#this chapter is me constantly battling the 'are they too ooc??? they seem too ooc' thought demon

[essieeeeeeeee]

FUCK IT, i’m posting part 1. no title yet, so it’s just “bad touch villain fic” for now until I can get my act together enough to come up with one.

may I just start by saying that I love how we all as a fandom have collectively taken one look at our guy Shaw and thought: this boy needs to get fucked.

on a separate but equally important note, Transporter 2 may have been an absolute train wreck of a movie, but it gave me the gift of some quarter-dressed villain chick licking up the side of Jason Statham's face while he exudes such gay "I'd rather be literally anywhere else than here in this moment" energy, so there's that.

i’m fucking wheezing, man. his face.

anyways, in case it’s not obvious, I’ve stolen the T2 villain couple and threw them into here instead, so if you’re curious about what they look like, feel free to look them up (Gianni Chellini and Lola). this isn’t a crossover, it’s just me being lazy and stealing characters from other movies and playing with them.

a’ight, here we go with part 1. will get part 2 out relatively soon, I think. hopefully. god, I’m so slow at writing, guys.

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The bell above the door chimes merrily as Shaw pushes it open and steps into the diner, breathing in the homey scent of grease and caffeine that wafts out at him the moment he crosses the threshold. He lingers in the entryway - tucking his sunglasses carefully into his front left suit pocket, and letting his eyes drag over the establishment in a quick, practiced once-over.

American, is the first thought that comes to mind. Tacky, the second, though he supposes that’s a given, considering the first.

To be fair, it isn’t the worst diner he’s ever stepped foot in - that dubious honor went to a crusty hole in the wall in New Jersey, the name of which he couldn’t and didn’t really care to recall - but even so, the place isn’t exactly what he’d expected from a meet and greet with the CIA.

It's… lively, for starters. 

Shaw skims his gaze over the laminate red and white booths, the worn looking tabletops sticky from dots of leftover syrup. Bright sunlight peeks through the big windows, now that the storm clouds are dissipating in the frankly oven-like California weather.  Patrons chat loudly from each corner of the room. It's open and cheery and packed with parents and their tiny screaming sprogs, and all of it's already giving him a very sleep-deprived headache.

Shaw can pinpoint every word of the conversation that’s happening six booths to his left, too, which means privacy won't be much of a concept here either.

Strange choice in location, he thinks, for a debrief with top secret government information regarding a world-ending cyber death cult.

Deckard shrugs off the discomfort of it all, though. Partly because he honestly can't muster up enough of a fuck to give, and partly due to the fact that the smell of freshly brewed coffee has been relentlessly beckoning him forward since the initial whiff of it hit him from the doorway. He takes a quick moment to map out the visible exits, more habit than anything - front door, side door, likely a back one through the kitchen if needs must - and, once satisfied with his perusal, makes his way towards the bulky figure in the back right corner that’s stuck out like a mountain among mole hills since Shaw first walked into the place.

“Hobbs,” he mutters wearily, and spares a grimace at the grungy empty seat across the table. He resignedly lowers himself into it anyways.

The lawman’s eyes flick up from the plate in front of him, and he doesn’t look all that surprised; but Shaw knows it’s because he caught Hobbs’ gaze since the moment he stepped out of the rental car in the lot outside.

They’re both just a couple of paranoid bastards like that, he supposes.

And Hobbs looks - good. Better than the last time Deckard's seen him, awkwardly parting ways at a terminal in LAX, the both of them littered with bruises and scrapes that were only a small testament to the absolute shitshow they'd somehow just survived. Now it seems the bigger man's nicks are less than scabs, and the large bruise Hobbs had been sporting across his left temple at the time is nearly gone.

Shaw grudgingly notes that he's also been nursing his own wounds, and steadily healing, if slowly. His right shoulder still twinges when he moves it the wrong way, paracetamol continues to be a three times a day affair, and the spastic tick in his left hand hasn't quite let up since Brixton's electroshock therapy session, but overall - things are better.

His ribs still ache something fierce, though. Fractured, likely. Not that he's about to whine about it.

“Tinkerbell,” Hobbs greets, and then blithely stuffs another bite of the fried monstrosity that sits on his plate into his mouth. Shaw’s grimace deepens. “You’re late.”

“Blame your shitty weather. Flight delay.” Deckard ignores the insult; he's too fucking tired to pick up Hobbs' volley today. Instead, he leans forward, careful to avoid the greasy stain at the edge of the table, and gets straight to the point. “Where’s your contact?”

Because that was the obvious missing piece here, wasn’t it? Shaw didn’t come traipsing all the way to Los Angeles just to witness the Hulk stuff his oversized mug with substandard diner fare.

Two weeks out from Samoa - two weeks of very different, yet equally consequential family reunions, of settling affairs that only a forty-eight hour hotseat on every major news channel in the world can cause - and now it was time to get down to business. Hobbs’ CIA friend had promised intel. Shaw may be reluctant to forego his solo status for another team-up with Ms. America here, but he wasn’t an idiot. Information on Eteon didn’t exactly just rain from the sky.

Nine years of hunting the bastards down on his lonesome taught him that much.

Besides: the fact that Hattie’s life wasn’t on the line with this one left Deckard feeling a mite less prickly. Hobbs may be an annoyance, but he's at least a tolerable one.

“Also late,” Hobbs says, glancing down at his watch. Then the man sighs, and rubs at his temples in a way that makes Shaw wonder exactly what he’s getting into, here. “But he’ll probably show up -”

“- fashionably late and with Starbucks? You bet your perky muscled ass I will, Rebecca.”

Deckard startles a little in his seat, because where the fuck did this arsehole just come from, and his hand reflexively slides over the utensils on the table in front of him, but he smothers the instinctive urge to lodge one into the meat of the thigh that's suddenly appeared at his side. The scruffy, grinning man it's attached to seems to catch the movement, from the way his eyes dart down to the table. He shifts, just slightly, away from Shaw.

Smart fucker.

And no sensible shoes, either. That was interesting.

"Locke," Hobbs says, resigned, scooting in to make a little room as Scruffy slides himself into the seat left behind.

"Aw, don't be like that, Becky," the man whines, and Shaw can't help but mouth a bewildered 'Becky?' at Hobbs with raised brows. Hobbs only drops his head and rubs at his temples a little harder. "You know my delicate emotions can't handle the strain."

"You brought Starbucks. Into a diner."

"Never judge a man for his grande quad nonfat one-pump no-whip mocha habit, Lukas. Gosh, have I taught you nothing?"

"I can sincerely say," Hobbs grinds out, and Shaw is somewhat delighted by the disgruntled twist in the other man's features, "that the only thing you've ever taught me is the true meaning of patience."

"Don't you sass your father like this in front of company, young man. Already in the rebellious teenage phase, Christ, they grow up so fast, don't they?"

"Like mold," Deckard drawls. The disgruntlement on Hobbs' face grows deeper.

"Ha," he says, flatly. "What'aya got for us, Locke?"

"Don't rush me, sweetums, I'm famished," CIA titters, enthusiastically waving down one of the bustling waitresses. Deckard's somewhat grateful for it; he'd murder for a coffee, and that wasn't a metaphor. "And, what, no introduction? The manners on you today."

Hobbs sighs. Shaw honestly can't help but be somewhat amused by the balls this bloke must have, riling up the lawman like this. He's not sure quite yet what to think about Chatterbox - intriguing or just downright irritating - but he can at the very least admit that anyone who can put that level of utter frustration into Hobbs' eyes was worth looking into.

"Shaw, meet Locke," Hobbs says, waving impatiently at the agent beside him, who wriggles his fingers at Shaw in greeting while slurping loudly around his straw. "Locke, meet Harry Potter's uglier cousin."

Deckard scowls.

"Well fuck me sideways, but Dudley sure grew up nice, didn't he?" Locke says, and - Shaw’s actually a bit flattered to see the agent’s eyes flick over him lasciviously.

But before he can quite unravel that one, a server appears at the table edge, shooting a wide, familiar smile in Hobbs' general direction. "Can I get you boys anything?"

Locke straightens in his seat. "I'll take one of everything."

"No he won't," Hobbs snaps, smacking the idiot’s shoulder with the back of his hand.

"You're so right, snookums, gotta watch that girlish figure." Locke rubs his arm with a wince, beaming at the woman, who's started to look a bit flustered at this point, poor dove. "I'll take a number two, extra syrup, extra mayo."

She nods slowly, and turns to Deckard, as though hoping to re-establish some sort of normality.

He takes pity on her. "Coffee, thank you. Black.”

"To match his soul," Hobbs mutters around a sip from his own cup.

"To match my shoe," Shaw corrects with a tight smile. "Going up your arse."

Hobbs snorts. "Think you got that one twisted, son."

"Think you might want to start ponderin' the merits of a wing-tipped enema. Son."

"Jesus, you two are adorable," Locke interjects, resting his chin in his hands as the waitress pours out the coffee and shuffles nervously away. "Like some sort of walking, talking, opposites-attract, enemies-to-lovers, sixty-nine kay slow-burn. Is there a kudos button hiding around here somewhere?"

Shaw can't interpret even half of that. He has a strong inkling that he should probably just shoot the man for it anyway.

"You wanna get to the point, chuckles, before I put your head through this table?" Deckard says. He drums his fingers casually against said tabletop, just to make his own point that much clearer.

Entertaining as Hobbs’ little motormouth of a friend has been, Shaw has just spent the better of his last twenty-four hours on a transatlantic red eye: he's exhausted. Even a verbal spar with Hobbs isn't quite giving him the usual spike of adrenaline it deserves. The only thing he wants more right now than the coffee in his hand is his head on the pillow of a hotel room bed, and CIA here was the last obstacle standing in the way of that particular goal.

Not a safe place to be, generally speaking.

"And oddly in sync with your threats, too," Locke muses. He shifts back in his seat, though, and quickly raises his hands in surrender when Shaw leans forward menacingly. "Right, yes, ok, the point! I, ah. I definitely have one of those."

Finally, he digs into the bag at his side, hastily pulling out a few manila files. He slides them across the table towards the two of them. Shaw lets the murder in his eyes simmer down a bit as he snatches up his own.

“So, the Snowflake,” Locke starts. “Turns out the late professor wasn’t the only one with his hands in that diabolical cookie jar - ”

Scruffy keeps talking, but Shaw stops listening the moment he opens up the folder and skims his eyes down the first page.

Oh, shit, he thinks.

His stomach makes a very abrupt descent to his knees.

Because there, tucked under a paperclip in the top right corner, is a set of photographs. Generic, really. Black and whites, likely mugshots from the look of them. A man and a woman - staring straight towards the camera, little smirks nestled in the corners of their mouths like poorly hidden secrets. Shaw’s gaze traces over the sharp curve of a cheekbone, an aristocratic nose.

The faces staring up at him are jarringly familiar, in the worst possible ways.

The kinds of ways, in fact, that suddenly makes it very tempting to get up from the table and walk away, as quickly as possible.

“-ellini and Lilian Nuata,” Locke says, pointedly tapping the photos in his own file, and it’s as though the world’s volume has abruptly turned back up again. Shaw blinks, then snaps his eyes back up to the two men across the table from him. He blanks his face to cool disinterest when he finds Hobbs staring back at him.

Deckard’s not sure what kind of expression worked its way across his face while he took in the literal goddamn nightmare in his hands, but the perplexed look Hobbs shoots him makes Shaw think it wasn’t as subtle as he would have hoped.

"You know 'em?" Hobbs asks.

And fuck, but that's a loaded question. Shaw can feel his face twist like he’s sucked a lemon. It's completely involuntary, and he hates himself for the tell.

“We’ve… met,” he answers, somewhat honestly.

As if 'met' could ever sum up the amount of sheer overwhelming fuckery their run-ins entailed. Shaw covers his discomfort with a fortifying sip of his coffee.

It curdles in his stomach.

"Oh, good," Locke says, almost obliviously cheerful. "Then you probably know just how pants shittingly insane our Harley Quinn and Joker duo here are."

Bit more than you'd think, Shaw muses with faint dread. 

"Nuata's the big brain behind our little Snowflake," Locke continues. "Andreiko may have invented the capsules that carried it, but the whole organ-melting, blood-spitting, eugenics genocidal virus shebang? That's her bouncing bundle of joy." The man takes another flippant slurp of his latte. The sound grates on Deckard's nerves, but he's feeling a bit too numb to give much of a shit about it.

"And Chellini?" Hobbs asks. The lawman's still shooting curious glances Deckard's way, and Shaw figures that's his cue to stop acting the part of nervous wallflower.

"Muscle," he finally speaks up. The word somehow comes out normally, despite the fact that Shaw's throat is feeling drier than the Sahara. "But also happens to have a brain, unlike someone else I know."

Hobbs' semi-concerned expression falls back into an irritated scowl. That’s good. Deckard doesn't need the man's cautious hovering. 

They may have a somewhat decent, if not entirely amicable working relationship now, but Shaw wasn't about to dump his sordid histories into Hobbs' lap. They weren't friends. 

Deckard didn't really know what they were at this point, actually, but it certainly wasn't that. 

"Nuata can take care of herself, but they're… formidable, together," Deckard continues, before Hobbs can open his mouth. "They're sadists. Like to play with their food before eating it."

"And you've… met, huh?"

Something about Shaw's voice must have been slightly off, because the concern is creeping its way back into Hobbs' eyes. It makes Shaw's skin itch in irritation; he's not some child to be coddled and fretted over. Best to cut that nonsense off right here and now.

"Worked with 'em on a job once." Deckard shrugs, nonchalant, and leans back in his seat. "Briefly. Didn't quite appreciate their methods, so we parted ways."

It's the truth, if a heavily edited one. Either way, the mission is accomplished: the concern vanishes immediately.

"Of course you worked with them," Hobbs snorts bitterly. "Looney tunes here sound just your speed. What kind of job they end up luring you in with, anyway? Selling poison to toddlers? Murdering puppies in Tokyo?"

Ah. Well - ouch.

That one hit somewhat closer to home than likely intended, going by the expression of mild regret on Hobbs' face moments after the words leave his mouth. The sting of it is sudden, surprisingly unexpected, and altogether earned, really. It’s an abrupt reminder that even in the wake of Samoa, there’s still a decent amount of unpacked baggage between the two of them. The kind of baggage that comes with literal skeletons in closets 

Or in fiery, crumpled sports cars, smoldering vengefully on a busy street in Tokyo.

Shaw considers himself a reasonably self-aware person; he already knows he's a piece of shit. Doesn't mean he'll tolerate Hobbs shoving his nose into the fact like some misbehaving dog.

"Fucking hilarious," he snaps, narrowing his eyes. "Don't think that's any of your business, is it?" 

He leans forward, and suddenly Deckard finds that he's angry. The irrational kind: no specific target, no specific cause. Angry at Hobbs - angry at Locke - angry at every little shout and laugh in the air of the diner around him. Absolutely, completely, furiously angry that this file, with those pictures, has been dropped into his lap like a fucking grenade when he least expected it.

"You sure seem real interested though, Tiny. Maybe you get off on that kind of thing, huh? Puppy murder? Kiddy killing?" Hobbs' mouth twists, as though he knows he deserves the retort, but that it's pissing him off nonetheless. Shaw smiles grimly. Good. "'Cause I know a few people who could give you some details -"

“Yeah, I’m sure you know plenty of people -”

"Maybe we could table that steaming pile of inhumanity for another day," Locke interrupts suddenly. "Fascinating as getting in touch with our inner Cruella de Vils sounds, we're on a bit of a time crunch, darlings. Your flight to Spain to bag us Bellatrix Lestrang and her boytoy is in five hours, and we’ve still got some ground to cover here."

Shaw cuts himself off, and reigns in the bright spark of rage still flickering in his head. Closes his eyes for a moment.

What is he even doing?

He opens his eyes again, lets them flick back down to the photographs in front of him with the morbid helplessness of watching an imminent disaster just waiting to occur. Knows, with swift clarity, exactly where the anger is coming from.

Tired or not, Shaw’s aware that the abrupt flare of resentment is an unreasonable reaction to what was meant to be an innocuous comment. He attempts to tamp it back down a bit; difficult, with Hobbs’ narrowed-eyed gaze staring at him from across the table, but do-able.

Professional, he thinks. You’re a fucking professional.

"Spain, huh? Always liked Spain. Good memories," Hobbs says suddenly, voice far too innocent to be anything but deadly. Shaw watches with sharp eyes as Hobbs takes a very pointed sip of his coffee, staring Deckard down. The bigger man places the cup back on the table with a quiet thud, and smiles. "Like when we blew up your brother’s plane, for instance."

On second thought, fuck professional.

"Whoa now,” Locke says, hastily grabbing at Shaw’s wrist with a nervous laugh as the Brit's fingers spasm hard around the cutlery on the table in front of him. Lucky timing - Deckard had half a mind to jab the butterknife in his grip straight into Hobbs' hand, crowded diner be damned. “Let’s just take it easy there, Scarier Spice. We’re all friends here.”

Shaw very deliberately glances down at the hand on his arm, before letting his eyes drag back up to the agent’s.

“You’re gonna want to let go of me,” he says, slowly. “Friend.”

The hand is instantly snatched away, with frankly satisfying speed.

“So aggressive,” Locke says with another nervous little chuckle, fanning himself. “I gotta say, the fearboner I’m getting right now? I’m kinda into it.”

The ache in Shaw's temples gives another sudden, violent throb, and - yeah, no.

He wasn’t throwing himself back into the wreckage that was Chellini and Nuata for the sake of the two men in front of him.

Deckard rises from his seat. "Have fun with your little mission, Hobbs. You go enjoy knocking a couple of pissant nobodies' heads together in Spain like a good dog, while I go find some useful intel to work with."

"Yup," Locke mutters quietly. "Definitely aroused in this moment."

"Locke, shut your goddamn mouth," Hobbs snaps. "Shaw, just - sit down."

And oh, but that's rich. "In case you haven't noticed, steroids," Shaw sneers, leaning forward on the table, "you ain't the boss of me."

Hobbs just rolls his eyes. "Don't be stupid, jackass. This is our best shot at getting these bastards, and you damn well know it."

The DSS agent leans forward himself, hardly backing down from the challenge in Shaw's eyes. And usually, that would get Deckard going - really throw some fuel on the fire - but now it just makes him hesitate.

"Besides," Hobbs adds, and his mouth quirks up into the beginnings of a wry grin. "Can't knock some pissant nobodies' heads together without my sidekick tagging along."

… goddamnit.

Shaw didn’t feel guilt very often, but Hobbs’ playful, friendly little smile was causing an avalanche of it. He falters; stands at the edge of the booth, half-turned towards the doorway, towards freedom, towards his ticket out and away from not-so-old wounds he’d rather take a bullet to the head for than let Hobbs be an audience to.

But. But.

He also wasn’t quite monster enough to allow Hobbs to wander into that horror show on his lonesome.

Slowly, grudgingly, Shaw sits back down.

He does not flush when Hobbs beams at him like the giant fucking golden retriever he is.

“Wonderful!” Locke says, clapping his hands together cheerfully. “Gosh, isn’t this exciting? It’s like we’re a team. Like the X-men or something. Ooooh, I call Wolverine.”

“Locke,” Hobbs says forlornly.

“Yeah, no, you’re right, Shaw definitely pulls off the brooding loner better. I think I’m more of a Jean Grey myself, too.”

“What’s the plan?” Shaw asks brusquely, flipping open the file again. He slides his gaze past the photos this time, and further on to the information on the page beneath.

The pictures still manage to haunt him out of the corner of his eye.

“They’re holed up in Chellini’s private chalet in Almeria. Real fancy stuff,” Locke says. “These two may be balls to the fucking walls bonkers, but they're not stupid. Guards and security out the ass, I’m tellin’ ya. We’ll need you two to go in, extract them, and maybe not destroy half the city in the process, because Big Daddy Government isn’t thrilled at the thought of covering your usual laundry bill.”

“Get in, get the marks, get out. Simple,” Hobbs says, leaning back in his seat.

“You’re simple. This is not,” Shaw snaps, tapping at the folder. “We need an actual plan, not your usual smash-and-grab theatrics.”

“Pretty sure my ‘theatrics’ are what threw your ass in jail.”

“Pretty sure your incompetence is what got me out of it -”

Somehow, an hour later, the smallest semblance of a strategy comes together. The stability of it helps soothe the tension buzzing at the edges of Shaw’s mind, but even so, it lingers, like a bad taste on the back of his tongue. He traces his fingers along the black and white images in front of him for a brief moment as CIA pays the food bill, before forcefully flipping the folder shut.

"Still one thing I need to get straight,” Deckard says, gaze suddenly pinning Locke to his seat. “You had me fly to Los Angeles, from London - just to fly back to Spain?"

The murder must be back in his eyes, Shaw thinks, because there's certainly a new hint of fear in Locke's.

"Ok, to be fair," Locke starts, edging back in his seat slightly, "one: I didn't actually know you were in London, because two: you're a very naughty, sneaky boy who happens to be incredibly difficult to track down, and did I mention I have a very delicate bone structure?"

Locke's voice climbs increasingly higher as he presses further back into the booth - likely because Shaw was leaning across the table with the intent of strangling him.

“Shaw, stop scaring the rabbit,” Hobbs says, shoving at Locke’s shoulder as the man pushes himself into Hobbs’ space. “Locke, let me the hell out of this booth.”

Shaw slips out of the booth himself, but not without a withering glare in Scruffy’s direction.

They make their way out of the diner, Locke scurrying off with rambling goodbyes that Shaw doesn’t bother listening to, and the sudden wave of heat as he steps out of the doors with another chime of bells above them is almost nauseating. Deckard grimaces at the bright blue sky as Hobbs siddles up next to him.

"You good?" Hobbs says, and bumps his shoulder awkwardly against Shaw's own.

And the move is just - so fucking Hobbs, so endearing (though Shaw would commit a fantastic amount of homicide before admitting that fact), that Deckard slowly, reluctantly deflates. The still-smoldering anger finally winks quietly out of existence, and just leaves him feeling exhausted in its stead. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Fine," Deckard mutters, glancing away with an irritated little sniff. "Just -"

He looks down at the file in his hand. Thinks of the photographs.

Trepidation hits him like a roundhouse kick to the gut. 

"- tired," he finishes dully.

Hobbs pats him on the shoulder with a big hand, and then just. Leaves it there. Like they're pals, or something. Shaw hesitates, but decides not to shrug it off.

It's ridiculous that it helps his nerves somewhat.

"Yeah, well. I've got a guest room, if you need to crash for a couple hours before the flight."

The offer is unexpected - possibly for both of them, going by the slight discomfort Shaw can pick out of Hobbs' posture, and the way he won't quite meet Shaw's eyes after - but Deckard honestly considers it for a moment. 

Only a moment, though. "Already booked a place," he lies through his teeth.

Fat fucking chance he'd be able to get any sembleance of sleep, with images of mugshots seared into his mind. Shaw knows himself; in all likelihood he'll find a place to kip out, with enough caffeine to hotwire an elephant, and drown himself in research for the next three hours.

Preparation never really helped when it came to Chellini and Nuata, but it sure as hell would make him feel less like he was throwing himself into the lion's den. Again.

"Right," Hobbs says. He gives a little squeeze to the shoulder under his hand, before letting it fall back to his side. Shaw refuses to let himself acknowledge that the sudden lack of pressure there is a disappointment, because he's not a fucking child. "I should head out. Gotta find someone to watch Sam while I'm gone."

Ah. The daughter. Strange, to suddenly remember that Hobbs was a man in charge of nurturing something. "Wheels up in four, then," Shaw says, slipping his sunglasses back onto his face in the California sunshine. "Just don't bitch to me about your leg room this time, Gigantor."

"Not all of us suffer from being vertically challenged, short stop."

"Just mentally, in your case," Shaw says, and can't help the corner of his mouth from ticking up slightly at Hobbs' snort of laughter.

“Sure,” the big man says with a huff. “Guess I’ll see you in España, tonto.”

And with that Hobbs walks off with cheery little wave, Shaw following him with his eyes as the lawman hefts himself onto the motorbike and departs with a roar of the engine. Shaw just shakes his head, and sighs.

Chellini and Nuata. Jesus fucking Christ, he thinks.

Well.

If nothing else, at least he'll have back-up this time.

[aquaburst3]

Unpopular opinion, but to be completely honest, I'm not a fan of of Chapter/Book 6 in Twisted Wonderland.

I'm glad that Idia's not doing inhumane human experimentation on them constantly. (Honestly, if that was the case, would've instantly dropped the rest of the game. That sorta shit automatically turns me off, especailly from a "morally grey" character.) But it still has a fair share of problems.

It seems to be suffering from the same problem that arcs like Savanaclaw has where it's forcing the movie plot onto the story, even when it doesn't make sense, but it's even worse here. The existence of this new worldbuilding came straight the fuck outta nowhere without any foreshadowing whatsoever. When the hell was STYK, Olympus or any of these things ever name dropped? Not until now.

A lot of the new worldbuilding doesn't make no sense when you stop and think about it. Why hasn't anyone heard of STYK outside of the fae? Someone would've blown the whistle on it ages ago out of spite or getting dirt on them, especailly if it's the byproduct of a huge company. If Hades existed in this universe, wouldn't these places already exist as they would in mythology and everyone would be Hellenistic? If superpowers existed for centuries, wouldn't it be more like the BNHA or Avatar universes where they are THE NORM? If people with magical powers fucked each other for eons and the gene is persumetely dominate, then that would mean that it would be passed down for so long that it overtakes everything else. (Honestly, this is the reason why I changed a lot of the worldbuilding in my fic series. While it's not as bad as Descendants where it makes absolutely no sense, the worldbuilding in the game is still pretty bad. This is not touching on the bizarre aspects of it from before like Biare Valley being on par with the Amish and being isolated for no reason or the dumb place names on the official map. Being a worldbuilder, I want to alter things so they line up better.)

A lot of the characters are still acting OOC. Idia is acting like total dumbass. Why isn't he more worried about more people coming to free them? He kidnapped a prince and a celebrity in broad daylight, which would have consequences. Why aren't the others trying to break out? Sure, these guys are playing video games now. (Which I still don't get and makes little sense). But we can't forget that before Idia was trying to stress them out by putting through battles where they fought their friends. They are giving up far too easily. It just doesn't line up with any of their characters outside of Leona to a small extent. Even he comes off as a guy would do something if his life was in danger. Jamil has a younger sister back home, so wouldn't he want to break out to be with her again?

Idk, I'm still waiting until the end to see how I rate this. But rn, it's not looking good.

[sultrysirens]

Story Time

Out of nowhere I decided to share a bit of my story as a fanfiction writer, starting with my original introduction into the profession. It’s going to be a long one, but hopefully, and inspiring one. Skip if you’re not interested.

NOTE: This includes spoilers for certain anime and fandoms. If you don’t know Dragonball Z or Inuyasha, specifically, you’ll be quite lost.

The Beginning

How everything started was just through surfing the net. Back then my interest was Dragonball Z. I was 14. I had only had the internet for a few months, so everything about it was new. This was 20 years ago, now, back in 2000. I used Yahoo! for all my searches. Google had not yet been born. Fanfiction.net was the main hub where all these amazing stories were birthed, and yet at this point I had not yet found it.

What I found, first, was a fanfiction writer who had a website. Geocities, I believe. I can’t recall how I found it, exactly, except that I had only just learned about Bulma and Vegeta getting together and thought they were an amazing couple. I looked up art, and it led me to this site. I can’t recall the site’s name anymore, but I remember the tagline for it was something like, “Bulma and Vegeta’s Cove.”

One thing I can distinctly recall is a small gif in one corner of the main page, displaying a chibi Vegeta with a microphone in one hand, going between 2 or 3 singing poses. It was cute.

This site was coded in such a way that it linked directly to fanfiction.net, displaying the owner’s many, many, many fanfictions in an embedded window. The stories were largely explicit, included sex and, in a few stories, rape, all of them AUs from all the rest. But each had a singular goal: Bulma and Vegeta’s romance, how they ended up getting together.

Some of the stories I remember very clearly. Others have faded. Some were modern AUs, one included dimension-hopping via a magical device Bulma created and recharged every 24 hours (sound familiar, anyone?), and some were painfully OOC but in very sweet ways.

I devoured these stories. There must have been two dozen, with most of them multi-chapter works. And, eventually, I started to notice the format with these stories, how it seemed to be a miniature explorer window within the website. Eventually, I clicked on the mini website and was given a full introduction to fanfiction.net and its massive breadth.

Back in those days, fanfiction.net (or FF.net, as it was usually called) allowed explicit content. And this I looked for very directly. I enjoyed the “lemons” more than anything, easily reading the most ridiculous stories just for the porn therein.

Eventually, I figured it out. I understood fanfiction and what it meant. And though I’d only been using a computer for a few months, I started writing.

It was a painful process at first. Think back to your first months with a keyboard and how difficult it was to get used to the format, how to move your fingers. I had to stare directly at the keyboard to write anything and it was a pain, a slow-going endeavor of passion.

My first fanfictions were Dragonball Z, unsurprisingly. I made a few silly ones, a few serious ones, a few sexual ones. At 14, with no grasp of the anatomy of sex, I was writing porn, using the porn I’d already read as resources. I didn’t know what a clitoris was, but I knew ladies apparently went nuts when men tongued them, so that’s what I wrote.

Eventually I got my first hit: Temptation. It was a Bulma/Vegeta story. I don’t remember it very clearly, and this is probably for the best. The plot, as I recall, was Bulma getting sick and Vegeta having to be her nurse for a time. Eventually she got worse and worse, until she recognized why she was sick: she’d cut herself one night with a device that’d had a compound on it. I can’t recall what the compound was designed to do, but the short version is it made you feel weaker and sicker until you increased your physical activity to burn it out.

This led to wild sex. Like, very wild sex. For hours. My lack of experience evidently was not a consideration; I was given compliments by the dozens. I’d done good.

And now I was addicted.

The Second Hit

I was 16 now. We’d be moving out of my childhood home soon, but I didn’t know this yet. I’d been spending a lot of time with my sister, who was 26, and soaking up Adult Swim shows on her cable. Inuyasha was my new obsession, as well as a liberal amount of Trigun. I lived, slept, ate, and breathed these shows. My head was constantly alight with ideas, concepts, and desires. I wrote near-constantly.

Through this, I managed my second big hit: Transformations.

It’s been a long time, now, and I can’t recall the beginning as much as the ending. I think perhaps I called it something else at the start.

The premise was simple: Kagome, the main character, suddenly transforms into a half-demon, a hanyou, after a demon bites her in battle. I remember that initially I was just writing bullshit; I had no filter and didn’t edit or delete anything. What I wrote got posted verbatim. And, at first, it was cringe-worthy.

I can distinctly recall two things: first, Sesshomaru -- Inuyasha’s full-demon elder brother -- caught Kagome’s scent and investigated and had difficulty resisting her. She was a half-wolf demon, and he was attracted to that. Earlier she and Inuyasha were together in a cave, and her transformation had given her a tail -- which she didn’t like. She chased it, trying to catch it and rip it off.

That’s when the accusations started coming in.

Out of nowhere, and totally unexpectedly, I was getting a slew of comments accusing me of copying another popular fanfiction. I’d legitimately never heard of it, and I had to search it out. I remember reading the first chapter or two and feeling surprised; they were very similar, to the point where I couldn’t blame anyone for thinking I’d copied it.

This was a case of great minds thinking alike, or so I said at the time. I was amused more than anything, but it was clear the accusations weren’t going to stop. Eventually I deleted the story and started over. I’d learned a bit in those few chapters I’d posted and decided that I didn’t really want the events to unfold the way they had, so starting over sounded like a great idea.

And it was.

Now came Transformations as it remains today. The beginning is the same -- Kagome is bitten by a demon and transforms into a half-wolf demon -- but the events following take a different turn from the original.

It was a monster of a hit. I got multiple comments and reviews on every chapter, and I can remember doing this thing for a long time in which I threaten the readers at the end of each chapter with various weapons, only to have the weapon backfire somehow and hurt and/or kill me. The readers seemed to enjoy it, and soon they were suggesting new weapons for me to use.

I loved it.

Eventually the story ended at 64 chapter, but back then my chapters weren’t nearly as long as I write them now, and the final chapter was just a family tree of sorts leading the characters from Feudal Japan to modern day. It was a great, beautiful monster and I had drawn dozens of pictures to go along with it.

It was actually through this that I decided I needed a better place to post my art and thus discovered DeviantART.com. That’s been my main art gallery ever since, around 16 years now (I believe I created it in 2004, a year after I started the fic). If you go there and head all the way back to the first images I posted, you’ll find all of that art remaining even today.

It’s...pretty bad. X’D

But the story doesn’t end there. I wanted my fic to have a greater reach, so I started looking for more websites. I found MediaMiner.org, which was appealing because it hosted both written works and art. And once Transformation was finished, the story concluded, I found I couldn’t quite let it go.

So I did something I’ve not done since: I created an alternate ending.

Titled Changing Lives, this story picked up after chapter 28 of Transformations and went a different way. It treated the story of Transformations as just that: a story, written by Kagome, which Inuyasha read while she was gone one day. He was thunderstruck by it, given it so clearly screamed “I love you” and was full of romance -- and sex.

This led to them getting together, but soon thereafter, tragedy struck.

Kagome was kidnapped on her way home from school. By the time Inuyasha found her, she’d been gang-raped and discarded.

The story very deeply included time travel and revenge aspects from that point on, and I can also recall giving the character Miroku a reincarnation as a detective. He was put on the case, and with Inuyasha’s help, had all the men arrested -- there were seven of them.

Then they started dying.

Inuyasha wasn’t doing this, but he was happy to allow it to happen. The detective did his job per the law, trying to keep the criminals safe as they started dropping like flies. The killer left notes written on the cell walls in the criminal’s own blood, though I can’t quite recall the sequence anymore.

What I do remember is this: the first one read, “He touched her first.” The rest followed that sequence, killing the men in order -- second, third, fourth, etc. I remember one said “hurt her”, one said “made her cry”, and so on.

Eventually, the truth was discovered: Inuyasha was killing them, but not “young” Inuyasha. “Old” Inuyasha. The one who’d lived through the centuries. And his story was the most tragic of all.

In his time, Kagome had been raped and her rapists arrested, as normal. Then, years later, they were freed, having served their time, and immediately they tried to track her down. She was pregnant at the time with Inuyasha’s child. When she saw she was being chased, she jumped down the well back to his time, and the men followed her.

They traveled through time with her but had no idea. They killed her there, then climbed out, and Inuyasha arrived too late to help. But the men were there, confused and lost, and the blood of his wife and child were on them. He slaughtered them all.

But now the well had ceased functioning. He couldn’t return to her time. And, at first, he was just...sad. He mourned. Then, with time, he began to plan. For five centuries, he planned.

His plan was to keep Kagome from ever getting raped. Alas, he failed in this, so instead he decided to get pre-revenge and kill the men while they were imprisoned. He succeeded, but along the way grew...exhausted. By the time he murdered the last man, he had little will left to do so.

But he finished it. For her.

Then he showed himself to Kagome and Inuyasha, explaining what had happened. And he wished them well.

Changing Lives was significantly shorter than its predecessor, only 35 chapters, but I felt it was the better story, overall. I never made art for it, I don’t think, but it was more emotional.

To Present Day

I kept writing, on and off, ever since. Any time I got sufficiently involved in a story, my mind immediately began making my own stories for it. Movies, shows, video games; nothing remained untouched by my mind. I made stories for Labyrinth, Dragon Age, Trigun, Spyro, Jak & Daxter, Naruto...the list went on. I started posted on a third site, adultfanfiction.net (comprised specifically of explicit stories), and I started existing solely on my stories and the feedback I received from them.

I got better. And better. And better. I started looking back on my first stories, my first “hits”, and cringed at the horrendous grammar and articulation of my youth. But it was nostalgic as well, bringing back fond memories of writing on my home computer before we had internet and then rushing to my sister’s with a 3.5″ disc to post them via her internet.

I had a friend around this time, named Leila (Lee-lah), and drew and wrote together. We came up with original stories and though we never really posted them, we had so much fun it didn’t matter. Mostly we talked and drew together, and while I considered myself the better artist, I considered her far better at clothes designs.

Then...a dry spell. I went into college at age 20 and there I met my husband, Eric. He was 17 at the time. And he introduced me to so many more worlds than I’d known before, including the aforementioned Jak & Daxter series and the Sims 2.

Years passed. I still wrote from time to time, but it wasn’t such an obsession as it’d been before. If I had a good enough idea, I’d write it, but I tried to keep my things to oneshots. I posted many such stories on adultfanfiction.net, and I generally got positive reviews and ratings. In the meantime we were more addicted to World of Warcraft, us two and a few friends, and we played that often.

Eventually I slowed down. Time blurred together. I had a lot of good stories, but no major hits. Then came Megamind, and with it, an interesting idea that a lot of people took a liking to: Megamind as the indirect hero, and Metro Man as an abusive spouse of Roxanne. I titled it Bad to be Good, and it was an incredible story.

I started counting words with this one, only posting chapters when they reached around 6,000 words.

The story was a very serious one. It struck cords with a lot of readers, one in particular saying it helped her through some similar times with her abusive husband. We eventually became friends and remain to this day. (She since divorced him, so don’t worry about her. ♥)

Ultimately I never truly completed that story. I remember getting up to 12 chapters and then having difficulty figuring out how to proceed. I used to open the Word document from time to time, check what I’d written, and try to edit things or continue it, but it never really took. Eventually I abandoned it, but luckily the 12th chapter was a softer ending of sorts, so my readers were satisfied.

Then came the Marvel films and, with it, a resurgence in an activity I’d long since stopped participating: roleplaying.

The Crazy Train

It started simple enough. The Avengers just came out, and I was starting to see Facebook RPs popping up between the characters. Curious, I tried to find the pages in question but couldn’t locate them. I did, however, come to find out that there were dozens of pages dedicated to the main characters, alone, with dozens more popping up by the month.

Eventually I stepped in. I’d grown to love Loki’s character and subsequently found he had a canonical wife, Sigyn, but hadn’t found any pages for her. So I made one. Without checking with the other RPer, I just threw myself into a Loki page and, thankfully, that Loki accepted his “wife’s” presence.

We had fun. And our group steadily grew. A Thor, another Loki, and Odin, a Sleipnir, and a whole slew of original characters joined the ranks. I, too, began adding more pages to my roleplays, starting with Narfi and Vali -- Loki and Sigyn’s twin sons.

At the start, these two shared a page. Then, when it became increasingly obvious that people had their favorite of the two boys, I separated them. Funny enough, Vali started off as the clear favorite (he was flirty AF), but Narfi steadily became more so.

Their relationships grew. They both fell in love. They were both tricked by a succubus, giving each an unwanted child at different intervals. Narfi soon had a family of his own, as his lover had an adopted daughter and he was given a daughter of his own.

We spent years here, six or seven I think, just roleplaying with one another. Our group grew and shrank as people joined our circles or left it. There was drama in and out of the roleplay setting. Friendships were forged and abandoned. At one point a Thor page (titled Fatty Thor) targeted me for my roleplay choices and tried to get his followers to harass me. Eventually he left, deleting his page, and our RPs continued without him, never addressing his disappearance.

Then Ragnarok struck -- but not the film’s Rangarok. No, this was worse. We were impatient to have the event occur, me in large part because the mythology says that Vali slays Narfi during the sequence and I couldn’t wait to put all that pain into writing. But what really kicked this off was a friend’s page getting repeatedly deleted.

Sleipnir.

In this RP setting, Sleipnir was a fully intelligent horse capable of speech and even transforming for short periods of time into a humanoid form. He fell in love with a half-demon woman and they had a son together, a centaur named Grani. And then his page kept vanishing.

Initially, we believed the page was reported because there was a rape sequence between his character and the half-demon, though -- and this is imperative -- the two RPers had discussed this in detail before agreeing to the RP. A great deal of thought went into it before they started the roleplay.

And yet, Sleipnir’s page went down.

The RPer made a new one, and that too, went down a short time later. This was disheartening for her, and though we all did our best to help, even creating the page for her in case it was her account getting it flagged, the pages kept getting deleted. The only cause we could work out was that Microsoft just came out with a Sleipnir program of some form and were removing all other pages with that name regardless of content.

So we kicked off Ragnarok and wrecked our Facebook RP world, killing off some of the characters and leaving others behind. We moved platforms, taking our remaining world to Gaia Online, but it wasn’t to be.

Though the RPs increased in quality while there and we created avatars for each of our characters and it definitely helped the process, we just couldn’t keep it up. We were too disheartened for our friend and how things had ended on Facebook.

Slowly but surely, our RPs died. We tried just once more by moving to a new forum called Valucre, but we couldn’t quite get steam going there, either. Eventually all of the RPs died, most of them without conclusions. In some ways, we mourned the loss.

But our remaining group, a total of four of us, remained friends for a great while longer. Three of us, in particular created this very blog some years later with the purpose of posting all of our NSFW works here.

Art, writing, roleplays, etc; this blog was meant to be a joint page to display all of our wicked wiles.

For several months we didn’t post much. Kyone did the most posting during this time, art for her favorite yaoi couple of the time, both NSFW and SFW, and it was moderately popular. Then came my contribution: The Dancer.

The Resurgence

To this day, I’m not sure what really got me back into TMNT. I know I was tired of RPs but wanted the stories to continue, and thus did I begin writing fanfictions again after years of never touching them -- or, at least, never posting them.

The Bayverse movies kicked this off. I’d always loved TMNT, since I was a kid, but the Bayverse films put them in a new light. They weren’t anthropomorphic turtles under 5′ tall anymore, naked 100% of the time. They were tall, big bois, more humanoid, and more like hybrids. I loved them. I wanted them.

I wanted them to be loved.

At the start, I was under the false belief that they didn’t get much love -- i.e., no romance. I especially believed Raphael didn’t get much affection, being such an angry and brash character. Oh, how wrong I was, lol.

Thus did I start with Raphael.

At the beginning I was inspired by a story written by another page, @teradoration, featuring a merman. I wasn’t too interested in the story, personally, as it’s m|m and I’ve never enjoyed those types of stories, but the inspiration came from the fact that it was a multi-chapter work -- on Tumblr.

So I decided to write some porn.

Initially, the idea was to make a short story, something like 10 chapters. I put thought into it, into the character I wanted to create and introduce, into her appearance and history and passions. I considered Raphael, his personality, and crafted a character designed to intrigue and challenge him. Then I looked at both popular and unique character tropes and the kinds of characters I’d made and turned in another direction.

Thus was Jocelyn born, a half-black, half-Polynesian ballet dancer with blonde hair and freckles. And, at first...it was a dead story. No one saw it. No one liked it. No one took a chance on Jocelyn.

For nearly a year, I wrote chapters to an empty audience. I tried not to let it get me down, but the consensus seemed clear: no one was interested in reading it. Still, I’d started it and come to love the characters very dearly, and so I continued. For my sake, for their sake, I continued.

Then came my first big break: tmnttrashcan. If you’re wondering why I didn’t @ that one, it’s because it’s been deactivated. But this amazing woman found my story, loved it, and began sharing it. And because her blog was one driven by reblogs and gifsets, it was far more popular than this one despite its younger age.

And thus did The Dancer begin drawing attention, fans, and feedback. Thus did I finally feel as if this labor of love was validated, that I wasn’t posting just for me anymore. People were enjoying the story, and in return, I poured more effort and love into it.

This is how I thanked my readers: with better content. More drama, more emotion, more love, more heartache, more sex, more everything.

Even before this happened, however, my head had continued the story far into the future. I made a sequel -- The Dragon -- before I’d even had a concept of The DJ. But in this sequel I’d begun laying the groundwork for something in between the two, and through this I began creating Lisa.

With Lisa, I wanted to create a character that fit more securely with the next turtle on my list: Michelangelo. Rather than opposing the turtle in many ways, as Jocelyn does with Raphael, I wanted Lisa to mesh very easily with him.

The DJ had begun.

For a time, tmnttrashcan’s admin and I were fantastic friends. We talked often, over text and over voice chatting. I told her ideas I had for the future, plans going years down the line both in and out of the story, and even let her read what I’d written of The Dragon thus far. She loved it, every last word, and heaped praise at me.

I loved this woman very deeply. I’d tell her as much from time to time, and she echoed the sentiment.

Then she simply...vanished. She stopped talking to me, stopped responding. Eventually I asked her if we were no longer friends. She never answered.

It was heartbreaking.

Soon thereafter, I was also left behind by Kyone. She unfriended me. And then Tumblr decided to ban all NSFW content, so in order to preserve this blog, I was forced to delete all her NSFW art. And when she went further and removed herself from the blog, I went further too and removed all of her posts. But it wasn’t easy.

It’s been a few years since then and I remain heartbroken. We’d been friends for over a decade. I saw her grow up (we met when she was 16), saw her graduate, saw her go through schooling and jobs and hard times. Between her, myself, and Fluxx, we’d amassed a mountain of great times and greater stories. We’d been a sisterhood in all but blood. We’d even called ourselves such.

To this day there remains a hollow place in me. In short, I’ve been jaded. My whole life, I’d seen this pattern repeated: I make a friend, we become close, then they abandon me, usually within a year or two. But with Fluxx and Kyone, I’d truly believed this pattern had finally been broken. I’d believed I finally had friends for life.

Between the loss of tmnttrashcan and Kyone, however, I learned a hard lesson: not to trust so deeply.

This was repeated twice more before I gave up on sharing. With Blue Blood, twice I made a close friend, got to the point of talking near-constantly and voice chatting. Twice I shared previews of what was to come. Once I even told the entire story, everything, every last detail I have planned to the end of the series. And twice, after hearing so much of the tale, the friend vanished from me. They stopped responding. I was talking to air.

It hurt.

By now you may be wondering why this is included in my fanfiction autobiography. Well, because it spurred me on. If I can’t keep friends for long, then I’ll keep my own company. I won’t let myself down. I decided to focus on my stories, for in this I am always the most important person. I am the one who will never be abandoned. I am the creator, the god, of the worlds I shape for the entertainment of others. Readers may come and go, as much a slave to their interests as I am, but I remain. For those who stay and those who arrive later, I remain.

There is a power in this which cannot be matched, but more so, there’s an enjoyment and responsibility. My stories are unfinished but demand an ending from a slew of followers. And so I keep writing, even though the stories are largely complete in my own mind. I know how they end. I know how they intertwine, how they connect. I know the backstage dancers, how the plot lines link together, where each thread is leading; my readers do not.

And so I continue writing, even as I remain cautious about how much I share.

To The Future

What comes next is largely unknown, even to me. I have many, many, many stories, both in original settings and fandoms. I work on some of them from time to time, in between trying to focus on my bigger hits. Sometimes I just open one and begin reading what I’d already written, refreshing my memory and contemplating where I want the story to go.

I’ve considered other forms of storytelling as well. Otome games have my interest, specifically, because of the nature of them; a single protagonist and multiple love interests with their own unique tales to tell. I love that format and have tried crafting numerous stories for them, but they’ve yet to gain any real ground.

This is partly because it’s a huge undertaking. It’d require more than myself to get them made. I can do art and writing, but I know little to nothing of coding. I’m unsure how I would turn words and images into a novella-type game. Originally I wanted Fluxx and Kyone’s help -- Kyone because I felt her art is better than mine, and Fluxx because she has experience coding. I tried to get them involved. They did not get involved.

As far as otome games are concerned, I am alone.

But this is fine. I am a better writer than anything else -- better than I am an artist, a gamer, or a friend, based on my history. So I’ll continue to write. And if I never truly create an original story, if I never get published, if I never receive royalties for my years of painstaking effort, then so be it.

I made people happy. I made people gush and scream and keyboard-smash. I made people laugh and cry. I made people fall in love with that which I love.

That’s enough.

I’ll see you soon with more updates. My stories are not yet finished.

- Nightshade

[sad-panda-dib-blog]

Just gonna drop this here and run. ;;; v ;;;

Okay, so like, some of you guys have been asking for me to upload some of my works here, so here I go at last. Please don't hurt me. ; v ;

My name is Pat and I'm one of the original authors for that god-awful ZADR fanfic, "ZADR Orange." It's likely one of the cringiest fanfics I've ever written in my life, but like, also the thing that has been feeding my soul for the past 10 years of working on it. The beginning is rushed and terrible, the characters are OOC, and my writing from back then is just...blah. HOWEVER it's become something I can't let go of and so I continue to plague the fandom with its continued existence even after all these years of posting. Some people have come to love it, others hate it to its core, but for me, it's that thing that has given my life purpose (as stupid as that may sound). It's pushed me to make improvements in my writing, even if you can't necessarily see those improvements in the earliest chapters of the work (and by earliest chapters, I mean like the first 150 of them. Yep, that's how long it took me to not suck as much as I did back then). To this day, I continue to upload new content and VERY SLOWLY make revisions to its beginning. Perhaps someday it will be a halfway decent work of fiction in the fandom and not a target for criticism as mentioned in this hate Wiki:  https://toxicfandomsandhatedoms.miraheze.org/wiki/Invader_Zim_Fandom (which I really can't argue with. XD It is pretty cringe-worthy).

There are like a million other fics posted in this fandom that far surpass anything that I could ever hope to write, but still, I strive to improve my works constantly. I know I've gotten a lot of love and support from some fans over the years, but my inner critic is always there to remind me that if I hadn't been the one to write it myself, I likely would have passed it up as a reader simply for its rushed formatting, dialogue, and word flow. Also for the copious amounts of pointless filler word vomit I tend to get into because I think it's interesting at the time only to realize later that I was simply rambling. But ah well. That's just how it goes sometimes, especially when writing an RP (Oh, did I mention that this story was originally a role play with another person? Yeah, there's that too. Since I was the one writing our parts into narrative though, I feel solely responsible for butchering what could have been a decent story if I just hadn't rushed the beginning bits so much). Umm...But yeah, anyways, moving on.

As I mentioned above, this story has also been accused of portraying the characters as WAY OOC from the show. Once again, my fault because I have a tendency towards writing Dib as a whiny little overemotional bitch most of the time. Sorry about that. ; v ; It's a preference in most of my writing with him though. To me personally, what makes ZADR so appealing in the long run, is exploring the emotional torment of somebody who has been called crazy all his life. Dib is just the saddest little stubborn panda bear in all of my writing and I heavily prefer works in which he is the submissive to Zim. Like, Zim is adorable in his own right, but I can't imagine him simply surrendering his dominance to Dib, regardless of how much taller Dib might ever grow. Plus, in my head, Dib will always be that hopeless virgin type of character (even if Zim IS fucking his brains out half the time in my works). Zim's not as clueless as he may seem sometimes either. Like, he's lived a whole other life long before he came to Earth. I imagine he's seen some things and experienced more in his life than Dib has, even if one of the main consensus is that Irken's mature more slowly than humans. Irken society is very different from human society in my mind so I imagine some things are more normal for Irkens than other things (but I won't get into that here. That's a post for a different point in time.)

Whoo boy, this is getting long, and I haven't even posted a link to the actual story yet. ; v ; I guess what I'm trying to say though is that I have a very personal way of viewing and portraying the characters in my work. Perhaps that's why it gets both positive and negative feedback from people. I don't expect everybody to agree with or even like my work, but I simply ask that it not be crushed into the ground for its flaws. Above all else, I write my stories for fun and to see my own improvement. And yes, I know it may seem weird that I'm so paranoid about advertising a work that's been present in this fandom for YEARS now (especially as it used to be advertised quite a lot back when I was still writing it with my co-writer), but let's just say this fandom has left me with some pretty nasty battle scars in the past. I know the haters will always exist and they're better off ignored, but I've had to see close friends come and go from this fandom as a result of that hate. I don't understand the fixation some people have with drama in this fandom. Yes, you're entitled to an opinion, but please don't shove it in other people's faces. It's like some people enjoy intentionally being assholes online and trying to ruin other people's fun. I've tried to distance myself from that sort of hatred because I don't need that sort of stress in my life any longer. But in doing so, it DOES make it harder to interact with the nicer fans out there/continue posting my works, regardless of how long I've been in the fandom. Also, I was kind of an attack dog back in the day when it came to defending some of my friends, which kind of put me in a bad light to some people in the fandom for a while. Whoops. My bad. As much as I hated that sort of drama, I was always the first to jump in and make an ass of myself when it came to defending my friend. Hahaha. <XD

Gah! I'm stalling now. Here's my shit for those of you who were asking: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5995185/1/ZADR-Orange

(This links to the PG-13 version uploaded on Fanfiction.net. An adult version is also available for 18 + viewers over on DeviantART).

https://www.deviantart.com/dib-the-hybrid/art/ZADR-Orange-Chapter-001-277634496

And for those of you who weren't asking for it, sorry to spam the ZADR tag with my bullshit. ; v ;

Oh, and while I'm at it, since this Tumblr account IS a joint account with another one of my co-writers, Sass (Sassafrass002 over DeviantART. Go check her out! Her art is amazing and she deserves all the love in the world for it. <3  https://www.deviantart.com/sassafrass002), here's another set of links to yet another ZADR roleplay we've been writing together for years now (almost as long as ZO, actually). :> We just recently posted chapter 100 of our story and have so much more to add onto it. Once again though, we do lean towards a softer side of ZADR so it'll likely be OOC to many. I feel this work to be at least a little less cringe worthy though. :> Plus she does amazing preview images to go along with the chapters.

(PG-13 FanFiction.net Version: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7311546/1/Dib-Is-Sick )

(18+ DeviantArt Version: https://www.deviantart.com/sassafrass002/art/Dib-is-Sick-Chapter-1-254253924 )

I might advertise some other stories of mine at a later point in time, but for right now, these two are the ones that I've invested the most time into. They've kept my mind occupied with ideas for them for years, and I doubt I'll ever be able to move on from them until they're actually complete. (Technically DIS IS complete. Just not all posted yet. But we have a sequel in the works currently that I hope we eventually get to posting also! :>)

Enjoy! :> ...Or not. ; v ; I think I'm going to run away and hide now.

[faunusrights]

‘AFTER THE FALL’ - LIVEREAD II

Part I (prologue to chapter three) here!

According to other people reading this alongside me, I have yet to even see the true extent of how, um... interesting some of the characterisations are? So, we can only do one thing: keep reading, even though I’m relatively sure the corpse of a sizeable moth was batted onto my copy :I

We’ve reached chapter three, and only now do I realise what a considerable chunk of the book that is? Blimey.

CHAPTER THREE

/gets six lines in /shuts the book

Look, I said I wasn’t gonna say it because we know I hate it but ughghghgh I hate canon Velvet soooooo muuuuuuuuuuch she’s SO boring I’m SO sorry but GOD--

Okay. Okay. Moving on. Yatsu is our narrator now so let’s hear how he sounds!

“Ash started crying and crying and crying--”

I know it’s inevitable that most names I picked for OCs will crop up elsewhere but... Ash? You tryna take Ash “Bottom Energy” Scarlatina away from me now? Can’t I have anything?

So, it was mentioned that apparently a recurring thing I’ll be seeing in this novel is Yatsu and Velvet being hitched together on the character development front, and honestly, I can see it happening here. They’re being made into one sort of unit and Yatsu keeps calling attention to that, which isn’t... great, ‘cause I’m kinda hoping we’ll see more individual development? But the current consensus is that It Ain’t Happening, so we’ll See, I Guess,

Okay, I love that Velvet makes spreadsheets on her Scroll. I deeply enjoy her making chats to keep track of stuff, because honestly what a mood that is.

‘Yatsuhashi whirled around in confusion, but Velvet was gone. He didn’t like losing sight of her; what kind of trouble was she getting up to now?’

Predictably, I don’t like Velvet being babies in any sense of the word, but I do like that Yatsu’s first worry is what trouble can she possibly fucking cause now? Velvet and her high chaos energy, whomst I Adore,

Also what the fuck is a breadfruit.

‘Professor Greene’s Stealth and Security class--’

UGH I wish we knew more about the classes they took in Beacon. Do you know how hard it is to write an AU in which the Fall of Beacon never happened and having to pull classes outta your ass? It’s HARD, Y’ALL,

Yatsu’s Semblance is... making people forget things? That’s. Weird but alright??? Sure??? Whatever???

Me, every time Velvet snaps: why is it I only get the Velvet I’m after when she’s being such a bi-- oh wait I have a type sorry continue as you were,

But actually God I miss chibi!Velvet pour one out for the cancellation y’all

“This is bad,” Yatsu said sadly.

Me to myself: I know it’s not good writing I know and you know but don’t say anything just move on--

Okay before I move on, I’m definitely seeing a lot of that Yatsu/Velvet hitching, and makes me Nervous because I love Yatsu and I love Velvet but I also love them separately so I’m holding out hope that they get split up at Some Point because they really have been written together pretty much the whole way, huh? 

CHAPTER FOUR

OKAY CHAPTER FOUR LET’S GO LET’S GO

It’s Fox time, and we’ve got an introduction to Copper, Fox’s mentor (someone mentioned it’s totally a 'The Fox and The Hound’ reference). And-- ah, he’s dead. That was quick.

‘Velvet sometimes let her feelings get the best of her, Fox thought.’

You think that’s bad? You should meet murpverse!Velvet, that bitch has never held a thought in her head for more than five seconds.

I’ll confess I’m now reading pretty far ahead before I have any commentary of note. I’m enjoying Fox’s narration far more than anyone else’s by a pretty considerable margin, and it’s probably ‘cause Fox -- despite saying literally nothing in canon -- saw a lot of people reach the same conclusion to his character? So this one is much easier to settle into. Also, maybe it’s ‘cause he was such a blank slate that the writing works better for him. I dunno.

Story-wise: Edward is-- okay, actually, side-tangent: Edward? We seem to really jump in and out of the colour scheme, huh? Anyway, Edward’s a shady mfer and LET VELVET DO SHIT ON HER OWN!!!!!! LET HER BE A DUMBASS OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!

‘That was the last time he;s underestimate [Velvet].’

Told ya, dipshitte.

Ooh, everyone’s Angery about Everything. Seems like the Mood Bombs are also more passively AOE than just being a Sudden Boom, because everyone’s got a MUCH shorter temper? Then again, mine would be Non-Existent in a desert to begin with, so maybe they’ve all got sand up their butts. Also, Gus is to blame for the Mood Bombs anyway! That’s a big F, kiddo.

CHAPTER FIVE

Flashback to the dance!

Awh, Ruby made her own outfit and cape. Li’l seamstress! Oh, dang, do you think Summer taught her? Or, at least, showed her how her cape was made? Aaaaa--

Lien remains... weird. I thought it’d be closer to a currency rate like Yen to the dollar (so thousands are worth much less), but the implication here is that twenty Lien is more like $20? The currency here is very weird and even I’m at fault for flip-flopping on it, but I honestly expected it to be more like Yen. Huh.

Coco likes Ruby’s outfit look at that senpai GO.

Oh, okay, so they met at the dance? For some reason, I thought they’d already been acquainted? I thought they mentioned that team CFVY were away in the show (and therefore knew them at least in passing) but apparently not.

Okay, so Coco’s dialogue is... weird? I’m not totally down for the voice the author’s chosen to give her, and the more I see of it the more I’m starting to notice it. That said, I can’t believe Coco has reeled off Ozpin’s whole speech for Ruby. I’d have forgotten three words in.

Still jumping back and forth on Coco’s dialogue. I’m not sure if I like it. Moving on.

Weiss is Big Bitch Supreme, I see. This flashback is striking me all wrong for some reason, but I cannot for my life of me say why.That said, Weiss unironically saying besties is the funniest thing I’ve read all week, so there’s that.

UGHHHHHHHHHHHH TIME FOR VELVET AND RACISM UGHGHHGHGHHHHGHGH IM GONNA GO GET LUNCH FIRST--

WAIT BLAKE’S THERE

WAIT NO I’M GETTING FOOD FIRST EVEN IF BLACK VELVET IS RIGHT THERE--

Okay I ate too many calories and walked my dog let’s do this before I have to take said dog to the groomer. On that note, I’m like halfway through the book already? This really is short as heck.

“You had something to say to me?” Velvet asked. The boy clamped his mouth shut.

Do ya? Bihh.

Also I LOVE that highlights from the initiation are playing so that Blake literally looks a thousand times more intimidating. I wish we’d seen more of that kinda thing in the show, with RWBY being the new hotshots and the dynamic they had with Beacon as a whole. But that would have involved not blowing Beacon up to fuck and then having the writers go ‘uh, what do we do now?’ so what the hell do I know.

OOUGH THIS BLACK VELVET,,, HHH,,,, MURPHY’S OTP IS HERE,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

“What should we do with him?” [Blake] looked at Velvet.

Kill him... and then... kiss....................................

“I don’t believe in fighting prejudice with violence,” Velvet said.

I wish y’all could have heard the sound I made at that. Canon Velvet you’re just so... soggy bread about this.

Blake shook her head. “that’s not how we deal with people like him where I come from.”

Blake yr so HOT... hey you should teach Velvet how you deal with people like him and then kiss. That said, are they talking about Menagerie there? Or the Fang? If it’s Menagerie, that’s even funnier because I love the idea of an idiot running their mouth and then having five families and a baby wail on them.

Blake hates dog-ears in their books. Bad news, asshole, it’s the BEST way to mark PAGES bookmarks are for the UPPER CLASSES who don’t realise BOOKS are TOOLS of EDUCATION--

Anyway. Moving on-- YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG.

Yang beat the assholes up anyway I love her!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE HER!!!!!!!!!

CHAPTER SIX

Back with Velvet. Blessing or curse? Who knows.

Edward and Gus make for an. Interesting duo. This plot hasn’t captured my interest crazy well, and if I didn’t know this was RWBY and such I’d probably pass on it ‘cause it’s pretty... eh, but I do like their Semblances and this could’ve been a pretty decent side-plot thing in the show! Such as in My Hero Academia with, uh, whats-his-name... Eraserhead. I dunno. I’m thinking this was a good idea that hasn’t had enough space to breathe.

Emotions are Flying High and Whomst will be the first to crack like Egg? I am liking the method of raising tempers because everything’s a little sloppier and unpredictable! Also, that’s the end of chapter si-- what? Wait, chapter six was only ten pages? Yeesh.

For all in-tents and porpoises, I am tryna keep track of OOC moments, but having everyone be out-of-sorts is making is pretty hard to track. Rip.

CHAPTER SEVEN, I GUESS?

We’re with Yatsu again, and he’s talking about his Semblance to... make people forget shit! I still don’t know why this is his Semblance, or the use of it anyway, but whatever! I’m in this cart and the horse ain’t stopping until M+K says so!

I’m with Velvet here; why is she constantly being relegated to the backseat? Coco needs to fuckin’ get her shitte together on this front. Even Fox said earlier than he has to stop underestimating her, but they’re still doing it now.

OH MY GOD THERE’S A GRIMM JACKALOPE??? Holy shit I’m losing all of my marbles shouldn’t these guys have, like, other names????????????? No??? Okay!!!!

Battle scene. I’m not hot on combat in writing because I find it. Kinda boring. But it is what it is so I’m speed-running it.

And so ends chapter seven. I’m gonna stop here because. I want to! I feel like this story is very short and it could’ve already had more to it than this faffery in the desert, but that’s just me!!!!!! I guess!!!!!!!!!!! Next time: another flashback to the goddamn dance.

[daniwolf9005]

may i ask what the story is with your parasite lemres and tee?

Sure thing! It’s quite similar to Parasite/Evil Marle in the sense that the power that has taken over their minds is from Squares! I personally wanted Squares to be a bigger threat as a villain so the Parasite versions of Tee and Lemres are a lot more extreme than just “Battle me!!”. They’re commands by Squares since they are both Puyo and Tetris professionals is to look into ways to utilize Puyos and Tetriminos to their greatest potential and ultimately taking down Puyo and Tetris characters with said methods. It sounds a bit similar to the “battle crazy” thing going on with all infected but it is a side effect considering Squares has to give them an incentive to keep fighting. As for when their corruptions occurred Lemres happened around the time when Marle tried getting to his head (in Lemres’ special chapters in PPT2). She enticed him with the idea of being unruly and free to do as he pleased, promising it’d be such a sweet experience and that the offer was too good to waste (and noting it’s all fun and games, wouldn’t hurt a soul!). Tee got corrupted near the end, as in the final showdown with Squares. In this version since they attained Lemres, a powerful warlock, they felt unbeatable therefore giving Marle less incentive to wanna slip away from Squares control. They weren’t entirely wrong either, with Lemres not holding back any punches it put the main cast at a disadvantage. Squares eventually brings up that if he could have the Tetris King working with him, he’d gladly stop attacking, further explaining that he wants to figure out the true nature of Puyos and Tetriminos (it’s a part truth and part lie). Tee sees all the destruction and caves in (similar to PPT1 where he feels if it’s his duty, then he must step up to the plate, even if he doesn’t like it) willing to join Squares in the promise he’ll stop harming his friends. I feel like that’s all my thoughts on it! Most of it was loving the design concept as I’m an artist so just the thought of Parasite versions of my fave Puyo characters was just too fun to not draw! It may seem a little OOC since Lemres has a strong sense of self control but I like to think it ties back to his dark warlock origins and even though he despises that aspect of his childhood it’s still a small part of him, making him susceptible to crazy ideas (never acting them out but thinking of them). Marle getting in his head constantly willing him to join just sorta tipped him over the edge. Anyways I believe that’s all! If you read this whole thing, great job (and I’m sorry it’s so long ;-;)!

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO EXO COSMIA, SATORU GOJO. 🌑

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: raine age: 26 pronouns: she/her ooc contact: DM other characters in xc: Aki Hayakawa (Chainsaw Man)

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: Satoru Gojo age: 29 pronouns: he/him series: Jujutsu Kaisen canon point: Don’t ask me about what happened in Chapter 236 of JJK. app triggers: brief mentions of child murder, massacres, apocalyptic scenarios, body horror, gore 

personality: 

Satoru Gojo is the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer alive. He is the undeniable peak of Jujutsu society. Feared as much as he is admired, in the world of Jujutsu, there’s no one that hasn’t heard of his name.

He’s an unstoppable force of nature and he knows it. A natural genius and gifted at everything, his only flaw is his eccentric personality. He’s childish, rude, arrogant and rarely takes things seriously. Among allies and enemies alike, he’s universally disliked, but he gets the job done. As long as Satoru Gojo is around, peace can’t be threatened. His existence alone is reason for curses and curse users to lay low, if they don’t want to get exorcised.

Privately, Gojo is a very mysterious person. As “The Strongest”, he doesn’t have many people he can relate to. He is often misunderstood by his allies and described as a depraved being, finding enjoyment in situations that would cost most people their lives. The world of Jujutsu is cruel and unforgiving, yet Gojo seems unbothered, if not amused by the dangerous, life-threatening missions he’s constantly sent on. Always too much for everyone he faces, he yearns for a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to go all out, even at the cost of his own life. If he could die in battle against someone stronger than him, then that would be his ideal death.

His happiest memories are from his time in high school, before he grew into his powers entirely. For the first and only time in his life, he had a true friend who was just as exceptional as him. As his equal, he understood and cared for him like no other. Gojo has never felt more human than during those days. He still mourns the fact that he can never return to them.

The innocence and freedom of youth is sacred to him. Witnessing how his own brief happiness was shattered by the cruelty of reality, he decided to dedicate his life to protecting and nourishing those that will succeed him. As a teacher, he wants to raise a generation that can surpass him in strength, durability and foresightedness. 

To fulfil this goal, he doesn’t mind bending and breaking rules. He likes to upset the status quo. He is no blatant murderer, but under the right circumstances, he’s not afraid of obliterating everything in his path. During battle, he can have a cruel, almost sadistic streak. It’s better to be with him than against him, as he ultimately decides everything. 

Luckily, he’s kind. He wants the world to be at peace, so he does what’s necessary to keep that peace. Since nobody can control him, he lives by his own moral compass and rules. As such, he tends to show compassion even to his strongest enemies.

If possible, he’d keep the kids out of the struggle, but the life of a Jujutsu sorcerer isn’t that simple. Not everyone can ultimately be saved, but things need to change, and drastically at that. He doesn’t mind making tough decisions and he is capable of showing cold logic in dire moments. However, in the end, he’s an optimist. He doesn’t want to create a future for his students, he wants to raise them strong enough to pave their own ways.

“You know, I have a lousy personality. I’m just not the teacher type, so why would someone like me be at a place like Jujutsu High?

I have a dream. As they made clear with Yuji, the higher ups are the scum of the Jujutsu world. Selfish idiots, bloodline idiots, proud idiots - just plain idiots!

I’m gonna reset this crappy Jujutsu world!

It’d be easy to kill everyone who’s in charge. But someone else would just take their place. Nothing would change. And it’s not as if people approve of massacres anyway…

So that’s why I’m turning to education.

I need strong and intelligent allies. I need to foster them! [...]

I refuse to keep this kid from living the best years of his life.

Not just him, but everyone.”

– Satoru Gojo, Jujutsu Kaisen Chapter 11

something your muse struggles with:

Working together with other people. Because of his destructive power and overall superiority, he works best when he’s by himself. 

Conveying important information. He’s a natural genius, so he’s bad at explaining how things work and giving instructions. Things just work for him. He constantly forgets to share important information with other people too. Probably because it’s fine, as long as he knows?

Taking breaks. With such ambitious goals, there’s always something that needs to be done. He even traded his house for a room at Jujutsu High, as he’s barely home anyway. Between teaching and picking up the most dangerous missions by himself, there’s not a lot of room for anything else.

your muse’s greatest strength:

Being inherently talented at everything. Not even an exaggeration. He is truly superhuman.

His kindness and optimism. As a special grade sorcerer, he could easily level an entire country by himself. Luckily he sees no purpose in this. He values human life and uses his powers for the greater good. 

Unwavering confidence in himself and his allies. When asked if he’d win against the King of Curses, he said yes. Twice. When he got sealed in the Prison Realm he believed the others would save him. And they did.

history / background:

Every 400 years, a sorcerer is born into the Gojo family that inherits both, the legendary “Six Eyes” and the family’s innate technique “Limitless”. In this modern age, Satoru Gojo is that sorcerer. 

When Satoru Gojo was born, the balance of the world shifted. His power is so immense that his birth alone balanced out the increasing number of curses that had grown stronger and stronger all over the world. A bounty of millions of yen had been put on a mere infant. Satoru Gojo’s existence has always been deeply intertwined with the world at large. It shifted to make space for him. He’s a true anomaly. 

However, an infant is still an infant. His ancestor, the previous Limitless and Six Eyes user, was killed shortly after their birth. To prevent such a tragedy from happening again, Satoru is raised surrounded by adults that admire and fear him. It isn’t until he enters high school that he runs into peers.

His years in high school are his prime. Despite the fact that he hasn’t grown into all of his powers yet, this is the happiest time of his life. He has friends and not a care in the world. He is bratty, spoiled and thinks of himself as undefeatable. As long as he wants to, he can do anything. As long as he has his best friend, there is nothing the two of them can’t accomplish. Still green, he believes things will stay like this forever. 

In his second year, he and Geto are requested for a special mission. The strongest duo, sent to complete a task that would ultimately serve as the catalyst for a long line of tragedies in the world of Jujutsu. Both barely escape alive.

The mission fails, and the invincible duo is split forever. 

A year passes. Gojo finishes missions by himself now. He is the undeniable prodigy he was always meant to become. No one can keep up with him anymore, not even Geto. The strongest duo became The Strongest.

And then Geto snaps under the pressure of being a sorcerer. Where Gojo grew, he regressed. When Geto massacres a village and chooses the only path that’s right for him, Gojo can’t reach him anymore. 

Geto has made up his mind, however silly it sounds to Gojo. And Gojo doesn’t get it. Because he’s always been privileged, always been naturally blessed, and he always comes out on top. So Geto asks, is he Satoru Gojo because he’s The Strongest, or is he The Strongest because he’s Satoru Gojo?

They part and Gojo is alone. He is the strongest, but that’s all he really is. 

He realises strength is not enough. He can’t save people that don’t want to be saved. What he needs are allies strong enough to save themselves. From that point on, he turns to teaching.

“Question: What is Satoru Gojo to you? 

My teacher! If it wasn’t for him, I’d be executed. Oh, and–

Well, I guess I owe him my life. And I’m not the only one who says this, but–

Well, to be honest, I don’t really know much about him. But I can definitely say that–

An idiot. 

Yup, an idiot.

Salmon.

But–

Flippant. Egoistical. 

Need I say more? He’s–

…the strongest.”

– Jujutsu Kaisen Chapter 88’s Extra

Ten years pass until Gojo and Geto see each other again, now on opposite sides of a war. Gojo has spent the last decade teaching and using his power to raise a generation of sorcerers capable of keeping up with him. Geto is planning to create lasting change in his own ways. Openly presenting himself as a direct threat to the world,  Gojo can no longer let Geto live. Ultimately, he has to end his life, but not without letting him know that he’s never held a grudge against him. 

Geto is and has always been the only friend he’s ever known. Ten years of separation and disagreements didn’t change any of that. To this date, he mourns the loss of the one person who saw him as Satoru and stood as his equal. 

It is a well-known fact in Jujutsu society that bodies of strong sorcerers must be burned with cursed energy once they’re deceased. If not, one risks that the former sorcerer turns into a vengeful spirit after his death. 

Gojo is a sentimental person. He did not properly dispose of Geto’s body after his execution.

Another year passes, and during Halloween of 2018, a handful of high-ranked curses hold innocent civilians hostage in the underground station of Shibuya Crossing. They’re being told to ask for Satoru Gojo to save them.

Gojo arrives at the scene, despite the obvious signs of a trap. He can’t possibly ignore such a large-scale incident, especially if thousands of lives are at stake. That’s where he runs into him. 

“Yo, Satoru.”

The Prison Realm is a legendary item that can trap anyone, no matter who, inside of it.

First, it has to open. This is done by saying, “Gate: Open”, out loud. 

Second, whoever is the target has to stay within the Prison Realm’s radius for one minute. 

Third, the Prison Realm snaps shut, robbing its prisoner of all of their powers.

Finally, the sealing is completed after the user says, “Gate: Close”, out loud. 

When Gojo runs into the parasite that took over his best friend’s body, he is rendered immobile. Three years of his youth rush through his brain. It’s more than enough for the trap to snap shut. 

For 19 days, Satoru Gojo is sealed in the Prison Realm. It’s enough for the world to be plunged into chaos. In his absence, the balance of the world is disturbed. In his absence, curses roam freely. 

By the time he is unsealed, Jujutsu society no longer exists. The world is in a state of anarchy and turns to Satoru Gojo to fix it.

On December 24th, 2018, he challenges Ryoumen Sukuna, the King of Curses, to a duel. Both display unmatched skills in sorcery, and Gojo ultimately comes out victorious. Now, all he has to do is avenge the defiled body of his best friend. That’s why he chose Christmas Eve in the first place. He wouldn’t want Suguru to have two separate death dates.

Then he finds himself at an airport. He’s a teenager again. Geto is there, and so are his other classmates. Geto asks how the King of Curses was, and Gojo explains that he was crazy strong. He had to give it his all and regrets that he wasn’t able to push Sukuna to that same extent. Geto says it’s fine, as long as he’s satisfied. Gojo says that he would have been satisfied if Geto had been there to cheer for him. 

He’s glad he didn’t die of disease or old age. That he died to someone so much stronger than him. That he thought him and Sukuna were the same, and that he’d be able to teach him about love.

He hopes this isn’t a dream. 

On December 24th, 2018, Satoru Gojo was killed by the King of Curses, Ryoumen Sukuna. After being able to go all out, using his entire arsenal of power, intellect, strategy and charm, he has no regrets. In death, he reunites with everyone who’s been waiting for him, returning to the past self he loved the most.

Now no longer The Strongest, he is free to be nobody but Satoru Gojo.

inherent abilities: 

Gojo has a long list of abilities. For a more detailed reference, refer to the Jujutsu Kaisen wiki. Here is a brief list of his most important abilities:

Immeasurable cursed energy: As a Jujutsu sorcerer, he can control cursed energy. Cursed energy can either be used to increase normal attacks or be filtered through a cursed technique. Because of Gojo’s special eyes, he consumes almost no cursed energy and will never run out of it during a fight. Instead, an overuse in strong techniques can result in “frying your brain”, capable of destroying a user’s ability to use cursed techniques forever.

Master hand-to-hand combat: Satoru is trained in a variety of martial arts and is a masterful close range fighter. He possesses inhuman strength and speed and great tactical intellect. He’s very adaptable and capable of considering multiple possibilities and circumstances even in stressful situations. 

Black flash: A phenomenon that creates spatial distortion when a user connects with an impact of cursed energy within 0.000001 seconds of a physical hit. This causes their cursed energy to flash black, creating a more potent attack to the power of 2.5 of a normal hit. In the moments after a black flash happens, a sorcerer experiences a special state of mind, where for a limited amount of time they acquire a deeper understanding of cursed energy and are capable of operating at 120% of their full potential. No sorcerer is capable of performing a black flash at will. It’s like a Nat20 for them and happens at random, when they’re truly in the zone. 

Binding Vow: A binding vow is a pact made with Jujutsu that creates conditions for the user or agreements with others. It’s one of the most basic abilities sorcerers have access to. Breaking a binding vow has terrible consequences, but binding vows are capable of strengthening techniques under certain circumstances. Equivalent exchange.

Six Eyes: An ability inherited through the Gojo family. Nobody knows the full potential of the “Six Eyes”, but it is implied that they grant the user the ability to perceive the world in its components, such as time, speed, mass, energy and so on. As such, only someone in possession of both the “Six Eyes” and “Limitless” is capable of using both abilities to their full potential. Additionally, the “Six Eyes” grants Satoru the ability to reduce his cursed energy consumption to basically nothing, making it impossible for him to run out of cursed energy during a fight. However, the constant use of “Six Eyes” seems to be overstimulating to the user, which is why Satoru is often seen with his eyes covered, only revealing them during fights. Despite that, he doesn’t seem to have any trouble with his vision and can see just fine, with or without the blindfold.

powers/abilities: 

Curtain: As many other sorcerers, Satoru is capable of creating curtains. A curtain is a barrier that is capable of sealing certain areas off or keeping specific people from getting inside. The more complex the condition of the curtain is, the harder it is to draw. It’s usually done with an incantation. 

Simple Domain and Falling Blossom Emotion: An anti-domain technique that creates a barrier around the user, protecting them from the sure-hit effect of a domain expansion. This technique was developed specifically to counter domain expansions if the user is incapable of casting a domain on their own. However, an especially strong domain is still able to shatter a simple domain. A binding vow can be cast inside of the simple domain that can affect both the caster and the attacker. It can also be used in a more offensive way, if cast before an incoming attack. Falling Blossom Emotion is another anti-domain technique that can nullify a domain’s attack.

Reverse cursed technique: A special type of cursed technique that allows the user to heal themselves. While not everyone is capable of learning reversed cursed technique, it is not a technique in the traditional sense, where one has to be born with it. Instead, reversed cursed technique requires the user to have a deeper level of understanding cursed energy, as it allows the user to reverse the flow of their own cursed energy. Cursed energy is by definition a destructive force, so reversing the flow allows the few sorcerers who mastered it to heal themselves. Additionally, reversed cursed technique is twice as strong as regular cursed energy, as it’s essentially cursed energy times two. (In the same way as two negatives creating a positive.) The ability is easily strong enough to heal back entire limbs if they’re cut off. Cursed techniques are stored inside of a Jujutsu sorcerer’s brain, so as long as the head isn’t damaged and they haven’t run out of cursed energy, they are able to completely restore their bodies. 

Limitless: An ancient cursed technique unique to the Gojo family bloodline. Satoru’s family is descended from Michizane Sugawara, one of the Big Three Vengeful Spirits of the Jujutsu world. As such, all techniques of the Gojo family are incredibly powerful, only matched by techniques of the descendants of the other two Vengeful Spirits. “Limitless” allows the user to manipulate space at an atomic level, granting the user access to a variety of powerful abilities. However, it is implied that “Limitless” without the Six Eyes is almost useless, as “Limitless” requires the user to have a deep fundamental understanding of quantum mechanics and matter far beyond the capabilities of normal humans. 

Infinity: Originally a technique he had to master, “Infinity” is now an ability that comes as naturally to Satoru as breathing. “Infinity” is the neutral of “Limitless”, creating infinite space between him and the world around him. The ability functions like an invisible barrier, making it impossible for anyone to approach him. While it looks like Satoru is forcefully stopping his opponent’s movement, what actually happens is that their movement slows down indefinitely. As infinite space is created between him and his opponent, they’re never able to reach him. Satoru can choose what can or cannot enter “Infinity” based on properties, such as mass, energy or threat level. While he originally had to focus in order to keep “Infinity” active, he has mastered the ability to a level where he no longer has to think about it. As such, “Infinity” is passively protecting him at all times, unless he chooses to turn it off.

Infinity can be broken with abilities such as domain amplification, which allows the user to forcefully cancel another sorcerer’s cursed technique in exchange for being unable to use your own technique as long as amplification is active.

Cursed technique lapse: Blue: One of the many abilities only a sorcerer both in possession of the “Six Eyes” and “Limitless” is capable of. By amplifying “Limitless” and negative energy, Satoru is capable of creating a vacuum in the shape of a huge blue orb. As everything inside of “Blue” is eradicated, the universe around it is forced to correct itself by filling in the negative space. As such, all matter around “Blue” will pull itself together in order to fill the gap. In a more advanced version, Satoru is seen to create a centre of gravity in a specific space, capable of attracting all matter around it. As such, it functions like a black hole, crushing everything inside of it effortlessly. Additionally, he’s capable of moving the centre of gravity too.

Cursed technique reversal: Red: Another technique only available to a sorcerer in possession of the “Six Eyes” and “Limitless”.  Additionally, since “Red” is the opposite technique of “Blue” it requires Satoru to be capable of performing reversed cursed technique. “Red” creates a repulsive, extremely powerful force, repelling all matter in its vicinity. As it is a technique based on reversed cursed technique, “Red” is twice as strong as “Blue” as it requires Satoru to use his cursed energy twice at the same time. (Again, two negatives creating a positive.)

Hollow technique: Purple: A non-standard technique of the Gojo family that only few people know of. “Purple” combines the two standard techniques “Blue” and “Red” to create a singularity where both effects are combined. It is a long ranged attack that can be sent into any direction Satoru desires, eradicating all matter in its path in a single instant. In his most recent fight, Gojo has also used purple without sending it into a direction, simply exploding it in place. This usage was so destructive that it damaged Gojo himself too, though less, since it is still his cursed technique in the end. 

Unlimited Void: Satoru’s Domain Expansion. A Domain Expansion is a barrier technique only few sorcerers are capable of. It requires deep knowledge of one’s own abilities and the ability to comprehend a large space inside of a smaller exterior. A Domain Expansion allows its user to create a space in which their next attack will be a 100% guaranteed hit. Satoru’s domain creates a metaphysical space where whoever is inside of it receives endless information and stimuli, restraining their thought process and actions. Since the information is never fully processed, his victims receive both everything and nothing at the same time. Once inside a domain, it is impossible to break out of it by yourself. Since “Unlimited Void” is known to be one of the most refined Domain Expansions, it is a guaranteed instant-kill technique. Because of the Six Eyes and Gojo’s efficiency with cursed energy, Gojo is one of the only sorcerers alive capable of casting his domain multiple times in a row, as casting a domain usually drains the user so much that they need to wait for their energy to be restored first. 

items / weapons: - 

starting ability: 

I never unlocked it so… this time, let’s start with his Domain Expansion. So Gabriel can finally witness it. 

starting item: - 

extra: 

Fellas is it gay to die on the one year death anniversary of your best friend one and only the only one you've ever had? Is it gay if that's Christmas Eve? Is it gay if you killed him? Unmatched soulmateism.

discord id: kyoshikimurasaki

[freedom-of-fanfic]

I'm kind of torn on the Mary Sue issue. On one hand, I don't care what anyone writes for their own amusement, but writing is still an art that does and should have standards for professionals. As someone who has degrees in writing and does it as a profession, it's a little insulting to be told that the work your poured tons of research and time into is on the same level as amateur self-insert fic. That's why I advocate for different standards for fandom vs pro work.

I feel you, anon. and I have a lot of respect for people like you who got degrees and write professionally, because words are held rather cheap with the internet being around and anyone who can get paid to write words impresses me to some degree. but:

 I’ve always felt like comparing fanfic and original fiction to be not exactly congruous? and 

I think Mary Sue suffers from maligning because she’s disproportionately evoked by the youngest/least experienced of writers.

this got … pretty long … so i’m dividing it up a little for ease.

the concept of ‘standards’

first of all, I also advocate for different standards between published/professional/marketed works and fan works, but I do so because of 1)potential spread and 2)they aren’t accomplishing the same thing.

In general, a fanwork will have limited appeal outside of the fans of the canon the work is based in; they cannot stand on their own without some additional effort. Further, fandom has its own language to some degree or another, and fanworks are frequently best understood in the context of other fanworks, like scientific papers citing other scientific papers in passing because the audience is expected to be other scientists in the field who have read it. In other words: the audience is probably fairly niche and in on the ‘lingo’. its potential damage circle is therefore relatively small. if somebody fucks up their research for a fic, it’s nbd, for instance.

On the other hand, an original work with a professional marketing team will certainly reach a much more diverse audience and probably a much larger one. It’s therefore responsible, imo, to be proportionately aware of the potential impact of the subject material and approach it accordingly (though true fiction will always have an unpredictable effect on any given individual, so there’s only so much the creator can do). I’d expect accuracy where research was done, if for no other reason than to avoid spreading false information to such a big potential audience.

and of course I’d hope that if somebody is being paid to write, their grammar/prose/proofreading will meet a certain standard of readability. (the same cannot be expected of free works done for fun that take a few minutes to post on the internet.)

having said that: standards for quality fiction writing will always be subjective. I’m always going to have questions about why The Sound and the Fury is an American classic (I couldn’t make sense of it no matter how hard I tried).  What gets published can be as simple as having good luck with the slush pile reader that day. I’ve seen fanfiction complimented with incredible research: there’s a Tokyo Babylon work-in-progress with an author who has traveled to fic-relevant locales to nail story and character details. I feel the line is blurring these days, especially because there are people who make a living off writing commissioned fanfiction now (too small-scale to be an IP concern, of course).

I think the fundamental difference between fanworks and original works is not quality of the work itself or effort expended.  It’s related to structure and aim. 

Fanworks, even AU fanworks, are like interior decoration. A 'good fanwork’, even an AU fanwork, works within a pre-built framework to elaborate on or add to or evoke what drew its audience to the framework in the first place. 

Original works build a whole new house, creating a new framework from bare construction materials to draw in and house the emotions of its readers. (and then maybe its readers decorate the house with their own fanfic.)

tl;dr: if an AU fanfic was so different from canon and the characters were so OOC that the author can shave the serial numbers off and repurpose it as an original story, it might be a great original work. But it wasn’t a very good fanfic, was it?

why is mary sue so offensive to us?

I don’t know if you’ve ever read the post Mary Sue, What Are You?, but what I keep coming back to is its iconic opening. the author describes an OC at length: orphaned as a child when her parents were killed in front of her, she decided she would dedicate her life to fighting for justice. She grew up to be rich, athletic, beautiful, sexy, angsty, a genius, undefeatable in a battle of wits and agility, and everyone who meets her is instantly lovestruck. In other words, a classic Mary Sue …

but also Batman with female pronouns.

I think one could argue that Batman is not always well-written, but the relevant point here is that Batman - and Mary Sue - might be 99.9% perfection in the shape of a human around whom the universe revolves, but if its their own canon and the universe doesn’t recognize their perfection the way the reader/writer does, it’s not really 'bad’. (And there’s something to be said about why giving this power fantasy male pronouns seems to render it so much more palatable than female pronouns, but for more on that I point you to the referenced essay.)

Your ask is worded to suggest that Mary Sue is synonymous with unprofessional writing. I … kind of agree? Mary Sue is frequently the main character of Baby’s First Fanfic, and let’s be real: Baby’s First Fanfic is often being written by somebody who might be as young (or younger than) 12-13 years old, with all the inexperience, grammar mistakes, and lack of training that suggests. and as far as characterization goes, I think that anyone who takes decent writing classes will be discouraged from writing a Mary Sue. But like Batman, Mary Sue can be a perfect princess and get away with it under certain circumstances.

I posit that Mary Sue characters (or Gary Stus) - whom I will call Flawless OCs from here - are not really a problem on their own. Further, Flawless OC is more agregious in fanfic than original works. Because what makes the Flawless OC so irritating isn’t their perfection, really: it’s what the character’s presence must do to the universe (which is, in the case of fanfic, the universe the reader came to experience in the first place) that’s the real problem.

To show what a good fighter Flawless OC is, they defeat the best canon fighter.

Flawless OC has a backstory more tragic and painful than the most tragic canon backstory, and they cope with the trauma of it better.

There’s no room for Flawless OC because canon wasn’t holding a spot open for a self-insert, so now there’s a 6th Lion or a 10th Fellowship member or a Second Child Who Survived Voldemort.

The entire universe bends to ensure Flawless OC has perfect luck; their enemies are helpless before them. Everything seems to go their way except in the chapter where the their love interest is supposed to rescue them from danger. (the rescue goes flawlessly, of course.)

Depending on the author wish that Flawless OC is meant to fulfill, Flawless OC will defeat any undefeatable enemy, solve the unsolveable problem, be the envy or lust object of any character, etc etc, often without regard for the original context of the enemy/problem or the canon personality of the character.

In short, Flawless OC usually have two major issues: 

they render canon irrelevant to glorify Flawless OC, and 

the universe constantly validates their choices to a degree that wrecks narrative suspense. 

what makes each of these things 'bad writing’ is different.

The first problem I mentioned - warping of mythos, plot, and characters to accomodate the Flawless OC - is a fanfic problem.  Canon-warping absolutely allowed, but what makes it fanfic - the canon source that acts as our shared experience and usually our main reason for being a potential audience to the fic - is almost always nigh-unrecognizable. That makes for bad fanfiction, but it doesn’t always make for bad fiction. Change all the parts of canon enough and you’ve arguably got an original work. It might even be a good original work if the author has writing skill.

The second problem - the validation of the universe - is what makes Flawless OC a dull read in any context. If Flawless OC wants something, you know they’ll get it. If Flawless OC hates someone, you know they’re going to catch hell. If Flawless OC needs to be vulnerable for their love interest, something just bad enough to make them vulnerable will befall them. The perfection of the OC is less of an issue than the lack of meaningful conflict. (A character can have no faults and still be interesting to follow if they must struggle against a universe that doesn’t care.)

to wit:

there’s a fantasy book by David and Leigh Eddings - The Redemption of Althalus - that I read long ago. it stuck with me to a peculiar degree because for a book with such a unique conceit, it was incredibly boring. This is published fiction: it had editors, a marketing team, and was written by professionals with lots of experience! But looking back, none of this saved the story from featuring Gary Stu in a universe that catered to his every need.

The main character, Althalus, is ostensibly a person in need of redemption for being such a bad person all his life and never punished for it, but he’s a loveable, quick-witted rogue almost from the start. To 'redeem’ himself, he’s tasked with saving the world from Enemies (we’re told they’re evil, but I don’t think we see them more than once or twice).  Protected by the Goddess of Luck - literally - for the entire novel, there’s never a single moment where Althalus’ victory over the Enemy is in question. He never does anything really awful that would explain his need to be redeemed (in fact, it turns out the Luck Goddess is the one who protected him from punishment all his life). The enemy is weak, forgettable, and constantly outwitted, and the protagonists, supposedly people of gray morality, never did anything worse than be snarky.

The unique conceit that kept me reading was the House at the End of the World. Being the home of the Goddess, it had doors that opened to anywhere on the planet. but for an idea with such double-edged possibilities, it turned out to be an impregnable fortress of Good. The House and its owner were the forces that bent the whole book’s universe to the inevitable triumph of the main character and his companions.

A counter-example might be Miraculous Ladybug. I’ve often wondered if Mary Sue could be written well and be likeable, and Marinette - the titular Ladybug - is probably close. She’s good at almost everything and always outwits her enemies; even when she seems confident to the point of arrogance, it’s justified by her endless successes. (Her only real flaw is being clumsy when she’s distracted, and it only happens when it’s conveniently cute. this is a walking Mary Sue cliche.) Her power is to be lucky, after all.  

However: even though everything ends up right for Marinette at the end of every episode, she’s not rewarded when she acts poorly towards others. She causes herself problems when she does. Her luck powers give her the ability to bend the universe a little, but the universe is otherwise unforgiving; she’s subjected to the same banalities as everyone else and learns to be a better person along the way.

OTOH if you put Ladybug in another canon with a makeover to recast her as Flawless OC, changing everything so she could occupy a central role like the one she has in her own series, she’d be insufferable: hence Ladybug is a solid example of how a Mary Sue can prosper provided she’s in a universe designed to both feature her and contain her powers for the sake of Good.

I apologize for how long a reply this is. Still: I hope it successfully illustrates for you that:

though original writing and fanfic writing use the same tool (words), and both can use them masterfully, what original writers like you do and what fic writers do are, in general, very different things.

And Mary Sue is what you make of her. In the right universe, she’s just a very lucky person. :)

[scrcrow-a]

HIDEYOSHI’S RP PLOTTING CHEAT-SHEET

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name: ai OOC Contact: DMs! i tend to give out my discord after we’ve gotten to know each other and we’ve interacted a bit, but don’t hesitate to ask for it!

Who the heck is my muse anyway:

hideyoshi nagachika is one of the human characters in tokyo ghoul/:re. he is the best friend of kaneki ken and was long believed to be dead in the series but has made his reappearance in recent chapters.  one of the deciding factors in bringing humans and ghouls together, he currently serves as a leader in helping create peace in this chaotic world against those who wish to destroy it. ultimately, he, among many others, wants to help create a world where humans & ghouls can live in harmony.

Points of interest:

hide suffers from MAJOR bodily trauma. it spans from his mouth, throat, and down to his shoulders from where he was eaten ( by his own volition ) by his best friend. because of this, he was mute for about three years before the ccg manufactured a device that enabled him to speak. he wears a scarf/mask normally from the middle of his face down to hide the scarring.

his voice ( after the surgery ) does not sound natural. it has a sort of robotic and static feel to it. without it, it is hard for him to speak and it is a pain. he turned to writing to communicate.

while hide isn’t physically imposing, his intellect is what saves him most of the time. he isn’t the strongest person out there, but can account for his well being by being a step ahead of whoever he has to fight against, using wits rather than brawn. quite often, he is underestimated by people.

affectionately, nicknamed as a terrorist by marude who served as a partner to him during his days of hiding away from the world. in a way, he is one, dismantling the corrupt ways of the ccg alongside of him. he doesn’t look like it because of his cheery personality that he presents, so it’s easy to miss this about him!

two main verses: scarecrow & current. scarecrow is his ghoul persona that he uses to hide out from the people who are trying to get him killed. a sort of anonymous mask if you will. this takes place during the 3 years timeskip from tg & re. he is heavily disguised as a ghoul so much so that most people will assume. current, he can speak with the aid of his device & is no longer disguised.

What they’ve been up to recently:

current: leading ghouls & humans in fighting back against those who disrupt peace from happening in tokyo. before it was simply an effort to stop the massive force that was ‘dragon’ but now it is to try and figure out the chaotic happenings of the battle before him and the rest of the conjoined forces. 

scarecrow: gathering information on the washuu, kanou, any organization that seems to have shady ties in suppressing the general public from knowing the truth about what really goes on. currently hiding and many people do not know that he is even alive. 

Where to find them:

current: ccg main headquarters, in the control room with division II. also likely to find him wandering the streets of tokyo on his own. he also frequents rooftops, it’s a good place to think and to clear his mind away from all the chaos from below. he does a lot of people watching on his free time!

scarecrow: a wanderer, he never stays in one place too long. it’s easy to get caught. always hiding in the depths of tokyo, traveling in between wards to avoid being found and killed by those who have it out for him. many forget he even exist, only giving him a low ranking bc he is often times seen with ghouls.

Current plans:

modern verse: still needs to be fleshed out but a modern verse where ghouls don’t exist. timeline is dodgy but hide is university student and would work part time at a investigation department ( ccg equivalent ) as time goes on. he would still have his injuries but the reason is still not concrete and he’ll learn how to use jsl/asl/other forms of communication in the future.

Desired interactions:

hide needs more friends! he is a very social person by nature but he is really lacking in deep friendships where he can show his thoughts and emotions sincerely. someone needs to be there where he can lean on rather than be the one who is always supporting.

on the flip side, more relationships too. hide is such a lovely and loving person, he loves with all his heart. i want him to have someone who he can be devoted to and have that devotion shared. its hard having a one-sided love... 

sunlit garden verse that i would love to have some threads in. that verse is my version of tweaking canon to make a lot of hide’s character make sense, especially in the way of how he was able to figure out what many couldn’t. it also gives him a backstory that he is severely lacking in canon. 

fake relationship plot. simple. i just love the slow burn of it all and the dynamic that any muse can bring to the table. give me it pls

hide during his recovery time in any verse, its hard to imagine him bearing all that pain on his own so i would hope someone would be there to accompany him. he’s lonely deep down. 

someone to beat hide’s ass ... like honestly? i want to see him hurt and suffering, someone overpowering him in a way he can’t escape from wit alone and he has to deal with being vulnerable and extremely hurt. ( just eat him please )

Offered interactions:

need a shoulder to cry on? hide is there, he’s extremely empathetic and would always offer his comfort better than anyone else can. 

 need someone to eat? ( if ur muse is a ghoul or a eats ppl... ) if hide thinks your cool enough then sure? why not. he’s already offered his body up one to literally be eaten so why not... make sure to ask permission though!

an intellectual. he’s smart and knows how to make battle plans. he knows he doesn’t look like it but his intuition is the best out there and can figure out troublesome leads and do it fast. he’s also a sneaky boy so he can do some shady work if you need it!

need a friend? hide always is there to have new friends. he is total dad tho so be ready for a lot of dotting and being cared for. 

Current open post/s:

anything that is tagged with “IC” is open for mutuals to reply to, no matter how silly it is!

Anything else?:

quick pet peeves.  pls don’t water hide’s character down to being the ‘happy sunshine’ character. he is complex and has these feelings even if he doesn’t show them often. i would also rather him not be the third wheel to anything. it’s alright if your muse believes it but it just makes me a bit annoyed seeing him boiled down to that constantly when he is so much more. 

also hide is not str8 im just saying it now do not test me on that. thx :^)

Tagging: honestly please just steal it! i want to know everything about ur muses thank u 

[bishop-legacy]

Letters of Thanks

So I just kind of had a headcannon post being frozen in carbonite but pre chapter 3 of KOTFE where Gault stumbles upon a holo that contains recordings for each of the companions (except for Skadge because Raica has never really liked Skadge in the first place) so they just kind of gather together and listen to what their dead captain has to say. So here is a one shot about that. (Kind of written through the point of view of Torian because I want to cause myself pain and Raica has romanced him.May be a little OOC because I’m only guessing based on what I see about how he would react through it all.)

Torian couldn’t stand it. He refused to believe his eyes. Everyone saw the same thing he did, but there was no way it was real. That was not his captain.

She had to have gotten out one way or another. She couldn’t–no–Wouldn’t have abandoned him. She wouldn’t just abandoned her whole crew. It wasn’t like her.

He knew that the life of a Mandalorian was always essentially a ride or die type deal. He was aware that she was not bound to live forever, but this was not the way it was supposed to go. She was supposed to die on a hunt after some big shot bounty, not trapped on a burning ship. It wasn’t worthy of her.

Yet, the ship had blown up. She had been on the ship when it did. She was gone. Forever.

Torian couldn’t figure out if it was the disbelief and numbness coursing through his body or something else but something told him that she wasn’t dead. That she would come back to him. If she was truly dead he would feel it. It was their connection.

The last of the clan Cadera needed to take a moment to just breathe and await some sort of sign from his captain–no–his love.

A few hours passed. Still no word. Fear gripped his heart as the horrible thoughts filtered through his brain. He had to focus on something else before the thoughts consumed his every being.

He could go on a hunting trip. Those always made him feel better, but something told him that would make it worse. The only other possible option was to check in on everyone else.

Torian knew that some of the crew was aquainted with her before he got the chance to so the sight was most likely more devastating for them. It must be hard–if not harder–for them.

Especially Blizz.

Though he came later, Torian saw how Raica treated him. The Jawa became something similar to her child. She always treated him with such kindness and appreciation. 

He was always there in her mind, when she excitedly picked out trinkets for the Jawa after their every bounty. It seemed like that small alien was the first one to even cross her mind once off the job. 

 Was he jealous? No. He found it absolutely adorable. If she treated Blizz like her own child, he knew exactly how she would be with one of her actual flesh and blood. She would be an amazing mother. 

Heh. Mother. That was most likely never going to happen again. 

As he sat on his bed, he tenderly thought back to an interaction between the captain and the Jawa that he had come across recently.

She was sitting quietly, staring out into the galaxy. Something about her composure seemed very…off. Usually, he would find her seated,attentively watching the sky around them , her hands automatically cleaning her blasters. 

That day, she was relaxed, but not in a good way. 

They had just come back from a pretty hard bargaining customer. The job was miserable and the pay was even worse. They had to argue with said customer for about two hours until he came up with the originally agreed price. The customer’s boss gave them a small bonus as an apology and a hint to never return to their establishment ever again. It was nothing they hadn’t dealt with before but seeing as how the captain had reacted to everything after the fact, her being was worn thin. 

He was about to step in and suggest that they go take a holiday to their apartment on Nar Shaddaa when a small body rushed into the room, excitedly bouncing up and down. She seemed to sense the small presence entering the room because she sat up straight and started to turn around before she was attacked with a hug from the Jawa. 

 “Boss! You’re home! Blizz has something to show you!” the small creature spoke. 

The happiness from him seemed to radiate and infect the captain because in just a few minutes, she had her usual air back. He watched on as she carried out the Jawa in her arms as Blizz told her about his adventures while she was out.

Torian slowly got up and trudged over to where Blizz would usually be. Instead of finding the Jawa poured over something as he tried to distract himself from the matter at hand, Torian saw Mako sitting with Blizz in her lap. The alien was pressed close to the girl’s body as Mako was crying. Her eyes were extremely puffy and red from the grieving and due to the sniffles coming from the Jawa, he had also been doing his fair share of crying.

The slicer locked eyes with Torian for a few seconds before looking away, guiltily. “I’m sorry.” She mumbled quietly, refusing to look at him.

He came over and crouched near the duo. “Hey,“he started. He had to find his own words so that he did not break down in the middle of his sentence.

“It wasn’t your fault. She said to leave and that’s what we did. We just-we ju-“his voice cracked. He couldn’t do this for much longer."We were just following captain’s orders. She knew the risks and that’s what made her a great Mando.”

“But does being a great Mandalorian really count if she–she-sh-she’s dead?” Mako asked quietly, her voice breaking more with every word.

“Death in battle is an honorable death for the Mandalorians. You know this Mako.”

“Yes, but I hate it. Its just the worst ideology ever created by mankind.Its stupid. If it wasn’t for that, she would still be here.”

“Are you sure? R–Ra–R–she was always so stubborn. You couldn’t expect her to just ditch something. She wouldn’t do that. That’s not like her. She’d get the job done first and then get out and hope she made it out alive. That was our captain. She wasn’t a quitter.”

“But–”

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the doorframe. The three of them looked at the source of the noise only to find their fellow Deveronian looking at them somberly. “I hope I’m not interrupting something extremely important,"he started,"But I have found something you might want to see. Meet me by the holoterminal.”

With that, the red skinned alien left, leaving the trio to themselves. Blizz got up first. His glowing eyes stared at them. “Come on. He wouldn’t tell us anything right now unless it was about Boss.”

Torian couldn’t argue with that logic. He stood up and extended a hand to Mako. She took it and once she was up, the three of them walked up to meet Gault.

The Deveronian was standing at the holoterminal, staring at a projection of their captain. Torian watched Mako carefully to see how she would react. She was holding up quite well, for now. On the other hand, he was a different story.

The projection made everything worse. His whole being hurt as he reflexively reached up to trace her face with the side of his hand. Before he made an absolute fool of himself, his brain reminded him that she was just a projection. That’s all she was to him now. A projection of someone that once was.

He felt a hand land gently on his shoulder, bringing him back to the present. He looked over at the Deveronian.

“Gault. Have you brought us here to tease us with her image or is there something important associated with her?"Torian asked rather tensely. 

Like maybe that she’s alive.

"I get we’re all upset but that doesn’t mean you should give me that attitude. Yes, its important. I stumbled upon this when I was looking for some information about her possible whereabouts. Say like maybe if she survived the whole ordeal. Anyways, that search brought nothing, but, I did find a recording of her. I don’t know much because I didn’t go far, but it seems that it might be important to all of us. She did start out with you, Mako.” Gault responded dryly.

“Well play it then.” Torian commanded.

As much as Torian knew this would tear him apart, he just had to hear her voice at least one last time.

Gault pressed a button and the four of them watched as the image came to life.

“Okay. I really don’t know how to start these things but here goes nothing I guess. Look, I know we may not have been together for long but I wanted to do something out of my comfort zone so that I could commemorate what you guys have done for me. One of which is definitely getting me out of my comfort zone every mission we do. Anyways, I really hope that you like this because I’m not known for phrasing my words really well. So yeah, here you go guys." They watched as she nervously riffled through something off screen before turning her attention back to them. 

"To you, Mako  My slicer My sister My impulse control I have so much to thank you for You stuck with me through thick and thin You came to me with your problems And I did the same with you The bond we have will be there till the day I die That I can guarantee Thank you for everything You really are one of a kind."

"To you, Gault Rennow My friend My weird uncle My partner in crime You cannot believe how much I see I notice so much about you that you try so hard to hide Behind your suave exterior, there’s just too much How you survived so long by constantly looking over your shoulder I have not the slightest clue Just remember, you’re not alone anymore I’m here for you when you need me We can figure things out together Be it through a con Or a drunken night in a cantina Just give me a ring and I’ll be there You name the place I’ll bring the booze Or have Mako create fake identities for us Or both Your call,Tyresius" 

"To you, Torian Cadera My stars My husband My whole universe When I started this gig, I never thought, no- Never even knew That you would come crashing into my life like you did You caught me off guard with everything you had to offer Your manners Your kind smile Your dog eyes Your fluffy hair The way you make me feel inside Your excitement about hunts The list goes on and on Yet, one thing is for sure, No one can replace you Ever. As the years go by, I still remember the first time I noticed you, It was my ceremony after I had won the Great Hunt I was so strangely intrigued by your stance The air that you exuded as I passed by lured me in I wanted to get to know you during the celebration But you had disappeared When I saw you again on Dromund Kaas, I just wanted to slay the monster and impress you Your reaction was enough to tell me that I had done my job On Taris, when I caught you off guard during your ambush, I told you I was looking for Jicoln Cadera and you didn't even flinch You told me what you knew and that was that You were looking for him same as me Back when he attacked you, you stood your ground You risked your life so that I could finish my job The way you reacted when I helped you out instead of going to catch Jicoln Well let’s just keep it at: It told me enough Let me just tell you that I could not allow myself to see you die Not after I had grown attached to you without even spending one on one time I think, What I’m trying to say is that, In all of this mess that has been created No matter the cost to me, I’ll still be here and I guarantee that anyone who messes with you Will have to go through me first Because that's what family does, right? We protect each other Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum" "To you, Blizz My companion My little child My craftsman You are just the cutest thing When you work, it's like I see a whole other you You create the most astonishing things Such a small body but such a great mind Don’t lose that wonder you have It will take you far, just you wait The world will smile upon you, my dearest Jawa Boss promises you that, if not more" "To all of my crew members, Thank you. I know I probably don’t say it enough I know I probably never will But thank you. Because of you, I have people to call a family I have a place to call home I’m not really good with words when it comes to these things Partially because I keep it hidden I’m supposed to act like this bad guy- This tough gal who kills and takes credits Yes, I’m still that, but I was someone else before that I still feel hurt and scared They are feelings I know too well But because of you guys, I can forget myself I can be both this tough girl and the person from before I can’t believe we are still together as one big misfit family To be honest, I was afraid that you would leave There was the momentary panic that I had when I was falsely accused I didn’t know what you would do I asked myself what would I do if you all left I think, if you hadn’t stayed, I would have gotten myself killed Yeah, that's the most likely outcome Without you guys, I have nothing left to fight for It confused me at first as to why I feel this way I am a bounty hunter, right? I am supposed to do anything to get the job done and get my credits Anything extra was a mere distraction The best explanation I have is that my brain created a scenario A motto of sorts “A Mandalorian is only as good as his clan” And that’s what a family is, right? It's a clan. I may not have done it intentionally at first But as I went out to complete my jobs I thought about everyone that left an impression on me And then I thought on how they would fit into a family with me Lucky enough for me, everyone that I hoped would somehow trickle to me did I found each of you on different planets Every one of you was in different states Mako, you had just lost your mentor 2V-R8, you had come with the ship Gault, you had spent 30 years on the run Torian, you had lost your dad because he was my bounty Blizz, you had been captured by Chiss Hutta, Dromund Kaas,Tatooine, Taris, Hoth They might not have been the best experiences But they hold a special place in my heart Its where I found you guys I may have rambled on for too long You probably even stopped listening to me I don’t mind But by some off-chance that you still are, I just wanted to say that the only reason I even wrote this The only reason I thought about writing this Is because I wanted to thank you and tell you how I truly feel My small, special family, Thank you for sticking with me through everything I love you guys so much"

 "So yeah. I really don’t know how you guys feel about that but if you aren’t weirded out, come find me at our usual spot on Nar Shaddaa. I’m paying the tab tonight. I also have some other people I want you to meet with me so I won’t be completely alone if you decide to ditch after this.”

Torian stared in disbelief. Their crew anniversary was only a few months away but it seemed that their captain was ready for a while. Because of that, he couldn’t control his emotions and he felt himself break down crying.

The whole crew had a good cry together that night. The next day they went to drink their sorrows away together at the usual cantina be.

The next years would be hard and eventually they would split up due to differences, but until then, they would be able to do one last thing as a whole crew and just hope the crew dynamic lasted.