#because they need to BECOME friends first

[literaila]

i always think of this whenever i’m abt to sleep

imagine yuji and nobara going over to megumis house during summer break (it’s rlly gojos house cuz yk) and imagine reader sitting on the couch with baby gojo and theyre so shocked gojo has another child😭

“no, satoru, i already told you not to—“

“it doesn’t even make sense,” he’s saying, rolling his eyes like he’s the child here. “why am i supposed to drink water, but she can’t?”

“first of all, you don’t drink water even when i force it down your throat—“

“i am beyond biology—“

“and second of all, because she’s a baby.”

he pouts. “won’t she get thirsty?”

“you literally just gave her a bottle. you stole it from my hands.”

“because i’m bonding.”

even as you bicker, the two of you are staring down at the little baby, watching as her eyes flicker in sleep, her nose scrunching up like she wants you to squeeze her.

and even as you fight, the smile on your face matches satoru’s—adoring, mesmerized by this tiny little thing in his arms.

so mesmerized, in fact, that you don’t even notice when the front door opens. or when three teenagers—stomping, like teenagers do—trail into the house.

megumi walks into the kitchen to grab something, but both yuji and nobara stop when they notice you and satoru on the couch. neither of them says a thing as they listen to your hissing voices—quiet enough not to wake the baby.

megumi walks back into the room, sipping from a glass, and raises a brow at both of his “friends.” they’ve been here before, they know where his room is.

“uh, are we supposed to just ignore them?” nobara asks, giving megumi a weird look.

he looks over—obviously not having noticed this scene—and then rolls his eyes. “yes.”

he turns to walk to his room, mind on textbooks and avoiding his very annoying parents, when yuji grabs his arm.

“but, fushiguro,” the voice says, voice soft and somehow whining. “there’s a baby.”

“and?”

yuji is too busy staring at the bundle in satoru’s arms to answer, and he carefully tiptoes over to the couch, wide smile on his face.

already cooing, of course.

you look up, grinning. “oh, hi, yuji.”

yuji tilts his head, watching as satoru traces tiny circles on baby soft skin.

satoru looks up. “i’m not letting you hold her,” he tells the boy, “it’s still my turn.”

you sigh. “satoru—“

“oh, no, i don’t—i mean, i don’t even know how. i just wanted to…” yuji is staring at the child like she’s an alien, but it took all of three seconds for him to become just as mesmerized as the two of you. “is she… yours?”

yuji’s eyes widen, and he looks perturbed back at megumi. was he not even going to mention his baby sister—

“seriously, dude?” nobara says for the two of them, punching megumi’s arm. “what else are you keeping from us?”

yuji looks back to the two of you, satoru nodding vigorously.

you pull his hair. “no, she’s not ours. we’re just babysitting for a friend.”

satoru coughs and says something that sounds suspiciously like “for now,” under his breath.

you pull at his hair a little harder, grinning at him when he can’t push you away.

“she’s adorable.”

nobara nears the three—four?—of you as well, looking at the baby. “are you sure you can trust him with her?” she asks you, giving satoru a wary eye.

you laugh and satoru pouts.

“it’s just a baby,” megumi says, groaning from behind both of his friends. “what’s the big deal? we have to study.”

“she’s cute,” nobara tells him, “that’s the big deal.”

“don’t listen to him,” you whisper, “he was all over her before he left.”

yuji laughs back at him and nobara huffs.

megumi just rolls his eyes again. “are you two coming?”

you smile at the two of them, then back at megumi. really, he’s sweet. really. “if you’re still here when she wakes up again, you can feed her.”

yuji grins. “really?”

“sure.”

“um,” satoru cough, eyeing you, very disturbed. “that’s my job.”

“you need to share.”

“i’m not sharing my own child—“

“not ours,” you sing, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“but she could be. i recently learned how babies are made, and i think we could pull it off—“

you laugh and megumi groans again. “i’m leaving,” he says, turning and storming down the hall.

“i’ll come and tell you if she’s hungry,” you say to the other two, ruffing yuji’s hair.

“okay!”

nobara gives the baby one last look, and then she’s following megumi out of the room, yuji taking just a moment longer—frowning—but eventually following along.

“i’m serious, you know,” satoru whispers, resuming his circles on her unblemished face.

“yeah, i know.”

“why not?”

“because you’re still a child, and megumi’s just started school—“

“megumi wants a baby more than i do.”

you roll your eyes.

“we’d make a good baby,” satoru says to you, “even cuter than her.”

you sigh, moving even closer to him, your side pressed up against his. “yeah.”

“i’ll wait,” satoru says, “but i know you’re lying.”

“i’m not lying—“

“you almost started crying when she sneezed earlier—“

“no, i did not—“

[dunmeshi-darlings]

There are a few misconceptions on shuro and his behaviors. The reason he was furious at laios for reviving falin using dark magic isnt really that he used dark magic (kabru even poins out shuro would have done the same). But Instead his anger is because he used black magic he put Falins life (as well as everyone elses) in danger because he knows just how the western elves react to black magic and black magic users. As for shuro's feelings towards laios for not picking up on social cues, it was shitty of him to do that however you do need to also take into consideration the kind of culture/life shuro has. He comes from a highly dignified Japanese style royal family, We see that him asking for help saving falin was the first "selfish" request he has ever made. The fact it is considered a "selfish" request speaks volumes on the kind of world that shuro comes from. After shuro and laios fight we see that shuro is actually envious of laios and how he views the world, showing that a portion of his anger isnt really from laios not picking up on his social cues but perhaps more so that laios was ALLOWED to be how he is. Even after their fight shuro offers to give laios sanctuary from the western elves, giving him the bell that when rung would have shuro sending people to go retrieve him and his friends and keep them safe from the western elves. if shuro deeply hated laios he wouldnt have offered this, if he didnt care about laios he wouldnt have offered him a safe place to live if the western elves come after him. i also want to bring up people saying he abandoned asebi/izutsumi. Which is also not true, in his own words when asked about her being left behind. "she will come back to us if she wants to." he explicitly states if she wants to, she will come back. To me this is him letting her make her own choice on what she wants to do with her life. Something that shows to me that i believe shuro has always felt perhaps some form of guilt at her situation but not able to do anything because of who he is and his father and his caretaker with him.

Shuro is not a perfect person, he has his flaws. But he IS a person, thats what people are. We have flaws and make mistakes and have issues that we do wrong on. Shuro is a man living his life and one who makes mistakes, everyone makes mistakes. I wanted to post this and talk about it because sadly some people ar being incredibly hateful about him and people that like him. Which is a shame as it is mostly a misunderstanding. Though i wont lie some of it does feel like its starting to become racist or because of people upset he could get in the way of farcille ship.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {7}

Summary: The first night at Charles’ house is almost ruined before it can even begin. Warnings: angst, light smut WC: 3.2k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.

The paper bag in your hands crinkled as you opened it to see what Charles had asked you to carry. “What is this?” 

“Dinner.”

You raised a brow and closed it back up. “Those are ingredients,” you corrected, placing it on the kitchen bench in his apartment. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to cook because you will be bitterly disappointed.”

He laughed as he closed the front door and kicked his shoes off. “It’s all prepared, the pasta just needs boiling but I can do that. Why don’t you take a look around?”

You already planned on being nosey when he wasn’t looking but now you could openly snoop and happily left him to his own devices. Like most apartments in Monaco, it was smaller than you were used to but it was more than enough for a man living on his own. 

You circled the living room and tried not to be envious of all the photos he had hung in frames around the room. Faces you recognised held carefree smiles that they never had in your presence and Charles was no exception. You thought you had seen his real smile but even that was strained compared to what was captured when he was with his friends and family.

“I’m starting to think that frown is just your resting face,” Charles commented as he stepped out of the galley kitchen to see your progress. 

You schooled your face until the lines evened out and a mild look of boredom hid your thoughts as you turned away from the photos and found something that made your heart nearly stop. The manuscript was plain and unassuming on the shelf, the title print small and barely legible on the bare sewn spine, but you knew that book.

“You stole it.”

Charles’ confused gaze followed you to the bookshelf. “What?”

“It wasn’t enough to take him from me but you took our book too,” you muttered as you tugged it from the shelf and ran your fingers across the faded purple inscription in the corner: For Jules. A hint of the berry scented ink still clung to the page and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you opened it to the dog eared page you left behind.

“This was a mistake,” you said as you closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. If it wasn’t this, it would just be something else- there was too much history to think this could ever work. “I can’t do this, Charles.”

He intercepted your exit, blocking the door with pleading eyes. “Wait, please. I didn’t know it was yours. You can have it back.” 

“I don’t want it back! I want to finish reading it to him but I’ll never get that chance because of you.” You took a step closer, ready to go through him to get out the door but he surprised you by sliding down the white panel until his ass planted on the floor. Charles pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them as he looked down to hide in shame.

The moment of silence dragged on as his breath grew as ragged as yours and you both relived that day in the hospital.

“I’m sorry,” he stressed as he threw his head back, the thud heavy against the wood. “I’m fucking sorry! For all of it. I didn’t deserve the time I got with him, I don’t deserve this career - it should have been his, like you. I definitely don’t deserve you.”

You slumped to the floor too with your back to the kitchen cabinets. This was not how you imagined your evening going. The plan had been simple; stay the night with Charles and arrive at the paddock for his first practice together - hard launching the relationship and confirming all the rumours that you had both started.

“When did this become your pity party?” you asked as you studied the herringbone tile floor instead of the enigma sitting opposite you.

Charles’ jaw dropped and he shook his head as he stammered over his words. “It’s not…I’m not…that’s not what…”

“How do you make it through interviews? One question and you’re a blithering mess.” You rolled your eyes and stretched your leg out to nudge his foot. “You are wrong by the way. I wasn’t meant to be Jules’ either.”

“I know.” He nodded and sighed, wiping his nose that had turned pink. “It probably doesn’t change anything but I finished it. I read him that book before he…before he died.”

You pushed yourself up to your feet and offered him your hand. His palm was clammy against your skin and you barely made any effort to pull him up as he did the work himself, rising to his full height in front of you. “You’re right, it doesn’t change anything,” you admitted, watching his shoulders deflate. 

“Figured as much.”

“But,” you said as you held a finger up when he went to move away and he froze, “that was a proper apology that actually felt real.”

“So you forgive me?”

“No, I don’t even know how to do that, but I’m not going to leave.”

He smiled like it was a small victory and enveloped you in one of his spontaneous hugs that you were slowly growing used to. “I don’t know how, but I am going to make it up to you one day. I promise.”

“How about you start with just making dinner?” You stepped out of his embrace and looked around the room with weary eyes. “I’m not going to find any more surprises, am I?”

He chewed his lip as he thought for a moment. “I have his helmet in my office but the door is closed.”

You swallowed deeply and nodded. You were going to avoid that room at all costs. “Keep it that way.”

Panic gripped you as the bike started to wobble. Your feet tangled in the pedals and your fingers slipped from the brakes before the gravel driveway rapidly came up to meet you. The skin on your knees stung with the dozens of little stones that grazed them and your elbows were in a similar state as you lay sprawled beneath the summer sun. 

“Up you get,” Jules said as he dusted the stones off and picked you up. 

Your bottom lip began to tremble and he shook his head. “There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn.”

“I don’t want to laugh,” you grumbled, kicking the bike to emphasise your displeasure.

Jules shrugged and picked the bike up, holding it out for you to try once more. “Well, that’s usually when you need to the most.”

You accepted the bike and looked longingly at the trainer wheels he had taken off. The plastic wheels were beside his kart that was propped up on a stand, some of the parts in pieces for him to finish cleaning before he rebuilt it for the race. “Do you think you can win?”

“Absolutely, just like I know you can ride that bike.”

“I fell off.”

He laughed at your attitude and knew you would be a handful when you grew up. Pointing to the driveway he said, “Then you better try again, no? Because if you don’t ride it then I can’t win!” 

You laughed at the stupidity of the statement but rose to the challenge, throwing a leg over the pastel pink bike and ringing the little bell on the handle for good luck. “You better win, Jules.”

You took a deep breath and pushed the pedal down, slowly building momentum. The wind blew your hair back and you laughed as you realised you were doing it. You were biking…straight towards the wrought iron gates.

You jolted awake in the unfamiliar bedroom and found Charles sleeping soundly. Though you had woken before the impact came you knew Jules had saved you. The lanky teen had sprinted after the bike and grabbed you from the seat before it careened into the metal, buckling the front wheel. You hadn’t quite mastered bike riding that week but Jules still won his karting race.

Sleep was as distant as the memory that had resurfaced so you quietly slipped from the room and found yourself at the bookshelf. Sometimes you wished you had no memory, then you couldn’t be reminded of how happy you had been. But, on the flipside, if you didn’t have the memory you feared you would never know what happiness was at all. 

When Charles woke to an empty bed he wondered if you had left after all despite watching you fall asleep beside him. It was only the sound of the balcony door sliding open that let him breathe a sigh of relief and he climbed out of the bed to check on you. A cool breeze left a chill in the air of the living room and Charles grabbed the blanket that hung from the back of the sofa before he stepped outside.

“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he whispered to the night. The Ferrari shirt you wore fell halfway down your thighs but curled up on the outdoor settee had the red material barely covering your underwear and Charles covered the bare skin with the blanket.

“Bad dream?” he asked as he took a seat beside you and noticed the book in your hands. 

“Worse,” you replied. “A good memory.”

Charles draped his arm over the back of your seat, his fingers softly touching your shoulder, and he tucked his legs under the blanket too. “Want to talk about it?”

You gave him a look that made him chuckle before turning your attention back to the page. You were halfway through the story and you could finally appreciate the action thriller now that you understood the vengeance Jack Reacher felt and the way he fought but even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the dream. With an irritated sign, you closed the book and took to searching the stars instead. 

“Charles?” He hummed quietly and you looked across to see his relaxed state watching the dark sky too. “If I ask you something, can you just do it without reading too much into it?”

He tore his eyes away from the brightest star in the sky and frowned. “Uh, I guess it depends on what you ask me.”

“I want you to kiss me.”

His lips curled up in a slow smile and his fingers danced across your collar to the base of your throat as he leaned in. “You don’t have to ask me.”

“It’s not because I like you, I just need something to stop me thinking,” you clarified. 

“Again, you don’t have to ask me.” His lips brushed against yours before they teased your jawline and his breath warmed your ear. “You can use me however you want.”

It was already a messy situation and adding sex to the mix was only going to end badly but you needed it. You needed to forget the thoughts racing through your head and you needed the high of an orgasm. Charles was more than willing to give you both when he carried you back to his bed.

The next time you woke you were in a far better headspace.

You felt the ghost of a kiss on your cheek before Charles left to get ready for the day but you buried your head deeper in the pillow and tried to ignore the sweet ache in your body. It was impossible. Your core throbbed with the memory of how he had filled it and your thighs pressed together in search of friction only to feel the beard burn he had left between them. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as you realised you would not be getting back to sleep.

“Regretting your life choices?” Charles asked from the doorway, two mugs of coffee in his hands and not a lick of clothing to be seen.

“On the list of my regrets, this doesn’t even register,” you said as you sat up and accepted the hot cup, your state of undress not much better. “But it would have been easier if you sucked in bed.”

“How’s that?” He lifted his pillow up against the headboard and took a seat with an amused grin at the compliment.

“For starters, I wouldn’t want to do it again. Things are already complicated enough and now I have technically been fucked by my boss.”

“If you want to get technical, you fucked me,” he pointed out with a smirk. “You were in control, babe.”

You took a deep breath and told yourself it was too early for violence, even if he was right. Charles had been quite clear on the fact you were in control, especially when he sat in much the same position against the headboard and let you ride him into oblivion. “Maybe it will make it on my list of regrets after all.”

“You can worry about them later,” he said after a few mouthfuls of his coffee. “We should start getting ready to head to the track and your hair screams ‘sex’. Bathroom is across the hall, there’s a new toothbrush in the top drawer if you need.”

“Wow, a spare toothbrush? That screams manwhore.”

“I’m just being a gentleman, you’re the one that swallowed.”

You nearly spilled the coffee with the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth unexpectedly. “Ah, there’s the regret. I knew I should have snowballed you.”

His nose wrinkled with the idea and you laughed darkly. Next time he would probably hesitate and remember this conversation. You froze. You were already thinking about the next time you would fuck and that was enough to stun you silent so you busied your mouth finishing the drink. 

It was hard not to fall in love with the atmosphere of race week in Monaco. Arriving hand in hand with Charles had the desired effect and you were still feeling the ripples of it as the day ended. 

“I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do anything,” you admitted through the headset as the private helicopter whisked you back to Nice. 

Charles flexed his hand that had furiously signed autographs right up until the moment he stepped inside the helicopter. “It gets like that sometimes but I only feel it after everything goes quiet.”

“Are you sure you want to come to this dinner? You can go home and rest. Jacques can fly you back.”

Charles reached across the seat and took your hand even though there was no audience to witness the touch. “And leave you alone with your parents?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I have managed to survive 25 years on my own.”

“That’s a miracle in itself. I probably wouldn’t be trusted with the steak knife if that was me.”

You grinned at the joke and rested your head on his shoulder. “I like this dark side of you.”

“I suppose that’s a start.”

Your good mood was brought down the moment you spotted the mansion before landing. Too many cars lined the driveway for the simple family dinner your mother planned and you fell quiet as the helicopter touched down in the backyard. 

“What is this?” Charles asked, looking down at his casual jeans and sweatshirt.

“The tenth circle of hell,” you muttered.

Veronica was practically vibrating with excitement when you arrived at the patio door and she held out two tickets for the opera tomorrow night, as requested. “Silly girl. You have dinner with Prince Albert, you can’t even go.”

Charles knew better after seeing the many masks you had adorned to hide your thoughts but it still amazed him how quickly you could become a woman he didn’t recognise. A sneer grew, twisting your smile into a cruel mockery of the one he knew and your eyes narrowed as you swiped the tickets from her hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“I tried, but that’s what you get for being a spoiled little brat.”

“Alicia! My room, now!” Your voice carried through the mansion and you stormed up the stairs with Charles following behind, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. The maid was already waiting outside your bedroom door when you arrived and you barrelled inside, slamming the door shut in Veronica’s smirking face.

The dress hanging in the closet was still wrapped in the garment bag and you took it off the hanger, holding it out to Alicia. “Get this dress out of my sight! I never want to see it again.”

Alicia looked a little shocked at the outburst you needed to be heard through the door. “But it is McQueen.”

“I don’t care!” You lowered your voice to a whisper and reached into your pocket. “Here’s two tickets to La Bohème, take the dress and go with Javier. You didn’t think I forgot your anniversary, did you? Go.”

Tears filled Alicia’s eyes and she threw her arms around you. “Thank you.”

You shook your head and sincerely said, “You deserve more than this.”

Alicia dipped at the waist and delicately hung the dress over her arm as she walked to the door. Veronica saw the tears in Alicia’s eyes and shook her head as the quiet maid rushed down the stairwell.

“Your father will hear about this tantrum.”

You tipped your nose up and crossed your arms smugly. “I’m his only child, that makes me his favourite by default. Now run along and tell him.”

Veronica turned on her heel with a scoff and you closed the door before sighing heavily. You would probably pay for the insolence in one way or another but it was worth it.

“Why did you do that?” Charles asked as he reached past your hip and locked the door.

“I couldn’t pay for the tickets myself and they already think the worst of me, might as well play the fool for a good cause.”

Charles opened his arms and you stepped into the embrace. He could see how draining the act was and couldn’t wait until the day you left Nice. “You’re a good person,” he said quietly before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t think the guests downstairs would agree with you. I don’t even know why they are here.”

You found out soon enough when you emerged from your room dressed in more appropriate attire. Just as you suspected, it was punishment and you would play the fool once again for your mother’s entertainment. You felt sick seeing the grand piano in the dining hall and your fingers stiffened at the thought of sitting in front of the guests to play at her whim.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked as he saw your pallor fade.

Forcing the discontent away, you smiled in time for the first guest to spot your entrance into the room. “Just peachy, Charles. Ready to act lovesick?”

He didn’t need to act, and you found it all too easy that maybe it wasn’t acting either. Your body fit perfectly into the curve of his arm and you moved together through the room making introductions. But all too soon your mother dragged you away and snapped her finger at the piano.

“The Economy Minister favours Beethoven,” she whispered with a look to the man your father was for lack of a better word, schmoozing. “Don’t fuck this up.”

[dfortrafalgar]

Hiii! I'm so happy you are taking requests! I love the way you write, everything feels so real! I'm loving ILY and it's a bittersweet feeling now that it is ending (I'm the anon that commented early on saying that it was so relatable because I also had a miscarriage at 6 weeks). Thank you for that fic 🥰🤗

Now, my requests, if you choose to take it! I would love a jealous/protective Law X fem reader. I was thinking, no established relationship but some flirting going on, perhaps. Could be SFW or NSFW, it's up to you! I would just really loooooove some protective Law! I'm also obsessed with his hands so you can do whatever with that 😂

Did I mention that I love your writting? I did? I'll do it again. Thank you for sharing your gift! ❤️

I'm in annon but you can call me R.J. 😋😎

AAA HELLO R.J im so happy to hear from you again!!!!! no lie ive been thinking about you every day, your first message during my story was so amazingly sweet and touching and i havent been able to stop thinking about it, im so happy that you loved the end of the fic and to hear that you're doing well!!! <333

i ended up projecting a bit in this fic... and it ended up being a bit more Protective Law rather than Jealous Law, but i hope you like it all the same! i also juggled on nsfw, but decided that sfw worked better for this specific plot, so i hope that's alright!!!

thank you so much for requesting!!!! 💗❤️💓💕

Decontaminate the Heart

Law x Fem Reader

Your feelings toward Law had gone from a reasonable level of respect to a deep infatuation that you were readily keeping hidden. An unfortunate encounter with a predatory shopkeep might be what unravels your feelings... and the feelings of your captain.

Warnings: some descriptions of gross behavior from a stranger, light fluff, pre-relationship vibes, protective law but also struggling-to-accept-his-feelings awkward law

Law wasn’t fond of the word ‘jealous.’  After all, he was a seasoned veteran in the long game of Keeping All Human Emotions Bottled Up Inside So That You Don’t Show Weakness To Those Who Might Be Out To Hurt You.  He had become a pro at it, too.  After all, putting a word to an undefined emotion only validated that feeling, which was exactly the opposite of what Law needed.  Mouth constantly downturned in a pensive frown, steely, cold eyes shutting down all encounters with those he deemed unfamiliar or even the slightest bit threatening, holding even his closest friends at arm’s length on good days.  If he wasn’t the strong-willed, feared captain of the Heart Pirates, a man with a three billion beri bounty on his head, then who was he?

The answer is: a loser.  He was a loser.  Especially after he brought you on board his crew as a boatswain.  That day, he unwillingly began the downward spiral that would transform into his emotional demise.  A psychic catastrophe.  An inner turmoil of the highest degree.

Ikkaku called it infatuation.  Bepo called it love.  The rest of his raunchy, stifled male crew called it being horny.

Whatever it was, it had Law in a steel trap, never letting go.

And on a particularly warm, sunny day, docked cliffside on an island with idyllic spring weather, his steel trap was donned in a flowy sundress that complimented her entire outward appearance in a way he didn’t think was humanly possible.  When she first greeted Law before they departed the Polar Tang, she had bent down slightly, holding her hands together in front of her and pushing her biceps together just enough that her cleavage was on center stage for just a brief moment.  She had giggled at the way Law’s face flushed with a crimson hue.  Unprovoked… but not necessarily unappreciated.

Days for leisure were hard to come by as a pirate, so the crew was sure to take full advantage of the opportunities that crossed your path.  The pirates were given the freedom to roam to their heart’s content, so long as they didn’t cause trouble.  “Stress-free activities are crucial to maintaining good cardiac health,” Law would say.  But everyone knew he enjoyed some sparring days off just as much as any average bloke.

Especially when those days off were spent in your company.

“Thank you for coming with me, Captain!” you quipped, your voice cheerful as you walked beside him, a small paper bag clutched in your hand, containing a small product you had just purchased from one of the local shops.  The entire crew had shed their usual boiler suits for the day in exchange for more casual attire, you taking the opportunity to don the sundress that you had purchased a few months ago with Ikkaku.  “I’m always happy when you take days off to get out of that stuffy office of your’s.”

Law fought tooth and nail to keep the pleased smirk that twitched his lips from showing on his face.  He already needed to duel with his wandering eyes which kept itching to gaze at the way your breasts fit into the bodice of your light, flowy gown.  “Of course, it’s nice to get out sometimes.”  ‘With you,’ he added in his head before quickly balling up the thought into a crumpled mess and chucking it into a garbage pail.  The worst part about all of this, unrelated to walking side-by-side with you (which was the complete opposite of a bad thing), was the fact that he was pressured to leave Kikoku behind on the Polar Tang.  He felt naked without his sword perched on his right shoulder.

Your eyes were eagerly glancing between the storefronts that surrounded you on both sides, happy townspeople window shopping with their families and loved ones, partaking in the outdoor food markets, and spending quality time in the sun.  The domestic bliss of days like this always made your soul feel lighter, your footsteps almost floating off the ground.  A few couples passed by, their hands intertwined and souls combining with bliss, a sight that made Law’s own fingers twitch with the deep-seeded need to grasp your hand.  Every once in a while, your own fingers would tingle with the desire to reach out for him as well.

He wouldn’t hold your hand because of affection, Law told himself.  It was just to make sure other people knew you were off limits.

Was that because of affection?  Was he even entitled to such a thought?  

He stifled a frustrated groan.  “Are you looking for something?” he asked curiously, picking up on the way your gleaming eyes darted to and fro.

“There was a shop I read about in the latest paper that I could have sworn was on this island…” you muttered, bringing your free hand up to nervously stroke the skin of your cheek.  After a few more moments, your face lit up as your eyes landed on a shop tucked away between two larger markets, almost completely hidden from public view.  “Found it!”

Law’s heart almost leapt out of his throat when you subconsciously snatched his hand, yanking him out of the flow of people on the street and towards the storefront.  His stern golden eyes flashed up towards the sign above the front door.

‘WILD BILL’S PAWN SHOP’

“You read about this somewhere?” he asked, his voice revealing a level of skepticism as you stopped in front of the front door.  A dingy, beat-up ‘OPEN’ sign carved into a plank of birch wood and hanging from a rusty chain was flipped outward toward the street, beckoning townsfolk inside to peruse whatever wares were contained within the unassuming wooden shack.

You excitedly nodded.  “Yup, I was looking for places that might sell rare coins.”

Law’s breath caught in his throat.  “But you don’t collect coins.”

“I was looking for you!” you called out, flashing him a smile that could have easily put him in an early grave.  So much for being conscious of his heart health.  With the way his organ was hammering behind his sternum, he had half a mind to be worried about spontaneous cardiac arrest.

Instead of responding, all he could muster was a quiet, pensive, “Hmm.”

You finally released his hand (his palm felt so cold now), and pushed open the thin wooden door to enter the shop.  An obnoxious, ear-piercing bell chimed above the hinges, alerting any other shoppers or employees of your entrance.  Law always hated gimmicks like that, they were a pirate’s worst nightmare.  Instantly, the smell of centuries old dust and mildew flooded Law’s nose, making him suppress a sneeze into the collar of his shirt.  He was about to make a snide remark about being susceptible to allergens, but kept his lips sealed when an amused giggle emitted from your lips at the way his face contorted with mild disgust.

He blindly followed you to the back of the store, past dusty shelves containing books from all walks of life, old technology that Law had never even seen before, and antiques from across the globe.  Your expression remained one of wonder as you passed by each new item, gazing fondly at some of the more sentimental goods- boxes of old postcards, old newspapers from decades prior, wanted posters for pirates long deceased.  For such a ratty-looking establishment, the variety of wares this ‘Wild Bill’ had on hand was quite impressive.  In the very back of the store, a long glass case spanning almost the entire length of the wall was situated, separating a back room from the rest of the establishment.  There was a small space to walk around behind the case in between the wall, where small sliding doors were built in to allow someone to remove the wares kept safe inside.

Law’s eyes finally lit up in wonder.

A plethora of fine metalwork was kept in the special enclosure, jewelry with the finest minerals and perfectly sculpted details in precious velvet boxes, metal treasures surely passed down through generations of wealth, and in the nearest corner, an assortment of collectable, commemorative coins from across the world.  You smiled to yourself as Law drifted toward the coins, crouching down on his calves to more closely inspect what the shop had to offer.

He was so adorable.

“Can I help you folks with anything?” a voice from behind you asked, startling you from your affectionate daze.

A larger, older man emerged from behind one of the tall bookshelves, his hands in his pockets.  He was dressed surprisingly gaudy, a bright purple overcoat that traveled past his rump covering a sky-blue button-up shirt and a polka dot bowtie.  His belly was quite large, a curled handlebar mustache perched atop his upper lip.  He looked wildly out of place in such a modest, dusty shop.  Must be Wild Bill.

You flashed a cordial smile.  “Just looking around!”

The sound of your talking alerted Law, who stayed crouched in front of the coin collection but tossed accusatory glares over his shoulder, assessing the man’s interactions with you under an analytical gaze.  Out of instinct, as a pirate.  As a captain.  Nothing more… probably.

“Well, let me know if you need help finding anything!” the man hollered, his receding hairline making the dim light of the nearby lamps reflect off his oily skin.  He stepped behind the glass containers with a small huff and disappeared into the back room, a curtain swooping closed behind him.

With the outrageous stranger gone, Law resumed looking over the fine details of each coin housed within their own individual boxes, while you approached the other end of the glass case and examined the jewelry.

Your eyes darted excitedly between pieces.  Delicate rings with rare gemstones sat perfectly in their boxes, some dated as old as centuries ago.  A bracelet that was assembled with the finest minerals, gleaming brightly through the dim atmosphere of the shop.  As your eyes continued to dart from one object to the next, you finally found yourself entranced by one thing in particular.  It was a necklace, more of a choker than a longer-hanging piece, with a small purple amethyst mounted elegantly in the center of a silver pendant.  The complimentary silver chain seemed to be fairly heavy duty just as it was delicate enough to still be an elegant accessory.  You felt a smile pull at your lips.  You doubted you had enough beri to afford it, but you’d be damned if you couldn’t at least try it on.

Wild Bill once again appeared from behind the curtain after a few moments, placing a few items on top of the counter to be placed inside the glass enclosure.  Law watched as the old man’s gaze turned to you as you bent over, tucking your dress behind your knees to crouch down and get a closer look at the amethyst necklace.

“Anything caught your eye, missy?” Bill asked, his voice far too loud for such a small shop as he leaned over the top of the counter and gazed through the transparent surface at the pieces you were admiring.  A seemingly friendly smile adorned his pudgy face.

You enthusiastically nodded.  “Yes, actually, can I try on this necklace?”  Your finger pointed through the protective barrier toward your interest.  “The one with the small amethyst pendant.”

Law kept watching your interaction out of the corner of his eye.

“Of course, of course!” boomed Bill, bending over and sliding the door of the case open to remove the necklace, holding it by the chain in his large, burly hand.  

Without being asked, he stepped out from behind the counter and approached you from behind, unclasping the chain and looping it around your neck.  Law watched, his leg muscles tensing as you visibly stiffened at the proximity of the man as he clasped the chain together around your neck.  He pulled over a small standing mirror to have you admire the piece that sat elegantly between your collarbones.  Your fingers ghosted over the gemstone embedded in the fine silver, a small smile ghosting over your lips.

“It looks absolutely beautiful,” you whispered.

Bill stepped closer, almost pinning you from behind against the counter.  His large hands rested against the glass case, caging you in.  “It does… fitting for a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

The air went ice cold as Law watched the man’s hand wander upward, trailing across your forearm and up toward your bicep, across your shoulder and to your neck.  Your face had quickly contorted into an expression of terror, having been caged against the counter all of a sudden against your will, being caressed by this stranger.  Law felt frozen.  His brain was screaming at him to move, to do something, to get you out of this shop as soon as possible.  But he couldn’t move.  Why couldn’t he move?

“I’m sorry, I think I’m going to pass, actually,” you uttered, trying to push yourself away from him.  Your voice had quickly grown shaky, apprehensive.

“No, no, it really does suit you!” Bill murmured, his head angling downward, predatory eyes gazing over the soft skin of your neck.  The way he kept you pinned against the counter prevented you from moving away from him.  His belly was almost pushed flush against your back, making your hands tremble in fear.

“ROOM.”

A flash of blue light engulfed the surrounding area.  You immediately breathed a sigh of mild relief.  A static sensation permeated the space around you, making goosebumps rise across your skin and the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.  Just as soon as the bubble surrounded you, the predatory man was replaced with your captain standing protectively behind you, his lean hand on your shoulder to keep you steady.

Now he’d done it.

“You’re…” Bill stammered, his own hands shaking with realization.  “I’ve seen that ability, you’re… you’re…!”

Law didn’t give him time to fully realize who’s identity he was dealing with before his hand was in yours, forcefully dragging you out of the shop, harshly pushing between narrow shelves of delicate antiques until the two of you burst back out into the sunlight.  Law didn’t let up his pace, your feet barely keeping you steady as you ran.  Onlookers stepped back, shocked gasps and wide eyes following the two of you in your mad scramble back to the cliff where the submarine was kept concealed.  He just needed to get you some place secure.  Somewhere where you could wash away the phantom grime of the hands that had just touched you.

What a bad day to leave his sword behind.

The two of you had just barely made it past the outskirts of the port town when you tripped, slamming into Law’s backside and falling to your knees with a pained grunt.  The shoes you were wearing definitely weren’t built for mad sprints through a town.

“Shit…” Law grumbled, crouching down in front of you.  “Are you alright?”

Your hands were still shaking, anxiously palming the dirt and grass beneath your fingers as your lungs heaved, desperate to catch up on the oxygen you lost in your frantic sprint.  Small tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes, but you were quick to blink them away.  Your heart was pounding madly in your chest, your brain a fuzzy mess of scrambled, panicked thoughts that couldn’t make sense in any order.  Law was so close to you, so close you could almost smell the mild soap he used in the shower.  Something woody.  Mellow.  So very him.  You wanted to hug him.  The stress of the sudden incident was rapidly catching up to you.

Instead, the only thing you managed to do was blurt out an awkward, weary, “Thank you.”

Law wordlessly helped you to your feet, walking you back to the Polar Tang.  His mouth was drawn in that pensive line once more.

—

It took a few hours for you to register the fact that you had sprinted out of the pawn shop with the necklace still clasped around your neck.  When you took it off, you held it gently in your hands, gazing at the way the brilliant purple gem was nestled perfectly in the metal sculpted around it.  But the fingerprints around the chain from the predatory man who groped you left a phantom burning pain on your skin.  You still loved the piece, you truly did, and you wished you could wear it, but you felt violated.  There was no denying it.

You needed to scrub it clean.  You needed to scrub your own body clean, it seemed.

Law was in the medical bay when you carefully knocked on the door, hoping that no one was in there with him.  The tired sounding, ‘Come in,’ granted you permission to gently push the heavy hatch door open, stepping into the dim lighting and closing the entrance behind you.

Your captain was in the midst of re-organizing the entire medicine cabinet, floor to ceiling.  He did it when he was stressed.

“Yeah?” was all he asked when you entered, barely looking away from his obsessive work while you stood awkwardly in the doorway, holding your necklace in your cupped hands like it was a suspicious specimen to be brought to a lab.

“I know this is a weird request, but can you disinfect this?” you asked.

You held up the necklace by the very end of the chain, dangling it in the air away from you.  Law finally turned his attention toward you, an eyebrow raised.

“Why?”  He sounded genuinely oblivious to why you would ask for such a favor.

You rocked back and forth on your heels.  “It still feels like it has the fingerprints of that guy.  From the shop,” you clarified.  When you said it out loud, you grimaced at how childish you sounded, but at the same time, you felt your concerns, your insecurities over what had transpired, were justified.

You were violated.  Case closed.

It seemed Law picked up on that as well.  As much as he struggled to put himself in other peoples’ shoes, he could see the anxious look in your eyes that told him everything he needed to know- you wanted to wash away all traces of the man who burst your personal bubble in one of the worst ways imaginable.

Law felt a searing jealousy in his chest, the sudden reminder of the way your face contorted in utter horror as you were touched.

Your captain wordlessly stepped forward and gently took the chain from your fingers.  You watched him silently as he stepped back toward the counter, rummaging through the supplies he had laid out mid-organizing before procuring an opaque bottle of rubbing alcohol and filling a small container about halfway with the solution before submerging your necklace inside.  He capped the bottle and placed it back where he found it, amongst his other disinfectant chemicals.

“We’ll let that sit for a few minutes,” he suggested.  “In the meantime, I have these wet napkins you can use to clean your neck, if you want.”

He took the words right out of your head, as if he could read your mind.  You gratefully accepted the small container of alcohol wipes, starting with your neck and rubbing the cold solution down your collarbones, chest, and arms.  You didn’t care if it would dry out your skin later, the feeling of wiping away that man’s fingerprints in some capacity was more freeing than anything else in the world.

Law simply watched, glancing away from you every once in a while when you turned at an angle that would let you see him staring wanton daggers in your direction.  He shouldn’t be watching you scrub yourself down while fully clothed, if anything that could also be a violation of your unspoken privacy.

After what felt like hours, you finally disposed of the wipes in the nearby waste receptacle while Law fished out your necklace with a gloved hand, placing it on a dry cloth and carefully removing all the liquid from the surface of the metal.

He started speaking without thinking.  “Silver and amethyst are sturdy materials that can be placed in rubbing alcohol for disinfecting,” he stated.  “If this was some other weaker gem, like an emerald, it wouldn’t be so easy.”

You grinned, stepping closer as he polished the chain.  His hand that wasn’t gloved carefully moved along the cloth, outlining the shape of the necklace folded under it in precise, delicate motions.

Goodness, you loved his hands.

“So you’re as good with rocks and minerals as you are with health science?” you asked, a small, playful smirk on your lips.

Law’s own mouth twitched upward.  “I suppose so.”  He gently unfolded the cloth and removed the necklace.  “There, all clean.”

You grinned appreciatively, turning around and brushing away any obstacles in the way of your neck.

He stared at you from behind your back.  “... What are you doing?” he asked dumbly.

You tossed a glance over your shoulder.  “Waiting for you to put it on.”

Law chewed on the inside of his cheek.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you confirmed.  “I trust you.”

What you didn’t say was just how much you trusted him.  You would willingly lay down your life for your captain, the love for him, both as a person and as a pirate, greatly surpassing that of a captain and his subordinate.  Sometimes, well, most of the time, you desperately hoped that he felt the same way.

After understanding your request, Law stepped toward you slightly, one hand still gloved as he looped the necklace around the front of your neck, bringing both ends of the chain around the back to clasp at the base of your spine.  His deft, inked fingers left scorching hot trails in their wake, your skin craving his touch.  The complete opposite of your counter in the pawn shop.

Once secured, you turned around to face him, a pleased smile on your face as your fingers once again ghosted over the delicate, purple mineral embedded into the pendant.  “How does it look?”

Law prayed that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t noticeable through the dim lighting on the medical bay.  He would put necklaces on your soft skin every day if you’d let him.

Oh, how he wished you’d let him.

“It looks great…” he mumbled, his voice soft and apprehensive.  “It suits you.”

His voice, the anxious tilt of his eyebrows, spoke volumes to you as your smile grew wider.  “Hey, Law?”

He turned his attention back to you, his lips pressed firmly together.

“Thank you for protecting me back there,” you sighed.  Your voice had gone quiet, but the look on your face was indebted.

“Of course,” he whispered back.  His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, his brain clearly struggling to say the words he so desperately wanted to say.

The sight had you suppressing a giggle as you stepped forward, fighting back your reservations as you wrapped your arms around his torso in a hug, dropping your head into the crook of his shoulder and inhaling that scent that was oh-so familiar to you.  Disinfectant and oil, so clearly from living life on the Polar Tang, but also so distinctly him.

You loved it.

You were starting to come to the conclusion that you really loved him.

And with the way Law’s arms slowly wrapped around your own body, the hands you loved so much resting between your shoulder blades and the lowest point of your back, you started to wonder if he secretly, deep down in that weary heart of his, felt the same way about you.

[desi2go]

Importance

pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader

warnings: angst, fluff

summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...

author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!

Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.

Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.

Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.

Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.

Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.

Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.

You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.

The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.

You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.

But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.

As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.

Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.

Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.

The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.

Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.

He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.

He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.

The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.

Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.

When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.

When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.

You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.

Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.

You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.

On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.

Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.

More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.

He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.

Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.

You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.

You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.

It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.

You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.

He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.

"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.

"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.

"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.

"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.

"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"

"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."

"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"

"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.

"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.

"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.

"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.

These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.

"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.

"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.

"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."

You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.

Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.

It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.

You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.

After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.

Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.

He just followed you, deep in thoughts.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.

"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."

"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.

His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.

"I love you Chan" you whispered.

"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

a Jedi Shadow!Obi-Wan AU

Introspection fucking sucks, according to Commander Fox.

The thing about him is, he’s been made out to be a bastard and ever since their batch found their calling or whatever he’s embraced that role.

Every batch needed someone who didn’t secretly want to be cuddled, who pushed others away so he could keep track of the big picture.

Cody had competed for the role for a while. As did Wolffe.

For Cody, his heart, big and fragile once you got to know him, got in the way in the end. He sees the whole picture, craves it so he won’t go crazy from the losses. But he believes in people and their goodness.

Fox doesn’t.

Wolffe made the mistake of getting the galaxy’s best General. General Koon shits rainbows and glitter, from what Fox has been forced to listen to.

Fox has… the Chancellor.

He takes a swig of water and wishes it were something stronger. But Quin is on the other side of Fox’s desk, reading glasses ever so slowly slipping down his nose while he’s crunching and tracking the numbers to prove the Chancellor is, indeed, siphoning credits off the Republic to giftwrap them for the Seppies.

He takes another swig.

Wouldn’t surprise him if Palpatine turned out to be the villain of the whole story.

Brought Fox to drink with the kind attitude, the cruelty so expertly hidden from first glance, cushioned in false promises and support.

Hadn’t been pretty. But it had been easy. You go to the right places, people are only too willing to shell out for some drinks. Entertainment and morbid curiosity what brings a clone to their knees.

Some found the lisp he has because of the scar that ransacks through his lips and tongue endearing but most hadn’t bothered with wanting him talking.

Some wanted to inspect the changes in the Corrie armor up close and cozy.

If shit hadn’t already multiplied, Organa came flouncing into the Guard offices every two weeks with a new design like they were his little dress-up dolls.

The last design, the one that stayed, had a dummy connector installed in the backplate.

Fox hadn’t mentioned it. Had stewed over how the Guard, already isolated from the rest of the GAR, wasn’t even considered for the neural network that would make them more efficient, more deadly if activated. Treated like scum on a pedestal, overlooked and taken for granted.

Fox takes every advantage he can squeeze from that.

Every batch needs a willing loner who’s got the big picture in his head at all times and doesn’t care for the minutiae.

Fox had been comfortable in that role, really. He saw Thorn and Stone and Thire and the rest of them making friends and lovers and heartbreak, and that was the last fucking thing Fox wanted.

And then came Vos. Appearing from the shadows like a designer nightmare.

For such a short time they’ve sure gone through a lot together.

To the point Vos became Quinlan became Quin became Vos again became someone Fox clung to while fighting fucking addiction and the realization that he is stupid enough to become addicted.

No matter what Quin had said, Fox was supposed to be the pinnacle of cloning and artificially creating the perfect soldier. Addiction is a weakness and fault.

Fox almost did something extremely stupid over that one.

Turns out it’s all part of the sentient experience.

Fucking sucks.

Quin had laughed at that, ugly and bruised laughter, continuing to comb his fingers over Fox’s head. “Tell me about it.”

An eloquent way to say Quin was going through withdrawal himself.

They got outside help after that.

“Hey, Depa,” Quin murmurs absently after answering his comm, pushes his glasses up.

“Quinlan, is your line still secure?”

“‘Course. Especially after Fox got his grubby little hands all over it.”

Fox shows him the middle finger of one of his grubby little hands.

“Good,” General Billaba clips out. Quin straightens up, and maybe Fox’s attention isn’t misplaced here. “Good. Commander Cody was activated by the Sith Lord and he’s bringing Obi-Wan to Coruscant.”

Activated.

Quin is silent. Blinks up at the ceiling. “Can you run that by me again?”

“Quinlan, we have reason to be believe the Chancellor is the Sith Lord.”

Hah. Fox got that one right on his bingo card, at least.

Cody got activated.

As they’ve learned, the neural network - battlefield mediation, in fancy Kamino speak - is activated by a designated Force using GAR personnel. Surprisingly, the status is even an optional display on the screens of every trooper’s vambrace. Or not so surprisingly.

Cody got activated by the Chancellor. Who is the Sith Lord the Order has been hunting.

Fox will deal with that later or never, whatever comes first.

He’s comming the Guard all across the planet, checking the weapons on his person, while General Billaba explains the situation. He appreciates her succinct manner, he’s gotta say.

“I’m on the way to detain Anakin. Mace is following the ship Commander Cody captured but we need someone to intercept them on Coruscant before he reaches Palpatine.” She halts for a brief moment. “Obi-Wan seems to believe the Commander has betrayed him when he knows about the neural link inside the clones. We are fearing the Darkness is deliberately attacking and clouding his senses.”

“I’m on my way,” Quin nods, adds with a calculating glance at Fox, “I’m not sure I have back-up.”

“Funny thing about the Alderaan design of the guard armor,” Fox comments, checking the plasma charge on his DC, and vows to give Senator fucking Organa a sliced fruit platter, “the Guard doesn’t have the connector to the neural link.”

He comms their resident medic next and orders every gundark-level tranquilizer delivered to him.

Cody got activated and is following the orders of a Sith Lord.

Stars help them.

[ashipiko]

DANCE WITH ME YOU LI-IA-IAR ♡

OVERBLOT ASHI??? ANYBODY??? the ANGST that this baby can store!!! SHEESH!!!!!!! <3 I only have one post dedicated to her and liar dance lyric analysis (the post is kinda outdated in gen) BUT…… I also have an overblot monologue as a treat 🫶 I wanted to better explain her angst and so!!! BABAM!!! enjoy

ASHI’S MONOLOGUE:

Sometimes I wonder why I ended up here.

A place named “Twisted Wonderland”, and at a school named “Night Raven College”.

At first, I figured that I was the odd one out— Y’know, the Ramshackle prefect and everything. The magicless girl at the magical all boys school? Nuts, ain’t it?

I’m known for a lot of things. Things that are different from the others. The fact that I stand out is part of the Ashi charm, something I’m known for.

But… Over time I found myself sorta feeling in place here.

Because as much as I try to believe it, I can’t safely say that I’m better than anyone else here.

I’m a fake. I make conversation and lots of friends, but for what? A backup in case something goes wrong? A sense of protection for my reputation? In what case are any of those friendships something I truly want? In what case are any of these strings more than just a tool instead of a thread made of my real feelings?

Behind this, I’m no different from any other student here. Even through my individuality, my cheerfulness, my endearing oddness… I’m still a horrible person. Using people to get what I want, toying with people and their feelings in order to gain power and gain a spot the top. All to become untouchable. It’s screwed. It’s not right.

My insides are ugly. The truth of me is something I want to keep tucked away deeply, because I don’t want people to see this part of me. A brash, annoying, selfish version of me, everything people hate to see. I don’t want this side of me to be seen because people will run away— people I don’t care much about, sures, but people I love, too. I don’t want to drive them away. So I keep quiet and give them a shallow show.

I give them a source of entertainment that’s controlled by the real me, every calculated movement translating into a marionette-like response. The only show I allow you to see is one that’s so carefully crafted by the chaotic clown backstage. The one that is shunned away from the light, the strings being the only hint of the puppet’s phony existence to the foolish audience.

But suddenly, I feel as if being here has started to let this side of me come crawling back into the spotlight.

It scares me.

It scares me to be vulnerable, let all of my faults lay out on the table like playing cards. To take the risk without the protection, to gamble everything I’ve built up away just like that. But you…

You.

You make me feel safe. You make me feel as if I don’t need to hide anything. I can give you the key to my heart and you would have no malicious intent. You wouldn’t cut out the parts people don’t like. You would enjoy the performance in full, every bit of it.

You make me believe that I’m nothing special, and yet something so valuable at the same time.

It’s silly. You’re silly. And yet that’s something that’s helped me.

It’s helped me realize that that truly is just how people are.

We aren’t villains. We aren’t antagonists. We aren’t monsters.

We are nothing but people, with faults and feelings that should be valued.

I am more than just a jester, a sake of entertainment.

I’m a person who is entirely worthy of love. All of me.

It reminds me that I must’ve came here for a reason.

Because this is where I belong.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Killua and the Power of Wishes

Okay going to try and make this coherent because the amount of wish association all through Killua's character development makes me want to chew plaster.

As a fair warning, this analysis ended up being long as hell, and I didn't even include everything I could've said. This is also just one lens to analyze Killua's story arc with, and I feel there are other valid interpretations of some of these moments. This is just one of mine, so keep that in mind please.

One last warning that this analysis does discuss emotional manipulation and abuse, as is par for Killua's background.

Let's set the stage with one important piece of info: Killua's birthday.

Killua's birthday is July 7th, the same day as Tanabata. Tanabata is a folklore-rich festival where according to legend, the two lovers, weaver Orihime and cowherd Hikoboshi, represented by the two stars, Vega and Altair, are allowed to reunite once a year after separation. A popular custom of Tanabata is to make wishes by writing them down on tanzaku, then hang it on a bamboo tree so that the wish might one day come true.

Tanabata is also known as the Star Festival. Please keep this in mind, because I'm going to come back to it.

To finish setting up the lens for this analysis, I'm going to need to dig into the game-changer scene for Killua's early characterization - his confrontation with Illumi at the end of the Hunter Exam, and specifically, the exact nature of Illumi's manipulation of him.

I say "game-changer" because it really is - up until this point, it's kind of fair to not fully know what to think about Killua. Certainly, he seems excited to hang out with Gon (he approached him first, after all) and he's friendly enough, but he's also arrogant and claims to be motivated mainly by boredom. For all intents and purposes, Killua seems set up to be Gon's dangerous yet charismatic rival... but then this scene happens and it completely turns it all on its head.

Because Killua may have mentioned his family was controlling before, but he seriously downplayed the severity of it - likely because he has no point of reference for how awful his situation actually is other than it makes him feel bad and trapped. Illumi's appearance immediately shifts our understanding of Killua from runaway murder kid with annoying murder family to straight-up victim of emotional abuse, and dissolves his cockiness instantly to terror.

What does all this have to do with wishes? Glad you asked. Let's look at some of Illumi's dialogue.

[ID: A screenshot from HxH episode 20 of the 2011 anime. Killua looks up, sweating and conflicted, as Illumi tells him "You don't want anything or wish for anything." End ID.]

This is the crux of Illumi's (and the family's) control. Killua's desires do not align with the family trade. They must be excised from him.

When Killua insists that he does have something that he really wants, Illumi says "Tell me what it is you want", in a mockery of a certain other sibling who would have helped fulfill this wish - Illumi asks only so he can completely dismantle it. And Killua isn't even really surprised at Illumi's words, just heartbroken. You can tell this isn't the first time this sort of thing has happened.

Killua states his wish quite fervently; he really means it. But his words are not rebellious, nor cathartic. Instead, he answers Illumi quietly, as if fearful or ashamed, almost reminiscent of a sinner's confession.

[ID: Two screenshots from HxH episode 20 of the 2011 anime. In the first Killua looks down with a troubled expression, saying "I want to become friends with Gon...". In the second, his face is hidden as he stands with hands clenched at his sides with a spotlight on him. He says "I'm sick of killing people..." End ID.]

It's such an innocent, simple want.

And Illumi proceeds to make him feel like even something so simple is harmful and selfish of him... not to the family, but to Gon.

In a matter of a few minutes, Illumi breaks down Killua's wish by:

Acknowledging this desire, but twisting it into something that will inevitably fade over time, thereby causing Killua to doubt his own conviction and feelings -> "Gon is a novelty, a radiant presence who has piqued your curiosity. No more than that."

Acknowledging that Gon is someone important to Killua, and undermining this by telling him that by his very nature, he will eventually bring harm to Gon, which makes him feel as though Killua cannot trust himself to be a good friend -> "If you try to be friends with him, you will one day want to kill him... because you are, by nature, a murderer." (As a... delightful... bonus, this is also apparently how Silva and Illumi justify their treatment of Killua to him - "This is the essence of your existence and we taught you accordingly." Like they adapted to Killua's nature, instead of them molding Killua into who they wanted him to be.)

Delivering an ultimatum - to fight Illumi and win, or else Gon will die - that Killua is doomed to fail due to his upbringing and the needle in his head. Since Killua doesn't know about the needle, he assumes this is his own personal failure, something Illumi feeds into -> "You're just not qualified to make friends."

And it's the last point that breaks him. The first two shoot down Killua's present wish, but the last proceeds to shatter any hope he might've had of wishing for anything similar in the future - he has told him that his desires are weak, temporary, inherently dangerous to those around him, and worst of all, aren't enough on their own for him to deserve friendship and love from others. And the clincher: Killua feels like all of this is his own fault, that there is something inherently dangerous and wrong with him!

So, it doesn't even matter to Killua anymore if he fails the Hunter Exam. To him, he just failed the only test that mattered.

10/10 manipulation, Illumi. Fuck you, seriously.

Killua's character arc is mainly his quest and struggle to refute Illumi's arguments and to shake off the manipulation and the ways in which his family have molded and controlled him. And by far, the most difficult part of his conditioning to shake off is this idea that he is undeserving of anything more than what he is already given.

It's almost like the family has drilled it into him that wishes are dangerous. How interesting.

Thankfully, however, there are two parties to Killua's wish here - Gon, too, is a part of it, and it is not simply his reciprocated desire to be Killua's friend that saves him, but also his recognition of Killua's situation for what it is (notably, when no one else correctly identified the true issue).

"You know it wasn't his choice. You manipulated him, kidnapping his spirit!"

The ensuing Zoldyck family arc emphasizes that Gon is 100% correct: the main hold Killua's family has on him isn't physical - it's all emotional.

Killua breaks one of his shackles when Milluki threatens to have his new friends killed, but he only breaks the rest when Zeno tells him he's free to go. So, if Killua could break loose at any point, was this still a rescue like Gon said?

Well, yes - just because he absolutely could've broken out physically at any time, that does not mean he could just leave. That's the nature of situations such as this - it's not as simple as "just leaving". Support is necessary, as is actually having something tangible outside the situation to go to - otherwise there is little point to leaving at all. Gon (and Kurapika and Leorio) showing up to free Killua showed him that his wish was reciprocated and allowed him to break one cuff - this is the start of his journey, but he still has a long ways to go. Notably, he again hesitates and closes off when Silva asks what he wants.

[ID: Three panels from HxH chapter 42. In the first, Silva asks Killua "...would you like to see [Gon]?" Killua's expression is complicated in the next panel - he's closed off and uncertain. Silva continues "Be honest, Kil... what do you want?" End ID.]

Killua will backtalk and casually break his shackles and death glare his family... but he's too fearful to voice his wants aloud.

And once again, asked by his father what he wants, he is subtly set up to fail. His wish is granted, but made conditional - "Do not betray your friends", something Killua is regrettably set up to do by virtue of the needle in his head that he, again, doesn't know about. Silva fully expects him to fail and come back home, disillusioned, believing it's his own fault due to his "nature", and trusting in Silva still as a "reasonable" figure in his life.

This condition placed on his friendship is what drives much of Killua's fear and insecurity with regards to Gon for much of the series - the idea that Killua has to earn his right to friendship, and that if he doesn't, he will lose it, one way or another.

It really makes me wish that Killua had actually gotten to hear Gon's views on friendship from the beginning of the Zoldyck Family arc, because it entirely refutes this entire philosophy. He even outright refuses to go through the Testing Gates at first, purely because he thinks the sentiment of needing to prove yourself just to be friends is completely outrageous - he only relents because there is no other way.

[ID: Two screenshots from episodes 21 and 22 of the 2011 HxH anime adaptation. Gon looks up at Illumi and firmly states "[Killua] doesn't need to earn the right to be my friend!" In the second, Gon's face is seen in profile and close up as he asks "Why would you test your friends?" End ID.]

I doubt it would've truly prevented Killua's insecurity from manifesting even if he had heard this, to be honest - his issues with usefulness are very deep-rooted in his upbringing - but still, it would've been nice for him to hear, I think.

However, that's not to say that this exact sentiment doesn't come through in their interactions.

Gon, as Killua's friend, cares about what Killua actually wants and wants to make sure Killua knows that - and that's part of what makes the Whale Island conversation between them really important.

[ID: Two images, both of the same scene from HxH chapter 64, and episode 37 of the 2011 anime. In the manga panel, Gon has turned his head to look at Killua directly, who looks shocked and taken aback, to say "I like hanging out with you." In the anime screenshot, Gon has turned his whole body to face Killua, and says "I think it's fun to be with you." End ID.]

I see a lot of people chalk this up to just Gon being Gon, but it reads to me as much more deliberate than even his usual honesty. He's turned so he's looking directly at Killua, which is a sure way to make his words come across clearly. The lead up to this is Killua, again, not knowing or being able to vocalize what he wants. He doesn't have a goal to work towards like Gon, he only knows what he doesn't want - he's a mix of envious and admiring towards Gon, who knows what he wants and simply goes for it.

But this conversation makes it clear that they have a shared wish - they both want to be friends, and they'd both like to stay together. It's not about earning, to Gon, it's only about if they both want the same thing - mutual, not conditional. There's a nice almost call-and-response type dialogue here, where Gon asserts that he likes spending time with Killua (very directly lol), then shares that Killua is the first friend his age he's had. This prompts Killua to say that Gon is his first friend ever, and that he does have fun with him. And just like that, Gon replies "Then let's stay together!" and pointedly includes Killua's desire to find a goal in their, now shared, upcoming journey.

Overhead, a shooting star appears in the sky. A mutual wish is granted.

[ID: A panel from HxH chapter 64. The night sky is full of stars. In the centre is a shooting star. End ID.]

Hm. Stars. Remember how I told you to keep that in mind, all the way back at the beginning? Their association with Tanabata, making a wish on a shooting star, etc. etc.?

Well, buckle up because this star is going to make you experience so much sadness now.

[ID: Panels from HxH chapter 286. The first is a conversation between Killua and Meleoron where Killua asserts he intends to "go down in flames with [Gon]". When Meleoron looks concerned, Killua brushes off the declaration as a joke. In the second image, Killua is turned away, his outline pale, as Meleoron thinks "Why... did you looks so sad... back there?" The last image is a cloudy night sky filled with stars. At the centre of the panel is a shooting star. End ID.]

Yeah, it makes its reappearance directly after Killua has "jokingly" resolved to die with Gon if it comes down to it, after "since it means nothing to you".

I am assured, in Japanese, the word choice here is 心中 (shinjuu), the word for double suicide, where the intent is to die at the same time in the same manner in order to be reunited in the afterlife. The implication here is that Killua, having increasingly grown insecure in his place by Gon's side but unable to voice this, knowing that Gon is hurtling down the path of no return, thinks back to their conversation under the stars where they both mutually wished to stay together and, because he believes that it is no longer possible for him to help Gon, has resolved to stay by his side in death, and after it.

...holy shit, kid.

[ID: Two screenshots from the 4th ending of the 2011 anime. In the first, Gon and Killua stand back to back as meteors fall around them. In the second, they stand facing away from the audience towards a body of water under a night sky filled with stars - Gon throws a stone, which flashes in the air like a shooting star. End ID.]

And of course, here's the shooting star again in the 2011 anime's Nagareboshi Kirari ending, as well as it being the subject of the song itself and rather explicitly referencing that wish to go on a journey together, to stay together, because... Madhouse hates us. I guess. :'(

What started off as a simple wish for a friend deepened into a wish to always stay by Gon's side. This is largely good at first! Killua is able to explore and experience genuine friendship, to get a taste for freedom, and use the power of his fervent wish to protect his dear friend in order to rid himself of Illumi's needle. However, the more Killua wants, the more he traps these wishes in monologues within his own head and does not voice them aloud. Part of it is that he already feels he's been given much more than he deserves - seeing himself as a creature of darkness and Gon as light - but a greater part of the issue here is not that Killua is afraid to wish for things, but that he is afraid wishing without "compensation" will inevitably lead to horrible repercussions - namely, losing who he loves.

In order to feel worthy of staying with Gon, of earning his friendship, Killua works hard to help Gon achieve his goals, taking on the role of wish grantor, growing to do practically anything needed to support him for seemingly nothing in return - but that's not 100% true. Killua wants at least some appreciation, whether he admits it or not - it's a security thing, and it also clearly makes him happy, even if he's not great at accepting it. He insists in Chimera Ant arc that friends don't need to thank friends, but this declaration always read as very sudden to me or like a rationalization, and it's relevant to remember that this is at the peak of Gon isolating himself and self-destructing before his eyes, and Killua's own insecurity regarding his importance to him.

Killua might not mind doing things without thanks, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like to hear that Gon appreciates him. He clearly does appreciate verbal confirmation of their bond! We know this.

[ID: Two screenshots from the 2011 anime. The first is from episode 61. Killua smiles down at the ground with his hands in his pockets, the colours having gone soft and bright. The second is from episode 70 during the dodgeball match. Gon smiles determinedly in the foreground as Killua looks shocked next to him. End ID.]

Keeping all this in mind, Killua's story, or at least this part of it, couldn't have concluded in a better way than his rescue of Alluka, the wish grantor.

Now, I could probably write an entire other analysis on Alluka and Nanika alone, but for the sake of not making this any longer than I already have, I'm going to go through only a few points. Alluka is incomprehensible to her family because they make no attempt to understand her, with the exception of Killua. The only thing they do seem to understand, when explained to them, is the demands made after Nanika grants a wish - this, of course, fits neatly into their own predetermined views on "earning" and "punishment". However, beyond this, they make no attempt to understand her, and since her power is deemed dangerous and uncontrollable, she is locked away.

They are worried, first and foremost, that Alluka will bring harm to the family, and there's two ways in which this could be true:

As a function of failing to fulfill her requests, of course

Because she, just by existing, threatens the family's status quo

I stated at the beginning that Killua's desires do not align with those of the family business, and he's always apparently been more open to understanding others - he asks Alluka and Nanika questions to understand them, and treats them with respect, while his family are more so focused on subjugating anything that might be a threat. This is what Illumi tried to drill into Killua after all; never fight a superior opponent - everything is about assessments of relative strength, which leaves no room for open-mindedness or getting to know people.

Faced with a daughter who is clearly incomprehensibly powerful, and a son, the would-be inheritor of the family trade, who is showing a disturbing amount of willingness to befriend instead of retreat from her, the family made the decision to excise Alluka not just from where she could "harm" the family power-wise, but also likely to secure their control over Killua, who they then set about practically programming to not have any more wishes for himself, or at least to not be able to vocalize them without fear of loss or retribution.

The family's nickname for Killua is "Kil" or "Killu", which is deeply fascinating to me as a reader - nicknames are expressions of endearment, typically, and I actually don't doubt that here. Killua's family does love him, but their love comes with conditions. He must be molded into the perfect son, and every part of him that doesn't fit must be excised.

So: Killua's memories of Alluka are suppressed with the needle, and she is further cut from his life by dropping the "a" from his name (the Zoldyck children are named like a game of shiratori - Illumi -> Milluki -> Killua -> Alluka -> Kalluto). The nickname is also like a command or order "to kill", which is of course what they want him to do.

Saving Gon through saving Alluka and Nanika forces Killua to have to face down the last and hardest of Illumi's manipulations to shake, and that's the notion that a wish, that kindness and friendship and love, cannot be unconditional without severe repercussions - where the people he cares about get hurt because of him, something he cannot envision being forgiven for.

It's a little sad to me that after spending most of the series struggling against his family's teachings that they didn't lead to Killua betraying Gon at all, as he'd feared... but to him betraying Nanika, by sending her away.

Here is this little girl with a bloodstained past, incredibly powerful and dangerous and capable of amazing feats, treated as some evil thing by those who fear her. But she is kind at heart. Her true strength lies in healing, not killing. And she only takes commands from Killua.

Illumi thinks this is because Killua is the only one with control over her. Killua believes this is because she wants praise. They're both partially correct, but this is not the full reason Nanika does what Killua asks of her.

[ID: Two screenshots from episode 146 of the 2011 anime. In the first, Nanika smiles and says "I love Killua." In the second, Killua looks at her, stricken. End ID.]

Nanika loves him. Everyone has been trying to figure out all these complicated rules and conditions on her wish granting and why Killua is the one exception, but the answer is exceedingly simple. She loves him, and wants to do nice things for him so he can have his wishes granted. It's the only way she knows to get the love that she wants in turn.

Just like her brother, Nanika makes herself useful to earn love and appreciation from someone who accepted her when no one else did.

Even though he knows Nanika just wants to help, he still sees her presence as a danger to the person he sees as pure and innocent who must be protected. He sends her away because her "nature" is to be a threat to Alluka's safety, even if she doesn't intend to be. Killua's fear of Illumi and repercussions causes him to make a horrible mistake.

And Alluka tears into him for it.

[ID: A set of panels from HxH chapter 336. A furious Alluka glares and asks Killua if he made Nanika cry. When Killua stutters, she demands he apologize to her. End ID.]

You tell him, girl.

Oh hey, this looks a little familiar, huh?

"Apologize to Killua!" says Gon to Illumi after Illumi sends Killua away.

Nanika should not be the one punished for the actions of those trying to control her. She certainly shouldn't be forced to leave those she loves, or have to earn love from them.

And neither should Killua.

[ID: Three panels from HxH chapter 336. Alluka yells, tears in her eyes, "If you're going to protect me... you have to protect Nanika too!!" Killua looks shocked, then his eyes widen. End ID.]

It's interesting to me that this is the line that snaps Killua out of his fear enough for him to properly speak with Nanika and apologize. One party cannot receive all the protection, nor can the other only give and give limitlessly.

Killua makes it clear to Nanika when speaking with her that he will protect her, and that she doesn't need to earn affection from people by granting their wishes. He promises they will both be there for each other - Killua will praise her whenever she wants, and not just when she does something for him, but he also doesn't refuse Nanika's desire to grant his wishes. It's mutual, not conditional.

And on the heels of this "betrayal", Killua asks for what he never thought he could receive - forgiveness. And even though Nanika is clearly still very upset...

[ID: Two screenshots from episode 146. In the first, Nanika and Killua face each other, both of them teary. Nanika says "Kay." In the second, he has pulled her into a hug. Nanika is teary, her fingers gripping Killua's back tightly. End ID.]

...she doesn't even have to think about it.

I do think Killua still has a ways to go, but he is in a position right now to learn from his relationship with his sisters about balance - that love is not just selfless devotion, but also allowing those who love you to help you and make you happy too. I think that's what unconditional love is, in a way - supporting and working together with the people you love to make each other's wishes come true.

[musingsofanaroace]

Coming Out as AroAce-Things People Say

Here's a list of things people have said to me when I came out as AroAce to them.

It's just a phase.

I can fix you.

Doctor House cured someone who thought they were asexual. Perhaps you just need to see a doctor.

Maybe you just haven't met the right person yet.

Don't worry, you're still young. When you get older, you'll change your mind. (Note: I was twenty-five!)

You just made up this sexual orientation because you want to feel special.

You'll be alone forever.

I'm sure you'll find someone. Don't give up hope!

What do you mean you don't feel sexual and romantic attraction? Everyone does. Maybe there's something wrong with you that a doctor can fix.

Does that mean you want to become a nun?

That's not a real thing. Surely, you're making that up.

How sad. You're so pretty! Is there a cure?

I'll pray for you. I'm sure Jesus can set you on the path of righteousness and make you whole once more. My church meets on Saturdays. Do you want to go with me? The pastor is the kindest soul you could ever meet. I'm sure he could help you.

Oh, you're just scared to date someone. You know, I have a friend who's really nice. Do you want his number?

Are you sure you're not just a lesbian?

What's that? It sounds like the name of a stripper club.

Perhaps if you wore makeup and grew out your hair, you could get a boyfriend. No problem.

How interesting! I never heard of such a thing before. Huh...You learn something new everyday.

That makes sense.

AroAce? What's that? Is it contagious?

That's cool. Do you AroAce people have your own flag? (Blank stare from me.) Sorry, I just really love flags. (I show him the flag.) Wow! It reminds me of the beach.

A isn't for ally? Are you sure? I read on a forum a while back that the A stood for ally. Maybe you got your facts mixed up.

Don't be silly. There's no such thing as an AroAce. Stop making things up!

sister's boyfriend: You're f-- delusional! AroAce isn't a thing. You just can't accept the fact that no one wants to date a psychotic b--. You don't stand a f-- chance of getting a boyfriend until you get some psychiatric help first. (Note: Fortunate for him, I kept my cool and didn't push him down the stairs.)

Well, that's all I remember/have written down. Until next time, take care and stay curious.

[sparklings-bf]

5 years !!!

me and baldi's anniversary <33<3

(beware. long personal gush under cut)

pouring my heart out into this one. i am Sorry

today marks 5 years since the day i started shipping with baldi for the first time<3

i'm surprised that after so long I'm still very in love with him but I could not be happier about it. to think that it all started out as a silly thing among my friends where i was joking about him being my husband to considering him an actual serious f/o is so weird to think about. i remember being like 13 and not understanding Why i felt like this about a fictional character, i didn't even know self shipping was a thing

and it took. Years. for me to finally make sense of it all. i think a few months after i was in love with him was when i found the selfship community here on tumblr and then i considered baldi to be my first f/o ever, though i was never 100% open about self shipping until years later.

even today baldi is one of the characters that changed my life the most, i can't even explain how much he's helped me become better. he's gotten me through all the good, the bad, the times other people let me down. he was There for me. and i am so grateful. because of him i feel like i can just be myself and don't need to put on an act for other people, i don't need to hide how i feel.

i can definitely say that baldi will always be a part of me. even if my feelings fade, or i stop fixating on him, or anything like that happens. i've had many good memories when growing up with him that i can never forget about. like honestly he is a part of Me as a person at this point. he's inspired me to become better. and despite him being fictional he's really improved my life so much.

i love you so so so much baldi <33<3 and i mean it when i say forever, i hope we'll be with eachother for more years to come. thank you for everything!! <3

[flight0fthenavigat0r]

A Goodbye to The Bad Batch

I don’t even know what to say first. Because this is goodbye, but it is also everything but. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.

Just a couple of years ago I found my love for Star Wars. My entire life, as far back as I can remember, my dad has tried to get me into the fandom. Now, he’s not a fan the exact same way some of us are, he’d only watched the saga and the Mandalorian, funnily enough I was the one to introduce him to The Clone Wars and beyond, but it’s been a joy in his life for a very long time. I was never interested in it when I was little, but then I got a little older and Star Wars started to capture my interest.

One random weekend, I believe in 2021 or 2022, I decided that I was going to watch all nine saga movies in those forty-eight hours, and then start on my goal to watch every show and the additional movies.

This is, without a shred of doubt, one of the greatest decisions I have ever made, and one that I will never regret. I would not be the person I am had I not given Star Wars a chance.

It would sound ridiculous to anyone anywhere else, but this has become such a safe place for me that I know I can be honest.

Everyone finds that one thing that makes them happy like nothing else. A person, a hobby, a place, a fandom. Mine is the galaxy far, far away that lets me escape from my life whenever I need to.

The Star Wars fandom has its faults, and there is so much hatred.

But more than anything, there is love like no love I have ever experienced before. The love between fans and our love for these movies and shows is something I never expected to have in my life. But somehow, for some reason, it has all found a permanent place in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.

At this time, the first season of The Bad Batch had just been released. I was branching out, watching The Clone Wars and then jumping to The Book of Boba Fett, though I’m not sure why I chose to watch everything in such a completely random order.

But then I started The Bad Batch.

I had no idea what Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, and Omega would come to mean to me.

I have dealt with a lot in the last few years. Nothing compared to others, but depression finds a way to wedge into your life. I love to be alone, but I don’t like to be lonely, and I have managed to isolate myself to a point of misery.

I found more comfort in The Bad Batch than anything else in my life, and I will never forget the joy The Bad Batch brought me in these last few years.

I began to write when I found Star Wars, and I was inspired to do so by The Bad Batch. Before, I had never felt so compelled by any one piece of media to add my own part of it to the world, until this. Writing has become another escape, one that gives me an outlet to continue the stories of characters left behind.

What I already knew has been reaffirmed, the lessons I have learned remain with me, and will even after this is over.

That it’s okay to feel afraid, because everyone does, and to make mistakes, provided you learn from them.

That feeling out of place for one reason or another does not make you unworthy of love, and having limitations with affection isn’t something you need to apologize for.

That being goofy, having fun, finding joy in the dark places, is just as vital a part of life as anything else, if not what we need more than anything.

That taking time for yourself, to make sure you don’t fall apart, even while taking care of others, is important.

That our worst moments can be one of two things, what consumes us, or what we grow from.

That being a young woman is not a detriment to your worth, intelligence, talent, or any other aspect of life, but is in fact what makes you strongest.

That what makes us unique and our faults are a part of who we are, but they do not define us, and we are so much more than the ideas people have of us.

My only regret is not making friends when I had the chance. I’m bad at that, opening up and putting myself out there, and I shy away from talking to new people because it makes me uncomfortable. But I wish I had been able to put that aside before it was too late and found people who love The Bad Batch the way I do to continue talking to, even after the show ends.

But to all the people who have supported me and who I have supported, thank you for being part of my Bad Batch experience.

It's very difficult to believe that this is it.

Though The Bad Batch has not been around long, it feels like it has, because as long as I have been watching Star Wars, The Bad Batch has been in its active run, and I’m so grateful I got to be here when it was.

I know that even when the credits roll for the final time, when the greater fandom forgets the show that they never really understood the way we have, I’ll be here, and hopefully, so will all of you. I think that the family brought together by The Bad Batch will endure, even if we go quiet for a while.

We’ll stick around, for the day the Batch comes back. Because I know they will.

Thank you Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch fandom, Dee Bradley Baker, Michelle Ang, the Kiners, and everybody who played a part in telling this story.

The impact The Bad Batch has had on my life has been profound, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s been a wild ride, and I have enjoyed every second of it. It has been a privilege to be a part of this piece in the ever growing history that makes up Star Wars.

Goodbye, Bad Batch. Until next time.

“Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.”

[yoursweetwife]

hii haha i dont see a lot of topaz x reader so im gona req one hehe so you know the trope where like (character) introduces their pet to their s/o and the pet likes the s/o more than (character)? i wanna see how topaz would react if numby would rather chill with reader more than topaz, if u dont wanna write this then its okay have a nice rest of your day! :D

warnings: female reader (but no pronouns are used), reader hips, jealous Topaz, Topaz needs a hug

p.s sorry if this is not what you wanted, but as soon as I saw your request, I immediately thought of jealous Topaz

Right now, Topaz was dismayed by the sight in front of her.

She witnessed how Numby lay on your thighs and rubbed against them as if it was the best pillow of his life (in fact, it was true).

Your fingers ran over the piggy's smooth skin, stroking him in every accessible place and cooing sweetly at his every joyful squeal. But once upon a time it was Topaz herself.

She's actually very happy that you two have become friends. Even at the first meeting, Numby began to feel a strange attachment to you. He tried to climb into your arms when they met him, squeaked happily and jumped, which was quite surprising, because it took him time even to let himself be petted. And you never missed a chance to play with Numby.

Despite your work, you remained a good person, and that's what attracted Topaz to you.

And she is glad to have such a wonderful lover, but now she constantly has the feeling that she no longer lives in this house.

But Topaz is partly to blame for not intervening. And she can’t even figure out who she envies more.

"Who's the good piggy here? It's Numby!"

You laughed quietly at the excited sounds Numby was making. It was very difficult to resist his charms.

"Agree Topaz. Topaz?"

She continued to look at you through her eyelashes, resting his cheek with one hand and frowning slightly. You looked at woman worriedly and called her name again.

Your voice seemed to bring her out of some kind of trance.

Topaz shook her head and gasped at the realization that you were calling her.

“Haha, sorry, I was lost in thought. Did you want something?”

She rubbed the back of her head and focused all her attention on you. You couldn’t help but notice the slight sadness in her voice, and even Numby stopped playing and began to pay attention to the conversation.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, eh...I"

Topaz couldn't find the words? If anyone had told her that, you and she would have laughed about it. You noticed how her gaze ran over Nambi lying on your lap, and without thinking twice you put two and two together. Oh, who would have thought...

"Topaz, are you...jealous?"

After your words, an expression of shock appeared on the girl’s face. white-haired woman began to actively shake her head, fervently denying your words.

"No no! Well maybe a little... But I like watching you and Nambi have fun, I really do."

You immediately realized that Topaz had received almost no affection lately. A guilty expression appeared on your face.

Numby looked at you and seemed to understand what you were thinking.

You and Nambi “looked at each other” and a smile immediately appeared on your face, while the piglet stomped around impatiently. Topaz did not have time to react when at the one moment two bodies knocked her down, pinning her to the sofa.

She felt your warm breath on her neck, tickling her skin, one of her hands held your waist while the other stroked Numby, who settled comfortably on her stomach.

A heartfelt, loud laugh burst from her chest, making you laugh along with her.

"What is this for?"

Topaz asked, stopping laughing. You moved closer to her face and quickly kissed her lips, a light blush appearing on her pale cheeks.

"doesn't matter."

[redrum-alice]

ABA x Paracelsus HCs that live in my mind rent-free, even though I haven't played the game--

Some of these HCs include other characters involved in their arcade mode.

ABA is no stranger to stalking people. So when she came across a lookout point, she saw many couples, mostly teenagers, making out and going on romantic dates. She wonders what it would feel like to be young and in love, rather than just declaring someone whom she met first glance as a "husband"

ABA's collection of keys were hidden somewhere in the pocket dimension. She sometimes uses them as accessories to adorn herself, despite the like of knowledge in fashion (the girl wears pants as a top--)

There are many shades of blue that ABA can pick from. Since Paracelsus turned himself blue, the shiny surface reflected more colors than just blue, inspiring her to try and appreciate other colors near the blue gradient.

Added to the color stuff, she eventually tries variation of outfits with other colors, but with blue as the base.

Paracelsus knows when she's feeling fatigued. When she's at her limit, he opens the pocket dimension and lets her rest there until she wakes up. ABA sees this as his love language, but unintentional on his part

Both ABA and Paracelsus have no clue on how homonculi biology works, and Paracelsus hates to admit he feels bad that ABA may be at risk of getting herself hurt without him knowing what to do

Paracelsus wishes he knows more about human anatomy because its the closest one to ABA's physiology.

Since ABA is clairvoyant, she often hears the spirits of their victims which she tries to ignore, and probably because she doesnt know the correct response to a wailing dead person wanting justice. When its too much, she asks Paracelsus if what theyre doing was justified and that she begins to regret her rage filled jealousy directed at those that dont even bother them.

Paracelsus keeps telling ABA that she needn't to worry because it was a necessity for the both of them-- something he deeply regrets to say because he knows she has strong principles that she live by despite not being a human

Paracelsus, deep down, is ashamed of himself for tainting ABA for the purpose of tending to his bloodlust. He saw how genuine and pure hearted she is, but it turned into malice because of his demonic origin. He begins to wonder what ABA would be like if she found someone else years ago.

Just like ABA, Paracelsus has an unspoken fear of abandonment, but since he lacks capacity to feel other emotions, he doesnt notice this.

Ever since Elphelt and Testament approached her with good intentions, ABA wanted to make more friends like them, but is scared that others have ill intentions toward her and Paracelsus.

ABA's favorite book would be Alice in Wonderland when she was still in Frasco, specifically the part where Alice was trapped in a room or multiple doors with the smallest door being the exit. ABA admires this because of the concept of escaping, especially that there's a key involved. (Im biased bc my name's Alice and i like this story--)

Besides door keys, she also collects windup key and smaller keys for chests and compartments. She sees this as a symbol for discovering new things, especially music when she came across a music box that needed a key

Speaking of music boxes, she associates this object with Elphelt bc of her musical talent (and that she may as well look like the ballerina spinning on the music box)

Other than doors, music boxes, and compartments, she also came across a small doll that needed a key. After she winds it up, it began walking and talking towards her and freaks her out. But when it said "mama" in a robotic voice, ABA contemplates and wonders if she was ready to become a parent somewhere in the near future when Paracelsus has a body. An impossible thought, but one could never be sure, and it scares her.

Butterfly Pea tea with brown sugar, or sparkling butterfly pea lemonade with honey would probably her favorite drink because of its color. She shares this with her hubby 🥰😋

There comes a time that her bandanges would get uncomfortable and smell bad from blood stains and wounds, so Paracelsus tells her she needs to change them before she gets an infection. He does stop her midway because he realizes she isnt wearing any undergarments and proceeds to take her in the pocket dimension.

Elphelt offers ABA to shop with her to pick clothes suited for her. The first thing she sees at the boutique display was a wedding dress and begins to day dream a wedding with Paracelsus. Without her looking, Elphelt happily buys the wedding dress with matching tuxedo and gives it to ABA, despite Paracelsus' protests (the fact that he hears them chatting about setting up the wedding next day had him ded on the spot :P)

ABA watches home video tapes left in houses unoccupied by their owners (abandoned or they went on vacation; ABA is a home intruder lol). She finds a tape labeled "Happy Day" and it plays a recording of a newly wed couple dancing at their reception. The way the couple moved gracefully tickled an idea in her brain and insisted she and Paracelsus should dance. But since the large key doesnt have any legs, her attempts in waltzing with him went nowhere 😅 (and this gave more reason for ABA to find a body for Paracelsus)

At late nights when ABA is asleep, Paracelsus wonders that if he had a body, would ABA still be shorter or they would be in the same height? Either way, he was impressed that she can keep herself up with that low weight despite her tall stature, more so on how she was able to carry him around without much muscle mass.

When he sleeps beside her, her hair unwittingly falls on his bow and feels how soft it is. A very pleasant feeling he won't admit.

Everyday, Paracelsus keeps reminding ABA that she needed to eat to gather strength. ABA often forgets to eat because its not hard wired in hr system, nor that it was even natural for her to eat in the first place.

[youcouldmakealife]

KS Fill: Tonya/Vladimir Petrov, Thomas/Anton; castle in the clouds

Another of the Kickstarter fills, for the prompt: always happy for a Vinny/Tony update, especially if Tonya is involved

Even as a child, at her most idealistic, Tonya certainly never expected to live in a mansion like this. A castle, maybe. She liked castles, though she’s not sure where she expected to find one in Brooklyn. Though, it’s not like mansions were any more realistic, growing up in New York City.

And they wouldn’t live in one if they lived in New York, but in Hartford, it was barely even a splurge. And Vladimir had dreamed of castles too as a boy, wanted Antosha to live in one, or the nearest thing they could get for him. It’s massive, and impractical, and Tonya loves it.

They don’t take advantage of the benefits of it very often, however. Once, they let a production crew film the exterior while they were on vacation in Italy anyway — unfortunately, the film was terrible, so Tonya can’t rewatch it for the thrill of seeing it on screen. Or, she could, but she has to get through the melodrama and the bad acting first, and that’s a chore.

It’s the perfect place to host a party, specifically a party with gravitas — a gala, a ball. But with the exception of Vladimir’s induction in the Hall of Fame, they haven’t had any parties worth talking about, because Vladimir is…territorial, Tonya thinks the best word is. His house is his house — she’s still amazed he allowed the film crew, and is sure he wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been out of the country — and he’d prefer they didn’t have guests at all, with the exception of close friends, family. Even then, it’s only Anton who doesn’t get his hackles up after a few hours, and that might just be because he still considers it Antosha’s house too, even after all these years. Which, of course, it is.

But they’ve been married for thirty years now, and Tonya thinks that’s worth celebrating, and Vladimir agrees. He didn’t agree it merited a party on the scale of the one they’re throwing today, but he caved once Tonya assured him all he had to do was show up, and that the only guests staying overnight would be blood-related to them.

Well, and Thomas, but Vladimir’s fine with that. It seems like the exception for Anton applies to him as well. She doesn’t know if that’s because Vladimir considers him an extension of Anton, welcome wherever he is, or if he’s become family in his own right. She likes to think it’s a bit of both.

With an hour to go the place reminds her the castles she dreamt of, lit up and glittering, even if they're nothing alike. The catering staff have assured her they have everything they need, and after two minor wardrobe emergencies she’s finally finished getting ready. Or, she hasn’t, but the final touches must be done right before the guests arrive.

Vladimir’s ready, he’s assured her repeatedly, which she’s sure isn’t true, but he’s his own man. She hasn’t seen Anton since breakfast, which she finds ominous, though she doesn’t think he’d go far without Thomas, and he arrives in front of her almost as soon as she thinks of him. Such a good boy that she merely needs to think of him for him to arrive, offering help.

“Can I help with anything?” he asks, hands twisting fretfully, like it’s hurting him not to assist, and Tonya takes a moment to wonder if she's developed psychic abilities. Perhaps, but it's more likely that Thomas is just unfailingly helpful.

Tonya takes his hands between hers, stills them. They’re cold, and she wants to chafe them, warm him up. What was that saying, cold hands, warm heart? If anyone fits that it’s Thomas. “I’ve hired professionals to do everything,” she says. “We’ll just get in their way.”

She knows this because she has, at every other event with catering staff, gotten in the way. She’s finally learned her lesson — no meddling this time. So far she's stayed strong, but she's not sure she'll last the night.

“Right,” Thomas says, nodding, hands still between hers. “That makes sense. Our equipment managers say the same thing.”

She bets they do. Vladimir in particular was a menace about his equipment — she’s sure they popped a bottle of champagne the day he retired.

“I know what you can do for me,” she says, and Thomas brightens right up. He really is too good a boy for his own good. She imagines people take advantage of it all the time. Look at her, doing it right now.

“Can you find Anton for me?” she says. “I worry he’s hiding.”

She doesn’t worry he’s hiding, exactly — she knows he’s hiding — she only worries he’ll continue hiding after all the guests have arrived, leaving poor Thomas to muddle his way through a room of people he doesn’t know. Not that Antosha knows everyone, and many of the people he does know haven’t seen him since he was a little boy, so it’s really more them knowing him — she’s sure he’ll be delighted to hear ‘you were just this high when last I saw you’ over and over again.

Perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised he’s hiding. And she isn’t. But Thomas is a guest, though a particularly helpful, considerate one, and Anton may not be hosting the party, but he is hosting Thomas. And Tonya did not raise a bad host. Or, unfortunately she did, she thinks, but he certainly didn’t learn it from her. Thankfully Thomas is very easily pleased, and loyal enough that he’d likely tell her Anton was being an excellent host if she asked.

Thomas nods again, like a little bobblehead. She’s slightly disappointed the Canadiens haven’t done one for him, at least to her knowledge — she thinks Vladimir would be delighted to put it by the ones of him and Antosha in his show-off room. He loves them. Never tires of bobbing their heads. “Can I have my—“

“Your hands, of course,” Tonya says, letting them go. “Do you know the saying? About cold hands?”

“I do,” Thomas says, with a broad smile. She bets he does. Bets people quote it all the time. “Don’t worry, I’ll drag Anton out of wherever he’s hiding.”

“By the hair if you need to,” Tonya says, and smiles at the laugh that trails Thomas up the stairwell.

He doesn’t deserve that boy, Tonya thinks, then goes to bother Vladimir one last time. She hopes that, this time, he’ll actually get ready instead of just saying he already is. Perhaps that’s optimistic. But she thinks everyone needs a little optimism to make it to three decades.

“Tony,” she hears Thomas crooning as she walks down the hall, sounding a little like he’s trying to lure a feral cat, and she smiles wider. Perhaps he’s exactly what Antosha deserves after all.

[your-nanas-house]

Just acting... right?

◇ Pairing: Neil Lewis X Best Friend fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: filming, shitty acting skills, dry humping, Neil cumming in his pants, Y/n director, bit of shaming

◇ Summary: Neil needs some help for the sensual scene they need to record.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This isn't proof read.. like most of my works but 🤫 I'm tired. This is based on this BEAUTIFUL moodboard made by @darlingsfandom.

"Stop, Stop... Cut!" Y/n's disappointed voice interrupted Neil in the middle of his acting for a clip of the short movie they were recording to promote an event at Gumshoe Video.

That time the nerdy man had asked a little help from his best friend in hope to improve and give a kind of upgrade to the usual stuff.

The scene on the script, which was written by Neil himself, should have been a passionate and sensual one where the main character was having an intimate moment with a lover of his.

Due to the low budget there wasn't actually a second person there, not that they really needed it since that scene had the cameras all pointed at Neil's face, taking in his expression and the movements of his body.

So yeah... it should have been a sensual and sexy act that should have aroused and not disgusted or made the viewer worry of the main character conditions. "Dude... what was that? Are you okay?... it looked like you were having some kind of attack or about to throw up. Geez" the young woman confronted her best friend while staring at him with concern before rolling her eyes as soon as he went on the defensive

"Shush, no arguing with the director. You can't act this kind of scenes on your own, it's the forty-first try we make... I can't suffer this thing again. Sensual, sexy, you're having an orgasm... not dying by a bullet or due to poison" her harsh words slapped Neil right across his face, making him shut his mouth and follow her orders.

His best friend moved closer, fixing the camera again before meeting his gaze still lost in her thoughts.

They needed to find a solution to finally finish that short film.

"Okay... nerdy thing. Let's... Let's simply pretend shall we?" Y/n murmured with less confidence as she climbed on his lap and fixed the background which were the sheets of the bed and the pillows... there were also some rose petals because Neil had insisted.

Her eyes met carefully Neil's piercing light blue ones and she had to swallow the lump, that had formed in her throat, without stopping to fix the set to try for the forty-first attempt "And... action!" Y/n exclaimed as she focused the filming on her friend's freckled face, her hips casually grinding against his clothed crotch.

As the minutes passed and Neil said his lines, his expression started to become more genuine and real— expecially when his hips started to thrust up in seek of more friction. His slender fingers grabbed her hips, forcing her to grind harder on him while getting to the exact position the two characters should have been in the script.

A long whiny moan and his beautiful eyes were rolling back, his back arching softly and his swollen lips parting, as soon as his climax hit him like a train.

The scene was perfect, they didn't need to film it again, so Neil had all the time to change his cummed pants and underwear before recording the final parts of the script.

They were just acting, right?, Y/n asked herself as she glanced back at her best friend, still feeling the tension and butterflies in her stomach.

[waspredteeth]

I see a lot of confusion on why calling Damian Wayne "feral" is racist/problematic, so here's a rundown.

There's a difference between calling your child or your younger sibling "feral" and calling a character like Damian "feral." You know your child/sibling/niece/nephew etc. They're real people, and unless they have a problem with it personally, then there's nothing wrong with calling them feral as a joke. It doesn't (shouldn't) affect their perceptions by other people. It doesn't become a label that follows them.

Damian al Ghul-Wayne is a fictional character. A canonically mixed Arab/Chinese/Jewish White character with a history connected to some of the most prominent Arab comic book characters, who themselves also get insanely mischaracterized.

He's constantly whitewashed. He's been written with racist undertones (the suicide bomber vest). He's had his character development and progress backtracked time and time again by DC. DC treats him weirdly most days and completely shitty in the worst stories.

A good majority of fanon hasn't done any better than DC. You cannot pat yourselves on the back for being more inclusive or mental health aware than DC when you call a mixed Arab/Chinese boy "feral". It's constant. You can come up with various titles and nuances for every Bat-character, for every Robin.

Tim can be smart, a skater, a genius, the one holding everyone together, the little brother, the one who needs love. Jason can be cool, morally "right" or "wrong", unstable, PTSD-stricken, the one who was betrayed, the one with Shakespearean tragedies. Dick can be fun, happy, the first one, the prodigal son, the one with complicated history and the big brother.

You give them room for exploration. Love and care and attention and research. Many headcanons. You either comply with canon or you don't, but there's substance to their character.

What does Damian get? He's feral. He's rabid. He's a gremlin. He can't be reasoned with. He has no self-control, he's impulsive. He's hurt others, and you can't forgive it. Sometimes he's homophobic. Or classist. Or plain mean and rude to your favorite boy. He's always carrying a sword. A psychopath with no regard for another's well-being (usually Tim in a lot of fics). He can't be taught what's right.

I've seen people cry that Damian needs to punished or kicked out or treated the same way he's treated others. He needs to be brutalized or talked down to. He can never grow as a person, because he's mean to Tim or Jason, and you need him to exist as the abuser. His first move is always violent.

Fanon compares him to an animal often; he bites, claws, hisses, growls. Bruce or Dick or Jason or Tim have to wrangle him, tame him, civilize him the white man's way in lieu of his brown mother and grandfather who "clearly" raised him wrong. You don't see the issue with that? The issue with always labeling one of the few major brown characters in Batman comics as the unreasonable animal? That the child of color is always the abuser, the instigator, to older characters?

And even if you don't see him this way, you don't write him this way - then are you giving him the care and attention you give for other Bat characters?

Do you know anything else about him other than his "anger"? Because he isn't always angry. In fact, he's typically well-mannered. Quiet even, when he's not being provoked. DC's writing will always vary but whenever Damian lashes out, he's usually written with a reason to act the way he does.

Are you making him intelligent like he should be? A hard believer in redemption? A neglected and abused child who isn't meek or crying or closes himself within? Are you willing to explore that he's always exhibited the "wrong" kind of trauma responses - lashing out, being snippy, ruining relationships, refusing to admit weakness?

Do you write anything about him without making his mother and grandfather comically abusive and violent? Will you give him the supporting cast/friends he actually has? Can you write his dad/siblings interacting with him without making them white saviors or therapy pets? Can you write him without a ship or his love for animals or being vegetarian overshadowing everything?

Is he a character to you at all other than a glorified plot device with a sharp tongue and the convenience of being violent?