#that’s some genuine mood whiplash

[plagueofskeletons]

so I got to THAT part in trimax…….

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hi, your last post about reader not knowing that it was sa, I saw that and I wanted to request something. What if reader knows that she have been through it but she mentions this as a joke, she says it and just keep going like she said something silly. How would the boys (141 + konig) react?

(I do this sometimes and I don’t like it, but it feels like some kind of copying mechanism)

I’m sorry if this was too much, do not feel that u need to write this.

Anyway, thank u so much and take care

Honestly I make out of pocket jokes about my own trauma all the time, so I feel this

tw: mentions of trauma, brief mentions of sexual assault- nothing graphic or descriptive, humor as a coping mechanism, comfort

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Whiplashed so hard his neck is broken

“You bein’ serious?”

You explain what happened but you’re a little too blasé about it, he understands humor as a coping mechanism but this is a little serious

And by ‘a little’ I mean very

“Love, you can’t just drop a bomb like that.” He tries to soften his tone but his rage at what you’ve just told him is starting to seep through

He doesn’t realize he’s being a little hypocritical, we’ve all heard his “army humor” so he really doesn’t have a lot of room to talk. But the fact that it happened to you has blinded him to that fact. It’s not that you can’t make jokes, it’s that you shouldn’t have to because it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

He doesn’t even let you apologize before he’s pulling you into his arms, hands shaking, doing his best not to imagine what kind of sick fuck would do that to you

“Simon, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” His tone is firm and he’s refusing to let you go, so instead of arguing, you opted to melt into his embrace. Hands running up and down his back and as he’s kissing the crown of your head he’s wondering how worthwhile it’d be to give the fucker a visit. Maybe teach him a lesson or two.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

Laughing with your joke at first but then it hits him like a ton of bricks

“Beg your pardon?”

You explain the joke and the context with a dismissive laugh before going back to what you were doing and he’s just frozen in place

Someone… hurt you… in one of the most awful ways imaginable, and you’re laughing it off?

He’s not sure if he should be in awe at your resilience or concerned at your choice of coping mechanism, so he takes a gentle approach

“Bonnie, you know you can talk to me, aye?”

“I know, I just… don’t want to burden you with it. I mean, it’s not like it’s your fault it happened.” He’s holding your hands in his, gently massaging the space between your thumb and your index finger,

“Aye that’s true, but it’s you. And I love you, good and bad included.” He gently held the back of your head and kissed your forehead,

“Anytime you feel like talkin’ I’m here. Copy?”

He doesn’t usually bring work jargon home but he knows it gets a laugh from you, and sure enough your little giggle proved him right

“Copy.”

John Price:

The whiplash also broke his neck

“Sorry, what?”

His heart broke when you explained yourself and whined that the explanation ruined the punchline

“Sweetheart, that’s no laughin’ matter.” His tone was gentle as he approached you, hands hesitantly coming to rest on your hips, suddenly unsure of himself

“Honey, I’m fine. It’s how I cope.”

“I know, and there’s nothin’ wrong with that. Just, maybe, talk to me about it instead, yeah?” One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and you closed your eyes and leaned into the warmth of his palm, trapping it between your cheek and your shoulder

“I don’t wanna be a downer, John.”

“Never. I’m more concerned for your well-being than bloody mood. Am I clear?” As you looked in his eyes, you saw nothing but honesty and genuine concern, so you nodded

You closed your eyes and kissed his palm before he pulled you in to a tight embrace.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He heard you say it and weakly laughs before stopping as he chews on the words a little more

“Wait, what was that?”

And when you’re passively explaining it to him in the same way you’d talk about the weather he is in shock

He’s not sure if you’re trying to put on a brave face if you’re as nonchalant as you seem. He’s inclined to believe it’s the former.

“Babe that’s no joke. That’s kind of serious.”

“Don’t sweat it, Kyle. It’s how I’ve dealt with it. I’ve got it.”

He’s unsure but at the same time if it’s really worked for you so far then there’s no harm in letting it continue right? Wrong. He’s a little uncomfortable but it’s more so because it happened to you, someone he loves so deeply and he can’t fathom the idea

“Well yeah, I get that. But maybe we can talk about it when you feel like joking about it?” He shrugs, his words cautious and carefully chosen as he makes his suggestion

“I just want you to be alright. Ok?” His arms are rubbing yours before he’s pulling you into a hug, “I’ll always be here for you, babe.”

König:

Not a single chuckle from this man as he’s chewing over the words in his head

“Schatz, what’d you just say?”

When you explained what happened with a shrug and an all too casual tone, he’s tasting iron in his mouth from how hard he’s biting his cheek

He doesn’t want you to think he’s angry at you, never in a million years, but jesus christ schatz, surely there’s no way?

It’s not that he doesn’t believe you, he just can’t believe it happened to you, you’re the light of his life, his reason for existing, you’re the morning sun and the midnight moon, he’s truly in shock

“König?” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and in two short steps he was in front of you, sinking to his knees and hugging your middle. He’s buried his face in your shoulder as your arms wrap around his shoulders and you run your fingers through his hair.

“Liebling, please don’t make those jokes anymore, ok?” His voice is so small and fragile, you almost felt like it was a child talking instead of the 6’ something behemoth at your feet, “I can’t stand to hear that you’ve been hurt like that.”

“König it’s ok, really. Humor is how I cope.” You kiss the crown of his head and your chin against it,

“I know, liebling, I know but I’d much rather you talk to me ok? Please? For me?”

[yandere-romanticaa]

art credit. // I was greatly inspired by this post by the lovely @yanderenightmare so, I'd like to add my own little take on it, but only focusing on Dabi and Hawks because I'm just in that mood.

The good and bad cop routine is something which would take ages getting used to. The sheer amount of whiplash and pressure which is being put on you on a daily basis is too much, it's too fucking much and you have no time to process any of it as you are forced into this new life without any sort warning. On the few rare occasions in which you are graced with the rare bliss of solitude, you sit at your new home and just think. Ponder. Scheme. You allow the luxury of fantasy to take over your mind - you run out of the front door, barefoot, broken and scared. Bruises, cuts, burns and plenty of other injuries litter your body like a stained canvas, old and used. You could already feel the aching of your unused muscles as they would scream at you to stop, lungs heavy with the need to just breathe you but you cannot because if you do they would find you and drag you back however they damned pleased.

In this fantasy, you managed to escape. The soft green grass touched your toes, the warm sun felt hot but incredible against your tired skin. It felt as though it was giving you a Welcome back! greeting as you would make your way towards the train station, with nothing but a few bucks and some pathetic excuse of an outfit on you. You had nothing but you could manage. Anything was better than being forced back into that Hell.

You let out a long sigh as vivid imagery engulfed you, it felt so real. There you were, out of the country and lost to civilization somewhere far, far away. Grunt and manual labor would be beyond difficult to start with but it was the best possible option as it would give you little to no attention. Besides, it would take ages for your abused body to get used to it, which would probably dock your pay a little but you didn't mind. Oh how perfect of a life that would be, with no one around to bother you ever again. Perhaps in a few years if you felt like it, perhaps you could step foot in a crowd without the paranoid fear of someone peeling your skin off with white hot flames of fury and jealousy.

Dabi's touch became like a second nature to you and you hated it. Whenever he could he would grab you and just press you close to him, not caring at all about any personal space. He was tired and bored, behave and he'll be good to you, maybe. Keigo would proceed to reprimand him for his attitude but you knew damn well that he was no better than the villain.

He too would take you if he had the chance. Frankly, you were never sure what you were more keen on - Dabi's devilish honesty or Keigo's sweet suffocation. Neither option was good but Keigo felt like a lesser evil, something you could manage with a kind word or two.

You couldn't help but to grunt as your eyes fluttered open. Looking around, the apartment was still vacant. Damn it all, you couldn't even fantasize without even thinking of the two.

Oh how happy they would be if they knew that fact.

You could already hear Dabi's satisfied grunt as he pulled you close to his chest, his touch rough and unforgiving. That's right you should be thinking about him, you should be worried about what he might do to you because mercy is not in his vocabulary. Despite his constant teasing and bullying, Dabi was in no mood for games. Sure, he was a sadist who took genuine pleasure in watching you squirm and cry, particularly if it was caused by his hand. His awful burns would take forever to heal, he sometimes wouldn't even allow them to heal. That was his own personal way of claiming you, putting his own little stamp of ownership somewhere visible. As stated, mercy is not something he is familiar with.

A kinder touch is more up to Keigo's speed.

Despite the beautiful wings on his back, the man was no angel and he was not guiltless. He was just as bad as Dabi but his own obsession simply manifested in a completely different manner. Instead of hurting you, the pro hero preferred to be doting and kind. Oh how he ached to touch you but whenever you would flinch away hurt him so badly, but he never put the blame on you. Horrible, mean Dabi was the one who messed you up, which meant that it was Keigo's job to fix you. The blonde just loved to bathe you, his fingers gently massaging your scalp as the scent of shampoo would fill his nostrils, a scent he hand picked in hope that you would like it.

They took so much from you. He had to make it up somehow.

It was during these vulnerable moments where he tried to get you to open up to him. There were times when he managed to do just that and have a proper conversation with you. He stored those precious memories deep inside his heart and he would replay them constantly in his head as he was out on patrol.

He couldn't wait to get home. Did you start to see him as desirable? A person of safety? God he hoped so.

There was no way out of this arrangement he made with Dabi, there just wasn't. It was hard to manage but it had to be done. Keigo felt bitter about the fact that Dabi was the one who spent most of the day with you. Keigo was unfortunately tied down by his hero work and public duties, which meant that he had to be extra careful about his activities with you. He couldn't risk the public knowing about you, it was too dangerous.

As for Dabi, he danced on a strange line of being allowed to do whatever he wanted while also somehow being able to do nothing. On paper that makes no sense but Dabi is just that kind of guy. He can have you for himself for the whole entire day but if you were spotted with a nefarious criminal such as him, he would be in deep shit. He was skilled enough to take care of this whole ordeal but still.

The relationship you have with these two is rocky. It's like trying to pick a rose and trying to avoid the thorns, only to end up getting pricked by an even bigger thorn. No matter where you go, run or hide, they are always there. Not even your own mind was safe.

[kurokawaia]

❛ TOO POLITE ❜

Shinazugawa Sanemi X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.1k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; no triggers apart from sanemi being a lil mean >.<, reader is very polite and timid, she doesn't really understand the whole concept yk, she's like innocent.

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Could you please do sanemi with s/o where he tries to degrade her and stuff but shes SO polite and just says Like 'sorry' and 'thank you' and obeys every command without question with like EXTREME politeness that its just too difficult to degrade, and its so cute😭 Im curious to see how he'd react. - ANON

m.list | demon slayer m.list

Sanemi had forever been known for his whiplash tongue and his rough character, he had no time for dribble, no use for sissies, and most definitely did not have the time for anything that even smacked of being very soft and very cutesy, very demure, LMA- sorry in the remotest way.

And that was the major reason it dumbfounded him, completely and absolutely, to have ended up with you-a person so soft, so sweet, and endlessly, impeccably polite that he often wanted to bash his head against a wall. Almost.

It had been a very long day, and all he wanted right now was to come home, maybe blow off some steam, and just bag all the tension built up. You were there waiting as he walked through the door with that same soft smile that chipped away at his gruff exterior.

"Welcome home, Sanemi," you smiled, your voice like honey. "How was your day?"

He grunted in response, not in the mood to answer that question with anything more than a noncommittal noise, and tossed his sword on the table with a clatter. He ran a hand through his unruly hair, trying to ignore how your mere presence seemed to make the knots in his shoulders loosen just a bit.

You reached for his haori, folding it carefully and setting it aside. "Dinner will be ready soon. Would you like to wash up first?"

You always were so goddamn considerate, always trying to think ahead, trying to make sure everything was just right for him. It was. maddening in a way. How the hell was it so easy to be nice, so completely put off by his roughness?

"No," he snapped, sitting heavily at the table. "Just hurry up with the damn food."

"Of course, my love. I'll bring it right away."

You didn't bat an eye at the sharpness of his tone and moved with that calm grace that always seemed to unsettle him. You readied the food, all the while Sanemi watching you sideways for something-anything-to continue acting that way.

Another command was barked out, this one more biting. "But don't scorch it. I'm not in the mood for your usual bland crap.".

"Yes, dear. I will get it soon-the way you like it," you replied quickly in your always-soft respectful tone. You didn't even pause with the job on hand and that soft smile, until you got it to the table, just about perfectly prepared.

Sanemi frowned, attempting to find fault with it, but of course, there was nothing to be found. The food was great- exactly how he liked it. Still, he would never admit that, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath as he started to eat, hoping you didn't pay attention to the slight softening of his features.

You sat down opposite him, your hands neatly folded in your lap, and watched him eat with that gentle expression that drove him crazy, for reasons he could not quite fathom. It wasn't long before his irritation began to bubble up again, this time more at himself than you.

Why couldn't he just stay angry? Why did you have to be so… so…

"Why do you put up with this?" he finally snapped, his head jerking up from his meal, to meet your calm gaze. "Why don't you ever get pissed off? Why don't you ever talk back or tell me to shut up?"

You turned your head slightly, as if genuinely considering his questions, and then you smiled. A soft, warm smile that made something in his chest twist.

"Because I love you, Sanemi. I know you're just trying to cope with everything in your own way. If being rough with me helps you, then that's okay. I just want to make things easier for you."

Sanemi blinked, taken aback by your response. How could you say that with such sincerity? How could you look at him with so much affection after everything he'd said and done?

He opened his mouth for the argument, to say something sharp and biting back, but the words just wouldn't come. Instead, he felt the anger drain out of him, replaced instead by a confusion he couldn't quite shake.

"Easier for me?" he repeated, all but disbelieving. "How the hell is letting me treat you like crap easier on me?

"Because it gets it out," you said, like it was the most painfully obvious thing in the world. "I know you're not really mad at me. You're just frustrated sometimes, and that's okay. If it means that you need to get a little rough around the edges, then I'm cool with that. I know you don't mean it."

Sanemi stared at you, utterly dumbfounded. You seemed to take the wind out of his sails and left him floating, directionless because he did not know what would or should happen next. He was used to people fighting back, to fights and resistance, and you… well, you didn't push back. You don't fight. You just… accept him. And somehow, that was more disarming than any argument could have been.

He sat there, just staring at you for a moment, his brain racing to catch hold of what feeling was moving around inside him. It was annoying and confusing and-strangely comforting all at once.

He'd wanted to say something, to tell you that you didn't have to put up with his bullshit, you could be angry, you should be angry-but the words just wouldn't come. And that was it.

Finally, he exhaled loudly and rubbed his face in his hands. "You're too damn good for me," he grumbled, smiling more for himself than for you.

It was enough for him to see you smile again. "I'm all right, Sanemi. Do what you need to do-I'm here for you. Anything.

"Damn it," he muttered, the tension in his shoulders melting completely.

He couldn't stay angry, not when you looked at him like that. Not when you made it so damn hard to be mad. He stood up, walking around the table to pull you into a rough but heartfelt embrace. "You're too damn cute for your own good, you know that?

You giggled softly, leaning your head against his chest. "Thank you, Love."

"Don't thank me," he growled, though, by now, there was little true anger left in his tone. He tugged you closer, burying his face in your hair. "You're too courteous. It's annoying."

"I'm sorry," you said, but your voice was light, nearly playful.

His eyes rolled but a smile played at the corner of his lips. "Dammit, woman. Impossible.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | demon slayer m.list

demon slayers m.list

HONEY A/NOTE :: ill be making multiple parts to this btw !! i find the troupe of grumpy/easily mad x sunshine oblivious reader, so expect more of these!! if any of you have any specific ideas that would be lovely if you could let me know :D

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hello fen! my beloved! it is ominoose ! obligatory ily mwah! also any chance of some non smut romantic blue ? :)

ILY MWAH RIGHT BACK! And of course, it's always simping for Blue hours in my mind.

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi•requestinfo •

Warnings: overuse of italics, extremely soft Blue, references to previous sexy times, kissing, pet names, badly proofread, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 1085

________________________________

Blue’s in a foul mood. 

You knew that before he’d thrown the whisky glass against his office wall (you weren’t there at the time, but you’d heard about it after). You knew before Sabby’s hushed whispers reached you about the screaming fit he’d had. You knew before you’d seen his goons running around like panicked headless chickens. 

Some money had gone missing. A lot of money. 

A lot, a lot, a lot of money. 

So you’re a little on edge when Gorski tells you to go see him. That he’s requested you. It doesn’t exactly fill you with sunshine and rainbows. 

You knock on his office door gently, entering when he calls and shut the door softly behind you. 

You’re not sure what you're expecting. Rage. Shouting. Ranting. But it wasn’t this. 

He’s standing close, his shoulders slumped, his bottom lip pouting outwards ever so slightly. His eyes look red and glassy, not drunk or high, but on the verge of tears. 

“Baby,” he says with a sniffle and holds his arms out to you.

You swallow in surprise and move towards him quickly, reaching your hands out for him. Blue sighs as he holds you in a soft embrace, squeezing needily but being overly careful not to cause any discomfort. 

“Blue,” you speak softly, moving back a little to see his face and stroke his cheek. “You okay?” You know he’s not. But you ask anyway. 

He shakes his head and presses closer to your hand, kissing your wrist and hugging you tightly before he sniffles into your neck. “Horrible day.” He mumbles against your skin.

“I’m so sorry.” You stroke his back soothingly. 

He’s taken off his jacket and tie, you can see them discarded messily on his desk. Not folded neatly like his usual routine. 

“It’s okay.” He leans back and smiles, his voice thick and tired. He strokes your cheeks, your neck. His actions are soft, revenant. Not the needy grips and tight squeezes you're used to. 

“Come and sit with me?” The question in his voice surprises you. It sounds painfully genuine. 

You nod as he leads you to the plush sofa, keeping his hand in yours and rubbing his thumb against your skin. 

When you sit he pulls you carefully into his arms, leaning back and encouraging you to lay your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you. 

It’s oddly comfortable being held like this, being so close to him without part of him in you or you in him. 

He kisses your temple lightly, still stroking your upper arm lazily. “You’re my most precious thing, you know that?” His voice is so soft, quiet with a slight shake to it. 

You stiffen, you can’t help it. The words seem so alien that it’s like you’ve got emotional whiplash. 

“What?” There’s a hint of worry in his tone as he moves slightly, loosening his grip so he can look down at you as you glance up at him. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No, I…” You’re not sure what to say. What you can say. Why are you being so… kind?

He nods, a small frown pinching his forehead. He traces your jawline with his thumb. “I don’t tell you enough.” He pauses. “I don’t tell you at all.” He swallows and sighs. “You’re my- you’re the most precious person.” He trails his fingers softly down the nape of your neck and you shiver. 

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he intently watches your every movement and miniscule action. The way your breathing changes ever so slightly, how your eyes dilate a little when you look at him. 

Carefully he leans up to kiss you, gently urging you to lay on top of him fully as he reclines back. You follow his movements, certain that this will lead to passionately harsh kisses and his tongue in your mouth. Love bites and teeth marks, groans and sighs, and him coming inside you. You naked while he stays clothed, perhaps loosening another few buttons of his shirt, his belt unbuckled and fly undone.

But instead he holds you softly, kissing you gently and sweet. His tongue occasionally traces your bottom lip, slips inside a fraction, but it’s always delicate, thoughtful and sweet. So unlike his usual burning fire that leaves you blistered. This only warms you, wraps you tight in a comforting embrace. 

Eventually, though still far too soon for your liking, he pulls back, glazing up at you with large, doe eyes and kiss swollen lips. He smiles lazily. The look is soft on him, making him seem much younger suddenly. Less sharp around the edges. 

“I have something for you.” He whispers, pulling a box out of his pocket and opening it to show you. 

Inside is a beautiful drop necklace, decorated in delicate dark blue stones arranged in the shape of stars. It is so unlike the normal garish jewellery he makes the dancers wear, large pieces that gleam and catch the stage lights so even clients at the back can see how prettily his girls are decorated. 

You touch the necklace lightly. 

“They’re sapphires,” he says softly. “And diamonds, and white gold.” 

“Blue,” you’re not sure what to say, you’re not sure what he wants. 

He takes the necklace out of the box and carefully fastens it around your neck. The chain is loose. It doesn’t cut into your skin. You could easily remove it if you wanted to. 

“You look so beautiful.” But he isn’t looking anywhere near the necklace when he speaks, only into your eyes. 

You lean into his touch when he strokes your cheek again and he sighs happily. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t place. Contentment perhaps. 

“Lay with me a little longer?” He asks gently and you nod instantly. 

“Of course.” 

He smiles softly as you lay back down against his chest, his arms around you. 

It’s only when you settle that there’s a spike of embarrassment runs through you. “I didn’t say thank you Blue, for the necklace, it’s wonderful, I-”

“Shh,” he smiles and kisses the top of your head. “You never have to thank me for anything, ever.” He nuzzles against you for a moment. “You’re my special angel.” 

You listen to his heart calming as he hugs you. The gentle beat and warmth of his body. 

He whispers something quietly, barely louder than an inhale. Difficult to distinguish but you’re sure you caught the words. 

“I love you.”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[mystwrites]

Hi, congratulations on reaching 200 followers! You're a very talented writer and artist and worked hard to achieve this milestone!

If you would like for your follower event, could you do 🍉 and 🌊, with lee!Geto and ler!Gojo? I guess I'm basing the scenario where Geto and Gojo took Riko to Okinawa island to relax.

Again, congrats on this milestone and may many more come your way!

My 200 Followers Event is still open!

The beach was really great. Geto was downright enjoying himself. Of course, this was a mission he was supposed to be on with Gojo but Gojo’s idea of a beach day was incredible. The smell of the salty sea, the calming sounds of the waves hitting the sand, the warm sun on his body. It was all so relaxing.

While he did say he was opposed to the idea, he now has no arguments. Sunbathing was really nice and relaxing. A perfect change in scenery as well as atmosphere. Before, things were tense and now the mood was lifted, everyone smiling, laughing and genuinely happy.

“God…I love this…” he mumbled, Gojo next to him lying on his back, enjoying this fresh dose of vitamin c.

“I told you this would be fun!” Gojo sang, pointing to Riko and Kuroi going for a swim. “They’re having a lot of fun and I can tell you’re having a good time tanning.”

“Mmm. I did wanna get a tan at some point in my life.” Geto replied, comfortable as ever on his stomach. “Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“Is my back burning?”

“Uhhh…ooh! Yes, I see some redness.”

Geto groaned and sat up. “Shit. Really?”

“Yes! Right here! It’s red.” Gojo added, pressing down on Geto’s shoulder. He hissed as Gojo’s finger pressed into his skin. It did hurt slightly.

“Damn…that was quick.”

“Well, we were here for like…an hour and thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, but while I do wanna tan, I don’t wanna become a cooked lobster.“ Geto joked, tossing a bottle of sunscreen to Gojo. “Help me out and put sunscreen on my back will you?”

“Roger!” Gojo saluted, suddenly squirting a whole glob onto Geto’s back.

“OIY!! Take it easy with the sunscreen!” Geto gasped.

The sudden temperature change from hot to freezing cold startled Geto so much his foot kicked Gojo’s back. Apologizing, Gojo went to work, probably applying too much sunscreen but more is better than too little. Geto was grateful that his best friend would do this for him.

Geto’s eyes closed since it felt as if Gojo was massaging him but before he could completely relax, he felt two single fingers start to drag up and down his sides and swirl in a circular motion. Tensing up, Geto let out a loud inhale and whined, fully aware that Gojo was absolutely grinning behind him.

“Satoru!” he hissed. “That tickles!!”

“Dude, I’m not even trying to tickle you! I’m just doodling on your back with the sunscreen.” Gojo snickered, a mischievous grin appearing on his face much to Geto’s horror. “I drew a cat on your back hehehe! Let’s draw some more.~”

“Don’t even think about it you ass.” Geto barked.

“What? You don’t want a nice tattoo?”

“Hell no! Especially not if the “tattoo” is super painful tomorrow, then starts to itch and peel in a few days.”

“Oh well…it’s your loss. It was a very cute drawing.”

Geto laughed at the sad sigh Gojo let out and shook his head. Sometimes his friend could be too much. He still enjoyed being around Gojo nonetheless.

All was calm after Gojo finished applying the sunscreen to his back. The sounds of Riko screaming and laughing with Kuroi as a wave knocked them over was music to Geto’s ears as he continued to happily sunbathe. That was until he felt Gojo’s finger run up the back of his leg from the sole of his foot to the back of his knee. Jerking, Geto whipped around so fast he could’ve gotten whiplash and threw sand at Gojo’s face.

“GAAAH!” Gojo shook his head and giggled, smiling playfully at Geto.

“I swear to god, Satoru!” he growled, glaring at the white haired teen. “If you don’t stop…”

“What? If I don’t stop then what?~” Gojo teased, brushing the sand off of his cheek before suddenly tickling Geto’s spine.

“I will not hesitate to unleash the kissy cu-AAAGHHH!!” Geto couldn’t find it in him to spit out an angry remark as Gojo started to gently scribble at his hips. “Dahahammit Satoru!!”

“Hehee. Oh this is good!” Gojo snickered, sitting on Geto’s lower back. “Let’s have a little fun then, Suguru!~”

Geto shook his head, slapping the beach towel he resided on as Gojo’s hands connected with his armpits. While he wouldn’t normally be against a sudden Gojo tickle attack, they were at the beach, not in their dorm rooms where they had privacy. Anyone could look at them and think they were crazy. And worst of all, Riko and Kuroi might possibly join in the fun.

“Thihis is chihildish!! Quit th-this nonsehense!! Sato-RUUUHUHUHU!! IHIHI’M SEHERIOUS!!” Geto wheezed, reaching back to push Gojo away once his hands settled on his hips.

All that came in response was Gojo humming, happy to just tickle his friend to pieces. Giggling, Gojo suddenly lay on top of Geto, going for his ribs, hips and armpits all at once. Laughing, Geto flailed about, kicking up sand before he submitted to the sensations plaguing his body.

“Is this still childish?” Gojo snickered, rolling Geto onto his back. “Tickling my best friend and making him laugh is childish??”

“Y-YEHEHES YOU GOON!” Geto cried, wheezing as Gojo dusted the sand off of his stomach. “KNOHOHOCK IT OFF!!”

“Make me stop, Suguru!~” Gojo taunted, smug as ever. “Why don’t you make a curse stop me?~”

Gojo let out a yelp as Geto kicked him in the back. Seeing his opportunity, Geto bucked his hips as hard as he could, successfully dislodging Gojo from his waist. Without hesitation, he ran into the water to join Riko and Kuroi, Gojo hot on his heels.

“Amanai! Kuroi!!” he wheezed, shivering as his feet, thighs and then hips were submerged in the water. “Please help me!!”

“What’s wrong? Is Gojo being a turd?” Riko asked, clearly not surprised Gojo would be starting some chaos.

“Yeah! He’s engaging in childish activities!!” Geto cried, hiding behind Kuroi.

“What kind of “childish activities” are we talking about?” Kuroi asked.

“W-we don’t talk about that…” Geto stammered, pointing at Gojo and trying hard to ignore the burning of his cheeks. “You back the fuck up!”

“C’mere Suguru!~ I’m not done with you yet! Don’t hide behind Amanai and Kuroi you wimp!~”

Thinking on the fly, Riko let out a battle cry and kicked water into Gojo’s face. Geto saw this as his moment to put the sudden tickle attack to an end and grabbed his friend by the waist. Gojo shrieked, feeling his feet levitate out of the water and into the air. Snickering, Kuroi and Riko watched, wondering what Geto would do.

“There!” Geto said, suddenly tossing Gojo over his shoulder and into the water. “Problem solved.”

Sputtering, Gojo resurfaced, scoffing as he searched for his sunglasses that fell off in all the chaos. Riko and Kuroi both snickered as Geto loomed over him, his arms crossed.

“You done with these childish antics, Satoru?” he asked, Gojo laughing and putting his glasses back on.

“Pffft! Nah but I won’t do anything for now.” Gojo sang, poking Geto’s tummy.

“For now?!?” Geto squawked, splashing Gojo once again. “Don’t you dare tickle me again!”

“Aaah.” Riko snickered, nodding her head at Kuroi. “That’s what “childish activities” meant.”

A/N: Thank you for the request!🩷I loved writing for Gojo and Geto so much! It’s refreshing to start writing for other fandoms.

[nannyan]

Okay so there are e few things in DSAF 2 in particular that I've wanted to ramble about for a while so this is kind of the start of that haha.

In this post I am going to talk a really little bit about one of my favorite scenes in DSAF because I've been meaning to for a while and I finally sat down on my ass to write this.

The scene in question being the one in DSAF 2 where Peter confronts you about what a piece of shit monster you are!!!! YAY

This isn't going to really be about the writing in this scene. Because I mean yeah we all know that it's amazing. That's pretty obvious.

Nor is it going to be about it in the context of the overall story - the little things it reveals and how it becomes infinitely more powerful and heart wrenching when you know the characters.

What I more so want to highlight is its placement in the second game itself, how that elevates it so much more. Because I've never really heard anyone mention this before and I've been thinking about it for a while.

I think the point at which this scene is placed is incredibly smart, and is part what makes it so memorable and effective.

And where is it placed exactly? Well right about in the middle of Dave's routes.

The purple guy is, dare I say, the most entertaining part of the first game. With his wacky antics and "Old Sport" this "Old Sport" that, he leaves and immense impression. He is most people's favorite part.

And upon meeting him again in the second game, with him giving you the same proposition - kill a few kiddins to shut down the restaurant and be a free man, you'll most likely accept. Because you want to see down what ridiculous path he'll lead you this time. So his is the first route you'll probably get to experience. Most players coming off of the first game will be fully expecting DSAF 2 to be more of the same - a silly meme game. And it really does present itself like that - when you open the game you are once again greeted with a music box rendition of a meme song. But this is also where you've fallen into the trap.

If you need a little refresher on what leads to Phone Guy's speech - you rig one of the suits full with silly putty, with the help of Dave, so that it fails with Jimbo the janitor inside, who is forced to wear it when you don't show up on time the next day.

Standard DSAF ridiculousness, you wouldn't expect less.

But what follows is one of the most raw and realistic scenes in this game (I'd even say the whole trilogy). Phone Guy goes in on you, hard. And you're kind of just forced to sit there and take it. Jack tries to lighten the mood with a few quips but Phone Guy doesn't let him. The game doesn't let you take this moment lightly.

There is a complete tonal 180. You go from watching Jimbo experience some VAST DISCOMFORT to being told, straight up, what a horrible person you are. And that whiplash kind of takes you out of it. Personally it reminded me of being a child and getting scolded by your parents, for doing something wrong. It makes you feel uncomfortable.

Now I am not giving all the credit to the scene's placement. The writing is obviously doing the majority of the lifting. But I do genuinely believe if it was anywhere else in the game, in any other route, it just wouldn't hit as hard. From Dave's route, again, being the most probable one you'd choose first, to you being like deep to your neck in the Aubergine's ridiculousness and then being, suddenly, completely pulled out from that, and being hit by the weight of your choice. It is all just so perfect. I love it so muchhh

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

I actually did start drafting this yesterday but then my day got derailed by moustacheddie. Back again with another round of the fic I've been reading this week! You can find previous rec lists here.

27 July 2024

if you leave the light on by cloudydaisies is a post-canon fic that skips the messy bits and goes straight to a place where Buck and Eddie are free to be with each other. Though of course nothing is ever that straightforward, and here the speedbump comes in the form of an extended jeep engine light metaphor that works so beautifully. A delicious slow burn, in which Buck trusts Eddie when he says he can fix his truck and it's best to just stay with him and carpool until it's ready. Some really really lovely romance.

loves a game, wanna play? by @exhuastedpigeon have I ever seen a single episode of Love Island? No! Did that stop me enjoying the heck out of this wonderfully indulgent and fun fic. Absolutely not. In an effort to get Eddie out of his post-canon summer without Chris funk, Buck convinces him to sign up to Love Island with him. Has Eddie seen Love Island? No. Will that stop him from finding the love that's been right in front of him all along (and get a tan whilst he's at it?) Absolutely not! So funny and playful. A genuine and utter delight.

Drink in Hand by EiraLloyd a Hen POV Eddie coming out fic, with bonus Karen. In which Eddie kisses a guy at a bar and likes it:

She asks, “How bad is this going to be?”

Eddie holds out the bottle he’s carrying so she can read the label. “I brought mezcal.”

Translation: I’m having an existential crisis.

How is Hen supposed to turn him away? He brought mezcal.

so much left in store by @lesbianrobin in which Eddie is a single Dad in college, and Buck is the adhd punk kid at the back of the class, but of course he's an absolute baby whisperer. As they quickly become best friends and each other's support systems, Buck lets Eddie into a way to blow of steam...but a small disaster might accidentally lead to firefighters showing up.

all your letters in the sand (cannot heal me like your hand) by @dadbodbuck ok a sharp left turn into some hard angst here, so heed the trigger warnings and make sure you're safe when reading, this explores an on the page suicide attempt and subsequent recovery. In the wake of his mistakes and struggling with Chris' absence, Eddie's mental health rapidly declines. Buck and Tommy are there to catch him and offer a safe space to land. Not sugarcoated, this is crunchy and painful to read at times, but the love shines through, and though it's not a simple or easy journey, Eddie finds the support he needs to let professionals help him.

With a Friend in the Dark by Uncertainty_Principle and apparently I was in an angsty mood whilst fighting off this stupid cold because I also really loved this S3 post lawsuit, nobody is speaking to him, 'what if Buck found out his clots were lukemia' fic. Poor Buck just can't get the words out when he needs them, stuck in a miscommunication nightmare, and with a childhood secret about to blow up in his face. Maddie and Chim step in and soon the 118 realise just what the price is of holding on to anger. Just so much emotional whiplash. Whilst part one is complete, the follow up fic is a wip in progress now!

Maybe We're Strong by @ponyregrets finally it's time for some buddie meets The Good Place crossover fic, in which Bobby is Michael and Buck and Eddie are trying to figure out how they ended up in the good place when they've barely even lived their lives yet, Eddie's still in the army and Buck has been travelling but was thinking about maybe being a firefighter. Putting the firefam in this dynamic just works so well!

[kazucee]

★ JAMES POTTER ISN'T DENSE ! he just needed some time to figure things out, he was pretty good at reading the mood of the room and could easily tell when someone wasn't feeling like themselves. Figuring out the source of that however is a whole different story. Especially when it involves his bestest friends ever revealing that their friendship was something a little more than that.

In which something was going on between Remus and Sirius and James would be damned if he was going to be kept out of the loop. Pairings: small mentions of wolfstar !

it's a James Potter centric pov ! [wc: 1.5k]

This was bound to happen eventually.

The sheets felt too constricting, the dorm felt too hot and his clothes clung onto him in a way that made him feel sticky and unclean. Raven locks messily tumbled down his shoulder, unbrushed and unkept, yet despite all of these minor annoyances Sirius Black still looked gorgeous. Even the blind could notice it, the way the young man had a certain aura to him, he lit up every room with that infectious and honey glazed smile of his.

However, James had noticed something peculiar about this self proclaimed starman during the past weeks. He had gotten more quiet, reserved, as if the usual sunshine got eclipsed by the moon. He found it quite strange, his partner in crime was never one for being in such a slump. Usually he was dramatic when it came to measly things but that was often done in a satirical way. This slump seemed... genuine.

Despite the nonstop pestering of the quidditch captain, Sirius didn't seem to budge. The other had a knack for making it seem like everything was fine and dandy with him, James knew better. He wasn't the brightest in the class, no, that was Evans (in his personal non biased opinion) or Remus. He saw movement across the room, the subtle sound of footsteps on the floor and the door creaking open with its old hinges. The Casanova had arrived in the common room, the crackling warmth of the fire casting a soft orange tinted glow towards his serious face. James wasn't the brightest in the class but he had noticed it. The subtle shift of Sirius' gaze from the new presence to the carpeted floor—as if it was the most interesting puzzle the other had ever encountered. He had noticed the way Remus threw a haphazard glance towards the ebony haired male as if he was the interesting puzzle Remus was trying to piece together.

James lets out a cough which warranted both their attentions, his ever present mischief laced grin plastered on as he greeted the two “it's a good day for another prank isn't it?” For once, like the two had switched bodies and souls, Sirius casted him a bemused stare whilst Remus actually seemed more on board. This crazy switch up almost left him whiplashed. Was it because the taller male wanted an exit from this room or was it the crazy tension that no one else besides James seemed to notice (they could be just ignoring it, pretending as if it didn't exist). James found it amusing, granted the amount of times Remus would call him out for being dense he could easily tell that something was amiss with his two best pals. His Buddies, Compadres, Amigos, weren't exactly acting all that. Right now any one with two eyes (James has four, maybe that's why he could see it better) could describe their demeanours as something akin to two school girls who had just gotten asked out by their crushes. Which to put it frankly in James’ mind was quite…impossible.

Remus had excused himself from the room, James assumed it was to get changed. Remus John Lupin could be described as a silent person, he prefers chocolate as long as he's not sharing it, books as long as it's quiet and no one's disturbing him, and in those rare cases teaching as long as the student kept his or her mouth shut and didn't ask questions. Remus was simple but complex at the exact same time, he hates when they call him moony but James swears he sees a sliver of a smile whenever he hears the nickname. Sirius on the other hand was complex, but not hard to figure out once you get to know him. He liked the attention be it good or bad, he liked grinning that grin of his because he knows better than anyone that he infact is the most eligible bachelor this school has seen, he claims that he hates school work but he always hounds on Remus to help him with his Divination work, he claims that he's perfectly fine and that nothing could chip that impenetrable armor of his but James could see the small cracks.

“James” He looked up when he heard Sirius’ voice call out to him, his brows furrowing because—Sirius didn't usually sound like that, he'd sound confident, suave, charming. Right now his tone carried the musings of a little boy who wanted to confess something to his parent. Did he break something? James wondered and before Sirius could get a word in he immediately spouted out “whatever you did I forgive you”

Sirius’ expression was an amusing thing to observe, his face pretty much says it all whenever he's mad or happy or annoyed or so close to punching you in the face, one glance at that stupid face of his and you could tell which one you’re dealing with (the punch had hurt, James knew he should've ducked.) Right now he felt that ducking was probably the right course if action. Sirius had his brows scrunched in faint confusion and irritation.

“I didn't do anything” He scoffed before chucking a pillow his way, he ducked, his instincts where never wrong. Sirius leaned back against the couch crossing his arms, James felt a little silly, waiting for the other to tell him what exactly was going on. He didn't like being kept out of the loop, especially when it came to Sirius. They were best friends? Heck the best friends even. They shared everything with each other saved for toothbrushes Sirius warned that he'd curse him if he even thought about it.

“What is it then?” He proded because he can't take this silence anymore because he's sure that something was going on between him and the person who had just reentered the common room with a cozy sweater and a book tucked at his side. Sirius went nonverbal again and refused to look Remus’ way and in return Remus made it a point to sit beside the other, flipping open his book and reading casually. His brow couldn't have gone higher, Sirius was tense, Remus was reading and James was completely and utterly muddled.

After a small minute of, who can keep quiet and be oblivious the longest, He cracked. “What in Merlin's beard is going on with the two of you?” His voice cracked at the end but he couldn't be embarrassed when Sirius looked as if James had told him that his mother was coming to visit and Remus spared him a bemused glance but James saw how his hold tightened slightly on the spine of the book he was reading—wait, was it upside down?

“Don't make me start guessing because I swear you won't like where it'll end.” He continued making it a point to stand and march towards the two boys his socked feet pattering against the carpeted floor. He dare spare a glance at Sirius who looked as if he was going to land a spell on him then at Remus who tried to discreetly turn the book right side up but got caught mid turn. When both didn't respond he made a frustrated noise that could be placed between a groan and tired sigh.

“you both saw Minnie in her undergarments” That drew an appalled sound from Sirius and a grimance from Remus. “Thanks for that image Prongs.” The latter muttered as he massaged the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “That's not even the worse thing I thought of, If you two won't spit it out I fear I might actually die because of it. Perish. I won't become the best captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team and we won't win the house cup, do you really want that on your conscience?” He drags an exasperated hand through his messy locks. “Always the one for dramatics aren't you Potter?” Sirius sneered, crossing his arms and legs in that prissy heir to the black empire way.

“You both going to tell me or do I have to steal some Veritaserum and spike your drinks?” That earned an amused snort from Remus which made his left eye twitch in visible irritation. He glanced between the two, for the first time this slow paced evening Sirius actually looks Remus in the eyes, no not on his sweater collar or that mole on his jaw, his eyes. James could feel his body deflating in slight relief, that was something at least. After another round of silence (to James' delight) and both of them communicating via their telepathic brainwaves or something along those lines. He focused on Sirius, the way those stormy eyes went from pleading to acceptance then finally settled on nonchalance. Remus piped up a moment later. His voice was crisp, clear and tainted with slight hesitancy and honestly it made James straighten his spine a bit.

“We’re dating Prongs.”

Oh.

There were a lot of moments in his life where he felt like the stupidest man in the room, this was number one.

a/n: goodness it's been so long since I've written anything like this (last time being on Wattpad, like 6 years ago) but this has been sitting on my Tumblr drafts for so long it's been killing me inside everytime I open this damn app. Anyways first fic? And it's wolfstar (ish) ? It's James Potter centric because I love that man with all my heart and I live for the 'him being dense asf when it comes to wolfstar' agenda. This wasn't proofread in any way—i wrote and I just went with it so I'm sorry if it's all over the place and if the writing doesn't make any sense TT. Be kind is all I ask, I just wanted to write James and his inner monologues. No idea if I'll ever post another fic but I do have a drafted Solangelo one hehe (sorry for the ramble !! Enjoy your days~)

The characters are from JK. Rowling's world, I don't associate myself with the author. © All rights reserved

𐙚 Reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated !

[citrus-cactus]

Survive Week, Day 1 (A New World)

I love point-and-click adventure games, I love Digimon Survive, and I love the little optional puzzle in Part 1 with the vinegar and the spirit lamp. So I decided imagine what Survive might look like as a point-and-click adventure game, in the form of this mock screenshot. A new (old) world, indeed! I based it mainly off of LucasArt's UI, even though I exclusively played King's Quest/Sierra games as a kid :)

Genuinely though, I would adore playing a version of Survive where a) Your key item inventory mattered a bit more, b) You could gain affinity by solving little inventory object puzzles around the school for your friends, and c) MORE TERRIBLE PUNS, particularly when you (Takuma/the player) dies though if the story and everything else was exactly the same, that would create some pretty horrible mood whiplash, wouldn't it?

But SPEAKING of terrible puns, here are some bonus text boxes showing what would happen if you decided to GIVE MINORU'S SOCK to RYO:

Thank you, thank you... I'll see myself out.

[yumeka-sxf]

At some point I plan to write an analysis post about SxF in general, particularly why I think it's such a great series. But when asked today by SxF Positivity on Twitter, I gave my abbreviated answer:

"Not only does the series have great characters, all of which have shades of gray and are not totally good or bad (except maybe Bond, lol) but the mix of comedy and drama is very effective. Not many series can go from a funny, light-hearted slice-of-life comedy to a dark, dramatic, war commentary story without some kind of mood whiplash, but I never get that feeling with SxF. The two themes seamlessly go in and out of each other, a feat I rarely see done well in anime or even media overall. Also the humor is just genuinely very clever and hilarious, and I'm a sucker for "found family" stories!"

[alwaysonthemend]

Part II: To Strange Horizons

Word Count: 3715

Warnings: Cussing / allusions to violence

A/N: Hello all! Just a heads up that this chapter is just a little bit shorter than the last one but that's just because it's setting up a lot of stuff that's going to be happening in chapter 3. Hope ya'll enjoy!

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

The ship is a beautiful thing – far better taken care of than any of the ships that I had seen grace the ports of Easthallow before. It's not an overly large ship, though it is most definitely large enough to be a threat to most merchant ships that sail these waters. It’s painted black and decorated with white embellishments, with “Starcatcher” emblazoned proudly on its side. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and my steps slow to a stop as we approach. Though night has descended upon us, the full moon casts just enough light for me to stand in awe of the magnificent ship. 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Jacob asks, looking at me with a proud glint in his eye. 

Slinging my pack higher on my shoulder, I nod. 

“I’ve never seen a ship like it before.” 

“Aye, I reckon not many come through here with such a ship. She’s a galleon.” He says glancing over his shoulder and beckoning for me to follow him. 

Tearing my eyes away from the ship, I hasten my steps to catch up with him. 

“She can reach up to eight knots. That’s almost 140 miles a day.”

He speaks with pride, and despite having never been acutely interested in ships, I want him to tell me more. His voice is so different as he speaks of the Starcatcher, and I wish desperately that this kinder tone would never leave him. Gone is the brooding sadness and barely contained rage, replaced instead with a fondness and pride that makes him seem so much softer than he had before. 

“She's gorgeous.” I tell him, and his lips turn upwards in a barely there smile. It’s the most genuine expression I think I have received from him yet. I want more than anything to see what his real smile looks like.

“Why did you name her Starcatcher?” 

No sooner had the question left my mouth, the expression dropped from his face. Like watching a mask slip into place, his face contorts into a scowl. 

“I was not the one who named her.” Is all he says before turning on his heel and marching into the ship. 

His shifts in mood threaten to give  me whiplash as I silently follow behind him, cursing myself for asking. 

– 

All eyes turn to us as soon as we step onto the deck. I pull my pack tighter to myself, wishing to shrink away from their peering eyes. Some 25 men make up his crew in total, and not a single one of them carries an expression that is in any way welcoming. Some look on in confusion while some cannot seem to contain their scowl as they regard me. Each man looks to be no older than 30, though they all carry a weight to their shoulders that makes them seem older somehow. 

“What the fuck, Jacob?” The curly headed man from before exclaims, rising from where he’d been leaning against the foremast and I gasp at his use of profanity. Never have I heard a man say such crude language before.

The other men mutter amongst themselves, casting looks towards myself and Jacob. 

“Sit down, Joshua.” Jacob orders, and Joshua’s eyes blaze at the command. He takes a step back, but does not sit. “You, Samuel, and Daniel stay. The rest of you,” Jacob’s eyes scan the other men, “find somewhere else to be.” 

“Captain, respectfully-” One man begins, but Jacob is swift to cut him off. 

“Trust that I will make sure that you all are informed of what you need to be. We need a moment alone.” 

The authority in his tone makes a shiver run up my spine. The rest of his crew rises and cast their eyes downwards at Jacob’s feet as they pass – each seemingly too afraid to meet his stone-cold gaze. They travel in single file to the hatch, climbing downwards into the darkness below. 

As soon as the hatch door closes, Jacob grips my wrist and tugs me forward, pushing me towards a wooden crate sitting by the foremast at Joshua’s side. 

“Sit.” He orders, and I do so without resistance. 

“Well?” The long-haired man asks, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to Jacob. 

“I found them. But they’re encoded. She’s the only one left who knows how to read them.” Jacob explains. He’s standing with his legs parted and chin high – a boastful position that oozes authority, despite being shorter than the long-haired man. 

“Could she not decode them now?” The fourth man asks, breaking his silence for the first time. He’s got darker features than the other three men, with black curly hair that frames his strong jawline. 

“She said-” 

“It will take time to decode them.” I interrupt the Captain, sitting up straighter as each of their gazes falls onto me. “I can speak for myself, thank you.” 

The long-haired man chuckles softly under his breath, earning himself a glare from Jacob. He silences himself quickly.  

“It has been a long time since I practised these symbols, and each set is slightly different from the others.” 

“And how exactly do we know that we can trust you, lass?” Joshua asks with a tilt of his head. He’s smiling, and the expression reminds me so suddenly of Jacob that I assume they must be related somehow.  

“We don’t.” The long-haired man mutters, leaning over towards the dark haired man as he speaks. 

“Samuel, enough.” Jacob cuts in. “She’s all we have. There are no Calloways left that could decode these symbols. She’s the last one.” 

Samuel raises his hands in a placating manner, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Just asking, brother. Just asking. If she truly is the only one, then trust her we must, I suppose.” 

The Captain nods at him solemnly. 

“I don’t like it.” Joshua announces, crouching down before me so that we’re eye to eye. “You know what they always say…” He starts, grinning wickedly as he extends his hand to brush my cheek with his fingertips. “Never trust a fucking Calloway.’’

I jerk my head away from his touch, fear gripping me as he stares. His smile seems genuine and yet I see no kindness behind his eyes. It’s unsettling. 

“Calloway I may be,” I start, narrowing my eyes at him in what I hope is a menacing expression,  “but I would appreciate you stepping away from me.” The demand is overshadowed by the shake in my voice but I do not drop his gaze. Somehow, I feel as if looking away first would be a victory for him. 

“Joshua…” Jacob begins, but he only shrugs as he rises from his squatted position. 

“Kitten's got claws, it seems.” He says snidely, winking at me as he straightens himself. 

“Daniel?” Jacob asks, turning to the dark-haired man. “You’ve not said anything.”

Daniel only hums quietly, touching his forefinger to his chin as if in thought. 

“We don’t really have much of a choice, do we?” 

They are all silent for a long moment and a shiver runs through me as I realize that my fate lies solely in the hands of these strange men.

“That’s settled then.” Jacob nods, wringing his hands together as he appraises me. “Take her to my quarters. She can sleep there for now.” 

With that, Jacob turns on his heel and makes his way to the bow. His long coat billows behind him as he walks and I take it that I will most likely not see him again tonight. 

Samuel and Daniel both turn their gazes back towards me, but Joshua’s eyes stay trained on Jacob’s back. His expression is one of pain – the depth of which I can scarcely imagine. 

“Follow me.” Daniel says, and though his tone is not necessarily amicable, there is far more kindness in his tone compared to the other three.

I rise from my place and follow him down the steep stairs and through the hatch, steadying myself on the rails as we go. Though the November air outside on the deck had been chilled, down here is of a different set: more oppressive, more solid. It has substance. Moist and enveloping, sucking me in and stealing my breath. Already, I miss the clean air of land. 

“Where will the Captain sleep if I am in his quarters?” I ask Daniel, eyes trained on his broad shoulders as we walk. 

“He rarely sleeps down here, lass. If he sleeps at all.” 

I nod, his response only arising more questions than answers. I say no more.

– 

His quarters are not what I had expected them to be – almost homey in comparison to the rest of the ship. A lit lantern sits on the desk in the corner, casting the room in a warm light. His bed is perfectly made, looking almost completely untouched save for the rumpled covers at the foot, indicating that he must have sat down there recently. 

“What’s your name, lass?” Daniel asks me as I step through the threshold. 

“Y/n.” 

He just nods, staring at me for a long moment. His gaze is piercing, yet I do not feel uncomfortable from it. 

“Thank you for agreeing to this, Y/n. Though it is not my place to tell you why translating those notes is important to him, just know that you are instrumental in retrieving something very important to him – to all of us, really.”

I do not know how to answer him. I only give him a terse smile as I place my pack on the Captain’s bed. 

“I’ll take my leave now.” 

“Thank you, Daniel.” I hope that he knows that I mean it.

Once the door closes behind him, I take a moment to observe the room closer. His desk is cluttered – scribbled notes and maps littering the surface. Gingerly, I step forward to examine them. I sort through each one slowly, feeling like a child doing something she knows she’s not supposed to. Most of the notes are nonsense to me – sea-faring talk that I do not understand the meaning of. 

But it’s not those that catch my eye. Amongst the scribbles, there lies a few metered verses scrawled into the margins of the pages. 

Poems. 

Few of them finished and most covered in crossed out words, but poems nonetheless. As I glance over them, I cannot help but to admire the lines. The Captain has a way with words. 

The thought of him sitting alone here, bent over a piece of paper and scrawling these verses makes warmth spark to light in my belly – despite the fact that they are not happy verses. Yet their sorrow carries beauty. Wistful lamentations of being lost at sea – torn apart and floating aimlessly through the frothy depths. Reading them feels like the deepest invasion of privacy and I tear my eyes away from them. 

There is one painting sitting framed on his desk. A woman – with beautiful dark skin and long hair. I pick up the frame, admiring her closer. Though it is only a painting, I cannot help but stand in awe at her beauty. My mind spins with possibilities of who she might be. A lover, surely. An odd feeling takes root in my sternum at the thought, though I cannot begin to explain why. Turning the frame over, I see no markings that give any indication as to who the woman is or when the painting was done. 

A knock at the door startles me, and I quickly place the frame back into its spot. I step away from the desk, once again feeling as though I am not supposed to be in here. 

The door opens before I can invite the intruder in and I bristle as Joshua strides into the room, pointedly closing the door behind him. The dim light of the lantern casts shadows across his sharp jawline and his white teeth almost glow in the darkness. There is something about him… an aura that sets me on edge. He’s like the clouds that cover the sky before a heavy storm – looming menacingly on the horizon. I feel as though he might snap any moment, pulling me into the fray alongside him. 

“What do you want?” I ask, cursing how meek my voice sounds. 

“Sit.” He orders, his voice silky smooth as he points towards the end of the Captain’s bed. 

I huff a breath as I follow his command. 

“I am only going to say this one time, lass.” He mutters, stepping in close to me and leaning downwards – so close that I can feel his hot breath on my face. “Breathe a word of what I am about to say to you to anyone, and there will be Hell to pay. Do you understand?” 

I purse my lips and do not give him an answer, but he seems to take my silence as answer enough. 

“My brother… he’s been through much. And the thing he seeks means more to him than the very air he breathes.” His voice is low, almost a whisper as he speaks. “If for some reason he does not succeed, he will not survive it.”

I open my mouth – intent on demanding answers as to what this quest of his must be but he silences me with a piercing look. 

“I will not tell you what it is that he seeks. It is not your place to know. I simply need you to understand something.” 

Already, I grow tired of the riddles. But yet… I understand that I am not yet owed any explanation. They do not trust me – nor I them. Yet, here I am on their ship, abandoning everything that I know for the sake of helping a pirate who threatened my life. It sounds so absurd I almost laugh out loud. 

“And what exactly do you need me to know?”

“If the reason that he does not succeed is you… understand that I will kill you. Slowly. Painfully. In all the ways that I know hurt the most. I have lost more than you could ever even dream of, and I will not lose him too.” 

The aggression of his earlier tone gives way to a deep, heart wrenching desperation as he speaks, and I find myself nodding without conscious thought. There is no doubt in my mind now that he and the Captain’s relationship is close – even for siblings. I am struck with a pang of jealousy at the thought of someone loving me that fiercely and, despite the circumstance, I cannot help but admire the intense protectiveness that the man in front of me possesses. 

“I understand.” I whisper, meeting his gaze with as much honesty as I can. “I want to help him. I cannot tell you why, but I know that helping him is what I am meant to do. And I know that the nature of my family name must give you reason to doubt that – but believe me when I tell you that I am not like the rest of my family. I knew few of them, and the ones I did I wish that I had not…” I trail off for a moment, feeling suddenly startled by the honesty of my own words. I had never spoken this out loud to anyone before and here I am, spilling my most personal secrets with a stranger. There is something about Joshua that seems to draw the truth from between my lips unbidden.

“So please see the truth within my words," I continue, my words coming out only just above a whisper, "when I say that I refuse to be anything like them. And I will do anything and everything in my power to help the Captain in his quest – whatever it may be.”

There is no lie as I meet Joshua’s gaze, and somehow I can see that he realises it. 

Joshua nods and for the very first time, his expression is genuine as he regards me. 

“I think we understand each other, then.” He says, straightening up and heading towards the door. 

“I think we do.” 

“Good night, Y/n.” And with that, he’s gone. 

I exhale through my nose, instantly feeling more at ease at his absence. A tentative truce may have occurred between myself and Joshua but I am not fool enough to believe that he really trusts me. I certainly do not fully trust him. 

As the silence of the room surrounds me, a bone-deep weariness overtakes me – the emotional turbulence of the day finally catching up to me. I eye my pack, debating on whether or not I have the energy to pull out those folded pages within and begin the painstaking task of translating them. Pressing as the matter may be, my vision is already swimming and the thought of trying to decipher the codes sounds near impossible at the moment. It would be of no real use to attempt it now. 

Instead, I place my pack on the floor and pull the covers back, slipping into the beckoning warmth of the bed. Immediately, my senses are flooded with his smell – sweet whiskey, sweat, and the smell of salt all mixed together with his natural musk. I inhale deeply as I settle in, closing my eyes against the dim glow of the lantern, now only just barely still burning. It doesn’t take long for the gentle rock of the boat to lull me into sleep. 

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

Joshua POV 

Jacob has not moved by the time I ascend to the deck again. He stands at the bow, looking out into the dark waters.

Even from afar, his pain radiates from him like a black smoke, sputtering out of his very pores and coating myself and him with its inky substance, threatening to choke us both. I wish desperately that I could take it from him. 

“She’s settled, I think.” I speak into the silence, coming to stand just behind him. 

“Thank you.”

He makes no move to turn around as he speaks and the distance between us has never felt more cavernous. I ache to reach out and touch him… to feel the warmth of him as some sort of proof that he’s still alive and not made of cold stone. 

“Do you really think those notes are the key to all of this?” 

Still, he does not even look at me.

“They will at least give me some sort of inkling as to whatever it is that I will be walking into.” 

“We.” I remind him, pointedly taking a step closer so that our shoulders are almost touching. His gaze remains fixed upon the water, watching how the moon’s reflection dances with the waves. 

“There is no telling the danger that lies in waiting. I cannot ask you to follow me. Any of you.” 

“Then it is a good thing that you do not have to ask.” I grip his shoulder, willing him silently to at least look at me as I speak. He does not, instead simply shrugging his shoulder to detach himself from my grip. 

He only hums in response and I cannot stop the sigh that escapes me. This is not the first time that we have had this discussion – nor will it be the last. But I will sooner throw myself overboard than allow him to do this alone. 

“Jack said that we will need to stop for provisions.” 

Jacob nods. 

“We will stop at Nassau, then. Make a quick stop there for rest and supplies before setting out.”

I roll my eyes, groaning at the suggestion. 

“Must you always choose the most vile of places, brother mine? I can already smell the shit and piss from here.” 

At last, Jacob turns to look at me and he chuckles lightly – and the sound makes my entire body thrum with warmth. I have not heard him laugh in a very long time.

“That’s our own people that you’re speaking about, Joshua.” He says with a small grin.

“And I’m sure Hornigold will be oh so pleased to see you again.” 

Jacob nods. 

“If he sees me. Though the hope is that he is none the wiser that we are there.”

“And if he does find out?” 

“Then he will just have to get over himself.”

We are both silent for a moment and it feels, briefly, like everything is back to normal… like none of it happened. I wish I could make it so. There are so many things that I wish we all had done differently. 

I shake my head. It does no good now to dwell on the past. 

“Try and get some sleep tonight, Jacob. I know I’m the prettier twin anyway... but you look like shit.” 

Jacob exhales a laugh, narrowing his eyes at me. At first, I think he might send a jab back at me – a playful insult to level the playing field. It’s what the old Jacob would have done. But he doesn’t. It’s only another painful reminder that the Jacob I once knew is long gone.  

“I’ll try.” He says, and that’s the closest he’s come to actually admitting that he hasn’t been sleeping well – a fact which we are all aware of, yet too afraid to mention to his face. The men fear him now – a fact that pains me beyond measure. The man standing in front of me... I hardly recognize him anymore.

“My door is always unlocked.” My words slip out unbidden. It’s silly – the prospect of two grown men sharing a bed. But I won’t retract the offer. We used to do it when we were young… when one of us needed comfort or had a bad dream. Surely, after everything, no one could fault either of us for seeking out some extra comfort. Though undoubtedly, he will not take it.

“I know.” Jacob turns back around, and I can see in his posture the silent dismissal. Though my heart aches as I make my leave, I am comforted slightly in the knowledge that he had laughed – it was small, more of an exhale really, but he had laughed. As minuscule of a victory it may be, it is a victory still. A sign that the real Jacob is still in there somewhere – just hidden away from us. I can only pray that he will return to us. If this mission of his fails… I can only fear the worst.

:¨·.·¨:☾☆༺ 𓆩⚔︎𓆪 ༻☆☽:¨·.·¨:

Part III

Mirror of the Damned taglist:

@jakeyt @sacredjake @carbondancingthroughtime @literal-dead-leaf @sinarainbows @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @aflame4goinghome @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @mysticalstarcatcher @brinlygvf @mackalah @vanfleeter @chewbeka22 @starcatcherchords @char289 @amygvf13 @way-to-go-lad @jaketlove

[hrodvitnon]

Madison or Josh or someone has the funny idea to teach Shimo modern slang. The result is her mixing that with her overtly formal methods of speech- AKA some of the most whiplash inducing statements ever.

Ichi: Are you shitting me?? That's a stupid plan, Goji.

Shimo: Hark, Golden Demise. Let his majesty cook.

Ichi: ...what.

-

Shimo: Rodan, if you wish to win you will heed my words and attack their flank. Stop trolling, we must win for his majesty's sake.

Rodan: What the fuck did you just- Gets hit again.

-

Mothra: Great news guys, our approval rates have gone up this year!

Goji: Great! Probably cuz we've managed to steer clear of major metropolitan zones for a year, but I digress.

Shimo: That is very poggers, my Queen; may this year be just as good as the previous one.

Mothra: ...excuse me?

Goji: Trying very hard not to burst out laughing.

Mothra: Oh dear, the children have been teaching you slang, have they.

Shimo: Indeed. They have also given me a history lesson on what humans call "memes".

Goji: Oh, gods.

Shimo: Big Mood, my King, and I must say, I vastly prefer the "old memes" and Vines over these TikToks and algorithms. They feel more genuine, more natural. I say, "whoever said TikToks are superior, your mom's a ho."

Mothra, Goji: PFFFFFFFT--

[charaznablespeteevee]

Would you share your thoughts on the Gundam you've seen? I added the first one to my list based on your posting about it (mostly the transition Char posting, he sounds like a fascinating character) and am not on Twitter to see your liveposting

Good question!! It seems like you want to know if I'd rec them so I'll answer based on that.

The original Mobile Suit Gundam (1979) absolutely I would rec to literally any anime fan. Both because it is a genuinely good anime, but equally because it's like. You know how people say you have to read the Bible to get all the references to the Bible in literature? It's like that. Gundam is one of the Bibles for anime. It's in everything. And you won't realize this until you watch it.

It's also a very good science fiction show just in general. The major characters are all great, the drama is compelling, and while some of the animation has not aged well, the newtype stuff has some super neat effects that are gorgeous to see on a big screen to this day.

It's also super accessible, the full show is available on Crunchyroll or if you don't want to commit watching a 43 episode show the three compilation movies are on Netflix and are a very solid alternative.

Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam (1985) - they got a big budget upgrade so everything is Bigger and More. More robots, more character drama, more romance, better music, and some bizarre segues into how men are from Mars and women are from Venus. Absolutely worth a watch if you liked the original Gundam because it continues to follow a lot of the original characters.

Mobile Suit Gundam ZZ (1986) - technically "skippable" if you consider 0079, Zeta, and Char's Counterattack a trilogy, which it kind of is. ZZ focuses on an almost entirely new cast of characters and the first half of the show is VERY heavy on the comedy before jumping directly into some of the best anime I've ever seen for the second half. The mood whiplash is kind of divisive among fans. Personally I like it and the characters are great. Worth a watch if you like what you've seen so far.

Char's Counterattack (1988) - caps off the gayass Amuro/Char rivalry and is just an amazing movie in general. Gorgeous visuals, and the final 15 minutes or so are a series of emotional gut-punches the likes of which I've rarely experienced in media. Must watch IMO.

War in the Pocket (1989) - six episode OVA featuring entirely new characters. This is a truly fantastic little series that lets you into the lives of a small handful of likeable characters and how their lives are affected by war. It's Gundam so guess how that goes. I liked it a LOT and recommend it. BONUS: This is a GREAT "starter" Gundam. It's short, it's very good, and you don't need to know anything about Gundam going in. There's a few references to prior lore, but they aren't anything major and a newcomer could easily figure it all out from context.

Mobile Suit Gundam F91 (1991) - this is a movie that was originally going to be made into a TV show and it shows, they stuffed far too much into too little time and it suffers for it. So unfortunately this is the first thing on this list I probably wouldn't rec. That said the characters are pretty fun and the ending is very good, so you can do a lot worse if you're bored or a completionist.

Mobile Suit Victory Gundam (1993) - this is what I'm watching right now! I'm a little over halfway done with it. This is all new characters and there are some interesting new concepts. For example the first twenty or so episodes were set on Earth so you got some really gorgeous scenery during mobile suit battles that made those scenes really visually distinctive compared to say, a battle in space. That said it's yet to really "pull me in" the way most other Gundam series did. For now I'm still waiting to see if it will do that or not.

Witch From Mercury - I'm assuming everyone knows what this is. It's gay as fuck, what can I say, and it's the entire reason I fell down into this Hell to begin with. 10/10

[bangtaninborderland]

Risk It All (20) - Station.

Genre: Chishiya X F!reader, smut, angst, violence, fluff.

Warning: none!

A/N: so it’s back :)) I’m editing the version of this I have on wattpad I did upload this there a few days ago I’m sorry it took me so long to get here! I’m sorry to all my RIA readers that have had to wait so long. I’m going to try and get more RIA chapters out in the next week. I have ideas for the story it’s just a matter of time at the moment.

Ch.19 | Masterlist | Ch.21

You and Chishiya successfully managed to throw together some form of breakfast, various fruit tings being mixed along with some packaged pancakes that you were sure had been stolen from a military base.

You had ate in silence, although it wasn’t awkward. You couldn’t help the way you blushed every time you would look towards him only to see him staring right back at you.

You felt embarrassed every time your face flushed a shade of red, it wasn’t often you were in a space like this alone with him but it was something you could get used to.

“What are you staring at?” He asked, his voice sounded annoyed but you had learned the difference between that of his curiosity and the at of his annoyance.

You straightened your back, narrowing your eyes at him. “You.”

“Why?” He pushed his plate back, turning his attention to the glass of water he had poured.

“Because.” You shrugged, not entirely sure why yourself.

“Focus on your own food, you’re weird.” He scoffed, his demeanour shifting back to how he was days ago.

You couldn’t help but let the sudden change hurt, it was something you should be long used to but you never could adjust to his fluctuating moods. “Why do you call me things like that?”

“Oh come on don’t be so sensitive.” He scoffed rolling his eyes as he cleaned he stood, picking his plate up in the process.

Ouch.

“It’s not being sensitive Chish, you give me whiplash. It’s a genuine question.” You watch his hands word, his thin long fingers working fast as he cleans.

You were sure your question was going to go unanswered especially with the addition of the nickname that he would most definitely protest at some point when he suddenly cleared his throat, making you jump a little. “Did we not discuss this last night.”

“We did but is it bad that I want more?” You sighed, resting your head against your hand.

“What we want doesn’t always come to us in the way we would like, I’m going to get prepared to leave, we should head out soon if you’re still planning to bother me.” And with that he was gone. Empty bag in hand as he shuffled around the small house, gathering whatever it was that he deemed necessary leaving you with nothing but your own swirling tornado of embarrassment and disappointment.

Within an hour you were both ready, dressed in warmer clothes but still adamant on wearing his jacket, you wanted to pull him up on the momentary smile he wore when you came into his eyesight but you didn’t, pushing too much would only ruin the progress you had made with him.

“Ready?” He mumbles, pulling open the door.

You step outside, the air fresh but not cold. “So the station.”

“We should still take back roads, I don’t trust that there isn’t people here who would try to stop us.” He said placing a hand to your back to guide you through the small alley. “I think if we don’t take too many breaks then we could make it by tonight.”

“W-what do we do if we don’t?” It’s pathetic honestly, the way you are a stumbling mess the second he gives you any kind of affection but you’re past the point of trying to seem anything other than yourself.

He looked over to you. “We won’t.”

The alley was short and narrow but you made it through onto a street you hadn’t seen before, the level of overgrow from the plants and the decay to buildings around being more severe than you remember it being just the night before.

“You noticed it too?” You feel strangely comforted that he looks just as confused as you do.

You agree. “Yeah, it’s like it’s aged ten years in the last night alone.”

“What the fuck is this place?” He spits, his head whipping around to check for the unknown.

You know it’s dumb, you know it’s a long shot, you know what you’re about to do could end in a humiliating rejection that would make the rest of this trip entirely too weird but in this moment none of those worries were rational against the fear you were keeping secret, wherever you where, whatever the boderlands were, it was not normal.

“Can… uh…” you trailed off when you noticed him watching you.

The space between you wasn’t great but you were sure he flew to your side. “What?”

You reconsidered before mentally slapping yourself, if you’re going to die at least get the man. “Hand? Can we?”

“I swear you are an actual baby, give me it.” He huffed holding his own out to which you grabbed before he could change his mind.

Even if you wanted to hide your smirk you couldn’t. “I’m not a baby.”

“Tell me that again when you don’t need adult supervision to cross the street.” He laughed quietly.

Despite how much he loved to mock you and how much he actually did mock you it never ceased to be absolutely annoying and utterly endearing. “I don’t need adult supervision, I need Chishiya supervision.”

Should not have said that.

“That is even worse, did you just come up with that? Don’t ever make a joke again.” He deadpanned, his face flat apart from his slightly raised right eyebrow.

He helped you step over a particularly large tree root that had grown out from the ground. “So you want to walk in silence?”

“Preferably.” He grunts, kicking a few rocks out of his path.

You rolled your eyes, of course he would. “Well that’s boring, let’s pay 21 questions”

“What is that?”

“It’s an American thing, I ask a question and then you ask a question.” You explain, a gleeful look to your eye.

Only to be instantly snuffed out with a blunt. “No”

“I’ll be quiet the entire way back.” You bargain, wanting to learn something, anything about the man you’d hopelessly fallen for.

He paused for a second before nodding. “I can refuse to answer.”

“Sure you can, so me first?” You retort.

“No, me.” He continues guiding you through the overgrown greenery, his hand still in yours. “Do you think you will survive?”

You ponder on the unexpected question, you weren’t entirely sure. “I don’t know, I would like to see the people I care for here get home, I want to see them safe, I want to understand what this place is. I can’t do any of that if I die.”

“Okay.” He shrugs as if he doesn’t care but you can tell from the way he is slightly turned towards you that he is listening, he is always listening.

“My turn.” You chance squeezing his cold hand, to which he does nothing. “Would you feel emotional if I died?”

He ignores it, grunting. “Next question.”

“Chish you can’t do that to every question, it’s simple just answer it.” You groan.

“Fine, I think I would be annoyed that you chose to die instead of being useful to me.”

Once again, ouch.

“You’re so cold.” You has a right to be angry but then again you asked for this.

“I actually think it’s pretty warm.”

He knew exactly what you meant. “I hate you.”

“Why do you call me chish?” He questions, taking his turn.

Oh, that was unexpected. “I like it. It makes me feel like we are friends.”

“We are friends?” He chuckles.

You narrow your eyes at him, pulling him to a stop. “You are my friend.”

“Didn’t you tell me you loved me?”

Your face flushed read, heat pooling at the back of your neck. “Y-yeah but I-I mean like.. nothing.” You stumble over your own words, embarrassment too fresh.

“Your turn.” In a way you’re grateful when he reminds you. “Unless you don’t want to play.”

“What’s something that makes you happy?” It wasn’t too invasive.

“I like to read. I like fiction, something that could be realistic but isn’t.”

And just like that you began to learn, you surpassed the 21 questions but neither of you stopped, you walked for hours nearing the station when there was a ruffle behind you. Chishiya pushed you to the side, in an attempt to hide you as he looked around.

“Miss me?” You screamed when soft hands landed on your shoulder from behind, Chishiya rushed to you immediately.

You spun around, the terror you felt disappearing when you see her face. “KUINA?!”

“It isn’t enough to have one of you annoying me?” He asks, scooting closer to your side.

You ignore him, even as he slides his hand back into your own, his thumb caressing the skin lightly. Kuina eyes the action but doesn’t comment, instead wrapping herself around your free arm as you begin to descend the stairs to the underground train tracks.

“Why are you here? How did you find us?” You ask, resting your head against her shoulder as you all take a step in unison.

“I found Ann, she told me about what she had found. She’s on her way too. I knew if you figured it out you’d be heading here so I wanted to join you. Had to make sure you were both okay.” She smiled at you, despite all the anger and fear in this world kuina still had a soft soul.

You couldn’t decipher what it was between Chishiya and Kuina, he didn’t hate her, if anything he seemed warmer to her. He seemed more open with her and a part of you was undeniably jealous. You wanted it to be you whom he shared things with but you held on to the sliver of information he had shared about himself with you in the past few hours. That was yours and you were going to hold on to it.

Once you entered the room you were greeted with the faces of Arisu and Usagi.

“Arisu, I knew you’d find it.” Chishiya greeted coldly.

“Why are you here?” Arisu pulled usagi back behind him, a protective act.

Chishiya nodded towards the screen that had alighted “the same reason as you.”

The screen was bright, something that could be compared to the light of an angel, you were sure that would have been the case if the woman who began to speak didn’t exist.

“Is that?…” Arisu trails off.

“Mira.”

[ryuki-draws]

have you seen the new brave yet? if so, any thoughts or feelings?

I have! Under the cut because I kinda went off the rails, whoops, sorry! Spoilers for both episodes ahead.

I was excited after episode one, the sudden tonal change at the end was a whiplash but it looked promising. I was hoping they'd find a nice balance between the more serious mood and Bravern's character but after just finishing episode 2, I have to say I'm not very optimistic at the moment :( Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a ridiculous joke here and there but if there's a lack of substance to balance it out with, it doesn't work for me.

At the moment Bravern's character feels like the writers looked back at the Brave series and went "Look at those robots with their big speeches, giant swords and overpowered attacks! Look how ridiculous it'd be in the real world!" Honestly, I love how unapologetically whimsy and over the top the Brave series is. I saw Exkaiser's sword three times his height and fell in love. But it works because you just accept it as a part of the world. The world is whimsy. There's magic. There are aliens. Finishing move is a fiery sword chopping the opponent hotdog style with a badass pose and explosions at the end. You don't question it, you suspend your disbelief and enjoy the ride. Taking parts of it - over the top protagonist with all the dramatics - and setting it into more seriously toned show where the world is supposed to have more "realistic" feel, it'd work only if you were making a parody. Which unfortunately, Bravern currently feels like.

Not to mention except the whole "I let him ride inside me" schtick, Bravern and Isami don't have a relationship. Brave Exkaiser and Brave Police J-Decker - shows that follow the "boy and his robot" premise both have their first episodes devoted to building and setting up a friendship between their respective human and robot protagonist. They make you care about them as a team by showing you how much they care about each other. Unfortunately, we don't have this here, or at least not yet. Bravern is superficially obsessed with Isami for the laughs while Isami is traumatized for life and doesn't care who gets into the robot as long as it doesn't have to be him.

What I'm saying is that I want some teambuilding with Bravern and Isami. Let them talk. Share some personal stories. They don't even have to be friends straight up, they can be colleagues and slowly get on friendlier terms. Put them into a situation that requires them to talk and understand each other on a personal level because just getting into the robot is not enough anymore. No innuendos, no jokes, serious talk. A bit of vulnerability, perhaps. And by the end of the show, maybe, they could genuinely call each other a friend.

That all being said, this is all based on two episodes that aired so far. I won't keep my hopes up but if they surprise us and turn it around 180 once again, I'll gladly eat my words. For now, all we can do is wait.