#BUT I GUESS THIS IS THE POWER OF REMAINING OPTIMISTIC!!!!

[numberoneredriotfan]

What do you love most about rodydeku?

I love pretty much every aspect about them. But I guess what I would say is that I love how their characters foil one another.

Deku, someone who remained optimistic about his goals and dreams, who always had high hopes that someday his dreams would become reality. And they did.

And then Rody, who had to let go of his dreams and face the reality of his situation. He didn't have time to fill his mind with delusions, he had his siblings to provide for.

Deku would save the people he loved as well as the rest of the world because he has the ability to do so. Rody would sacrifice the world for the people he loves, because he doesn't have the ability to choose both. There's only so much he has in his power.

Overall, I love how their characters influence one another. How they can learn from each other. Specifically, from how Rody learned from Deku.

[catonatrain]

hi everyone first and foremost im very happy takao even got to the third round so i made a little doodle of him !! my silly orange basketball guy!!

i also need everyone to know that it is a challenge to find things to talk about without talking about my favorite takao scene but its ok!! that will not stop me!!

in the last two rounds, my friend and i have talked about who takao is, his basketball superpower, his personality, how he is OrangeTM, stuff from his character songs and more here and here!

for this post, im going to talk about random different moments from that i liked!!

look at him talking to this child, offering to get her balloon (by offering up his tall friend but that's beside the point)

2. theres a time where his partner midorima is having an extremely unlucky day, where hes getting drenched by water, dropping ceramic sculptures, getting choked by a scarf, barely avoiding getting crushed by construction material

when this happens, takao offers to stay with him because he says its dangerous to leave him alone! and midorima is being all huffy about it going like... you dont have to worry about me... in which takao is like of course i worry

he then goes to say like yeah cant have you dying!! in which midorima doesnt know how to react so takao is like haha im just hoping to see you get into funny situations and then midorima is like hmph thought so

and then takao is like sheesh he gets uncomfortable and confused when teammates worry about him (earlier takao told their other teammates about midorimas unlucky day so everyone was fretting over him)

and i just thought it was a little sweet that he did this!! he knows midorima doesnt know how to react to all this concern and attention so takao acts AnnoyingTM to make it a bit easier for him

and then afterwards takao does follow midorima home, choosing to make sure he's all safe rather than go to basketball practice

(also disclaimer that i dont know japanese-- im paraphrasing to the best of my ability when i did read someones translation of this a while back!!)

3. he has has a rivalry with the main character kuroko!! when he first goes up against kuroko, he says that midorima would say its fate that theyre going up against each other-- and then he adds that he believes in it too, despite the fact takao doesnt believe in fate

they even have a duet together and this is a line takao says about kuroko, once again talking about fate... his partners interest in astrology and fate was so strong it got takao believing in it too

I guess neither one of us wants to lose, huh? Should we call it fate? I’ll be the one to stop you

and look at them here off the basketball court being very silly together

4. i mentioned before that takaos basketball superpower is being able to see the basketeball court from a birds eye view; in one drama cd, midorima and him use the abillty to play a crane game and they win a whole bunch of goat plushies which i think is hilarious

5. look at him bking people around-- taking midorima out to hang out with others despite the fact midorima was scared to go out that day and and giving directions to tatsuya who got the worst directions ever

thank you everyone for reading!! as always if you give a vote for takao that'd make me super happy!

also because i worked hard on it, im going to show everyone this edit again :D

Bracket 4, Round 3

[deadpresidents]

Thanks for being real today.

I get people wanting to be hopeful.

But I can't with "it will be okay" and "we will survive this."

It was not okay for Heather Heyer, Joseph Rosenbaum, Anthony Huber, Joyce Fienberg, Richard Gottfried, Rose Mallinger, Jerry Rabinowitz, Cecil & David Rosenthal, Bernice & Sylvan Simon, Daniel Stein, Melvin Wax, Irving Younger, Andre Anchondo, Jordan Anchondo, Arturo Benavides, Leonardo Campos, Angie Englisbee, Maria Flores, Raul Flores, Guillermo "Memo" Garcia, Jorge Calvillo García, Adolfo Cerros Hernández, Alexander Gerhard Hoffman, David Johnson, Luis Alfonzo Juarez, Maria Eugenia Legarreta Rothe, Maribel (Campos) Loya, Ivan Filiberto Manzano, Elsa Mendoza Marquez, Gloria Irma Márquez, Margie Reckard, Sara Esther Regalado Moriel, Javier Rodriguez, Teresa Sanchez, Juan Velazquez, or any of the other people killed by white supremacists whose actions were aided and abetted by the Trump presidency. These people did not survive. Not to mention all the people who haven't survived COVID, but might have if the Trump administration had taken timely action. Or the women who have died after being refused appropriate medical care because of the rapist and his buddies that Trump appointed decided with some weird pastor in the 1600 said was more important than the lives of actual living, breathing, human beings. Or the school children who would not have been shot to death if we had actual gun control laws in this country, a thing that would have been possible to achieve if Trump had lost in 2016.

Yeah, sure, the majority of us in the United States will probably survive. That's how statistics work. And if that's what somebody needs to hear in order to move forward, then I guess saying such things has a purpose. But it's looking pretty shitty for anybody living in Ukraine and to me, it comes across as disrespectful to the people whose lives have been lost in no small part thanks to what goes down in US elections.

I needed somebody today who would say not only that this is not okay, but this is *really* not okay.

Thanks for being that voice.

Thank you for this. I can't help but write what I feel, even if some of it hasn't been the most optimistic message to send. There is a reality that we need to come to terms with in order to find some way forward. I'm pissed off and I'm disgusted with this country, so I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing because it is therapeutic for me right now and I'm too old to go around punching and kicking people.

I do want to say that I'm also cognizant of the fact that some people just need some time to allow this reality to settle. I certainly don't want to add to the stress or darkness that some of us are feeling right now. There is no denying that this is fucking terrible, but we will regroup and find a way through it. It won't be easy and we're going to have to fight, but I don't want anybody to think that there is genuinely no hope. There's always something that we can do, even if it seems bleak.

If I'm writing something or somebody else is saying something that you're not ready to hear, it's okay to do what you need to do to remain healthy. These posts are going to be here whenever you might feel like reading them. You can and should step away from this if you just need a fucking break. It doesn't mean you're any less ready or willing to fight this battle than anybody else. Even if Trump and the rotten MAGA cult takes control of every lever of power, you can gain a personal victory by not allowing them to completely crush your faith in the future. You can be depressed and despair, but do not give up. Do not give them that power over you. We will find a way. We will get through this. We will figure out what it is that we need to do and who we need to back and how we need to attack, but taking care of your personal health and well-being is more immediately important than the bigger political battle or the next step in the resistance. Take care of yourselves first and we'll still be here and ready to eventually harness this anger and frustration and fucking disgust to defeat the MAGA movement and Trump's Christian nationalist personality cult.

The main thing, though, is that if you're really having a tough time in the immediate future, step away, take some time, go for a walk, read something that has absolutely nothing to do with Donald Trump or American politics (if you need suggestions, I always have book recommendations!), and regroup. Again, we'll get through this, and as goofy and weird and ridiculous as Tumblr can be at times, there's always a community of people on this site willing to listen and help each other when we're struggling. So, if you are having trouble getting to tomorrow, reach out because there are scores of people here who will help get there with you.

[niuniente]

PICK A CARD WITH NIU Choose an image (or more than 1) and read below a message meant for you from The Spiritual Realm. Only take what resonated with you and leave the rest.

I thought that since I can't keep up with the Youtube channel, I can allow some simple pick a cards here.

☕ 1: Tea and Pulla Sweet Bun 🥐

A saving grace is right on the horizon. This is the famous 11th hour, when the door finally opens and the solution arrives just when you have given up. To reach this liberation you're seeking, you need to allow yourself just to be. It's OK not to know. It's OK not to have the answers. This is a card of a positive surrender where you throw your hands up in the air and admit that you've done all you can - now the rest is in the hands of some higher power. Once you surrender and allow currents to take you, you can finally get your solutions, answers and have the doors opening. Imagine this as a situation where you try to pull a door open. You have been trying too hard. You've tried all you can imagine to get that damn door open. Finally, all tired and frustrated, you give up and just toss yourself against the door with a shout "I give up!". And, you know what? That door was a push door. It was never going to open by you pulling it but you were so busy telling yourself that you have to get this door open and giving all you've got and some beyond to get the door open that you never realized that it was a push door. 

Same kind of letting go is needed now. Letting go of the reins is scary but worth it. If your life has already been in chaos and you have already surrendered, then know that it will pay off. Likely faster than you realized.  This need to let go of control and trying too hard can fall into any area of life; work, school, relationships, love, hobbies, interests etc.

Remember that no matter how many setbacks you've had, no matter how often you have failed, no matter how hard you have tried, you have not been abandoned. You're on the right track. The Universe will step in and set things for your favor, no matter how impossible it would seem to you. Relax and let this storm pass, as you can't tell a storm to stop or go away. You've got this. Be more gentle with yourself and give yourself credit for; life has been hard but you've gone so far. It will get better. If it didn't, you wouldn't be reading this message now.

If you want a personal private reading, order one from my Etsy.

🐤 Picture 2: Bird and Cherry Tree 🌸

Congratulations are in order! A lucky strike is about to hit you! Things will turn into your favor and you can literally see some sort of a figurative spring arriving to your life, maybe after a figurative winter. This is a good time to take risks, gamble and most importantly remain optimistic and positive. Have a sense of ease and fun, as things will work out for your favor, in a way or another. This lucky strike can fall on a certain area of life or on multiple areas of life at the same time; health, work, study, relationships, love, finances, move etc. If you are an adult and hoping to get pregnant, this is a good time for pregnancy. For singles, go out there and mingle!

You are asked to feel the thrill of victory and gratitude towards this win of yours, even if it wasn't here yet. Just like a child on a birthday or some other occasion, where you know something wonderful will definitely happen and you don't even second guess it. Allow yourself to take this good luck, this golden ticket from Lady Luck. Don't feel guilty for being victorious and having things working out for you. If you are in a situation where all is at ease and life is easy, fun and abundant to you, don't feel guilty or ashamed of this. You feeling miserable because someone else is miserable and unlucky will only have two people - you and the other - feel miserable.

This win feels very personal. It is possible that you can't share this with others, like for example the pregnancy I mentioned earlier; only you or your partner can be pregnant with the baby meant for you. Only you can get that job. Only you can graduate now. Only you can take that trip. Only you can win something meant for you. If you get a financial windfall, invest into your own self first. Be generous towards yourself. You've earned this!

If you want a personal private reading, order one from my Etsy

🌏 Picture 3: The Planet and Stars ⭐

You might have set your eyes on a goal (or plan to do so) which will require hard work and loving discipline. Hard work and patience is needed with this goal, and it is possible that this goal is either a bit hard to reach, takes a long time to reach or it's rare in a way that not many have gone after it. Such a goal can be anything from saving money for a big purchase, learning a new skill or a new language, exercising for a certain body, painting a gigantic mural, transitioning, wanting to cover yourself with tattoos, or even just growing your hair really long.

You are asked to have a sense of success and abundance as you go towards this goal; I can do this! I've got what's needed to obtain it! I can make it! It's worth it! This goal might be something which has been on your mind for a long time and perhaps you have tipped your toe in its waters but now, the time seems to be right for this journey - all the way to the victorious end goal. You've grown, you've planned, you've investigated, you've given yourself time to consider this. This card gives me a feel of a mature decision, whether this goal of yours is a new style or a business of your own. Whatever is calling you, it is calling you for a reason. This call is positive.

You might need to let go of something or someone to obtain this goal, because it's going to ask for either a bigger transformation or more of your time and resources. If you, for example, learn a new language you need to clear space from your daily schedule for it. Or, if you are going to save money for something big, you have to cut down your expenses. Or, perhaps you want to obtain a job, a home or an education which is available in a different city/state/country and it requires you to move. Also, moving from singlehood to a relationship or from a bad relationship to a singlehood is this kind of a shift this card is talking about. Don't hesitate to let go of things and make room for this change. Keep going, you can do this and in the future, you will be happy that you kept going and allowed yourself to explore this option.

If you want a personal private reading, order one from my Etsy

[autismasgore]

i'm leaving the fandom

so i already posted about this on twitter with a shorter explanation but after a long while of being in the undertale fandom, i've decided to distance myself from it. i'm not sure if i'll ever make a public return on any of these accounts, but for now i've decided that i feel this is what's best for me mentally.

i'm kind of surprised i haven't already, to be honest, but i guess for a good while i was able to focus on the passion and love i had for the game. nowadays, i've been finding it harder and harder to interact with the fandom as a whole - for a multitude of reasons really.

many of you are already aware i went through a stalking incident over asgore discourse, which lasted from late 2019 to 2023. it was the most traumatizing years of my life, and i don't even remember a time where i actually felt at peace with myself during those years. the only time i remember being happy was pouring all of my focus onto undertale even harder, just to try and cope with what was going on. it didn't help that at the time, my abusive family was blaming me for being stalked and telling me i was just doing this all for attention and that i loved the "drama" of it.

i really didn't want to do this, because it feels like such a huge betrayal of everything i've loved for so long (hi, i'm autistic and undertale was my special interest, in case you haven't noticed yet LOL) but at this point i associate too many traumatic memories with undertale, specifically the fandom.

since getting more into steven universe and browsing the fandom casually it made me realise just how toxic the undertale fandom is as a community right now. i mean, let's be real, it's always been this way, but i feel like it's gotten a whole lot more worse lately - more insane.

it honestly felt like such a huge breath of fresh air to go into a fandom tag that Didn't have any toxic sludge or people discoursing about liking certain characters (cough Asgore cough) and whether or not that makes you a bad person. it felt like total whiplash, seeing people discussing a show they liked and sharing fanart instead of seeing constant discourse about it.

i've also been seeing a lot of my friends go through absolute fucking bullshit lately, and it's honestly really stressful because it felt like my stalker incident was becoming a more popularized and public sentiment in the fandom. which... honestly is scary to me. people are becoming more openly hostile, more openly insane with their accusations. i've been trying to remain hopeful and optimistic about the fandom, but the more things that have happened, the less hopeful i feel.

i don't want to be in this sort of community. i don't want to be in a community where people feel glee in hurting others, tearing other people down and slinging around serious accusations because it makes them feel powerful.

i want to be in a community/fandom that makes me feel actual joy, and not a constant source of stress.

there's also another reason why i decided to distance myself online rn as well, and it's not really related, but it was enough that i feel incredibly uncomfortable going by the name "pixie" rn.

last year, a youtuber i knew decided to put me on blast and straight up called me an abuse apologist and that i should be avoided at all costs, all bc i quietly distanced myself from posting publicly about the situation and decided to avoid jumping to conclusions.

i don't entirely blame them, since there's definitely things i feel i could have done better, but a lot of what they said was already privately resolved between us, and they left a lot of that out in order to paint a false narrative about me. i mean they literally had saved hundreds of deleted posts from my deleted old social media accounts. i know this because they've done this before with other people. i also know that this comes from a place of hurt and anger, they're lashing out at a community they felt hurt by, but their way of coping with it isn't healthy.

because they had thousands of followers, i started getting a ton of harassment, from people saying i wasn't trustworthy and calling me an abuse apologist, and even private nasty dms i don't really want to get into.

i didn't say anything at the time bc i was worried i'd come across as attention seeking/manipulative but. i became straight up actively suicidal after this. i was convinced nothing was going to ever get better for me and that i was an active danger to everyone. my mum ended up dragging me all the way to the city literally just to buy me the macbook i wanted in order to try and cheer me up, and even then i felt so depressed that i felt like i didn't have anything to look forward to. honestly the only thing that really kept me going was my friends privately supporting me.

to put it short, it felt like a repeat of my stalker situation and i don't feel comfortable going by pixie anymore because i associate so much trauma with that name right now. i feel like so many people who don't have good faith intentions know me as that name, more than people i'm friends with.

i don't even know if i'll ever post on social media ever again, or at least not in the way i used to. if i do end up making a new social media with a new rebrand, you won't hear from me about it. i want to be more private now.

tl;dr if you're still reading this, thank you for sticking by me for so long. this ended up being a lot longer than i anticipated, but i think i'm done with the name "pixie", and i think i'm done with the undertale fandom for now.

i know i'll be able to move on into a better place once i move forward to this chapter.

thanks for the memories.

[thatturtleleon]

A little analysis for TFP characters and their colors:

Blue coded characters-

"Secondary characters". These characters are often the co-leaders. Although they're pretty chill, they can act reckless and impulsively. Which leads to others keeping them in check. They are strong on the outside and inside, yet are usually some of the most insecure characters. Even if they don't appear so at first.

Red coded characters-

Red is a heroic color. It's bold and represents leadership and passion. Red characters can be calm and level headed. However, their impulsive instincts can cause them to rush into danger to save someone. Even if that means the red character themself will be greatly injured. These characters also usually have a strong connection to blue characters.

Yellow coded characters-

These characters are seen as cheerful and optimistic. They brighten the mood up and have a youthful energy to them. However, their negative emotions can be just as strong. Yellow coded characters wear their emotions. If they are sad, so is everyone else. If they are happy, everyone else is too.

Ratchet is interesting, because his colors are mostly white and orange. Orange typically represents outgoing, extroverted, 100% energy characters- and that's not exactly ratchet lol. White could be his color, because it represents good and guidance. However, I don't really see ratchet as a "guide" for anyone? He's a medic who always sticks next to optimus's side. More of an equal. Though, I guess he could be seen as a "guide" to Raf? Kind of like a teacher/older parental figure to the younger characters like the kids and Bumblebee.

Green coded characters-

These guys are tough, really tough. They know exactly what they want and are very stubborn. Even though they're stubborn and all of that, they are actually pretty easy to get along with. Green coded characters can be gentle and strong at once, which makes them likeable and easy to be around.

Purple coded characters-

Refined, calm, smart, occasionally evil, these all describe purple coded characters. They remain cool under pressure, only cracking when something really gets to them. They're intellectual and often associated with royalty or of higher power. Although they are one of the smartest characters, they dream big. So big that their goals are hard to reach and almost impossible. Therefore, these characters can lose their calm attitude when they are desperate to get what they want.

[simping4villains]

I may be a slut for the spiders, but they aren’t the only villains I simp for. Here’s a Shigaraki x Reader oneshot I wrote awhile back (well, it was supposed to be a oneshot but then I wrote a second part and now I might keep working on it, who knows?) Any way, it’s pretty wild, so read at your own risk.

Warnings: Mature content (heavy smut), degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, bondage, knife play, sadism/masochism

A/N: Yikes, I'm going to hell for this one. Hope y'all like it at least! <3

~~~~~

You were soaked to the bone with rainwater as you and Tomu pushed through the door of his apartment. It felt dreary even once he'd turned the lights on. You thought maybe this was why he hadn't let you see it in the almost four months that you'd been together.

There were a lot of things the two of you seemed to be on a delayed timeline for. You hadn't seen his apartment, you hadn't met any of his friends yet, and you still had yet to be intimate with one another.

You couldn't hold the last one against him, though. He'd always seemed afraid to touch you. You guessed it was because of his quirk. He was worried that he'd accidentally end up killing you if he wasn't careful, but you trusted him.

You had grown up around powerful quirks like his—well, not exactly like his. Your mother was a pro hero who went by Fahrenheit. She could regulate the temperature of the environment around her, able to sweat villains out of hostage situations or instantly create shards of ice to fight with if there was enough moisture in the air.

She had been killed by a group of villains when you were still fairly young, and your dad searched for comfort in the bottoms of beer bottles after losing her. Your Aunt Marci stepped in to raise you. She had never married or had any children of her own, that wasn't the kind of life she wanted for herself, but she never made you feel like a burden. You thought maybe she had a soft spot for you since you had her sister's eyes.

Or maybe it was the quirk that you had inherited from her. Your temperature quirk wasn't as powerful as your mother's had been. It was only limited to your own body. It wasn't something that would ever let you be a pro hero, not that that was what you wanted, but it did come in handy sometimes on chilly mornings.

After your mother's death, Aunt Marci did all she could to separate herself from the world of pro heroes. She didn't want any reminders that the villains who killed her sister were still at large. You remembered that she would always throw away the morning paper as soon as it arrived and there was never a TV in the small apartment that the two of you had shared. You didn't see the point in purchasing one when you'd finally gotten an apartment of your own.

Most people had given you strange looks when you'd told them that, but not Tomu. He seemed amused, commenting on how he admired the way you were trying to remain optimistic about the state of the world.

"Should I not be?" you'd asked him.

"I don't want to ruin the illusion." Was all that he'd said.

Tomura never made you feel strange about anything that you shared with him. Even when you'd told him you'd never played video games—something he seemed to enjoy—he just smiled and promised he'd teach you. That was what brought you to his apartment today.

He pulled his hood off of his head and shook out his hair, letting the wet locks fall lazily back into his face. He was beautiful. He never believed you when you told him, but that still didn't stop you from saying it. You weren't sure he'd heard it enough before meeting you.

"What are you looking at?" He asked when he caught you staring.

"Are you cold?" You asked, noticing that he was shivering. You were hoping that your gawking could be mistaken for concern. He didn't really seem to be in a mood to be called cute.

"I'll be fine."

"Don't be ridiculous," you said, pulling him closer and wrapping your arms around his torso so he could benefit from your quirk.

He seemed tense at first, almost uncomfortable, but relaxed into your embrace once your body heat radiated into his skin. He was still pretty hesitant about physical touch in any form. Again, because of his quirk. You were trying to help him become more comfortable with it. You trusted him enough to believe that he wouldn't hurt you.

You felt him wrap his arms around your shoulders, careful to keep his hands pointed away from you as he held you closer. He gently kissed the top of your head before nuzzling into your neck. Your heart skipped at the rare sign of affection.

"You're too good to me, y/n," he murmured.

You pulled away from him slightly, just enough to look at him, and pushed the hair away from his face so that your eyes met. "I'm not giving you anything less than what you deserve."

He shook his head. "I don't deserve you."

He tried to bury his face in your neck again, but you wouldn't let him. He was always trying to brush off any compliments or words of endearment that you gave him. It was like he didn't believe any of it, like he couldn't see himself the way that you did. You needed him to.

"Tomura, yes you do." You rested your hand on his cheek, cupping his jaw so that he couldn't look away. "You're a good person. I wouldn't love you if—"

You stopped yourself. That was another thing that hadn't come yet in your relationship. Neither of you had said the L-word and you didn't intend to be the first, you weren't sure how Tomura would react, but it had just sort of slipped out.

He was frozen before you, his expression unreadable.

You dropped your hand from his face and abruptly made an attempt to change the subject. "So, um, anyway, are you gonna show me around your place or what?"

Tomura hung your coats up by the door before leading you through his apartment, turning lights on as he went.

"This is the kitchen," he gestured to the room you'd entered by. "And this is the living room," he said. The two spaces flowed into each other. He crossed the room and bent down in front of the television, rummaging through the cabinets of the stand that it was rested on. "There are a few different systems we could play on. I'll let you pick the game that you want to—"

"Where's your bedroom?" You asked.

He looked back over his shoulder. "Oh. You wanted to see that too?"

You nodded.

He sighed and stood up. "Alright."

You followed him through a short hallway between the two rooms. On one side appeared to be a bathroom and a closet and on the other was his bedroom.

The only sources of light in his room seemed to be the LED lights that ran along the tops of his walls, and his computer monitor, though there were a few empty cans blocking the light at the bottom of the screen. In this dim lighting, you could see clothes strewn about on the floor. The walls were pretty bare and there was minimal furniture. He had told you before that he travelled a lot for work, so you figured it made sense that he hadn't done much decorating or anything.

He sat down on the unmade bed and watched as you looked around. "Is it what you expected?"

"More or less," you said.

He scratched at his neck. He had a habit of doing that when he was anxious. "I'm sorry it's such a mess. I didn't think you'd come in here."

You sat down beside him, setting a hand on his leg to try to comfort him. "It's alright. I don't mind."

When he didn't seem to calm down, you pulled his hand away from his neck, replacing it with your own and gently caressing his now-irritated skin. You could feel the ridges of the scars left by his nervous habit. You wished he wouldn't hurt himself like this.

You ran your hand along his shoulder and back up to his hair, lightly playing with it in an attempt to soothe him. It seemed to be working. He tilted his head back and hummed in satisfaction. You were suddenly aware of how close you were. Could this finally be your chance to make a move?

You tilted his face in your direction and leaned in to kiss him, but he stopped you.

"Y/n."

"What?" You asked, trying your best to adopt an innocent tone.

He frowned. "I know what you're doing. I'm sorry, but I can't. I don't want to hurt you."

"Tomu, I trust you. I have faith that you can control your quirk."

He shook his head. "That's not all that I'm worried about."

"I don't understand. What do you mean?"

He turned his body to you and grabbed your jaw harshly so that you were forced to look at him. Even sitting down, it still felt like he was towering over you, his presence suddenly intimidating instead of the usual gentle aura you'd grown so used to. This was an entirely different side of him.

His eyes went dark and he ran his thumb over your lips as he spoke. "I won't be able to hold myself back, not with you. I want to break you, to watch tears stream down your face as you beg for mercy. I want you to scream my name until your throat burns. I won't be satisfied until I've completely ruined you."

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you blinked in surprise. This was the absolute last thing you'd expected from him. Why was it always the quiet ones?

He dropped his hand. "So, it's probably best if we don't—"

You shut him up with a kiss. You were tired of him having these negative thoughts that he wasn't enough or that his way of showing affection wouldn't work for you. You needed him to understand that he was all you longed for.

"I'm yours, Tomura," you said, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip. "You can have me however you want me. I'm not afraid."

He pulled you onto his lap so that you were straddling him.

"However I want, huh?" he murmured beside your ear. You could hear the smirk in his voice. "You might end up regretting those words."

He bit the tender skin of your neck before sucking the same spot until it bruised. He repeated this a few more times, being careful to space the marks out so your neck was fully covered. He didn't want his hard work to be so easily hidden.

You couldn't help but moan at the sensation. You had waited so long for this and his touch was absolutely intoxicating.

He gave a satisfied hum in return. "Mm, I like that."

You felt him growing beneath you and began slowly moving your hips back and forth, trying to get even the smallest amount of friction between the two of you. He responded to your movements with an amused laugh.

"Eager, are we?"

Your cheeks started to burn. How desperate you must have seemed. What did he think of you now?

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he said as if reading your mind. He leaned back on his elbows so that he could get a better look at you. "Keep going, you needy slut."

You couldn't bring yourself to do it. You hadn't been able to control yourself before, but now that he was watching you, you felt even more self conscious.

He sighed impatiently and sat back up, grabbing your hips with only four fingers on each hand, careful not to use his quirk on you. He started rocking your hips back and forth. You couldn't help the moans that escaped your throat.

"That's it. Let me hear how bad you want it. Don't hold back for me."

He pressed sloppy kisses to your lips as he helped you fuck yourself closer to release. You knew your climax wouldn't come like this, though. It wouldn't be enough.

"Tomura," you breathed between kisses.

"Yes, baby?" He moved down your neck, kissing and biting the tender flesh once more. The sensation sent heat through your body.

"I-I need—"

He cut you off with a harsh bite. "What do you need?"

"I need—"

He did it again. "What, baby? Just say it and it's yours." Even the feeling of his breath on your neck was driving you wild. He knew what he was doing. He would keep toying with you for as long as he wanted, probably never giving in. It was cruel.

"More," you managed before he had the chance to interrupt you with his teasing.

He stopped moving your hips completely. "I don't know. You didn't ask very nicely. In fact, it seemed more like a demand." He reached up and grabbed your hair, pulling your head back. A sharp hiss passed through your teeth at the sudden pain. "You don't get to make demands."

"Tomura, please," you begged. "I need you."

He hummed. "Please? That's more like it."

He grabbed at the material of your shirt and pants and you watched as they both turned to ash before flitting away into nothingness. Then, he did the same to his own clothes, so that all that separated you was the thin material of his boxers and your panties.

You could feel everything now, and it made you impatient. You started to rock against him, but he grabbed you, holding you still.

"Not yet," he whispered to you, kissing down your neck slowly until he reached your chest. His lips lightly traced the edge of your bra before he reached around to unhook it, pushing it off of your shoulders and throwing it to the floor. His eyes roamed your now almost-entirely exposed body, taking in every curve and dip before meeting your own gaze. "You're so beautiful," he said, leaning in for a kiss, but stopping just before he reached your lips. He grabbed your jaw and turned your head to the side, licking a stripe up your neck. "I can't wait to ruin you."

You gasped as his fingers pushed your panties aside, sliding through your folds. The hand that was on your jaw moved to put pressure on your throat while Tomu's mouth explored your breasts, sucking and biting at your nipples. The sensations all came together in harmony, pulling moans from you and nearly setting your body on fire. You couldn't help but buck your hips against his hand, desperate for release.

You felt him laugh against your chest. "Such an impatient little slut."

He dipped two fingers inside of you, keeping his thumb on your clit. His long digits found your sensitive spot almost instantly, abusing it as they pumped in and out of you at a rapid pace. This, combined with the quick circles he was drawing over your clit, had you seeing stars, threatening to send you over the edge at any moment.

You grabbed at his shoulders, at his hair, at anything you could reach to ground yourself. "Tomura—fuck—don't stop!"

You felt four fingers leave your throat to grab your ass, digging in so tightly that they were sure to leave bruises. Tomura kissed you again, running his tongue against your lips and using one of your moans as an opportunity to explore your mouth.

Finally, the knot in your stomach snapped and your orgasm washed over you in powerful waves. You melted against Tomura, trying to catch your breath as you came down from your high.

But he didn't stop. He didn't even slow down.

"T-Tomu," you whimpered. You could feel the faint sensation of another knot building, despite the irritation you felt from the overstimulation. "Why aren't you stopping?"

"I told you not to make demands," he said, his voice cold.

"What?"

"You said 'don't stop.' This is what happens when you don't listen, when you don't ask for the things that you want."

Panic settled in as you realized that this was his way of punishing you.

He coaxed another orgasm out of you, quicker than before. Your legs quivered and a numb pain was building in your core from too much stimulation, but still, he pressed on. Your third and fourth orgasms came quicker, and without as much satisfaction. It was all too much, bordering unbearable.

"Tomu," you begged, "please stop."

You whimpered against his shoulder, head buried in his neck as your nails dug into his back. Tears were burning trails down your cheeks. You could feel a fifth orgasm building, but you didn't want it. You couldn't go through another one so soon.

"Have you learned your lesson?" He asked.

You nodded against him. "Yes, I'm so sorry. Please, it's too much." His hand pulled away from you just before you reached another orgasm. You sighed in relief, barely able to believe that he'd actually listened. "Thank you," you whispered, letting more tears fall.

He pulled you back by your hair so he could look at you. This was exactly what he'd wanted. "Aw baby, look at what a mess you are." He leaned in and licked the tears off of your cheeks. "Do you need a break before I fuck you?"

You nodded, not imagining how you could handle taking him right now. You were still far too overstimulated, it would only hurt.

"Alright," he said, brushing away the hair that had been plastered to your face with sweat. "Get on your knees, then."

You felt your eyes widen in shock, but you did as he said. You didn't want to risk finding out what would happen if you refused.

He stood before you and pulled down his boxers so that you were face to face with his cock. The angry, red tip was already leaking precum. He was so hard that he was practically throbbing.

"Well?" He asked impatiently.

You tentatively wrapped a hand around his shaft, giving a few strokes and running your thumb along the tip. He let out a hiss that told you you were doing something right. You parted your lips and pressed your tongue to his base, licking a stripe up his length before taking him in your mouth. You bobbed your head and swirled your tongue around his tip, slowly building up a rhythm.

He moaned and grabbed your hair, pulling it back into a ponytail to keep it out of your face. You looked up at him in appreciation, meeting his gaze.

He smirked. "Three taps to stop, alright?"

You didn't have a chance to process what he'd meant when he suddenly shoved the rest of his length down your throat. You gagged around him, shocked by the sudden intrusion. He didn't even give you enough time to adjust before he started fucking your face, snapping his hips at an alarming rate.

You were choking on him, digging your nails into your palms to cope with the pain as tears pricked your eyes once more. His moans filled the room. You looked up to see his eyes were fluttered shut, his brow furrowed in concentration as he chased his release. That sight alone made it all worth it.

His movements became more erratic, hips starting to stutter, which told you he was close. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth before he came, painting the back of your throat with hot ropes of cum. Finally, he pulled out, with a string of saliva and other fluids connecting your lips with his tip. You gasped for air, filling your deprived lungs.

He ran a few fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so he could look at you. Then, swiping his thumb across your lips, cleaning up some of the mess he'd made, he said, "Such a good little whore," admiring how absolutely ruined you looked now with tears and mascara running down your face.

But he wasn't done with you yet. Not even close.

"Get on the bed," he snapped.

You scrambled to your feet, legs still unsteady from the multiple orgasms he'd given you. You apparently weren't fast enough in following his orders, because he shoved you over the side of the bed, burying your face in the mattress. You heard the drawer of his nightstand open, followed by the sounds of him rummaging through, looking for something, and finally the drawer closed again.

"What's your safe word?" he asked. Your heart started racing as you felt him binding your wrists together with a thin rope.

"Safe word?" You echoed, your voice muffled by his comforter.

"Yeah." He gave the rope a final tug and ran the tips of his fingers up your spine, making you shiver. "So I know to stop if it's too much."

You lifted your head and looked around. Your gaze landed on his computer screensaver. It was a tree that cycled through the four seasons.

"How about 'foliage'?"

He laughed. "Foliage?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, that's fine. Just don't forget it."

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs, helping you step out of them. You heard his boxers drop on the floor shortly after.

You felt him standing behind you again. You had goosebumps on your skin, not because you were cold, but because you were fully exposed to him now.

He ran his hand between your legs, dipping his fingers through your folds. "Mm, still so wet. You're so desperate."

He pulled his hand away and brought it down hard on your ass. You gave a small yelp of shock, but secretly liked the way it stung. He replaced the hand between your legs with his cock, grinding it back and forth against you. You whined at his teasing.

"What's wrong?" He asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You didn't want to answer. Everything he'd said about you being a desperate slut was true, but you didn't want to admit it, especially since you expected he'd only continue to deprive you if he knew how badly you needed him.

He smacked your ass again when you didn't answer. "I asked you a question."

You bit your lip to hold back another sharp cry. "Nothing's wrong."

"You're a terrible liar. There's something on your mind." He grabbed your hair and yanked you back so that he spoke directly next to your ear. "Tell me what it is."

"I. . . I want you."

He dropped you back on the bed, continuing to tease between your legs. "You have me, baby. I'm all yours."

"You know that's not what I mean."

"Ohhh," he pretended to have just realized what he'd known the whole time. "You mean you want me in here?" He teased your entrance with his tip.

"Yes," you sighed.

"Then why didn't you just ask?"

He slowly pushed into you, filling you up and stretching you out. If your hands had been by your head, you would've been gripping the bed sheets, but they were tied behind your back, so you settled for digging your nails into your palms.

Once he was all the way in, he stilled, giving your walls a moment to adjust to his size. Then he grabbed the rope that bound your wrists and started fucking you like he hated you. You bit the bedsheets, trying to keep yourself from crying out, but your attempts were futile.

"What are you whining for? I'm giving you what you wanted."

His strokes were rough and merciless and you wondered how this could be the same man who always touched you like he might break you. This was a side of Tomura you had never seen, a side you had never believed existed.

You loved it.

You gasped in protest when he pulled out of you, which resulted in him smacking your ass again and telling you to stop complaining, ordering you to get on your back in the middle of the bed. He helped you bring your bound arms around in front of you. Then he climbed over you and pinned them above your head before sinking into you once more.

Your back arched against the mattress, toes curling. You loved this angle. You loved the feeling of his body on yours, you loved getting to look at him, and you loved the way he groaned as he used you.

"That's it. What a good little slut you are," he said, grazing the shell of your ear with his teeth.

He untied your wrists and pulled one of your legs over his shoulder and suddenly he was hitting your most sensitive spot with every stroke, pounding it with a brutal force.

"Fuck! Tomura!" You threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut as you were overwhelmed with pleasure.

He grabbed you by the neck and jolted you forward again. "Hey, I want you to look at me."

You nodded, focusing on his bright scarlet eyes. He was so fucking beautiful. How could he not see if?

He squeezed your throat. "Say you're mine."

"I-I'm yours," you choked out.

You were starting to feel lightheaded and dizzy, but oh, so warm and tingly too. All that kept you grounded was the feeling of Tomura fucking you relentlessly. And then, as he let go of your throat and you felt the intoxicating rush of oxygen returning to your brain, there was the sharp sting of a blade against your thigh.

A deep moan erupted from your chest. It should've hurt, but you had too much adrenaline from being choked, so it only added to your pleasure. Your hands flew to his shoulders, digging small crescents into his skin with your nails.

"Say it again." Tomura's fingers were once more wrapped around your throat.

As sick as it was, you were hoping for the same outcome. "I'm y—"

"No, not that," he snapped. The ice behind his gaze melted for just a second, and in that moment you saw your sweet, gentle Tomu in his eyes. To hide it, he bent down and nipped at your ear. "Say you love me."

You were glad he couldn't see your reaction. You were suddenly embarrassed. He hadn't said it back earlier and now he was using it against you? It felt almost cruel, but still you obeyed.

"I love you."

He released his hand from your throat and dragged another cut along your thigh.

"Shit," you breathed, digging your nails deeper into his skin.

He laughed. "You like that, don't you?"

You nodded, still coming back down from the high.

He shook his head, running his hand through your hair. "God, I fucking love you."

Your lips met in a frenzied passion. It was sloppy and wet, but you had never had a more perfect kiss.

He moved his hand between the two of you, circling your clit again with his thumb.

You flinched, worried you'd end up with another repeat of what had happened earlier.

As if reading your mind, he rested his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you. Even his tone was more gentle as he spoke. "It's okay, baby, no more games. You've been so good. I just want you to cum with me. Can you do that?"

"Yes." You had felt the pressure in your stomach for a while. You thought for sure it would snap with that last cut he made, but you surprised yourself and resisted.

He sped up his pace. You could tell he was growing closer as his thrusts became more erratic. Still, he kept working your bundle of nerves and swirling his hips to maximize your pleasure. You were so close to the edge, you weren't sure how much longer you could hold on.

"Tomura," you whimpered.

"I'm almost there, baby, I promise. You're being—mm fuck—so good."

After a few more thrusts, he held you close to him and you felt his cock twitch inside of you, filling you with his seed. At the same time, your orgasm rippled through your body, causing your walls to clench around him. You raked your nails down his back as you cried out his name.

He rested his weight on you and nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing heavily against you as he recovered. After a moment like this, he rolled to the side, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his head on your chest. You lightly brushed your fingers through his hair, to which he hummed his approval.

"I meant it, you know," he murmured.

"What?" you asked.

"I really do love you. I'm sorry I don't show it."

"You do," you said. "In your own way."

"I just worry it's not enough for you."

You tilted his head up so that he was forced to look at you. "Tomura. . . you will always be enough for me."

He smiled and squeezed you tight, rolling back on top of your body so that he was completely crushing you. You couldn't help but giggle at his sudden playfulness. You loved this side of him.

After cuddling for a bit, he helped you clean up. You were searching the floor for your clothes when you remembered that they were gone.

"So, do I get to steal your clothes since you decayed mine?"

He smirked. "That was what I'd hoped, yeah. Take whatever you want from the dresser and i'll meet you out in the living room when you're done changing. I'm just gonna run to the bathroom and finish cleaning up."

You opened up his drawers and grabbed the first sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants that you found. They were too big for you, but they smelled like Tomu. Once you were dressed you made your way out to the other room and decided you'd try to set the game up. It couldn't be that hard to figure out, right?

You grabbed the remote from the coffee table and hit the power button. The tv flashed on to the middle of an evening news program. The woman on the screen was talking about recent attacks done by a group called The League of Villains. You were just about to change the channel when a familiar face popped up on the screen.

"The authorities are still on the lookout for the leader of the radical villain group, who they've identified as Tomura Shigaraki. If you see him in public, contact local police immediately. It goes without saying that he is incredibly dangerous and you should avoid approaching him at all costs."

Your heart dropped. You could hardly believe that Tomura, the man you loved, was a villain, but the leader of what seemed to be the most infamous villain group nonetheless? You felt betrayed. You felt tricked. But above all, you felt terrified as you realized you didn't know him at all.

"What are you watching?"

You turned to find him leaning against the wall behind you. His eyes were dark. You didn't know how long he'd been there, but you had a feeling that he could read your mind in that moment. He knew that his true identity was no longer a secret to you.

"I just. . . it just came on. I'm not really watching it. You know I wouldn't pay attention to any of this. I wouldn't want to ruin my optimistic view of the world."

You laughed, trying to make the last part seem light, but it sounded strangled, giving you away.

Tomura pushed off the wall, approaching you slowly. In the background, the newscaster was still reporting about the League's recent activity. She kept saying his name. You really wished she'd just shut the hell up and move onto the next segment.

When he reached you, he wrapped four fingers around your throat. "Are you afraid of me now?"

"Afraid? No, I—"

"You think I'm a monster?"

"Not at all!"

"Then tell me you still love me."

You were suddenly aware that the only thing that stood between you and death was his fifth finger hovering mere inches above your skin.

"Tomura, of course I do."

He tightened his hold. "Say it."

"I-I love you."

His eyes flicked between yours, searching for any sign of dishonesty. Your hands reached for him, gliding up his body in an effort to convince him.

"I love you," you repeated, cupping his jaw and running your thumbs over his skin.

You pulled him into a kiss, hoping that might convince him. But it felt wrong. You were tense and suddenly aware of the fact that the same hands that held you had been used to kill.

You weren't sure you could ever look at him the same way.

[kairoseas]

request from @coffebean: Can you do umm a Sukuita one about sukuna fantasizing about yuji in a bride dress Sukuna's never been one to fantasize. It's more of an activity reserved for those who cannot make their slightest whims a reality at the flick of their wrist; it was something the brat did a lot, but not he himself. He was more inclined towards making what he imagined in the darkest recesses of his own mind a reality when he simply saw fit to. This was not an occasion where he could simply put his idea to reality, much to his own painful chagrin.

That doesn't mean he hasn't had... a passing whimsy. A fantastical image. This modern era has changed a lot, certainly that was so, but others had remained very much the same. He'd first gotten a glimpse of this idea from the brat's posters, some gaudy older woman far too out of his league on his dorm room walls, flashing a particular kind of staged smile (he recognized it, it was similar to the ones he was once forced into giving at events) that made her expression all the more false to anyone trained in the art of expression. He, however, was elated at the slightest. "Oi, brat." The sudden speaking had Yuuji jumping in surprise, and it was a little on the adorable side, if Sukuna had anything to say about it. Still, like a good vessel, he answers when prompted: "Mmn? Something you need, 'kuna?" No, there wasn't anything he needed per say, but there were questions to be posed, fancies to be taken into consideration, and while he could search the brat's 'brain' (whatever was in the space between his ears, he certainly wasn't that optimistic) for his answers, he found it easier to lounge in the same way a lion did, surrounded by artifacts of his domain. "That woman. What's she wearing?" he asks from his place on Yuuji's cheek, the singular protruding eye stuck on the image in his magazine. Yuuji blinks before he realizes that Sukuna's talking about the image in front of him in modern print, fully colored, beautiful in a lot of ways, even when some were lost on him. "It's a wedding dress. You had those, right?" "It was different than that." "Really?" Not that the infamous Ryomen Sukuna paid much attention to marriage ceremonies of any sort, since he was never interested in participating in one up until ... these past few months. Thus, the culture surrounding them caught the curse's attention, caused him to absorb what information he found in passing. Yuuji, too, didn't have too much of an eye out for things pertaining to a wedding in their everyday fight for survival. "The wedding-kimonos were more ornate than that. More ... unique. These atrocities are mass manufactured, aren't they?" "...? How'd you guess?" "... they all look too similar to one another. Isn't the point of a wedding to be unique to all others in accordance to the tastes of the bride and groom?" the curse states with genuine disgust; how could people water down such a beautiful custom? Ah, well, it was one of the many things that the modern day watered down and diluted. "Heh, 'kuna has some romantic ideas. Did you ever marry anybody?" "What do you think?" "... no? But you were famous, right? Wouldn't you have been chased after?" It's at this point that Sukuna rolls his eyes, shaking his head inside of his domain at the very idea; he was courted many times, but it was never once returned in any regard. That was one of the problems with being all-powerful. Romance was trickier, more obtuse. "That's not to say that I was not courted, brat." "Courted...?" Ah, right, another word long gone out of fashion, Sukuna had to watch his own language if he wanted to speak and be understood by anyone, including his own vessel. "Others wished to romance me often. They were all foolish." Sukuna answers him easily, to which Yuuji laughs a bit. "Yeah? I can see you turning a lot of people down. You seem more like a loner to me." "Correct. ... have you entertained marriage?" "Not really." What a shame. In the Heian era, women were groomed to be brides fairly early, and it was around this time that they would have been wed away for power. Even if Yuuji had no desire yet to be by his side for an extended stay, well, safe to say Yuuji didn't get a say in the matter. He was the other half of Sukuna's rotten soul, everything he was not, tied to his littlest finger. "Doesn't matter. Don't get any bright ideas." Sukuna pulls back, resting his knuckles against his face as he sat on the throne of bovine skulls, You're still my vessel, and you won't belong to anyone besides me anyway." ... we'll work on the wedding dress part.

[wild-karrde]

In Command - Part 12

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: HELLO I AM BACK! The Bolts series kind of took over my brain, but I HAVE RETURNED! This chapter took a LONG time because I really wanted to get it (and the next few right) since it contains some of the most significant changes from the original fic. I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT! As always, thank you to the OUTSTANDING @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading for me, knocking ideas around, and reassuring me when I was second-guessing everything. YOU ARE THE BEST TJ!

Chapter Rating: E

Warnings: explicit sexual content (fingering, PiV sex, cum eating), language

Word Count: 9.6k words

“How can this be so kriffing boring?” Senna muttered, rubbing her face. “I really thought this talk would have at least some worthwhile details in it, but the guy giving it has to have been around when they invented the hyperdrive.”

Rex chuckled into his cup of caf. “Oh, come on. I don’t think it’s so bad.”

Senna rolled her eyes at him. “Of course you wouldn’t. You two geezers are kindred spirits.”

“I’m technically younger than you, you know. Accelerated aging and all that.”

She rolled her eyes again, and Rex nudged her with an elbow. It seemed as though she was in higher spirits today, and he couldn’t be certain if it was because the meet with Fisk was set for tomorrow or if there was something else at play. Even her frustration and complaining seemed more light-hearted, and it had made the burden he carried feel slightly more tolerable.

Maybe it was the right call to allow her to do this.

As the speaker wrapped up the session, Senna sighed, powering down the comm node. “Well that was another day wasted.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he countered. “We learned some more of the command structure. That’s important.”

“But we need more. I need to know what that super weapon is. All we know is that it’s a game-changer in the Empire’s eyes, but we’ve hardly learned anything else helpful. No build schedule, no people running the project, not even the mention of where it’s happening.” She was pulling her bun down and massaging her scalp, her hair hanging in front of her face like an auburn curtain. Rex tried to stifle a smile as she huffed, causing some of the hair to flutter before she whipped it back over her shoulders and down her back. She chewed a thumbnail before turning her attention to a parcel that she’d brought home with her earlier in the week. He hadn’t questioned it, but his curiosity was piqued as she grabbed it and headed into the ‘fresher.

Probably going out for her nightly walk, he thought as he reached for the datapad she’d been using to take notes. He also dug his hand in the bag of sweets she’d bought back earlier in the week, popping one of the candies in his cheek as he began reviewing her notes.

There has to be something here worthwhile.

He still shared her frustration, but he felt he needed to remain optimistic, if nothing else other than for her mental state. His eyes flicked to the door of the ‘fresher as he heard the shower turn on.

Maybe she’s just getting ready for bed tonight.

He wondered if her not going out meant something. He sucked on the candy in his cheek.

A short while later, Senna emerged, but when she did, she wasn’t wearing a new set of clothes to sleep in. Rex had to clench his jaw to keep it from falling open.

She’d swept her hair back in a slightly more stylized bun with smaller braids tucked into it, but she’d allowed some wisps to hang free, framing her face. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought she was wearing a bit of makeup, just enough to accentuate her eyes. But the thing that surprised him most was the cerulean sundress she was wearing. The fabric was simple enough, but the cut hung perfectly on her, outlining her curves in ways that somehow made her eyes sparkle even more. Thin straps laid across her shoulders, weaving across her back in a simple pattern, and the skirt swept to halfway down her shins. It was modest compared to some of the garments he’d seen in his time, but somehow alluring in ways that made sweat break out across the back of his neck. She’d pulled her boots back on underneath and was reaching for her jacket when she seemed to finally notice him staring.

“There’s a festival tonight. Kind of wanted to go see what it’s about,” she said quietly. She brushed a piece of hair behind one ear, sheepishly smiling as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“By yourself?” The question came out more accusing than Rex meant, and Senna ducked her head, rubbing the back of her neck.

“There’s a big dinner tonight for the conference. All of the Imps should be there. Figured it’d be safe enough on my own.”

“Oh.”

“I-I just… I didn’t know if… I didn’t know if you’d want to go.” She paused. “Do… do you want to go?”

Rex’s mind faltered.

Did she not want me to go? She’s been distant the last week, pulling away. I don’t want to intrude if she needs the space. But… when she looks like that… Maker…

“I should probably stay in and go over the notes. And then make sure we’re prepped for the meet tomorrow.” The words were out of his mouth like a reflex, and he found himself second-guessing them immediately. Her expression was unreadable.

“Alright then. Might grab dinner while I’m out too.”

“Right. Bring me something back?” he asked.

She smiled gently. “Of course.” They stared at each other for another beat, Senna rocking nervously back and forth on her heels. It was as if she wanted to say something else, but was unable to find a starting point. Finally, she seemed to give up trying, reaching over and snatching her comm from where it sat on the desk. Quickly, she pulled her jacket on and slipping the comm into her pocket. “I shouldn’t be out long. Probably won’t be too much fun.” Her smile was almost apologetic.

“Yeah. Sure,” he fumbled.

Before any more awkward silence could hang between them, she was out the door, leaving Rex alone as he replayed the moment again and again in his mind.

What the kriff was that?

—

Senna walked quickly through the crowds on the street, keeping her head down as if she could outrun the awkward encounter with Rex by putting more distance between them.

What the kriff was that?

She had thought about asking him to come with her. Tortured herself over it, in fact. Ultimately, she came to the conclusion that was a violation of the invisible and inconsistent boundary she’d set for herself.

Still… maybe it would have been nice for me to ask.

Dammit.

The evening air was cool, but a warm breeze blew some loose tendrils of hair against her cheeks, and she could smell food vendors nearby frying every type of meat and cheese under the sun. The tinkle of laughter and the notes of music carried on the cool night air, and as she got closer to the square, she felt some of her tension melt away as she sank into the festival atmosphere. Children raced past, brushing her skirt as they sprinted carelessly by, laughing and screaming with dust swirling in their wake. Senna smiled to herself as she disappeared into the crowd, enjoying the feeling of being around people, yet alone. She made her way through the throng, the music growing louder as she wove by group after group of people laughing and giggling. Suddenly, everything opened up around her as she reached the square, and she inhaled sharply as she took it in.

The entire area had been completely transformed from what she’d stumbled upon on her first day out. Small lights were strung within and between the trees, twinkling joyously in the night and softly illuminating the various vendor stalls and the large space where people were dancing. The leaves whispered in the breeze, harmonizing with the laughter and shouts of the onlookers that stood around the edge of the dance floor. A live band played a quick-tempoed tune as the dancers whirled, the colorful fabrics of their clothes waving in wide arcs as they spun, hair and tendrils whipping around like grass in the wind. The smell of assorted fried food and warm drinks was stronger now, carried on the wind along with the sounds, and Senna felt her stomach grumble quietly. She let her shoulder lean against a pillar that was wrapped in streamers and greenery as she took the scene in. She’d never really had the opportunity to see festivals like this while she was a Jedi, and moments of joy like this one warmed her heart after so much time spent in a war.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” a familiar voice said softly next to her, and she jumped, whirling to glare at the man next to her. Familiar brown eyes twinkled beneath the brim of a hat that was covering his blonde hair as he leaned closer to her.

Rex.

“Did you follow me?” she whispered with an edge of annoyance.

Too close.

“No. Well, yes. But I kind of wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he said sheepishly, ducking his head. “And I figured… well, we are supposed to be on our honeymoon.”

Senna studied him for another moment.

“I suppose that’s true,” she conceded. She felt him step closer, hesitantly wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Is this alright?” he murmured against her ear.

“Yes,” she breathed, trying to keep her heart from racing as she felt his fingers rest against her hip. Her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips as she fumbled to change the subject and ignore the heat racing to her cheeks. “You ever see anything like this?”

“We weren’t exactly around a lot of festivals on our campaigns.”

“Yeah, that tracks.” They stood in silence for a few more minutes as the song came to a close and the dancers all applauded along with the crowd. The band struck up a new song, and many of the onlookers took to the dance floor, swaying in time with the music. The beat tugged at Senna, and after a few seconds, she found herself tapping her foot. Rex glanced down at where her boot was keeping tempo, smiling to himself before his eyes caught hers. She couldn’t help but grin back at him.

Maybe he’s right. We are supposed to be out together. What could it hurt?

Senna leaned over and said quietly, “You uh…ever learn how to dance, Captain?”

He turned to look at her, noting her cocked eyebrow and taking it as a challenge. “I may have picked up a few dance steps on Coruscant when I was there on leave. Don’t know that I’m any good at any of them though.”

“Well, why don’t we find out then?” she giggled, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the dancers as she tossed her inhibitions to the wind.

He hesitated, pulling back on her hand. She whirled back around to face him, her eyes sparkling in the lantern light. A sudden giddiness came over her, and for once, she wasn’t going to resist it.

We deserve this much, don’t we?

“Come on, Lon. You owe me a honeymoon.” He still was scanning the crowd nervously, so she stepped closer, whispering in his ear, “We deserve to have some fun.”

Rex chuckled quietly. “I suppose we do.”

The air was warmer as she led him towards the dance area, and she stripped out of her jacket, tossing it on a nearby bench. The breeze tugged at her hair, dragging some of the loose strands across her bare shoulders, and she inhaled deeply.

Have some fun.

She turned back to Rex. His gaze was gentle yet piercing, and she felt herself grow warmer. He followed her lead, tossing his jacket on the same bench before interlacing his fingers with hers as she led him through the dancers, weaving along until they found a spot to stake their claim. Turning to face him, Senna let her left arm drift over his shoulder. “You know the Coruscant Whirl?” she asked.

Rex smirked. “Can a Toydarian fly?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I mean, not always super well, but-“ He interrupted her by pulling her close and whipping her around in a circle, and a loud cackle burst out of her as he twirled her. They separated in time with the tempo, their fingertips grazing as they slid by one another until he stepped forward and firmly gripped her hand, spinning her back into him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this at ease, this happy. She was out of breath from laughing, she was sweaty from the exertion, and she felt as if an ember in her chest was being blown upon every time she caught Rex’s eye, every time his hands found their place on her waist. She wasn’t certain she’d ever seen him this happy either.

She never wanted it to end.

Aren’t we owed this much? After all of it?

Rex’s grin made her heart flutter as he stepped closer to her, wrapping his fingers around her waist, lifting her easily and spinning her. She whooped in surprise at first before tipping her head back and giggling.

“Didn’t expect that one, huh?” he teased in her ear as he spun her around.

“I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised,” she said, her arms drifting to his shoulders as he replaced her on the ground. They were both laughing and panting as they danced, Senna almost daring Rex to keep pace, and him meeting the challenge at every turn. Whipping her around one more time, he pulled her back in and dipped her low just as the song ended, her hands wrapping around the back of his neck as her hair finally fell from its loose bun and spilled over his arm. Senna tipped her head back and laughed. Gently, Rex pulled her back up, her hair sticking to her face and neck as she tried to regain her breath. “Very well done, sir,” she said approvingly.

“I do what I can,” he replied, a grin cutting across his face from ear to ear.

Maker, he’s handsome.

The barriers were crumbling, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. At least, not for tonight.

We should be allowed to be happy. After everything we’ve been through.

Just playing our parts. Valla and Lon Cardell. Honeymooning together.

The band had moved on to a much slower song, and the couples around them had started to move together, holding each other close. Rex turned to look at Senna, and she could see the hesitation, the question clear in his gaze. She shrugged, stepping closer and placing his hand on her waist.

“It is supposed to be our honeymoon,” she reminded him.

He smiled but said nothing, pulling her closer.

Senna slid her left arm back up over his shoulder and allowed the fingers of her right hand to intertwine with his as she let her face rest against his chest. She could hear his heart beating and smell the sweat on him as they swayed in time with the music. The warmth of his hand on the small of her back was a grounding presence, holding her close, and for the first time since before the war, the entire galaxy seemed to fall away. She felt Rex rest his cheek against the top of her head, and she pressed more into him.

Just pretend. Just for a little while.

As they swayed, Rex pulled their clasped hands to his chest, running his thumb over the back of her hand. He turned to whisper into her ear, “Almost makes you feel normal, huh?”

Something stirred within her, twisting her stomach. She smiled sadly up at him. “You forget, this was never going to be my normal,” she whispered back.

“And… what about now?” he asked.

Her heart stuttered in her chest. She froze, and she felt him tense as she pulled back to look at him. His eyes were searching hers, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction. The problem was she wasn’t sure what her reaction was. The ground suddenly felt unsteady under her feet as her brain rushed to interpret what Rex meant, what he could possibly be implying. Her heart was singing at her to hope, but her brain was in an all-out assault to quash that.

You love him.

You can’t.

But what if he…

The song came to an end, and an announcement about the night’s scheduling was played over the sound system. Senna blinked as the speaker blared, derailing her frantic train of thought.

Just small talk. Just pretend. He’d never… no. You can’t let yourself think that.

You’ll only get hurt. Or you’ll hurt him.

Senna smiled back up at him. “We should get some food,” she said as she tucked her hair back into a bun, bending over to grab her jacket striding off towards a food stand. She could feel Rex’s eyes following her for a few seconds before he apparently decided to let it go, falling into step behind her. Her fingers flexed nervously, her eyes darting among the vendors until they settled on a stall selling roasted meat on sticks.

Does… does he?

She shook her head, quickly paying the vendor for two sticks of meat and a bag of dried fruit to share. Her stomach growled, and she bit into the meat, barely tasting it as her mind raced.

You can’t.

“Hey, are you alright?” Rex asked from right next to her.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I… here,” she said, extending him the other stick. He took it, but his eyes never left her. She ate quickly, discarding the wooden stick and tearing open the fruit bag. The sugar and some other spice tingled on her tongue. Rex was eating more slowly, his eyes seemingly never leaving her.

“Are you sure? Because you seem… distant.”

She tried not to squirm under his gaze.

Haven’t I been all week?

Senna turned to face him. Her heart lurched at the way he was looking at her.

He just wants to understand. And maybe you owe him that much.

“Rex, I-”

Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion on the east end of the festival. Shouts and screams cut through the night air, and suddenly, the sound of modulated voices carried over the crowd. Rex and Senna’s eyes met, alarm permeating both of their gazes as they understood what was happening.

Imperials.

Rex stood on his tiptoes to see above the crowd, and when his eyes settled on the far end where the noise was coming from, his mouth pulled into a thin, tight line, confirming what Senna feared. He leaned close, speaking directly into her ear. “They’ve got a small army, and it seems they’re kettling the crowd. I don’t have my chain code with me. Do you?”

Senna’s hands flew to her pockets, already knowing she hadn’t brought her identification as her fingers futilely felt for the chain code disk.

Kriff. How could I have been so careless?

Rex didn’t need her to confirm his suspicions as he met her eyes. “Guess their dinner’s over. Time to go,” he muttered. His arm slipped protectively around her as he began pressing them back away from the main avenue. Quickly, Senna pulled the hood of her jacket up and tried to shield her face with it. Rex tipped the brim of his hat lower, turning up the collar of his jacket as well. They started moving away from the impending line of stormtroopers at as normal of a pace as possible. An announcement boomed over a loudspeaker somewhere.

“This is an unauthorized gathering that is in direct violation of curfew. Disperse immediately or you will be arrested.” There were shouts of protest from various onlookers, but most people were moving away.

“We hold this festival every year. Why would they do this?” Senna heard one woman ask.

“Because they can,” another grumbled in response.

Senna’s mind was racing, her heart rate spiking with fear.

He’s here because of me. I did this. It’s my fault. I put us in danger.

Rex took Senna’s hand and they wove back through the crowd away from the approaching squadron. Slipping into an alleyway, he led her away from the main street. They could hear more and more loudspeakers and the modulated voices of the stormtroopers demanding people move, followed up with a few indignant shouts.

“This way,” Rex whispered. “It should dump us right in front of the inn.”

My fault. My fault. My fault.

They stepped quickly through the darkness, but no matter how much space they put between themselves and the festival, they still could hear the comm chatter of stormtroopers, too close for comfort. Senna was completely disoriented, clinging to Rex’s hand as he worked his way through the labyrinth of alleys and backstreets. Suddenly, he turned one corner, and then immediately jumped backwards, slamming Senna against the wall. She took in his expression, his eyes flicking back and forth, calculating his next move before his brown irises finally found hers in the dark.

“There’s a squad at the end of the alley coming this way,” he whispered. “Come on.”

Rex doubled back, and despite her long legs, Senna found herself jogging to keep up with his pace. He tried another route, but was met with yet another squad working their way towards them.

“Kriff,” he muttered under his breath. Senna could see the tension in his shoulders as he thought, working over the maps she’d watched him memorize in his head. After a few seconds, he turned the opposite direction of the stormtroopers, heading back the way they’d come before ducking into a sidestreet. Senna followed quickly, keeping her head down as she tried to take in her surroundings.

The sidestreet was largely empty, peppered with rundown storefronts and buzzing neon signs. A stray tooka watched them with mild interest, scratching at an ear with a clawed foot. There was a mild stench of standing water and garbage that permeated the entire street, and Senna fought the urge to wrinkle her nose. Her pulse was pounding in her ears, and she felt her chest begin to clench with nerves.

We can’t get caught. That was the deal. No getting captured. No matter what.

As if he could sense her fear, Rex reached back for her hand, which she gratefully slipped into his. “This connects with a fenced-off courtyard that we should be able to scale and cut through,” he murmured. “Think you can handle that?”

“Are you seriously asking if I can climb a fence, Rex?” she joked, doing a poor job of hiding the desperation in her voice.

He smirked, but before he could retort, they heard the click of boot heels and froze. Rex grabbed her arm, pulling her into the shadows. A few seconds later, a squadron of stormtroopers rounded the corner, making their way down the alley and scanning for any stragglers. They stopped a few passerby, and their demands echoed down the street.

“HAVE YOUR CHAIN CODES OUT FOR INSPECTION.”

Rex’s head was on a swivel, looking up and down the connecting alleys. His grip on her hand was firm, and it felt like the only thing keeping Senna from screaming in frustration. She turned and looked down the street, inhaling sharply as she spotted two officers with the squad. One was a younger woman, laughing at something the other had said, but the gait and posture of her counterpart was unmistakable.

Kriff.

“It’s Fisk,” Senna breathed. “Rex, he’s here.”

Her mind raced with thoughts of what would happen if Fisk saw them, and her breath came out in a shaky exhale.

I’ll be arrested as a spy. There’s no way they won’t figure out Rex is a clone. I don’t even know what would happen to him. Would they just kill him? Or lock him away? Or worse?

“Of course he is,” Rex muttered. He squeezed her hand. “This way.”

Rex led her down the closest stairwell, pulling her inside the door of a club named The Tawny Tooka. Senna’s breath felt caught in her chest as he pressed her up against the wall just inside the door, listening to the outside foot traffic. Her heart was racing, but at the moment, she couldn’t determine if it was due to the danger or how close Rex was standing to her, his hands pressed to her hips as he tried to see through the smudged window in the door.

“Paying customers only,” came a gravelly voice, making Senna jump in the quiet. Turning, she spotted a female Pa’lowick leaning out of a curtained window, watching the two of them. She was wearing a wig that sat crookedly on her elongated head, and her lips were painted a neon shade of purple that matched the glitter smeared on her eyelids.

“We just need to get our bearings. Got a little lost,” Rex said, and the Pa’lowick snorted.

“I’m sure the Imps out there can help you find your way just fine, handsome. So either pay up, or get out.”

Rex glared at her, but Senna stepped past him. “What’s the fee?”

“Twenty credits each.”

Senna counted out forty credits as she glanced past the Pa’lowick. She could make out a sliver of the club through the curtain behind the Pa’lowick, and from what she could see inside, it became very clear that she and Rex had stumbled into a sex club.

“I’m surprised the Imps let you keep this place running,” she commented casually, trying to distract from the way her hands were trembling as she replaced the rest of her credit chips in her pocket.

Get inside and hide. Disappear.

The Pa’lowick shrugged. “Normally, you’ll find a few of their officers back there, but they’ve got some big shindig tonight. As long as their top brass continues to patronize this establishment, the rest of ‘em will look the other way.” The attendant scooped Senna’s credits off the counter. “Can take your coats and hat. There’s toys and other fun supplies for sale along the east wall. Private booths on the south wall. Seems like this one prefers to be a bit more…discrete.” She winked at Rex, and his mouth twisted into what Senna guessed was supposed to be a smile. His discomfort was obvious, and she wasn’t certain she was doing much better at hiding hers.

“Thanks,” Senna mumbled, handing off her jacket before grabbing Rex by the wrist and leading him through the doorway that led into the club. He barely had time to toss his own jacket and hat at the Pa’lowick, who was rolling her eyes at the two of them as they disappeared.

Senna had been to several of these types of establishments after the war had ended, both as a customer looking for someone to take her mind off of things and as an asset looking to gather intel for Gerrerra. Despite her familiarity with this type of place, something about Rex’s presence made her cheeks flush with heat as she led him through the sea of bodies towards the south wall. Every step that buried them deeper into the crowd put her more at ease, and she felt some of the tightness in her shoulders abate as she and Rex put distance between themselves and the front entrance.

The attendant was right. Privacy will be the way to go. Especially if the Imps decide to come looking down here.

The room was stifling with the smell of perfume and sweat. Laughter and shouts echoed over a thrumming bass, and Senna’s head swam from the heat that seemed borderline oppressive. Bodies were pressed together in every nook and cranny of the club, parties of every species and gender coupling on couches or working up to it at tables with drinks in hand, leaned close to be heard over the music. Some more adventurous clientele had taken to the stage, exhibiting their proclivities while others seemed to just prefer taking in the show. When she glanced over her shoulder, Senna found Rex staring hard at her, and she couldn’t help but grin impishly at him.

“What, you can’t bend like that?” she teased, jerking her head toward a pair of Twi’leks that were practically contorted on stage with one another. She hoped the joke would keep him from hearing how hard her heart was pounding in her chest.

Rex’s eyes flicked over to the adventurous couple, and he managed a tight smile as he leaned down to reply. His breath was hot against her cheek. “Not without a good amount of stretching.”

She giggled, some of the tension leaving her body as his hands found their way to her hips. She leaned back into him, interlacing her fingers with his as her eyes scanned the crowd. Standing on her tiptoes, she was able to spot the booths in the back, several of them occupied while others had their curtains hanging open invitingly.

“Think we should find somewhere more private like the attendant suggested?” she asked, leaning back to speak to Rex. Her lips grazed the shell of his ear, and she could have sworn she felt him shudder.

“I think that’s best. Lead the way, love.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

Love.

She shook her head, desperately trying to clear the haze that was inundating her mind.

Ever the professional. Still playing his part.

Despite that thought, heat licked up her spine as she strode forward, keeping one hand linked with his as she wove through the crowd. Her chest felt tight, and an undeniable wetness was forming between her legs. She made a beeline for the first booth that was obviously open, and Rex followed her inside.

The two of them pressed into the small booth, and Rex pulled the curtain closed behind them, plunging them into darkness. With that darkness and the sense of isolation came relief, and Senna found herself releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

We’re safe. For now.

The dark space was barely large enough for two people to stand in with a small, L-shaped seat pushed into the corner that was clearly meant to facilitate one very specific thing. Senna’s head was spinning in the close space, caught between the rush of relief and the tension of having Rex so close. The air felt thick as Rex turned in the dark, leaning down to whisper to her. She struggled to focus on the words rather than how his breath felt against the shell of her ear and the smell of his skin. Some of his stubble scraped her cheek as he spoke, the low husky rumble of his voice making her knees tremble.

“We can lay low here for a bit until the troopers clear out on the street. They’ll stay just long enough to be an inconvenience and leave when the crowd has dispersed. I don’t think Fisk saw us.”

Senna’s hand rested on his forearm, nodding in agreement. “D-do we stay in here until then?” She knew what she hoped for, but she needed him to confirm it. All of her inhibitions were melting away faster than her brain could counteract them. The adrenaline was wearing off, quickly being replaced by a burning need that was enveloping her more with every breath.

Just an act. It has to be enough.

But what if it’s not?

Rex chuckled, and the sound made Senna’s heart flutter as his hand found a place on her hip. “I’m afraid I don’t have a better idea. But it’ll be f-“

The curtain was abruptly pulled open, and Senna blinked at the large Togruta man standing before them. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he had his arm draped around the shoulder of a Twi’lek, who had his hand halfway down the Togruta’s pants. Both of their eyes widened in surprise before the Togruta glared at Rex.

“Occupied,” Rex growled.

“Well at least use it then so the rest of us can have a turn,” the Togruta rumbled.

“The next one’s open, sweetheart,” the Twi’lek giggled, the muscles of his arms flexing, and the Togruta moaned. “Let’s leave them to their play.”

“Fine.” The Togruta managed to shoot Rex one more withering look before he closed the curtain, and Senna heard a thud followed by a loud titter from the connecting wall a few moments later.

“I hope that doesn’t keep happening,” Rex muttered, yanking the curtain closed again. “Don’t want to have to keep fending them off.”

Senna wet her lips, an idea forming in her mind that under normal circumstances, she’d have immediately rejected.

But these were not normal circumstances.

“It probably will keep happening.” She inhaled deeply as her addled brain reached what she considered to be the only possible conclusion. “Sit down on the couch, Rex.” Her voice was breathier than she’d meant for it to be, and he turned to look at her. She wasn’t certain if she was imagining it, but she could have sworn he looked hopeful, almost eager.

“What?” he asked.

She pushed at his shoulders, guiding him backwards. “They’re going to keep coming in, so we’d better look like we’re doing something, or else they’ll get an employee to kick us out. And then we’ll be out in the open and really will be conspicuous.”

Rex fell heavily back onto the seat. “That makes sense,” he agreed slowly. She bent down to bunch her skirt in her hands, hiking the blue fabric up around her thighs. His gaze felt molten as it raked over each newly exposed inch of skin.

“I do that sometimes,” she joked as she climbed onto his lap and straddling him. Her skirt pooled around her hips, exposing her thighs as her knees sunk into the cushions on either side of him, and she could see Rex’s eyes trail along the exposed flesh, his hands hovering over her. She leaned forward, pressing her chest against his and nuzzling against his cheek.

It’s just an act. What we need to sell it.

Rex finally appeared to decide to rest his hands on her hips, digging his fingers into the wadded-up fabric of her skirt. “If anyone comes in, just follow my lead,” she whispered against his ear, and she felt him shiver. This time, she was sure of it, certain that he was reacting that way because of her. Heat bloomed between her legs.

Just an act.

“And what does that entail?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“We’re going to give them a show,” she laughed. “Make them think this is definitely in use.”

His grip on her hips tightened, and Senna became increasingly aware that her core was pressed against his crotch, and that he was absolutely reacting to having her so close. But before she could give it any additional thought, two voices just outside of the booth’s curtain grabbed her attention, and the curtain rattled as though it was being tugged. Senna rolled her hips, grinding against Rex as the curtain opened.

She couldn’t stop the moan that tore from her throat, her fingers digging into the back of Rex’s neck as his grip on her hips tightened. She ground herself against him again, feeling his cock twitch in his trousers. She could feel the length as she ground her cunt against it, and she panted against his neck. Rex leaned into her, making a low sound in his throat that sent electricity shooting through her veins. His hands were gripping her firmly, guiding the motion of her hips as the curtain swung open.

“Oh, sorry!” It flipped shut quickly, and Senna paused, panting against Rex’s neck.

“Yeah… like that,” she whispered with a chuckle.

“Seems we sold it,” Rex rasped. There was a little strain in his voice, and she could feel how tightly he was still holding her. One of his hands moved to trail along her spine, brushing the bare skin between her shoulder blades and drawing a shiver from her. She dug her teeth into her lip to keep herself from gasping.

“Is… is this alright?” he asked after a few moments.

She nuzzled against his throat, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Just an act.

He swallowed hard. “I just… I don’t want… I know that Fisk made you uncomfortable when he touched you like this. And I don’t want to do that.”

“You’re not Fisk, Rex. It’s different when you touch me.”

She could feel a throbbing between her legs, and her head swam as she fought the urge to grind against Rex again. His grip loosened on her skirt.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” he asked, so quietly she almost didn’t catch it.

Senna turned to face him, her nose grazing his in the dim light. His eyes seemed darker, and his breath was warm against her lips as he watched her, searching her gaze. Her brain screamed at her to stop, to push away from him, to not let herself get pulled under.

But for once, she didn’t listen.

“Yes.”

She didn’t know she’d said it out loud at first, but she felt Rex’s breath stutter against her lips. His brows were furrowed as he searched her eyes, almost as if he wanted to be sure he’d heard her correctly.

Slowly, Rex reached up, pushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. His fingers grazed her cheek, tracing along her jaw, and Senna leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and savoring the warmth of his palm. Rex’s eyes flicked down to her mouth, and his thumb gently traced along her lower lip. The pressure was light, and Senna kissed the pad of his thumb. His eyes locked with hers.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

Rex traced the lines of her throat until his warm fingers grazed along her collar bone, finally reaching her bare shoulders. His fingertips touched the strap of her dress, toying with the thin strand of material. He hesitated, his eyes finding hers again, and Senna shrugged her shoulder down, letting the strap slip off in invitation. Rex’s eyes locked on her bare shoulder, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He looked hungry.

And in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be consumed by him.

Senna felt as if she was floating, and before she could consider it further, she reached for his hand. Rex allowed her to take it, and she kissed along his knuckles, placing one against his palm before she guided his hand under her skirt, resting it on her bare thigh. The two of them watched each other as she took his other hand, kissing it as well before she let out a shaky exhale, pulling Rex’s hand to her chest. The hand on her thigh tightened, and she placed her palm over the top of the one that was resting on her chest, adjusting her weight so that her core was pressed against his cock. Every muscle in Rex’s body was tensed, but as she stroked her thumb over the back of his hand, his fingers trailed along the neckline of the dress before his palm dropped down to cup her breast, squeezing it gently.

Senna’s head rolled back, and she gasped, grinding against him. He groaned in response.

The curtain rattled again.

The final barricade between them crumbled as they stared into each other’s eyes.

Rex’s hand slipped from her breast, sliding around the back of her neck to pull her into a heated kiss. They’d kissed before of course, but this one was different, urgent, hungry, all tongues and teeth clashing together with an urgency that they’d both repressed for months. The taste of Rex pulled Senna under, and she was more than happy to drown in him. His tongue traced her lower lip, requesting access and her hands slipped around the back of his head as she granted it eagerly, running her tongue along his, desperate to give him whatever he wanted. Her hips rolled again, and Rex reciprocated, gasping into her mouth. Both of his hands gripped her bare thighs under her skirt, pulling her against him with every roll of their hips, and it didn’t take the two of them long to find a rhythm. Her nails scratched lightly across the back of his neck as she began to grind against him more insistently. Her undergarments were quickly dampening, but she couldn’t stop.

And she didn’t want to.

Rex seemed as lost as she was in the moment, grunting every time she pressed against him. She whined against his mouth.

The curtain was still open, but neither of them seemed to care.

“Touch me,” she gasped.

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Please.”

Rex slipped his hand into her hair, gently tangling his fingers in it. His grip was firm, but so gentle compared to how Fisk had held her head still before.

She wanted more.

Rex’s lips worked their way along her jawline until he reached her throat. She felt his mouth press against the tendons there, sucking a mark before he moved down to her collar bone. His tongue traced her clavicle until he reached the scar left there by the shattered tree branch, and suddenly his kisses were more tender as he focused on the healed mark.

Senna closed her eyes, leaning into his touch as he lavished the mark that haunted her with attention, ensuring she’d never look at it the same in the mirror.

“More?” he whispered.

“More. Please.”

She pressed her core harder against him, and there was no question that this had gone beyond an act for the benefit of those around them.

Senna was chasing her pleasure against Rex’s hardening cock.

And he was helping her.

The hand on her thigh reached further under her skirt, sliding around to grip her ass, guiding her along his length. She felt his fingertips slip under the edge of her panties as his fingers dug into the curve of her ass.

The curtain closed again.

They didn’t stop.

Rex’s grip on her hair tightened, and she gasped before his lips met hers again, his voice a deep rasp.

“Valla.”

The use of her false name spurred her on for some reason.

It has to be enough.

“Don’t stop. Please,” she begged.

Every barrier Senna had thrown up crumbled to dust as she smelled Rex’s skin, tasting his sweat as her tongue traced along the muscles of his throat. Her nose grazed his jaw, and she could feel a day of accumulated scruff scrape against her skin. She had wanted him for weeks, but this was different.

She needed this. Needed him.

It was easy to slip into this role, to justify that she was playing the part of an eager wife on her honeymoon with her husband, but she knew that wasn’t what this was. It was messy, but she couldn’t seem to stop it. Rex was intoxicating, and she wasn’t about to further deprive herself of him.

Don’t we deserve this? her mind whispered to her.

“More,” she begged.

Rex’s fingers dug into her flesh hard enough that she was certain he was going to leave bruises, and the thought made her clench around nothing as her panties became a sopping mess.

Let him mark me. Let him make me his.

She lost herself in him, panting against his mouth as he pulled her forehead against his.

“We…we sh-should…” Rex cut himself off with a moan as she nipped at his jawline.

Senna felt everything in her body tightening as her orgasm built at breakneck speed. She whined against Rex’s lips, and his hand slipped between her legs.

“Are you close?” he gasped.

All she could manage was a nod. She could feel his hesitation, his hand resting against the inside of her thigh.

“P-please. Touch me.”

“Yeah?” he understood what she was asking for. Of course he did. Rex knew her.

“Please. Please. Please…” She felt him nudge her panties to the side with his fingers before he slipped one thick digit along her soaked cunt, tracing her lips and gently rubbing circles around her clit. Senna let out a loud moan.

“Right there. Please. Right there. Don’t stop.”

She’d watched his hands often, how his calloused and scarred fingers moved deftly when he was completing a task. They were strong yet gentle, and while they’d almost been her demise, she’d found comfort in them that outweighed everything. She’d thought about how they felt cradling her face, how they felt when he held her at night, how warm they were when they were wrapped around hers. And she’d quietly mewled at night at the thought of them touching her in more intimate places. Her fantasy was overcome by reality as Rex slipped two fingers inside of her, working his thumb at her clit as she ground down on him.

The sensation was better than she’d ever been able to imagine.

“All this for me, pretty girl?” he rasped, his hand quickly growing wet with her arousal as he plunged his fingers in and out of her.

Senna whined as she frantically rode Rex’s hand. He slipped a third finger into her, finally pressing deep enough to find the spongy place within her, and she gasped.

“Lon. Fuck. Right there. Gods above, right there.”

“Fuck, you’re beautiful like this,” he whispered.

Her eyes met his, her lips parted as sweat slicked her skin. His gaze was piercing as he watched her with dark eyes.

“Cum for me,” he demanded, nodding in encouragement. “Let me have it.”

And she did.

He pulled her lips to his, swallowing her screams as she came hard, clenching around his fingers. Wave after wave coursed through her, leaving her shuddering in his arms as she came down from her high, the thrumming bass of the music outside of the curtain finally replacing the rushing of blood in her ears.

Senna flopped against Rex, panting and listening to the hammering of his heart in his chest. She could feel his cock, still hard as durasteel in his trousers, pressed against her. He’d removed his hand from between her legs, and she could see his fingers glistening with her release in the dim light. Rex was examining them as though they were coated in liquid gold, and after a moment, he slipped his fingers into his own mouth, groaning at the taste. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him lick her release from his fingers as though it were the finest wine in the galaxy.

After a moment, he leaned down, kissing her. She could taste herself on his tongue. He offered her his fingers, and she finished cleaning them off, her own tang sharp against her taste buds. Rex watched her with interest, his eyes following the way her tongue traced his knuckles before she sucked the tips of his fingers.

“Atta girl,” he praised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His chest was still heaving, and Senna watched another trickle of sweat dribble across his collar before dotting the fabric of his shirt with moisture.

The heat grew again in her belly at his praise, words he’d said to her many times that somehow were different now. Sitting up, she reached between her legs, undoing his pants.

It’s not enough.

“What are you doing?” he rasped.

Just a husband and wife on their honeymoon. Just an act.

It was flimsy and outlandish, but it was the best reasoning she could come up with in her addled brain at the moment. She had kept everyone at arm’s length for the last year, never letting anyone get too close. Not even the others she’d slept with had felt this close, this all-encompassing, and even as she let go, she was trying to keep Rex distant in her mind.

That’s all this is. A job. A release. We both needed it. We’re doing each other a favor. Lon and Valla. Fucking each other as married couples do.

She pulled her hand away, meeting his gaze.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

Rex watched her for a moment before he shifted to undo his pants the rest of the way, lifting his hips slightly to slide them down just enough. She could feel the warmth of his skin where his bare hips now pressed against the inside of her thighs. And then she felt the hot, blunt head of his cock run through her slick folds. His lips parted slightly, and he released a sharp exhale at the feel of her. His eyes never left hers as he reached between her legs again, pumping himself, his knuckles grazing her clit with every stroke. He coated himself with her release before notching himself at her entrance.

Fuck. He’s huge.

They panted as they watched one another for a moment, not daring to move.

There was still time to stop, to put all their clothes back on and never go further.

It’s not enough.

Senna crossed the line for both of them, lowering herself down onto Rex’s cock on shaky legs and spearing herself on his length. Her head rolled back and she moaned as his girth split her open. He was so thick, and as the head of his cock pushed into her, she felt her walls stretch to accommodate him. Patience was never something she prided herself in, and it took everything she had to ease herself downwards. She was definitely going to be sore, but worries of tomorrow were completely banished from her mind. Right now, the entire rest of the galaxy had melted away, all except for Rex. Her hair had come loose from her bun again, hanging around his face as she leaned over him, enclosing the two of them even further. She could see he was wound just as tightly as she was, his brows furrowed as he stared at where he was disappearing inside of her, a centimeter at a time. She gave a few rolls of her hips until she was seated fully in his lap, clenching around him in the dimly lit booth. Rex’s fingers were digging into her hips again, but his eyes were locked on hers, chest heaving as he kept himself in check.

Senna sat up, grinding herself against him. Her palms pressed against the wall behind his head, and her mouth fell open. She panted as she rolled her hips again, searching for the place inside her that would send her hurtling over the edge.

Rex hissed between clenched teeth, and she leaned further forward, allowing the top of her dress to slip downwards. He reached up, pulling it down to expose her breasts to him. The cerulean fabric pooled around Senna’s waist as she shrugged out of the straps, and Rex’s eyes took her in with a reverence she’d never seen from him.

“Beautiful,” he breathed.

Senna rolled her hips again, slowly at first until she was building a steady rhythm, fucking herself on Rex’s cock. He was silent aside from the occasional grunt and his labored breathing. It was everything she’d imagined at night with her fingers buried in her cunt, all of it and more. Her mind was screaming that this was a one-time thing, all an act to keep the mission intact, but Senna wasn’t sure how she’d ever be satisfied again, not with how he was looking at her. The air between them had felt charged for weeks, and every stroke of his cock inside of her rippled through her like lightning, finally striking where she needed it most.

But she needed more. More of him. All of him. Anything less wouldn’t be enough.

She gripped the back of the couch to give herself leverage, bringing her breasts closer to his face. He glanced up at her, and she nodded, her eyes silently pleading.

Touch me.

His palm cupped one of her breasts, giving it a gentle squeeze. She arched further into his touch.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.”

She kissed him again, her tongue slipping along his lower lip, and he groaned into her mouth. His fingers wrapped around her nipple, tugging lightly and she gasped.

“You like that?”

“Yes,” she whined.

He did it again, and her back arched in response. Rex growled, low and deep and throaty, and heat rushed between Senna’s legs as the sound rumbled in her chest. Leaning forward, Rex took a nipple between his lips, suckling at it. Senna cradled the back of his head as he took the tender flesh between his teeth, gripping her other breast in his hand and rolling her nipple between his fingers.

“J-just like that. Fuck. Don’t stop.”

Senna fucked him harder than she’d ever fucked anyone in her life. Sweat rolled down her neck, trickling between her breasts as she ground him against the place inside her that drove her wild. Rex chased the trails of perspiration between her breasts with his tongue, alternating between tasting her skin and marking her. Frantically, she adjusted, and the new angle sent Rex’s head tilting back against the edge of the couch, banging against the wall with a dull thud.

His hand left her breast, and she whined, but his fingers slipped back into her hair, pulling her forehead down to touch his again as he began bucking up to meet her thrusts.

“Yes yes yes yes,” she chanted, beginning to bounce on his cock, and the grip on her hip tightened. Rex redoubled his efforts, guiding her up and down along his length as she desperately tried to ground herself in his eyes.

“Lon. More. Please. Don’t stop.”

“I won’t. I can’t.”

The curtain opened and closed a few times, but neither of them seemed to care or notice. At one point, it remained slightly open, and a sliver of light fell across Rex’s face, illuminating the sheen of sweat that had broken out across his skin.

He’s beautiful.

Senna felt drunk on him. She ground her clit against the patch of hair at the base of his cock before lifting herself off of him just enough to leave the head inside of her. She teased him for a moment, enjoying the feel of his member breaching her and then sliding back out before she dropped herself fully back down on him with a wet smacking sound. He whined in response, spurring her on, and she began riding him harder, willing to do anything to hear him make a sound like that again.

We’re just playing a part. We’re a married couple. That’s what this is. We’re doing our jobs. This is our job. Right?

“Right there. Fuck. Right there, Valla.”

Senna maintained the angle, driving him against her inner walls as though her life depended on it. She was gasping against his ear as he held her close.

“Rex, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Fill me up. Fuck me. Rex please.”

She didn’t even notice she’d switched to his actual name until he gripped her tighter, pulling her close.

“Say it again,” he snarled. “Say my name like that.”

“Lon. Please.”

He adjusted her so that their foreheads were pressed together again, his eyes burning into hers. “No. Say my real name, Senna.”

Her heart fluttered and her cunt clenched at the way her name fell from her lips. She never wanted him to call her anything else again.

“Senna.”

Fuck.

She ground against him frantically, leaning forward to whine in his ear. “Don’t stop, Rex. Please don’t stop. I’m so close. I want you to fill me.”

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you until I coat your insides, Senna?”

“Yes. Rex. Please. Fuck. I need it. I need you.”

He kissed her, and his hips stuttered. She felt him spurt and twitch within her, and that sent her hurtling over the edge, her head tipped backwards in a silent scream as he grunted, emptying himself into her. Her vision was obscured as it whited out, and for a moment, she wondered if she was about to wake up from a dream again and find herself alone in her bed. The feeling of a hand on her cheek, thumb stroking over the skin, brought her back down to Lothal’s surface, and when she opened her eyes, she found Rex’s brown ones staring up at her.

“Welcome back,” he whispered.

Senna had no response, only managing a dopey grin.

She laid her head on his shoulder as her bliss faded to a buzzing in her ears. She thought she’d want to get up, be able to leave easily, but all she wanted was to feel the heat of his body against hers for a while longer. His cock slipped from her, and she adjusted to let him tuck himself away. His heart was pounding in his chest, and she laid still, listening to it slow until he finally looked down, brushing some hair out of her eyes.

You love him.

“We should get back.”

Everything around Senna shattered.

What did you expect? We played the part. Did what we needed to do. Fooled everyone.

She stood hurriedly, pulling the dress back over her shoulders and finding some wipes to clean herself tucked into the booth. Rex stood, watching her for a moment. Senna tried to keep her face neutral as she offered him the wipes to clean himself off, turning her back as he accepted them. She felt suddenly self-conscious, as if this man hadn’t been buried in her cunt five minutes ago.

Just an act.

“Senna-”

“Let’s go,” she whispered, turning to face him. She gave him a tight smile, trying desperately to keep her emotions at bay. He watched her for another half a beat before pushing the curtain aside for her. She stepped past him, her head still feeling fuzzy.

What just happened?

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @meekaielmyerhs99 @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @rennyboo9 @djarrex @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @ladykagewaki @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

[episodicnostalgia]

Spider-man: The Animated Series, 112 (May 27, 1995) - “The Hobgoblin, Part Two”

Written by: Stan Berkowitz Directed by: Bob Richardson

LAST TIME… on Spider-man.

Hobgoblin spends his time ping-ponging between working for Wilson Fisk (aka the Kingpin) and Norman Osborn, when he’s not kidnapping Harry and putting Aunt May into a coma (or “Seizure,” according to her quack doctor). Oh! And He’s feeling pretty chuffed about blowing up a building (with pumpkin missiles) right after Spider-man jumped into it, which admittedly would kill most people, so I can appreciate why he would be feeling optimistic.

AND NOW… the continuation!

The Breakdown

Yeah, so Spider-man basically just escapes by hopping out the back window, which is pretty much what I would have expected. I know it’s what I would do if I possessed the power of super-parkour. Anyways, they fight a bunch more until Spider-man escapes in the sewers.

So, Hobgoblin heads back to Fisk’s tower to report in, and finally collect the money he’s owed for kidnapping Harry, but Fisk quickly reveals a video recording (via hidden camera) that shows Hobgoblin re-colluding with Norman. Since betrayal is a universal no-no in the world of organized crime, Fisk orders the Goblin’s execution, but then ol’ Hobby turns around and completely overwhelms Fisk’s people with pumpkin bombs (the first time is always the most shocking). With no other choice than to retreat, Fisk leaves his enterprise in Hobgoblin’s traitorous hands.  [Never mind that the Kingpin’s base of operations is in his privately-owned skyscraper, and that at a certain point you’d think the general public might take notice of a cackling maniac in a Halloween costume, flying into-and-out-of the giant Heli-pad-draw-bridge at the top of Fisk Towers. New York must take that “possession is 9/10th’s of the law” rule seriously.]

Turnabout is fair play though, so Fisk and Norman decide to put their differences aside and team up by… hiring Spider-man? Yep, Fisk provides Norman with directions for the secret underground tunnel into his crime tower, which Norman passes on to the Web-head so he can fight the Hobgoblin for them. And that works ...pretty well, too.  Spider-man fucks up the Gobin’s shit, rescues Harry, and hightails it out the same way he came in (instead of just escaping out the giant five-story-sized exit that Hobgoblin wisely used). Wanting to ensure that his base of operations remains a secret, Fisk orders his lackey, Smythe (the same dude who built the spider-slayers a while back), to blow up the escape tunnel with Spidey and Harry still inside.  Since this is Spider-man’s show, he makes it out just fine, but the tunnel is destroyed, so he's left to wonder what that mysterious crime-base was all about.

With Harry safe, there’s really nothing else to- Oh oops there’s still a few minutes on the clock, so, uhh… Hobgoblin comes back for one more quick fight! Sure, we might as well do that.  Thankfully, Spider-man is able to deke his adversary out, by knocking him off-balance and into the river, and… that IS the all fighting we have time for, so we’ll have to wait until next season before we hear from the Hobster again.

All that’s left is for Pete to visit Aunt May, who conveniently recovers from her seizur-[Coma!  That was a fucking coma!  Was the concept of a coma honestly too much for the censors!? No, I will not let this go!], and reveals that the real reason she passed out is because Pete’s room was too much of a pig-stye for her to cope with. Haha fair enough. I guess Peter will need to move back in with Aunt May, so she can keep doing his chores for him.

Aw!

The Verdict

I think it just boils down to this, as a surface level adaptation for children, there is nothing specifically wrong about this episode.  Even as a cynical adult, I can’t say I didn’t enjoy this little trip down memory lane.  The fact is, this episode (in conjunction with the previous one) introduced me to the Hobgoblin, paving the way for me to discover his comic book counter part, where he’s considerably more interesting.

I suppose my only “problem” is that this episode leaves me with about as little to praise as criticize. For the most part it’s just one fight scene after the next, with very little story, and virtually nothing of consequence that would impact future episodes. If nothing else, this arc served as a prime opportunity to bring Spider-man’s awareness to the Kingpin’s enterprise, which sort of happens (in the sense that he sees the hideout) before it’s breezed over and forgotten.

Not bad, not great, no harm, no foul.

2.5 stars (out of 5)

Parting Thoughts

So, to reiterate, the Kingpin has this nifty skyscraper where he does his crime with fancy computers that connect him to all the other crime across the globe [… I’m pretty sure that’s just the internet], replete with a giant door (pictured above) that swings down like a draw-bridge-to-the-sky, so military-grade aircraft and giant killer robots can come-and-go as needed. I always wondered what the rest of New York thought about that.  I can’t help think that the office workers from the buildings across the street must have witnessed some awfully strange goings-on over at Fisk towers.  An occasional helicopter I can understand, Fisk is a billionaire after all, but surely the flying Kaiju-scorpions, and trick-or-treaters with laser guided missiles, must have raised a few eyebrows. I guess once you’ve lived in New York for a while, nothing fazes you.

After Hobgoblin has taken over Fisk’s tower (man, the ground floor reception staff must have been having one doozy of a day), he calls up Norman and demands that Oscorp be legally signed over to him, lest he kill Harry. Now, that is a pickle, to be sure, but it’s also kind of an empty threat. Surely someone attached to the government (or the banks, maybe) are going to flag any transaction of an entire corporation to SURNAME: Goblin GIVEN NAME: Hob (unless that’s short for Hobbes?).  Honestly, Fisk and Norman should have just waited him out.  It’s not like he can spend his newly-stolen fortune without revealing his identity.

[omegalomania]

i keep trying and failing to articulate what heartbreak feels so good feels like. but i guess the best way the say it is that the lyricism feels, to me, like a discussion of catharsis through the act of creation. and it sounds SO happy but it genuinely feels a bit sad to me? it might just be me. i swear to god i know i was just like "i dont really do lyrical analysis so much except in little snippets" but this song has me so intrigued and i have no idea if anyone else got those kinds of vibes from this.

but basically. right from the start, we have hope mixed with cynicism. the first line of the first verse is a compelling, optimistic hook: it's about how the future is up for grabs, and you have the power to shape it. and the second line adds in, no matter what they sell you, followed by that reference to the 2022 jordan peele film, "nope." i have not seen this film (yet) so i could not expand on the themes of it, but i did rb a really good analysis of that particular line there and i thought that was super compelling, especially given my read on the rest of the song. one thing that the analysis there says that REALLY got my brain going was how the movie nope comments on how the "bad miracle" is the spectacle of the complacency in watching something self-destruct. and op phrased it better than i did, but it's VERY applicable to the way fall out boy's whole legacy was shaped - through the commodification of the band, and of course primarily of pete, and the deification/demonization of his pain, his intimate details, the invasions of his privacy.

given what the rest of the song says, i thought that was super super applicable, especially paired with the prefix of no matter what they sell you. commodification is already a theme here.

nobody said the road was endless, followed by could we please pretend this won't end?

the road will end. you will eventually overcome that hardship. but crucially, the song doesn't want to overcome hardship. it wants the hardship to never end. it wants it to always be there.

and of course the line between those two - no one said the climb was friendless - because they've always been a band of brothers. they've always climbed this road together. again, that little kernel of hope sandwiched between those subtly saddening implications. nobody said the road was endless - and the road is not a good thing, as the prechorus will indicate to us. the fact that they're not alone is the only consolation they have in this.

It was an uphill battle but they didn’t know we were gonna use the roads as a ramp to take off

naturally, there's commentary on determination and persistence in the face of overwhelming adversity. but i love the way it's not just "we push through despite all that" it's "we succeed BECAUSE of that" - the roads are ramps! you take your pain and turn it into something that will launch you into the fucking stratosphere! but rather critically, you don't get anywhere without the uphill climb. a flat road is just a road. it's only with a steep incline that you can actually use your momentum to head skyward.

and that's the point, isn't it? heartbreak feels so good - not because it actually, legitimately feels good, but because it's only through heartbreak that you can make something profitable. heartbreak feels good because if you are broken, if you are not fixable, you can guarantee that you will remain a fixture in the industry. your pain is compelling. the second verse really cements that for me.

we said we'd never grow up It’s open season on blue moods

because obviously everyone writes about heartbreak. again, blue moods are big themes in music. if you're heartbroken, then as far as the world is concerned you're producing good art. likewise with the idea of "never growing up," since well especially with fob and the way they've been perceived, there's a general preconception that they're at their "best" when they've been kind of frozen in a state where they don't get to grow, change, or learn. if you're at your most prolific creatively at your saddest, then maybe the fans, the world, the industry likes you better like that. never growing up. never getting better.

taking a look back at the chorus, there's the whole interplay of crying and dancing, and that is what really makes my brain go brrrrr

We could cry a little Cry a lot But don’t stop dancing Don’t dare stop

the "don't stop dancing" part reminds me a bit of the song of the same name from bojack horseman. and if you're unfamiliar with bojack horseman, the cliff notes summary is that it's about a washed-up actor who was on a famous 90s sitcom and all the ways he is fucked up and hurts himself and hurts the people around him and how he struggles through it. it is RIFE with commentary on celebrity culture and it's an excellent show but also a genuinely hard watch. it is a show that i know that pete is at the very least familiar with, and thematically i can see why it would interest him.

anyway, the song "don't stop dancing" is sung twice in the show. the first time is while bojack is having a tremendous mental breakdown and he hallucinates/dreams his co-star singing to him so she can mock his self-pity and comment on the inherent absurdity of celebrity culture - the line that stands out for me here is why not sell your sadness as a brand? the second time, it is sung by a mental construct of his former co-star (who died an unnecessary, tragic death for which bojack was directly responsible) while bojack is drowning in a pool. the reprise is about the inevitability of death and what your legacy leaves behind - because bojack is dying in that moment, and the character singing the song here is dead and her death has cast a permanent shadow over the entire remainder of the show.

all this is to say that the "don't stop dancing, don't dare stop" bit feels genuinely kind of...like it sounds joyous, it's delivered as such, but it's also got that darker undercurrent to it? the thing is that the heartbreak is inevitable - the whole song is about how heartbreak is inevitable and it is gonna happen anyway. and you can cry all you fucking want about it, but you are not allowed to stop dancing. you are not allowed to stop turning your pain into art. because your pain is the most profitable thing about you.

We’ll cry later or cry now You know it’s heartbreak

cry later, cry now. cry a little, cry a lot. it doesn't matter when or how much you fucking cry about it as long as you keep dancing - keep creating. keep making something, making your fucking pain and misery and heartbreak worth it. because that is what the people love. that is what the people want to see. that is what sells records.

heartbreak feels so good precisely because it means you can make something out of it.

but then, that last bit of the chorus...oh. oh, my heart.

We could dance our tears away Emancipate ourselves

that last line. emancipate ourselves. i am reasonably confident that this is a direct reference to "redemption song" by bob marley. pete is familiar with marley's body of work and the phrasing is too specific, too deliberate. that line in "redemption song," emancipate ourselves from mental slavery, is in and of itself a reference to a speech made by marcus gavey, a jamaican activist. and there is legitimately so much in that alone. the fact that both the song and the speech are about slavery. the fact that marley wrote this song in '79 while he was already dying of cancer, and confronting his own mortality through his art. i wish i could articulate all that there is in that but i don't think i'm the right person to. but the fact that the chorus ends on that note, punctuating it with one last refrain of we'll cry later or cry now / but baby, heartbreak feels so good, that is what makes the song for me. that's what gives it that little zing. that's what elevates it to something much more hopeful. because again, the song sounds happy but says some pretty saddening/harrowing stuff. but the parting note is on that. emancipate ourselves.

"We are going to emancipate ourselves from mental slavery because whilst others might free the body, none but ourselves can free the mind."

and to have that happen in conjunction with "we could dance our tears away" is like.......you can survive free of whatever pain might plague your legacy - in more ways than one. we could dance our tears away - because while we are required to never stop dancing, never stop creating, it still helps, doesn't it, to make something beautiful from all that has hurt you? and there will always be people who want package that, sell it, make it into something that can be bought and advertised. but you can make yourself free of that, if you have the inclination. and i think the upbeat nature of the song is what supports that. it sounds jubilant but it also sounds...free. for all the ways that you might be weighed down by the onlookers, the people who want to profit off your pain, the people who prefer you broken, your ability to find catharsis and freedom through your craft is yours, and yours alone. and despite everything else, you can still find a release in that.

thats what gets me about this one. i cant stop rotating this song in my head and thats all

[nochuelinha]

Chapter 7: Choose

The snow and cold had arrived in Detroit. I put on warmer clothes and waited for Hank outside my apartment, his old car and Connor sitting in the passenger seat signaled their arrival. I greeted them and we drove in silence to Kamski's house, the tension palpable.

"So, does anyone have any guesses about what we're going to find?" I tried to make conversation. Hank looked at me through the rearview mirror, seeming pensive for a moment before responding.

"Well, we're going to meet Kamski, so I hope he has some answers for us. But honestly, I have no idea what to expect. This guy is unpredictable." I agreed with him and glanced at Connor.

"We'll find out together. I'm ready for whatever Kamski has to say." His voice was calm but determined. At least someone was optimistic.

Arriving at Kamski's house, I was impressed by the grandeur and isolation of the place. It was evident that Kamski valued his privacy, opting for a secluded and luxurious residence. The sense of wealth and power emanated from the property, creating an aura of mystery around the renowned android creator. The blonde android who greeted us at Kamski's house was truly impressive, with an almost transcendental beauty. Her perfect appearance and elegant posture conveyed an aura of serenity and sophistication, almost as if she were a divine figure walking among us. I saw Connor holding a photo, and as I approached, I only recognized Kamski's figure; I had never seen the woman beside him before.

"Amanda," he whispered. Before I could respond, our host came out to greet us. To my surprise, he had several androids like the one who greeted us; he was swimming with one when we arrived. Kamski's lack of interest in answering our questions was evident from the start, but his attention quickly turned to Connor. His expression changed when he noticed the presence of the android, as if something inside him sparked a sudden and intense interest.

"If you pass my test, I'll answer all your questions," he said after rambling about a few things. I furrowed my brows; something was wrong. Kamski's proposal to answer our questions in exchange for Connor undergoing a test raised my suspicions. There seemed to be a hidden agenda behind this condition, and I felt uncomfortable with the idea of ​​putting Connor in an unknown situation. Kamski's gesture of placing one of his androids, Chloe, in a kneeling position before us and handing a gun to Connor was disturbing. I immediately understood what he was suggesting: he wanted Connor to perform an act that would test his humanity, his ability to empathize and exercise moral discernment.

After receiving the gun from Kamski and the order to shoot the android Chloe, Connor hesitated for a moment, reflecting on the situation. His data processors quickly evaluated the possible consequences of his actions and the moral guidelines he had internalized throughout his interactions with humans and androids. Instead of blindly obeying, Connor chose to follow his ethical principles, refusing to shoot.

I released the breath I didn't realize I was holding and looked at Connor, feeling a deep sense of relief that he hadn't fired. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, a tension I didn't even know I was carrying. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I could see in them not only confirmation of my decision but also a gleam of determination and understanding. Gratitude flooded my heart, not only for the choice Connor made but also for the trust he placed in me, in us. It was comforting to know that, even in the face of Kamski's pressure and unknown consequences, Connor remained true to his principles, showing that our values were aligned not only as partners but also as friends.

At that moment, I realized that the bond between us had strengthened even more. It wasn't just a matter of work; it was a connection that transcended the bounds of programming, a mutual trust that drove us to face challenges together. And with a silent look, we shared the understanding that no matter what the future held, we were united, ready to overcome any obstacle that came our way.

"Interesting," Kamski observed our interaction closely. "I won't answer your questions, but remember: I always leave an emergency exit in my programs."

Hearing Kamski's words sent a shiver down my spine. His enigmatic comments always left more questions than answers, and this time was no different. What did he mean by "emergency exit in my programs"? Was it a clue to unravel the mysteries surrounding us or just another puzzle to confuse us?

I looked at Connor, sharing the uncertainty hanging in the air. Although his expression remained undisturbed, I could perceive a slight furrow of his brows, indicating that he too was intrigued by Kamski's words. It was as if we were facing a complex puzzle, and each revealed piece brought us a little closer to the truth, even if that truth was even more confusing and obscure.

[heckinconfusedparade]

I want to see nines reaction to dark sonic

CW: DEATH, AND SOMEWHAT GRAPHIC VIOLENCE

It’s the final battle between the resistance and the Chaos Council. Tensions are high, and the numbers are dropping fast.

Nine has managed to get Rusty Rose on their side once more, and this time made the firewall much more difficult to break through. Rusty is absolutely killing it, tearing apart every robot in sight.

Until she’s not. Dr. Deep has managed to snatch her in a locked arm. He cackles, getting the attention of Sonic, making Nine look in the same direction.

“Put her down!” Sonic demands. Mr. Dr. Eggman rests his cheek on his hand “why should we do that~ she ours and belongs to US.”

Sonic sneers “she belongs to nobody!

“Oh-ho yeah? Then why do you need to reprogram her for her to be on YOUR side?”

“Put. Her. Down.”

Dr. Deep grins. He slowly starts to squeeze Rusty in his mechanical arm. Rusty let’s out a pained scream, feeling her insides crack and close in on itself. Sonic stands horrified “HEY! LEAVE HER ALONE!”

“If you say so!” Rusty is dropped. Sonic rushes and catches her before she hits the ground. He holds her. Her body is twitching, emitting sparks. Her yellow eye is flickering. “Rusty?! Oh my chaos- Rusty speak to me!” Sonic yells through cloudy eyes. Rusty looks at him, struggling to function before her eyes flicker off, and her body goes limp.

It’s like things go quiet for a moment. Sonic drops to his knees clutching poor Rusty Rose. Nine slowly approaches Sonic. Seeing Rusty, he gasps. Even as a robot, it’s a pretty grizzly sight, even for him.

Sonic slowly puts her down and stands up. “You killed her.” He doesn’t even look up.

The council laughs. “Oh and what will you do now without your precious temporary ally?” Dr. Doom inquires.

“You. Killed her.” Sonics pupils disappear, his eyes beginning to glow a bright white.

Rebel and Knucks run to the scene. They back away seeing Rusty’s body on the floor. Knucks tears his eyes away and shuts his eyes tight. Rebel clutches his hand in hers.

Nine looks up at Sonic and squints. Is.. is he getting darker? “Uh? Sonic?” He asks, bringing the attention back on him from the other two and the rest of the resistance.

Sonics fur turns a darker blue, a dark aura surrounding him, making the hairs on the necks of the council stand up. His quills raise upwards.

Sonic chuckles “you want a fight? THEN COME GET IT!” He flickers away, then suddenly the mechs of the council are torn to shreds by Sonic engulfed with anger and grief.

Nine stares on with a shocked expression. What.. is going on? He’s barely able to process the speed of it. Sonic was no longer the happy optimistic person he knew- he was now a being fuelled with anger and insane power. He’s amazed.. but at the same time afraid. His best friend has transformed into something darker.

The council lays on the ground groaning in pain. Sonic also carry’s on to destroy all remaining robots plus the HQ tower in a flash. The tower collapses, but he also makes sure to get every innocent away.

He flashes in front of the council who looks up at him. They scramble backwards and realize they have nothing left. Sonic has a sinister smile “leave. Leave and never return. Or else I will not hesitate to put you in the same condition as your sorry robots.” The council gets up and scurries away, never to return.

Sonic takes some breaths and calms down, his quills returning to their downwards place, and his fur and eyes going back to normal. Everyone cheers him on.

Nine, Rebel, and Knucks rush over to him. Nine stutters out “S-Sonic?? What WAS that?”

“Not sure. It’s never happened before… I guess that’s a reason I shouldn’t get too angry.” Sonic turns to face his friends. They all have solemn expressions. Sonic sighs and looks down at his feet.

Everything is cleaned up. Nine takes Rusty to his lab and gets to work. He’s not sure how successful he will be, but he has to try. If there’s one thing he’s learned from Sonic, it’s that everyone deserves a chance.

Nine develops a new battery and new parts for Rusty, as well as getting rid of all the rust on her. It was a nearly a loss, but Rose is complete, and Birdie is now free and concerned for her owner.

Rose wakes up and looks around and down at her hands. She feels reborn. She remembers what had happened to her and the monster she was before.

“Rose?” Nine waves to get her attention. Rose looks down at him “I’m Rusty Rose.. I think.”

“You’re not Rusty anymore!” Nine wishes he could restore her organic body, but he’s not willing to go through any more trauma today.

He brings her out to where Sonic is talking with the members of the resistance, planning on reforming the city. Everyone’s thanking him, but at the cost of poor Rusty, he feels he didn’t win.

“Sonic!” Nine calls out to Sonic with an unusually chipper tone. Sonic turns to look at him and gasps. Rose stands behind Nine. Sonic runs to her. He makes a big smile and hugs her. “I was gifted freedom today.” Rose says, with some newfound hope. “Nine told me of your sacrifice. I am forever grateful.” She extends her arms to experiment hugging back. “New emotion detected.”

“What kind of emotion?” Sonic asks.

Rose smiles “happiness.”

Sonic just HAS to hug her again.

Then he goes and scoops up Nine in the biggest bear hug and swings him around, thanking him over and over. Nine accepts this. This feels nice. Doing nice things feels nice.

Everyone forever notes to never piss off the hedgehog!

[melpomenelamusa]

Tag Game: Character Profile

Thanks to @floralmusings for the tag!

Rules: fill out the information for one of your OCs!

Today I´ll make a profile for Elafi, the main character of my story Chimeras.

Full Name: Elafi I haven't thought of a last name

Nickname: Deer Boy

Species: Human/Quimera Child

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Appearance: Elafi is a thin boy, about 1.70 meters tall (5'8 feet) without his antlers. He has deer ears, and his legs from the knee down are also like a deer's, ending in a pair of cloven hooves. He has big brown eyes with long eyelashes. His hair is brown, a little above his shoulders, slightly wavy. He has freckles on his face and back.

Occupation: Help Warrick in the garden.

Family: His parents were killed at the beginning of the story. He currently lives with Warrick, who has taken on a caretaker role for him. It is known that he has a grandmother, whom he hasn´t seen in a long time.

Pets: None, but would like to have a hedgehog.

Best Friend: These characters don't appear in the story yet, so I'll update when I publish that chapter ;)

Describe their room: Currently, his room at Warrick's house is pretty simple. His bed is filled with stuffed animals, and on his shelf he keeps several fantasy books and pictures of him and his parents. He always keeps his room very tidy.

Way of speaking: Elafi is quite shy, so he stutters when he speaks sometimes, usually when he´s nervous or scared. His voice is soft and melodic. When he wants, he can scream very loudly. His body language is very distinctive, and it´s easy to guess what he´s thinking or feeling just by looking at the position of his eyebrows or the movement of his ears.

Physical Characteristics (posture, gestures, attitude): He like to keep to himself. He´s very insecure due to his status as a chimera child, so he tries not to attract much attention, and can remain standing and static like a tree. When he feels confident, he´s very affectionate and enjoys giving and receiving hugs.

Items in their bag/purse: Elafi is not in the habit of carrying things around with him. With luck, he might have his cell phone in his pocket or some pretty stones he picked up from the ground.

Hobbies: Sleeping, going for a walk in the woods, reading, playing board games.

Favorite sport: He used to do yoga with his mom.

Abilities/talents/powers: He has a rather strong and mysterious connection with nature. The rest are spoilers!

Relationships (how they are with other people): With the people he loves, Elafi is very affectionate and protective. He has a very helpful and kind nature. Because he lived in isolation most of his life, he has a hard time interacting with other people because he is very shy and never knows what to talk to them about.

Fears: Elafi currently has two big fears: that someone will hunt him down and try to sell him on the black market, and that Warrick will be hurt.

Faults: Elafi is too naive, always looking for the good side of people, which can make him manipulable and easy to deceive. The boy is also too curious and is guided by his instincts and emotions, which sometimes makes him not too cautious with his actions.

Good points: Elafi has a very kind heart. If you gain his trust, he will do anything for you. He is a very easy kind of person to love, and his optimistic and bright outlook on life brings joy to anyone who is willing to listen to him.

What they want more than anything else: Elafi just wants to be able to live a life free from the dangers that society imposes on chimera children.

@befuddled-calico-whump @geode-crystal @morning-star-whump and open tag! If you want to share more about your fictional children, it´d be an honor to read you ;)

[crossdressingdeath]

Volo: Perhaps you would hazard a guess as to why the mob turned on me? Kyvir: Did you speak out against the cult of the Absolute? They have eyes everywhere. Volo: It is not the eyes that I fear, it is the intelligence behind them. The Absolute is merely the outward form of something far more insidious. Volo: The Lord of Murder has returned. Volo: As he did a hundred years ago, Bhaal has set his accursed sights on Baldur's Gate, and his temple runs red with the blood of the innocent. Volo: And just as then, he has more than one Chosen to manifest his gruesome plot. He has Orin. Volo: And he has you. Kyvir: Bhaal does not have me - I reject his influence. Volo: I see that. You have at least a measure of self-control, but Bhaal's inheritance is not shrugged off so easily. Volo: The heart of a Bhaalspawn is a flipped coin that lands on its edge. Volo: Yours is a family set upon self-slaughter. Volo: When there are two or more, they will destroy one another until a single heir to the throne of blood remains. Volo: In times gone by, there was an errant-hearted Bhaalspawn who stood against his foul father, and brother Sarevok. Volo: Optimist that I am, I hope you are of similar heroic vintage. Kyvir: I hope so too - I think I can be the hero the city needs. Volo: I believe you will be.

"Bhaal doesn't have me," Kyvir says, lying, like a liar. He's going to make the right choice in the end but oh boy is it up in the air for him right now.

At first I thought that Volo thought that Bhaal being involved would be a huge shock to the party, but then he knows about Durge being Bhaalspawn so I guess he was just being dramatic about it. He is in general not sharing any new information here, maybe he's more helpful in a non-Durge run where you don't have (mostly forgotten) firsthand knowledge of all this. I especially like the bit where Bhaalspawn destroying each other until one remains is treated like a Big Thing when a) Jaheira discussed the importance of killing Orin to consolidate all of Bhaal's power in someone who is hopefully reasonably non-evil with you the same night you remembered being Bhaalspawn and b) Orin's already extended an invitation to fight to the death for daddy dearest's favour. Thank you Volo, we knew about this already. Evil is one big happy family that repeatedly stabs each other in the back for personal gain! In general while Volo is aware that Durge is Bhaalspawn (side note, how does he know that) I don't think he's aware of the whole "former Chosen of Bhaal and head of his temple, crafted from his divine essence in the name of bringing the world to a bloody end" thing. ...Actually I don't think anyone's aware of that at this point other than Durge themselves, it hasn't come up with the party.

Assuming Volo's talking about Gorion's Ward here (which I assume he is, whenever people mention heroic Bhaalspawn it's usually them) I think this is the only time they're referred to with gendered pronouns, although given how consistently they're referred to with they/them elsewhere I assume it's a mistake. But once again people are pointing Durge at Gorion's Ward and telling them "Be like them. Don't be Bhaal's obedient Chosen, be like them." Which is kind of interesting since based on the official canon on the wiki they were both active in the city at the same time (canonically Gorion's Ward was a guy named Abdel Adrian who died in 1482 DR, ten years prior to the events of BG3, and to make the timeline fit even if you don't make Gorion's Ward that particular guy they'd probably follow the same timeline) so it's entirely possible that the two of them knew each other and even if they didn't Durge was probably aware of their older sibling's presence. They probably spent most of their life pre-tadpole being told not to be like them! ...Also I suspect I'm gonna start getting plot ideas when I eventually do play the first two games and start developing a character for them because the idea of the heroic Bhaalspawn who saved the city meeting their much younger half-sibling who's now become the deadly favourite of the father they (Gorion's Ward) fought against and choosing not to tell anyone about them is very good.

Also, I love how while Volo does have concerns about Durge he's still confident that they can be a hero who saves the city. At least part of that is because just like Jaheira and Minsc he was around when Gorion's Ward was doing their thing and so he knows Bhaalspawn can do a lot of good, but I think he also does have at least some genuine confidence in the person he spent a good amount of time travelling with. I love it when characters have faith in Durge to be good despite their parentage!

[dovelyanon]

So I was thinking and I realized I don’t know why Teach me how to sing is named teach me how to sing. How’d you come up with that title?

Omg, you asked! I was wondering if anyone was ever going to ask. Warning: I'm about to ex-theatre kid nerd out.

I hope you don't regret this, @rahabrios

The Similarities between Adrien Agreste and Johanna Barker

"Teach me how to sing" is a lyric from 'Green Finch and Linnet Bird'- the damsel's song in Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. In it, Johanna- the play's damsel in distress- is locked in her room. She looks to the songbirds in their cages and wonders how they can sing in these conditions. Feeling powerless, she wishes to learn how to be content despite her circumstances hence the lyric "teach me how to sing". I thought it mirrored Adrien's constant struggle in the fic- between his desire for freedom and his desire to remain and be the perfect son, to make his father happy. Johanna never finds happiness in these circumstances and neither does Adrien.

I had a few titles in mind when I started the fic, but what sold me on "Teach Me how to Sing' was all the fun parallels between the story/Miraculous in general and Sweeney Todd. Here are just a few I remember finding amusing (Light Spoilers for Sweeney Todd ahead):

Judge Turpin and Gabriel Agreste. Judge Turpin is Johanna's guardian, a wealthy man with political power who was obsessed with Johanna's mother. After he drove her mother to her demise, he took charge of Johanna and keeps her locked away under tight surveillance. He ultimately has darker intentions toward her and, when she refuses, he labels her insane and tries to have her committed.

Sweeney Todd and Gabriel/Hawkmoth. Johanna's actual father is Sweeney Todd- a man so consumed with vengeance for his family that he is terrorizing all of London and sinking ever deeper into madness. He knows Johanna is alive, but kind of just... doesn't bother to try and talk to her and isn't urgent about freeing her? He is more occupied with taking revenge on Judge Turpin and lamenting losing his perfect family and wife. He does not try to have a relationship with his daughter because she'd probably "look too much like her (his wife)" and they'd "never be the way we were".

Mrs. Lovett and Nathalie. Mrs. Lovett is Sweeney Todd's dedicated partner in crime. She's arguably more capable and more intelligent than him. She comes up with the bright ideas while he whines and she takes the brunt of his mood swings. But she's head over heels for him despite the fact that he is stingy at best and manipulative at worst with his affections and largely emotionally unavailable to her due to his fixation on his lost wife. He uses the hell out of her anyway. He is ultimately responsible for her demise.

Anthony and Marinette. Anthony is the optimistic and hopeful pauper charming who drops into Johanna's life and helps her to escape from her gilded cage, fighting retaliation by Judge Turpin each step of the way. He is also notorious for having one of the most stalkerish love songs by his archetype in musical history.

Some notable lyrics:

"I'll steal you, Johanna."

"Do they think that walls can hide you?"

"Even now I'm at your window."

He is the well-intentioned but slightly creepy love interest. But we're rooting for them anyway.

Well, yeah. There were a few more, but that's the gist of it. Sorry I turned your ask into a photo essay, @rahabrios

I didn't expect anyone to ask me this and thought the nerding would stay safely locked inside. I guess not. Welp... I recommend Sweeney Todd for anyone who likes musicals and dark themes! The original play with George Hearn and Angela Lansbury is great, but I'm also a big fan of the 2007 movie with Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter <3 Thanks for reading my rambles.