going away.

"Don't even think about it Bruce." Tony glared at him. "You are not adopting her she already has loving parents."

"I wasn't... why would you think that."

"We told you you have a problem B!" Jason yelled from across the room. "So what is your name anyway everyone just calls you either Maribug, Buginette, or just bug."

"Those all sound more like nicknames," Bruce now added having made his way across the room with Tony.

"That's because they are," she gave them a bored and a 'duh' look. "My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

A memory flashed in his mind from 16 years ago.

"You wouldn't happen to know a Sabine Cheng?" Bruce asked.

Now both Marinette and Tony turned on him and the glare Marinette was giving him. Well he would recognize it anywhere, he trademarked it after all.

"Why would you ask that?" Tony was the first to answer, but not soon after Marinette spoke.

"Yes. She's my mother." Then she looked at him as if she were analyzing him. "Oh fuck" she groaned.

"Language!"

"Oh not now or kwamii help me I will beat you to a pulp later during sparing Uncle Steve."

"I'll bring the popcorn." Natasha piped.

“You’re not helping.” Steve argued.

“We both know she can take you. She added as they left the room.

"Mari Sweetie, what's up."

"Eyes, hair, build, complexion"

"Glare," he added.

"Not helping but yes. Ya know apparently being a hero is genetic," She had began to laugh.

"No don't tell me, that my sweet smart niece is related to..." Tony Just motioned at him not finding the right words.

"Ya well it looks that way uncle Tony."

"B. Demon spawn is not going to be happy." Jason scolded once he seemed to grasp the concept. "Hey at least you have a kid who already knows your a vigilante and a hero to boot.” Jason grinned.

Of all the ways Mari had thought she would meet her biological father, this was not one of them. Who would have thought interning with her uncle would lead to meeting her father. This is by far better than a class trip with those sheep she calls classmates.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @miraculouspenta

[dcuniverse-fanatic]

What they’re like when they’re sleeping II.

A/n: hello!!!! it’s been so long :) here’s the little something i said i would post two weeks ago akshakagfs. i am not a head cannon writer!!!!! (despite it being the majority of my master list lmfaoo) but i currently hate everything i write!!! however comma!! these are fun and easy to write and i am sick and i need comfort and what do i do when i need comfort????? i read head cannons!!!! so let’s hyper analyze the batboys’ psyche (kinda) through their sleep!!!!!! enjoy!!!!

Dick Grayson

Fetal poison! I like to think that despite his very very big exterior and personality that he so overcompensates with, he has a very very mushy interior! I think that he hates being vulnerable and open and weak and that he puts up a wall, so to speak. (But not shutting people out, he likes to include people and make them trust him) But when he sleeps he subconsciously, still, has this, unprincipled need to keep protecting himself from being open. He clutches his arms tight and holds his legs together and up toward his rib cage. I don’t think that all of this is the reason why he chooses to cocoon himself, however. He also sleeps in an alarmingly cold temperature setting. But if we can pie chart it, it’d be 86% isolation coping mechanism and 14% ungodly, outrageous, barbaric room temp!!!!

Jason Todd

I honestly think he sleeps in any poison given that he can get himself to bed in the first place. But if he had the liberty of choosing, i think he’d go with starfish, and on his stomach. It’s why he has terrible posture and does nothing but complain about his back and neck problems (of which he should have none to begin with he’s quite limber but..) All his vital organs are also in his belly which for safety reasons, sleeping on your stomach is quite strategic and thought out but i wouldn’t give him the credit of thinking all that out . He’s just slept on his stomach since childhood, when bruce took him in. The big bed space and quite, safe atmosphere made for a quite sloppy, carefree sleeping position. Now as an adult he takes up so much space!!!!!. He is very tall and his wing span is pretty sizable, considering. I also think that because of the Lazarus, he runs pretty warm so sleeping in a starfish position makes it easier for him to ‘air himself out’ so to speak. However hot he may be, he still won’t sleep with a fan on, because he doesn’t like the white noise. BUT, coincidentally, if a fan is on somewhere, he would still sleep there. Either because he is too tired to care, or he just,,,, lacks the spatial awareness at that moment.

Tim Drake

He’s a side sleeper!!!!!! His shoulders do NOT thank him for it. However, it has absolutely nothing to do with comfort, and apparently everything to do with practicality (in his mind anyway)he sleeps like that to save space.... For his various files and papers and electronics and whatever else he had for dinner there as well. So in essence, he’s sleeping on his side because he’s too lazy or tired or busy (or all the above, ding ding ding) to move everything he’s strewn all over his bed. He can wake up, work, and fall asleep in the same exact spot if he had to. He also sleeps in a twin bed!!!! god knows why but he’s so anal about saving space in his room for anything, anything except some nice furniture. not even a plant. And even then, his room is absolutely impossible to navigate through to anyone except for him. Need a pencil? He has one under his nightstand, to the right.

Damian Wayne

As far as his memory can go back, he’s always slept on his back. Something about being able to protect oneself from any direction if attacked. He can sleep and wake up in the exact same position without even flinching. (also he isn’t asleep the whole night though, there’s some level of awareness he’d been trained to keep) He sleeps with his arms to his side, with minimal pillows and sheets, since he finds them suffocating. But i think beyond that, beyond the training and self preservation and the forever ingrained childhood habits, he’s scared of... bad posture. Out of all the bad habits you can imagine, i think bad posture is one he can’t mentally let go of. He sits in a proper 90° on a chair, even STOOLS. Stretches before going to sleep AND after waking up. He sleeps so still and so quietly that you’d think he’s practicing for his coffin.

[aenngelic]

I will protect her at all costs (chapter 1)

contains: slow burn, falling in love, inner monologue, snipers thoughts, sniper having a crush on Kuon, sexual fantasies, panties, nudity

The sun was just rising over the sea of skyscrapers, as I was placing another cigarette between my lips. The second the sun rose above the large complex of buildings in front of me, rays of sunlight dazzled my field of vision. Everything was immersed in a soft orange tone for a brief moment, so that it almost seemed as if this place was not another reality, in which previously normal members of this society would massacre each other.

This was also the same color the sky had taken on when I first met her. She, a high school student with blue hair and eyes that could also belong to a puppy dog. Kuon Shinzaki. She generally spreads the aura as if she could not even harm a fly. The girl seems to be one of the few who have managed to get closer to God and strangely enough possesses the ability not to be attacked by angels like me. This must probably be the reason why I am unexpectedly accompanying her. At first, I thought it was a temporary solution, but it has been almost a week since we joined forces.

Due to my memory loss because of the mask I have to wear, I probably don't have a very good knowledge of human nature. But sometimes I get the feeling that she would fancy me. The way the blood rushed to her cheeks when she looked at me, I must admit, sometimes caused me to feel embarrassed. In those moments I was very happy to have to wear my mask. However, there was no room for feelings in this world. Here, after all, it was a matter of naked survival, which is why I preferred to keep my distance.

I performed a 180° turn to face the young girl, who was only a few meters away from me, leaning against the wall of the building and seeming to be sleeping. Her legs, meanwhile, were bent and she had them tightly embraced with her arms, while her chin was resting on her knees. That she was able to sleep so peacefully in this place at all astonished me somewhat. Soon it would be time to move on. However, as my wary gaze accidentally wandered down the girl's body, my cigarette almost got stuck in my throat. She was bending her legs and wearing a miniskirt... I could see her panties!

I almost felt guilty for being unintentionally confronted with this sight, and even more guilty when I peeked over a second time. It was white, with small lacy rims, and was so tight fitting that I could make out a silhouette of her labia. Her thighs were completely revealed, looking quite feminine and perfectly shaped, I had to admit as I was inspecting them further. I had noticed Kuon's significant physique before, but intended not to dwell on it any longer. Now that I was presented with this image, however, I admittedly found it difficult to ignore her attractiveness. But an adult feasting on the sight of a high school girl's panties? That is absolutely uncool. Further, I wasn't even sure how old I was, but, that I was older than Kuon, I became aware pretty quickly. Now I was the one who felt the blood rush to his cheeks and before I could gather my senses again, I must have inhaled some cigarette particles. I started to gasp.

„Mr. Mask?", I suddenly heard a high, soft voice ask. "Is everything okay?"

As soon as I began to disturb this morning silence, Kuon was already on her feet, looking at me anxiously with her puppy dog eyes.

" Everything is fine, Kuon." I managed to push out, "I think I just swallowed something.

" I am relieved to hear that. I had already feared worse."

" but now that you're awake, it's a good time to move on. I imagine we might get some unexpected visitors soon if we don't."

Rays of sunshine made the young girl's big eyes sparkle as she gave me a smile and nodded. She took a step forward and we began heading for the bridge on the east side of the roof almost in unison. Had she not noticed that her panties could be seen? Careless girl, I just thought to myself. But for some reason I couldn't completely banish the sight of her panties from my mind. I suspected that this was probably the most interesting thing that had come before my eyes in a long time. Was I actually attracted to this frivolous girl?

We began to investigate the building nearby. However, it did not take long until we both found the first battle victims. In a narrow corridor lay no less than three corpses, two of which had stab wounds and one of which had a gunshot wound. They were ordinary people whose fresh blood larche stained the entire floor red and unfortunatelyalso my Budapest. I quickly realized that the fight might have happened a few hours ago, and that the other high school girls Kuon wanted to join were probably not among the perpetrators, I concluded. This had to be the work of a masked man.

I didn't even have to turn around to feel the fear-filled aura of my companions behind me. Kuon Had stopped at the beginning of the hallway and was looking at the three dead people in front of her, visibly terrified. She clearly hadn't been confronted with death much since she found herself in this world, as no real reason to fight had presented itself to her yet either. It was strange, but when Kuon felt bad, I immediately felt it like a chill running down my spine. Until now, however, I had not been sure if this was also one of her special abilities or if she was just good at expressing her feelings. It was hard to endure watching this girl tremble with fear.

"How could this... How could this happen?" she whispered in a shaky voice.

Before I could calm Kuon down, I first had to secure the surroundings. After all, the enemy could still be in the nearby area. When I was sure that there was no possible danger, I turned my attention to the blue-haired girl. She hadn't moved an inch from the spot. Was she really that scared? I put my hand on Kuon's head to comfort her,

"Everything is safe. Don't worry."

Then suddenly, to my surprise, the girl pressed tightly against my torso and clung to my tie with her right hand while burying her face in my chest. It was hard not to notice how her whole body shook with fear. I think I'm already a little numb from the sight of blood and corpses, forgetting that there are still people out there like Kuon who process things a little more sensitively than I do. Normally I find such highly emotional behavior extremely annoying, but Kuon strangely makes me want to protect her with everything I have. A girl like her is not yet polluted by the sad and brutal reality of this world. Does this mean that I like her? I mean, what does liking mean anyway? Wanting to protect someone at all costs is also a good trait for a pretty cool guy like me, I thought to myself before trying to analyze my feelings further.

The intensity with which she pressed her breasts against my chest, I was unable to overlook, however. I could feel her soft, not quite small breasts and once again I felt my cheeks turning red. She couldn't tell me that she was acting so lewdly by accident. Or could she? My breath was taken away, but I tried to maintain my unwavering charisma. After all, I had to protect her.

"Mr. Mask? Why must there be so much cruelty in this world?" , Kuon asked me as she buried her face even deeper into my shirt. I could hardly understand her. If only I knew an answer to that question, Kuon, I thought to myself.

" I would like to know that too. But it's no use being sad about it. If we keep a cool head and act smart, we might escape this world someday," I explained, hoping to comfort her.

Her big dog eyes met my gaze as she looked up at me in the next second. Kuon was still trembling as if a new ice age had just arrived, but the corners of her mouth now formed a smile so that she was shining across both cheeks.

"Do you think we could be friends in the real world after all this?"

I didn't know why, but for some reason it surprised me to hear that question from her. It kind of shocked me to know that she liked me so much and at the same time it triggered a certain feeling in me because moments before I had been thinking about her breasts. If I hadn't lost my memory almost completely and still knew who I had been before entering this reality, I certainly would have been able to answer that question.

"I don't know." , I replied "I don't really like hanging out with kids."

I felt the girl's body, which had been clinging to me like a piece of chewing gum, suddenly separate from me. Her wide smile had now turned into a pout.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" she growled, visibly incensed, forming her small hands into fists.

If there was one thing that couldn't be taken seriously, it was Kuon's anger. When she was angry, she rather resembled a little puppy that had just learned to bark. Kind of cute.

I let out a dark chuckle and laid my hand once again briefly on her head before I made a turn from her.

"We should not stay here any longer. Come, let's see if there is an emotionless mask nearby. Are you hungry?"

"I'm always hungry, I think," she murmured, visibly disappointed that I had not patted her any longer.

[popurikat]

Newtmas essay when?

Finally getting to this, thanks for waiting, I needed to go over a few bookmarks. (Warning, this post contains spoilers from the MAZE RUNNER book and FEVER CODE book, so if you haven’t read either or yet and want the jist of my analysis; just know that in general the fandom interpreting Newt as gay before it was revealed on a twitter post was not just a random headcanon and that Thomas in general is portrayed to have very strong unconditional love for Newt throughout the series; and it shows. To the point that even the director for the movie has stated that Newt and Thomas have a strong bond and portrays that in the movies. I will also preface that I am NOT adding personal opinion anywhere here, these are just backings from quotes and how they are thus meant to be taken/read as. My words are taken as a reader who is currently reading Scorch Trials has yet to fully read Death Cure or Crank Palace.) Anways, without further ado at 3AM today, I’ll try my best to explain how even though Dashner tries his best to make Thomas have other, female love interests; he creates a not so subtle gay subtext for Tommy boy here when in the context of interacting with Newt throughout the lore. Apologies beforehand for any grammar mistakes along the way.

To commence, I am going to start with FEVER CODE, as its supposed to act as the story’s preface to the actual events that play out later. Newt and Thomas upon meeting each other describe their presence as “familiar” and or as a “long lost friend” and they genuinely hit it off from the start to the point that Newt is okay with having Thomas see him cry over the fact that he and his sister are separated since he is doomed to be WCKD’s control analysis as he’s the only one lacking immunity from the flare itself. Once Newt is done being emotionally vulnerable we get our first instance of his personal nickname for Thomas: “That’s the way things are Tommy,’ he said his voice not quite steady. ‘The world outside’s gone to hell. Why should we expect any different here? [...] He said it as if they’d been friends for years” (ch. 14).   An interesting note here is that Thomas doesn’t bother to correct him or stifle the moment by feeling that all this information was too much, he genuinely wanted to hear Newt out and is fine with seeing this side of him; if not slightly taken aback by how natural it is that they can converse about such aspects of their lives. In fact, Newt makes such an impact on Thomas that Thomas ends up that same night dreaming of him: “Throughout his shortened night, he dreamed of Newt and Sonya. Of Newt and Lizzy“(Ch. 14). The thing with Thomas though is that the idea of comfort and connection is very foreign to him as he’s been basically isolated all his life with only the adults like Ava to talk to and the one exception being Teresa as his only kid companion. So Thomas didn’t even think he could make others like him for being himself unless they were vital to the overall production of WCKD. Seeing this portion right before the end of chapter 14: “Alby, Minho, Newt, Teresa. Thomas had friends.” shows that Thomas really had to deep dive to see how he deals with personal connections and why he was excited about the notion of friendship. He could’ve been happy with just Teresa, but only fully cemented her bond to him as “friend�� when his circle grew and these kids he got to hang with taught him he can be himself, a concept he didn’t realize was possible when all his life was dictated on what he was supposed to learn or do. It becomes especially clear just how controlled his life is with the aspect of sentiment when later on Teresa’s mental communication evokes physcial pain and fear in Thomas. I’ll get back to that later as its more of a small tid bit of Thomas’ view on his forced love interest, Teresa. And yes, I say forced because multiple sentences with Thomas have him even wish he could cease all communication with her. Moving on, let’s talk about mimicking for a second. As humans, we mimic as a behavioral response to become closer to the person we care about. It’s the reason why yawning or laughter is contagious and or why we copy the posture of the person we converse with face to face. Thomas is seen to do this the most with Newt’s quirks. I’ll give the example in chapter 15: “Newt has been promising them that he was saving something special, and he did that annoying zipped-lipped sign every time [...] the little light in his eyes showed he enjoyed every second of their torture” versus Thomas: “Thomas did Newt’s zipped-lipped gesture, and that got him a sharp poke in the ribs”. So, we know enough that Thomas’ mannerisms are developing as a sign that he wants to be closer to Newt and to continue this sense of playfulness they both enjoy from the other. This is the start of their budding bond and a clear indication that they hold each other at greater fondness than the rest through this unconscious copying. Through this copying, they also pick up on emotional cues the other lets up on. Newt is especially good at noticing small things like when Thomas is anxious or overthinking: “He was just shocked that with all their exploring, the others hadn’t already discovered it on their own. And there were supposed to be TWO mazes. How had Newt and his friends not stumbled upon either one of them? ‘Tommy?’ Thomas realized Newt was staring straight at him, eyebrows raised. ‘Sorry,’ he said embarrassed, ‘wandered off for a second there what did you say?’ Newt shook his head in admonishment. ‘Try to keep up, Tommy Are you ready to see the grat outdoors?” (ch. 15). Also in chapter 23: “Tommy?’ It was Newt, breaking him out of his thoughts. ‘I can see your wheels spinnin’ up there.’ He tapped the side of his head”. This furthers Newts perceptiveness on his friend and Thomas’ ability to pick out when he is being looked after. And they bounce off each other really well in that aspect. To the point that Newt can crack a joke he knows will land right on Thomas’ sense of humor: “Newt waggled his fingers in front of Thomas’ face [...] A laugh exploded out of Thomas’ mouth that sent a spray everywhere. ‘Sorry’ he said, wiping his lips on his sleeve” (ch.15). It’s enjoyable to know that at least at a surface level, they have fun together and can cheer the other up if needed or know when to ground the other to reality. It is also through these instances that as a reader I pick up that Thomas’ nervous ticks perhaps allude to an anxiety disorder he has; of which Newt is aware of and never puts Thomas down on for exhibiting. He in fact understands it and deals with it accordingly as he himself has a similar circumstance. SO, what does all this paying attention lead to? Thomas’ devotion to protect Newt. Yeah, thats right I said devotion. Thomas’ actions are influenced by his developed instinct to protect Newt at all costs. Here is the biggest example that comes to mind: “What in the world happened to Newt? -- Less then two hours later, Thomas had spliced together a series of camera clips [...] Thomas turned off the feed. He couldn’t take it anymore...Newt, Newt, Newt, Thomas thought, feeling as if the very air around him were turning black.”(ch.52). Essentially, Thomas seeing Newt plummet to his near death by falling from the maze wall as a result of Newt’s ongoing depressive state, this is the moment that makes Thomas realize WICKD isn’t as good as they seem and that he is going into the maze to save Newt. Its admirable how much self sacrifice Thomas does for someone he cares so much about, to the point that their name is like a mantra. Thats a sensible area of passion and fighting spirit for someone who is “just a friend”.    Oh and, the feeling of fondness is mutual mind you if I haven’t been clear. After experiencing the horrors of cranks for the first time, realizing Newt was not immune, and watching Newt until they entered the pits it has been months since they last interacted; this is their first reunion: “What’s up Tommy?’ Newt exclaimed, his face filled with genuine happiness at the pleasant surprise that’s been sprung on him. Thomas couldn’t remember exactly how long it’d been since he’d seen Newt. ‘You look bloody fantastic for three in the morning” (ch. 23). I need to preface this that Newt DOES NOT mean that sarcastically and that out of all the people in the room (Minho, Chuck and Teresa are there in this scene), Thomas only reacts this way specifically toward seeing Newt is okay and back.   The characters are also not afraid of being physically close. “Well, look who the bloody copper dragged in,’ Newt said, pulling Thomas into a big hug” (ch.31), “They shook hands, and then the two of them set off...” (ch. 31), and my favorite: “Thomas jumped at the sound, then stumbled. Newt tripped over him, and then they were both laughing, legs and arms tangled in a pile on the ground”(ch.32). I don’t think this far in the novel, Thomas has been AS (emphasis on as) comfortable with touch  with anyone else other than Newt. And thats a big step forward on the aspect of trust in a relationship, being able to be comfortable with the presence of another person enough to be as intimate with them as shown here.  And all this, is just fever code itself. Mind you this is not the MEAT of the novels as it came out later. But even without it, lets look at Thomas in Maze now, I’ll try to keep this segment a lot more brief. Here’s Thomas looking respectively at boys his age: “A tall kid with blond hair and a square jaw...a thick, heavy muscled Asian kid folded his arms as he studied Thomas, his tight shirtsleeves rolled up to show off his biceps [...] Newt was taller than Alby too, but looked to be a year or so younger, His hair was blond and cut long, cascading over his T-shirt. Veins stuck out of his muscled arms”(ch. 2). Thomas’ initial reaction to being surrounded by boys is to deeply analyze their rugged good looks and heavily emphasize their best physical traits. When reading this the first time, my mind immediately thought this boy at the very least is supposed to be portrayed as bi, especially when later down the line Teresa gets a similar descriptor: “...despite her paleness, she was really pretty...silky hair, flawless skin, perfect lips, long legs.” So right off the bat, we know that be it boy or girl, Thomas emphasizes how attractive someone looks in his eyes when he truly does have a sense of attraction to them. Case closed. Within the same chapter we get Thomas also immediately clinging onto Newt for a sense of grounding, it is now ingrained in him at this point that the boy is his lifeline, a person to rely on. “Thomas looked over at Newt, hoping for help.” And help he does, Newt in this chapter helps ease his worries, explain a general idea of what the glade is and even pats him on the shoulder a bit to ease tension. And Thomas doesn’t bat an eye in the same way he’s weary of literally everyone else. In fact, he’s eager to stay put with him as shown with; “If Newt went up there, then I wanna talk to him.” And if none of that seals the deal, we got early bird Newt being so touch starved he flattens himself next to Thomas to wake him up at the crack of Dawn in chapter 6: “Someone shook Thomas awake. His eyes snapped open to see a too-close face staring down at him, everything around them still shadowed by the darkness of early morning...’Shh, Greenie. Don’t wanna be waking up Chuckie, now, do we?’ It was Newt --the guy who seemed second in command; the air reeked of his morning breath. Though Thomas was surprised, any alarm melted away immediately”. This whole scene follows firstly by Thomas once again impressed by how strong Newt is and then Newt giving him a rundown of what everyone else was too afraid to show Thomas, the grievers. And you know, this scene could’ve ended well and everything as totally platonic, but then we have “Newt turned to look at him dead in the eye. The first traces of dawn had crept up on them, and Thomas could see EVERY DETAIL OF NEWT’S FACE, HIS SKIN TIGHT, HIS BROW CREASED.” Now, look me in the eye and tell me there is a hetero explanation on looking at your best bro like they are the sun reincarnated themselves. But let’s not hog all the homosexual undertones with Thomas here. Wanna know what Newt’s initial reaction to having a girl in the glade was? “It’s a girl,’ he said [...] Newt shushed them again. ‘That’s not bloody half of it,’ he said, then pointed down into the box. ‘I think she’s dead” (ch.8). It’s actually a stark contrast to the other gladers eagerly wanting to know her age, how pretty she looked, and calling dibs to date her; Newt isn’t interested in any of that, he’s more perplexed on her status and not even bothering to remark on her looks, he was the only one not to and even remarks a few other instances that girls are more Thomas’ domain. For instance, he makes a joke in fever code when Thomas remarks that the girls in the institution were going to tackle him down, Newt proceeds to point out sarcastically something along the lines of “wait, isn’t that YOUR dream though?” So Newt is pretty out spoken of his disinterest in girls, and his full admiration and attention on Thomas. Oh, and yes, Newt immediately switches over to “Tommy” the moment Thomas mentions he hates being called greenie, and once again it just becomes a thing between only the two of them. Newt is also the one to be straight forward about the whole Runners business. He warns Thomas about the dangers and doesn’t necessarily turn him down on his desire to be one, he in fact encouraged him to just wait until the right moment. “No one said you couldn’t, but give it a rest for now”(ch. 15). So once again, Newt is the voice of confidence and reason for Thomas to prosper. In turn, this time around Thomas is the one to catch when something is bothering Newt. For instance, “Newt chewed his fingernails, something he hadn’t seen the older boy do before...he was genuinely concerned -- Newt was one of the few people in the Glade he actually liked ”(ch.16). Interesting how we went from fever code “friend” to “like”. And also, when Newt explains his concern about the runners not coming back yet, Thomas pieces together how scared Newt is of the Maze without being told and goes to stand next to him as a physical presence to ground Newt as they wait near the entrance. In fact, this piece is trivial to understand why Thomas does what he does next. When everyone else had given up on the Runners still outside with 2 minutes left til closing, and Newt was escorted away from the entrance, Thomas waited. And when Thomas saw them, he yells to Newt, realizes he’s too far to do anything, and makes a decision himself. He KNEW how much Newt cared about his fellow Gladers, they were like family or “kin” as its said in the book, so what does he do? “Don’t do it Tommy! Don’t you bloody do it!’ ... Thomas knew he had no choice. He moved. Forward. He squeezed past the connecting rods at the last second and stepped into the maze”(ch.16). Yes, Thomas does this because of his empathy for the Gladers, but the chain reaction of Newt’s concern is what sets his decision in stone. And yet again, Thomas enters the maze for Newt.  And that’s pretty much the constant for the rest of Maze Runner the book, Newt just sticking up for Thomas and Thomas in turn just being happy that: “He was at least relieved that Newt was there” (ch.17). And thats basically their entire dynamic. Newt just going: “If you really did help design the maze Tommy, it’s not your fault. You‘re a kid -- you can’t help what they forced you to do” to ease the survivor’s trauma Thomas has, as well as saying “I actually believe you. You just don’t have an ounce of lying in those eyes of yours. And I can’t bloody believe I’m about to say this...but I’m going back in there to convince those shanks we should go through the griever hole, just like you said”(ch.51); and I think thats the most romantic thing to hear from him. Just right out being all for supporting Thomas no matter what happens as long as he stays alive and continues to fight, he doesn’t care about what happened before. And Thomas eats that up because it fuels him even more to seek out a means to escape for the people (Newt) that deserve a life outside of running from monsters forever. So essentially, I’ll state again, it’s always been Newt the catalyst for Thomas to run head first into the Maze and seek freedom. And with all this I can clear that these two are shown to if not be romantically involved, at least have unconditional love for the other that transcends the author’s original intention.  And with that in mind, here’s the thing with Teresa as a love interest. I can list here quotes of every time she mind speaks to Thomas and how that affects him, but then this would be too long. And this is a newtmas post gosh darn it. Teresa is gleeful to humiliate, control, hurt, and force Thomas to believe they’re in love. In multiple instances we get her barging into his mind unwarranted making him understand that she has full access to his inner most thoughts. Theres nothing romantic about that, and I think its why Thomas ends up being so perceptive to the smallest of gestures that allow him to think on his own and feel like his own person. Something I’ve seen Brenda do later in scorch, and something I’ve seen Newt do since the very beginning is that they allow Thomas to come to his own conclusions in order to create his own opinions on the matters at hand. Thomas’ love language revolves around words of affirmation. He likes it when people confirm his thoughts are valid and that remind him that WICKD can’t hurt him anymore now that he has the power to be his own person. This is where Newt comes in very handy. He allows Thomas to grow in ways his female love interests have yet to show, sorry Brenda but I’ve heard you were trying to unite all immunes together to the safe haven by the end and in a sense still only using Thomas to get by; I still think she was the better call than teresa of course and I have no remorse for Teresa getting smushed by a boulder. But essentially my point here is that, how do you fail to make your initial love interests clash so badly where one has no real care about the others well being so long as everything goes according to WCKD by using a form of gaslighting and manipulation? AND THOMAS HAS STATED HIS DISCOMFORT ON THIS MULTIPLE TIMES, but the narrative always erases these instances from his mind in place of pity for Teresa’s well being (as you can tell, Teresa through this becomes my least favorite character, I can rant about her some othe time though with proper backing). The narrative in turn treats it all like a joke. I understand there are scenes where Thomas is worried about her and looks out to make sure shes ok, but even then he doesn’t know how to react with mental images of her kissing his cheek or when she screams the next minute that she doesn’t know who he is or how hes speaking into her mind. And thats because they can’t properly communicate their emotions to the other, not even in fever code could Thomas give a forward answer if he loved Teresa or not, she just assumed. Come to think of it, Thomas really doesn’t show much affection to Teresa of his own accord. So then, how DOES Thomas show his affection? Thomas provides acts of service as his love language, if he cares about you enough he will risk his life for you. Why? Because Thomas values putting the people he loves foremost knowing full well they are what help him have purpose and succeed in continuing on. In a way, Newt and Thomas’ dynamic works in this instance because they balance the other out and because they have seen each other at their worst and at their best. In a way, that's why knowing the ending of the books makes it harder to accept that Thomas would just easily take the shot...when all his life clung to Newt’s survival. But that’s a story for another time where I compare the movies (of which let me make that clear, yes I prefer) over the books. For now just know that the book may have done this by accident, maybe not, but at the end of the day theres solid proof that Thomas and Newt care about each other in a way that is separately portrayed from their connection to the other glade members, and have this consistency of soft moments running through the entirety of the series. In conclusion; newtmas. Newtmas. NEWTMAS, etc.

[hekatekun]

The metanarrative’s grand narrative: Osomatsu-san’s characterization throughout the franchise

The growing cynicism throughout the entire Osomatsu-san franchise shows itself in season 3 with more prominence than anything prior. I think that’s pretty common amongst any “long-running” gag comedy - replacing a plot with spiteful commentary that’s admittedly pretty hit or miss at times. However, it invariably creates a negative but pretty funny character growth, and I love the way the show (I’m including the movie too as “canon” material considering season 3 has referenced it way too many times for me to disregard) has set up this metanarrative across seasons. Long post ahead.

Obviously, Osomatsu-san is self-aware and has a casual relationship with itself. No linear plot (though S3 seems to be trying it out and I’ve enjoyed it - I love that they’re willing to experiment), rather a collection of unrelated skits; and so it points out its own metanarrative because of this “lack of consequences.” With comedy comes impermancy and Ososan AND -kun will always bounce back from that week’s insanity. From the Oxford Dictionary, a metanarrative is “a narrative account that experiments with or explores the idea of storytelling, often by drawing attention to its own artificiality.” Basically: a story about stories.

On top of this, is what I’m calling the “grand narrative,” which is often used interchangeably with metanarrative, but here I’m making a distinction to make it less confusing. Of course, Ososan is a story about stories, but with that comes a story it’s not directly telling, which is where most of the (little) character development is taking place. This is what I’m going to call the grand narrative of a show whose premise is being a meta-aware comedy. I’ll admit I’m by no means an expert on these subjects, but storytelling methods are something I enjoy trying to analyze. As a media format, Ososan really utilizes the fact that it’s a tv show.

Right off the bat S1E1 makes it clear what to expect: Nothing. Not a damn thing. But, the show had already been cleared for this first season, so it has to be produced. This same episode’s preview is done by Osomatsu, which I’m just gonna quote instead screenshot because there’s too many.

“...we plan on properly starting the anime the next episode.” “...you ended up with an extra minute, so you need me to do something to fill it?! Actually, is this anime going to be okay with episode one being like this? I’m getting worried about how the rest of this is going to be...” “There, I used up a minute! [EPISODE ENDS]”

Episode one is not only batshit referential, but downright mocking the state of anime in 2015. Which, truthfully, I don’t have much to comment on in that regard, as I’m not an avid anime fan. However, it does this under the premise of being indecisive about what kind of anime they wanted the Osokun reboot to be. 

They’ll do just about anything to stay popular and relevant considering that is, quite literally, all they have going for them as characters in the series and just being characters in general. They may be pieces of shit, but they’re likeable pieces of shit. The dynamics they’ve built upon to be entertaining is encouraged, and they’re basically just roleplaying different skits and fucking around.

All the AUs! All the skits! They’re just playing! They’re just fuckin’ around!! They couldn’t come up with any interesting plot nor could they “graduate” from being anime protagonists and join the real world, so they just fuck around and make a gag anime!

Even if we follow both as the audience, the show makes a difference between the what’s them in their “normal life” (crazy begets crazy, no?) and what’s their “show.” But, really, that’s just one way to look at it, as they don’t really follow any rules as a show. I could say the Joshimatsus are separate characters from the sextuplets, and it’d be a “correct” interpretation. It doesn’t really matter - I’m choosing to examine it all as being the six of them just running around and playing, because being entertaining and having fun is all they know as characters. Besides, having it blended together beyond recognition reinforces how it prioritizes entertaining us, the audience, above logic. Storytelling doesn’t need to make absolute spatial-temporal sense for it to be enjoyable to fans.

In any case, that mentality really seems to be what pushes their character development negative, as they look to reinforce habits and rituals despite them being really detrimental for them in the long run. They know they’re popular characters as is, and with really everyone from staff to fans encouraging this behavior further, so they see no point in fixing what isn’t really broken.

I found this 4 year old article from Manga.Tokyo discussing the Ososan phenomenon in Japan because while the craze died off pretty quickly in American anime circles (which deserves a whole other post), Japanese fans went fuckin’ nuts.

This portion caught my attention, as it makes sense that entitled and enabled asshole children would grow up to be entitled and enabled asshole adults. The article also goes on to compare them to idols (even beyond the F6 spoof) and that they are rooted in being comfort characters above all else. 

It’s worth a read, especially because Japanese fan response is what drives majority of the content post-S1, and, inevitably, ties into their character development. 

They know that they’re Characters, particularly Protagonists. You know what happens to protagonists? Everything works out. Just about every single story created has stuff working out for protagonists. In fact, we have a whole genre made that separates stories with bad tragic endings from our Normal Stories. Ososan is a comedy, not a tragedy, so surely there’s gonna be some payoff somewhere along the road, especially as the seasons and other content are still being pumped out. To a self-aware, entitled, enabled protagonist, assuming everything is just gonna work out for you isn’t that far off from your narrative truth.

However, Ososan is a gag anime, and a lot of gag content (like 4koma mangas) is dropped for other projects before any emotional cathartic ending is provided for characters and fans alike. So, three seasons and a movie later, nothing has happened. It’s a great idol cash cow with a Family Guy filter, and the characters (and writers) don’t even bother to hide it anymore. And I know I’m being hypocritical concerning my definition of “canon material” but I think this portion from one of the drama cds “Choroplex” basically summarizes my point:

CHOROMATSU: Wait, don’t make this into a gag! You don’t even care about becoming employed, right? KARAMATSU: There’s no way that could happen... CHOROMATSU: What kind of future are you imagining? Is it nothing but this? [HUGE PAUSE BEFORE THEY MOVE ONTO SOMETHING ELSE]

They’re parodies of themselves and are running out of ideas. Stagnation and decay is normal, if not unavoidable, at this point in time for them. They’re just 20 somethings who’ve hit a wall but they’re too scared and insecure to bring about permanent positive change. It’s easier for them to fall back into normal patterns and joke off the rest.

They have an antagonistic relationship with expectations. They can’t handle a single iota of expectations, or responsibilities. They’ve never needed to worry before, so why bother now? Once the biggest hits on the block, now they’re just guppies in the ocean, and there’s nothing they believe themselves to be able to accomplish to keep up with this big brave new world. This is epitomized in S3E15, where old man Osomatsu tells a bastardized version of the Tortoise and the Hare, blatantly projecting his feelings onto it. Again, too many screenshots so let me pull more quotes (bolding for my own reference):

“The place that the tortoise thought was the goal was not actually the goal. His journey down the road of life still continued on. The tortoise was quite tired, but he continued running anyway.” “No one actually knew who was in front anymore. There are too many people above you.” “After the tortoise found out how society worked, he thought, ‘So this is the difference in talent? No amount of hard work is going to fix this. All right. I’m done competing with others.’”

S3 has left more questionable endings than its counterparts. The last 2 skits I referenced don’t even a gag to them, and the marriage skit doesn’t play music for the entire second half of S3E5. There’s more involved too. I haven’t even brought up the rice ball twins becoming actual entertainers in their universe, or how they introduced this whole AI subplot only to reject it because All Six Of Them aren’t interested in expanding their little corner of the world. Here’s a transcript of the ending preview from S3E1:

“Hey, hey, Osomatsu here. I thought we were saved from being replaced, but I guess we get new characters next week. Man, we’re busy. New encounters, changing surroundings... We’re NEETs to begin with because all that is a pain. I guess a lot can happen after three seasons. [EPISODE ENDS]”

The sextuplets’ mindsets are extremely self-centered, which is also an environmental thing (the parents don’t even really care that they’re NEETs, for one) and an understanding of what they ought to be (epic successful protagonists). They also have a very black and white mentality, all or nothing. They’re extremely sheltered, and once they realized where they stood in society at large, they just gave up. To them the world is divided between winners and losers, and somehow, “inexplicably,” they found themselves to have fallen from grace. But they’re protagonists, that has to count for something! Everything’s gonna end up okay, right? Well... what this show has told them: No, not at all. They are consistently compared and warned of Iyami, and are perfectly aware of this fact, and have come to internalize it as a truth rather than a reversible self-fulfilling prophecy.

Too many screencaps, taken from the S3S5 marriage discussion:

JYUSHIMATSU: I wonder if we’re gonna get married someday, too. CHOROMATSU: Well, I mean... probably? I’m not exactly sure, but... TODOMATSU: What? You’re gonna get married, Choromatsu-niisan? CHOROMATSU: Huh? Well, yeah... someday.

Surprise! They have commitment issues! The same group that couldn’t commit to a fucking plot! Though their personality issues have several factors involved, I can’t overlook the theater motifs abound. Life’s a stage, and they’re performing entirely unscripted and it shows.

Do I think all of this is 100% intentional on the writers’ part? No, probably not. There’s also an extra layer here regarding contemporary Japanese commentary that I’m not familiar with, so I just ended up focusing on the characters. I can’t be in the writers’ heads, but whatever decisions are being made by executives regarding censorship and “compliance” are reflected in these character changes that result in being significantly more bitter and defeatist.

In the all or nothing, winner-take-all mentality, the only way to save face at this point, in their minds, is to own up to it - act like it’s what they wanted all along. And, hey, it’s funny to watch, right?

“Why is Osomatsu all my examples”, you might be asking. Well, he’s the damn blueprint for it all. The leader of the bunch, the first personality to grab your attention, has had all his issues projected and ricocheted in their echo chamber.

Ultimately, my point here is that you could think their “canon characterizations” (though canon means nothing in a show like this) as being intertwined with the nature of their self-aware existence. They’ve shown you all their tricks, the smoke and mirrors are getting boring, and they’re stalling long enough the story seems to be moving on without them - in spite of them. And when something genuinely threatens their way of life, they don’t know how to respond.

You can play it all straight, of course. Remove the meta jokes and all the same plot points can be hit, but, as a slapstick comedy, it’s able to easily add this additional layer in that I appreciate. I’ve said it in my last post and I’ll probably say it in more, but with comedy comes sincerity - the caveat of all the cartoon violence is that, on some level somewhere, this is how they really feel.

[mistabullets]

Okay! Imagine! Mista with a S/o that IS Bruno's little sister

> As Bruno’s sister, you respect and appreciate your fratellone.

> He made sure to give you plenty attention when the two of you were younger and in a way, he’s very protective of you. When your father became disabled from the gunshot wounds, Bruno basically raised you and made sure you continue your education. Growing up, it eventually clicked that your older brother was working for the mafia. How else can such a young man his age able to afford your schooling, the nice apartment complex, and your father’s hefty medical bills?

> It made you worried. What if Bruno accidentally cross the wrong people? What if he never came home? You offered to find work, drop out of school, or just do something to ease the burden. You even offered to join Passione but your brother particularly seethed at the idea. “Under absolutely no circumstances will you be doing that, rella. Do me a favor - promise me you will not associate with anyone else in Passione. Am I clear?”

> Swallowing nervously, you promised. He even made you pinky promise.

> Life moved on. Your father passed and Bruno became more committed to his work as he rose through the ranks. Eventually, Bruno found you a nice place in town and paid for your tuition for school. Your essentials were covered. He even made you change your last name so you weren’t associate with him in anyway or form. Bruno always made sure to call you once in day and check in - he was such a mother hen. But you wanted to try to live independently! So you picked up a part time job, perhaps at some cafe, bakery, or restaurant. You didn’t tell your brother about it, since he would throw a fit and tell you to focus on your studies.

> That’s how you met him.

> He was a frequent customer and was quite the looker. A toned body, sun kissed skin, warm dark eyes, and curls peaking out of his hat. He always bought a lot of food - like he had a whole family to feed. But you never questioned it because he was so friendly, maybe a bit too eccentric but endearingly so - sometimes you would sneak him an extra of his favorites. You eventually became aware of his phobia of four and made sure not to give him four of anything. Weeks later, you were bold enough to write your number on a napkin when he made a passing comment how it sucked being single.

> He gave a lopsided smile and asked for your name. You kindly gave it to him and he told you his name. “Guido Mista. I’ll call ya later tonight, Y/N! Maybe we can set up a date or somethin’?”

> When you arrived him, you were eager to receive his call and was pleased when your heard your phone ringing. Eventually, you did set up the date. That date became multiple dates. He started coming over to your apartment and staying the night. It was safe to say the two of you were an item now. There were some questions you would like to ask; why did he have a gun? Why did he talk to himself a lot? How come sometimes he would smell like... iron and death? And god, how much could this man eat? But you assured yourself that it was nothing too serious to fret over. You were just over analyzing.

> Bruno figures out pretty quickly you had a boyfriend and wanted to meet him. But you were quite worried about introducing each other. Your brother was essentially your father figure; he will make it obvious if he approves of your boyfriend or not. You kept postponing dates to meet up - it’s not like you didn’t want Mista to meet Bruno but your brother could be nitpicky about if your lover was good enough for you or not. You didn’t want Guido to feel any pressure from your brother. He was already good enough for you and that’s what matters.

> However Mista is more than eager to introduce you to his familigia. “Well, it’s more like, me and five of dudes but they’re particularly like bros to me!”

> After hearing nothing but praise from your boyfriend, you were looking forward to meeting them as well. When approaching the villa, you wondered how six men in their late teens and early twenties can afford to board such an estate. You were greeted by four other men - a pretty blonde with curls and a braid greeted you, a studious young man in green teaching a messy haired with purple eyes, and a brooding man with long silver hair tuning out the world with his headphones.

> “Finally we can have dinner!” Narancia shouts.

> “Narancia, you dumbass, we have a guest here! And we need to finish this problem here!” Fugo exclaims, looking like he wants to stab the boy.

> “Will the two of you shut up? I can hear you through my headphones and our capo is still doing paperwork upstairs!” Abbacchio takes a glance up at you, “You look quite familiar...” he murmurs.

> Giorno leads you to the kitchen and it smells like your mother’s home meals. You settle in a seat right next to Mista and you can hear your stomach growl. “Our capo was expecting ya and took the time out of his day to make this dish! He’s honestly a really good cook when he wants to be. He’s honestly like, the big brother of this group, aside from Abba over there—“

> “Don’t call me that,” Abbacchio sighs, popping open a bottle of red wine. You giggle - despite the chaos and the energy strumming through the air, you can appreciate how homely it is. You’re growing comfortable already, Mista already has a hold of your hand under the table, happy that everyone so far has been welcoming in their own unique way. You’re growing used the all the noises and clattering of plates, you don’t hear the footsteps approaching. You raise your head up to greet the new presence, only to find a familiar face that looks much like your own. The rest of the gang noticed and perks up, wondering why the two of you look so taken aback.

> “B-Bruno?” you ask in disbelief

> “Huh? Ya know Bucciarati or somethin’, bambina?” your boyfriend ask, swallowing nervously.

> “We do. She’s my sister, after all,” Bruno responds, collecting his composure despite Narancia in the background saying “holy shit that’s your sister?” Even Abbacchio lets out a surprised gasp. Mista is glancing at the two of you, back and forth, the similarities of facial structures and eyes now dawning on the gunslinger. What a small world. And you, on the other hand, are now coming to realization that this must be Bruno’s team. So that means... you’ve been dating a mafioso for the past months now - the gun and the smell of iron (no, blood) made a sense now. And you inadvertently broke Bruno’s promise: to not associate with a gangster.

Perhaps after dinner, we can talk about this.” Oh no. Was he angry? Upset? There was something laced with his words. Dinner passed by with awkward silence, despite how delicious the food was. No wonder it smelled so much like home... You held onto to Mista’s hand, as if to reassure him. And while he couldn’t grasp the entirety of the situation, he tried to sympathize with his capo. He understood why you may have been kept a secret - Passione’s underbelly screamed dangerous and someone would definitely try to use you as bait for Bucciarati. After all, Polpo’s suicide was still being investigated and there have been rumors flying around about how suspicious it was that one of Bruno’s subordinates last saw him alive. This double your risk. Not only was your brother a capo for Passione but your boyfriend was gunslinger for mafia as well.

> After dinner, Bruno wants to talk to Mista alone. You dread whatever his verdict will be and wait outside silently, hoping your brother doesn’t force Mista to cut things off with you. To be frank, you didn’t mind Guido being part of the mafia - sure, it was scary to ponder if your loved one was okay and wonder if they’ll come home alive. But Bruno had survived for this long. Guido definitely had the will to do the same. And you doubt this man would wanna put you in active harm’s way! He cried one time for accidentally hitting your face during a tickle fight once so you knew his motives weren’t ulterior.

> Bruno questioned Mista like it was an interrogation. While he knew his underling was a good man at heart, Bruno couldn’t help but worry for his baby sister - that was his only family left. He was surprised to learn the two of you met at your part time job. Bruno specifically told you not to worry about finances! “Listen Bucciarati, ya sis loves ya. She talks ‘bout what a great guy ya are ‘nd how much you’ve done for her. But... you also been makin’ her feel sheltered. She was so nervous ‘bout us meeting. I... I know ya wanna protect her and so do I! But ya can’t be babyin’ her forever. Ya gotta let her make her own choices. So I ain’t gonna break up with her. That’s up to her, for her to decide, ya know?”

> After reflecting on the younger man’s words, he reluctantly agrees with him. Sure, you are his baby sister but you’re an adult and can make your own decision. You can distinguish what is and isn’t safe. Obviously, you’re not that naive. And perhaps with the gang knowing about your existence, that would grant you extra protection if anything were to happen. He sighs, “Fair enough. But if you break my sister’s heart, I will lock you up in Sticky Finger’s dimension. And make sure you protect her. Understood, Mista?”

> Mista particularly beams. “Understood, capo! Thank ya for blessin’, I promise I’ll take care of her.”

> In the end, you continue to date Mista. It definitely takes awhile to adjust - while your brother is understanding your relationship and respects it, he’ll glare daggers at Mista if he’s being a little too touchy during dinners and outings. You thank Bruno for allowing this relationship and apologize for accidentally breaking that one promise.

> He smiles at you softly, finding it endearing how you kept that to heart. “Well, promise me not to do anything stupid and keep up with your studies, alright?” he offers his pinky to you.

> “Alright, I promise!”

> “Oh, I don’t even think about marriage and kids until you’re done with your studies—“

> “Bruno, hush!”

[thestreamdreampony]

Ok, so while I'm in a talkative mood, there's smth else I wanna talk about:

Ya'll make me feel so goddamn old. I was able to pull out the "listen to your elders" card in my previous post and I turned 22 a few days ago. Do you people even realize how young that is? I still barely feel like an adult most days and I've lived away from home for the last 4 years.

Most mcyts are my age or younger. I know we joke about Phil being old enough to go into retirement, but my man is 33. That's not old. That's not even middle age.

Ya'll hold these teens and barely-adults to such a ridiculous standards of conduct, when they are still children or barely of age. And while this definitely applies to ccs like Tommy, Ranboo and Tubbo, I especially want to talk about Techno and Dream. Because neither of them is that much older than the teens. Being of age doesn't come with a neatly packaged box of maturity that's served with the birthday cake.

Both of them are younger than me. Hell, Techno turns 22 today. I'm not even going to talk about their neurodivergence (because I am not qualified to do so). They are young as hell. And while yes, Techno has been doing Youtube for many years now, both of them have been thrust into the limelight in an insane way, in one hell of a short time. Hell, Dream went from no subscribers to 22 million in less than 1.5 years.

Every single move they make is scrutinized by literally millions of people, both with friendly and malicious intentions. Both people who mean well and people who don't rifle through every single thing they say and ever said in their entire online history and use that spin a narrative about them. And that narrative can be good, even worshipful and it can be bad, with the goal to hurt both the ccs and their fans.

Obviously, them being famous and influential is largely beneficial to them, especially financially, but I think a bit of perspective is sometimes necessary. These barely adults are scrutinized and scrutinized and scrutinized. Every action, ever toneshift, every relationship, every word is analyzed and picked over.

And for that I do admire them because I know that neither I, nor most of my peers (who are in my age range, if not older) would be able to handle that kind of pressure. To be bombarded with thousands of people screaming at me day in day out has got to be fucking exhausting.

And the way they handle themselves, especially Dream, speaks to me of an immense capability for growth and for listening. The Dream that admitted to cheating yesterday is not the same person that defended himself hot-headedly a year ago.

And even that is somewhat understandable. Like, don't get me wrong, Dream not admitting to his wrong doing and getting really defensive about it was in no way a great way of handling the situation, but imagine how you'd feel if you suddenly you get bombarded by thousands of people calling you the scum of the earth, after being completely unknown to the public not even a year before that. (Like I said, I'm not going to get into him being nd, but that, as far as I'm aware, also heavily impacts the way he processes and handles things. Same for Techno)

You don't have to like anyone's actions. You don't have to forgive them if they fuck up and you don't have to like anyone at all. But please, for the love of god, keep in mind that these people, while highly capable and fairly mature, are nowhere near as old as most of the fandom likes to act they are and that they are most definitely capable of learning and changing.

[shihalyfie]

“Dependable senior” Kido Jou

Continuing my thread of analyzing the Adventure characters in detail, today we’ll be talking about Jou, Adventure’s most famous disaster character whom most of us have probably started feeling may actually be the most relatable character in this cast. It’s hard not to love him, honestly, given how earnestly he works so hard at everything and yet has an unfortunate tendency to dig himself into a hole.

Let’s just cut to the chase and talk about Jou!

Jou’s family background

Adventure is of course known for its overall focus on family backgrounds, but Jou’s is fairly different from the others’ for a lot of different reasons. We never meet Jou’s parents in the series itself, only in a drama CD, but we do meet his brother, Kido Shin -- and in fact, Jou’s the only Adventure kid to have siblings outside of the group (two, in fact, although we don’t meet Shuu until 02).

Jou’s family is what’s often called an “elite” family -- one that pushes for its kids and family members to have a certain degree of “high status” through their career. Even those in non-Asian countries will probably recognize that academic achievement measurement pressure is endemic to the culture in general -- especially since Japan has standard entrance exams go all the way down to high school level -- but it is especially prominent in the case of the Kido family, and Jou’s father has been pushing all three of his sons to become doctors, largely because he wants one of them to inherit his clinic. (While it’s not as extreme as Sora’s problem with iemoto position inheritance, Jou’s position of being in inheritance pressure is not entirely dissimilar.) It also means that just being any kind of doctor isn’t enough for him -- it’s got to be one of the “dignified and prominent” kinds of doctors (heavily implied to involve surgery, given the mention of blood).

In addition, while it’s not strictly said within the series itself, it’s implied that Jou is feeling a lot of pressure in terms of being the youngest of three sons, when the older two have a huge age gap with him. Jou is only in elementary school, while his second oldest brother is in high school and his oldest brother already a medical student! (By the time Adventure is over, both brothers are in national university, which is a really tough achievement.) Within his family, Jou really is The Baby compared to two high-achieving brothers who are already “well on their way to great things”.

In order to be on the path of becoming a doctor, Jou starts off the series, only in elementary school, in the “prep school track” -- or, what’s basically a constant cycle of getting into a good school so that he can get into another good school so that he can get into another good school (et cetera). Again, Japanese schools have entrance exams as early as high school, so this is something he’ll be setting on very early. I also cannot emphasize enough that for anyone who has to go through this process, it is absolute hell. I have never met anyone who actually enjoys doing this; it’s a means to an end. It’s very hard to have your heart into this unless you want the final goal that badly -- vague promises of status alone don’t do it -- and even those who do want it often end up demotivated and going through the motions with their will broken partway into it.

And, unfortunately for Jou, he’d already had a good reason to not want to do this from day one.

Jou has severe blood phobia. (Formally called “hemophobia”, although I tend to avoid that term given that it’s one letter off from something else.) Shin even makes it clear in this scene from Adventure episode 38 that any doubts about Jou’s ability to become a doctor don’t have anything to do with his personality or abilities, but the fact is that this is, indeed, a very serious and concrete problem for someone who intends to become a doctor (or at least, again, the kind of doctor that his father wants him to be). It’s possible that Jou outright fainting at the sight of blood might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it’s definitely enough of a deterrent that he’s not feeling this whole thing at all, and convincing him to actually care about becoming a doctor is going to require a huge uphill battle. By default, the answer was already a huge, capital NO in giant letters before anything ever began. And yet, Jou continued to force himself to go through the motions.

It should also be made clear that while Jou’s father was pressuring him to become a doctor, he was also not trying to force Jou to become one. The drama CD where he appears had him actually outwardly encourage Jou to do whatever he wanted instead of forcing himself -- but it was also extremely clear that he was still personally very unhappy and dissatisfied with the idea of all three brothers not taking over his clinic. As much as the Kido brothers do seem to be concerned about their father’s disapproval, it’s less so out of fear of retribution and more that they just really worry about disappointing him. Hence, this is why Jou continues to follow the path even when he’s not really feeling it, and it’s important to understanding Jou as a character for the rest of this post: Jou has no personal interest in status or honor, but is motivated by his sense of duty towards other people. 

Even so, “because my father really wants me to” isn’t exactly very motivating in itself, and, all in all, Jou starts off Adventure very jaded about his future prospects, and rather demotivated and uninterested in them. But come the events of Adventure, Jou, the aforementioned “baby of the family”, gets recasted as the oldest in the group -- which becomes a huge factor in how he ends up changing his view of himself and his personal goals.

Jou in Adventure

Jou starts off the series assigned as Mimi’s camp group leader, but even Mimi senses an aura from him that he doesn’t seem very “reliable”. In this case, the word “reliable” doesn’t refer to his Crest name (which did get a dub name of “Reliability”) but rather various words that effectively mean “able to be counted on”. Which, at this early point of the story, Jou is decidedly not. Once the adventure gets off the ground, Jou easily succumbs to stress, and especially the stress and burden placed on him from being the oldest in the group.

If you’re wondering if that one-year difference between Jou and Taichi/Yamato/Sora really is that big of a deal, culturally speaking: yes, it is (especially when everyone’s at this young age), and Jou isn’t just being stickler about it. You can actually see an example of how this comes into play once they return to regular society in Adventure episode 29, when the kids are allowed to go to Hikarigaoka purely because “a sixth-grader” (Jou) is with them. This is the kind of responsibility that society normally imposes on him, and this is what he carries even into another world.

In fact, Jou’s aware even from the get-go that he’s not exactly cut out for that kind of role. From the Adventure novels:

Jou thought about it. He, too, felt sorry for the younger boy… but it would be over for his leadership if he went back on what he’d already decided. Give them an opening and they’ll soon be walking all over him. He just couldn’t have that. Jou was all too aware of his own often indecisive personality. ... When they heard what had transpired between her and Jou, Yamato and the others glared coldly in Jou’s direction. What was this, a dictatorship?

As a result, he initially rubs everyone the wrong way because, in their view, he’s trying to impose his will on everyone like some control freak, but as it turns out, being a control freak is actually part of Jou’s stress response.

Said control freakishness manifests in Jou constantly spending the early part of the series by leaning back on “the rules of society” -- including the early series running gag of him insisting that there must be “adults” there, when this is clearly not the case to everyone else present -- because, for someone like him who easily gives into stress and anxiety and has a nasty tendency to become incredibly irrational, leaning on those “rules” is some degree of comfort to him. Now that he’s been dragged into another world, he’s desperately clawing at anything that can bring his sense of “reality” back -- hence why he keeps relying on the concept of “adults”, because the truth is that he himself isn’t actually that capable of handling the situation on his own, and he’s trying to convince himself that there’s Some More Reliable Thing Out There that they can fall back on.

The infamous “egg scene” in Adventure episode 7 is certainly comedic when Jou overreacts to everyone harmlessly listing off things they like on their eggs, but things quickly take a turn for the dramatic when Jou practically has a mental breakdown over it. In the end, Jou so easily succumbs to anxiety that even little things like “being a little out of order” stress him out to no end. The world is easy to understand and explain when everything is in the right place, and chaos has a tendency to completely disorient him.

But on the other hand, it’s also in Adventure episode 7 where we learn that Jou’s control freak behavior isn’t because he actually cares about any kind of status or honor for being the oldest, but because he truly, truly feels responsible for everyone’s welfare.

“Because I’m the oldest” is a statement that Jou means in the context of him having a duty to protect everyone -- beyond everything, the one thing that does make Jou passionate is how much he truly, truly cares about other people’s welfare, to the point he impulsively throws himself onto the Black Gear-controlled Unimon and tries to yank the gear out with his bare hands. In fact, said episode demonstrates that Jou can be recklessly self-sacrificial when he wants to be, because his failed attempts at dispute resolution lead him to conclude that he should be the one to take one for the team. For all it’s worth, Jou has the right idea when it comes to trying to take leadership, because he’s very much doing this for the welfare of others more than he ever cares about himself or the glory of the position -- it’s just that, being rather reckless, rather paranoid, and not very good at actually thinking straight, his way of going about it doesn’t tend to always land right.

But it’s undeniable that he cares, and he’s trying, and this leads to a shift in how the rest of the team comes to perceive him for the rest of the series now that they understand that his intentions really are for their sake, not because he’s trying to be a jerk about it.

And that comes out to be the one most prominent trait about Jou for the rest of the series, especially in Adventure episodes 23 and 36 -- as much as an unpredictable loose cannon as he can be, he’s so loyal to his friends and determined to protect them that he would even recklessly throw himself into the line of fire for them. That’s the basis of his Crest, which is something that’s been translated half a dozen different ways, but all boil down to the same principle: he has a strong sense of duty and responsibility to other people, and will always make do on his promises to others or his desire to provide for them.

After a few of their initial bad starts, the Adventure kids never treat him badly -- in fact, both Sora and Mimi respectfully call him “Jou-senpai” as if to acknowledge his position over them in school, something that’s stuck very well with the actual fanbase (more on this later). Of course, everyone tends to get exasperated at him or worry about whether he’ll actually pull through on anything he attempts, but the majority of the humor revolving around Jou in Adventure has very little to do with anyone insulting or tormenting him, and more that he tends to be so dramatic and high-strung that he kind of digs himself into a hole. (Like how he tries to angrily chastise everyone for spending their money on food in Adventure episode 30, only for the revelation that he’s starving himself to kick in and for him to sink into the exact opposite extreme.) Ultimately, everyone comes to understand that Jou’s working really hard for their sake, so they cut him a bit of slack.

In fact, while Taichi initially complains about Jou sitting out of their trip to Shibaura to find the eighth child for the sake of entrance exam studies in Adventure episode 32, the kids strike a compromise by dumping all of their phone call work on him. Of course, this is a bit of “revenge” for him not accompanying them, but it is effectively the other kids respecting his right to sit out and not have to completely give up on his real life obligations even in the middle of the eighth child search, by allowing him to participate in the search in a way that’s more convenient for him.

But despite diligently sticking to the motions, Jou doesn’t actually emotionally care about all of this. We even get a hint of this in Adventure episode 35 -- Jou gets what he calls “the worst grade in his life,” presumably due to all of the stress he’d been going through lately, having just gotten back from the Digital World and all. He also bounces back incredibly quickly, saying that he’ll have to call and inform his parents he’ll be back late.

In the end, Jou doesn’t really care about his grades or performance when it comes to cram school, even despite insisting on sticking to it, because he’s just not feeling it. He doesn’t even want to be a doctor all that much; he has no true motivation and no reason to care. (The only time Jou is ever portrayed as actually liking doing any kind of studying at all rather than doing it as obligation is when everyone’s listing off what they miss doing in Adventure episode 6, but it’s in a context where everyone’s talking about missing home, so it’s more of him missing his daily routine and what’s “familiar” to him than anything else.) He went through the motions, and was slightly disappointed about the grade, but the “ultimate goal” of becoming a doctor had no personal meaning to him, and so he shrugs it all off.

Jumping in physical danger to save someone’s life? That’s a no-brainer -- Jou would easily throw himself into the line of fire to do so, because he’s so passionate about protecting other people and taking responsibility for them that he’ll gladly sacrifice himself for anyone else in a heartbeat. But this whole thing about becoming a doctor and his future career is such a vague thing that he doesn’t even want that it’s arguably more of his “required daily routine” than it’s actually something he cares about all that much.

And so, we finally meet Kido Shin, in Adventure episode 38 -- he’s the oldest of the Kido brothers, already a medical student, and, ostensibly, the one closest to their father’s goal of having doctor sons. Yet his first appearance indicates that even he doesn’t have it all together, either -- he sleeps in the closet (Jou didn’t even know about this!), and somehow just slept through all of his surroundings being kidnapped. So even one of Jou’s apparent models is a bit of a disaster himself -- and, more importantly, Shin leaves some advice with Jou that sticks with him for the rest of the series.

Shin does not intend to be a doctor in the way their father wants him to be (remember, he specifically wants them to take over his clinic). This is Jou’s first time hearing about this, which is important because it means it’s the first time Jou is having such a major shakeup to his likely perception of Shin as a “prior example” -- and Shin knows this, because he promptly uses himself as an example of why Jou should also be free to choose his own path. Jou being the Kido family’s “baby” especially comes out in the novel, because Shin implies that he thinks Shuu would feel independent enough to not need any advice about this, whereas Jou definitely needs it.

We don’t get follow-up on this until after they return to the Digital World, and Mimi witnessing a handful of deaths and eventually Taichi and Yamato falling out brings her to her emotional limit; Jou decides to take responsibility for her, and while part of it is presumably because he’s had charge of her as her camp group leader since the beginning, it’s also clear that the recent events in the Digital World are weighing on him in their own way, as are Shin’s words about finding his own path.

What he wanted to tell her was this: that he didn’t see any likelihood of co-existing with the Dark Masters, and that they had no other choice but to fight them. Even a neutral country like Switzerland had a military. They would be invaded by enemy countries without one. It would be nice and ideal if they used the nonviolent resistance approach as Ghandi did. But that didn’t mean it was okay to just be killed without lifting a finger… But not even he could find a good answer.

QUESTION: Under what circumstances is it okay to battle?

That sort of question would never appear on a school test, and he’d never once thought about it before…

But on their way, Jou and Mimi encounter Ogremon and Leomon, and for the first time, Jou’s peripheral knowledge of medicine from his father starts having a practical use -- up until then, “becoming a doctor” had only been something that he’d been following for a vague sense of status that he didn’t even want, but here, Jou starts to see the connection between that goal and what it would mean for what he wants: to be able to help people right in front of him. Shortly after, when Leomon’s death turns out to involve injuries beyond that a sixth-grader can take care of with his limited supplies (”toilet paper won’t fix this!”), Jou is suddenly hit with a certain sense of reality: if Jou wants to truly help others, there is much more of a skillset he’s going to need to gather in order to do so.

So by the time of Adventure episode 50, Shin’s words now weigh so much on Jou that he’s even dreaming about them, and he finally internalizes those words of “everyone taking their own path”. In short, this is Jou acknowledging that fighting isn’t the only way to meaningfully contribute -- after all, Mimi has a severe aversion to fighting or seeing more casualties and thus can better meaningfully contribute by gathering allies to work together, while Taichi and Koushirou are directly in the front lines.

Jou, ostensibly, decides to go off and find Yamato, but there’s another layer under this: Jou admits that he’s not very strong, so much to the point that he doesn’t think Gomamon will reach Ultimate, and feels like there should be “something only he can do”. The full answer to what Jou started touching on here, and what he ends up doing thereafter, is stated in explicit words in Two-and-a-Half Year Break:

When we were in the Digital World last summer, many of the Digimon got injured and died. I couldn’t do anything for them, even though I was a doctor’s son. I don’t want to ever feel useless again! Not when someone is hurt in front of me. The Digital World doesn’t have a doctor. They need someone who’ll be able to heal them. Even now, I carry around a simple first-aid kit just in case the Gate opens again. Because of it, my bag is always crammed. And my arms are becoming muscular. [laughs] Really! By the way, I have a problem. Of course, I’ll be doing regular doctor studies, but I’ll be treating Digimon, you know? Don’t you think I’ll need to study veterinary medicine too in order to heal them? 

And thus, Jou finds the all-important link that actually motivates him to want to become a doctor -- the one thing that had always been a constant about Kido Jou was that he could not leave people behind when they needed help right in front of him. Or in other words, he has a marvelous case of Good Samaritan syndrome (a whole eleven years before Kudou Taiki, at that!). “Feeling useless” is pretty much on the very, very top of the list of things he hates the most. And, by his own admission, “fighting” is not really his specialty, and he doesn’t even particularly like it himself.

But he wants to meaningfully contribute in some way, and now, here’s an option that isn’t fighting: he has the roots in a talent for treating the wounded and preventing casualties that way. All he has to do is hone it. And just like how Shin decided that he specifically wanted to be a doctor in a place where a doctor would be needed most, Jou also decides he specifically wants to be a doctor for the Digital World, because that is something he can meaningfully provide for instead of becoming a doctor for the status.

He’s still going to disappoint his father this way, but never mind that: he’s found something that he wants, and it’s his own path, like Shin told him to follow. And yes, that means even if he has to fight his own blood phobia to do so.

And this becomes very important to how he’s able to confidently help bring Sora out of her darkness-induced spiel in Adventure episode 51, where she -- who has a problem with a compulsive tendency to burn herself out in helping others -- starts falling into despair because she caves to the pressure of having to save everyone. Yamato and Jou, together, simply re-shift her frame of mindset: it’s not that being a Chosen Child is about trying and failing to fulfill a particular duty, it’s that there’s a situation happening and they are actively making the choice to do everything they can. Because, really, Jou himself understands it best -- he’s never been someone good at doing things because other people tell him to, he’s someone who’s gotten this far because of his own personal sense of responsibility and priorities being so strong, and that’s why he’s capable of pushing on with his own path and what he wants.

02 and beyond

Jou was, unfortunately, forced to sit out the events of Our War Game!, but as far as blaming him for it goes, it’s really hard to; he had no idea this was going on at all, and by the time the incident had hit climax, he was already in the test room and impossible to be contacted. (You can imagine he was probably quite upset about not having been able to help out afterwards.) As for why nobody tries to pull him out the way they do end up pulling him aside a few times in 02, it’s because this isn’t just a practice exam for prep school -- this is THE exam. Remember, this kind of lifestyle involves a chain of needing to get into a good school to get into a good school to get into a good school, and Jou is aiming for a national university like his brothers; this actually could impact the rest of his career, and given that the other kids respect how important this is to him, it’s also understandable that they’d be a bit hesitant to pull him aside from this.

We’re first properly reintroduced to Jou in 02 episode 5. Unlike Taichi, Yamato, Sora, and Koushirou, Jou does not attend Odaiba Middle School, which means that, assuming that the Adventure universe Odaiba is like the real-life one in which Odaiba (Koyo) Elementary and Middle are the only schools on the island, Jou regularly spends his school and prep school days off the island and quite separated from the others. Instead, Jou attends a private middle school (hence why he had to take an exam to get in), presumably one that’s intended to help him on the medical school track.

But despite that, his first major scene in the series is to ditch prep school to go help Gomamon. For someone who doesn’t know Jou very well, this probably would seem appalling -- that someone so studious would be so willing to ditch at the drop of a hat -- but anyone who does know him well would probably not be surprised; after all, “being a doctor” is still a far-off dream, whereas Gomamon needs help now, and the number one thing Jou can’t stand is to leave people in need behind.

Unlike with Taichi, Yamato, Sora, and Koushirou, who all have some degree of connection to the 02 juniors in some way (Taichi and Yamato being Hikari and Takeru’s brothers, Taichi and Sora having known Daisuke from the soccer club, and Koushirou having known Miyako from the soccer club), Jou is a complete stranger when he’s introduced to Daisuke, Miyako, and Iori, with Digimon-related work being the only connection they have to him at all. Despite that, the new 02 kids, being well-behaved juniors who really look up to their elders, immediately endear themselves well to him -- in fact (you can thank @takerusfedora​ for this observation), Miyako squishing Poromon in delight upon seeing him, and the context she usually does this in, hints that she might even see him as attractive. (Considering that he’s a prospective medical student from an elite family, this probably shouldn’t be too surprising.)

While the fact he’s medical school bound isn’t explicitly brought up in the series itself, the fact he’s well on that path is already pretty evident by his actions, given that he comes stocked with heating pads and other medical supplies, just in case. Takeru comments on him always being prepared -- because he’s constantly thinking of other people and how he can be useful to them.

This episode also marks the beginning of a particular relationship between Jou and Iori, which is quite an interesting one considering that we’re talking about the oldest and the youngest of the group of eleven (not quite twelve yet) Tokyo Chosen Children at this point. As many point out even within this episode, Jou and Iori have a lot in common, and it’s likely Jou sees a bit of himself in Iori -- someone who has a firm insistence on principles (even beyond the point of practicality), but also is protective of others and hates to see them hurt. Not only that, Iori had even gotten a similar lesson from his grandfather earlier in the episode about the importance of “making one’s own decisions” -- and so, the two share common ground in Iori having ditched his “duty” to practice kendo with his grandfather that day in order to help Gomamon, and Jou having done likewise via ditching his prep school classes. Because Iori will always have more kendo lessons, and this certainly won’t be the last prep school class Jou has, but these are effectively two kindred spirits who care so much about friends in need that prioritizing them over all else is non-negotiable.

Jou compliments Iori by calling him “dependable”, which is a huge compliment coming from someone who, at this point of the story, regularly attracts comments like “dependable senior”. 02-era Jou gets this kind of reference a lot in press materials and fan descriptions of him, because now that he’s matured a bit and isn’t as prone to making ridiculous, reckless decisions or being as emotionally high-strung, his on-point aspects like being very on-task and always keeping his word are much more visible.

Well, that said, he still kind of starts screaming loudly as soon as he hears his dad is supposedly in trouble in the middle of his exam in 02 episode 16, so he’s still a little emotionally high-strung. But never mind that!

As usual (especially since this is most likely a practice exam, one of many Jou will be taking for the next year), Jou doesn’t mind being interrupted all that much; it’s not like exams are any fun anyway, so of course Jou doesn’t really care about being pulled from it, especially when Daisuke and the others are literally suffocating to death at that exact moment.

Unfortunately, for Iori, this entire incident is a convergence of things totally eating away at his psyche; he’s still blaming himself for everyone being trapped down there, he’s just placed a burden on Jou, and his grandfather had just said that lying is the worst thing that one could ever do, so now Iori thinks of himself a horrible, undeserving person. But Jou is someone who empathizes with being so stuck on “principles” that you forget the big picture, and reframes it in a way Iori can understand: lies are bad when they hurt people, but in this case, not lying would have led to much, much worse happening, and both Iori and Jou share that common ground of absolutely hating the feeling of standing by and doing nothing while others are in trouble.

We also finally meet the third (or, technically, second) Kido brother in 02 episode 33, Kido Shuu -- and while we don’t see him interact directly with Jou (at least, not until the drama CD), what we learn about him contextualizes Jou’s situation even further: Shuu not only decided to leave the path of inheriting his father’s clinic, he’d also decided to ditch the medical school path entirely, switching to humanities because he was so fascinated by Professor Takenouchi’s work. That’s a pretty drastic shift, but, as Shin had said in the novel, Shuu is the type to be independent enough to do whatever he wants without Shin even having to advise him of this, and given that he made this decision less than a year after the events of Adventure, it was likely a huge motivator in Jou deciding that their prior “example” of being medical students wasn’t necessarily something he needed to follow when both of his own brothers weren’t even following that standard anymore to begin with.

And, much like with Jou, Shuu’s new chosen profession also brings him closer to the Digimon, except in an “understanding more about them” sense rather than Jou’s medical sense. So, just like Shin wanted, all three brothers found their own paths.

In Diablomon Strikes Back, Jou is thankfully blessed with being much more available to deal with the conflict; he starts off stuck in a long line to register for high school in the midst of scrambled records, but comes to assist Daisuke and Ken with a bike as soon as he’s able. This movie being quite the comedic one, you get to see a bit of his disaster tendencies slip back in as he scrambles to help everyone -- but, as always, he’s doing his best.

A lot of people have also pointed out that the movie spends an awful amount of scenes depicting him in the company of the girl he borrowed the bike from, which has led to a few amusing extrapolations, but at the base level implies that he at the very least wanted to make absolute sure that her bike was safely returned to her once everything is over -- after all, Jou would hate to be responsible for someone losing a bike, or in debt to someone. He’s someone who fulfills his obligations, after all.

By the time Jou actually is in medical school in Kizuna, he truly has become among the crowd too busy to participate regularly in Digimon incident tackling (similar to Sora and Mimi), but To Sora indicates that he’s still keeping tabs on everyone through their group chat and emotionally supporting them, and it’s made clear in both the short and the overall movie that the rest of the group is sympathetic to and understanding of how difficult life is to juggle with all of this. Not only that, much like how Jou stated back in Adventure that he was looking for a way to meaningfully contribute and help out besides just fighting, Jou plays an important role in using his position to tend to all of the Eosmon kidnapping victims.

At least, until he ends up becoming a victim himself and is actually dragged into the fight -- and, now that he’s actually on the spot and the conflict is right in front of him, he approaches it with enthusiastic gusto, indicating that he’s still able to be as emotionally high-strung as ever.

We get more info on Jou in his Memorial Story short, “Kido Jou: Medical Student” (which takes place at some unspecified point before the movie), where we learn that Gomamon is still worried about how much that blood phobia thing might impact Jou’s career, and “tests” him by having himself and Agumon pose as mock victims. Jou, very tired and not in a mood to play, snaps at him (rather understandably, given that Gomamon is kind of being a bit insensitive here), but when Gomamon is injured, Jou immediately puts everything aside to help him, even through -- yep -- blood.

Again, it’s not entirely clear how severe Jou’s blood phobia was back when he was a kid, but it’s at least put on the table that Jou’s figured out a way to push past that in order to fulfill his dream, and especially when it involves a loved one being hurt in front of him. Jou tires himself out pretty badly with the work, but hey -- he used to jump recklessly into physical line of fire for his friends, so of course that kind of thing is nothing to him. (But he still apparently is a bit lacking in the confidence department.)

Because Jou was lucky enough to be able to concretely decide on what he wanted to do as early as elementary school, Jou’s epilogue career is naturally the single most straightforward, and really just amounts to “you know that thing he wanted to do? He did it.” And indeed, he becomes the Digital World’s first doctor -- presumably not inheriting his father’s clinic, nor following a high-status expected path, but choosing to become a pioneer in a place he has a deep emotional stake in, in a place where he’s needed because there are no alternatives. And, of course, he’s depicted treating Ogremon, who was effectively Jou’s first “patient” all the way in Adventure, the first step in him realizing that this was his path, and his alone.

Meta

Jou occupies an interesting position in the Digimon fanbase in terms of memes, considering that there’s a fanbase meme of over a decade where anything relevant to him gets people spamming “JOOOOOOOOOOOOO” (with varying levels of Os). Being a comedic but lovable character who tries his hardest but repeatedly runs himself into a corner, he also happens to resonate much harder with the adults in the audience rewatching the series, because all of us as disaster adults can just so easily look at him and go “oh, that’s me.” He also seems to be inexorably tied to the word “senpai”, given that so many characters call him that (including the 02 kids, who never went to school with him); after a certain point it’s hard to dispute that he (especially in 02) exudes this kind of “dependable senior” aura, and, like with “Ken-chan”, the Japanese fanbase has a tendency to constantly use “Jou-senpai” all of the time to refer to him affectionately.

His Japanese voice actor, Kikuchi Masami, also holds the distinction of having been in nearly every Digimon TV series to date (the only exception, as of this writing, being Appmon), with him having been Jou (and Jou’s entire family of two brothers, his mother, and his father) in Adventure and 02, Dolphin and Grani in Tamers, Neemon in Frontier and Adventure:, Kurata in Savers, and Damemon in Xros Wars. (Him being the absolutely despicable Kurata in contrast to the endearing and lovable Jou has been cited as quite a shock to many.) There’s been many a joke about Kikuchi’s constant presence, but Jou is undeniably his most iconic role for the franchise, and you can also imagine it’s conversely gotten a lot of people to fondly think of him every time Kikuchi reappears.

[pparkerpoetry]

Face Reality (Part 14)

Title: Forgiveness is Not so Easy (the void will protect those shunned)

Summary: Phil and Techno are at the house. Ranboo isn't sure he likes it, but he's got his family to support him.

(Death is mad at Phil. He doesn't know it. Once she's done with something, she'll chew him out.)

Part One

Part 15

Masterlist

_________

Ranboo wished he was stronger. He wished he could put the past behind him and move on, but something held him back. Something looked him in the eyes and told him that he could not grow without closure, but even closure was too much to bear.

When he had looked over to the door and saw not only Technoblade but also Philza, leaning and eyes glassy, his first feeling was terror. It was an act- they had come here to kill him-

But his second thought was maybe they were here to kill Tommy. Or Sam. Or any of the family that had actually cared about him when he was at his lowest. Maybe Tubbo, Fundy, Purpled, maybe they wanted a way to Puffy. Because they hadn’t ever cared about him, so why would they now? Why would they have hunted him down? No, the world and the ones he used to live with both united in that they had left him behind, so it wasn’t Ranboo who was in trouble, it was his family.

When Sam had ushered Technoblade and Philza into the medical room, Ranboo let out a deep breath. “C’mon guys. Let’s go to our room.”

Tommy had taken one look at his wide eyes and agreed, as if he hadn’t just seen his father bleeding out over the man who’d once told him to die like a hero. “Yeah, let’s give them some space.”

They all ended up asleep, though he was sure that someone had gotten up, but Ranboo’s dreams were not kind. Had they ever been? Had he ever known compassion from something as simple as his own mind?

His dreams were plagued with heartache and pain, as his life had been, and though he was no stranger to it, he did not want it. He never wanted it, but no one ever cared about his opinions before he found this family.

Ranboo woke up gasping. He had already forgotten what the nightmares were about, but the adrenaline still pumped through his veins as he tried to calm down.

“You got ‘em, too?” Tommy whispered, from somewhere among the mass of blankets.

Ranboo swallowed. “Yeah.” His voice sounded hoarse. At least he hadn’t been crying. Had he? “Just memories. I think.”

Tommy shifted in the covers. “I know that you don’t like them. I have issues too, but… is it so much to hope that they feel sorry? I just want.. I know it’s selfish but I want them back. I have this family, but losing them… losing them still hurts.”

“I can understand that.” Ranboo said. “I think it all depends on what they do now, since we’re close together and can’t really avoid each other. It depends on how they act.”

Tommy hummed. “I hope they feel sorry.”

“If they don’t feel sorry now, after all they’ve done,” Ranboo whispered, “then they never will.”

“Yeah.” Tommy said, but he didn’t elaborate. They stayed in silence until weak beams of light began to shine through their window, and then even longer, until there was a soft knocking on the door.

It opened, and Sam stood there. “Ranboo? Tommy? Are you awake?”

“We sure are, big man.” Tommy said, and though his eyes were tired, his wings twitched. “What do you need?”

Sam hesitated. “Uh, Phil’s awake. He and Techno want to talk with you guys. You don’t have to, of course…”

Tommy’s wings drooped a little. “I guess. Will you be there?”

“If you want me to.” Sam said softly. “Or if you need space, I’ll just be outside the door.”

Ranboo thought about all that had happened. “You might… you might want to be further than that. If they want to apologise, and they mention what they’ve done… I’m not sure they’d get out of here alive.”

Sam huffed. “I’m well aware that they haven’t been great people, but if they want to apologise, then I’ll let them. You deserve to hear their apology.”

“Thanks, dad.” Tommy smiled lightly. “Do they want to talk now?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Sam nodded, but Ranboo knew that he couldn’t keep them waiting. Not when Technoblade already had a short temper.

Ranboo clambered over the slumbering bodies of his family to get to the door. “Where’s Purpled? And Punz?”

“They chatted with Phil about what they were. I left a while ago, but Punz came up to me and said they wanted to talk to you guys. Purpled’s trying to sleep on the couch now.”

Ranboo wondered what their hybrid parts were, but he knew he’d find out eventually. “Alright.”

On the way to the medical room, they did pass Purpled on the couch, wings draped awkwardly over the edges. It didn’t look comfortable, and he grunted in acknowledgement as they went by. They got to the door to the room, and Sam put a hand on their shoulders.

“If you need something, anything, let me know, okay?”

Ranboo nodded, and Tommy opened the door.

Phil and Techno were on one of the beds, looking like they didn’t belong there. Ranboo thought for a moment that they really didn’t, they’d distanced themselves from family and in doing so they had forever condemned the possibility that they could fit. It was what they deserved, but Ranboo felt sorry.

“Hey Tommy, Ranboo,” Phil said slowly. “How, uh, how’ve you been?”

Tommy scoffed as he went to sit down on a bed. “Been doing alright, considering all of my trauma.”

Ranboo cracked a smile, but it fell when Techno started talking.

“Can’t have been too bad if you’re friends with Tubbo again, given that he exiled you.”

Tommy’s eyes were set alight. “Tubbo was never part of the problem. Dream was.”

“How?” Techno asked, and Ranboo thought he almost seemed genuine. “From my point of view Dream doesn’t have anything to do with what happened. Help me understand, Tommy.”

Ranboo spoke instead. “Dream’s manipulative. He didn’t like that Tommy stood up to him, so he needed Tommy gone. But gone would get rid of the fun of this server- so exilling him and getting him submissive was the best option. Setting George’s house on fire was never as bad as he made it seem, Dream just needed a reason to exile him. That’s why he never cared that I was part of it, too.”

Phil looked surprised. “You were part of it?”

“Yeah. My first day, and I was committing arson.” He scoffed. “Not that you care.”

“We can get to that later,” Techno said. “What happened in exile, Tommy? Why were you under my house?”

Tommy’s wings fell until they settled on the bed. “Dream’s manipulative. What more do you need? What haven’t you figured out, considering that you’re able to analyze everything I do?”

“I need to hear it from you,” Techno said. “Because otherwise, I can’t be sure.”

Tommy sighed. “It started out alright, other than the fact that he blew up all my stuff and made me start from scratch. Then he did it every day, he told me to put my armor in a hole, and if I didn’t, he threatened to put me in it. He said he was my friend, he said Tubbo hated me, and ghostbur disappeared. I made a party, and Dream sent out the invites, but no one came. Only Dream, and then I started believing that he was my friend.”

“But what made you run away?” Phil asked.

“I’m getting there.” Tommy snapped. “He kept getting into my mind, making me believe that I had no one but him. I really thought he cared about me, despite all that he did to me.”

“What’d he do?” Phil interrupted again.

Tommy hesitated, so Ranboo spoke up instead. “Abused him. Why do you think he flinches? Or did you not care enough to find out?”

“I said we’d speak about that later,” Techno growled. “One thing at a time.”

Tommy barged back into the conversation. “I think it would have continued, but Dream found the room where I kept all the important things I didn’t want blown up. He blew up the entire room, then everything that I had built while in exile. He said that I deserved it, because I had disobeyed. I said sorry, but he said it wasn’t enough. He said that I needed to be punished, and I believed him, but I was so sick of it all, I was sick of exile, I was sick of life. So I took whatever building supplies remained from everything I’d worked so hard on, and I built into the sky. I didn’t reach as far as I’d wanted, but it would have been enough. I could almost touch the clouds. Then…” He trailed off.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Ranboo whispered, and Tommy just curled into his side.

“I’ll be fine. I was on that… the fucking pillar, looking down at the ground, when I realized what Dream had been doing. I’d almost let him win. I couldn’t let him win, so even though I knew my eyes were grey and I woke up every night submerged in the water, I jumped. I landed in a little lake, and ran. I ran to the snow, because I knew it would cover any footprints I made. I found your house, and I meant to just take some supplies, but it was so warm, and some part of me still hoped you’d care about me. So I burrowed under your house and tried to sleep.”

Techno made a small sound. “And you grew your wings?”

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed. “It was hell.”

“I’ll bet.” Phil huffed. “Why didn’t you have Techno call me?”

“Because I thought he wanted to put an axe through my skull.” Tommy snapped. “And I wasn’t exactly proven wrong, was I? What made you think it was a good idea to decimate my home?”

“I was angry.” Techno grumbled.

“That’s not a healthy way to take out your anger,” Ranboo argued. “And don’t you dare blame it on your voices. I know you could’ve ignored them. I know you have before.”

“They were a government,” Techo began, and Tommy groaned.

“He was sixteen!” Tommy exploded. “You expect a sixteen year old to run a country? He was stressed, and grieving, and you certainly didn’t help! The problem isn’t Tubbo, it’s that you expected him to be an adult when he never got to grow up. The problem isn’t a government, it’s that you wanted to be the most powerful thing on the server. You wanted an equal playing field, and for you, that means you control what everyone does. You weren’t some savior, you were just some overpowered guy with anger issues who wanted to destroy everything.”

Techno didn’t have a response. Ranboo figured there wasn’t really any way to respond to that.

“I guess,” Techno started after a tense silence, “you may have a point.”

Ranboo snorted, and Techno shot him a look that probably was supposed to be playful, but he couldn’t help but flinch.

Phil sighed. “And we heard what went down with Dream’s lair. Do you want to tell us about your, uh, your issues?”

Ranboo cracked a smile as Tommy draped a wing across his shoulder. “The main cause of my problems begins with D and ends in ream, pretty much. I heard his, well it wasn’t him, but it sounded like him, his voice, in my head, sometimes. Telling me I did things that I didn’t, or maybe I did. I can’t remember. It stopped when I went to the End, or sometime after. I don’t know why.”

“And why’d you go to the End?” Phil asked.

He breathed deeply. “I overheard you guys talking about your, your syndicate, or whatever you called it.”

“Oh.” Techno said, like he knew where this was going.

“I don’t even remember why I was there, but I heard Technoblade, who’s notorious for hating people using him as just a weapon, speaking about how he could send me to be their assassin to relieve them of the blame. How he could take advantage of my forgetfulness, and then I thought, surely Philza of all people would shoot that idea down, but I had to stand there and listen to Philza agree with Techno.”

Phil wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Ranboo kept going. “So I figured, this can’t get much worse, but then, and here’s the best part of it, I listened to Technoblade say that he hoped that I didn’t mistake our relationship for a personal one, because it was purely business. How was that supposed to make me feel?”

Techno wouldn’t meet his eyes either.

So, he kept going. “So I packed up my stuff, and I prepared to leave. But then, Phil noticed I was leaving. He didn’t bother to notice that I was being suspicious, almost as if he wanted me gone. The rest is history, the Enderman of the End don’t like me all that much.”

Tommy looked over at the people who used to be his family. “So? Your turn. Are you going to try to justify your actions?”

“No,” Phil said, and Ranboo noticed he almost seemed mortified. “No. Admittedly, we might have meant everything then, but after we tried to talk to Tommy last, we spoke about everything. We tried to figure out why you were angry at us, and we realized, well, we had this huge realization that, well, we’d fucked up.”

“You think?” Techno laughed. “We, amidst our thinking, might have noticed that we are, quite possibly,”

“Massive jerks?” Ranboo asked.

“A pair of bitches?” Tommy offered.

Phil and Techno both laughed a bit. Ranboo tried to not be scared.

After a while, Phil quieted. “I just… you guys are allowed to feel mad. You can be angry. But… I want you to know that we’re sorry. We’ve noticed that we’ve done wrong, we want to make it better, but it’s your choice. If you never want to see us again, we understand, but… we want a chance to fix our relationships.”

“From a business standpoint?” Ranboo asked, and Techno winced.

“I deserved that.” He admitted.

Tommy thought for a moment. “Well, as much as I would like to never have to see Techno’s ugly face or Phil’s old-ass one again, you seem at least half genuine. I guess I could give you a chance, but it’s not me that should be the deciding factor. Sure, you hurt me, but I’ve got a shit-ton of other things to get over before I even start to address it. Ranboo’s the man you should speak to about forgiveness.”

Ranboo didn’t like all the eyes on him, but he knew it was necessary. “I…” His voice cracked. “I don’t know. Me leaving led to a bunch of other trauma, and I… I just don’t know if,”

Phil smiled gently. “That’s okay. We can leave, or we can stay, or if you want to take it slow we can visit later…”

“No,” Ranboo shook his head. “You’re hurt. I’m not gonna kick you out. Just… I might not come see you for a while.”

“That’s okay,” Techno said. “Are you okay if I walk around?”

“If you take off your weapons.” Ranboo said, after a pause. “I can’t really expect you to stay cooped up here.”

“I’d do it if you asked me to.”

Ranboo tried not to immediately latch onto the fondness in Techno’s voice. He grew attached to people easily. He knew that. He’d just have to hug Sam or something after this.

“No, it’s fine.”

So that’s how Ranboo ended up in his room, alone. He still didn’t trust Techno, but he knew Tommy had missed them. He knew that Purpled and Punz needed their help. So, he’d tolerate it.

The door opened and he burrowed out from under the blankets just enough to see who was intruding on his brooding.

“Awww,” Tubbo cooed. “I know you’re probably sad but you look really cute in your little blanket cocoon.”

Ranboo rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but feel a little happier. “Whatever you say, Tubbo Underscore.”

“Can I get you anything?” Tubbo asked, softer. “I know this is rough for you.”

“What about you?” Ranboo asked. “Doesn’t the festival still scare you?”

Tubbo shrugged. “I dunno. I have nightmares about it sometimes, but it’s in the past. We’re even, too. I didn’t kill him, though.”

“It doesn’t change that he still did that to you,” Ranboo argued as Tubbo sat down. “How do you forgive him?”

“I don’t want to live with the feeling that not forgiving someone brings,” Tubbo admitted. “It might be a weak reason, but I want to move on. I don’t want to think badly of anyone. I will, if I need to, but Techno is trying to be better, I think. I don’t really know, he’s a hard person to read, but I tend to give people as many chances as they want, so I dunno.”

Ranboo grinned. “That’s a lot of ‘I don’t know’s Tubbo.”

Tubbo scoffed. “And you’re here listening, so…”

Tubbo stayed a little longer, until dinner.

Dinner was a tense affair. There were a lot of failed jokes, a lot of winces, a lot of silence. They were healing though, slowly. Ranboo knew it’d be a while, but he knew that Tommy had talked with them while he had hidden, so maybe they’d be okay. They talked about moving closer, since living in the arctic was a little unnecessary, and Ranboo was conflicted on it. He faked nonchalance, but he doubted anyone other than Phil and Techno believed him.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

He expected to just stay up, but around what he predicted was… midnight, Purpled turned over and groaned.

“Are you going to fall asleep or should we just watch a movie?”

Ranboo froze. “What?”

“Oh.” Purpled realized. “You weren’t there when I told everyone. I’m part Phantom.”

“I’m gonna act like I know what a Phantom is.” Ranboo chucked, feeling how the exhaustion was creeping over his body.

Purpled laughed. “True. Want me to tell you, or do you think that you’ll be up for a long time and wanna do something else?”

“Just talk.” Ranboo said. “I’m pretty tired.”

“I’d bet,” Purpled responded, and crawled over to where Ranboo huddled. “So, a phantom is an undead creature, which is kinda concerning, but that’s why I look like I need some rest. It can fly, and in worlds where they aren’t banned, they show up when someone hasn’t slept in three days, which is why I have characteristics that center around sleep. They don’t like daylight, which is why Punz gets a headache from sunlight, I guess. Uhh…”

Ranboo leaned his head on Purpled’s shoulder and sighed. “Continue.”

“I will. Oh, my eyes glow. I don’t know why, but it might be because there’s something to do with invisibility potions don’t work on their eyes? I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening when Phil talked about it. They’re apparently the fastest mob, so that’s why Punz is fast, uh, what else… you getting sleepy there?”

Ranboo hummed.

Purpled went on. “Oh, elytras are made of phantom membrane. Since you can only get elytras from the End, I guess that’s why I found the portal.”

Almost asleep, Ranboo frowned. “Don’t go to the End. It’s not nice.”

“Not nice?”

“No. The creatures don’t like me, but the void does, I think.”

Purpled frowned too. “The void?”

“Yeah. The void talks to me. She calls herself Death, but I don’t believe it. She was mad at Phil.”

“Yeah?” Purpled asked, and it’s clear he doesn’t really believe Ranboo. “Death and you had a chat?”

“Mhmm. She said she had to stop. She was nice, though.”

“Don’t go chatting with death.” Purpled said softly, as Ranboo started to drift asleep. “I want you to stay alive, okay?”

Ranboo nodded, but he was asleep a few seconds later, leaving Purpled alone with his thoughts.

If he was part of an undead mob, and Death was a real being, hypothetically, would he be able to talk to her? Purpled ended up deciding it was a question for another day, because it wasn’t really his problem. Death would show herself eventually, if she was mad at Phil, poor guy.