#Emperor Ing

[sepublic]

I realized that the Emperor Ing and the Preeminent remind me of one another. They’re both rulers of a dark realm and a race of ethereal beings that can possess people and objects, distorting them to match their aesthetics. I guess this makes Nya/Pixal the same as Samus (especially with the use of technology and bulky armor that hides her face and true gender), and Morro is Dark Samus?

Or we could instead compare the Preeminent to Metroid Prime’s true form, and give her a humanoid body when she possesses a Samurai X suit/mech. Metroid Prime’s armor and Stiix play the same protective mech role, the order the two phases are fought in are just reversed.

What if we took Kaiju Protocol’s idea of Pixal having her own solo adventures and gave her a Metroid plot. She could and would scan everything like in the Prime games.

[mhexart]

Shadowy Monstrosity

[metroidbosshowdown]

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Still Alive And Present (Fic based on this AMAZING theory sent to me by an anon)

Hunter was in his room carving a palisman commission for a customer with a smile on his face, meticulously whittling in the desired details that were requested of him - round ears, vertical slits for pupils, a heart shaped nose, a round body, and stubby little legs and feet.

According to the father who had paid for the piece a day ago, the palisman was intended as a birthday gift for his daughter and that pandas were her favorite animals. 💕 🐼

Although Hunter had never carved a panda before, he was having a great time doing so.

Gus had previously presented him with pictures of them.

He said that unlike giraffes, they were a lot friendlier and less vicious.

Once the carving was complete, Hunter planned on giving it to the father first thing in the morning.

He was already imagining the excitement and radiant smile on the girl's face as she opened her gift on her birthday.

The carving apprentice was confident that she would love her new palisman pal.

He knew he did.

"I wonder what your name is going to be?" The blonde would ask rhetorically, aware that the palisman could hear him.

He smiled.

He wouldn't have ever been allowed to carve in the castle, especially not with Belos around.

Hunter was unsure of why, but he experienced moments where he missed his uncle, but he made an effort to remove those thoughts from his mind.

Belos... Philip... was a bad man.

A bad human.

A wicked, unforgivable monster who had committed heinous acts against others and had finally met the demise he deserved in the end.

Hunter, as well as the Isles, were finally free of him.

Meanwhile, Waffles observed Hunter hawk-eyed carving from her wooden bird perch, with an almost possessive look in her yellow hues.

Flying over to her owner, she perched onto his right shoulder.

"Chirp!"

Looking to this right, he spots her and sends his beloved bluejay a serene smile. "Oh, hey, waffle cone," Hunter gently greets the bird with her nickname as he pulled from behind him a single peanut nut. "Would you like a snack?"

The nut was pinched between his thumb and index as he brought it close to her beak.

She grabbed it, but then immediately turned to the left to spit it out.

Hunter was taken aback by her actions. "I thought you loved peanuts."

He then chuckles. "I guess you weren't hungry."

Waffles fixes her gaze on the palisman that Hunter goes back to carving. "What are you carving?" She questions him with a tweet.

"Oh, this? It's a panda palisman. I'm carving it for a commission. I think it's coming along rather nicely!" He showed off his hard work to Waffles. "Don't you think?"

Waffles' eyes squint at the panda, giving it an annoyed look. "Chrip, chirp, tweet, tweet, chrip."

"Well, you're certainly quite the critic," Hunter comments with a small chuckle.

Her second set of chrips and tweets earns her a playful glare from the blonde. "Okay, now you're just being mean."

When Hunter carefully applied the finishes to the panda, he grinned from ear to ear at his creation.

"There! It's done!" He pulls out a cloth and begins to wrap the panda in it, sitting it aside on his nightstand where his lamp and Polly Plantar plush sat at.

Waffles flutters over to Hunter's bed as he heads towards the door. "I need to get some paint for them. Be right back, waffle cone."

As soon as the room door is shut, Waffles slowly develops a malevolent expression on her face as she turns to the palisman on the nightstand.

...

Hunter returns to his room with some pink and white acrylic paints and two paint brushes in his apron pockets, only to see a sight that made him gasp.

His brown eyes witnessed Waffles pecking violently at the newly carved palisman he had just made.

"Waffles, wait, no, stop!" He rushes over to her as she stops.

He swiftly grabs the palisman and inspects to ensure it was not damaged.

Luckily it wasn't.

He sets the carving down on his dressing table.

"Waffles, you can't do that." Hunter tries to correct the bird as calmly as possible. He didn't want to come across as angry towards her.

Gazing at the ground, Waffles emits a somber chirp.

She's so ashamed.

"Do I hate you?" Hunter whispered in disbelief at the question. He shakes his head. "No, no, of course not. Waffles, I could never hate you. Listen, we all make mistakes. No one's perfect. I know you didn't mean it."

Seeing his birdie in such a sad state causes the blonde to shine her a sympathetic smile. "I'll have to paint that little panda later. In the meantime, how about we go see Luz and the others? You'll have the opportunity to hang out with your palisman pals! Would you like that?"

Waffles immediately looks up at Hunter at the offer.

A chripy tweet leaves her beak as the bluejay wastes no time perching on Hunter's shoulder.

She couldn't wait to see her friends!

Hunter gave her chin a gentle scratch. "Alright then, let's go."

As the blonde approaches the door, he fails to notice the sly smile on Waffles' face as her yellow eyes begin to glow in a chilling blue.

[cyberdragoninfinity]

I'm gonna apologise in advance for how dark this is, but looking at your recent Placidodumping from the tag force games... i feel like he's geniunely suicidal, and even if not exactly suicidal then he has no concept of self-worth.

Like, he's way too happy to die. Being willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of the future is dark enough. But the fact that he's saying he will be able to rest? That he's expecting you to be happy to die too? Yeah, that's the darkest part.

Placido's literally come from hell, but he's not even trying to save himself. He's not just acceptant of his fate, he's welcoming it, and it makes me wonder just how much he's been through. His despair, is it entirely from the memories he's been created from? Or is it from something else? *coughcoughashittyoldmancoughcough* Thinking of the Jakob part in tag force, how he straight up killed Placido and Lester, how he spoke about them, I feel like it wouldn't be too far fetched to assume he's said these things to Placido's face (and let's not forget how Zone spoke to Placido-and only Placido- in duel links)

Perhaps Placido's real despair wasn't the inherited trauma from Aporia.

Maybe it was the way he was treated by the only people around him. One of his duel links lines is "it's so sad when you have no one to love" and yet the other Iliaster members are right there, as family. And yet, he didn't get love from them.

Maybe he could have been saved if someone did love him. Maybe then he would have had something to live for.

(Apologies for the mini essay in here it was supposed to be a few sentences and then suddenly I've written an essay)

OH YEAH NO FOR SURE we are definitely WELL past the point of Primoplacido Yugioh 5D's having a true sense of self-worth in any emotional or psychologically 'human' way, but I think when analyzing that (and his behavior that could definitely be labeled some form of suicidal) it's important to approach it less from a "oh what [abuse/traumatic event/negative feedback] has he personally been through to cause this" and more from a "what are the circumstances of Primo's creation and how does that effect him." The former is still an important element of course, but it's a bit of a disservice to his character to attempt to 100% separate him from Aporia when dissecting what's going on with him; one really can't exist without the other! (i.e. Primo was only brought into being via Aporia's memories and suffering, and Aporia as we see him in-show only can be brought into being when the emperors fuse....the cyclical infinite nature of these characters runs very very deep hehehe)

imo it's not an either/or situation with Primo's despair--I think his completely fucked sense of self worth stems from the trauma he's inherited by being a piece of Aporia AND the bullshit he deals with from his peers currently AND, also, the inescapable fact that Primo was Created To Act Under a Specific Set of Parameters. more after the cut, lots of analyzing this miserable Swordbot9000, apologies for the Epic of Gilgacidomesh

Primo is not human. IM NOT SAYING THAT TO BE MEAN TO HIM OR ANYTHING he's just Literally Not a Flesh and Blood Human Being; he's a machine created from a dead man's memories and emotions by Just Some Guy who thinks he's god, and due to this Primo has deemed himself Above humankind--better than them, more capable than them. Sometime I need to go off more on my Emperors analysis discussing the fact that theyre basically Mechanical Angels, BUT FOR NOW I think a very core trait of Primo's is the fact he doesn't see himself as human, and he takes great pride in that. He's less come from hell himself, I'd say, and more or less come forth from Someone Else's Hell and Now He Has to Live With That. And also he is completely, almost desperately devoted to his God. If anything, he sees himself as a tool blessed by god Himself, with a great power he will use to enact justice upon this wretched timeline.

He sees saving the future as a very important task he needs to complete (and he DESPERATELY wants to be the one to complete it himself, more on that in a moment,) and I think that in part is why he's so excited about "finally being able to rest" and welcoming his fate--it means that he has completed what he was made to accomplish, the way a computer would complete a process, and why would he ever want to "save" himself from savoring that experience? (reminds me of how in TF6 lester is like "why would I want to run away?" re: trying to escape the Ark Cradle crashing into the city--it's not just a Primo thing, this sort of lack of self preservation!) (Also considering primo's track record of failed plans, no wonder he would be Especially obsessed with completing the Circuit and getting the cream of the crop "glorious honor" of dying in Z-one's name in God's Very Citadel and preventing the catastrophic future. That IS his will to live; he doesn't know how to have another one 😬) Dying in the process of the Ark Cradle crashing onto New Domino isn't seen as a 'sacrifice' for these guys I don't think; it's seen as an inevitable conclusion to what they were brought into existence for.

(Also, while we never really get complete confirmation on this, I do think Z-one also Definitely programmed the Emperors to worship him, to act with such dedication to the cause, to work ceaselessly towards their goals despite years (centuries?) of failures, and not stop, not give up. And I think that, alongside the fact they're effectively gijinkas of the most traumatic moments of Aporia's life, robots built from misery, quite literally Embodiments of Despair, that's not just flavor text. It's what powers them. And it explains a Lot of why they act the way they do, especially with regards to something like Primo's 'suicidal' behavior. In fact, I don't even think they would see this way of thinking as "suicidal," even, since that implies being alive in the first place, and the emperors…um. don't see themselves as 'alive!!!' :,) kind of fucked up to think about!!!!!)

OK SORRY FOR THAT TANGENT IT'S JUST SOMETHING I THINK A LOT ABOUT WITH THESE GUYS the inherent discussion of humanity when it comes to a robot. anyway, re: the way Primo's peers treat him, yeah i don't think that's helping much !!! Primo seeks approval like he'll die without it, he's an android copy of how much it Sucks To Be 19; like I said above, he desperately wants to be the one to complete the Circuit, to save the future, in the dub he basically states he wants to be God's Favorite, so course that brings him into conflict with Jakob (the implied actual Favorite,) of course Z-one apparently REPEATEDLY not giving a shit about him is doing damage to his psyche.

He gets clowned on and demeaned by effectively all of his coworkers (including and especially these other pieces of himself) (good GOD), no one even seems to LIKE HIM. LIKE. AT ALL, of course he wants to feel important to someone!! he probably (definitely) thinks if he can complete the Circuit he'll win favor with God, get the respect and attention he craves. I've talked before about how I feel like Z-one condemned his dead friends to the same loneliness he's become cursed with, and you REALLY see that with the Emperors and Primo especially. Aporia got split into threes and all three of 'em somehow ended up even lonelier than they would have been as one body--Primo is SUCH A MISERABLY LONELY GUY. HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO INTERACT WITH PEOPLE LIKE A NORMAL PERSON BECAUSE HE WASNT PROGRAMMED TO BE A NORMAL PERSON.

sure yeah his chronically unpleasant to be around attitude doesn't help, but in the Tag Force games you see these repeated little moments where you can tell he enjoys your company, he's Excited to spend time with you. I get the impression half of him thinking you should be happy to die too is just that he's so excited to share what he considers the ultimate culmination of what he was created to do with you (if TF5 is considered 'canon' in TF6 he might even be under the idea youre also an android--but that's a kettle of fish for a different time, primo's TF5 route is also insane). This isn't suicide to him! This is saving potentially billions of people! This is something really important to him, and he wants to share it with you!! Our hard work will pay off and we can rest!! This is the highest holy honor you can have!!!!! Aren't you excited???

I just wouldn't say his continued agonies are Solely hinged on what's happening to him currently, nor are they what are driving him to this supposed lack of something to live for (again, since ridding the world of Momentum IS his something to live and persevere for, since that's what he was made to do.) I'd argue they're definitely external factors exasperating an internal problem built into his very code, though, and it just makes Primo's situation all the more harrowing to think about. He has got so much shit going on with him and none of it is good. "I feed off my own despair" OK COOL BUT THAT'S NOT A GOOD THING, DUDE. BEING A MACHINE POWERED BY YOUR OWN MISERY AND ANGER IS NOT SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF. He was literally Built to Harbor Someone Else's Agony. If you keep dropping straws on a camel who was born with a back already covered in 'em, of course it's only gonna get worse, regardless of how much the camel thinks suffering makes him stronger and above humanity!!!

I do agree, though, that things maybe would have gone so much differently if someone outwardly, properly expressed love and affection to this poor guy. If someone told him he mattered in a way beyond his programming and divine mission. That taunt in Duel Links, the way he actually says it, it comes off as almost this snarling scornful jeer, but he looks so sopping wet sad saying it.

He is the embodiment of "losing those who you love" and you have to wonder how that manifests with him, despite the fact that, like... he doesn't Know Eurea. he didnt even know she existed until Z-one put him back together and told him the truth of what he is. I wonder if Primo feels the itch to inflict that same pain of losing your closest love on other people (a trait Aporia also Very Much Has.) Or if he's written himself off as unlovable entirely (😢)... or if 'disgusting humans' are just beneath his sky high standards. And, yeah, you really do have to wonder why he doesn't class the rest of Iliaster as someone to love, why he gets along so poorly with the other Emperors in the first place. Did Z-one also program them to not fucking get along with each other??? Was this also some 6D chess bullshit to actually hinder their progress even more??? Is this indicative of just how bad Aporia's mental state was/is????? CAN WE KNOW!!!

this is all just theorizing and guesswork at the end of the day, but it's a lot to think about, and i love ruminating on it. I personally think Primo's fixation on having no one to love stems from a combination of things, and the fact some of it is coming from these vague feelings of agony baked into him from when Aporia lost Eurea is, like, GOD. MAN. I also think at least a little of it may be just that Primo thinks he doesnt 'deserve' anyone to love properly, and also that the Emperors are so divorced from humanity in their eyes that to "love" one another, or to see each other as 'family', is absurd and a waste of time (though if they actually fully believe that, who knows--it definitely seems like Primo cares quite a bit about Lester. wahhh ;;; ) Like. They're literally this post. In the Tag Force games Primo always acts kind of jumpy and almost shy when youre nice to him??!? HE DOESNT KNOW THAT ONE. AND IT'S SO SAD.

WOW. OK. THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME A BIT. APOLOGIES!! tl;dr: yeah Primo's sense of self-worth is complete dogshit, the ghost of Aporia's suffering over a woman Primo has never met or known haunts his circuitboards in a way that can't be ignored, and that plus the fact he gets treated with disdain by his closest cohorts (which may be due to their God's 'divine' decisions) are definitely exasperating his issues and behavior. BUT, that being said, that's actually probably the least of why he's shown to be so excited to die, and the actual reasons that seem to be at play are a lot more horrifying! :D Primo largely sees himself as a means to end rather than as a person (he is a beautiful machine, a half motorcycle agent of justice and punishment, and far mightier and above miserable humans like Yusei Fudo,) and THAT'S largely because he was programmed by his creator to see himself that way. He is a computer built to complete a task and shut itself down. He was made to serve his God at the request of His long dead best friend for the good of a future he isn't meant to actually see.

i dont really have a conclusion, but I think a lot about this post with regards to the Three Pure Nobles.

Maybe Primo could have grown beyond his programming, if he'd been exposed more properly to love and kindness. and i hope you want more for him too. im going to bed and going to think about this until i fall asleep. ok bye

[littlemissmoodswings]

if i had a nickel for every time a twink in outer space on a desert planet had a prophecy thrust upon them in their teen years AND decided/realized they needed to be the one to end the emperor of the galaxy ( for diff reasons obviously ) i would have 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐒.

which isn't a lot. but it's weird that it's happened twice, right??

[nyaskitten]

my brain has invented new robo/cyborg blorbos and WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE unless I post the art I have of them rn so here y'all go Ig

[kneebie]

Listen I'm not saying that blocking all democratic ways of expressing one's interests has a tendency to backfire, but what i *do* know is that my love of the byzantine empire has taught me a couple things

1. Murder actually get a lot done when you get right down to it, and despite having a long-ass history, they only ever had a prime ruling family for like, three generations, tops, because again. Murder solves a lot of problems

And 2. The rich generally have to give a damn about the community they're in because if they don't, the community sees them as siphons of prosperity and murders them when they return nothing

[a-passing-storm]

This is so embarrassing, but I keep forgetting that the Roman Empire happened.

[milla-frenchy]

Home

3k7 | Marcus Acacius x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: Acacius returns from Numidia several months after his departure, and comes back to his wife

Warnings: 18+ mdni. fluff, smut, established relationship, Acacius and reader are married and deeply in love, Acacius is devoted to his wife (he’s soft, protective, caring and slightly possessive), oral (m/f), oil massages, size kink, piv, creampie. No age specified

a/n:  this fic is just soft and sweet and I hope it will bring comfort to those who need it. This is my love letter to Acacius, basically, after watching Gladiator 2 (no spoilers towards the movie). I love this character so much. I did some research but I'm not an expert on ancient Rome at all.

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for always holding my hand and for beta-ing, @joelmillerisapunk for cheering me up, @iamasaddie for being a sunshine- 🫶💓 dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

You felt his presence before he even spoke. 

You knew he was here, because all your worries, all the tension in your body, dissipated instantly. All the weight accumulated during those last months was removed from your shoulders, allowing your body to relax and open up.

"My lady..," you heard. 

You stood up and faced him, turning away from the fish pond. You murmured his name then hurried towards him to snuggle against his broad, protective chest, where nothing bad could reach you. His arms surrounded you, as his lips kissed your forehead and your hands slid along his waist to his back. The warmth radiated from him, warming your entire being, body and soul.

"You are here, my love," you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You had been holding them back for so long. Too long. Because you didn't want to seem weak, and because you didn't want to let your brain swallow you up in its darkness.

But now Acacius was here, and you could allow your fragility to consume you for a moment,  to be your true self, letting your emotions overwhelm you. Because you knew that he would want to absorb them for you, to protect you. To be your man.

"I'm finally here. I missed you, you have no idea. You were always in my thoughts, my beloved.”

You hugged each other tighter, and you buried your face in his chest, rubbing against him, like a cat that marks its territory with its scent. 

"I missed you too, Acacius," you replied, finally raising your face to his, staring into those soft brown eyes that you missed so much. The eyes of your husband who had returned from Numidia. Returned victorious, as always, but the worry never left you when he was gone. The intrusive thoughts that made you fear that he wouldn’t come back to you, that he had perished. Or worse, taken prisoner. The highest representative of the Roman Empire on the battlefield, the general of Rome, gods only knew what they would do to him.

Caressing his cheek with your thumb, you chased away those dark thoughts to let yourself enjoy the present. Your husband, your love was there. You brushed his wrinkles, as you took the time to admire his slightly grayer curls, before running your fingers through them.

"You are even more beautiful than when I left," he said in a low, calm voice. You smiled when you heard him, moved by his love for you that was radiating from him. Love that had never wavered during your marriage. He always came back to you, as soon as he had dealt with the burdens placed upon him by the emperors he hated.

"Let me feed you, my love," you said. "And bathe you."

You walked toward the caldarium, his arm around your shoulder, yours around his waist, your body pressed against his. You were holding each other close as you were walking, it had been so long since he left for Africa nova.

“I cleaned myself before I went to the coliseum. You don’t have to, you know?”

“I know. But I love to do it, even if it’s only symbolic.”

He smiled warmly and saw you melt under his stare, then pressed a kiss on your temple to forget the fast beating of his own heart.

You undressed him slowly, layer by layer. Taking the time to place your hands on his chest before you would remove the last fabric, to feel his torso rise under your fingers. To process the fact that he was really back with you. He watched you roam his chest, shoulders, arms along his body, face lowered towards you. Smiling, patient. Soothed. 

Once you managed to stop staring at his skin, his muscles, the way his body reacted to your touch, you tilted your head up to meet his eyes. You both smiled, happy and relieved to finally find each other again. You always marveled at his softness, that side of him only you knew. 

Your fingers ran along his skin, and you frowned at each new wound you felt under your digits.

“You have so many new scars,” you said with a trembling voice. “I thank the gods for bringing you back to me.” 

“Thank the soldiers, my love, they kept me alive,” he replied, brushing your cheek with his thumb. He had great respect for his men, treated them well, and had their complete trust. Tears appeared in your eyes again, and he gently took your chin between his fingers to lift your face up to him.

“I’m here now,” he said, his voice still low and calm. He knew you needed to be reassured, that meeting again always made his next departures more difficult, for both of you. He knew you were already anticipating them.

“I know,” you stammered. “I know. I just missed you a lot.” You tried to push aside the worries that were already trying to infiltrate your mind.

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, I wish I never had to leave. But I have great news: I won't have to go for now. I told the emperors that I wanted to rest and spend time with my wife. Darius will lead the next battle, he's ready.”

“This is such great news, Acacius!” you said, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and nestling your face in his neck. “I'm so relieved.”

He held you against him, before cupping your cheeks in his hands and resting his forehead against yours.

You moved slightly aside to pull off the last layer of clothing, freeing his half-hard cock. You thought about it so often when he was away as your fingers were buried inside you.

You covered him in oil and massaged his shoulders to relieve his physical tension. Then his chest, arms, palms and belly, taking your time. Gently, your fingers worked his skin, finding their favorite spots and his. Lingering there.

Finally, you faced him and took his shaft in hand, before jerking him off gently under the pretext of applying the oil, but you both felt the need grow.

You then asked him to sit in the warm water, and got undressed. The expression in his eyes changed from softness to eagerness and desire while he was watching you. 

Fully hard, he stood up when you approached the bath, holding out his hand to accompany you down the steps.

“Sit on me,” he murmured in your ear, his beard brushing your skin. You straddled him, placing your hands on his cheeks before playing with his curls. You leaned down and finally kissed him, tasting his warm, soft, luscious lips. You both moaned and it made you smile, as you felt yourself mesmerized by him being finally there, with you. 

He caressed your lips with his tongue, then slid it between them. Your tongues found each other, for the first time in months, and you felt dizzy, savoring him again. His hands roamed your back, squeezed your skin sometimes, while your kiss was only growing more feral and needy. Unable to wait any longer, you grabbed his cock and nestled it at your entrance, making him growl from the depth of his chest.

“Slowly,” he stammered. “No foreplay… don’t hurt yourself.”

“Can’t promise it,” you smiled. It was almost a lie, both of you knew it, you couldn’t take him slowly, your need to feel him being too strong. You sank onto his shaft with your arms resting on his broad shoulders, and you had to bite him slightly when the fat head of his cock began spreading you wide open, until you welcomed him fully, leaving both of you breathless for a second.

“That wasn’t exactly slow,” he laughed once he caught his breath, his hand against the back of your neck as you peppered his collarbone with kisses, your cunt full of him.

“Couldn’t wait,” you breathed and kept kissing him, slowly moving up and down his shaft, mixing your moans with his, your forehead against his. Your breaths mingled, similar in their urgency.

“I missed you. I missed you,” you repeated, while one of his hands was caressing your back, the other resting on your hip to accompany your movements, but sometimes pushing you slightly more down his cock.

“Me too, my love. Finally feeling you like that, wrapped around my cock, is almost unreal after all that time. But I won’t last, I’m sorry,” he said in a breathless voice. “It’s been too long since I felt the warmth of your cunt. Only my hand could give me a release when thoughts about you invaded my mind.”

“Now I’m here. Use me. Come,” you added, rubbing yourself against his lower stomach, knowing you would come soon too.

He held you tight in his arms, setting his pace, fast, powerful, to the point that the water overflowed from the bath with every move. He chased his orgasm, growling in your ear, his body surrounding yours, and you let him use you willingly until his grunts turned into moans and he froze, coming inside you. You pulsed on his shaft just after, milking his cock, feeling him shudder inside you.

You let him catch his breath and his wits before facing him, your hands on his cheeks, and covered his lips, cheeks, forehead with kisses. Already thinking about the moment you would go to your bedroom, and finally take the time to rediscover each other.

Washed, you had dinner, and you told him what happened during his absence. Life in Rome, the dream of Marcus Aurelius long forgotten. The emperors were hated by the subjects, and the cruel games were still allowed.

His worry was growing as he was listening to you. Each time he left, he was afraid a revolt would take place and he wouldn’t be there to protect you. 

He asked you the question that had been burning his lips since his return, but that he was holding back, afraid of your answer.

“Did… did anyone hurt you while I was away?” he asked, eyes lowered to the ground, your hands in his. Then finally forcing himself to look at you and hear your answer.

“No, Acacius,” you answered quickly, eager to remove that weight from his shoulders and his heart. “Nothing happened to me, don’t worry.” You knew that he would lose his mind if someone hurt you, just like those who had hurt you would lose their heads. 

He kissed your hands when he heard you, keeping them between his, brushing them with his thumbs.

“I couldn't stand it if that happened,” he added, voice shaking.

“I know, my love. But the guards protect me. The ones you chose, and trust completely. I am safe.”

He nodded, even though both of you knew he would never be calm during his absences.

Once fed, he told you about the new conquests. You felt the weariness on his shoulders and in his eyes. His anger. The emperors were making him lose patience, every day a little more.

“Enough about this,” he said finally. “I don't want my return to be full of sadness and bitterness. I saw how tense your body is, I will help you relax with some oil, like you did to me.”

“Acacius… you need to rest after these last few months. Not to take care of me,” you replied softly.

“I am your husband,” he said gently but firmly, moving closer to you until he took your hand in his and kissed it. “Your man. There’s nothing else that I want to do more.” You looked at him and smiled.

Once in the bedroom, he asked you to undress and lie down naked on your stomach. He poured some oil in his hands, and rubbed them together. He didn't take his eyes off you until you were on the bed. "You're so beautiful," he said. “I’m gonna take care of you. I missed it.”

He started by massaging your neck, with perfect pressure. Hands flat, he pressed his thumbs against each tense spot, helping to release the tension step by step. You felt your muscles relax at his touch, from your neck to your shoulders. Once satisfied with the way your body responded to his movements, he coated his hands with oil again, then he took care of your lower back. Your pelvis had been stuck for weeks, and you knew that he would do wonders, as always. That the next day, when you woke up, it would be free of its tensions.

“Do you feel better?” he asked, kissing your shoulder, his moustache brushing your skin.

“Better than ever. Thank you, my love.”

“Perfect. Turn around now, please." You rolled onto your back, and you saw his eyes linger on your breasts for a few seconds, nipples hard after his hands on you.

“Well, General?” you chuckled.

“Mmm. I was staring, wasn’t I? I missed them too,” he confessed, blushing slightly, which was cute, coming from him.

He massaged your arms then your thighs, one by one, down to your ankles and feet, careful not to touch your breasts or even look at them, as if that would end the session prematurely. You didn't take your eyes off him, watching his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his tongue brushing his lip, his teeth nibbling on it.

Finally, you saw his gaze fixed on your pussy, something he had also avoided until then. The candlelight certainly didn’t allow him to see, but he probably knew you were flowing down to the bed. His hand slid from your ankle to your thigh, then brushed your folds before slipping between them, making you whine, as you heard the grunt of approval when his finger got lost in your wetness.

He took a deep breath and said “I’m too eager to taste you, now. But tomorrow I will touch, lick, worship your whole body. I want to kiss you, from your forehead to your toes. Take back what’s mine.”

“I’m yours, always, Acacius. Whether you are here or not.”

“I know, my sweet girl, I know. As I’m yours. Ad vitam aeternam. (forever)”

He got undressed and you loved that he took his time doing it, with a soft smile on his lips. You loved knowing that he would be there with you for several weeks. Every day and every night. 

You were never tired of looking at him. His body was a gift from the gods. His strong neck, with veins bulging every time he thrust into you. His broad shoulders, his belly slightly softer as the years passed. His large hands, next to which yours seemed tiny. 

His cock.

So massive that on your wedding night you had been so afraid that you had thought of running away. But he had assured you that he would be gentle and go slowly, that he would take care of you. After another hesitation you had chosen to trust him, his tone, his gaze, and two nights later it had seemed that you had been physically made for each other.

But more than his body, his personality, his loyalty, the way he cared about you, made him a loving, reliable, protective husband. You thanked the gods every day for making him yours.

Once naked, he knelt on the bed between your thighs, gently spreading them, finally revealing your pussy. Again, he took a deep breath. His thumb ran over your wet folds.

“You’re drooling for me.”

He lay down, bringing his face closer to your pussy and breathing it in. “Gods, I missed it.”

His tongue traced a stripe between your folds, up to your clit, making you whine. He looked up at you, adding “now, you’re gonna feed me.”

He dove between your thighs, eyes closed, your folds spread by his thumbs, burying his tongue in your core. Feasting, like he did each time he came back, but not only. From the wedding night, and all the others that followed, he had shown you how much he loved eating you out, pulling orgasm after orgasm, sometimes two in a row because he didn’t want to or couldn't stop.

“Acacius,” you whimpered while his nose was rubbing perfectly against your clit. As he had learned during all those years the way your body responded to him.

Back arched, hands lost in his curls, you moved in harmony with his mouth and his tongue, reaching for him, rolling your hips towards him. He pulled back for a few seconds to look at you, and smiled when you cried for his loss. His beard and mustache glistened with your slick and his pupils were dilated as if he had consumed opium to heal a wound. He leaned towards you again, pushing one thick finger between your folds and then sucking your clit. He quickly added a second digit when he heard your needy moans, and licked at your clit. Your hands moved from his curls to your breasts, then to the sheets, your fists clenching on them.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered, pelvis tilted towards him as far as possible, as if he wasn't already so close to you. The pleasure that was growing in your core finally exploded, hands and thighs holding his head against your cunt, not wanting him to stop. Docile, he kept licking and pumping you with his fingers, until you stopped clenching on them and released him.

He straightened up, crawling between your thighs, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking on it like his life depended on it before moving on to the other, leaving them glistening with his saliva. Finally, lying between your thighs, he kissed you, his mouth and lips tasting like you.

“I want to taste you too, please,” you begged.

“Of course, my sweet girl. You don’t have to ask. I’m all yours.”

You kissed him before he rolled onto his back, and you straddled him. Covering his cheeks, lips, neck with kisses, then moving down to his torso, hands roaming over his skin. You took one of his nipples in your mouth, sucking, nibbling, licking, then the other, without taking your eyes off him. Admiring his beautiful face. You continued to move down, kissing his belly and hips, your breasts brushing his hard, oozing cock. You took his shaft in hand, and licked his balls, eyes still fixed on him, to see him drop his head back on the bed. “Gods..,” you heard him breathe. 

You smiled and left his balls to suck on his tip, lingering on it, giving you some time to get used to its width, to savor him in your mouth again. His precum flowed in your throat. He had been gone for so long that you were afraid you had forgotten the taste, but it was so familiar again now. Your head bobbing on his shaft, you wanted to make him feel good, wetness dripping from your cunt, moaning on his shaft, and you closed your eyes until you heard him growl louder. Then opened them to see his head raised towards you. One of his hands was placed on the back of your neck.

“You like it, General?” you asked playfully, then licked his shaft tongue flat.

“It’s divine.”

You crawled towards him, arousal dripping from your core after sucking him, you kissed his body again and then his lips, before murmuring “take me.”

His eyes darkened and in one movement he laid you down on the bed, under him. Pressing his cock to your entrance, this time he didn't wait, hands tight on your hips, he pushed his whole lenght into your cunt. His massive cock, so hard that you lost your breath. He never took his eyes off you, dark gaze lowered towards you, soft eyes forgotten in favor of a feral stare. He was possessive, claiming your body as he claimed cities during battles, like his body and mind needed it. Like you needed it too.

You tried to keep your eyes open, to look at him, leaning towards you, eyebrows furrowed, veins throbbing. But the relentless rhythm of his shaft spreading your walls made you forget where you were, leaving you moaning and repeating his name. You clung to his shoulders, telling him how much you loved to feel him again, how much you needed it. 

“Always taking me so well”, he growled, and you hummed with approval.

He slid his hand to the back of your neck, holding you close, his nose against your ear. He breathed you in, focused on your moans, eager to have all his senses filled with you, after months of being surrounded by dirt, screams and blood. 

He was home now, you were his home.

“Acacius,” you whined, his crotch rubbing perfectly where you needed it. 

“Come for me. Soak me.”

“Oh gods… Acacius… Acacius,” you whimpered, your orgasm rushing over you, making you pulse on his shaft, your clit throbbing against his skin.

“Just like that, squeezing me so hard… you were made for me,” he murmured, his breathing now ragged as his own pleasure rose.

“I’m… oh gods,” he said, just before cumming inside you, long spurts of cum painting your walls in white. You held him tighter against you, as he moaned in your ear. Your general of Rome, now the most vulnerable man in your arms.

His jolts finally stopped and he straightened up slightly, careful not to crush you under his weight. He covered your skin with kisses, from your neck to your lips, before rolling onto his side and welcoming you against his chest, arms wrapped around your bare body. Both of you waited for your breathings to calm down.

“I cherish it, you know,” you said, curled up against his chest.

“What do you cherish?” he asked, caressing your skin with his large, loving hands.

“Having you like this, in these moments. It always seems unreal to me, your softness and protectiveness towards me, knowing that you lead battles for Rome. Everyone who fought near you evokes your cold blood.”

He hugged you closer and kissed your forehead, brushing it for a moment with his moustache.

“I love you. I’m only myself when I’m home, with you.”

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[sepublic]

I characterize Emperor Ing as a selfish, hoarding creature; Like real-life kings, its power comes more from the allocation and control of resources than any innate trait. It was one of the original Phaz-Ing located in the Leviathan seed that struck Aether; When the energy of Phazon mutated with Aether's energy to create Dark Aether, all of the Phaz-Ing were released there, and were mutated by the dark world's energies into the "Ing" we know today.

Emperor Ing hoards all of the Phazon in its throne room within the Sky Temple; It might be the only Ing now who is aware of their true origin, and the connection between them and Phazon. By hoarding a fifth of Aether's energy for itself, Emperor Ing was able to become the most powerful; Similarly, it stockpiles Phazon, in the event it needs to rely on that power. Samus Aran's battle with Emperor Ing would necessitate this failsafe, only to render it all for nothing anyway.

Emperor Ing is a selfish creature; Borderline insecure and paranoid. It stole the light of Aether for itself, but is not keen on sharing it with its own horde, except to create more soldiers. It establishes a rigid caste system, a hierarchy, but its need to be enforced proves how unnatural it is, nothing more than a means to maintain Emperor Ing's authority; Any Ing is capable of becoming Emperor with the resources it has. It was merely lucky and privileged, not inherently stronger or more virtuous.

Its need to control and own, its possessiveness, makes it naturally hostile; It saw Dark Samus as a threat, stealing Phazon that it felt rightfully belonged to it. It saw Aether's energy as belonging to it. To Emperor Ing, things are its property, including its own soldier; It values them the way one values material possessions, meaning it has no concern for the Ing themselves. It has concern for its loss of material wealth, resources, assets; And it sees the destruction and/or theft of its possessions as an insult, a direct attack towards itself. And this deeply angers Emperor Ing.

Emperor Ing is Pride, Greed, Paranoia, and Entitlement rolled into one; A being who would let its own kind starve to death to assert its dominance. Indeed, it is likely the last of the original generation of Phaz-Ing that first arrived on Aether; It outcompeted the rest, and knowingly kept subsequent generations in the dark to maintain its control and narrative. Dark Samus can sense however the true nature of the Ing, and their primordial connection to Phazon; She threatens Emperor Ing by asking what it would do, if its subjects learned the truth?

A conniving little bastard, that's what Emperor Ing; Really something quite small who cheats and manipulates others. But its appearance resembles an Inglet, a lowly member of the Ing caste; They are not fundamentally all that different, the Emperor is really just a little Ing pretending to be big. The Ing don't inherently deserve to die, it is a tragic tale that in order for one to live, the other must be destroyed; An attempt for both to co-exist would lead to the destruction of all. But as ruler, Emperor Ing is the most insincere, a being who probably would've hoarded Aether's light even if it were not necessary to survive. Some Ing are just trying to survive, but the higher up the ranks one climbs, the more power-hungry and insincere members tend to be.

If the Ing are the dark reflection of the Luminoth, what does that say of the Luminoth? Perhaps they too have struggled with oligarchies, with cruel and uncaring kings operating more on selfishness than anything else. Maybe they slowly worked on and removed these elements from society; But that capacity for selfishness always remains. And if it could not manifest properly in the Luminoth, then it did when Phazon gave a new vessel that became known as Ing.

The savage culture of the Ing could be the Luminoth's own dark past coming back to haunt them, not unlike the Chozo who strive to make up for their own warmonger days. There cannot be light without darkness, and when Aether's energy was split, so were Light and Dark; By merging the energy, the darkness of the Luminoth returned to them, back in control. Maybe that's how the Ing really survived Dark Aether's destruction after all... U-Mos and Emperor Ing guard the last energy of Aether in corresponding fortresses; Encountered at the beginning and end, bookends. What does that say about both, does each Ing correspond to an individual Luminoth?

Energy is in all living beings, so when Aether’s was halved, did half of all life die? Are the Ing the demonic ghosts of the Luminoth who died when the Leviathan struck their planet, warped beyond recognition? The Phaz-Ing suggest otherwise, but their transformation involved the energy of Dark Aether; Maybe the life force and souls of the dead manifested in these creatures after all? The Ing possess hosts, they are nothing for they are the dead, and they seek to live again; Of course they’re first introduced to Samus as zombies. But the dead must pass on their energy to make room for the living… Dare I quote the Space Pirates: The dead should serve the living, not hinder them.

[negativezones]

oh my fucking god he’s such a woman.

[metroidbosshowdown]

This Round 1 match resulted in a tie, so it's open for voting again. Who will win, the daunting leader of the Ing, or the creepy plant-like beast of Brinstar?

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Bedroom Description Headcanon Based Off Of This Commission Au Art

Thanking my buddy @queenspinoodle for her help!

So, for starters, Philip and Caleb share a bedroom in their apartment (I like the idea of them sharing a room since they did the same when they were kids in the 1600's). They also have their own beds. The room is small, but spacious enough for the two to move around and stuff. It's also tidy and well organized (thanks to Philip and sometimes Caleb lol).

When it comes to lights / lighting, they have a woven nest ceiling light with little light bulb eggs and fake birds sitting on the branches (I bet you can guess who's idea that was to buy that lol.)

They also have a small desk lamp.

For furniture, they pretty much have the basics.

Now, unto the unique things!🌟✨ Bird posters, a few k-pop posters of the group TWICE, and fun stickers (Caleb) as well as Jesus decor (Philip) are all over the walls.

At their room desk sits their big book of brotherly adventures, a bible, a picture frame of them, a silly looking cardinal bobblehead, a carving knife, feather pens, and a Jesus figure.

Philip hangs his satchel around the desk chair.

To conclude the room's overall vibe?

IT'S SO THEM.

That's it. :)

[irrelevantwriter]

Empress

Pairing: Emperor Geta (Gladiator 2) x Female Reader/You

Warnings: SFW, Ancient Rome type shit

Word Count: 1343

Summary: Part 1. The Empress of Rome pushes her husband a little too far.

A/N: I...I don't know what to say honestly. I'm just as confused by this red-headed slut as some of you are. But here we are. So let's enjoy shall we? Because life be life-ing and I need a distraction. I obviously took liberties with ancient Rome. Let me live. There is a part two with lots of smut so get ready besties. Feedback is that good shit.💗

*Read Part Two here

*Masterlist

***********************

You hummed softly, at peace now that you’d dismissed your maidens. You worked in harmony with yourself, the movements almost convincing you were anywhere else other than Palatine Hill. 

Despite your position, you tended to your own bed linens. The Emperor had admonished you many times before, but you failed to care. 

The tasks you so often liked to keep yourself busy with were seen below your station. An insult to the royal position you held. And yet, for you, they reminded you of a simpler time. They reminded you of home. Of being a young girl not yet soured by what lay beyond her village walls. 

The sentiment made your chest tighten. Today was a day that you longed for that life. You missed your family. You missed flying freely. 

You may be the Empress of Rome, but travertine and marble were still molded to be your cage. An inescapable prison. 

Soft footsteps found your ears as you delicately smoothed the freshly washed bedding to your likeness. Scents of jasmine and lavender permeated the air. They were some of your favorite scents. Something only your husband knew. He’d asked not long after you’d married. He’d made it his duty to ensure those scents followed you everywhere. Even in your dreams. 

“Augusta…” 

His voice floated through the doorway, a hint of disappointment in your title. 

A reminder.

You straightened to face him, bowing your head to show respect. 

“Must I keep reminding you of your place?” 

You sensed him moving closer, his ringed hand extending to tilt your chin. Your eyes met his; depthless pools of darkness. Some days you could see streaks of gold in them from the sun’s rays. Those days were your favorites. Other days they were bottomless. Reminding you of a snake pit. Those were your least favorite.

Today was the latter. 

“I have my reasons, Augustus. Forgive me.”

He chuckled, very aware of your reasons for disobeying him time and time again. 

His hand cupped your cheek, the cool metal of his rings making you flinch. You met his eyes at his prompting. His jaw was clenched, the muscle giving away just how displeased he was with you.

“You are lucky you’re so beautiful, my love. A lesser person would have their tongue cut out.”

You knew. Of course you knew. You did it anyway. 

“A lesser person doesn’t have the heart of the Emperor of Rome.”

Geta hissed, and just as quick as a snake lying in wait, he struck. His hand encircled your throat, squeezing just enough. 

You grasped at his wrist, understanding the game he wanted to play. It was why he kept you. 

In public you were the epitome of grace and devotion. Rome adored you. Your husband adored you. You were dutiful. Well-spoken and a sight to behold. You had everyone’s hearts. Geta knew that. And so did you. 

Behind closed doors, you did as you pleased most days. You went against your husband’s orders, though you never put your own life at risk. You were not so foolish to do so. At least not outside the palace. 

The Emperor was well and truly a spoiled brat. You were not. You liked to remind him of that fact often. And with pleasure. He claimed he hated it. But you saw the fire in his eyes. It was that elusive look he’d get only with you. Swirling embers of flames that mixed in his too dark eyes. 

Lust.

“You forget your role, wife,” he spat between clenched teeth, fingers tightening around your neck. 

“I forget nothing, husband. Least of all what my role is,” you retorted, seeing his gaze shift from your eyes to your lips. Stained with berry juice and sweetened with wine. 

He wanted a taste. 

Geta smirked, loosening his hold. But he did not release you. Instead, he brought you closer, fingers now exploring the hollows of your collarbone. In the confines of your chambers you were more exposed than you would be otherwise. He feasted on the sight. 

He dragged his jeweled fingers across your skin, enjoying the goosebumps that arose in their wake. He touched the royal broach at your shoulder. You shivered. 

“I continue to show you grace and you continue to disrespect your emperor. Have I provided you with such a horrid life? Do the pleasures of my empire displease you?”

His eyes narrowed, his fingers shadowing over your bosom. There were traces of coal around his eyes, making him look that much more sinister. 

But not to you. 

His power frightened you, but the man himself did not. He forgot what kind of life his empire made for its people outside the city. You’d seen the worst of what Roman royalty could do. You’d experienced it firsthand. A man dressed in gold was hardly a sight to run away from. Threat or not.

“Have you gone mute?”

He interrupted your musings, seemingly pleased to have rendered you silent. 

You smiled in return, daring to let your own hand touch upon him. He didn’t stop you, though he watched you with careful eyes. You traced his lips, feeling his breath quicken. You may not be afraid of Geta, but he was surely afraid of you. 

“You have taken a jungle cat and chained her to your side, Augustus. Does that not seem cruel?” You whispered, the space between you both getting smaller as you stepped forward. 

“Is it wrong that I long for my own creature comforts? However lowly they are to you. Is it wrong that I wish to roam freely? To love freely?”

“Love freely?” He cut in, scoffing at the notion. “You do not love freely here? Do not love your emperor?”

His words took on a more threatening tone as he twisted your words. He cupped your cheek, keeping you in his grip. 

“You misunderstand me,” you started, leaning into his touch. You turned your head and kissed his palm, feeling him relax. You reached for his other hand, placing it at your hip, a taboo touch, even between husband and wife. “To love freely means to give myself to you. You have taken. I have never given. To have a woman give herself to you is a magic no mortal man could withstand.”

“Enchantress,” he accused, though weakly. 

“No, my love. Empress.” 

You softly kissed his fingertips. Fingers that had never seen a hard day's work. Or blood on a battlefield. Or the blissful task of pleasing a woman. He, like most men, only sought their own. And as a dutiful wife, you provided. But the hunger, that stayed with you. And it burned as hot as the depths of Pluto. 

“You speak of sorcery. That’s punishable by death,” he rasped. 

“Are you so afraid that you do not wish to seek what I speak of?”

Geta’s jaw once again clenched, the muscles in his neck straining. He did not like to be patronized. 

“You dare make me out to be a fool?”

“I’m offering you the chance to experience what only few men know. The body is not sorcery, Augustus.”

He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for…something. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he jerked his hand away and stepped back. Air filled the once tight space between you both. 

“You infuriate me!” He exclaimed, hands making a mess of his fiery curls. 

“That is not my intention.”

He stepped to you again, breathing hard and heavy. “It would be wise for you to stop speaking out of turn, wife.” 

You did as he commanded, knowing you had stoked the flames too much. 

“Tonight…you are to come to my chambers. I will deal with you accordingly,” he ordered, chest rising and falling with his breaths. His eyes looked upon you, studying your form, almost seeing through your garments.

“Yes, Augustus.” 

“And wife?”

A pause.

You met his gaze.

“I will not show mercy. If the jungle cat wishes to be freed, she must be broken. Understand?”

You nodded. 

He left without another word. 

Part Two

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

m'starting to get my groove back no emperor so here's a lil valentines day piece i wrote, hope yall enjoy ♡ ! ( a lil bit more love for the hopeless romantic singles like me, ppl in a relationship yall can get that from your s/o's..still love yall tho ♡)

fem reader, katsuki is a nervous lil thing, his friends don't help( they do end up helping him out tho), just pure fluffyness, bksquad boys are sassy towards each other but all in good fun, bkg is a softie, kirimina kinda hinted but eiji shuts it down take it how u wanna, food n takeout mentions,dude talk written by a girl trying her best, kirishima's sheets smell bad lemme know if i missed sum else ♡ !! (no friends to lovers mentioned in this one btw..starting to feel myself goin thru withdrawal already..), not rlly reader oriented like usual but i thought this was cute lol i like the idea of katsuki caring about us so much he goes out his way to ask for help from others (despite hating doing so)teehee (also i like the idea of these silly guys interacting and i like hc-ing them okay okay i'll stop rambling okay-)

the last thing kirishima expected at 9.34 pm was someone basically busting down his door with how hard they were knocking on it.

eijirou opens the door urgently and is even more suprised to see his foul mouthed best friend on the other side of the door.

"woah, bakugou, man !" he exclaims seeing the state his friend was in. his eyes looked droopy and his clothes were wrinkled up like he had done a lot of moving around. usually, he would've assumed his friend had just awoken from a good nap, but his restless expression said otherwise. "what happened to you ? you look—"

" 'm fine." bakugou gruffs hoarsely, taking a deep breath at his friends widened eyes, softening up his demeanor just slightly " i'm good," he rephrased "just—you gonna let me in or what ?"

eijirou sputters out an "of course, of course" only for his friend let himself in before he could even move aside. though he immediately freezes when he sees-

"woah, kacchan's gone nutso ! " denki exclaims, face turning red from laying upside down on kirishima's bean bag for way too long.

"and he's up past 8 ? must be the apocalypse or somethin' " sero chuckles from his place on the floor near the dresser.

bakugou groans has he flops onto eijirou’s bed "of course you losers are here" his complaint is muffled against the pillows, but not muffled enough to where the rest of the boys can't hear.

"hey ! we were here before you ! 'f anythin', you're the one intruding—!" denki gulps, eyebrows furrowed. he quickly spins around to lay right when he feels the blood rushing to his head, taking a deep breath afterwards. sero chuckles and bakugou deadpans at kaminari for a good fourty seconds before slamming his head back down and groans even louder.

kirishima decides he's at a safe enough distance to sit down on his own bed, without making any sudden moves so as not to anger the beast that is an angry, sleepy bakugou. he places a hand near his friends leg, where he deems he's at safe to ask "what's up man ? you're usually in bed by this time.." he hears sero make a noise in agreement.

"yeah, or he's havin' kissy-kissy time with his giiiirrrlffrrieeeend.." kaminari sings, kicking his feet in the air jokingly. bakugou, to everyones suprise, flinches at the mention of you, then slams his head against kirishima's pillow harder and groaning even louder.

all three friends share a curious-somewhat worried look. kirishima nudges his head in bakugou's direction, silently begging his friends to say something. said friends adamantly shake their heads, as if synchronized, making a cross motion with their arms. kirishima sighs to himself, some friends.

yet again, he is the first one to speak up " did..did something happen between you two, didja fight or something ?" he asks carefully, his entire body is strained and the air in the room is so heavy, everybody present ready to get a big portion of the great lord explodo-bomberkill's anger.

only to be met with bakugou turning around to lay on his back eyebrows strained slightly and eyes absent, thinking about something they don't know "what ? course we didn't fuckin fight, idiot." he answers simply.

the three friends all let out an obnoxious sigh of relief, to katsuki's slight confusion.

"hoo, okay." kirishima answered relieved. he knows you and bakugou don't fight very much (which he thinks is super manly) but he knows that when it happens bakugou get's extremely—EXTREMELY—irritable, so it's best to stay away from him while he has his heart broken for a little bit, unless he reaches out by himself, but that only happens when he feels really bad and came to ask for advice on how to get his boyfriend priviledges back. "soo.." eijirou sings "what happened then ?"

bakugou's face hardens and the group stiffens again, preparing for a latent explosion--perhaps the volcano was still dormant and was about to be set off. the three boys hold their breaths.

bakugou takes a deep breath, a sour expression on his face.

3..

bakugou huffs out a sigh.

2...

he opens his mouth to speak and—his cheeks are turning pink ?

"valentine's day's after tomorrow and i don't know what the fuck to get her."

the three boys slump over and kaminari does so so hard his face bangs against the floor. kirishima feels like he's in a sitcom or some gag anime.

" that's it ?" sero chuckles to himself "what ? you're worried for valentine's day ?" sero mocks, gladly taking the opportunity to mess with the blond "that shit's easy man." he cackles, leaning against the dresser more comfortably.

"yeah dude, all you gotta do is get her some chocolates and like—a teddy bear or somethin' girls love that typa stuff !" kaminari piped up, having lifted his head up from the floor. sero nods and bakugou lifts himself up to scoff at them. it feels like it comes from the deepest depth of his very being and kirishima feels a little hurt, despite not being the target of the attack.

"this is why you losers don't have girlfriends yourselves, so i don't wanna hear anythin' from you." kaminari chokes out an "ouch, dude !" " sides, i'm not just gonna settle for that boring ass shit for my girl. no chance in hell." bakugou concludes gruffly.

"yeah, yeah we get it you're the perfect boyfriend" sero quips bitterly, rolling his eyes. " why'd you come here to ask us if, according to you, we get none ?" he questioned raising an eyebrow.

"i came here for shitty hair, not you bastards." the blond spits, rolling his eyes as well before turning to kirishima, who jumps a little at his friends slightly desperate eyes on him.

"woah, i don't have—what makes you think i would be any help ?" the redhead splutters, waving his hands around.

"don't you have something goin' on with alien chick ?"

"what ?! no dude, we're just friends !"

at that, bakugou's eyes widen the slightest bit before he groans for what feels like the 5Oth time tonight, and flops back onto the bed dramatically, turning his head away from his friend " your fuckin' useless too, then." his friend grumbles angrily.

"hey !" kirishima exclaims "mean ! i help you with your girlfriend troubles all the time without having one !"

bakugou turns to face his friend again with narrowed eyes, before exhaling a frustrated sigh and lifting himself up again, eyebrows furrowed. "your sheets smell like ass by the way." he chides, nose scrunched slightly.

"h-hey !" kirishima reiterates " i was gonna wash 'em !"

bakugou gives him an incredulous look, before shaking his head, sighing.

"well look, how about you just get her something you know she likes, isn't that good enough ?" sero offers, shrugging to himself.

"ou ! i saw a guy on tiktok ask his girlfriend out with wingstop, you could like-" kaminari, despite getting lightheaded before has apparently not learned his lesson as he flips around on his back again "—ask her to be your valentines with some fast food chain she likes, and those cute pink heart balloons they sell at the mall, y'know !"

the boys all hum at kaminari's suprisingly helpful idea. kirishima doesn't wanna say it out loud but he really hadn't expected such a cute idea from his electric friend.

"y'know, i was gonna say you were just hungry with the wingstop thing, but that's actually not a bad idea kaminari." sero hums absentmindedly with an impressed expression on his face. kirishima sweatdrops at his lack of tact but isn't really suprised.

"fuck you, man ! you guys never trust me with this stuff." kaminari whines mostly to himself. "yer track record isn't really the best when it comes to scoring girls, is it ?" sero retorts.

kirishima shakes his head seeing his friends start to bicker. he decides to ignore them and turn to his spiky haired friend, who seems deep in thought "well, what about it ? that sound like a good idea ?" he asks.

"s'not half bad.." his friend mutters in response " it's a good start, i guess."i if he notices how kaminari presses a hand to his chest with a heartfelt look on his face, he doesn't comment on it.

"oh, maybe try the take-out and a movie, i'm assuming you're not trynna have a whole celebration, yeah ?" bakugou grunts in response, his nose scrunches as he cringes thinking about the idea. he shakes his head "no, want it to be..about just the two of us, y'know ?" he utters honestly, in a way that sounds way too out of character from him.

a symphony of awwwss resonates around the room and katsuki feels his cheeks heat up hard as he harshly tells his friends to shut up.

" but seriously i'm curious, you guys are already together right ? why would you need to ask her to be your valentine anyway—shouldn’t that be a given ? " sero wonders.

"i don’t fuckin know, my old hag says it’s about the principal or some shit like that." bakugou sighs, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm up over his eyes, it seemed like being up so late was affecting him.

"no way dude, you called your mom ?" kaminari asks, jaw practically reaching the floor (or the ceiling..?) in shock. bakugou flushes and splutters as he hears his friends reaction to this apparently shocking news.

“shut up.” he growls “she says it’s important to show i care.. my old man does it an' they're still together right now so he must be doin' something right.

"woah man.." kirishima uttered in awe " you're goin so far to make your girlfriend happy.." he clenches his fist "s-so manly !" bakugou simply grumbles to himself in response.

"honestly..i didn't expect that from you..like at all."

"fuck off !"

"like genuinely, at all. or maybe like, 0.00003 percent cha-"

" i'll fuckin' kill you tape arms !" bakugou barked, small sparks shooting out of his palms as he kneeled at the foot of kirishima's bed in pursuit of the black haired boy. kirishima swiftly swoops in and grabs his friends arm, quickly putting his finger over his mouth

"shhhh, man !" kirishima shushes. " if we're loud, class rep's gonna hear us !" he hisses.

"or worse, mr. aizawa..." kaminari whimpered.

all four boys share a shiver.

afterwards, bakugou sighs, acting as if him almost literally blowing up at his friend a minute ago hadn't happened and gets up to sit on the side of the bed.

"well whatever, i'm satisfied." he says, a little yawn leaving him "my folks gave me some ideas so i'll use those too." his eyes zip around the room and back to the floor, then he closes his eyes and speaks so quietly kirishima barely catches it

"you guys' idea isn't horrible either so i'll keep it in mind..thanks." he utters a quick " 'r whatever." before suddenly getting up and practically sprinting to the door.

it's quiet in the room as everyone sits stunned and kirishima is the first to speak again "o-oh yeah, no problem man, anytime !" he beamed, though still slightly shocked.

"yeah, no problem..!" kaminari can't seemed to decide if he wants to smile or be stunned. his mouth stuck in an awkward half-smile-half- '°O°-' face.

" course." sero raises a thumbs up and a small smile.

bakugou grunts to himself, graces his friends with a simple "night." then pulling the door open quietly, looking around the hallway quickly before swiftly creeping out the room, closing the door behind him. the boys quickly reciprocate the goodnight quietly before he can fully close it. he stutters at the door for a second longer and kirishima knows he heard them then, so he's satisfied.

it's quiet in the room for about 5 seconds after bakugou's left.

"dude, for some reason that made me feel all warm inside..is that just me ?" kaminari hummed, pressing a hand to his chest.

"nope, me too" sero admits, sighing to himself.

"yeah, same here" kirishima says as well, smiling to himself " he really cares about yn, huh ?"

"i can give him that, yeah" sero stretches, getting up so he can jump onto kirishima's bed.

"dude" he lifts his head up "your sheets do smell like ass." sero snickers.

" I- AM-GONNA-WASH-THEM !! "

afterwards valentines day comes around. the boys don't have valentines of their own but when they see you and katsuki hand in hand, with you holding onto those cute pink heart balloons from the mall, wearing a sweater a little too big for you and a valentines day gift bag in your one hand, with bakugou holding onto a bag of take-out and offering them a single side glance and a nod with a half smirk on his lips, they feel extremely proud of themselves. bakugou reminds himself to tell his friends he owes them one.